Meetings of Cultures in the Black Sea Region: Between Conflict and Coexistence 9788779346543

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MeetingS of cultures in the Black Sea Region

BLACK SEA STUDIES

8 THE DANISH NATIONAL RESEARCH FOUNDATION’S CENTRE FOR BLACK SEA STUDIES

MeetingS of cultures in the Black Sea Region between conflict and coexistence

Edited by Pia Guldager Bilde and Jane Hjarl Petersen

AARHUS UNIVERSITY PRESS a

Meetings of Cultures in the Black Sea Region © Aarhus University Press and the authors 2008 Cover design by Pia Guldager Bilde & Jacob Munk Højte. Limestone relief showing reclining Herakles (Černomorskoe Museum); in the background the steppe south of Panskoe

iSBn 978 87 7934 654 3 AARHUS UNIVERSITY PRESS Langelandsgade 177 DK-8200 Aarhus N White Cross Mills Lancaster LA1 4XS England Box 511 Oakville, CT 06779 USA www.unipress.dk

The publication of this volume has been made possible by a generous grant from The Danish National Research Foundation and Aarhus University’s Research Foundation.

Danish National Research Foundation’s Centre for Black Sea Studies Building 1451 University of Aarhus DK-8000 Aarhus C www.pontos.dk

Contents

Preface

9

Setting the scene Jurij A. Vinogradov Rhythms of Eurasia and the Main Historical Stages of the Kimmerian Bosporos in Pre-Roman Times

13

Pia Guldager Bilde Some Reflections on Eschatological Currents, Diasporic Experience, and Group Identity in the Northwestern Black Sea Region

29

Valentina Mordvintseva Phalerae of Horse Harnesses in Votive Depositions of the 2nd-1st century BC in the North Pontic Region and the Sarmatian Paradigm

47

Spaces of identity Peter Attema Conflict or Coexistence? Remarks on Indigenous Settlement and Greek Colonization in the Foothills and Hinterland of the Sibaritide (Northern Calabria, Italy)

67

Alexandre Baralis The Chora Formation of the Greek Cities of Aegean Thrace. Towards a Chronological Approach to the Colonization Process

101

Michael Vickers and Amiran Kakhidze A Kolchian and Greek Settlement: Excavations at Pičvnari 1967 to 2005 131

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Claiming the land Jakob Munk Højte The Cities that Never Were. Failed Attempts at Colonization in the Black Sea

149

Alexander V. Karjaka The Defense Wall in the Northern Part of the Lower City of Olbia Pontike

163

Alexander V. Karjaka The Demarcation System of the Agricultural Environment of Olbia Pontike

181

Alexander V. Gavrilov The First Results of the Archaeological Surveys Near Cape Čauda and Lake Kačik on the Kerch Peninsula

193

Tatina N. Smekalova Archaeological Sites of the Southwestern Part of Bosporos and their Connection to the Landscape

207

The dynamics of cultural exchange Jane Hjarl Petersen Kurgan Burials from Nymphaion – A New Approach

215

Nadežda A. Gavriljuk Social and Economic Stratification of the Scythians from the Steppe Region Based on Black-glazed Pottery from Burials

237

Latife Summerer Indigenous Responses to Encounters with the Greeks in Northern Anatolia: The Reception of Architectural Terracottas in the Iron Age Settlements of the Halys Basin

263

Natalia G. Novičenkova Mountainous Crimea: A Frontier Zone of Ancient Civilization

287

Contents

7

Emzar Kakhidze Apsaros: A Roman Fort in Southwestern Georgia

303

Mind the gap Robin Osborne Reciprocal Strategies: Imperialism, Barbarism and Trade in Archaic and Classical Olbia

333

David Braund Scythian Laughter: Conversations in the Northern Black Sea Region in the 5th Century BC

347

George Hinge Dionysos and Herakles in Scythia ‒ The Eschatological String of Herodotos’ Book 4

369

Indices

399

Contributors

421

Preface

Meetings of cultures in the Black Sea region, ranging from conflicts to coexistence, was the topic of the Danish National Research Foundation’s Centre for Black Sea Studies’ seventh international conference. Meetings of cultures is an overarching theme which forms an umbrella over most of the Centre’s activities. It is also a theme which arouses strong feelings, because modern identity formation – not just in the Black Sea region – is to a significant extent still tied to this more distant part of the region’s past, as we learnt especially from the contribution by V. Mordvintseva. Thus, it was with great expectation  – and also some trepidation – that we in January 2006 embarked upon this venture together with a group of Eastern and Western European colleagues. Because of the different backgrounds of the participants, and because it was needed to bridge the gap between those scholars for whom Black Sea studies are local history and for those whom it is “just” another part of Antiquity, it is unavoidable not to operate with much elasticity in the very concept of culture. Therefore, in the present context we use it as a pragmatic, analytic category. As is well known, from the remotest Antiquity the indigenous and nomadic non-Greek populations of the Pontic region were persistently viewed as one of the major “Others” (e.g. Hartog 1980). And because the region geographically was located as a bridge between Europe and Asia it was, and still is, also part of a Europe/Asia discourse of dichotomy (cf. Neumann 1998). The region and its non-Greek inhabitants were thus doubly “othered” foremost by the Mediterranean Greeks. As far back in time as Antiquity, Western self-understanding and identity formation has been shaped not least through its colonial experiences (Stein 2005, 16, 22). With colonies in India, the Caribbean, and Africa, as well as rule over the Faroe Islands, Iceland and Greenland, even a small country like Denmark has been a colonial “power” for more than 600 years. Until recently, such colonial experience has led to a very static picture in our analysis of colonial encounters. However, as a result of post-colonialism, post-modernism and now globalization our conception of colonization has undergone a rapid and far-reaching conceptual change. Gone are the days when the Black Sea region was seen as a sea of barbarian wilds enlightened by small flicks of Greek civilization along the coast. Accordingly, we prefer using the terms ‘meeting’ or ‘encounter’ whereby we want to emphasize the dynamic nature of the cultural interaction, and by using the term settler rather than colonist, we avoid much heavy semantic baggage of former times. A similar approach has recently been proposed by E.K. Petropoulos in his book from 2005, Hel‑

10

Preface

lenic Colonization in Euxeinos Pontos: Penetration, Early Establishment, and the Problem of “emporion” Revisited, in which he suggests that the ancient Greek word apoikismos is used instead of colonization. At the conference there was a general tendency to draw the lines between the “Them” and “Us” dichotomy less sharply than had been the case in previous research, as well as a more obvious focus on the successful meetings of cultures and coexistence instead of on conflicts and on what did not succeed. This follows a general trend in the study of colonial encounters, i.e. emphasis is on how the practices of colonialism had a pervasive and transformative impact on the cultures of all groups involved neither discriminating the colonized nor the colonizer. Accordingly, this results in a less hierarchical approach to the understanding of cultural interactions. The self/other perspective upon the region is more readily visible in the literary sources created in the Mediterranean than it is in the local, material sources, be they epigraphy or archaeology. This becomes evident in the four different contributions that discuss the same narrative source, namely the Scythian logos in Herodotos’ Fourth Book (D. Braund, P. Guldager Bilde, G. Hinge, and R. Osborne). All four target the question of the culture and identity of Greeks and Scythians and their interplay (or lack of same), and as foreseeable, the result of the individual analyses is quite different. Thus, as formulated by R. Osborne, the material sources in the quest for an understanding of the identity formation on the local level are to be privileged. Life in the world of ideas and lived or real life are two very different things. Surely, settling the Black Sea region was a challenge for the Greeks. Compared with the Mediterranean, this happened relatively late, and as explicated in the paper by by J.M. Højte, the attempts at settling the land were not always equally successful. So when viewed with Mediterranean eyes, the Black Sea region was a marginal one, and even though vain attempts were made to prove the contrary no Mycenean or even Greek Iron Age material has been found, and the region is also completely devoid of Phoenician colonies. A number of papers presented at the conference discussed the physical arena of the colonial encounters, namely the production zones surrounding the newly founded cities and settlements. Because of the various claims laid upon the territory, space had to be negotiated all the time, and it is obvious that there were many ways of managing the landscape. Three contributions in this volume, not presented at the conference, provide new insights into the physical management with systematic land divisions (A.V. Gavrilov, A.V. Karjaka, and T.N. Smekalova), and such projects surely could only function in periods of collaboration if not outright co-habitation. It was in the countryside that the meeting of settlers and indigenous tribes mostly took place. Two of the papers (P. Attema and A. Baralis & A. Riapov) showed how the various ethnic groups settled in different but neighbouring ecological zones. This was particularly clear in the case of Aegean Thrace as shown by Baralis & Riapov, but also in the territory of Sybaris something

Preface

11

similar took place according to Attema. The same pattern can clearly be seen around the Džarylgač Lake in western Crimea, where Greeks and barbarians settled at each margin of the demarcated agricultural zone, as established in the Danish Black Sea Centre’s ongoing fieldwork (Bilde et al. 2007). The management of widely extended chorai, the Metapontion model, seems to be characteristic of the Black Sea region. This must be considered revealing for the Greek-barbarian relationship in the region. Settling side by side  – and even burying their dead side by side but in separate plots is visible in the necropolis of Pičvnari as shown by M. Vickers & A. Kakhidze. Although we are obliged to accept that the power balance in many instances was in favour of the indigenous population, the cultivation of the land and the establishment of exchange systems must nevertheless, as stressed by D. Braund and J.M. Højte, have been beneficial for all participants in the exchange network. Several papers investigate the dynamics of the cultural exchange of various types of goods. N. Gavriljuk discusses the function of Attic black-glazed pottery in the tombs of the Forrest Steppe Scythians. The paper by L. Sum‑ merer gives an interesting insight into the creative reception, emulation, and transformation of architectural terracottas and their ornamentation between the South Coast of the Black Sea (Sinope, Amisos) and the hinterland, in the double-cultural influence from the Greek, one the hand, and from Anatolia, on the other. In the paper by N. Novicenkova, on a hilltop sanctuary near Gurzuf in the Mountain Crimea a portrait is painted of a central place in the Taurian culture, where votives of Mediterranean and Bosporan types show a close connection with the surrounding cultures. In general, the perception of how it was to be Greek in the Pontic realm was heavily debated at the conference. Was there a thick or a thin coherence (cf. Sewell 1999)? How much influence – if any –was exerted by the indigenous tribes upon the Greek settlers? And vice versa? And how do we weigh the individual building blocks of identity, such as ethnic affiliation, gender, age, status etc., against each other? Several papers agree that status and power were perhaps more important markers than ethnicity (D. Braund, P. Guldager Bilde, J. Hjarl Petersen), and P. Guldager Bilde even attempted to turn the discussion upside-down in her attempt to introduce the term diaspora as a means of obtaining a glimpse of the psychological side effects of settling abroad within a comparative sociological framework. Five contributions included in this publication were not presented at the conference. However, since they fit well with the theme and/or present important new relevant data are they included here (A.V. Gavrilov, G. Hinge, A.V. Karjaka, and T.N. Smekalova). The papers in the publication are for the most part grouped thematically. The book opens with the broader historical context as presented by J.A. Vinogradov and V. Mordvintseva, in addition to reflections on the psychology in the process of settling by P. Guldager Bilde. A section follows with three papers discussing the spaces of identity as found

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Preface

in the chorai of Sybaris by P. Attema, and Aegean Thrace by A. Baralis. Five contributions bring us close to the theme of conflict and coexistence. J.M. Højte discusses the occasions where Greek settling failed, and A.V. Karjaka brings us the new data on the excavation of the city wall in Olbia. This manifest marker of latent conflicts teach us (as did D. Braund’s contribution) that conflicts are found not alone between the Greeks and the barbarians, but equally among Greeks themselves, because what may have left the most significant traces of destruction in Olbia around the city wall, may have been caused by Alexander’s general, Zopyrion, rather than groups of barbarians. In this section, also the second contribution by A.V. Karjaka and the papers by A.V. Gavrilov and T.N. Smekalova give further details as to the actual territory management. Then follows a section on the dynamics of cultural exchange seen from a perspective, on the one hand, of power rather than ethnicity (J. Hjarl Petersen) and, on the other hand from various indigenous tribes – be they steppe Scythians (N. Gavriljuk), Anatolian (L. Summerer), or Taurian (N. Novičenkova). Included also is a paper on Roman Apsaros at the border of the Roman limes (E. Kakh‑ idze). Finally, three papers consider the reciprocal strategies exerted by the Greeks and Scythians in Olbia as described in Herodotos’ Fourth Book of his Histories (R. Osborne, D. Braund, and G. Hinge). Together the three papers fully explicate how we also describe ourselves when we describe the “others”. Self and other are two sides of the same coin – yesterday, today and, tomorrow. Before finishing this preface, it is a great pleasure for us to extend our heartfelt gratitude to colleagues at the Centre, who have helped to make this book: Kristina W. Jacobsen, who did a lot of editing, Jakob M. Højte who undertook the hard job of editing the illustrations, and finally Elena Stolba for checking transliterations. The articles were linguistically revised by Robin Wildfang and Stacy Cozart. Pia Guldager Bilde and Jane Hjarl Petersen Bibliography Guldager Bilde, P., P. Attema, S.B. Lancov, T.N. Smekalova, V.F. Stolba, T. de Haas & K. Winther Jakobsen 2007. Džarylgačskij issledovatel’skij proekt. Resultaty sezona 2007g, Bosporskij Fenomen, 107‑118. Hartog, F. 1980. Le mirroir d’Herodote. Essai sur la représentation de l’autre. Paris. Neumann, I.B. 1998. Uses of the Other. “The East” in European Identity Formation (Borderlines 9). Minneapolis. Petropoulos, E.K. 2005. Hellenic Colonization in Euxeinos Pontos: Penetration, Early Establishment, and the Problem of “emporion” Revisited (British Archaeological Reports International Series 1394). Oxford. Sewell, Jr., W.H. 1999. The Concept(s) of Culture, in: V.E. Bonnell & L. Hunt (eds.), Beyond The Cultural Turn: New Direction in the Study of Society and Culture. Berkeley. Stein, G.J. (ed.) 2005. The Archaeology of Colonial Encounters. Santa Fe.

Rhythms of Eurasia and the Main Historical Stages of the Kimmerian Bosporos in Pre-Roman Times Jurij A. Vinogradov

Two centuries of studies on the Kimmerian Bosporos have played an enormous role in our understanding of this region of the ancient world. Only in recent years, however, thanks to large-scale archaeological research carried out on the sites of Bosporos and other ancient centers of the northern Black Sea littoral and on the adjacent territories inhabited by local tribes, has it become possible to offer a pattern of historical development for the region which differs from the customary division of ancient history into Archaic, Classical, Hellenistic and Roman periods, or, more precisely, which concretizes it, considers its regional peculiarities, and provides it with local nuances.1 Among the regional peculiarities, the development of Greek-native (оr Greek-barbarian) interrelations in the northern Black Sea area, and especially the determination of the stages connected with the advance of new nomadic tribes (Scythians, Sarmatians) from the East, must be considered the most important. In truth, the most important feature of the Greek colonies of the Northern Pontic area was the fact that they interacted with the very mobile world of the Eurasian nomads.2 Periodical movements of nomads from east to west (approximately one every 200 years) resulted in serious alterations in the military-political situation of the region,3 impacting the development of all the people and states adjacent to the steppe zone. Nomadic tribes determined the local military-political situation because of their military strength and significant mobility, thereby also heavily influencing the economic situation, not only within the territories inhabited by local tribes but also in the ancient poleis of the northern coast of the Black Sea, including Bosporos. Nomadic invasions of new territories led, as a rule, to military crises, lengthy wars, etc. The period of invasion itself as a rule lasted approximately 30‑50 years. After this period, a second stage occurred, characterized by the nomads’ establishment of their leadership over the “new motherland”, and a systematic extra-economic exploitation of the settled and semi-settled populations of the region. This stage was a time of stable and relatively peaceful relations in the steppes and adjacent territories (it lasted 100 years or more). The third stage is characterized by a crisis in the nomadic economy, the end of which was connected with a new wave of eastern nomads and a new period of instability.

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Jurij A. Vinogradov

Among the Greek states of the Black Sea coast, the Kimmerian Bosporos was situated as the very first advanced post on the route of barbarian movements from the East. The rhythms of Eurasia determined the main historical stages of its development. The history of the Kimmerian Bosporos in preRoman times may be subdivided into the following seven main stages:

Stage 1. Settling the region (600‑480 BC) During this phase, Greek appropriation of the littoral of the Strait of Кerch took place, and of a series of apoikiai in this territory were established as well as contacts with neighboring local tribes. Sound reasons exist for assuming that Greek penetration into the northeastern Black Sea area and the Sea of Azov began at an early date. Material from the ancient settlement located at present-day Taganrog suggests that it was founded as early as the third quarter of the 7th century BC.4 The bulk of the settlements around the Strait of Kerch, however, were founded later, between the first and second quarters of the 6th century BC.5 Why did the colonists not cross the Strait earlier? Why did they not found any colonies in the Bosporos itself? Perhaps this was due to the demographic situation there? At any rate, in the relatively small territory of Bosporos numerous Greek settlements first arose at a later date,6 unlike other areas of Greek colonization in the northern Black Sea region. Some were apoikiai or city-states (Pantikapaion, Nymphaion, Phanagoria, Hermonassa, Kepoi, Sindian Harbour = Gorgippia), while other settlements – several dozen known from written sources and archaeological evidence – were most probably founded as a result of internal colonization of the region (Myrmekion, Tyritake, Porthmion, etc.).7 It is interesting that the earliest settlements of the European Bosporos were rather large units, later transformed into towns. I believe this development was caused by demographic factors: the proximity of pre-Caucasian Scythia and the periodic movements of groups of Scythians through Bosporos (Hdt. 4.28).8 To my mind, these periodic movements were the most important factor for the demographic situation here. This is probably why the Bosporans could not create a system of agricultural settlements around the towns similar to that of the Olbia region.9 There exist sound reasons for assuming that the Greek colonial settlements appear to have proceeded unhindered without threat from external enemies. Sometime around the middle of the 6th century BC, however, the Greek settlements met with substantial reverses. These reverses are apparent first of all in the traces of large-scale fires in Kepoi, Myrmekion and Porthmion.10 Development of the Taganrog settlement stopped at approximately the same time as well.11 It is interesting that in Myrmekion and Porthmion the remnants of early fortifications (from the second half of the 6th century BC) were found.12 These are the earliest fortification systems currently known in the northern Black Sea area. The results of contemporary archaeological studies enable us to assume

Rhythms of Eurasia and the Main Historical Stages

15

that almost all Greek settlements originally had a rather primitive “semibarbarian” architectural appearance with semi-dugout dwellings and household buildings. The period of construction of dugouts apparently ended some 70‑80 years after the foundation of the settlement. At that time all semidugouts were covered with earth, and in their place buildings constructed above-ground, paved yards and streets etc. were erected. The creation of these urban structures may be seen as the completion of the colonists’ period of adaptation to the difficult climatic, ecological and demographic conditions of the region.13 From this time until approximately the end of the first quarter of the 5th century BC they were at the peak of their powers in all aspects of life.

Stage 2. The rule of the Archaianaktids (480/79‑438/7 BC) The rule of the Archaianaktids is only described by one ancient source (Diod. 12.31.1). Archaeological material, however, demonstrates that this was a time of noticeable instability on the steppes of the northern Black Sea area, related to an increased Scythian aggressiveness. This may be explained by a number of factors,14 but the most important of them is probably the westward advance of a new Scythian tribe from the eastern Eurasian steppe.15 These new nomads had, from an archaeological point of view, a rather different material culture, but the differences seem not to have appeared significant to the Greeks, who extended the same ethnic-name, “Scythians”, to them too. It seems to have been these new groups who were responsible for the increasing aggressiveness recorded by all sources: for example, the political and military expansion into the Balkans (Hdt. 4.40) and the growth of internecine warfare, which, by the second quarter of the 5th century BC, had become endemic.16 As a result of these changes, the Greek colonies of the region found themselves in a very complicated situation. Numerous rural settlements in the lower Bug area and the Dniester area ceased to exist.17 Traces of fire were revealed in many Bosporan sites, and in some of them defense installations were erected (Pantikapaion, Myrmekion, Tyritake, Porthmion, Phanagoria).18 Under these conditions, the Bosporan poleis seem to have united into a defensive union headed by the Archaianaktid dynasty (Diod. 12.31.1). In joining forces they were able to withstand the Scythian onslaught. The union of Archaianaktids should hardly be treated as one indivisible state or one power, however. I would like to point out some facts: the minting of Phanagoria and Nymphaion in later times19 and the burial mounds of the nomadic nobility near Nymphaion, Pantikapaion, Phanagoria, Kepoi and probably Hermonassa, with their traditional constructions appeared precisely at the time of the Archaianaktids.20 So we should consider the possibility that within this union, the Bosporan apoikiai preserved a certain degree of independence.21

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Jurij A. Vinogradov

Stage 3. The early rule of the Spartokids and the Golden Age of Bosporos and Scythia (438/7‑c. 300 BC) In 438/7 BC the power of Bosporos passed to Spartokos (Diod. 12.31.1). It was approximately at this time that a period of stability commenced in the northern Black Sea area, leading to the Golden Age of Great Scythia.22 The gradual reduction of conflict in the steppes down to the third quarter of the 5th century BC appears to have been the precondition for a general stabilization and development of economic and cultural life throughout the region. From 430 BC onwards, the Greeks began to re-colonize the agricultural territories of the northwestern Black Sea coast.23 All categories of sources state that this Golden Age in the Kimmerian Bosporos ran from the last third of the 5th to the beginning of the 3rd century BC. One of the very obvious signs of the favorable military-political situation in the region was the development of the Bosporan chora, the historical peak of which fell within this period.24 During the second half of the 4th century BC, a small Bosporan colony seems to have operated as a separate Greek quarter within the barbarian settlement of Elizavetovskoe in the Don delta.25 The first Spartokids are known to have carried out an active policy aimed at strengthening their state and expanding its borders.26 Satyros I occupied Nymphaion and tried to take Theodosia; Leukon I seized Theodosia, Phanagoria and the territories of a number of local tribes on the Asian side of Bosporos: Sindoi, Toretoi, Kerketai, etc. It was under Leukon that the Greek-barbarian Bosporan Kingdom took shape with its mixed culture very vividly manifested in the burials of the Bosporan elite – the famous burial mounds of the Kimmerian Bosporos. The new structure of the state corresponded with the new topography of the local nobility’s burials. These mounds were grouped around the two capitals of Bosporos, Pantikapaion and Phanagoria, with the former group more numerous and important (the Kul’-Oba, the Patinioti Barrow, the Kekuvatskij Barrow, etc.).27 These tumuli show the direction of the main political and cultural links with the steppes of the northern Black Sea area, indicating the presence of an alliance with close relations between Scythia and Bosporos.28 This alliance could only exist as long as the situation in the region remained relatively stable, however. Greater Scythia gradually reached a period of crisis, as well as a weakening in the political and military sphere. In this sense, the period when the most Scythian “royal” kurgans full of gold and silver were constructed – the second half of the 4th century BC – can be thought of as Scythia’s “Golden Autumn”.29 An important point is that in Bosporos things began to change, too. From Demosthenes’ speech we know of the war of the Bosporan King Pairisades I against the Scythians, which resulted in difficulties in trade (Dem. 34.8). Yet that war was just a symptom of future difficulties. The conflict between Pairisades’ sons in 310/09 BC (Diod. 20.22‑24) should most probably not be considered a simple internecine dissension or a small-

Rhythms of Eurasia and the Main Historical Stages

17

scale civil war.30 The brothers’ quarrel over the Bosporan throne happened during a struggle in the region between two ethnic and political groupings – the Scythians and Sarmatians. It seems quite natural that Satyros II and Prytanis were supported by the Scythians, the traditional allies of Bosporos, while the offended Eumelos was backed, most probably, by the Sarmatians (Syrakoi).31 And it was Eumelos who was the winner in this war! It is significant that these two local wars do not have any signs of crisis or large-scale disorders connected with them. All the disorders related to them were of short duration. Of course, a war is always bloody and tragic, but archaeological data demonstrates that the second half of the 4th century BC was a flourishing period in Bosporan history. It was a proper “Golden Age”! To my mind, a local war could not have been a reason for the large-scale crisis in Bosporos. Instead, the reason for the crisis was connected with global changes in the world of the nomads of the Northern Pontic area.

Stage 4. A time of crisis (first half of the 3rd century BC) The first half of the 3rd century BC may be defined in the history of the northern Black Sea area as a period of instability connected with the downfall of Greater Scythia. It seems that the fatal blow which internally weakened Scythia was dealt at around 300 BC by a new wave of nomads – the Sarmatians.32 The first wave of the Sarmatian migration from the East was apparently connected with the Syrakoi and Aorsoi. Probably it also involved the “Royal” Sarmatians.33 This migration precipitated a crisis, deeper than that of the 5th century BC, throughout the entire system. The Sarmatians seem to have delivered a number of fierce blows against the Scythians, though failing to secure themselves a place in the area of Scythia. For a relatively long time the territory where their tribes roamed was found to the east – in the trans-Don and Kuban’ areas – while the steppes of the northern coast were practically empty until the 2nd century BC.34 The cause of such an unusual phenomenon may have been Celtic expansion here from the West. Possibly, it was in the trans-Dnieper area that the two expansions – western (Celtic) and eastern (Sarmatian) – clashed with each other. Neither was able to gain a final victory, and so the steppes of the northern Black Sea area remained for a long time a “no man’s land”.35 All Greek centers along the Black Sea coast faced a difficult period of adaptation to contemporary realities. In the area of the Bosporos and in other Greek city-states of the region the chora settlements, the most vulnerable to hostile attack, disappeared, due to the unsettled conditions of the end of the first third of the 3rd century BC.36 The most eloquent picture of the downfall resulting from these military attacks has been uncovered in some of the sites in the eastern Crimea,37 where in many town centers active construction of fortifications began.38 I am not aware of the identity of the perpetrators of this catastrophe, but one may assume that it was the leftover groups of Scythians,

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who had been driven to the Crimea from the northern Black Sea area and who were in the process of securing new living space for themselves.39 A monetary crisis connected with the crisis of the grain trade, which befell the Bosporan Kingdom as well as other Greek states of the region, was an important consequence of the changes that took place during this period of time.40 On the Asian side of the coast, closer to the territories inhabited by the Sarmatians, the situation seems to have been worse than on the European side, although, there is little concrete evidence of this.41 Still, on the Semibratnee site a destruction level related to that time has been noted,42 but it is likely that relations with the new neighbors soon normalized. One should hardly consider it accidental that in the civil war of Pairisades’ sons, Eumelos, backed by the Syrakoi, was the victor. He must also have adhered to this political alignment later on. Unsurprisingly, at the end of the 4th century BC, the Elizavetinskoe site at the Kuban’ River became an important point of Bosporan influence over the Kuban’ area.43 It is important to note that from this point onwards burials of the local nobility began to take place only in the Asiatic part of the Bosporos. In the territory of the eastern Crimea the latest burial of this type – the Ak-Burun Barrow excavated in 1875 – manifests explicit Maiotian-Sarmatian features. It dates to about the end of the 4th century BC.44 At that time, a similar situation has been identified in the Don estuary, which was close to the route of the Sarmatian campaigns. As shown by the archaeological excavations at the Elizavetovskoe site, a Bosporan colony moved there at the very beginning of the 3rd century BC. It did not last long, however, and was burnt down in the 280‑270s BC, probably as a result of the Sarmatian attack.45 Yet, almost simultaneously, Tanais appeared,46 and became a major point for Bosporan influence in the trans-Don area (Strab. 7.4.5).

Stage 5. A Bosporan renaissance (c. 250‑c. 150 BC) Following M. Rostovcev, the second half of the 3rd to the first half of the 2nd century BC may be called a period of cultural renaissance in the history of the Bosporan Kingdom.47 This was again connected with a period of relative stability in the steppes of the northern Black Sea area, more evident in the eastern part of the region than elsewhere.48 It is in Bosporos that the most prominent signs of the revival of rural settlements may be seen, many of which though (and this is quite telling) had fortifications.49 The state’s financial system gradually recovered from the collapse. The important financial changes were connected with the reform of Leukon II.50 On the Asian side, rich burial mounds of the local nobility were erected (the complexes of Mount Vasjurinskaja, Buerova Mogila, Merdžany, etc.).51 The impression is given that at this stage close, allied relations were preserved and developed with the local tribes of the trans-Don and Kuban’ areas.

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Stage 6. A new period of instability (mid- to late 2nd century BC) Sometime around the middle of the 2nd century BC this situation broke down, and the relatively trouble-free epoch ended. From beyond the Don new nomadic tribes began to advance westwards. The depth of this crisis was a direct result of the high frequency with which successive waves of nomads arrived, creating no reliable basis for the prolonged consolidation of geographically and politically stable structures or federations in the region.52 According to Strabon’s text (Strab. 7.3.17), this second wave of Sarmatian migration can be linked with the Roxolanoi, Iazyges, and, possibly the Ourgoi. Probably it also involved the “Royal” Sarmatians, who, as mention above, may have been living in the steppes of the Don region and who Strabon recorded as occupying the right bank of the Dnieper River.53 Another group which must have been related to this wave was the Satarchoi. Pliny records that these people crossed the Don River (Plin. NH 6.22), and one inscription mentions their presence in the Crimea in the second half of the 2nd century BC (IOSPE I², 672).54 The Aspourgianoi appeared in the Asian part of Bosporos (Strab. 11.2.11) and their advance here is usually dated to the last quarter of the 2nd century BC.55 Later, the Aspourgianoi assumed a very important role in the events of Bosporan history.56 The downfall of several rural settlements on the Asian side of the Bosporos (so-called Taman’ Tholos, and others) was a result of these changes in the Kimmerian Bosporos.57 It was a time when grain had to be imported into Pontos from the Mediterranean (Polyb. 4.4‑5). In order to better oppose the onslaught from the East, the Bosporan rulers sought support from the kings of Crimean Scythia: epigraphic evidence found in Pantikapaion supports this assumption.58 At this stage, however, close relations with the Scythians failed to bear positive results. No doubt, Crimean Scythia could not provide the Bosporan rulers with any support similar to that offered by Greater Scythia in the 4th century BC. Bosporos was expected to pay ever greater tribute to the barbarians (Strab. 7.4.4) – in fact, it had to collaborate with the piratical tribes of north-western Caucasus: Achaioi, Zygoi and Heniochoi (Strab. 11.2.12). The Russian epigrapher V.P. Jajlenko suggests that the state was on the verge of a true catastrophe because of its de-Hellenisation.59 Under such conditions the last Pairisades had to hand over power to Mithradates VI Eupator, king of Pontos (Strab. 7.24.3‑4; IOSPE I², 352).

Stage 7. Bosporos under Pontic influence (late 2nd century-63 BC) The time of the Pontic sovereign’s rule over Bosporos is full of intriguing events important for the understanding of the Roman period that followed. There are sound reasons for assuming that the locals, first of all the Scythians, Achaioi, etc., did not submit tamely to the loss of their influence in Bosporos. This is

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how the uprising of the Scythians of Saumakos (107 BC), famous in Russian historiography,60 has to be treated. The uprising was suppressed by Diophantos (IOSPE I², 352), while Neoptolemos, another Mithradatic military leader, inflicted two defeats on the barbarians in the Kimmerian Bosporos – one in a sea battle, the other in a winter cavalry battle which took place on the ice of the Strait of Kerch (Strab. 2.1.16; 7.3.18). These barbarians were very likely the Achaioi and other piratical tribes of the northwestern Caucasus.61 In the Pontic Kingdom of Mithradates VI Eupator, Bosporos occupied a very important place as the point of delivery for local military detachments to his army, as well as for the supply of munitions, food, etc.62 But Mithradates’ wars against Rome adversely affected Bosporos. After the First Mithradatic War, Bosporos withdrew its support from the king (App. Mithr. 64), most probably because of local preferences rather than those of the Greeks.63 In any case, the sources at our disposal let us assume that these were the same natives (Scythians and Achaioi) who had fought besides Mithradates to retain their influence over the Bosporans.64 The idea that it was the Scythians who were the most important element in Mithradates’ policy in the region, and that they were his main supporters, seems to be much exaggerated. His most loyal allies were the Maiotian-Sarmatian tribes of Kuban’ area, Sarmatians, etc.65 The defeat of Mithradates in his last war again Rome led to his flight to Bosporos, which became the training center for his intended Italian campaign (App. Mithr. 101). The burdens of his previous, unsuccessful wars and of his preparations for a new one, as well as the carefully considered actions of the Romans, led eventually to a situation in which the Greek towns and even his own army rose in rebellion against the king (App. Mithr. 110‑111). It is interesting that the local detachments from the northern Black Sea area did not participate in the rebellion.66 Mithradates’ death in 63 BC under these conditions was an important indicator of the end of one major period in the historical development of the Bosporos and the onset of another.

Conclusion It seems feasible to divide the six centuries from the 7th to the 1st century BC of the development of the Kimmerian Bosporos in pre-Roman time into the above-mentioned seven periods or stages. All peaks and declines of its history, all stages of periodical oscillation illustrate the close connection of the history of the Bosporan Kingdom with the military-political situation (or more correctly – situations) in the steppes of the northern Black Sea area. This dynamic process has been described in Ju. Gotier’s words, written almost 80 years ago: the domains of the Bosporan rulers sometimes stretched very far, but “during the recurring periods of decline the steppe would free itself from the domination of the Bosporan cities and, assuming the offensive, it would bring its barbarian influence nearly to the very city gate of Pantikapaion”.67 To

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my mind, Gotier could not have formulated an insight of greater importance for our understanding of this area, than he, thus, did. Notes 1 Marčenko & Vinogradov 1989, 803‑805; Vinogradov & Marčenko 1989, 539; 2005, 27‑29. 2 On nomads, see Markov 1976; Pletneva 1982; Khazanov 1984. 3 Mačinskij 1971, 50. 4 Kopylov & Larenok 1994, 5; Kopylov 1999, 174‑175. 5 Koshelenko & Kuznetsov 1998, 255. 6 Gajdukevič 1971, 32‑38, 170‑255. 7 Vinogradov 1993a, 86; 1999a, 104‑105; 2005, 222; but see Tsetskhladze 1997, 44; Molev 1997, 9. 8 Vachtina, Vinogradov & Rogov 1980, 155‑161; Vinogradov 2005, 214‑220. 9 Vinogradov 1993a, 88‑89; 2005, 223; on Olbia see: Kryžickij, Bujskich, Burakov & Otreško 1989, 12‑95. 10 Kuznecov 1992, 32, 42; Vinogradov 1999b, 288‑290; 2005, 224‑225; Vachtina & Vinogradov 2001, 41‑45; Butyagin, Vakhtina & Vinogradov 2003, 803‑804. 11 Kopylov 1999, 174‑175. 12 Vinogradov 1999b, 290‑293; Vachtina & Vinogradov 2001, 41‑45. The traditional conception of the absence of Greek fortifications in the 6th century BC in the northern Black Sea area is incorrect; see Šelov-Kovedjaev 1985, 62; Tolstikov 1986, 167‑168; 1997, 209. 13 Vinogradov 1999a, 108; 2000a, 230‑231. 14 Vinogradov 1980, 70‑110; Tolstikov 1984, 24‑59; Šelov-Kovedjaev 1985, 66‑67; Vasil’ev 1992, 111‑128. 15 Marčenko & Vinogradov 1989, 807; Alekseev 1993, 28‑38; 2003, 168‑193; Vinogradov 2001c, 124‑127; 2002, 184‑185. 16 Murzin & Skory 1994, 70‑71; Skoryj 1997, 70. 17 Vinogradov 1980, 71; Marčenko 1980, 142‑143; 1982, 126‑136; Kryzhitsky 2005, 127; Ochotnikov 2001, 103. 18 Tolstikov 1984, 26‑31; 1986, 168‑170; Šelov-Kovedjaev 1985, 67; Vinogradov 1992, 107; 2005, 238‑245; Vinogradov & Tochtas’ev 1994, 58; Vachtina 1995, 33; Alekseeva 1997, 18. 19 Shelov 1978, 11‑32; Anochin 1986, 14‑16; Vasil’ev 1992, 128. 20 Vinogradov 2001a, 77‑87; 2005, 245‑248. 21 Vinogradov 2002, 191‑192; 2005, 259‑260. 22 Marčenko & Vinogradov 1989, 809. 23 Vinogradov & Marčenko 1995, 81. 24 Kruglikova 1975, 53‑101, 254, fig. 101; Maslennikov 1998, 43; Paromov 1990, 64. 25 Marčenko, Žitnikov & Kopylov 2000, 248‑252. 26 Gajdukevič 1971, 65‑84; Šelov-Kovedjaev 1985, 82‑143. 27 Vinogradov 2005, 268‑274. 28 Šelov-Kovedjaev 1985, 156; Jakovenko 1985, 28; Vinogradov 2005, 275. 29 Marčenko & Vinogradov 1989, 811. 30 Rostovtzeff 1930, 577. 31 See Vinogradov 2003a, 77‑92.

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32 Vinogradov 1997a, 122; 1999, 59‑62; Vinogradov, Marčenko & Rogov 1997, 93; Brujako 1999, 84‑88; Alekseev 2003, 277. 33 Vinogradov 2003b, 217‑222. 34 Simonenko & Lobaj 1991, 78; Polin 1992, 111‑112, 120‑121; Simonenko 1994, 116, 119; Polin & Simonenko 1997, 92; Marčenko 1996, 72; Vinogradov 1997a, 123, n. 96; Vinogradov 1999c, 57‑58, 76. 35 Vinogradov, Marčenko & Rogov 1997, 19; Vinogradov 1999c, 80. 36 Kryžickij, Bujskich, Burakov & Otreško 1989, 100; Ochotnikov 2001, 115; Vinogradov & Ščeglov 1990, 362; Rogov 2005, 196. 37 Zin’ko 1996, 16; Maslennikov 1997, 63, 65; 1998, 88; 2005, 164; Vinogradov 2005, 283‑284. 38 Tolstikov 1986, 171; Vinogradov 2005, 283‑284. 39 Rostovtzeff 1930, 574; Gajdukevič 1959, 277; Dem’jančuk & Turovskij 1999, 92; Vinogradov 2005, 289‑290. 40 Šelov 1978, 89‑94; Vinogradov 2005, 289‑290. 41 Vinogradov 2005, 285‑287. 42 Anfimov 1951, 242; 1958, 52. 43 Anfimov 1967, 130. 44 Vinogradov 1993b, 38‑51; 2005, 290‑294. 45 Marčenko, Žitnikov & Kopylov 2000, 70‑71, 252‑261. 46 Šelov 1970, 23; 1989, 47; Arsen’eva, Böttger & Fornasier 2001, 330‑336. 47 Rostovtzeff 1930, 581; 1932, 227. 48 Marčenko 1996, 70‑80; Vinogradov 1999c, 56‑82. 49 Vinogradov 1999c, 59‑61; Maslennikov 2005, 165. 50 Shelov 1978, 133‑138; Anochin 1986, 56‑58. 51 Vinogradov 1999c, 61‑63. The Malaja Bliznica Barrow must be excluded from this list. M.I. Rostovcev dated it to the late 3rd century BC (Rostowzew 1931, 333), but the mound does not belong to this period. It is an important monument of Bosporan culture of the 4th century BC; see Vinogradov 2004, 89‑111. 52 Rostovcev 1914, 199; Rostovtzeff 1922, 115. 53 Vinogradov 2003b, 222‑223. 54 Desjatčikov 1973, 131‑144. 55 Molev 1994, 55. 56 Gajdukevič 1971, 328ff, 337ff, 362, 471. 57 Onajko 1967, 377; Sokol’skij 1976, 46; Sorokina 1985, 377. 58 Vinogradov 1987, 55‑86; 1997b, 100‑132. 59 Jajlenko 1990, 129. 60 See Gajdukevič 1971, 303‑318; Vinogradov 1997b, 549‑556. 61 Vinogradov 2001b, 65‑69. 62 See Rostovtzeff 1932, 232; Gajdukevič 1971, 318; Molev 1976, 56‑69; 1995, 45‑46; Saprykin 1996, 151. 63 Šelov 1978, 56‑58; 1983, 53. 64 Vinogradov 2000b, 91. 65 Jajlenko 1990, 130; Vinogradov 2000b, 92‑93. 66 Kallistov 1938, 283. 67 Gotier 1925, 187.

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Vinogradov, Ju.A. 2003b. Two Waves of Sarmatian Migrations in the Black Sea Steppes during the Pre-Roman Period, in: P. Guldager Bilde, J.M. Højte & V.F. Stolba (eds.), The Cauldron of Ariantas. Studies presented to A.N. Ščeglov on the occasion of his 70th birthday. Aarhus, 217‑226. Vinogradov, Ju.A. 2004. Kurgan Malaja Bliznica (istorija izučenija i datirovka), Bosporskie issledovanija 7, 89‑111. Vinogradov, Ju.A. 2005. Bospor Kimmerijskij, in: K.K. Marčenko (ed.), Greki i varvary Severnogo Pričernomor’ja v skifskuju epochu. St Peterburg, 211‑296. Vinogradov, J.A. & K.K. Marčenko 1989. Das nördliche Schwarzmeergebiet in der skythischen Epoche. Periodisierung der Geschichte, Klio 71, 539‑549. Vinogradov, Ju.A., K.K. Marčenko & E.Ja. Rogov 1997. Sarmaty i gibel’ Velikoj Skifii, VDI 3, 93‑103. Vinogradov, Ju.A. & K.K. Marčenko 1995. Greki i skify Severo-Zapadnogo Pričernomor’ja v V v. do n.e., VDI 1, 80‑84. Vinogradov, Ju.A. & K.K. Marčenko 2005. Periodizacija istorii Severnogo Pričernomor’ja v skifskuju epochu, in: K.K. Marčenko (ed.), Greki i varvary Severnogo Pričernomor’ja v skifskuju epochu. St Peterburg, 27‑41. Vinogradov, Ju.A. & S.R. Tochtas’ev 1994. Rannjaja oboronitel’naja stena Mirmekija, VDI 1, 54‑63. Vinogradov, Ju.G. 1980. Die historische Entwicklung der Poleis der nördlichen Schwarzmeergebietes im 5. Jahrhundert v. Chr., Chiron 10, 53‑100. Vinogradov, Ju.G. 1987. Votivnaja nadpis’ dočeri carja Skilura iz Pantikapeja i problemy istorii Skifii i Bospora vo II v. do n.e., VDI 1, 55‑86. Vinogradov, Ju.G. 1997a. Chersonesskij dekret ‘O nesenii Dionisa’ IOSPE I² 343 i vtorženie sarmatov v Skifiju, VDI 3, 104‑124. Vinogradov, Ju.G. 1997b. Pontische Studien. Mainz. Vinogradov, Ju.G. 1999. Razgrom sarmatami Velikoj Skifii: sledy ordy vedut v Tavridu, in: P.P. Toločko (ed.), Problemy skifo-sarmatskoj archeologii Sever‑ nogo Pričernomor’ja. Zaporož’e, 59‑62. Vinogradov, Ju.G. & A.N. Ščeglov 1990. Obrazovanie territorial’nogo Chersonesskogo gosudarstva, in: E.S. Golubcova (ed.), Ellinizm: ekonomika, politika, kul’tura. Moskva, 310‑371. Zin’ko, V.N. 1996. Nekotorye itogi izučenija sel’skoj okrugi antičnogo Nimfeja, Materialy po archeologii, istorii i etnogtafii Tavriki 5, 12‑20.

Some Reflections on Eschatological Currents, Diasporic Experience, and Group Identity in the Northwestern Black Sea Region Pia Guldager Bilde

Discussions on Greek colonization tend to focus on material matters: Who were involved? Which were the resources that attracted settling abroad? What was the character and status of the newly founded installations? This approach tends to see the settlers as pawns in a game. But they were not just that: they were also humans of flesh and blood. How did they perceive themselves in the new situation? How did this perception change over the generations? And did the experience contribute to creating a new collective identity? As we can gather from the recent summaries by G. Tsetskhladze (1994) and E. Petropoulos (2005) we possess very few data concerning the reasons for settling in the Black Sea region. However, in particular Tsetskhladze underlines that many settlements were founded in response to political and ecological crises in the settlers’ homeland. According to C. Dougherty, who has analyzed ancient “colonial” literature in general, settling abroad was almost always conceived of and remembered as a fearful experience (1993). Though this type of literature according to Dougherty is to be acknowledged as historical representation, not as description of ancient facts, it nevertheless provides us with a glimpse into the psychology of settling abroad. The ancient settler’s experience is most fully demonstrated by the writing of Seneca to his grieving mother left behind following his exile in Corsica (41‑48 AD). And since it also touches upon the experience of the Pontic Greeks, the paragraph is worth quoting (almost) in full: Why do we find Greek cities in the very heart of barbarian countries? …Scythia and all that great stretch which is peopled with fierce and unconquered tribes show Achaean towns planted on the shores of the Pontic Sea; not by the fierceness of eternal winter, not by the temper of the inhabitants, as savage as their climate, were men deterred from seeking there new homes. …Some have not settled upon a place from choice, but, tossed about in long wandering, from very weariness have seized upon the nearest;

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Pia Guldager Bilde others have established their right in a foreign land by the sword; some tribes, seeking unknown regions, were swallowed up by the sea; some settled in the spot in which a lack of supplies had stranded them. And not all have had the same reason for leaving their country and seeking a new one. Some, having escaped the destruction of their cities by the forces of the enemy, have been thrust into strange lands when stripped of their own; some have been cast out by civil discord; some have gone forth in order to relieve the pressure from over-crowding caused by an excess of population; some have been driven out by pestilence or repeated earthquakes or certain unbearable defects of an unproductive soil; some… have been beguiled by the fame of a fertile shore that was too highly praised. Different peoples have been impelled by different reasons to leave their homes (ad Helviam 7.1, 3‑5).1

In addition to the mainly traumatic reasons for migration listed by Seneca, the host country’s response to the arrival of foreign settlers may also have posed new threats that could have influenced the settlers’ perception of security or lack of same. Turning to the Black Sea region, the general impression is that power relations between the Greek settlers and their “host society”, the indigenous tribes, was and remained labile. This implied that the Greeks recurrently were obliged to negotiate their way (see also J.M. Højte’s contribution to this volume). And as mentioned by Seneca, landscape and climate also represented challenges as did the local inhabitants. With this paper I shall attempt to probe into the settlers’ response to their new living conditions. My point of departure will be to question why we in the Black Sea region, as well as in another colonial area of the Greek world, Magna Graecia, witness the same early and contemporary development of the similar type of religiosity, namely the parallel development of local Dionysos religion (with Orphism and Pythagoraism as partly overlapping subcategories), which was centred on other worldly, transcendent and utopian hopes. I propose to employ the notion of diaspora as a heuristic tool, which can help us contextualise this particular type of utopian thinking within a broader framework. First we shall cast a brief look at the evidence for eschatological thinking in the Black Sea region; then we shall discuss various current diaspora models. Finally, we shall briefly consider the possibility of cultural Greek-barbarian osmosis between at least members of the elites.

Eschatological thinking in the Black Sea region and beyond Our knowledge of the early development of the advanced religious thinking surrounding the worship of Dionysos Bakchaios derives from finds made in Olbia in the 1950s, ‘60s, and ‘70s. These finds have provided us with an understanding of his cult in the city in the late 6th and 5th century BC, and they

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are, thus, precious evidence for the early popularity of a cult, which according to Herodotos even attracted the Scythian elite.2 The mirror from a grave dating to c. 500 BC with the inscription Demonassa, daughter of Lenaios euai, and Lenaios, son of Demokles eiai points to the early existence of the cult in the city and its importance in a funerary context.3 In addition to the mirror, five ingraved bone plaques4 from the second or third quarter of the 5th century BC,5 which were found in the Central Temenos, have settled beyond doubt that in the city religious ideas flourished that (a) coupled Dionysos with eschatological thinking; (b) were dualistic (soma-psyke); (c) entertained the idea of death as a new beginning, perhaps even one of reincarnation (bios-thanatosbios). They have also proven the existence of Orphics as a group of people devoted to the worship of Dionysos (Rusjaeva 1978; Zhmud’ 1992, 160). A related bone plaque mentioning Apollon was found in Berezan’. This plaque has also been connected with Orphic (or Pythagoraean) cult due to the number mysticism expressed on it.6 As it does not mention Dionysos, however, it is left out here, though it is an eloquent evidence of contemporary parallel speculative thinking. As mentioned, the five Dionysian bone plaques were found in the cultural layers in Olbia’s Central Temenos. We do not know what their purpose was, but they may have been tokens of an initiatory cult, perhaps symbola proper. The plaques have been dealt with at length in the scholarly literature, so I see no reason to repeat this here. There is, however, one minor detail I want to mention, namely a zigzag symbol, which is incised on all five plaques. This symbol is variously interpreted: as the letter Z,7 by Rusjaeva, proposed to be the first letter of Zagreus (Rusjaeva 1978, 90), or the letter N (Rusjaeva 1978, 88), or as a snake or a thunder bolt (West 1982, 19). But with its longstretched shape this is not a letter and its sharp zigzags show that it is not a snake either. I should like to propose that what is represented is a key. We find identical representations on a number of terracotta discs, found in tombs in Magna Graecia dating to the late Classical and Hellenistic period.8 These discs contain a number of symbols, which we also find on the contemporary South Italian funerary vases, such as torches, thunderbolts, ladder-shaped musical instruments,9 wheels, caducei etc. Their function is contested; however they can be contextualized in a religious sphere, which is concerned with the underworld and the afterlife. One of these discs, a large disc from Brundisium, features the apotheosis of Ariadne and accordingly can be securely understood as Dionysian. To my mind, the mentioned parallels show beyond doubt, that the Olbia symbol is neither a snake, nor a thunderbolt, but a key. The question is how Dionysos can be associated with a key and what that key could lock/unlock. The only Greek deity who had a key as his known attribute was Hades, and the concept of Hades’ key was well known in antiquity. Outside Magna Graecia and the Pontic region, Hades himself was rarely depicted, but we know from Pausanias’ description of the decoration of a chryselephantine

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table in the temple of Hera in Olympia that he could be portrayed with the key in his hand: …on the other [side] are Pluto, Dionysus, Persephone and nymphs, one of them carrying a ball. As to the key (Pluto holds a key) they say that what is called Hades has been locked up by Pluto, and that nobody will return back again therefrom (5.20.3). To possess the key of Hades is to master life after death. The same thought was formulated by Christ as quoted in the Revelation of John: “I am he who lives, and was dead, and behold, I am alive for evermore, and I hold the key of Hades and of death” (1.18; cf. Matt 7.13‑14, 16, 18). The plaques may thus have expressed the invisible by means of visible representation. J. Vinogradov was of the opinion that only the three plaques found together were Orphic. However, I think that the key symbol connects at least four, perhaps all five plaques. The Olbia finds are foremost interesting because here we see, if not the genesis then at least the evidence for, how early and widespread this particular type of Dionysianism was. The mirror gives the earliest attested instance of the Bacchic exclamation euai (Dubois 1996, 145), and the bone plaques constitute the first attestation of the name of the thiasos of Orphic initiates, orfikoi (Zhmud’ 1992, 160). So it is beyond doubt that Dionysianism and Orphism was in vogue during the early years of Olbia’s existence. L. Dubois has even suggested (1996, 152) that the city name of Olbia itself, the “happy and bountiful”, may have been inspired by the local Orphic milieu, and he mentions in support of this thesis the unique parallel phrasing we find, on the one hand, on a bone plaque from Berezan’ reading eirene Olbiei polí makarizo ekei (SEG 36.694; Rusjaeva 1986) and, on the other hand, on one of the so-called Orphic gold plaques from Thurioi with the almost identical sentence: olbie kai makar‑ iste – theos d’esei antì brotoio.10 The role of Dionysos in eschatological thinking in the Black Sea region is recurrently found, especially in the northwestern part of the region, and not just in the early period. One may wonder about the significance of the lead tokens dating from the 4th to 2nd century BC found in tombs in Olbia, in Olbia’s chora as well as in Apollonia, which have been suggested to be connected with the cult of Dionysos Zagreus.11 But we are on firmer ground, I believe, with a large body of terracotta altars dating to the 3rd and 2nd century BC found in the region that convey the image of Dionysos as champion over death on behalf of his adherents (Guldager Bilde 2005a and b; Guldager Bilde 2006). In the same region we also find the cult of Achilleus diffused (e.g. Hupe 2006). It is generally believed that this cult with its connection to the White Island (Leuke) of the Blessed was also coloured by eschatological thinking. But too little is known of what it could offer its devotees, and it is therefore left out here.

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Above I have mentioned parallels in Magna Graecia several times. Material culture reveals the interrelatedness of the two regions, and the ancients themselves perceived the two regions as connected with myths of soul migration (Hinge 2004; Hinge in this volume). Although the Dionysian eschatological doctrines had followers all over the Greek world, it seems to have flourished in Magna Graecia in particular. In fact, until the above quoted finds from Olbia became known, these doctrines were considered characteristic for the culture of Magna Graecia (e.g. Bottini 1992).

Eschatological thinking as expression of diasporic consciousness? Why did so many Greeks from the two regions resort to other worldly or utopian hopes? And why was the development in the two regions contemporary and parallel? The answer lies, I believe, in the fact that the two regions were both Greek satellites planted in non-Greek territories which were situated in the peripheries of the Greek world, and in both regions the indigenous population not only presented challenges but also sources of inspiration for the Greek settlers. In his influential article on Hellenistic religion in the Encyclopedia Britanica (Macropedia; 1980), Jonathan Z. Smith suggested that “utopian” religious practices were something characteristic of “diasporic centres”: Diasporic religion, in contrast to native, locative religion, was utopian in the strictest sense of the word, a religion of “nowhere”, of transcendence. …Rather than a god who dwelt in his temple, the diasporic traditions evolved complicated techniques for achieving visions, epiphanies (manifestations of a god), or heavenly journeys to a transcendent god. This led to a change from concern for a religion of national prosperity to one for individual salvation…12 Smith considered this type of religious practice as particularly characteristic of the Hellenistic period, and his use of the term “diasporic” was parallel to that of “immigrant”. Taking into account that the article was written in 1980, this is perhaps not surprising. His use of the word diaspora is coloured by the Jewish experience. Thus, the word has negative connotations such as exile, oppression and loss, as well as settling as a minority group in a hostile host country. The background for this association is a long tradition in scholarship on Hellenistic religion and mystery cults that view these as (negative or pessimistic) responses to the new “global” world of the Hellenistic period. Today, this view has been modified, and need not worry us here. What is important in the present context is his association of non-locative, utopian religion and the notion of diaspora. In the following I will argue that the notion of diaspora may, in fact, be of some use as a heuristic model13 also concerning the pre-

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Hellenistic period. Let us therefore consider the hypothesis that it was the diasporic situation in the Greek colonies in Magna Graecia and the Black Sea region that furthered eschatological religiosity. In order to do so, we will need to look a little bit closer at the term diaspora itself as well as the sociological models inspired by it.

Diaspora models The term diaspora derives from ancient Greek διασπορά, “a scattering or sowing of seeds”. Originally, the term diaspora was used to refer specifically to the populations of Jews exiled from Judea in 586 BC by the Babylonians, and from Jerusalem in 135 AD by the Roman Empire (the Diaspora, capitalised). In modern times it is used interchangeably to refer to the process of dispersal, the dispersed community and its culture, as well as the geographical space of the dispersal. Despite some authors stating the contrary, it was never used by the Greeks themselves as a way of describing their own migrations.14 Since the mid-1960s, the term has been used metaphorically as a sociological model in African studies (e.g. A. Cohen 1969/1971), but it is not until the early 1990s that a true diaspora model has been developed. In 1991, the first volume of an international, multidisciplinary periodical by the name of Diaspora. A Journal of Transnational Studies was issued, edited by K. Tölöyan. In the foreword he furnished the term with the following broad definition: We use ‘diaspora’ provisionally to indicate our belief that the term that once described Jewish, [modern, PGB] Greek, and Armenian dispersion now shares meanings with a larger semantic domain that includes words like immigrant, expatriate, refugee, guestworker, exile community, overseas community, ethnic community (Tölölian 1991, 4‑5). One article printed in this journal in particular has come to provide the repeatedly quoted point of departure in sociological and anthropological literature for the understanding of the term, namely W. Safran’s article, “Diasporas in Modern Societies: Myths of Homeland and Return” (Safran 1991). Safran’s definition is also based on the Jewish diaspora as the paradigmatic example, and this evidently colours it. In the late 20th century, still wider groups of people define themselves as diasporas in their struggle for recognition.15 At the same time, and perhaps spurred by this, particularly in the social sciences, the diaspora model has been developed further and expanded, refined and redefined into a forceful analytic tool. And, inevitably, at the same time the term has also become more loose in its theoretical construct mainly as a result of its attempt to free itself of its origin based on the particular Jewish experience.16 A major step forward was taken by the sociologist R. Cohen. In his seminal book Global

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Diasporas (1997, repr. in 1999 and 2001) he proposed a diaspora “typology” by distinguishing between groups of persons scattered, on the one hand, for aggressive reasons and, on the other hand, for voluntarist reasons (p. 24). He ends up defining five types of diasporas (Cohen 1997, xi): 1) The classical victim diaspora (key examples: the Jews, Armenians and Palestinians); 2) The labour diaspora (key example: migrants from the Indian sub continent); 3) The imperial diaspora (a result of colonization, for example, the British) and adding p. 67: the quasi-imperial diaspora (cases where localization or creolization occurred with the new settlers marrying into the local community or turning against their homeland); 4) The trade diaspora (key example: the Lebanese, but he also refers to the ancient Greeks [already Curtin 1984]); 5) The cultural diaspora (key example: the black African and Caribbeans). It is recognised that there can be overlap between the different “types”, and that one “type” can develop from one to another. Today Cohen’s book provides the starting point for the analysis of the diaspora as a phenomenon, and it is his model I propose to use (Cohen 1997, 26, pl. 1.1). He then defines the following features as common of a diaspora: 1) Dispersal from an original homeland, often traumatically, to two or more foreign regions; 2) Alternatively, the expansion from a homeland in search of work, in pursuit of trade or to further colonial ambitions; 3) A collective memory and myth about the homeland, including its location, history and achievements; 4) An idealization of the putative ancestral home and a collective commitment to its maintainance, restoration, safety and prosperity, even to its creation; 5) A development of a return movement that gains collective approbation; 6) A strong ethnic group consciousness sustained over a long time and based on a sense of distinctiveness, a common history and the belief in a common fate; 7) A troubled relationship with host societies, suggesting a lack of acceptance at the least or the possibility that another calamity might befall the group; 8) A sense of empathy and solidarity with co-ethnic members in other countries of settlement; 9) The possibility of a distinctive creative, enriching life in host countries with a tolerance for pluralism.

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To Cohen the difference between an immigrant society and a diaspora is that, in his opinion, the diaspora “…”creolize” or indiginize not at all or only in a very limited way and continue to retain their link, sometimes their dependence, on the “Motherland””, whereas immigrants and immigrant communities assimilate or blend in after few generations (traditionally considered to be three to four) so that the original ethnic identity can no longer be distinguished.17 Therefore “a strong tie to the past or a block to assimilation in the present and future must exist in order to permit a diasporic consciousness to emerge or be retained” (Cohen 1997, 24). This discrimination between diaspora and immigration can also be found in J. Shuval’s definition of a diaspora as …a social construct founded on feeling, consciousness, memory, mythology, history, meaningful narratives, group identity, longings, dreams, allegorical and virtual elements, all of which play a role in establishing a diaspora reality. At a given moment in time, the sense of connection to a homeland must be strong enough to resist forgetting, assimilating or distancing (2000, 43). In the early 21st century there has still been a further semantic gliding of the term diaspora. Whereas it was understood primarily as a social form concerned with the extent and nature of social, political and economic relationships, it now, in addition, also designates a particular type of consciousness involving aspects of collective memory and an awareness of identities spanning “hereand-there” (hence the shift of focus from “diaspora” to “diasporic”), and it is also understood as a mode of cultural reproduction especially in the format of a bottom-up process (Vertovec 2004, 279; see also Baumann 2000, 326). According to the mentioned theoreticians, this consciousness was shaped by what has been termed the “triadic” or “tripolar” relationship between (a) the immigrant group, (b) the host society, and (c) the country of origin (Safran 1991; Baumann 2000, 327), and it also discloses “lateral relationship” between various diasporic centres at the same level as the relationship to the “homeland”.18

Diaspora and pagan Antiquity? Returning to the Greeks, I think we can let us be inspired by the abovementioned diaspora models and the general patterns behind the creation of a particular diasporic consciousness. However, I am well aware that this may be viewed as provocative by some scholars. In their belief that the experience of migrants throughout time and space can be applied to Greek settlers too, sociologists have had no problems applying the diaspora model to ancient Greek migration or “colonization”.19 R. Cohen, already quoted, for example, places the ancient Greeks in his category trade diaspora.20 Nevertheless, scholars hesitate to study the Greeks as we would study modern migrant groups. This is probably due to the fact that the study of Classics has neither rid itself com-

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pletely of its Hellenocentric point of departure nor has it been completely decolonized. Thus, since migrants (as well as diaspora populations) traditionally are viewed as being in a minority position, and because the semantic baggage of the term in its original association with experiences now classified as vic‑ tim diasporas has not been found to cover the Greek “experience”, even today most classicists and archaeologists refrain from employing the term diaspora. A look-up in the rich indices of I. Hodder’s Archaeological Theory Today (2001) and in C. Renfrew and P. Bahn’s Archaeology. The Key Concepts (2005) provide not a single reference to the term. It is only in L. Meskell and R. Preucel’s A Companion to Social Archaeology (2004) we find it employed in the context of world archaeology (Lilley 2004). When used in literature on antiquity, the term is almost exclusively applied to the ancient Jewish diaspora. As far as I am aware, the first time that the notion of diaspora has been used on pagan antiquity as a leading idea is in the proceedings from an international congress which was held in Montreal in 1988, dedicated to The Hellenic diaspora from antiquity to modern times and published in 1991 edited by J. Fossey. This initiative was inspired by Fossey’s own interest in the modern Greek diaspora. In the first volume of the conference publication, which is concerned with Greco-Roman antiquity, the term diaspora was mainly used associatively (if at all) and it is not based on any common model. The book was simply too early out. However, it is interesting to note that it was part of the same trend that also created the journal Diaspora already mentioned (initiated also in 1991), namely the result of a contemporary diaspora community of Greeks reflecting upon their own past. Since then, among classicists, diaspora has been used to describe religious communities other than the Jews living outside their core area, such as the Pythagoraeans (Cordiano 1999) and the adherents of Isis (Ensoli 2005). Surely, models are heuristic devices and should not be used as rigid checklists. To my mind, however, the importance of the diaspora model is that it can open a window to a large comparative body of cross-temporal, crossspatial and cross-cultural material that provides us with an understanding of the patterns in behaviour among settlers in their quest for maintaining and/ or developing group identity in relation to, on the one hand, the local community and, on the other hand, to their country of origin. This we can use in order to address our own inadequate body of material and to discover some of the mechanisms or processes at stake in situations of culture meetings or colonial encounters – also in the Pontic region.

Diaspora and religious responses Leaving home may provide new opportunities but it can also be a traumatic experience, as we saw in Seneca. The diaspora model insists that the reason for the migration/dispersal is of paramount importance for the direction in which a diasporic consciousness may develop (Baumann 2003, 47; Vertovec

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2004, 282). If I am justified in my supposition that the Greek settlers for many reasons felt insecure and under stress in the Black Sea region, it is very likely that it resulted in a religious response.21 Such a supposition is supported by an investigation recently published by R. Inglehart and P. Norris. In their book Sacred and Secular. Religion and Politics Worldwide (Cambridge, 2004) they analyse a huge body of cross-cultural evidence deriving from the four times repeated World Values Survey executed from 1981 to 2001 in 80 different societies, rich and poor, covering all of the world’s major faiths. They conclude that “exposure to physical, societal and personal risks drives religiosity. Conversely, a systematic erosion of religious practices, values and beliefs has occurred among the more prosperous strata in rich nations”. Since the mid-1990s a number of scholarly works has appeared that address precisely the issue of religion and religiosity as a response to a diasporic situation. First to be mentioned are the publications by M. Baumann (2000; 2003) and S. Vertovec (2004). They conclude that religion in the diaspora can take many forms: religious conservatism and orthodoxy is one possibility, utopian or eschatological thinking is another. In the Black Sea region we find a good example of religious conservatism in the wide-spread cult of Apollon Iatros. The last conclusion is compatible with J. Smith’s proposition, which we started with, and it corresponds equally well with what we know about the Jewish diaspora.22 Though eschatological thinking may have its origin in negative experiences, we miss the point completely if we relegate it to the esoteric corner as gloomy escapism. Claiming a new identity and a new “life” as an initiate in the Dionysos Bakchaios cult is not, as imagined by R. Edmonds in his analysis of the so-called Orphic gold plaques, “a sign of “counterculture” enacted by socially “marginal” groups or individuals”,23 on the contrary. Utopian religions offer new opportunities in relation to old cults left behind, and privileged status as initiated can form a new power base not just in the afterlife but also in this life. Precisely the archaeological material can help us in nuancing our understanding of these processes with its time/space dimension as well as its potential as indicator of gender/age/status. Returning to the already mentioned finds from Olbia, at least the mirror provides us with a secure indication of the high social status of the initiated as we can glean from the inscribed aristocratic names: Demonassa and Demokles. In addition, it should not be forgotten that the Dionysos Bakchaios cult could even attract a member of the Scythian elite, King Skyles, to become initiated (Herodotos 4.78‑80). The contextualization of the terracotta altars mentioned above provides the same picture. Thus, one altar, for example, was found in the rich Chersonesean house, the so-called House of Apollonios,24 and also in the home chora of the same city, altars were found in the house sanctuaries of a number of farmhouses (plot 39, 106, 151). It has been repeatedly underlined that the elite also in Magna Graecia was the driving force behind the development of this cult.25 So if the eschatological

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doctrines, celebrating the future rather than the present, which flourished in the Greek peripheries were “subversive”, this was perhaps rather in relation to the Greek “centre”, where these trends in Dionysianism were viewed as basically foreign.26

Culture change through hybridization? 27 Today, we witness an increased awareness of the contribution from the indigenous milieus in the colonial encounter. Indeed, the very locus of this encounter, be that perceived of as “periphery”, “frontier”, “beach” or “diaspora”, is in much sociological literature being celebrated as zones of particular creativity.28 In the Black Sea region, though, because we only possess little or contested evidence on the matter, eschatological currents among the indigenous population should be considered briefly as possible sources of inspiration too. In Greece there was a persistent tradition for linking the Thracians with strong eschatological currents (see also the contribution by G. Hinge in this volume). The best example is of course Orpheus, who, according to one coherent set of myths, was son of the epichoric priest-king, the river Oiagros personified29 and the grandson of Charops to whom Dionysos had given instruction in the rites and ceremonies connected with the Mysteries (the second “biographical myth” making him the son of Apollon and the Muse of epic poetry, Kalliope, is probably an interpretatio graeca). The figure of Orpheus finds a close parallel in Rhesos, similarly a king of Thrace, the son of the Muse Euterpe and another Thracian river, namely Strymon. Rhesos died on the Trojan side by the hands of Odysseus and Diomedes (Hom. Il. 10.432‑502). In Euripides’ play, Rhesos (authorship contested), the Muse, his mother, evokes his afterlife after being set free by Persephone as an “anthropodaimon hiding in an underground grotto yet seeing the light” (970‑971). Herodotos unfolds a third myth in relation to the Thracians concerning belief in immortality. According to him Their [the Getai’s] belief in their immortality [athanatizousi] is as follows: they believe that they do not die, but that one who perishes goes to the deity [daimon] Salmoxis, or Gebeleïzis, as some of them call him.30  …I understand from the Greeks who live beside the Hellespont and Pontus, that this Salmoxis was a man who was once a slave in Samos, his master being Pythagoras son of Mnesarchus; then, after being freed and gaining great wealth, he returned to his own country. … therefore he made a hall [andreion], where he entertained and fed the leaders among his countrymen, and taught them that neither he nor his guests nor any of their descendants would ever die, but that they would go to a place where they would live forever and have all good things (4.94‑95).

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Then follows a story of a “religious fraud”, how he built an underground chamber, vanished hither, stayed there for three years and eventually “reappeared to the Thracians, and thus they came to believe what Salmoxis had told them. Such is the Greek story about him” (4.95). But Herodotos continues: Now I neither disbelieve nor entirely believe the tale about Salmoxis and his underground chamber; but I think that he lived many years before Pythagoras; and as to whether there was a man called Salmoxis or this is some deity native to the Getae, let the question be dismissed (4.96). Herodotos’ distanced view of the local Pontic Greeks’ interpretation is noticeable, not least his rejection of the evident interpretatio Graeca subordinating Salmoxis as a pupil or slave of Pythagoras. The contemporary Hellanikos was of the same opinion (FGrH 4 F 73). Unfortunately, we have very few sources to Salmoxis, but his Getic affiliation can hardly be contested. Evidently it is difficult to reach behind these myths. Nevertheless, the Greeks themselves believed that the type of Dionysianism connected with the name of Orpheus was to be located in Thrace – and in some “biographical myths”, Dionysos was even viewed as coming from that periphery to the Greek world. In fact, he was not. His name is found among the Linear B texts as di-wo-nu-so. But Dionysos was a god of many faces, and one of his identities was seemingly shaped in the Thracian environment. Thus, eschatological doctrines also flourished among the Thracian tribes – and also as part of an elite culture. The Thracian religious figures were viewed as “kings” (Rhesos, Orpheus, Salmoxis), and their doctrines similarly circulated among the elite, cf. Herodotos’ description of Salmoxis entertaining the “leaders among his countrymen in the andreion” already mentioned.

Conclusion The eschatological currents in the Pontic region as well as in Magna Graecia may have originated as a response to insecure living conditions, and, accordingly, be seen as an element of a diasporic consciousness. Seemingly, these currents were driven by the elite and they, in turn, became “a new beginning” and a new power base which, in a way, may have connected the diasporic centres independently from – and perhaps even in opposition to – the Greek “homeland”. It cannot be excluded that at least the Pontic Greeks in their development of eschatological thinking were under influence from indigenous religion on the level of the elite. That the indigenous religious thinking in turn was part of a much wider cultural complex reaching Sibiria, India and Iran, need not worry us here. It must suffice to say that the example of Black Sea eschatology demonstrates the creative potential of the meeting  – and mixing – of cultures.

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Notes 1 Lucius Annaeus Seneca, Moral Essays. Translated by J.W. Basore. The Loeb Classical Library. London, 1928‑1935 (http://www.stoics.com/seneca_essays_ book_2.html#‘HELVIAM1). 2 Cf. the story of the Scythian King Skyles, who was killed by his peers as a result of his initiation into the cult of Olbian Dionysos Bakchaios: 4.78‑80. 3 Rosanova 1968; Rusjaeva 1978, 96‑98; Vinogradov 1991, 83; Bottini 1992, 156; Dubois 1996, 143‑146. 4 Rusjaeva 1978; Burkert 1980; Tinnefeld 1980; West 1982; Vinogradov 1991; Bottini 1992, 151‑156; Zhmud’ 1992; Bernabé 1995, 24‑25; Dubois 1996, 154‑155. 5 Date proposed by J. Vinogradov based on palaeography (1991, 78). 6 Rusjaeva 1986; SEG 36.694; Burkert 1990; Dubois 1996, 93‑114. Dated by Rusjaeva to the third quarter of the 6th century BC, by Dubois taken to be contemporary with the plaques from the Central Temenos, which Vinogradov dates up to 100 years later. 7 Rusjaeva 1978, 88; Vinogradov 1991, 78, Bottini 1992, 155. 8 Wuilleumier 1932; disc in the Ashmolean Museum: McDaniel 1924, 28; disc from Brundisium: Kerényi 1963; Sciarra 1976, cat. 383; disc from Tarentum in the Louvre, D3921: Besques 1986, 105, pl. 104.a. 9 On the backside of the plaque with the incised words eirene polemos aletheia pseudos is a rectangular object divided into seven “boxes” with a round object inside. This has been interpreted as a flute or a board with eggs by Bottini (1992, 154). There can hardly be any doubt that it is the same object, which we find on the Apulian vases, where frequently a white dot is painted on the string/cross bar, as well as on the already mentioned South Italian terracotta discs. The interpretation of the object as a musical instrument is sure, even though it is uncertain which type of instrument it is and also precisely how it was played. 10 Zuntz 1971, 300‑301, A1; Pugliese Carratelli 2001, 102‑111. 11 E.g. Wasowicz & Zdrojewska 1998; Zajceva 1971; 2004. 12 Same in Smith 1978, xiv. 13 Model is here used as a “hypothetical description of a complex entity or process” being a “representation or simulation of something that cannot be directly observed” and a “simplified description of reality” that may “help us to improve our understanding of the … characteristics of reality studied in a more effective way than if it had been observed directly” (selected from the list generated by http://www.google.dk/search?hl=da&lr=&oi=defmore&defl=en&q=define:model). 14 Irmscher 1991, 13; Bauman 2000, 315‑316. 15 Clifford 1994, 310; also Baumann 2000, 323; Shuval 2000, 41; Vertovec 2004, 277. A useful list of notable diasporas is provided and kept updated in the net-based Wikipedia dictionary (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diaspora). 16 It has also been met with critizism e.g. of an in-built ethno-nationalism (Anthias 1998). 17 Cf. also Vertovec 2004, 282: “Diasporas arise from some form of migration, but not all migration involves diasporic consciousness”. 18 In particular Clifford views the “decentered, lateral connections … as important as those formed around a teleology of origin/return” (1994, 306); cf. also Shuval 2000, 45 with further examples. 19 E.g. Shuval 2000, 42; Bauman 2000, 330; 2003, 92‑109; Reis 2004, 45 and many others.

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20 Cohen 1997, 83‑84. 21 Cf. also Millenium: Fear and Religion, IV Conference of the Sociedad Española de Ciencias de las Religiones, Universidad de La Laguna (Tenerife, Canary Islands, Spain), 3‑6 February 2000. Papers available at http://www.ull.es/congresos/conmirel/english.htm; Segal 2004, 180‑182. 22 Smith 1978; 1980; Safran 1991; Clifford 1994, 305; Cohen 1997, 79; Vertovec 2004, 294 and many studies on the Jewish diaspora, e.g. Neusner 2004. 23 Edmonds 2004, 43, 70, 82. This view is rightly critizised by Stephen Halliwell (Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews: http://ndpr.nd.edu/review.cfm?id=2441). 24 Belov 1962, 170‑171, fig. 34.a-b (altar). 25 Redfield 1991; Vinogradov 1991, 84; Bottini 1992. 26 They represented a creative development of the old polis religion in a henotheistic direction, and it could be manipulated as a new and strong power base offering opportunities not as also acknowledged by the Peisistratids, when they tried to control it through creating their own canon of Orphic or rather Musaic writings. Cf. also Clifford’s interesting considerations on the diaspora’s potentially subversive character (1994, 307). 27 E.g. Gosden 2001; Shanks 2001. By using the term hybrid metaphorically to convey a notion of a mix of elements or properties, whereby new properties (good or bad) emerge, we can avoid any judgmental connotations, and in contrast to the terms acculturation or creolization, which pass as synonyms, it does not connote asymmetrical power relations. The term has lately been criticized by Cohen, who wants to place it in inverted commas (1997, 130‑131). He bases his criticism on the plant world, where hybridity confer sterility, and thus to him is an improper metaphor for phenomena relating to human cultures. His use is, though, too narrow. The term hybrid today covers a much wider semantic domain than just the natural world including materials (e.g. reinforced concrete), communication technologies (e.g. hybrid net mixing glass fibre and cobber transmitters), and transportation (hybrid car mixing gas and electricity as propellant). But even in the natural world, hybridity is cultivated in modern production as a means of achieving genetic variation and hybrid vigour (heterosis), such as increased growth or increased resistance to deceases. Hybridity, finally, can come into being not just as part of deliberate design, but also as spontaneous process. 28 Hannertz 1989; Hartog 2001; King 2004; Cohen 1997; Hannertz 1997; Safran 2005, but also already Turner 1920. 29 Pind. Third Threnos fr. 128c; Terpandros fr. 15; Bacchyl. fr. 5b8 (Irigoin); Timoth. fr. 791 (Page); Apollod. 1.3.2; Paus. 9.30.1; Ap. Rhod. 1.24; Hyg. Fab. 14; Nonnus, Dion. 13.430. 30 Different manuscripts of Herodotos’ Historia render the name of the figure as Zalmoxis, Salmoxis, Zamolxis, Samolxis, with a majority of manuscripts favouring Salmoxis (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zalmoxis, retrieved 1 December 2005).

Bibliography Anthias, F. 1998. Evaluating ‘Diaspora’: Beyond Ethnicity?, Sociology 32.3, 557‑580. Baumann, M. 2000. Diaspora: Genealogies of Semantics and Transcultural Comparison, Numen 47, 313‑337.

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Baumann, M. 2003. Alte Götter in neuer Heimart. Religionswissenschaftliche Anal‑ yse zu Diaspora am Beispiel von Hindus auf Trinidad. Marburg. Belov, G.D. 1962. Ellenističeskij dom v Chersonese, TGE 7, 143‑183. Bernabé, A. 1995. Tendencias recientes en el estudio del Orfismo, ‘Ilu. Revista de Ciencias de las Religiones no. 0, 23‑32. Besques, S. 1986. Cataloque raissonné des figurines et reliefs en terre-cuite enrecs, étrusques et romains. IV-I. Époques hellénistique et romaine. Italic méridionale – Sicile – Sardigne. Paris. Borgeaud, Ph. (ed.) 1991. Orphisme et Orphée en l‘honneur de Jean Rudhardt. Genève. Bottini, A. 1992. Archeologia della salvezza. L’escatologia greca nelle testimonianze archeologiche. Milano. Burkert, W. 1980. Neue Funde Sur Orphik, Information zum Alsprachliche Unter‑ rich 2, Oras, 27‑41. Burkert, W. 1990. Apollon Didim i Ol‘vija, VDI, 155‑160. Clifford, J. 1994. Diasporas, Cultural Anthropology 9.3, 302‑338. Cohen, A. 1971. Cultural Stategies in the Organization of Trading Diaspora, in: Claude Mesailloux (ed.), L’Evolution du Commerce en Afrique de L’Ouest. Oxford, 266‑281. Cohen, R. 1997. Global Diasporas. An Introduction. Seattle. Cordiano, G. 1999. La diaspora pitagorica in Dicearco ed Aristosseno. Tradizioni pitagoriche a confronto, Kokalos 45, 301‑327. Curtin, P. 1984. Cross-cultural trade in world history. Cambridge. Dougherty, C. 1993. The Poetics of Colonization: From City to Text in Archaic Greece. Oxford. Dubois, L. 1996. Inscriptions grecques dialectales d’Olbia du Pont. Genève. Edmonds III, R.G. 2004. Myths of the Underworld Journey: Plato, Aristophanes and the ‘Orphic’ Gold Tablets. Cambridge. Ensoli, S. 2005. L’Egitto, la Libia e la più antica diaspora del culto isiaco nel bacino del Mediterraneo. Il santuario di Iside e Serapide sull’acropoli di Cirene, in: Ägyptische Kulte und ihre Heiligtümer im Osten des römischen Reiches. Internationales Kolloquium 5.-6. September 2003 in Bergama, Türkei. Istanbul, 181‑196. Fossey, J.M. (ed.) 1991. The Hellenic diaspora from antiquity to modern times, 1. From antiquity to 1453. Proceedings of the First International Congress, Montréal 17‑22.IV.1988 (McGill University monographs in classical archaeology and history, 10, 1). Amsterdam. Guldager Bilde, P. 2005a. The Olbia situla revisited, Bosporskij Fenomen. St Petersburg, 207‑216. Guldager Bilde, P. 2005b. Roadmap to salvation? Reflexions on a group of Hellenistic terracotta altars, in: Black Sea Area in the System of the Hellenistic World. 11th International Symposium on the Ancient History and Archaeology of the Black Sea Area Vani, September, 2005. Vani, 78‑81.

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Guldager Bilde, P. 2006. Hvad er meningen? Refleksioner over en gruppe hellenistiske terrakottaaltre med reliefdekoration, in: Klassisk Arkæologiske Studier 3. Copenhagen, in print. Hall, S. 1990. Cultural Identity and Diaspora, in: J. Rutherford (ed.), Commu‑ nity, Culture, Difference. London, 222‑237. Hannertz, U. 1989. Culture between Centre and Periphery: Towards Macroanthropology, Ethnos 54, 200‑216. Hannerz, U. 1997 (or later). Flows, boundaries and hybrids. Keywords in transnational anthropology, http://www.transcomm.ox.ac.uk/working  %20 papers/hannerz.pdf Hartog, F. 2001. Memoirs of Odysseus: Frontier Tales from Ancient Greece (French ed. 1996). Chicago. Hinge, G. 2004. Sjælevandring Skythien tur-retur, Sortehavsstudier 2, 11‑27. Gosden, C. 2001. Postcolonial Archaeology: Issues of Culture, Identity and Knowledge, in: I. Hodder (ed.), Archaeological Theory Today, 241‑261. Cambridge. Hupe, J. 2006. The cult of Achilles in the northern Black Sea-area from the beginning of Greek colonization until the Roman Imperial Period. Contributions to the field of acculturation research (Internationale Archäologie 94). Rahden. Irmscher, J. 1991. Der Diasporabegriff in der Antike, in: Fossey (ed.) 1991, 11‑13. Kerényi, K. 1963. Die religionsgeschichtliche Einordnung des diskos von Brindisi, RM 70, 93‑99. King, C. 2004. The Black Sea. A History. Oxford. Lilley, I. 2004. Diaspora and Identity in Archaeology: Moving Beyond the Black Atlantic, in: L. Meskell & R.W. Preucel (eds.), A Companion to Social Archaeology. Oxford. McDaniel, W.B.1924. The Holiness of the Dischi Sacri, AJA 28, 24‑46. Neusner, J. 2004. Transformations in Ancient Judaism: Textual Evidence for Creative Responses to Crisis. Peabody. Petropoulos, E.K. 2005. Hellenic Colonization in Euxeinos Pontos. Penetration, Early Establishment and the Problem of the “Emporion” Revisited (BAR International Series 1394). Oxford. Pugliese Carratelli, G. 2001. Le lamine d’oro orfiche. Milano. Redfield, J. 1991. The Politics of Immortality, in: Borgeaud 1991, 103‑117. Reis, M. 2004. Theorizing Diaspora: Perspectives on “Classical” Diaspora and “Contemporary” Diaspora, International Migration 42.2, 41‑60. Rosanova, N.P. 1968. Bronzovoe zerkalo s nadpis’ju iz Ol’vii, in: Antičnaja istoria i kul’tura Sredizemnomor’ja i Pričernomor’ja. Leningrad, 248‑251. Rusjaeva, A.S. 1978. Orfizm i kul’t Dionisa v Ol’vii, VDI 1, 87‑104. Rusjaeva, A.S. 1986. Milet – Didimy – Borisfen – Ol’vija. Problemy kolonisacii nižnego Pobuž’ja, VDI 2, 25‑64. Safran, W. 1991. Diasporas in Modern Societies: Myths of Homeland and Return, Diaspora 1.1, 83‑99.

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Safran, W. 2005. The Jewish Diaspora in a Comparative and Theoretical Perspective, Israel Studies 10.1, 36‑60. Sciarra, B. 1976. Brindisi. Museo archeologico provinciale. Bologna. Segal, A.F. 2004. Life after Death. A History of the Afterlife in the Religions of the West. New York-London-Toronto-Sydney-Auckland. Shanks, M. 2001. Culture/Archaeology. The Dispersion of a Discipline and its Objects, in: I. Hodder (ed.), Archaeological Theory Today. Cambridge, 284‑305. Shuval, J.T. 2000. Diaspora Migration: Definitional Ambiguities and a Theoretical Paradigm, International Migration 38.5, 41‑56. Smith, J.Z. 1978. Map is not territory: studies in the history of religions. Leiden. Smith, J.Z. 2005 (original text: 1980). Hellenistic religion, Encyclopædia Britan‑ nica. Retrieved December 29, 2005, from Encyclopædia Britannica Online (http://search.eb.com.ez.statsbiblioteket.dk:2048/eb/article-9110630). Stein, G.J. (ed.) 2005. The Archaeology of Colonial Encounters. Santa Fe. Tinnefeld, F. 1980. Referat über zwei russische Aufsätze, ZPE 38, 65‑71. Tsetskhladze, G.R. 2004. Greek Penetration of the Black Sea, in: G.R. Tsetskhladze & F. de Angelis (eds.), The Archaeology of Greek Colonisation.2 Oxford. Turner, F.J. 1920. The Frontier in American History. New York. Tölölian, Kh. 1991. The Nation State and its Others: In Lieu of a Preface, Diaspora 1.1, 3‑7. Vertovec, S. 2004. Religion and Diaspora, in: P. Antes, A.W. Geertz & R.R. Warne (eds.), New Approaches to the Study of Religion. Berlin & New York, 275‑303. Vinogradov, J.G. 1991. Zur sachlichen und geschichtlichen Deutung der Orphiker-Plättchen von Olbia, in: Borgeaud 1991, 77‑86. Wasowicz, A. & W. Zdrojewska 1998. Monuments en plomb d‘Olbia Pontique au Musée National de Varsovie (Monumenta Antiqua Orae Septentrionalis Ponti Euxini Reperta Locisque Externis Deposita 2). Torun. West, M. 1982. The Orphics of Olbia, ZPE 45, 17‑29. Wuilleumier, P. 1932. Les disques de Tarente, RA 5. ser. 35.1, 26‑64. Zajceva, K.I. 1971. Ol’vijskie kul’tovye svincovye izdelija, in: Ku’tura i iskusstvo anticnogo mira. Leningrad 84‑106. Zajceva, K.I. 2004. Svincovye izdelija 4‑2 vv. do n.e. mestnogo proizvodsva Ol’vii, in: Ellenističeskie študii v Ermitaže. Sankt Peterburg, 120‑149. Zhmud’, L. 1992. Orphism and Graffiti from Olbia, Hermes 120, 159‑168. Zuntz, G. 1971. Persephone. Three Essays on Religion and Thought in Magna Gre‑ cia. Oxford.

Phalerae of Horse Harnesses in Votive Depositions of the 2nd-1st Century BC in the North Pontic Region and the Sarmatian Paradigm Valentina Mordvintseva

Phalerae are silver roundels presumably from horse harnesses with representations of different images  – anthropomorphic and zoomorphic  – and ornamented with floral and geometric motives.1 They played a distinctive role in the material culture of the northern Pontic region. Most of them were brought into the northern Pontic steppes and neighboring regions during the last centuries of the pre-Christian era.

Research history A cultural ascription was first attempted at the beginning of the 20th century. The first study was published by A.A. Spicyn in 1909. He noted, that “these phalerae belong to some culture of the turn of the era, which still is scarcely known in our antiquities”.2 Thanks to M.I. Rostovcev, phalerae took on a special significance in the study of the Sarmatians and the Sarmatian Culture of the northern Pontic region. Rostovcev saw in the phalerae definite cultural influences from the East and suggested, that they were brought into the northern Pontic steppes by new, migrating tribes of Iranian origin who came from the northern frontiers of Bactria and who were known in ancient sources as the Sakoi.3 As proof of his theory Rostovcev pointed to the non-Greek character of the representations on the phalerae, the polychrome technique applied to them (partially gilded silver), and the representations of a floral rosette, which he thought to be a purely Persian motive.4 As an analogy – even as “the only close analogy” – to the Pontic phalerae he pointed to horse trappings of the Sasanian period. He believed that “these Persian ornaments were taken by the Sasanians from the Parthians, and by those from the Achaemenid Persians”. Rostovcev suggested that a deity depicted on the phalera from Jančokrak had its closest parallels in the GraecoIndian Art of Taxila and Hatra and also compared the floral rosettes of the Pontic phalerae with this type. The ideas of Rostovcev and his successors were developed by K.V. Trever in

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her book Monuments of Graeco-Bactrian Art.5 In this volume, items which were held by the Department of Eastern Antiquities of the State Hermitage Museum were published. Surprisingly in many cases no attempt was made at finding analogies in the places, where some of the phalerae had been found. Thus, images of animals represented on the phalera found near the city of Starobel’sk in the southern Ukraine were declared to be incarnations of some deities of the Indo-Iranian pantheon.6 Phalerae from Galiče, Jančokrak and Taganrog and many other toreutic objects from the northern Black Sea region were also defined as products of Graeco-Bactria.7 As a result, this category of objects was named “phalerae of the Graeco-Bactrian Style”8 in Soviet archaeological literature, and in academic circles their Graeco-Bactrian origin was not doubted. N. Fettich offered another view in the ongoing discussion of the phalerae.9 He carried out a very detailed study of new finds of phalerae from the territories of Hungary, Romania, and Bulgaria, personally investigating some of the phalerae kept in the Soviet museums – at least those which were available at the time.10 In this analysis he also included other silver objects from Dacian hoards. In his discussion of the material N. Fettich pointed out some central decorative features: graphic elements such as lines of dots, rows of triangles, a zig-zag pattern, wave meanders, and ovules.11 He did not connect all known phalerae with this particular group, but took only those from the assemblages of Jančokrak, Taganrog, Balakleja, Galiče, Surcea and Heraštreu. As a result of this analysis, he concluded that all of these objects were produced in Olbia in the second half of the 1st century BC.12 He believed that this production was somehow connected with the particular military events of the time (the Burebista Wars).13 In his work N. Fettich based his assumptions on Rostovcef’s belief that the phalerae were used primarily as ornaments on horse harnesses and belonged to the Sarmatians. Brooches made in the same style, which were found in the Dacian assemblages, he explained, in some cases, as a secondary use of the phalerae of horse harnesses.14 He also believed that Olbia was a production centre in which craftsmen made certain items for the Sarmatians (phalerae), and other items for the Dacians (brooches, bracelets, torques, and chains).15 J. Harmatta saw the phalerae of the northern Black Sea region as an ethnic feature of the Western Sarmatians, and suggested that the finds of such phalerae in the funerary assemblages in the western territories could be regarded as a sign of a Sarmatian military presence. The workshops J. Harmatta placed in Pantikapaion because Olbia found itself in a difficult political and economic situation in the 1st century BC, and – according to his point of view – could not have produced such objects.16 Harmatta’s idea was supported by T. Sulimirski, who supposed that the phalerae found in the northern Black Sea region were made by Bosporan jewelers.17 He connected the beginning of their production in this territory, to some extent, with the arrival in the Crimea of the troops of the Pontic army

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of Diophantos at the end of the 2nd century BC, and with the Mithradatic Wars of the first half of the 1st century BC. The conclusions of Hungarian and Polish researchers referred to above concerning the local provenance of the phalerae of horse harnesses found in the northern Pontic region have not influenced Soviet archaeologists. K.F. Smirnov (1984) considered the assemblages with phalerae as signs of a Sarmatian migration from East to West. He supposed that the easternmost assemblages should be dated earlier than the westernmost ones.18 Despite the work of Fettich, which he mentions in his book, Smirnov still classifies all phalerae as items of “Graeco-Bactrian style”. At the same time, in some passages of his book Smirnov suggests a Bosporan provenance for them as well.19 Studying the genesis of the Sarmatians in the Prochorovka culture of the Volga-Ural region, K.F. Smirnov was surprised by the absence of features of this culture in the assemblages with phalerae of the northern Black Sea region. In discussing one of the finds he states: “it has no features of the Prochorovka culture at all”.20 This remark could very well be applied to many other sets of phalerae mentioned in his book.21 M.B. Ščukin also connected the constituting elements of Bactrian and IndoScythian Art in the silver phalerae from horse harnesses in the northern Pontic region with a new wave of nomadic migrations from the East.22 He did not, however, mention any resemblance of this group of objects to the Volga-Ural culture apart from one unclear note in which he states that “they have parallels among finds from Western Siberia and the Volga region”. Unlike Fettich and Harmatta, Ščukin constantly underlined the stylistic unity of the silver phalerae found over a huge territory from India and Mongolia to the Island of Sark in the English Channel.23 He explained this unity by suggesting the existence of a group of craftsmen, who moved through the great steppe and made their masterpieces for varying local populations. The phalerae were also the topic of my dissertation delivered in 1996 and published in 2001.24 In this study several stylistic groups of phalerae were singled out. The distribution of different sets of horse harnesses, on the one hand, and their diverse uses in rituals (depositions in graves and votive depots), on the other, have shown that in Eastern Europe there were two main regions with quite different ritual practices.

Two groups of phalerae Phalerae of Graeco-Bactrian Style were found east of the Volga River. All of them belong to Type 1 of the saddle phalerae with three loops on the back (Fig. 1.1). The saddle phalerae of Type 1, which belong to my Pontic Graphical Style, form the westernmost group of horse harnesses. Phalerae of the Pontic Graphical Style were mostly found west of the Volga River, in the northern Black Sea steppes and in the Kuban’ region. Most of them belong to the Type 2 of the saddle phalerae with two crossed loops on the back (Fig. 2.1).

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-

 

 

-

 

Fig. 1. Phalerae with three loops on the back, 3rd 1st century BC. 1 – Distribution map of: A – Phalerae of the “Graeco Bactrian Style”, B – Phalerae of other stylis‑ tic groups; 2 – Phalera from Novouzensk; 3 – Phalera from the Fedulov Hoard; 4 – Phalerae from grave in Krivaja Luka.

Phalerae of Horse Harnesses in Votive Depositions

 

-

 

 

 

 

Fig. 2. Phalerae with two crossed loops on the back, 3rd 1st century BC. 1 – Distribution map; 2 – Phalera from the Starobelsk Hoard; 3 – Phalera from the Korenovsk Hoard; 4 – Phalera from the Jančokrak Hoard.

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Fig. 3. Types of ritual actions with phalerae. A – Deposition of phalerae in graves; B – Deposition of phalerae in hoards.

The differences between these groups of phalerae are not confined only to typological and stylistic features. They are also evident in the rites accompanying their deposition.25 Thus, phalerae of Type 1 are found mainly in burials (Fig. 3.A), whereas hemispherical phalerae of Type 2 are not found in graves, but in votive depots (Fig. 3.B). This fact allows us to suggest a cultural difference between the tribes, which practiced such deposition rituals. Phalerae were not ordinary objects, part of the material culture of ancient tribes, but marked the social status of their owners. Therefore, different ritual actions connected with these important objects demonstrate the differing mentalities and worldviews of the tribes who inhabited, on the one hand, the northern Pontic region, and, on the other, the Volga region. In the Kuban’ basin both practices (burials containing phalerae and votive deposits) are known. Votive deposits of the northern Pontic region are not confined only to those, which contained phalerae. More commonly, the assemblages consisted of the following objects: horse ornaments of other kinds, horse bits and psa‑ lia,26 helmets,27 weapons, armor, silver cups etc. These objects are often found in damaged condition in burial mounds, in natural hills, and in river-beds. Such assemblages are unknown in the Prochorovka culture of the Volga and Ural region, which is believed to be the motherland of the Sarmatians. They were, however, customary among the La Téne cultures of Middle Europe28 and are very much in keeping with the cultural mentality of this region.29 Thus the concept of the conquest of Scythia by the tribes (Sarmatians), who came from the Volga-Ural steppes, does not seem to be particularly well sup-

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ported by the archaeological evidence. Yet to analyze the situation properly we must first define the terms “Sarmatians” and “Sarmatian culture”.

“Sarmatians”, “Sarmatian culture”, and the “Sarmatian Paradigm” The main sources for information about the Sarmatians and their customs are the works of Greek and Roman authors writing between the 1st century BC and the 4th century AD: Strabon, Mela, Ptolemaios, and Ammianus Marcellinus. In earlier texts the land “Sarmatia” and the Sarmatians are scarcely mentioned.30 A hypothetical relationship between the names “Sauromatians” and “Sarmatians” does not in fact mean that we can assume a true succession of or even connection between cultures. There are no grounds for applying the information about Sauromatian customs and legends described by Herodotos to the tribes with similar sounding names located in the same region in later periods. It is also important to keep in mind that any text dated to the period between the 4th and the 2nd centuries BC mentioning the Sarmatians is not necessarily devoted especially to their customs or to historical events in which they participated. In general, the early information is very fragmented and unclear. These fragments, however, were used as the basis for constructing a model of the Sarmatian culture which could be called the “Sarmatian Paradigm”. The foundation-stone of the “Sarmatian Paradigm” was the following report of Diodoros (Diod. Sic. 2.43.6‑7): It was by these kings that many of the conquered peoples were removed to other homes, and two of these became very great colonies: the one was composed of Assyrians and was removed to the land between Paphlagonia and Pontos, and the other was drawn from Media and planted along the Tanais, its people receiving the name Sauromatae. Many years later this people became powerful and ravaged a large part of Scythia, and destroying utterly all who they subdued they turned most of the land into a desert (transl. C.H. Oldfather) This piece of information has been taken as the main proof of the mass invasion of the Sarmatians (who are usually equated in the academic literature with the Sauromatians) from the East. The Sauromatians were a tribe, which was repeatedly placed to the east of the Scythians by ancient authors. Yet, in the record of Diodoros there is nothing that points to the fact that the Sauromatians themselves, at the time of their invasion of Scythia, came from somewhere in the East. From the text of Diodoros it can be understood that they invaded Scythia from their own lands along the Tanais and Maiotis. This territory was described in the ancient sources as the age-old land of the Sauromatians. A part of this land was also

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inhabited by people with a similar name – the Syrmatae.31 The Sarmatia of Herakleides has been located in the same place as well.32 Thus, in the ancient sources the following ethnonyms are always ascribed to the same territory: Sauromatae, Syrmatae, and Sarmatae. It is not possible, however, to exclude the possibility that these ethnic designations were merely variations of one and the same name. Since we only know of these names through the Greeks, and not from the original peoples themselves, we cannot be sure that the different names really refer to different peoples. Unfortunately, our early sources are too seldom and too fragmentary to use as decisive evidence. In later writings, however, ancient authors do not see any difference between the Sauromatians and the Sarmatians. How could it happen that the record of Diodoros was interpreted as information on a mass migration of nomads to the northern Pontic steppes from the East? Perhaps it is due to the two well-known world migrations, which thoroughly influenced European culture: the Great Migration of the 4th century AD and the Mongolian Migration of the 12th to the 14th centuries. Already in the early Medieval period, Europe was constantly under threat of nomadic invasion from the East. Later this fear was transferred into fear of the Ottoman Empire, which until the end of the 19th century played an important role in European politics. Thus, the idea of regular “waves” of eastern people, spreading over the Eurasian steppe in a westward direction, was quite logical and suitable to the European mentality of the 19th century. The general interpretation of new ethnic designations on the map of former Scythia as a sign of newcomers from some distant eastern territory in the northern Pontic region could be regarded as a consequence of this paradigm. In principle, this possibility cannot be excluded. However, this origin of cultural contact or invasion cannot be suggested in all instances. Polybios (1st century BC) informs us of a treaty from 179 BC, signed by the Sarmatian King Gatales amongst other contemporary rulers.33 From the text of Polybios it is not possible to reach any conclusion as to the exact territory of this king. It was, however, located in the Kuban’ region and the origins of this kingdom was connected with the Sarmatian movement from the East.34 I.I. Marčenko rejects the location of Gatales’ kingdom in Europe, based on the text of Polybios, because “there are no Sarmatian monuments of this time west of the Tanais River”.35 On the contrary, Marčenko supposes that Polybios meant the Kuban’ River instead of the Tanais River. Usually the term “Sarmatian monuments” refers to the archaeological remains of the Prochorovka culture of the Volga and Ural regions. Following this logic one can also suppose that the picture of western Sarmatian tribes drawn by Strabon36 should be used to describe the tribes belonging to the more eastern territories (the Volga and Ural districts, for instance) because there are no traces of the Prochorovka culture between the Dnieper and the Danube in the last centuries BC either. Some important historical conclusions about the early movement of new Ira-

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nian (Sarmatian) tribes from the East were also reached on the basis of a text by Diodoros who wrote about events of the 4th century BC in the Bosporan Kingdom. The mention in the Greek original of the Thracian King Aripharnes37 was already in the first Russian translations converted into the “King of Phateoi38 or Syrakoi”.39 The reason for this was that historians could not imagine Thracians fighting on both sides of the conflict described by Diodoros. The fact that the name Aripharnes has Iranian roots was regarded as a proof of its bearer’s Sarmatian origin. Therefore it was concluded that he was the king of the Syrakoi and not of the Thracians.40 This added one more unreliable argument to the theory about an “early Sarmatian wave” from the East. Thus, ancient written sources give no direct information as to a mass migration from the East to the northern Pontic region in the Hellenistic period. Epigraphic sources of the same period are also silent concerning the danger of Sauromatian (= Sarmatian) invasion from distant eastern areas. It is worth noticing that the ethnic name Sarmatai is more or less absent in epigraphic documents of the Hellenistic period.41 At the same time there are repeated mentions of many other names, such as Scythians, Maiotai, Thracians etc.42 One should not exclude the possibility that the general name “Sarmatians” (used for the barbarians who inhabited the northern Pontic region, and later the more easterly regions) to some extent could be an invention of the Greek literary tradition. Perhaps this was done in order to mark the changes, which took place after the time of Herodotos. The decree in honour of Protogenes43 describes the dangerous situation in Olbia, which was threatened from the West, by the Skiroi and Galatai, usually interpreted as Celts. The Sarmatians are not mentioned in the text. Some researchers suggest that the Saioi and the Saudaratai mentioned in the decree were in fact the Sarmatians44, because they are believed to have been there at the time.45 In the second half of the 2nd century BC Olbia was under the protection of the Scythian king Skilouros, was name was struck on the Olbian coins together with the name of the city.46 An inscription on a marble slab found recently at the heroon of the king Argotes – a predecessor to Skilouros – mentions victories of the Scythian king over the Thracians and Maiotai.47 It is important, that the king is named – not by Greek writers but by indigenous citizens – as “the Governor of Scythia – rich in horse pastures”. The construction of the heroon is dated to no earlier than 130 BC.48 A decree in honour of Diophantos, which describes events in the Crimea at the end of the 2nd century BC, mentions several barbarian tribes – the Scythians, Rheuxinaloi, and Tauroi.49 In the dedication of Posideos from the second half of the 2nd century BC, found at Scythian Neapolis, a group called the Satarchai is mentioned.50 Another Chersonesian decree dated to the end of the 2nd century BC tells of an attack by Scythians and possibly Sarmatians on the city of Kalos Limen. These events took place not far from the territory which is traditionally

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thought to have been inhabited by the Sauromatians (= Sarmatians) – relatively close to Lake Maiotis. Thus, in the epigraphic and written sources there is no record of the arrival of the Sarmatians in the northern Pontic region from the East. Legendary information about an area called “Sarmatia”, which would be situated near the Lake Maiotis, corresponds with the traditional information concerning the territory of the Sauromatians. The great migration from the East into the northern Pontic region in the 3rd-2nd centuries BC is not attested in the archaeological material. There is, however, evidence that the barbarians of the northern Pontic area were in contact with the Western world of the Thracians, Celts and Germans.51 Traces of such connections have also been observed in the epigraphic sources. So, why therefore is it that in all works on the history and archaeology of the Sarmatians a theory that the Sarmatian tribes from the east occupied Scythia in the Hellenistic period prevails?

Rostovcev and the Sarmatians Among other things, archaeological remains were only used at a relatively late date as important evidence in the reconstruction of the historical events, which are believed to be connected with the Sarmatians. The researcher, who for the first time clearly shaped the concept of the Sarmatian invasion of Scythia, which is now so standard a part of our way of thinking, was M.I. Rostovcev. Many elements in his “Sarmatian paradigm” were viewed as an extrapolation of later records concerning the Sarmatians on the earlier periods of their history. Before Rostovcev started to work with the northern Pontic region he was already a prominent scholar of Roman history.52 Written sources of the late Roman period, in which could be found plenty of information concerning various barbarian tribes located on the edges of the Roman Empire, provided him with his historical picture of the Sarmatians. The features of this picture were established prior to the discovery of the material culture of the Sarmatians. The main elements of Rostovcev’s “Sarmatian concept” could be characterized as follows: 1) The Sarmatians were eastern neigbours of the Scythians,53 who invaded Scythia and became rulers of the North Pontic region. Originally this information is based on the record of Diodoros. Rostovcev dated the invasion to the transition from the 4th to the 3rd centuries BC. After this “Scythia” was renamed “Sarmatia”, and the Scythians were pushed towards the west (the Dobrudja region) and the south (the Crimea). 2) The names “Sarmatians” and “Sauromatians”, according to Rostovcev, signify two different groups of people.54 The Sauromatians were a Maiotian tribe. A very characteristic feature of this group was the many matriarchal customs embedded in their culture. In separating the Sauromatians from

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the Sarmatians he supposed that the two names were mixed by later authors, and that the earlier authors used the names properly. Under the common name “Sarmatians” Rostovcev categorized different tribes of Iranian origin, who repeatedly invaded the steppes of Southern Russia from the East. Rostovcev mentions two main waves of migrations – the early (Saki) and the late (Yueh-chi). For Rostovcev the most splendid feature of the Sarmatian culture was a special set of weaponry (katafrakta), which consisted of a long heavy lance, a long sword and a dagger, armour or chain-armour and a helmet (usually of conical shape). All this – according to Rostovcev – was different from the weaponry of the Scythians. This image of the Sarmatian cataphractarii, described in the works of Ammianus Marcellinus (4th century AD), Rostovcev applied also to the earlier Sarmatians. He repeatedly underlined the close similarity of the Sarmatians to the Parthians, an impression he also obtained from the ancient sources. This connection was based on the special features of Sarmatian art, which they brought with them into Southern Russia (the polychrome technique and the Animal Style55), in their religion (the worship of fire56), in their patriarchal way of life, and in the military organization of their society. For parallels to this image of the Sarmatians Rostovcev looked to monuments of a material culture which: a) were situated east of Scythia, b) dated from the end of the 4th to the beginning of the 3rd century BC, and c) exhibited the above-mentioned features, which could point to their Iranian origin. Such material monuments included the Prochorovka kurgans (Rostovcev’s Orenburg group). Their discovery coincided with Rostovcev’s visit to his parents in Orenburg in 1915.57 In kurgan 1 were found iron armour, a long sword, polychrome jewellery, items decorated in the Animal Style, and Achaemenid bowls – i.e. direct Iranian imports, which gave Rostovcev support for his belief that these monuments belonged to Sarmatians – the new Iranian people from the East. By these Sarmatians, however, he did not mean the entire local population. Rostowtzeff imagined the Sarmatians – as well as the Scythians – as a group of tribes of Iranian origin, who were a minority within the population yet at the same time ruled the majority of the local people. They were mounted warriors, who came to rule the steppes of Southern Russia. In his opinion the whole steppe eastwards of the Don was in the hands of these newcomers already by the 4th century BC.58 Rostovcev suggested that the kurgans near the Elizavetovskaja stanica on the Don River were very close in their material culture to the material culture of the Orenburg group.59 He located a third group of similar assemblages in the Kuban’ region and on the Taman’ Peninsula (the Stavropol’ Treasure, the Buerova Mogila, and the kurgans near the stanica of Besleneevskaja and Kurdžipskaja).60 Thus, based on a group of approximately 10 assemblages he developed a

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theory concerning the main direction of the movements of Sarmatian tribes from the East towards the West: the Orenburg group (in the East, the Sarmatians themselves) – the Elisavetovskaja group (possibly Syrmatai/Sarmatai) – and the Kuban’ group. To demonstrate this movement of people from the East to the West, the phalerae from horse harnesses and a group of polychrome brooches found in the Kuban’ region were drawn into the discussion. An eastern provenance was suggested for both these groups. As it had already been established, however, most of the phalerae were manufactured in the northern Pontic region. Hence, the local provenance of polychrome brooches is well argued by M. Treister.61 Before 1917 Rostovcev had defined his concept of the Sarmatian culture, which was later changed only in the details. He created a clear historical image of this culture, pointed out its main historical stages and connected the historical name “Sarmatians” with particular monuments within its material culture. This concept, however, has its weak side mostly due to the lack of archaeological material for a proper analysis. In fact, the culture of the early Sarmatians was defined on the basis of one kurgan (Prochorovka 1), which was actually not fully excavated. Many of his historical arguments were based on the projection of information from later written sources onto earlier periods. Details of his historical and archaeological pictures are often contradictory. The task of collecting and interpreting the archaeological material from the Sarmatian culture was undertaken by a group of archaeologists from the University of Saratov, who began investigations in the Volga-Ural region in the 1920s. Their ideas and methods must be viewed in the context of the changes which took place in Russia after the October revolution of 1917. In the first decade of the new Soviet rule, scientific investigations were not yet under such strict political control as was later the case (from the end of the 1920s onwards). Nonetheless, the pressure from Soviet officials already existed. In this period, N.Ja. Marr’s “theory of stages” was widespread. It had its roots in the conception of stages of social development presented first by F. Morgan, and later reused by F. Engels which soon acheived the status of official dogma. Specific ethnic studies were not welcomed. Terms such as the “Scythian stage” followed by the “Sarmatian stage” now entered the scientific language. In this selfsame period these terms were used to cover a vast territory of the Eurasian steppe from the Danube to the boundaries of China. Also at this time the chronological phases of the “Sarmatian stage” were defined on the basis of new excavations in the Volga-Ural region. The authority of Rostovcev’s theory concerning the Sarmatian character of the Orenburg kurgans was quite strong and became an axiom in future studies. The first proper excavations of the “Sarmatian” monuments were undertaken by Professor P. Rykov of the Saratov University.62 He proposed a classification of burials in the Volga region, but this did not become a model for future investigations. He defined the culture of the Susly burial ground as Sarmatian and compared it with similar burials from the Kuban region.63

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P. Rau and his followers The first chronological division of the Sarmatian culture, which is still in use, was put forward by P. Rau. Rau was a local German inhabitant of the newly organized Republic of Germans of the Volga region – and was eager to collect all the sources concerned with the ancient history of this region and preserve them for future generations. He attempted to demonstrate the development of the region in the context of the neighbouring territories of Southern Russia and Siberia. In this way the Volga-Ural region became for him a centre, a sort of standard measure for the comparison of other regions. In his early works Rau made an analysis of the archaeological material that was thorough and based on the latest methods (for example, he made use of tables of correlation)64. In his last book on Scythian arrow-heads he proposed, in brief, a historical concept of the Sarmatian culture. The principles of the “Rau concept”, which became a part of the modern “Sarmatian Paradigm”, are the following: 1) The Volga and Ural steppes were the motherland of the Sarmatians, whose culture spread from this territory westwards (to the northern Pontic region) and south-eastwards (towards Middle Asia and Siberia).65 2) The Sauromatian (6th-4th century BC) and the Sarmatian (3rd century BC-3rd century AD) cultures are connected by their origin. On the basis of burial customs, Rau established four stages within the common Sauromato-Sarmatian culture. Thus, he constructed a relative chronology. Rau considered the orientation and the grave type to be central cultural features.66 He connected the Sauromatian stage with the culture of “Ostwestgräber”, and the Sarmatian with the culture of “Meridionalgräber”.67 In 1929 Rau committed suicide. In the short period between 1929 and 1933 something not unlike a revolution in the spheres of culture, science, and museums happened in the Soviet Union. Censorship of scientific works and a “purification” among the scientific staff was introduced, and nearly all research fellows lost their jobs and many of them their lives as well.68 NonMarxist science was not allowed. Into this new scientific world came the next generation – enthusiastic and patriotic, and ready to work hard for the young state. It was a time of records in every field – economy, art, and science, the achievement of which became an unwritten rule of everyday life. In the haste to ensure quick results, science lost its thorough analysis and well-based conclusions; scientific theories became dogmas. Research fellows followed special orders from the Communist Party to exclude “routine analysis of sources” from their work – they were to produce a purely historical conclusion. Apart from this, the Central Committee also influenced the main directions of scientific work. Thus, in 1937 a new task was established for archaeologists – to study the questions of ethnogenese. Directives on how to do this

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were also given: “It is necessary to make… maps placing the different tribes on the territory of our motherland in different periods of their existence. It is necessary to show, how… the tribes formed the confederations, how they became bigger and, on the borderline of the history of classes, fighting each other and the external enemy, how they became the people – well-known in history”.69 The impact of this directive was so strong that its influence is still felt today. For quite a long time – in fact until Stalin’s death in 1953 – it was forbidden to mention the works of disgraced scientists. Many archaeological investigations were undeservedly forgotten. However, the chronological division of the Sarmatian culture by P. Rau became generally accepted within Soviet archaeological literature. Rau’s theory is also connected with the name of the well-known classical archaeologist and Scythologist B. Grakov. This is mainly due to a special article devoted to the matriarchal remains of the Sarmatian culture, in which he repeated the main statements of Rau and then built his own concept upon them. The aim of this article was to refuse Rostovcev’s belief in the absence of kinship between the tribes of the Sauromatians and the Sarmatians (Rostovcev believed the first were matriarchal and the second patriarchal). In his article, Grakov clearly formulated the idea of four stages of Sauromato-Sarmatian culture giving the following names to these stages: Sauromatian (Blumenfeld culture), early Sarmatian (Prochorovka culture), Middle Sarmatian (Susly culture), and late Sarmatian (Šipovo culture). At a later date, most of these stages lost that part of their names related to specific localities. It was K.F. Smirnov, who developed and expanded the main ideas of P. Rau. Under his direction wide-scale excavations in the South Ural and Volga districts were made. In the 1960s the number of archaeological monuments belonging to the Sarmatian culture were counted in the hundreds. In the works of Smirnov the Volga-Ural region is seen as a centre of origin for the Sauromato-Sarmatian culture in general.70 This culture – as in Rau’s works – is shown as a definite benchmark against which the barbarian cultures from neighbouring territories could be compared. Smirnov also underlines the connection of the Sarmatian culture with cultures of the late Bronze Age in order to demonstrate the autochthonous origin of the Sarmatian population in the Volga-Ural region. Thus, according to his point of view, the Sarmatian tribes slowly moved towards the west from their motherland located in the Volga-Ural steppes from the 3rd century BC onwards. As we have seen earlier, the sets of phalerae, found in votive depositions were used to demonstrate this slow movement. The lack of the archaeological monuments in the northern Pontic region which were similar to those of the Volga region was explained by the poor level of investigation in this area. Another very important factor in the creation of the “Sarmatian paradigm” was the geographical localization of the tribes known from written sources (Aorsi, Siraki, Alanae) on archaeological maps. The name “Upper Aorsi”

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was in fact created to give a name and a place to the Aorsi, who lived north of the Aorsi themselves, according to Strabon. These tribes came to be seen as a confederation of tribes. The archaeological map was connected with the chronological development depicting the stages of the Sarmatian culture. Thus, in this chronological division the ethnic aspect became a matter of the utmost importance. This division remained largely unchanged after Smirnov’s work on the “Sarmatian paradigm” although it was developed in some parts. In subsequent works by Sarmatologists the chronological periods of the Sarmatian culture were connected with the domination of specific nomadic groups – the Sauromatae, the Aorsi, and the Alanae. The dating of the appearance of specific tribes began to influence the dating of the archaeological assemblages, intuitively connected with the historical events.

Conclusion In order to reach a conclusion about the development of the “Sarmatian Paradigm”, it is necessary to stress that initially the material culture of the Sarmatians was closely connected with the representation of the Sarmatians, which came from the works of Roman historians. This connection was so strong, that it marginalised other sources – epigraphic and archaeological, which – despite being considered the most objective in ancient historical studies – are still just passive illustrations of historical concepts. The main difficulties with the theory arise with the identification of the Sarmatians in the northern Pontic region. The archaeological picture does not correlate with the picture presented by the historians. The Sarmatian attack, keeping in mind the monuments of the Volga region in the 3rd to the 1st centuries BC, is simply not visible. In my point of view, there is no reason to suggest that the Volga-Ural region was the centre and motherland of the Sarmatians named in the historical sources. The movement of people from the Volga basin to the northern Pontic region in the 2nd century BC is no more than a speculation based on the doubtful interpretation of fragmentary and dubious written sources. A distant eastern influence, which is definitely clear in the material culture in valleys of the Volga, the Lower Don and the Kuban’ regions from the second half of the 2nd century BC, is not seen in the northern Pontic area. Because of this one must ask: Who were the people who deposited votive sets with silver phalerae? This question can not be easily answered. They were not at any rate the Saka, who came from the borderlands of Graeco-Bactria and whom Rostovcev suggested as the first Sarmatians. Nor were they the barbarian tribes of the Lower Volga and Ural region, whom Smirnov suggested as the Sarmatians. It is more suitable to compare these monuments of the northern Pontic region with the western Pontic territories. Their similarities can be seen in the artistic tradition as well as in the rites connected with the votive depositions.

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Notes 1 This article was prepared with the support of the Alexander von Humboldt Foundation. 2 Spicyn 1909, 18‑19. 3 Rostovtzeff 1922, 136‑138; Rostovtzeff 1929, 44‑45, 104. 4 Rostovtzeff 1922, 136; Rostovtzeff 1929, 41‑42. 5 Trever 1940, 34‑38. 6 Trever 1940, 53. 7 Trever 1940, 51, 55, 60‑61. 8 For a critical view of this, see Mordvinceva 1999a. 9 Fettich 1953, 127‑178. 10 Items from the remarkable Taganrog Hoard disappeared after the Revolution of 1917. The Balakleja Hoard met a similar fate at a later date. 11 Fettich 1953, 139‑144. 12 Fettich 1953, 171. 13 Around 55 BC Olbia was defeated by the Getai. In the second half of the 1st century BC the city faced a political and economic crisis (Vinogradov & Kryžickij 1995, 18). 14 Fettich 1953,136. 15 Fettich 1953, 171, 177. 16 Harmatta 1970, 99‑100 with reference to p. 37. 17 Sulimirski 1970, 141. 18 Smirnov 1984, 80, 110, 113. 19 Smirnov 1984, 112. 20 Smirnov 1984, 80. 21 In the volume devoted especially to the Prochorovka Culture there are no such objects (see Moškova 1962). 22 Ščukin 1994, 145. 23 Ščukin 1994, 146. 24 Mordvinceva 2001. 25 Mordvintseva 1999b, fig. 8, 1. 26 Zajcev 2005, 88‑94. 27 Raev, Simonenko & Treister 1995; Zajcev 2005, 117‑135; Zajcev 2006, 81‑82. 28 Kurz 1995, 100ff. 29 Wells 2001, 70‑73. 30 Stolba 1993, 56. 31 The Sauromatians are located by Herodotos to the east of Tanais (Hdt. 4.21, 4.116). Ps.-Hippokrates informs us that the Sauromatians lived “around the lake of Maiotis” (Ps.-Hipp. De aër. 25). Ps.-Skylax (second half of the 4th century BC) mentions the names of the Syrmatae and Sauromatae, who lived beyond the Scythians. Syrmatae are named as the last tribe living in Europe  – before the Tanais. Sauromatae are located as the first people in Asia (across the Tanais) (Ps.-Scyl. 68, 70). In the work of Eudox (middle of the 3rd century BC), which we know through Stephanus Byzantius, the Syrmatae are also mentioned near the Tanais (Latyšev 1947, 187). 32 Antig. Hist. Mirab. CLII, 97. The story of Herakleides (4th century BC) retold by Antigon of Karystos (3rd century BC) about a “stinky lake” one can see as the earliest information about Sarmatia. This lake is usually compared with the Sea of Azov (Maiotis), which was traditionally connected with the name of the Sauromatians in the ancient literature.

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33 Polyb. Hist., 25. 2,12‑13. 34 Marčenko 1994, 52‑67. 35 Marčenko 1994, 53. 36 Strab. 7.3.17. 37 Ἀριφάρνης ὁ τῶν Θρακῶν βασιλεύς (Diod. 20.22). 38 Latyšev 1909, 388; Minns 1913, 373. 39 RE 1997, 759. 40 Desjatčikov 1977, 46. 41 The Sarmatians could be mentioned in one Chersonesean Decree (IOSPE I2, 353). After having personally investigated the slab with the inscription V. Stolba suggests that the most likely reconstruction of the damaged line in the text (“Sa…”) – should be “Sarmatians”. The Sarmatians could also have been mentioned in the Chersonesean decrees Iospe I2, 343 (Vinogradov 1997) and Iospe I2, 353 (Stolba 1990, 57-59, fig. 4). 42 The most well-known inscriptions of the Hellenistic period are the decree in honour of Protogenes (IOSPE I2, 32), the Chersonesean decree in honour of Diophantos (IOSPE I2, 352), and a new inscription from Scythian Neapolis (Vinogradov & Zajcev 2003, 46, fig. 2; Zajcev 2004, 111‑112, fig. 56‑57). 43 IOSPE I2, 32; around 220s-210s BC (Vinogradov 1989, 182). 44 Harmatta 1970, 11‑12; Smirnov 1984, 67; Simonenko & Lobaj 1991, 76‑79; Ščukin 1994, 97. 45 Harmatta 1970, 19. 46 Frolova 1964, 44. 47 Vinogradov & Zajcev 2003, 47. 48 Vinogradov & Zajcev 2003, 51. 49 IOSPE I2, 352. 50 Zajcev 2004, 114, fig. 60.4. 51 Mordvinceva & Perevodčikova 2000, 51‑64; Zajcev 2005, 88‑89; 2006, 81‑82. 52 Zuev 1991, 167. 53 Rostovtzeff 1922, 121. 54 “Let us remember… that the Sauromatians, who were Maeotians, are not to be confounded with the Sarmatians, who do not appear on the Don until the fourth century, and who were an Iranian people, patriarchal and not matriarchal” (Rostovtzeff 1922, 33). 55 Rostovtzeff 1922, 124. 56 Rostovtzeff 1922, 121. 57 Zuev 1997, 71. 58 Rostovtzeff 1929, 21. 59 Rostovtzeff 1922, 125. 60 Rostovtzeff 1922, 125, 128‑129. 61 Treister 2002, 43‑44. 62 Rykov 1925. 63 Rykov 1925, 24. 64 Rau 1929, 60‑63. 65 Rau 1929, 49. 66 Rau 1929, 68. 67 Rau 1929, 54‑55. 68 Tallgren 1936, 149; Tunkina 1997, 109. 69 Gorodcov, Efimenko & Ravdonikas 1937, 5. 70 Smirnov 1964.

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Bibliography Desjatčikov, Ju.M. 1977. Arifarn – car’ sirakov, in: M.M. Kobylina (ed.), Istorija i kul’tura antičnogo mira. Moskva, 45-48. Fettich, N. 1953. Archäologische Beiträge zur Geschichte der sarmatischdakischen Beziehungen, ActaArchHung 3, 127‑178. Frolova, N.A. 1964. Monety skifskogo carja Skilura, SovA 1, 44‑54. Gorodcov, V.A., Efimenko, P.P. & V.I. Ravdonikas, Naši zadači v oblasti archeologičeskich issledovanij, v svjazi s rešenijami Central’nogo Komiteta VKP (b) i Sovnarkoma Sojuza SSR ob učebnikach po istorii, SovA 2, 1‑15. Harmatta, J. 1970. Studies in the History and Language of the Sarmatians (Acta antiqua et archaeologica, 13). Szeged. Kurz, G. 1995. Keltische Hort- und Gewässerfunde in Mitterleuropa. Deponierung der Latènzeit (Materialhefte zur Archäologie in Baden-Württemberg, 33). Stuttgart. Latyšev, V.V. 1909. Pontika. St Peterburg. Latyšev, V.V. 1947. Izvestija drevnich pisatelej o Skifii i Kavkaze, VDI 3, 235‑315. Marčenko, I.I. 1994. Sarmatskij car’ Gatal, in: N.I. Kirej (ed.), Archeologičeskie i etnografičeskie issledovanija Severnogo Kavkaza. Krasnodar, 52‑67. Minns, E. 1913. Scythians and Greeks. Cambridge. Mordvinceva, V.I. 1999a. Tak nazyvaemyj “greko-baktrijskij stil’” v ellinističeskoj torevtike, in: O. Inšakov (ed.), Archeologija Volgo-Ural’skogo regiona v epochu rannego železnogo veka i srednevekov’ja. Volgograd, 102‑123. Mordvintseva, V. 1999b. А Typology of the Sarmatian phalerae III Century BC – II Century AD, ActaArch 70, 137‑147. Mordvinceva, V. 2001. Sarmatische Phaleren (Archäologie in Eurasien, 11). Rahden, Westf. Mordvinceva, V.I. & E.V. Perevodčikova 2000. O formirovanii “pričernomorskogo grafičeskogo stilja” na falarach II-I vv. do n.e., in: B.A. Raev (ed.), Antičnaja civilizacija i varvarskij mir. Krasnodar, 51‑64. Moškova, M.G. 1962. Pamjatniki prochorovskoj kul’tury (SAI, D1‑10). Moskva. Raev, B.A., A.V. Simonenko & M.Ju. Treister 1995. Etrusco-Italic and Celtic Helmets in Eastern Europe, JbRGZM 38, 465‑496. Rau, P. 1929. Die Gräber der frühen Eisenzeit im unteren Wolgagebiet. Studien zur Chronologie der skythischen Pfeilspitze (Mitteilungen des Zentralmuseus der ASRR der Wolgadeutschen, 4.1). Pokrowsk. Rostovtzeff, M. 1922. Iranians and Greeks in South Russia. Oxford. Rostovtzeff, M. 1929. The Animal Style in South Russia and China. Princeton. Rykov, P.S. 1925. Suslovskij kurgannyj mogil’nik. Saratov. Ščukin, M.B. 1994. Na rubeže er. St Peterburg. Simonenko, A.V. & B.I. Lobaj 1991. Sarmaty Severo-Zapadnogo Pričernomor’ja v I v. n.e. Kiev. Smirnov, K.F. 1964. Savromaty. Moskva. Smirnov, K.F. 1984. Sarmaty i utverždenie ich političeskogo gospodstva v Skifii. Moskva. Spicyn, A.A. 1909. Falary južnoj Rossii, IAK 29, St Peterburg, 18‑53.

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Stolba, V.F. 1993. Demografičeskaja situacija v Krymu v 5‑2 vv. do n.e. (po dannym pis’mennych istočnikov), Peterburgskij archeologičeskij vestnik 6, St Peterburg, 56‑61. Stolba, V.F. 1990. Chersones i skify v V-II vv. do n.e.: Problemy vzaimootnošenij. Unpublished PhD Thesis. Leningrad (Archives of the Institute for the History of Material Culture, Russian Academy of Sciences, St Petersburg. Collection 33.2, file no. 474). Sulimirski, T. 1970. The Sarmatians. Southampton. Tallgren, A.M. 1936. Archaeological Studies in Soviet Russia, ESA 10, 129‑170. Treister, M. 2002. Late Hellenistic Bosporan Polychrome Style and its Relation to the Jewellery of Roman Syria (Kuban Brooches and Related Forms), Silk Road Art and Archaeology 8, Kamakura, 29‑71. Trever, K.V. 1940. Pamjatniki Greko-Baktrijskogo iskusstva. Moskva-Leningrad. Tunkina, I.V. 1997. M.I. Rostovcev i Rossijskaja Akademija nauk, in: G.M. Bongard-Levin et al. (eds.), Skifskij roman. Moskva, 84‑123. Vinogradov, Ju.G. 1989. Političeskaja istorija Ol’vijskogo polisa. Moskva. Vinogradov, Ju.G. 1997. Khersonesskij dekret o “nesenii” Dionisa IOSPE I,2 343 i vtorženie sarmatov v Skifiyu, VDI 3, 104-124. Vinogradov, Ju.G. & S.D. Kryžickij 1995. Olbia. Eine altgriechische Stadt im nor‑ dwestlichen Schwarzmeerraum. Leiden-New York-Köln. Vinogradov, Ju.G. & Ju.P. Zajcev 2003. Novyj epigrafičeskij pamjatnik iz Neapolja Skifskogo (predvaritel’naja publikacija), ArcheologijaKiiv 1, 44‑53. Wells, P.S. 2001. Beyond Celts, Germans and Scythians. Archaeology and Identity in Iron Age Europe. Bath-Avon. Zajcev, Ju.P. 2004. The Scythian Neapolis (2nd century BC to 3rd century AD). Investigation into the Graeco-Barbarian City on the Northern Black Sea Coast (BAR International Series, 1219). Oxford. Zajcev, Ju.P. 2005. Krestovidnyeudila psalii Severnogo Pričernomor’ja, in: I.I. Marčenko (ed.), Četvertaja Kubanskaja konferencija. Tezisy i doklady. Krasnodar, 88‑94. Zajcev, Ju.P. 2006. Šlemy Montefortino i galatskij nekropol’ v Bogazkee: odin mif otečestvennoj sarmatologii, in: A. Belinskij (ed.), XXIV Krupnovskie čtenija po archeologii Severnogo Kavkaza. Tezisy dokladov. Nal’čik, 81‑82. Zuev, V.Ju. 1991. Tvorčeskij put’ M.I. Rostovceva, VDI 1, 166‑176. Zuev, V.Ju. 1997. M.I. Rostovcev. Gody v Rossii. Biografičeskaja chronika, in: G.M. Bongard-Levin et al. (eds.), Skifskij roman. Moskva, 50‑83. Abbreviations ESA Eurasia Septentrionalis Antiqua. IOSPE Latyshev V., 1885‑1901. Inscriptiones antiquae orae septentrionalis Pontis Euxini Graecae et Latinae. Leningrad. IAK Izvestija Archeologičeskoj komissii. St Peterburg. Pauly’s Realencyclopädie der Classischen Altertumswissenschaft. Neue RE bearbeitung. Unter Mitwirkung zahlreicher Fachgenossen herausgegeben von Georg Wissowa.

Conflict or Coexistence? Remarks on Indigenous Settlement and Greek Colonization in the Foothills and Hinterland of the Sibaritide (Northern Calabria, Italy)* Peter Attema

In any discussion touching on the subject of the meeting of cultures in colonial situations, the inevitable question will arise whether this involved conflict or was harmonious in nature, and whether it was a meeting on equal footing or one characterized by the dominance of one culture over the other. Various theoretical and case studies have been dedicated to this subject, and a substantial bibliography has developed as a result.1

Meeting of cultures East and West: an introduction Does the increasing presence of Greek goods in indigenous tombs, sanctuaries and households point to a peaceful process of acculturation, and the active adoption by indigenous peoples of foreign commodities in order to enrich their own material culture and expression of identity, or does it point to cultural dominance of Greeks over indigenous peoples as the outcome of * This paper draws on the practical and intellectual work of many staff and students that have been or are still involved in the excavations of the Groningen Institute of Archaeology at Timpone Motta and the surveys in the Raganello watershed. With regard to the present paper I specifically want to mention prof. dr. M. Kleibrink, director of the excavations of Timpone Motta. The discussion in the paragraph on the meeting of cultures in the sanctuary at Timpone Motta is based on her publications. With respect to the latter paragraph, thanks are due to Jan Jacobsen who discussed the pottery related to the various building phases in the sanctuary. He also compiled the three accompanying pottery plates. The results of the surveys and topographical work discussed in this paper are the fruit of close cooperation with dr. P.M. van Leusen of the Groningen Institute of Archaeology, my co-director in the Raganello Archaeological Project. Christina Williamson corrected the English text, for which I am particularly grateful. Also I wish to express my thanks to dott.ssa. S. Luppino of the Soprintendenza Archeologica della Calabria for supporting our work in the Sibaritide. Finally I like to thank Pia Guldager Bilde, who introduced me to Black Sea archaeology by inviting me to participate in the meeting of cultures congress at Sandbjerg. This was a highly stimulating meeting that resulted in a now running joint survey project around Lake Džarylgač in western Crimea, a project that addresses exactly this theme.

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subjection and/or outright conflict? Should changes in regional settlement patterns in colonial situations always be interpreted as driven by colonial politics, or can they be seen as part of the process of urbanization, triggered by demographic input and, for example, new ways of cultivating the countryside? And, most importantly in the context of this paper, how are these relationships translated in space? First, we should acknowledge that colonial situations in the Greek colonial world were not uniform; consequently there is no single model that accommodates every situation. Secondly, archaeological evidence can be extremely open to interpretation and the same evidence may sometimes “fit” totally opposed stances, the interpretation depending on the theoretical, methodological and/or ideological background of the researcher, research group or research program­ me.2 Thirdly, past colonial situations were not static and fortunes changed over time. What may have started out as a peaceful coexistence of cultures may over time have turned into a situation of conflict. Moreover, Greek colonization was not a monolithic enterprise and there will have been a variety of simultaneous­ sorts of relationships between Greek settlers and indigenous groups. This happened in the coastal areas of Sicily and South Italy as well as elsewhere in the Mediterranean and in the Black Sea area. Relationships and alliances could be played out on the level of individual settlements. The latter is in any case true of the Greek colonial settlements that, as we know, acted as individual entities interacting with indigenous settlements. However, they could equally be in conflict with each other as shown, for example, by the destruction of the Greek colony Sybaris by its Greek rival Kroton in 510 BC.3 Whether indigenous settlements also acted as individual entities or were united in tribal alliances as a rule is hard to say; the ancient literary sources are explicit on the role of the Greek colonies, but very generic on the role that indigenous settlements played. Recent archaeological discoveries on the Ionian coasts of South Italy and reassessments of existing evidence have reopened the debate on the complex nature of Greek and indigenous relationships in South Italy, a discussion that was vivid in earlier Italian publications on this region.4 This complex nature of Greek and indigenous relationships is likely to have been the norm in the period of Greek colonization, and we may surmise that first contact situations in the Black Sea area were no less intricate than in Magna Graecia, even if the nature of the societies with which the Greeks came into contact in the two areas was quite different. Indeed, the archaeological record indicates that the measure of socio-economic and political complexity of early colonial situations in Magna Graecia was comparable to that of the northern Black Sea area.5 The historical outcome of the meeting of Greeks and indigenous peoples in terms of long term cultural acculturation or assimilation, was, however, quite different in Magna Graecia and the northern Black Sea coastal areas, not least because of the very different natures of the indigenous populations the Greeks came into contact with in both areas, i.e. settled agriculturalists in the coastal plains and foothills of Magna Graecia versus nomadic and semi-nomadic groups in

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the steppe areas bordering the northern Black Sea coast. Whilst proto-historic Greeks and Italic peoples certainly shared some similarities in their socioeconomic and settlement organization, Greek and nomadic steppe peoples must have been worlds apart as to their ways of life. This of course makes the comparison between colonial situations in Magna Graecia and the Black Sea a highly interesting topic for which there is a growing interest and fortunately a growing amount of comparative material generated by various approaches. In the field of landscape archaeology, we may mention the recent comparative work of J. Carter on the ways in which the Greeks organized the agricultural territories around their urban colonial foundations in the chorai of respectively Metapontion and Chersonesos.6 Indeed, one approach of studying colonial situations is to take the long term comparative perspective of “Mediterranean type” landscape archaeology, preferably in combination with the excavation of key urban sites, a tradition that is well established in Italian research, but is relatively new to the northern Black Sea area.7 A look at a South Italian case study may therefore be instructive: The Groningen Institute of Archaeology has over the years carried out two combined field programmes in Italy in which excavation and survey have been complementary. One of these projects studies the meeting of Greek and indigenous cultures in northern Calabria (South Italy), and this project will serve here as a comparative case study for the collection of papers brought together in this volume on the meeting of cultures in the northern Black Sea area.8

Aim and content of paper In this contribution it is my intention to discuss the settlement evolution in the plain, foothills and hinterland of the Sibaritide (province of Calabria, Italy) where Greek settlers according to the historical sources first came into contact with indigenous groups at the end of the 8th century BC. Recent archaeological discoveries have shown that a primary role in this cultural contact was played by the sanctuary on Timpone Motta overlooking the wide plain of Sybaris, where colonists reportedly coming from Achaia founded the famous settlement of Sybaris. The archaeological site of Timpone Motta, near the present-day village of Francavilla Marittima, has been the object of archaeological research since the 1960s by both Italian and Dutch scholars. Excavations were conducted in its cemetery, settlement and sanctuary, while the study of its wider landscape archaeological context is a relatively recent phenomenon. The combination of data from settlement and environment adds to our understanding of the nature of relationships of the indigenous Oinotrian peoples with those of the Greek colony of Sybaris. Sanctuary and settlement contexts have been the subject of annual excavation and study campaigns by a team from the Groningen Institute of Archaeology since 1993,9 with landscape archaeological research, including intensive surveys, starting soon after.10 Part of the methodology of survey in the Sibaritide since 2000

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includes intensive field walking in the surroundings of Timpone Motta in survey units of 50 x 50 m, in order to reveal the long term settlement dynamics of the study area from prehistory to present, but with a special focus on the period of the formation of proto-urban settlement, Greek colonization and Hellenistic settlement.11 Especially the outcome of the landscape archaeological component in GIA’s research strategy may in the future be compared to results that are currently being obtained in a joint survey project in the northwestern Crimea, the Džarylgač Survey Project (DSP), recently launched by a Danish-Dutch-Ukrainian collaborative effort (2006‑2010). This joint landscape archaeological project by the Danish National Research Foundation’s Centre for Black Sea Studies at the University of Aarhus (DK), the Groningen Institute of Archaeology of the University of Groningen (NL), and the Crimean branch of the Institute of Archaeology NASU at Simferopol (Ukraine) employs the same “Mediterranean type” survey methodology as used in South Italy. In this way it will soon be possible to compare the influence of Greek agricultural colonization on the exploitation of indigenous landscapes. Occupation at the site of Timpone Motta, located near the present-day village of Francavilla Marittima, began in the Middle Bronze Age and ended at the end of the Archaic period. During this long period Timpone Motta, first excavated by M.W. Stoop and later by M. Kleibrink, was the scene of a flourishing sanctuary that, having started as an indigenous cult place in the early Iron Age would evolve in the late Iron Age and Archaic period into an Athenaion, boasting several temple buildings with a Greek plan and stone foundations. This continuity in cult activities makes the Timpone Motta a keysite­for the Sibaritide regarding the current theme: the meeting of Greek and indigenous cultures. On the basis of the evidence currently available for the Sibaritide, should we opt for a model of conflict or for one of coexistence, a model of dominance or one of equal footing? This issue is one of the most hotly debated issues in the archaeology of the Sibaritide of the colonial period and more in general in the archaeology of Magna Graecia. However, conclusive answers based on archaeological evidence that would solve this and related issues cannot be expected easily. For example, while the archaeological record of the cult place of Timpone Motta seems to support a coexistence model, the findings at Broglio di Trebisacce, an indigenous site located ca. 20 km to the north of Timpone Motta, would point to the contrary. Broglio di Trebisacce was meticulously excavated by R. Peroni and his team, and at the present state of knowledge it would seem that the site was abandoned or destroyed around the time that the Greeks founded the colony of Sybaris in the plain. This suggests that we allow for a more multi-faceted model in which both conflict and co-operation were part and parcel of the new socio-economic, ethnic, religious and political constellation that gradually took shape in the Sibaritide. In light of the complexity of the debate, the aim of this paper can therefore only be a modest one. Yet by furnishing a landscape archaeological context for an issue that is very much site related, I hope to broaden the per-

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spective of the debate. In combination the excavations and surveys highlight various aspects of the meeting of Greeks and indigenous peoples that in the literature are known as Oinotrians.

Settling in the margins of Oinotrian society Timpone Motta lies near present-day Francavilla Marittima in the foothills of northern Calabria in South Italy (Fig. 1). It is located on a hilltop close to where the Raganello River meets the Sibaritide Plain overlooking both the plain and an important communication route leading inland along the Raganello River valley. A location such as this, on a foothill dominating a major river valley, is typical of the proto-historical settlement pattern in the Sibaritide. It gave access to both the uplands and the plain; a great advantage in an economy in which the practice of short transhumance may have been a fundamental component. The uplands offered excellent summer grazing while the plain provided for the stock during the winter.12 Moreover a site location in the foothills allowed control over people travelling with their cattle and commerce over the main transit routes leading inland from the coast along the river valleys towards the up- and highlands. Other advantages of a site location in the foothills included access to various soil types that are typically present within the catchment of

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Fig. 1. Digital elevation model of the Sibaritide with location of the Timpone Motta, present day Francavilla Marittima, the Raganello river, Sybaris/ Thurioi, Broglio di Trebisacce and Torre del Mordillo (source: GIA, P.M. van Leusen).

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Fig. 2. Late Bronze Age territorial model of the Sibaritide (Peroni & Trucco 1994, fig. 232).

the average foothill location.13 Of these especially the terraced sands and conglomerates are suitable for arable farming, and as R. Peroni pointed out, these areas were also suitable for arboricultures.14 Proof of olive oil production stem from the late Bronze Age as the settlement excavations at Broglio di Trebisacce have shown. Here archaeobotanical evidence was found in the late Bronze Age layers as well as a storage facility that held large dolia to store products from the land. These dolia were manufactured using Aegean technology.15 Interestingly, the intensive surveys of the Raganello Archaeological Project have now revealed quite a number of late Bronze Age/early Iron Age rural sites featuring such vessels giving further proof of a well-developed rural economy in the late Bronze Age along the foothills between Timpone Motta and Broglio di Trebisacce.16 According to Peroni, this part of the Sibaritide had by the late Bronze Age developed into a complex society whose territory had by then been carved into various independent territories such as shown in Fig. 2. Fig. 3 illustrates how in the late Bronze Age the settled rural landscape developed in the catchment of Francavilla Marittima. Quite a number of sites within an otherwise dense pattern of proto-historical presence in the foothills yielded late Bronze Age dolium fragments of the so-called doli cordonati class. These large ceramic containers may have held olive oil or other products from the land testifying to a flourishing agricultural production. Fig. 4 shows a site discovered in the field survey campaign of 2005 consisting of a concentration of such sherds, a grinding stone and several sherds from smaller pots. The dolia have typical handles and decorations as well as a characteristic depurated clay consistency that makes them easy to classify. At the nearby

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Fig. 3. Overview of sites a number of which with doli cordonati in the environs of Timpone della Motta (source: GIA, Nick Hogan).

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Fig. 4. Photograph of concentration of doli cordonati sherds (source: GIA, photo author).

proto-historical settlement of Broglio di Trebisacce, a number of these dolia have been excavated; one of them reportedly could contain up to 1000 litres. Residue analysis of one of the Broglio vessels pointed indeed to a vegetable oil, most likely olive oil.17 I have briefly elaborated on this example of rural development in the foothills of the Sibaritide to underscore Peroni’s view of late Bronze Age society as a well-organized socio-economic and political society. This complexity was accelerated through the interaction with the Mycenean world in the foregoing Recent Bronze Age phase as Peroni made clear in his publications. The intensive survey of the Groningen Institute of Archaeology has revealed new evidence showing that surplus storage was not restricted to centralized settlements, but also appeared in rural contexts. After this short digression into the specifics of the rural landscape of the late Bronze Age in the foothills of the Sibaritide, we may now turn to the overall settlement pattern as reconstructed for the Sibaritide in the Iron Age up to the arrival of the Greek colonists on the shores of the Sibaritide Plain where the Crati River meets the sea. According to the reconstructions by R. Peroni, the foothills of the Sibaritide and the adjacent territory inland and on the plain had by the Iron Age been subdivided into distinct territories each having a major centralized settlement incorporating satellite sites (Fig. 5). Of these central settlements, Torre Mordillo may well have been the most powerful settlement dominating the others as would a city-state of Etruscan stature.18 Whether this comparison is

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Fig. 5. Iron Age ter‑ ritorial model of the Sibaritide (Peroni & Trucco 1994, fig. 235).

plausible or not is not the issue here;19 the very fact that the data now available even allow for such a comparison indicates in itself the level of socio-political complexity that Oinotrian society in the Sibaritide had reached by the time it came into contact with the Greeks from Achaia. These Greeks founded what at the outset can only have been a modest village, but which soon would be transformed into the planned city of Archaic Sybaris. Indeed, looking at the location of the colony of Sybaris and the locations of the principal protohistorical settlements, we cannot but conclude that the Greek colonists, arriving in the Sibaritide in the late 8th century BC, settled in the margins of a well-organized indigenous culture that had its principal settlements in the foothills with each of these controlling well-defined portions of the territory.20 In view of this, how should we imagine the nature and scale of the Greek settlement? Recently D. Yntema and M. Kleibrink have published articles in the Dutch journal Babesch in which they attempted to estimate the nature and scale of the earliest Greek presence at various places in South Italy. Yntema’s discussion of early colonial Basilicata and south Apulia focused on a series of eight coastal settlements in the period between approximately 800‑650/625 BC, three of which (Siris, Metapontion and Taras) would have been inhabited in the 6th century BC by people “who considered themselves to be Greeks” and who founded settlements “which (in the 6th century BC) became towns that were perceived as Greek poleis by Greek and Roman writers from the 6th century onwards”.21 On the strength of the available archaeological evidence, Yntema arrives

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at the conclusion that by about the middle of the 7th century small groups of Greeks were present in various parts of the coastal strip of south-eastern Italy.22 These groups began at indigenous settlements (such as Otranto, Brindisi and L’Incoronato) or founded new settlements that attracted a native population (such as Siris). In addition to settlements with mixed populations there may have been, according to Yntema, settlements exclusively inhabited by migrant Greeks (such as Metaponto-Andrisani), whereas in the case of L’Amastuola near Taranto we may be dealing with a case of a Greek take-over of an indigenous site. Recent excavations by the Free University at l’Amastuola show, however, that indigenous presence is still strong in the archaeological record rather pointing to a mixed Greek-indigenous population.23 From Yntema’s account it appears that Greek presence on the coasts of the Gulf of Taranto and the Ionian seaboard was felt rather later than on the Tyrrhenian coast (Ischia). This opinion is shared by Kleibrink: “it seems to me that the presence of strong native groups in the Metapontino, Siritide, Sibaritide, and Crotonide in the 9th and 8th century BC precluded the speedy development of early Achaian settlement colonization. It was only during the first half of the 7th century BC that the natives in the coastal and subcoastal settlements began to associate themselves with groups of Greek traders. The evidence gained so far at Sibari and Crotone makes it likely that settlement here was not very different from that at Siris/Polieion and Incoronata/Metapontion, i.e. it may have consisted first of clusters of huts with dug out storage facilities and later of clusters of cabins. From the presence of potsherds of Thapsos and sub-Thapsos cups at Crotone, Sibari and Timpone della Motta we may perhaps infer hellenising influences half a century or a quarter century earlier than in the Metapontino and Siritide.”24 As to the scale of early Greek colonization, Yntema’s estimates for the first half of the 7th century BC of the number of Greeks range from a few individuals to one or two dozen individuals in each case, which tallies with Kleibrink’s idea of small agglomerations of hut and, later, cabin clusters. A recent poster presentation by the Soprintendenza per la Basilicata showed an artist’s impression of the situation as it may have been during the early colonial period at the mouth of the Basento at Metapontion (Fig. 6). The image represents exactly what one would expect based on the available archaeological evidence in the Sibaritide.25 The image clearly shows the modest scale of the settlement, while the text describes it as occupied by Greek merchants and craftsmen, together with indigenous people as asserted by the author of this poster, Antonio de Siena. Of all initial incentives that may have spurred on the Greeks in their overseas enterprises, Yntema remarks, that since the 1980s trade has increasingly been identified as the primary reason for the Greeks to go abroad.26 Trade and exchange also provide the context in which Yntema and Kleibrink view the phenomenon of mixed Greek and indigenous material culture in southeast Italy for which, as they note, the archaeological evidence is quickly accumu-

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Fig. 6. Artist’s impression of Greek merchant settlement at the mouth of the Basento (source: image by author taken from poster by A. de Siena, Soprintendenza peri beni Archeologici della Basilicata presented at Matera, 2003).

lating. Kleibrink notes that, except on the Timpone Motta, evidence for Greek presence in the Sibaritide in the first half of the 7th century BC is largely absent, the site of Sybaris itself included. And indeed, to date only a few sherds of the late 8th and early 7th century BC have turned up in trial trenches and wells dug at Sybaris-Parco del Cavallo. These contexts were published in the late 1960s and early 1970s and were evaluated by Kleibrink together with early contexts including Greek material from trenches at Sybaris-Stombi.27 Stombi is a part of Sybaris that was partly spared by the later urban phases of Sybaris’ successor cities Thurioi and Kopiai. The evidence, such as it is, indicates that in the 7th century BC both locations at Sybaris – Parco del Cavallo and Stombi – were characterized by dispersed habitation associated with Greek material culture. This might indicate a scale and nature of settlement similar to those of L’Incoronata and Siris. This is, of course, quite a different perspective from the “classical” one in which Greek domination would have been paramount from the beginning.28 In fact it is nothing less than a paradigmatic change in which the conflict model, archaeologically speaking, does not hold. What then about the “coexistence” model?

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Meeting of cultures in the sanctuary on Timpone Motta Ideas on the impact of Greek colonization on the indigenous Oinotrian civilization have mainly been formulated by Classical archaeologists and until recently relied heavily on the dominant role ascribed to the Greek colony of Sybaris in the historical sources and of course based on the urban reality that was Sybaris in the Archaic period. Consequently, the sanctuary of Timpone Motta was interpreted as a Greek enterprise.29 The Groningen excavations led by M. Kleibrink have changed this perspective profoundly and have demonstrated that the Athenaion began as an indigenous cult place.30 Fig. 7 shows the areas investigated in the course of the Groningen excavations. Part of the excavation was dedicated to the settlement and part to the sanctuary. The settlement was articulated over various plateaus numbered I to IV by the Groningen team. Remains of proto-historical huts and/or Archaic houses were excavated on each plateau. The earliest features date to the middle Bronze Age. Occupation on the top of the hill likewise began in the middle Bronze Age, and starting in at least the 8th century BC, the top came into use as a place of cult.31 Fig. 8 gives an overview of the sanctuary with the plans of buildings I to V. Earlier explorations at the sanctuary had already resulted in the excavation of four Archaic temples with stone foundations, in Fig. 8 numbered I to IV. Based on the postholes visible within the structures, Kleibrink, the excavator, was convinced of an earlier phase characterized by wooden structures. The postholes are easy to recognize as they are generally cut into the hard

 

 

Fig. 7. Overview GIA excavations on the Timpone Motta on Plateaus I – IV and the top where the sanctuary was located (source: GIA, H. Waterbolk, Scavi Kleibrink 1991‑2005).

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Fig. 8. Overview of sanctuary with plans of Buildings I to V on the top (source: GIA, H. Waterbolk, Scavi Kleibrink 1991‑2005).

conglomerate rock. An area south of Temple III was therefore also cleared. Kleibrink’s intuition of yet another building proved right: beneath a thick layer of loose gravel-like soil, the Groningen team found evidence for a ritual building that was labelled V. This building appeared to have a sequence of several phases:32

Va A middle Bronze Age hut structure33



Vb A large wooden house dating to the early Iron Age with a hearth in its western part, a loom in the central space and ending in an apse in its eastern part dating to the 8th century BC.



Vc A wooden temple dating to around 725/700 BC as indicated by Thapsos pottery in combination with East-Greek jugs and indigenous “Oinotrian” matt-painted pottery.



Vd A mud-brick temple built shortly before 650 BC. This building phase was easy to recognize through a specific stratum of yellowish soil that had been used to cover up the wooden temple; also, foundation trenches were cut into the conglomerate rock. The large quantities of proto-Corinthian sherds date this structure to the mid-7th century BC.

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The large wooden early Iron Age house (Vb) measures ca. 26 by 8 metres, and several posts were used in its construction. In the western part an almost round patch that had been in contact with intense fire was visible on the bare conglomerate rock. This patch of natural rock was first interpreted as an open air altar and later as the remains of a hearth within a courtyard enclosure. Around it in crevices in the rock and in the powdery soil on top, all kinds of precious artefacts were found. The hearth-altar had generated an immense accumulation of ashes that was found pushed aside to the brink of the hill and that could be recognized in the stratigraphy as a grayish, loosely textured soil. It contained among other things bones of piglets, but no carbonised plant remains other than wood thus pointing to an exclusively ritual context.34 The artefacts in the crevices around the hearth-altar were for the larger part bronze personal ornaments among which fibulae of the scudo and serpentine type as well as various kinds of spirals, girdles and braid fasteners, pendants representing human figures and so on, all dating from the middle two quarters of the 8th century BC according to traditional dates. In the powdery soil on top, locally made impasto sherds of situlae and fragments of indigenous matt-painted pottery were found. In the central space of the timber building evidence for the existence of a loom was found in the form of a number of loom weights. These were found in two rows of approximately 2.10 to 2.30 metres across on the floor of the building. The weight of the loom weights (between 800 and 1200 grams) suggests that we are dealing with a large loom equipped for producing heavy textiles. The loom weights have a very characteristic labyrinth motive that is typical for Timpone Motta. Also spindle whorls, cooking stoves and cooking pots were found. In combination these artefacts point to a space where women were active with the washing, dyeing, and weaving of wool or flax. Judging from the rich ornaments that were found in the house, the women were finely clad and occupied special positions in society. It is suggested that these women were involved in ceremonial weaving protected by a goddess that was venerated in the 8th century BC on Timpone Motta.35 The building apparently combined prestige for the ruling class with a cult function as has also been suggested for Greek elite buildings. The material culture associated with Building Vb, however, is not exclusively indigenous (Fig.  9); “pre-colonial” contacts can be deduced from a number of Greek pot sherds from the MGII-LG period. Among these are fragments from a Euboean “black cup” and Corinthian proto-kotylai of the Aetos 666 type. Also finds of locally produced wheel-thrown one-handled bowls (scodelle), glazed on the inside and with compass drawn concentric circles on the exterior, together with finds of likewise locally manufactured Greek type skyphoi show that a few possibly “Euboean” Greek potters where working at Francavilla Marittima as early as before the middle of the 8th century BC.36 Around 725/700 BC, the timber building with the loom and the hearth (Vb) was ritually buried, and a new structure was built on top (Building Vc).

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Fig. 9. Pottery vessels and weaving utilities related to building Vb (compiled by J.K. Jacobsen). 1‑3: Oinotrian hand made impasto jar and mugs. 4‑6: Oinotrian hand made matt painted jar, mug and bowl decorated in the “undulating line style”. 7‑10: Wheel thrown Oinotrian Euboean bowl and skyphoi with concentric circles, chevrons and wavy bands. 11‑15: Spindles and loom weights.

Peter Attema

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he dates of this structure are based on hapsos pottery in combination with ast- reek jugs, as well as sporadic finds of early chaean-type kanthariskoi and indigenous “ inotrian” matt-painted pottery. he new structure is part of a monumental lay-out comprising two more similar buildings. leibrink states that the three temples with their front and back porches, and the adoption of reek pottery constitute an interesting mix of reek ideas and indigenous techniques such as the posthole construction technique and the mattpainted technique of pottery decoration.37 he association of finds described by leibrink indicates that both the indigenous and the reeks were involved in cult activities at Building Vc. he dedications are interpreted as gifts to – again – a female goddess. ne of the most significant pieces is a pyxis with a cult scene on which we see a row of women in a procession ( ig. 10).38 he first woman carries a hydria with water that she is about to pour into a drinking cup held by a seated woman, apparently a goddess on a throne. his image shows an aspect of the cult that began to take place in the sanctuary around 700 B , one which would account for the innumerable so-called hydriskoi – miniature water jugs associated with a water cult – that were found in the excavations so far. he larger part of these miniature hydriai and kernoi must, however, be connected to the next building phase of the sanctuary that can be dated to just before 650 B (Vd).

Fig. 10. Pyxis with a cult scene of a row of women in procession (private collection; after Lachenal 2007, fig. 4).  

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Recent pottery studies following on the Scavi Kleibrink 1993‑2005 have shown that the pyxis described above is part of a general development of a slowly increasing Greek orientation in the sanctuary.39 The relative amount of Greek pottery in Building Vc is greater than in the previous Building Vb, and the locally based production of wheel-made Euboean-Cycladic inspired vessels has increased noticeably; the same is true for the range of produced vessel types/shapes (Fig. 11) Especially the latter development shows that the rearrangement of the sanctuary through the construction of Building Vc was accompanied by a beginning change in the dedicational pattern towards Greek ritual customs. This interpretation is especially motivated by the presence of locally made Euboean-Cycladic vessels of a highly ritualised nature such as miniature hydriskoi decorated in a style which has much in common with hydriskoi from the area of the Apollon Daphnephoros sanctuary in Euboean Eretria and open worked kalathiskoi (terracotta imitations of baskets) likewise of a distinctive Eretrian-Euboean matrix. Furthermore, fragments of a series of large craters in Building Vc decorated with Eretrian-type birds together with fragments decorated in the manner of the omnipresent Cesnola-painter show a remarkable detailed correspondence with the contemporary production of “Italo geometric” craters on Ischia and in Etruria. As previously, however, the majority of the ceramics associated with building Vc were still indigenous consisting of matt-painted and impasto pottery. For the successor to Temple Vc, the wooden temple was levelled and trenches were dug in (the higher parts of) the conglomerate bedrock to accommodate mud-brick foundation walls of the new temple Vd. The floor of this temple was made of yellowish clay covering the remains of Vc. In the postholes sealed by the yellow clay, imported scarabs were found and fragments of indigenous matt-painted pottery decorated in what is known as the elegant fringe style.40 The material culture associated with the cult activities in this period is inspired by the Greek colonial wares and indeed primarily consists of hydriskoi as well as assemblages of vases of Greek, predominantly Corinthian, origin (Fig. 12). The mid-7th century BC date is provided by large quantities of imported ProtoCorinthian pottery.41 In a quantitative perspective, the previous dominance of indigenous matt-painted and impasto pottery has now come to an end. It is replaced by the influx of thousands of Greek vessels. The rapid increase in the amount of Greek pottery went hand in hand with a broadening of the shape range. New functional vessels such as aryballoi, alabastra, kernoi, broad- and conical lekythoi reflect various new dedicational rites within the sanctuary. A high degree of Greek sanctuary organisation can be deduced from the material. Groups of sometimes up to 50 almost identical vessels (e.g. pyxis lids) show that Greek pottery arrived in the sanctuary in batches ready for dedication in the same manner as is attested in e.g. the Perachora and Delos sanctuaries. The ritualization of pottery, which was first encountered during the last quarter of the 8th century BC (Building Vc), is now in full effect with the Greek imports. Especially miniature vessels, e.g. kotylai, are frequently

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Fig. 11. Pottery vessels from building Vb and immediately south of it (compiled by J.K. Jacobsen). 1‑5: Oinotrian hand made matt painted vessels decorated in “Fringed Style” or in combined styles relying on indigenous and Greek motifs. 6: Oinotrian Euboean skyphos with wavy band. 7‑8: Corinthian LG and EPC kotylai with meander and wire birds. 9: Corinthian MPC broad bottomed oinochoe with subgeometric decoration. 10: Oinotrian Euboean hydriskos with geometric decoration. 11: Local imitation of a globular pyxis of the Thapsos class with chevron panel. 12: Corinthian MPC tall pyxis with subgeometric decoration. 13: Oinotrian Euboean open worked kalathiskos in bi chrome technique. 14: Corinthian MPC aryballos.

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Fig. 12. Pottery vessels from post hole and floor deposits inside building Vd and from related votive deposits immediately south of the building (compiled by J.K. Jacobsen). 1‑3: Corinthian LPC TR kotylai with polychrome, subgeometric and silhouette decoration. 4: Corinthian LPC skyphos. 5‑9: skyphos, kanthariskos, hydriskai and kernos of local colonial manufacture. 10‑1: Corinthian LPC TR pyxides. 12‑13: local colonial closed and open worked kalathiskoi. 14‑17: Corinthian LPC TR conical lekythoi, alabastra and aryballos.

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Fig. 13. Pinax depicting a seated goddess dat‑ ing from the second half of the 7th century BC (de Lachenal 2007, fig. 4).

dedicated along with purely ritual vessels such as the open worked Corinthian kalathoi. A series of large Corinthian manufactured loutrophoroi found inside and outside Building Vd likewise illustrate a high degree of ritual selectivity and awareness in favour of the Greek material culture. The manufacture of Euboean-Cycladic vessels does not seem to have continued beyond the first quarter of the 7th century BC. Around this time it was succeeded by a far more productive establishment in connection with the sanctuary. Hydriskoi, now of an Ionian rather than Euboean type, together with Corinthian and Achaean inspired drinking cups were the main objects of dedication, but other locally manufactured shapes such as kernoi, jugs, craters/krateriskoi and kalathoi likewise found their way into the sanctuary in noticeable numbers.42 Important finds are the pinakes showing images of the cult statue and dedicants. One image shows a goddess on a throne holding a woollen cloth or peplos on her lap.43 It is dated in the second half of the 7th century BC (Fig. 13). Another pinax, dating from the 6th century BC reveals a second aspect of the cult practiced on the Timpone Motta: dedicants are shown offering a cloth to the goddess, a cult activity that is reminiscent of the earlier weaving cult (Fig. 14).44 At the start of the 6th century BC, Temple Vd was covered with a layer of gravel-like soil up to 2m thick thought to have formed a terrace for a 6th century BC temple that together with the rebuilding of Temples I, II and III formed the monumental complex of the 6th century BC Athenaion, the remains of which are still visible today. More exactly, this phase is dated to the second half of the 6th century BC based on the construction technique of the wall foundations in river cobble stones and associated tiles. This technique is the same as that of the 6th century BC houses on the lower plateaus and that found in the colony of Sybaris at the location known as Stombi.

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Fig. 14. Two terracottas depicting dedi‑ cants offering a cloth to the goddess dating from the 6th century BC (Kleibrink 2006, fig. 31).

All this seems to indicate that clearly the cult activities at the Timpone Motta involved both Oinotrians and Greeks. It shows how early Greek colonization was a complex phenomenon of cultural interaction and, apparently, in the specific ritual context at the Timpone Motta, not one of outright subjection or domination. Therefore the cult place on the Timpone Motta presents us with a rare instance of continuity in the settlement history of the Sibaritide in which indigenous and Greek elements are combined.

Meeting of cultures, the Iron Age and Archaic settlement of Timpone Motta An aspect that now needs to be addressed is the development of the settlement on the various plateaus of the Timpone Motta. Habitation in the Iron Age was characterized by timber long houses such as were excavated on the top of Timpone Motta and by huts of smaller dimensions. An interesting specimen of the latter type was excavated by the GIA team on Plateau I, the reconstructed plan of which we reproduce in Fig. 15.45 This hut, which dates to the second half of the 8th and first quarter of the 7th century BC, was in the course of the 6th century BC overbuilt by an Archaic house after a period of abandonment and destruction by fire. The hut inventory contained storage jars, loom weights and spindle whorls, coarse impasto pottery as well as matt-painted pottery. Among the finds was a beautiful askos decorated in the so-called fringe style. Problematic, however, is the issue of continuity or discontinuity in the settlement. Up until now 7th and early 6th century BC material remains from domestic contexts are poorly represented, at least in clear stratigraphical contexts, and good evidence for domestic occupation is only available for the advanced 6th century BC. In the latter period at Francavilla Marittima houses on stone foundations appear, and the use of Greek

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Peter Attema Fig. 15. Schematic plan of excavated Oenotrian hut (Kleibrink 2006, fig. 25).

pottery in the domestic sphere becomes widespread. Of course, these are clear signs of the profound transformation the local community underwent in the 6th century BC. Several Archaic houses were excavated on the various plateaus at Timpone Motta.46 On the lowest and most spacious Plateau I, for instance, the dense surface distribution of 6th century BC pottery and several remains of walls found in test trenches pointed to a phase of intensive use of this area in the Archaic period.47 The excavation of the foundation walls of an almost complete house plan and the discovery of at least three other house foundations, unfortunately less well preserved, led to the conclusion that Plateau I in the second half of the 6th century BC had been part of a loosely organised rural village. The construction method of the wall foundations in river cobblestones is in all cases similar to that of the houses found in Sybaris, and the pottery is likewise of local Greek colonial production. By contrast with Sybaris, an urban lay-out and paved streets are absent at Timpone Motta underlining the rural character of the settlement.48 This quick overview of the settlement history at Timpone Motta reveals a hiatus in the domestic use of the site in the second half of the 7th and early 6th centuries BC that the team of the Groningen Institute of Archaeology has not yet been able to fill in with housing save for some slight indications.49 This is in sharp contrast with the continuity in the ritual context of the sanctuary and the necropolis. The community living at the settlement of Timpone Motta buried their dead in the nearby cemetery of Macchiabate excavated in the 1960s under P. Zancani Montuoro and recently cleaned for public display.50 Analyses of the Macchiabate burials by Kleibrink and Vink would indicate that the spatial configuration of the necropolis remained stable between the 8th and 7th century BC and was based on kinship ties within a ranked community. Moreover, the chronological analysis of the gift assemblages from

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the graves show that the deposition of sets of indigenous pottery continued in spite of the increasing presence of Greek pottery demonstrating how the indigenous population only gradually adopted Greek material culture in their grave inventories.51 This seems to the Groningen team indicative of continued indigenous use of the cemetery in the 7th century BC and therefore of the settlement in spite of the fact that 7th century settlement on the plateaus of Timpone Motta has not yet been attested. The archaeological observations from the sanctuary on the one hand and from the settlement and cemetery on the other underscore the complex reality of interaction between Greeks and Oinotrians and show that even at one site the evidence in different domains (of the living, the dead and the gods) may not be in line with each other. In fact this tallies well with the different models of coexistence that Yntema puts forth in his overview of early Greekindigenous settler contexts.

What can landscape archaeology add? To conclude this paper I would like to review what landscape archaeology and especially intensive field survey may add to the archaeological evidence for the nature of interaction between Greeks and Oinotrians. Landscape archaeology is foremost good at revealing rural settlements and land use patterns. Pottery sherds and remains of building materials found at the surface of ploughed fields are our main source of information for their reconstruction. With regard to pottery, the later Iron Age is shown to have witnessed a transition from a tradition in which indigenous hand-made impasto pottery prevailed in domestic contexts at Timpone Motta to contexts in which a locally produced Greek instrumentum domesticum became the standard. This large scale adoption of locally made Greek pottery forms was a 6th century BC phenomenon, and Sybaris has been shown to have been instrumental in the distribution of such pottery in this period.52 Forms and fabrics of pottery found at Timpone Motta resemble those of pottery manufactured in the kilns found in relation to the 6th century BC houses at Stombi in the Greek colony Sybaris demonstrating the economic and cultural relationships between the two sites. Regarding building materials and housing, we have observed that the transition from timber buildings and wattle and daub huts to houses with stone foundations also must have come about in the Archaic period and, as a matter of fact, does not seem to have occurred earlier than the advanced 6th century BC. Again we may note the similarity between the 6th century BC houses at Stombi in Sybaris and the Archaic houses from Timpone Motta discussed above. We already noted that the houses at the Timpone do not have tile-covered roofs and do not appear in an urban plan as do the houses at Stombi in Sybaris. This underscores another relationship that had come into being in the 6th century BC that between the expanding urban core of Sybaris – estimated at 515 hectares in this period53 – and the small rural village at

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Timpone Motta, namely that of a hierarchy between town and countryside, an aspect of an urbanizing landscape. The results of this urbanization process become clear if we take a look at a distribution map that we compiled from site data published by Lorenzo Quilici in the 1970s (Fig. 16). The black diamonds on this map are sites where the Italian survey team in the 1970s recorded Hellenistic potsherds and sporadically also Roman potsherds that is to say 4th century BC materials and later. It is an impressive quantity, but there are a number of problems with this distribution map all of which have to do with archaeological visibility. First of all we

 

Fig. 16. Digital elevation map of the plain of Sybaris and foothills showing the classical land‑ scape and, as a reference, the main protohistorical sites mentioned in the text. The white box indicates the area surveyed by L. Quilici and his team in the 1960’s. The gray diamonds are Archaic to Classical sites, black diamonds are Hellenistic to Roman sites (source: GIA, P.M. van Leusen).

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Fig. 17. Augerings by the Pensylvania University in the Sibaritide plain (Bullitt 1969).

have little or no information on the plain itself. Indeed, the search for Sybaris itself was frustrated from the beginning by an immensely thick alluvial sediment: several metres of gray clay cover not just Sybaris, but its successor cities Thurioi and Kopiai as well making extensive and in-depth excavation of the Archaic settlement virtually impossible. This problem extends to the regional settlement archaeology buried under the same thick layer of alluvium. Fig. 17 shows the location of the hundreds of mechanical augerings that were made by a team of archaeologists from the University of Pennsylvania during the search for Sybaris in the 1960s. From their publication, it appears that a large number of these contained archaeological deposits. However, the sherds in these augerings were difficult to date precisely, but the information leads to the conclusion that we are dealing with a rural landscape densely settled at places that developed around Sybaris in the Archaic, Classical and Hellenistic periods, perhaps similar to the rural development that we know from the Metapontino or Crotonide.54 The reconstruction of rural development in the plain of Sybaris must, however, remain speculative. Our sedimentation studies so far have shown that at places the Roman surface lies buried at up to 8 metres below the present surface; this implies that even deep-ploughing will not bring any buried archaeology to the surface.55 For our knowledge of the rural landscape, we are therefore dependent on those areas that have not been covered up by alluvium leaving us with the foothills and uplands. With regard to the rural sites known in the foothills and uplands, a second problem of archaeological visibility crops up now concerning the nature of the pottery and the architectural remains. As is well-known, the material culture of the Archaic and Hellenistic period is much more visible than that

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of the earlier pre- and proto-historical periods. In the Archaic and Hellenistic period people used more durable architectural materials such as roof tiles and stones for the foundation walls of their farmsteads and houses. Also the pottery is more readily identified on the surface of ploughed fields because of its often bright orange or pale yellowish colours and because it generally stands the tooth of time much better due to its superior resistance to weathering. To allow for these research biases, we began a programme of highly intensive surveys in the foothills around Timpone Motta in blocks of 50 x 50 metres with a 20 % coverage as well as total sampling. Fig. 18 shows the areas surveyed up till 2005 in the immediate catchment of Timpone Motta. Until now in the catchment of Timpone Motta, this has resulted in a dense pattern of proto-historical sites ranging from presumably the early to the final Bronze and early Iron Ages not previously recorded in the Sibaritide as well as additional Hellenistic sites that were not reported in the earlier surveys in the 1970s of the classical landscape. The data for the Hellenistic period now range from small isolated farmsteads to hamlets and so-called fattorie, larger farms specializing in wine and olive oil production. The problem, however, is that, like the Italian surveys of the 1970s, we still have no evidence for late Iron Age and Archaic rural infill. Unfortunately, there is no material from the 1970s available for re-study, and we must rely on the pottery scatters found during our own surveys hoping that we will be able to identify the late Iron Age and Archaic component in the rural landscape possibly among the later colonial Greek material collected at rural sites. Whether rural infill associated with the foundation of Sybaris and with the early colonial phase at Timpone Motta is present in the wider landscape is, I believe, now one of the most pressing questions in order to assess the impact of Greek presence in the plain of Sybaris on indigenous society. Fig. 18 also gives an overview of the areas surveyed in the mid valley of the Raganello watershed. Also here a substantial number of sites have been identified. The inland surveys have, however, primarily revealed proto-historical sites forming a highly interesting sequence of long term settlement and land use from the Neolithic to the early Iron Age including cave sites and open sites up to an altitude of 1600 metres. Evidence for the infiltration of Greek material culture into the upper valley of the Raganello, however, is very thin so far even if this area is only a day’s walk from the coastal plain as we have experienced. The archaeological evidence is restricted to the odd isolated Hellenistic farmstead that can be found along transhumance tracks leading up into the mountains. Of course, this raises another interesting issue with regard to the theme chosen for this conference, and this is the extent of the participation of the uplands and highlands in the cultural exchanges that took place in the coastal plains and the foothills of Mediterranean landscapes and the subsequent urbanization of these areas as a result of these encounters. What role did these areas play? Recently the Groningen team started on a survey programme that deals with this subject matter.56

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Fig. 18. Areas surveyed by the Raganello Archaeological Project up till and including 2005 (source: GIA, N. Hogan).

Conclusion Turning back to the initial question posed in this paper, whether in the case of the Sibaritide we should opt for a model of conflict or one of coexistence concerning the meeting of Oinotrians and Greeks, a straightforward answer is

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not possible based on the available archaeological evidence. On the one hand, the nature of this data is still insufficient to support either standpoint and may remain that way; on the other hand, I believe that the everyday reality of dwelling, working on the land and social, economic and ritual exchange in the early colonial period was such that coexistence between Greeks and Oinotrians will have hovered between conflict and cooperation in order to survive. Greek domination is only clearly evident with the advent of urbanization on the plain of Sybaris in the 6th century BC which in turn accounts for the development of the Hellenistic landscape of town and country of which the archaeological vestiges in the landscape are so plentiful. In this respect the situation in the northwestern Crimea, where the Centre for Black Sea Studies, the Groningen Institute of Archaeology and the Crimean Branch of the Institute of Archaeology at Simferopol are now surveying within the framework of the Džarylgač Survey Project, is quite different. Here the long lasting impact of the meeting of Greek and indigenous cultures that in Magna Graecia led to the urbanization of the landscape was absent and the meeting of cultures was more episodical in character. Notes 1 Van Dommelen 1998, 15‑36 for a concise introduction on the various theoretical viewpoints. 2 See on this subject e.g Maaskant Kleibrink 1996‑1997, esp. pp. 63‑72; also more recently Kleibrink 2006, 23‑24. 3 The Archaic colony Sybaris was destroyed in 510 to be refounded as Thurioi in 453 BC, according to the ancient literary sources. 4 See for a concise discussion de Lachenal 2007, 37‑41 “Greci ed Enotri nella Sibaritide: un rapporto di scambio e collaborazione o un conflitto di ethnoi e di interesse?”. 5 For a discussion of problems of interpretation of the archaeological record of Incoronata and other ‘mixed’ Greek and indigenous settlements in Magna Graecia (Yntema 2000; Carter 2006a, passim). For the Black Sea area e.g. Berezan’ on the northern Black Sea coast near Olbia on the river Bug (Solovyov 1999). 6 For recent overviews see Carter 2006a and b; Mack & Carter 2003. 7 The term “Mediterranean type” landscape archaeology, used by Guldager Bilde and Stolba in the introduction to Guldager Bilde & Stolba 2006, refers especially to the incorporation of intensive fieldwalking strategies. For a recent, more general, overview of landscape archaeology approaches in the northern Black Sea Region see the collected papers in the title mentioned. 8 A second GIA landscape archaeological project studies the Pontine Region in South Lazio in Central Italy and evolved out of the settlement excavations of the protohistorical settlement of Satricum (cf. Attema 2002, 93‑94). 9 The project is characterized by an ongoing and very fruitful cooperation between researchers of the Groningen Institute of Archaeology and Danish researchers from the University of Aarhus. 10 Surveys are carried out within the framework of the Raganello Archaeological Project of the Groningen Institute of Archaeology. This project was officially started in 2003 and is directed by the author and Dr. P.M. van Leusen. The objec-

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tive is the intensive survey of the immediate surroundings of Timpone Motta as well as a survey of the inland river valley of the Raganello right up to where this river originates in the highlands of the Pollino Mountains. Survey work by the Groningen Institute in the area had however already started in 1995. 11 See for an explanation of GIA’s survey methodology in Calabria e.g. van Leusen and Attema 2003. 12 Pollen analysis of two cores in the Pollino uplands testify to the impact of grazing on the landscape in the Bronze age (Kleine, Woldring, Cappers, Attema & Delvigne 2006; Kleine, Woldring, Cappers, Attema & Delvigne 2008). 13 Peroni & Trucco 1994, 832‑879. 14 Peroni & Trucco 1994, 1994, 845. 15 Peroni & Trucco 1994, 1994, 845. 16 van Leusen & Attema 2006, 93. 17 See on the doli cordonati: Peroni & Trucco 1994, 845; Levi & Schiappelli 2004; Schiappelli 2006. 18 Pacciarelli 2000,116. 19 Kleibrink 2006, 24 points out the substantial differences in settlement size between centralized settlements in Etruria and the Sibaritide. 20 Cf. Kleibrink 2006, 25‑28. 21 Yntema 2000, 5 and 26‑27. 22 Yntema 2000, 31. 23 Burgers & Crielaard 2007,107 24 Kleibrink 2001, 47. 25 The poster was dedicated to new evidence of settlements with Greek imported material culture at the mouth of the river Basento that had come to light during the construction of a pipe line. It was exhibited in Matera at the occasion of the Convegno Magna Graecia 2003. 26 Yntema 2000, 14‑15. 27 Kleibrink 2001, 40‑41 and tables 1‑4. 28 See for a discussion of various ideas that exist on the relationships Greek/indigenous: de Lachenal 2007, 37‑41. 29 As put forward by de Polignac 1995 for the sanctuary at Timpone Motta. Contra this opinion: Kleibrink 2003, 21; Jacobsen 2007, 26‑27. 30 The various episodes of excavations at Timpone Motta and the Macchiabate necropolis can be summarized as follows: Scavi Zancani Montuoro 1963‑1969 (Società Magna Grecia); Scavi Maria Stoop 1963‑1969 (Società Magna Grecia and University of Leiden; Scavi Marianne Kleibrink 1965‑1968 (Società Magna Grecia and University of Leiden); Scavi Marianne Kleibrink 1993‑2005, University of Groningen). 31 See for a recent overview: Kleibrink 2006. 32 Phasing after Kleibrink 2003, 62. 33 See for a short discussion of this feature Kleibrink 2005, 756-757 and Kleibrink 2006, 135. 34 See for the scarsity of plant remains Jacobsen 2007, 63 and table 7a. 35 Whether we deal with an indigenous goddess or with Athena is a matter of debate in view of the increasing evidence for Euboian connections of Timpone Motta. That the veneration was indigenous is beyond all doubt (pers. comm. M. Kleibrink). 36 Jacobsen 2007, 33‑35; 40‑56; Mittica 2007; Mittica, Jacobsen & Handberg 2007; Mittica, Jacobsen & Handberg forthcoming. 37 Kleibrink 2003, 80.

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38 De Lachenal 2007, 21. 39 Jacobsen 2007; Mittica 2007; Mittica, Jacobsen & Handberg 2007; Mittica, Jacobsen & Handberg forthcoming. 40 Kleibrink & Sangineto 1998. 41 Kleibrink 2003, 62 and 89. 42 Jacobsen 2007, 95ff; Jacobsen & Handberg forthcoming. 43 Kleibrink 2003, fig. 31 on p. 85. 44 These pinakes are in the national museum of Sibari and will be published by drs. E. Weistra as part of an international publication project of objects that have been returned to Italy from collections abroad. See van der Wielen-van Ommeren 2007. 45 See Kleibrink 2006, 77‑110. 46 See Maaskant-Kleibrink 1970‑71; 1974‑76. 47 Attema et al. 2000. 48 Attema 2003, 18. 49 The excavations of the Archaic houses on plateau I have to date not yet been fully published. Evidence for a Geometric settlement phase was found in the form of a dump layer in one of the trenches excavated by GIA on Plateau I. See Kleibrink 2006, 53‑54. 50 Kleibrink 2003,33‑53 for a discussion of the Macchiabate cemetery with references to the publications of Zancani Montuoro. 51 Vink 1994/1995; Kleibrink 2003, 33‑53. 52 Mater 2005, 101‑123. 53 Muggia 2000, 224. 54 Carter & D’Annibale 1985. 55 Attema et al. 2004. 56 The surveys of the Raganello Archaeological Project are now conducted within the framework of GIA’s “Hidden Landscapes Project” funded by the Netherlands Organization of Scientific Research. The project aims at developing research strategies to tackle archaeological landscapes that cannot be surveyed by using the ‘traditional’ field walking techniques used in ploughed fields. The HLP is directed by Dr. P.M. van Leusen.

Bibliography Attema, P.A.J. 2002. The Sibaritide and Pontine Region Survey Projects, in: P. Attema, G.-J. Burgers, E. van Joolen, M. van Leusen & B. Mater (eds.), New Developments in Italian Landscape Archaeology (BAR International Series 1091). Oxford, 93‑94. Attema, P.A.J. 2003. From Ethnic to Urban Identities? Greek Colonists and Indigenous Society in the Sibaritide, South Italy. A Landscape Archaeological Approach, in: H. Hokwerda (ed.), Constructions of Greek past, Identity and Historical Consciousness from Antiquity to the Present. Groningen, 11‑24. Attema, P.A.J., J.J. Delvigne & P.M. van Leusen 2004. Recenti ricerche nei pressi di Timpone della Motta, vicino Francavilla Marittima (Calabria), in: A.A., Atti della XXXVII Riunione Scientifica, Preistoria e protostoria della Calabria, Scalea, Papasidero, Praia a Mare, Tortora (29 settembre-4 ottobre) II. Firenze, 825‑833.

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Attema, P.A.J., J.J. Delvigne, E. Drost & M. Kleibrink 2000. Habitation on plateau I of the hill Timpone della Motta (Francavilla Marittima), Palaeohis‑ toria, Acta et communications institute archeologici universitatis Groninganae 39/40 (1997‑1998), 375‑ 412. Attema, P.A.J. & P.M. van Leusen 2004. Intra-regional and Inter-regional Comparison of Occupation Histories in Three Italian Regions: the RPC Project, in: S.E. Alcock & J.F. Cherry (eds.), Side-by-Side Survey: Compara‑ tive Regional Studies in the Mediterranean World. Oxford, 86‑100. Bullitt, O.H. 1969. Search for Sybaris. Philadelphia-New York. Burgers, G-J. & J.P. Crielaard 2007. Greek colonists and indigenous populations at L’ Amastuola, southern Italy, Bulletin Antieke Beschaving 82.1, 77‑114. Carter, J.C. 2006a. Discovering the Greek countryside at Metaponto. Ann Arbor. Carter, J.C. 2006b. Towards a Comparative Study of Chorai West and East: Metapontion and Chersonesos, in: Guldager Bilde & Stolba (eds.) 2006, 175‑205. Carter J. C. & C. D’Annibale 1985. Metaponto and Croton, in: S. Macready & F.H. Thompson (eds.), Archaeological Field Survey in Britain and abroad (Society of Antiquaries of London Occasional Paper N.S. 6). London, 146‑157. de Lachenal, L. 2007. Francavilla Marittima, per una storia degli studi, in: van der Wielen-van Ommeren F. & L. de Lachenal (eds), La Dea di Sibari e il santuario ritrovato, studi sui rinvenimenti dal Timpone Motta di Francavilla Marittima I.1 Ceramiche di importazione di produzione coloniale e indigena 1 (Bolletino d’Arte volume speciale), Roma, 17‑81. Guldager Bilde P. & V.F. Stolba (eds.) 2006. Surveying the Greek chora. The Black Sea Region in a comparative perspective (Black Sea Studies 4). Aarhus. Jacobsen, J.K. 2007. Greek Pottery on the Timpone della Motta and the Sibaritide from c. 780 to 620 BC. Reception, distribution and an evaluation of Greek pot‑ tery as a source material for the study of Greek influence before and after the founding of ancient Sybaris. Unpublished PhD Thesis from University of Groningen. Jacobsen J.K. & Handberg S. (eds.) forthcoming. Excavation at Timpone della Motta I. The Greek Pottery. Bari. Kleibrink, M. & M. Sangineto 1998. Enotri a Timpone Motta I. La ceramica geometrica dallo strato di cenere e materiale relative dell’edificio V, Francavilla Marittima, BABesch 73, 33‑70, 73. Kleibrink, M. 2000. Early cults in the Athenaion at Francavilla Marittima as Evidence for a pre-Colonial Circulation of nostoi Stories, in: F. Krinzinger (ed.), Die Ägäis und das westliche Mittelmeer. Beziehungen und Wechsel‑ wirkungen 8. bis 5. Jh. v. Chr., Akten des Symposions Wien 24.-27. März 1999 (AForsch 4). Wien, 165‑192. Kleibrink, M., 2001. The search for Sybaris: an evaluation of historical and archaeological evidence, Bulletin Antieke Beschaving 76, 33‑70. Kleibrink, M. 2003. Van Wol tot Water, Cultus en Identiteit in het Athenaion van Lagaria, Francavilla Marittima (bij Sibari, Calabrië, Italië). Rossano. (this title appeared in Italian as Dalla Lana all’aqua by the same printing house).

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Kleibrink, M. 2005. The early Athenaion at Lagaria (Francavilla Marittima) near Sybaris: an overview of its early-geometric II and its mid-7th century BC phases, in: P.A.J. Attema, A. Nijboer & A. Zifferero (eds.), Papers in Italian Archaeology VI. Communities and Settlements from the Neolithic to the Early Me‑ dieval Period, Proceedings of the 6th Conference of Italian Archaeology held at the University of Groningen, Groningen Institute of Archaeology, The Netherlands, April 15‑17, 2003 (BAR International Series 1452.II). Oxford, 754 -772. Kleibrink, M. 2006. Oenotrians at Lagaria near Sybaris, a native proto-urban cen‑ tralised settlement (Accordia Specialist Studies on Italy 11). London. Kleine E., H. Woldring, R. Cappers & P. Attema 2005. Holocene vegetatiegeschiedenis van de Sibaritide (Calabrië, Italië): analyse van het pollenmateriaal uit Lago Forano, PaleoAktueel 68, 68‑73. Kleine E., H. Woldring, R.T.J. Cappers, P.A.J. Attema & J.J. Delvigne 2006. Il carotaggio del lago Forano presso Alessandria del Carretto (Calabria, Italia). Nuovi dati sulla vegetazione olocenica e sulla storia dell’uso del suolo nella Sibaritide interna, in: P.A.J. Attema, P.M. van Leusen & P. Roncoroni (eds), Il progetto archeologico Raganello, rapporto preliminare 2002‑2003. Associazione per la scuola Internazionale d’Archeologia “Lagaria”/Groningen Institute of Archaeology. Francavilla Marittima, 26‑33. Kleine, E., H. Woldring, R.T.J.Cappers, P.A.J.Attema & J.J.Delvigne 2008. Il carotaggio del Lago Forano presso Alessandria del carretto (Calabria, Italia). Nuovi dati sulla vegetazione olocenica e sulla storia dell’uso del suolo nella Sibaritide interna, in: Preistoria e Protostoia della Calabria, Scavi e ricerche 2003, Atti delle giornate di studio Pellaro – Reggio Calabria, 25‑26 Ottobre, 2003. 81‑91. Levi, S.T. & A. Schiappelli 2004. I pithoi di ispirazone egea del tardo Bronzo nell’Italia meridionale: tecnologia, contenuto, immagazzinamento, circolazione, in: E.C. De Sena, H. Dessales (eds.), Metodi e approcci archeologici: l’industria e il commercio nell’Italia antica (BAR International Series 1262). Oxford, 96‑108. Maaskant-Kleibrink M. 1970‑71. Abitato sulle pendici della Motta, Atti e Memo‑ rie della Società Magna Grecia n.s. 11‑12, 75‑80 Maaskant-Kleibrink M. 1974‑76. Abitato sull’altopiano meridionale della Motta, Atti e Memorie della Società Magna Grecia n.s. 15‑17, 169‑174 Maaskant-Kleibrink, M. 1996‑1997. Dark Age or Ferro I? A tentative answer for the Sibaritide and Metapontine plains, in: M. Maaskant-Kleibrink (ed.), Caeculus III. Debating dark ages (Papers on Mediterranean Archaeology). Groningen, 63‑90. Mack, G.R. & J.C. Carter 2003. Crimean Chersonesos, City, Chora, Museum, and Environs. Austin. Mater, B. 2005. Patterns in Pottery, A comparative study of pottery production in Salento, Sibaritide and Agro Pontino in the context of urbanization and coloni‑ zation in the first millennium BC. Unpublished PhD Thesis from the Free University of Amsterdam.

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Mittica, G.P. 2007. Ceramica Euboico-Cicladica dagli edifici Sacri Vb-Vc di Timpone Motta. Prime Circolazioni Greche tra il 780/760 – 690 a.C. nella Sibaritide (Scavi GIA, Groningen Institute of Archaeology 1992 – 2004). Unpublished master thesis from the University of Groningen. Mittica, G. P., Handberg, S., & J.K. Jacobsen 2007. Campagna di studio dei materiali dal Timpone della Motta 2006, AttiGioArchF 5, 27‑37, 29‑35. Mittica, G.P., J.K. Jacobsen & S. Handberg (forthcoming). Sulle orme degli Eubei in Calabria, BdA. Muggia, A., La gerarchia degli insediamenti in Magna Grecia, alcuni casi studio, in: G. Camassa, A. de Guio, & F. Veronese (eds.), Paesaggi di potere. Problemi e prospettive. Roma, 219‑237. Pacciarelli, M. 2000. Dal villaggio alla città. La svolta protourbana del 1000 a.C. nell’Italia tirrenica (Grandi contesti e problemi della protostoria italiana 4), Firenze. Peroni R. & F. Trucco (eds.) 1994. Enotri e Micenei nella Sibaritide. Taranto. Schiappelli A. 2006. Dolii e magazzini tra tardo Bronzo e primo Ferro: una panoramica tra Italia meridionale e mondo egeo-mediterraneo, in: A.A., Studi di protostoria in onore di Renato Peroni. Firenze, 393‑398. Solovyov, S.L. 1999. Ancient Berezan: the Architecture, history and culture of the first Greek colony in the Northern Black Sea, in: J. Boardman and G.R. Tsetskhladze (eds.) Colloquia Pontica 4, Leiden. van der Wielen-van Ommeren, F. 2007. Introduzione, in: van der Wielen-van Ommeren F. & L. de Lachenal (eds), La Dea di Sibari e il santuario ritrovato, studi sui rinvenimenti dal Timpone Motta di Francavilla Marittima I.1 Cera‑ miche di importazione di produzione coloniale e indigena 1 (Bolletino d’Arte volume speciale). Roma, 1‑14. van Dommelen, P. 1998. On colonial grounds, a comparative study of colonialism and rural settlement in first millennium BC west central Sardinia (Archaeological Studies University of Leiden 2). Leiden. van Leusen, P.M. & P.A.J. Attema 2003. Regional archaeological patterns in the Sibaritide; preliminary results of the RPC field survey campaign 2000, Palaeohistoria, Acta et communications institute archeologici universitatis Gron‑ inganae 43/44 (2001/2002), 397‑ 416. van Leusen, P.M. & P.A.J. Attema 2006. De veldverkenning Siba 2004‑5 rond Francavilla Marittima (Calabrië, Italië); eerste resultaten, Paleo-Aktueel 17, 82‑89. Vink, M. 1994/1995. Confrontatie of Coëxistentie? De verhouding tussen lokale bewoners en Griekse kolonisten in Zuid-Italië, Tijdschrift voor Mediterrane Archeologie 14, 16‑24. Yntema, D.G. 2000. Mental Landscapes of Colonization: The ancient written sources and the archaeology of early colonial-Greek south-eastern Italy, Bulletin Antieke Beschaving 75, 1‑49.

The Chora Formation of the Greek Cities of Aegean Thrace. Towards a Chronological Approach to the Colonization Process Alexandre Baralis

The notion of chora within the Greek colonial world still constitutes a difficult reality to agree upon, as regards the organisation of its space, the chronology of its formation or even its borders themselves. Defined as the territory immediately surrounding a city, the chora remains, according to most of the studies devoted to it, a space which the city is supposed to have dominated politically and economically, to have used for its necropolis and to have cultivated for its agricultural needs from the city’s foundation onwards or shortly thereafter. A place of exchange or conflict, and sometimes of cohabitation, the chora raises the question of the relationship between cities traditionally considered to be of essentially Greek population and their immediate native hinterland. Answering this question is often done by drawing on models developed for Magna Graecia and a few examples from written sources. This paper attempts a survey of the situation in Aegean Thrace, a recent area of archaeological research and still poorly known by scholars. In this region of the Greek colonial world it is possible to approach the formation process of the city territory in a chronological way which allows a fruitful reconsideration of the complex relationship between the Greek settlers and the local populations.1

Greek colonization in context: Aegean Thrace before the arrival of the first Greek settlers The term “Aegean Thrace,” common nowadays in historical bibliographies, is a recent geographical notion. It is applied to an area strongly disputed at the beginning of the 20th century, which lies now entirely within the limits of the administrative district of western Thrace in northern Greece. This area bordered by the Nestos River to the west and the Hebros River to the east gathers within its limits several geographical units, very distinct from one to another. Historical sources locate here different populations ethnically characterised as Thracian such as the Sapaians, Bistonians or Kikonians (Hom. 2.846; Hdt. 7.110). Although this region represents undoubtedly the first sector of the

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Thracian coast known to the Greeks and is closely integrated into the Greek mythological world, historical sources do not provide us with any information concerning the settlement patterns of this area. Appian a much later Roman source writes of shores almost uninhabited due to a fear of piracy and describes a situation very similar to that of the eremos chora, the “desert country” of Magna Graecia (App. Civ. 4.102). Strabon, however, mentions the formal presence of three Kikonian cities: Xantheia, Maroneia and Ismaros (Strab. 7.43). The last one was also known to Harpokration. Our own know­ ledge of the subject is still limited, and the available archaeological evidence is both recent and incomplete. Unlike Thasos which has been regularly excavated since the beginning of the 20th century, the archaeological exploration of Aegean Thrace started only in the 1950s, and the first survey realised in the mountainous hinterlands took place only in the 1970s. Generally, until the end of the 1980s Thracian remains were often described as “prehistoric”, and excavations were mainly concentrated on Greek colonies located along the coast. Nevertheless, since studies of the ancient Thracian populations are gradually increasing, new evidence which can be used in the historical studies of Thrace is becoming available.

The development of the early Iron Age settlement pattern The major features of the settlement pattern observed in the period immediately preceding the foundation of the Greek colonies in the northern Aegean appear to have been established during the late Bronze Age (Fig. 1). A major evolution then took place in the spatial occupation networks and the social structures of the local populations. In Central Macedonia and more particularly in the Langada Basin, a sector well studied by K. Kotsakis, a gradual diversification of the geographical sectors inhabited can be seen.2 Henceforth, the slopes of the mountains and the highest zones are also taken into use. This development seems to reflect an increased hierarchy between the settlements around fortified centres as shown by the tells of Assiros and Perivolaki and further to the West on the Thermaic Gulf particularly by the tells of Toumba, Thermi and Gona. This change also demonstrates an internal process in the different communities which is also revealed by the appearance of important buildings in the settlements’ highest point. Such structures would not have come into existence without a central authority behind them.3 In eastern Macedonia the modification of the settlement pattern is also obvious. The sectors inhabited are located in the foothills or the hills’ slopes rather than in the central part of the basins.4 B. Blouet would like to see here the result of the exploitation of new lands rather than an incastellamento phenomenon.5 Further to the north, finds in the western Rhodope Mountains illustrate an important development of the settlements not only along the Nestos River, but also in the adjacent valleys.6 Thasos, however, offers a very distinct situation. Except for Potos, all of the coastal settlements were deserted for forti-

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Bulgaria

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2

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3 

7 10

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11  12

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Turkey

5

16

8 9 

Greece

13

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1 

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Aegean Sea

Fig. 1. Archaeological sites of the early Iron Age in Aegean Thrace mentioned in the text.  Fortified sites  Unfortified sites  Necropolis 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8.

Oisyme Platania Mourgana Tsouka Asar Tepe Sarakinis Kastri Toxotes Asar Tepe Erganis

9. Aghios Giorgos 10. Aghios Athanassios 11. Petralofos 12. Phanari 13. Zone 14. Poltymbria / Ainos 15. Vafeïka 16. Mikro Doukato

fied settlements located on hill sites, well away from the shores as revealed by the acropolis of Kastri.7 The late Bronze Age in Aegean Thrace is not well documented owing to the weakness of the archaeological studies of the various settlements belonging to this period and the lack of publications of what earlier excavations have taken place. The indexes of the settlements listed in the Arkhaiologikon Deltion and other journals, however, show a real diversity in the settlement patterns of this period. We can observe that the occupation of mountain tops began at this time as took place at the site of Asar Tepe near the modern village of Ergani. This development appears very similar to the situation studied in Bulgarian eastern Rhodope.8 Moreover, the sites located in the southern foothills of the

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Rhodope Mountains as well as along the hydrographic network, especially the Filiouri River, in the central part of the Komotini Basin, are numerous.9 These characteristics continue during the transition to the early Iron Age and increase thereafter. In the time prior to the Greek colonization we can note that, contrary to Appian’s assertion, there is no eremos chora in Aegean Thrace, an observation that also takes the coastal zones into account. The Cape Phanari close to the mouth of the Bistonis Pond, as well as the colony of Zone, was actually already inhabited during the early Iron Age.10 Ainos, according to the literary sources, continued a Thracian settlement originally named Poltymbria (Strab. 7.6.1), a situation which corresponds to that observed in the Thasian peraia, where some colonies were located at, or near, pre-existing Thracian settlements.11 Another feature of early Iron Age settlement patterns is the development of numerous fortifications concentrated in the mountainous sectors of Thrace. The excavations of the fortified sites of Tsouka and Asar Tepe near the modern village of Sarakini confirm the chronology of this development, which also corresponds to the results of research work carried out on the Aghios Giorgos Peak in the Ismaros Mountains, in the Oisymi and Pithari coastal acropoleis in eastern Macedonia, and at the inland fortresses of Platania and Mourgana in the Xeropotamos and Nestos valleys.12 These sites are of differing sizes, and although their exact purpose is not always clear, they seem to have served different purposes. The first category, commonly known in Greek and Bulgarian Thrace under the Turkish name of kale or sometimes in Greek as kastro, represents a group of fortifications built in dry stone which surround the top of the hills around a small plateau. The research of N. Efstratiou near the village of Sarakini close to the Greek-Bulgarian borders shows that these constructions could serve pastoral purposes and need not always have had a defensive function.13 Of course, such structures connected to the villages located in the valley play an important part in the economical exploitation of each spatial unit. On the other hand, the large, inhabited acropoleis surrounded by a ring wall constitute a very different category of sites. As in Bulgarian eastern Rhodope most of them are located in mountainous regions such as Asar Tepe near the village of Ergani or Aghios Giorgos in the Ismaros Mountains.14 The large fortified settlement of Toxotes located on top of a low hill close to the Nestos River, should also be included in this list.15 These settlements reveal the progressive development of a strong hierarchy in the settlement pattern. Indeed, these acropoleis look down on other unfortified sites, a situation well attested in Thasos where we may note the existence of the large acropolis of Kastri and an unfortified settlement in Limenas on the north coast.16 In Aegean Thrace, the Asar Tepe Erganis acropolis clearly stands out from the other sites located along the Philiouri River, while we note south of Toxotes two small and unfortified settlements in Petralofos (near Mandra) and Aghios Athanasios close to the modern village of Avdira.17 Because of its hierarchical structure, the Thracian world on the Aegean

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shores was divided and subject to internal conflicts. A third category of fortification composed of either two or three ranges of wall with or without any remains of habitations seems to assume some defensive or military purpose as is clearly shown in Bulgaria in the case of Kievo and Peroun kale. This assertion finds confirmation in the destruction of Kastri prior to the Greek colonization, which could be dated back to the end of the 8th or the first decades of the 7th century BC thanks to the G2‑3 ceramic found at the site.18

The cultural diversity of the Aegean Thracian societies The lack of any political unity, underlined by Herodotos (Hdt. 5.3), is not the only reflection of the division of the Thracian world into small power units nor of a prepolitic stage of internal organization i.e. the tribe. It is also the direct consequence of a true diversity in the cultural profiles often masked by the generic terms applied to Thrace and to the various populations of which it was made up. The ritual customs known from the archaeological evidence constitute here a very precious piece of evidence which allows us to comprehend this reality. Although they cannot be immediately translated as ethnic identities, which we cannot grasp from the archeological material, the ritual customs do form a set of practices through which a group defines itself. Since the burial customs on the northern Aegean shores are profoundly different from one area to the next, this throws light the cultural diversity of the Thracian world (Fig. 2). For instance, in the western Rhodope Mountains, from the late Bronze Age onwards, primary or secondary cremations in ash urns under a barrow are the most common type of burial.19 These burial customs extended into the Drama Basin in the first stage of the early Iron Age as shown by three barrows excavated in an industrial area close to the city.20 Weapons, dagger and spear points, as well bronze jewellery, constitute the main features of the grave goods. Moreover, a vase, often a kantharos or a jug, completes the material in the grave. Later this group gradually changes customs and adopts the practice of inhumation in a pithos for children. The necropolis of Kastas also makes use of this form.21 Defined through these burial customs, this group seems to be culturally close to the population present in Oisyme where secondary cremations without a barrow represent a high proportion of the graves of the 6th century BC.22 The grave goods here consist of weapons as well local hand made pottery and fibulae. In the same period, at the site of Phaia Petra, in the northern part of the Serres Basin, we can observe burial customs completely different from the above mentioned ones. Primary or secondary inhumation in a family enclosure prevails here, something rather similar to what was practiced in Thasos. On the island inhumations occurred in pit graves surrounded by small stone walls limiting the burial area.23 Sometimes a stone cover gives the structure the appearance of a small building. In Aegean Thrace, however, the excavations made by D. Triantaphyllos in a

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    

    

 



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



       





Fig. 2. Burial customs of the Rhodope Mountains, eastern Macedonia and Aegean Thrace during the early Iron Age.   1 Cremation under barrow   2 Cremation with megalithic structure   3 Cremation in urn and inhumation in pithos / in stones structure   4 Inhumation with Megalithic structure   5 Inhumation in pithos   6 Inhumation in simple pit   7 Inhumation in stone structure   8 Inhumation in cist grave surrounded by a stone peribolos   9 Rock tomb

necropolis in Vafeïka, close to the Xanthi River have discovered three adult burials in pithoi belonging to the end of the 7th century BC.24 This practise of enchytrismos for mature persons is very similar to the necropoleis of Aghios Mamas and Nea Skioni in western Chalkidike.25 Further to the east, in the Komotini Basin, another necropolis located south of Mikro Doukato, along the Filiouri River, reveals the earlier practice of primary cremation in this sector.

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In the first half of the 7th century BC, these customs disappeared replaced by a cist necropolis with primary inhumation.26 The necropolis of the archaeological site known as Mesembria-Zone, on the south slopes of the Zonaion Mountains, offers some secondary cremations in urns and some enchytrismoi placed close to two elaborate, circular, stone structures. Finally, at the same time the eastern Rhodope Mountains, in the sector of the modern village of Roussa, next to the Greek-Bulgarian border, present secondary cremations under barrow covers with megalithic structures. This last group continued to be used in the early Iron Age when burial practices changed gradually to cist constructions.27 In conclusion, it can be said that the Thracian world on the northern Aegean coast was not a culturally homogenous group. Thus the first contacts with other areas of the Aegean world take place in a more complex situation than one would expect.

The controversial question of pre-colonial contacts One of the most important problems concerning Greek colonization and the relationship between native populations and the Greek world is the question of first contacts. In his work on Magna Graecia G. Pugliese Carratelli states that behind the different myths of foundation of the Greek colonies and the influence of the epos, we can find historical elements that belong to two different periods.28 The first is that of trade contacts from the late Bronze Age, a reality well attested to by the presence of Mycenaean and Cypriot pottery in the native settlements of the Gulf of Tarento, on the southern coast of Sicily and in many sites of Sardinia.29 According to Pugliese Carratelli, knowledge of these regions remained alive in later periods serving as a useful basis for the development of various contacts in the Geometric and Archaic periods. Such an analysis, however, grants to the Euboian aristocracy the main role in the diffusion of Greek and Oriental imports that shortly preceded the settlement of the colonists.30 This idea is disputed because the identification of maritime traders during this early period is far from determined. The role of eastern traders cannot be excluded at this stage.31 Despite the debatable aspects of his theory, the research of Pugliese Caratelli has had a great influence exceeding by far southern Italy. Indeed, many scholars, influenced by their convictions that a parallel and identical development of Greek colonization in the Black Sea area existed, have tried to demonstrate the existence of a Mycenaean trade route along the northern shores of Anatolia during the last century of the Aegean Bronze Age.32 The discovery of Cypriot and Mycenaean pottery in some parts of Asia Minor has been used to confirm such an argument, although D. Kačarava, G. Kvirkvelija and O. Lordkipanidze point out that the mode of penetration and diffusion of these vases is not yet known.33 Moreover, all the speculations advanced in favour of a Euboian navigation around the Black Sea prior to the foundation of the

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first colonies eventually revealed by the myth of Prometheus and by the story of the Argonauts run up against the current absence of any archaeological evidence as has been underlined by O. Lordkipanidze.34

The late Bronze Age commercial networks Indeed, literary sources referring to early contacts between the Greeks and Aegean Thrace before the actual Greek colonization began exist in the form of the Homeric tradition and Herodotos’ testimony; however, both of these authors appear to be very problematic as sources. The Homeric hymns raise serious difficulties because of the uncertainties of their chronology and their link to reality, whereas Herodotos seems to rely on local traditions, which in turn are drawn from the Homeric epos. This process is for example specifically perceptible in the local myth concerning the foundation of Maroneia, which is drawn from the mythological figure of the Thracian priest Maron in the Odyssey.35 D. Triantaphyllos asserts, however, that the episode of Odysseus’ expedition against the Kikonian city of Ismaros and the myth of the foundation of Abdera by Herakles in remembrance of his friend Abderos (Hom. Od. 9.39‑55 and 196‑201; Apollod. 2.5.8; Philost., Eikones, 2.25.1‑2; Steph. Byz. s.v. Abdera), are to be read as evidence for early and unfruitful Mycenaean or Archaic colonial settlements on the Aegean shore of Thrace.36 Admittedly, as in the south of Italy, Mycenaean material is not absent in the northern Aegean (Fig. 3). This should not be surprising as the Mycenaean world was geographically very close to Thrace. The excavations carried out in several necropoleis located on the northern slope of Mount Olympos even demonstrate the infiltration of Mycenaean communities into western Macedonia.37 The noticeable presence of Mycenaean pottery in the necropoleis and settlements of western Macedonia, particularly along the banks of the Aliakmon River and on the plain of Kitrini Limni, is to be understood in this context of immediate proximity and local exchange networks.38 As shown by the tell of Toumba and the site of Mikro Karabournaki in Thessaloniki, the north of the Thermaic Gulf also seems to present the same features.39 In Chalkidike fragments of Mycenaean pottery were found in several late Bronze Age settlements. As revealed by some vases of the Vapheio type discovered during the excavations at Torone, contact here seems to be slightly earlier than the LH IIA.40 The mode of contact between the populations was certainly maritime. Eastern Macedonia and Aegean Thrace belong to the same framework of exchange. On the Aegean coast of Thrace, the presence of Mycenaean material still appears sparingly. Only the limited excavations in the Asar Tepe acropolis closed to Ergani, and the more doubtful case of the Cyclop’s Cave near Maroneia, have produced pottery fragments of the Mycenaean type, and these are poorly documented with only a vague reference and a photographic illustration published by E. Tsibidis-Pentazos.41 The lack of archaeological studies of the late Bronze Age sites of Aegean Thrace may

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Bulgaria 1  4

3

2

Greece 13 

5



8

7 6 

14

9

10





11 

Aegean Sea



12

Fig. 3. Diffusion of the Mycenaean and G2‑3 pottery in the northern Aegean.  Mycenaean imported pottery  Local production of Mycenaean type pottery  Mycenaean pottery of indeterminate type  G2‑3 imported pottery 1. Koprivlen 2. Exohi 3. Potamoi 4. Phaia Petra 5. Stathmos Aggistas 6. Eion 7. Palaiokastro Karyanis 8. Lakkovikia

9. Neapolis / Kavala 10. Limenas 11. Kastri 12. Samothrace 13. Asar Tepe Erganis 14. Cyclop’s cave

be the reason for the weakness of our archaeological data and hardly allows us to go further in our conclusions. A comparison with Thasos and nearby eastern Macedonia, however, offers an interesting parallel. Indeed, we can observe that in Thasos Mycenaean material has been discovered in the three necropoleis of the Kastri settlement – Kentria, Tsiganadika and Vrysoules – on the central part of the island. The situation here is very similar to that of the eastern Macedonian mainland where the sites of Karyani’s Palaiokastro, Lakkovikia and, further inland, Stathmos Angistas reveal simi-

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lar pottery.42 This circulation started in the LH IIIA at the same time as sites on Chalkidike began to import such wares and was followed afterwards by the production of imitations in local clay in Thasos, as well as on the Drama Plain, each with its own characteristics.43 This fact confirms the existence of contact with Aegean traders. Later productions of local wheel made pottery were well diffused on the mainland, especially in the southern part of the Rhodope Range as shown at the necropolis of Phaia Petra on the western slope of Mount Vrontous, as well as in the Potamoi and Exohi’s barrows, close to the present Greek-Bulgarian border.44 This last site reveals the existence of a trade network between the Drama Plain and the Gotse Deltchev Basin during this period which undoubtedly followed the Xeropotamos and Nestos valleys to reach the settlement of Koprivlen where fragments of a skyphos dated to the LH IIIB were found.45 The existence of many contacts between the Mycenaean world and the north Aegean shores seems to be a reality well attested for the period between the LH IIIA and the LH IIIC. Rather than seeing this as a sign of a colonial settlement, a theory voiced by I. Votokoupoulou in discussing the case of the acropolis of Vigla, I would see these contacts as stemming from the existence of a maritime trade.46 The maintenance of these contacts beyond the LH IIIC seems doubtful. In Thasos we observe that an imitative production based on the latest models of Mycenaean ceramics survives over a relatively long period, but without any renewal of the shapes. A break in the relationship with the southern Aegean world is revealed in the last decades of the late Bronze Age.47

The Geometric and Archaic period: the doubtful identification of the traders The revival of the connection between the northern shores of the Aegean and the southernmost areas, a situation well observed during the Protogeometric period in Chalkidike and somewhat later in Thasos, raises the question of the identity of the traders. Some scholars suggest that Phoenician traders were present in this area during the first centuries following the Dark Ages. Among the different elements used in proving the existence of such trade, Herodotos’ testimony constitutes the most serious evidence. He reports a local tradition from the island current during the 5th century BC according to which Phoenicians were the first to exploit the Ainyra and Koinyra mines (Hdt. 6.47).48 Homeric references seem obvious, in particular book XV of the Odyssey where Homer describes the presence of Phoenician itinerant tradesmen in the Aegean (Od. 15.419‑20). Most surprisingly, Herodotos also claims to have seen in Phoenicia a sanctuary devoted to the Thasian Herakles (Hdt. 2.44). Consequently, P. Devambez thinks it possible to distinguish a reciprocal Phoenician influence on the Sanctuary of Herakles in Thasos.49 Moreover, F. Salviat hoped to prove the Phoenician origin of the Byblian wine production in the Thasian peraia, and A.J. Graham wished to show the historical

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reality of Herodotos’ information by his 1981 exploration in of mines in the eastern part of Thasos.50 He also attempted to use an etymological analysis and cited the resemblance of the toponym of Abdera with the names of two Carthaginian cities. He also logically developed the idea of a first foundation of Abdera by the Phoenicians.51 However, Graham forgot to mention that no Phoenician material prior to the period of Greek colonization has ever been found in the northern Aegean. Neither does such material occur in the most ancient levels of Limenas, the settlement of Kastri or in the mines of Thasos where the earliest sherds belong to the late decades of the 6th century BC.52 Nor has anything similar been discovered in the different settlements on the continental coast such as Argilos, in the early Iron Age levels at Oisyme and Neapolis or during the excavations of both periboloi of Abdera. It seems very important to note that the etymological analysis mentioned in the different publications dedicated to Thasos originates from a controversial article of G. Dossin who used doubtful linguistic methods to demonstrate a Phoenician origin for the name of Thasos without taking the Thracian elements into account. The adoption of this conclusion by P. Devambez and J. Pouilloux gives full credit to this theory and it is referred to thereafter by several authors even though few of them actually saw the original article.53 As a consequence we must say that it is difficult to conclude that there existed a Phoenician presence in the north of the Aegean prior to the age of Greek colonization since the available data on this subject are for the moment not convincing. The discussion of the early presence of Phoenician traders does, however, shed a new light on the imports of Subgeometric pottery, equally present in Drama and in the early Iron Age settlement located on Hill 133 north of Amphipolis. This pottery widely distributed in the Thermaic gulf and the Chalkidike Peninsula has recently been considered as Macedonian or Euboian. We must note moreover at this time the imports of G2‑3 grey clay wares discovered in Thasos and on the Thracian coast (Fig. 3). This material appears to be very problematic since we neither know the exact chronology of its production nor its original provenance. Such pottery is also found in Lesbos, Aiolia, Troas and Lemnos. Moreover, C. Koukouli-Chrysanthaki tried to make a distinction between the Lesbian and the Lemnian production both represented in Thasos. She attributes these imports to the development of contacts with these islands without being able to be more precise concerning the nature of this exchange.54 Only one relatively tempting proposal tries to go beyond this apparent paradox and opposes the absence of Phoenician material and the local traditions reported by Herodotos. Following A.J. Graham, J. Papadopoulos has emphasized that an essential part of the Protogeometrical and Geometrical imports discovered in Chalkidike are not Euboian as has been shown by different analyses. He ascribed the pottery to various Greek centres one of which is Athens. In addition Papadopoulos noted the important quantity of Oriental

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material discovered at Lefkandi. Based on this Papadopoulos proposed that Euboia was only a stopover for the Phoenician traders. Consequently, the sherds known as “Euboian” discovered in Chalkidike or as “Macedonian” in eastern Macedonia and Thasos would have been produced at different Greek centres and transported by itinerant Phoenician tradesmen. This theory, which would at the same time explain the Thasian tradition of the earliest Phoenician contacts, the early character of the imports to the south of Chalkidike, and the absence of any Phoenician material, remains interesting but suffers from a lack of archaeological evidence to support it.55 Thus, no matter what the ethnic identity of the traders, the presence of Subgeometric and grey G2‑3 pottery productions in the early Iron Age settlements of the northern Aegean enables us to see the links that exist between this region and the southern Aegean. The Thracian world, however, was not a closed world. The findings of Gava type urns in eastern Macedonia and graphited pottery in Aegean Thrace also demonstrate that contacts with the rest of the Balkan Peninsula existed. It should be very difficult to conclude, as G. Pugliese-Carratelli has, that there was continuity between the late Bronze Age imports and the trade connections of the first century following the Dark Ages. Indeed, the disruption of the exchange networks during this last period appear to have been complete and nothing indicates that later traders came from the same regions.

The early phase of colonization and the installation of the colonists: an unexpected complexity In this context Greek colonization expanded thoroughout the 7th century BC (Fig. 4). It is very interesting to note, as first observed by J. Pouilloux,56 that the pottery imported just before the beginning of the colonization includes at most only a very few vessels from the home regions of the first colonists, mainly the Cycladic Islands and Ionia. Only Aiolia, the homeland of Ainos and perhaps of the settlers of the Samothracian peraia, is well represented by the G2‑3 pottery discovered in the Sanctuary of the Great Gods in Samothrace, in Thasos and in different parts of eastern Macedonia. Thasos was founded around 680 BC on the initiative of Paros and the first settlement of colonists from Klazomenai in Abdera took place in 656 or 652 BC according to Solinus (Solinus, Collectanea, 10.10).57 The date of the foundation of Maroneia by Chios is uncertain,58 and we do not possess any information on the origins of Dikaia, a small colony located at the mouth of the pond Bistonis.59 Our ignorance concerning Samothrace is also complete, as scholars hesitate between the last decades of the 8th and the 7th century BC. The paradox in this case is complete since literary sources indicate a Samian origin for the colonists, while inscriptions reveal the use of an Aiolian dialect on the island and not an Ionian dialect as would have been expected.60 The creation by Thasos and Samothrace of a peraia, i.e. a continental ter-

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 Pistiros

Bulgaria Turkey

Greece  Linos Mandra

 Berge 1

3 

Argilos

 7  8 

6 4 5

2 

Abdere

 

9



10

Maroneia



Ainos



Thasos 

Samothrace

Fig. 4. The Greek colonies of the northern Aegean coast. 1. Tragilos 2. Galepsos 3. Oisyme 4. Antisara 5. Neapolis 6. Ankontisma 7. Dikaia 8. Stryme 9. Zone 10. Sale

ritory, on the opposite Thracian coast constitutes the second wave of colonization. This process started very early in the case of Thasos in the second half of the 7th century BC and lasted throughout the whole Archaic period, as revealed by excavations at several sites in eastern Macedonia and on the Aegean Thracian shore.61 On the other hand, the earliest archaeological evidence for the foundation of the Samothracian peraia comes from the site of Zone, where the oldest sherds date to the 6th century BC.62 Our knowledge of the early period of Greek colonization in this area and the contacts the Greek colonists established with the local populations is extremely limited. The relative silence of the literary sources often leads to a tendency to underestimate the richness and the complexity of this period. Many researchers have been tempted by stereotypical models imported from other parts of the Greek world, in particular from Magna Graecia.

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The first of these models consists in applying to each colonial movement a homogeneous set of characteristics which defines at the same time the relations existing between Greeks and native populations and the geographical characteristics of the new colonies.63 In a simplified form such a theory is adapted to the Black Sea area by A. Wasowicz. She defines a colonization of the Megarian or Dorian type as based on primarily agrarian goals and on the planned and equal division of the territory between the colonists. In this model the new city is always located in an alluvial plain conquered by force and preferably by the first generation of settlers. The Milesian or Ionian model, however, favours trade and requires harmonious relations with the local populations. For this purpose settlers chose naturally strengthened sites for the development of their city, open to the sea, and not far from major trade routes such as the mouths of rivers.64 However, contrary to Wasowicz’ analysis, the sites selected in Aegean Thrace for new colonial foundations do not show any common geographical features. The locations represent either foothill sites such as Thasos or Zone, peninsulas as in the case of Archaic Abdera or even small islands close to the coast such as Stryme. The typical purpose of Ionian colonization, the establishment of a settlement at trade crossroads, appears only clearly in the case of Ainos on the mouth of the Hebros River. The second theory refers to the tradition of the eremos chora, a notion which P. Devambez made use of, including all the nuances developed by G. Vallet. The eremos chora is not an entirely empty area, but an unoccupied or insufficiently exploited one thus justifying the eviction of its occupants.65 Devambez described Thasos as an uncultivated island inhabited by an uncivilized Thracian population, which inevitably came into conflict with the Greeks. According to him, the account of the battles with the Saians reported by Archilochos (Archilochos, fr. 13, Belles Lettres) confirms this analysis even if these Thracians were not really living on the island, but more probably on the mainland. In Aegean Thrace, the war between Klazomeneian, as well as later Teian colonists, and the native tribes is analysed in the same way. This radical vision refers to the experiments of Metaponton or certain colonies of the Black Sea, such as Byzantion or Herakleia where the settlement of the Greeks was accompanied by violence and the fate of the local population varied between expulsion, submission and exploitation. Applied to Aegean Thrace, however, this view has found critics. J. Pouilloux notes that signs of a mixed population in the colony itself are very numerous. For example the lists of magistrates attest the use of Thracian names in the city between the 6th and the 3rd century BC. 66 More interesting, an inscription found by D. Lazaridis relates the gratitude of the Parians to a person called Tokes who was killed near the walls of Eion in the 6th century BC.67 This Thracian name could belong either to a Thracian man from the mainland and allied to Thasos or more probably to a Thasian of Thracian origin. These obvious elements of mixed origins reflect most probably an alliance between the native aristocratic families of the island and the new settlers. A similar situation is found in Ma-

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roneia, where the will to make use of symbols of a local origin is particularly noteworthy. The colony worshipped as founder the Thracian priest Maron and employed Thracian symbols on its coinage. Moreover, the existing link between the Thracian settlement of Ismaros/a, the Kikonian population of the Ismaros Mountains and the Greek colony of Maroneia is often underlined in the ancient literary sources.68 According to Herodotos (Hdt. 7.108) there was a city called Mesembria, a Thracian toponym, in the Samothracian peraia, and some cemeteries belonging to Greek colonies have been excavated on the northern shore of the Aegean and show many elements of Thracian burial customs, as for example at Oisyme.69 The mixed character of the population is also confirmed in the Sanctuary of Apollon at Zone by the discovery of many pottery sherds with ritual inscriptions dedicated to the god in the Thracian language using Greek characters as is the case in the Sanctuary of the Great Gods at Samothrace.70 Direct confrontation was not a general rule in Aegean Thrace and only Abdera, a city with very strong Greek features as shown by the archaeological data, followed a rather violent path perhaps due to lack of alternatives (Hdt. 1.168; Pind. fr. 52b.59-80 (Snell-Mahler)). The willingness to form an alliance between newcomers and the local population seems logical. Nor does it depend solely on the need for young colonists of the first generation to find a wife, often indigenous, or to secure a viable site to build the new city. As we have seen, the Thracian world was not a homogeneous world. On the contrary, it was riddled with sometimes perceptible tensions and quite real cultural differences. Settling in this area, the colonists could not have escaped these divisions and sometimes even took advantage of the situation. By creating alliances with certain elements of the population as observed in Thasos or Samothrace, the Greek colonists obtained a solid base for their settlements. This fact may explain Thasian expansion on the continent only two or three generations after the foundation of Thasos, just as the participation of a person with a Thracian name for the account of Thasos close to Eion. The progressive arrival of new waves of colonists undoubtedly further reinforced the Greek element of the population.

The question of the territory and the first stage of its formation The main danger for all Greek colonies however were not the Thracian tribes, but competition between the Greek cities themselves, a situation also observed in other parts of the Greek colonial world. Tensions over the possession of the coast run very strongly during this period as is shown by the foundation of the Thracian emporion of Stryme and the battle between Thasos and Maroneia for its control. Such a military conflict between two new cities and the advancement of military forces onto the continent would have been difficult if the Parians also had had to defend their new colonial foundation of Thasos against the native population of the island. It is perhaps also in this context that the episode of fighting on the continent related by Archilochos (Archilo-

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chos, fr. 110) took place as a direct assault of Thasos by another Greek colony such as Abdera or Maroneia. Indeed, a maritime Thracian expedition against the island would be difficult to imagine. On the other hand, the territory of these new colonies does not appear to have extended very far into the hinterland during the Archaic period, except for Thasos where the foundation of the Sanctuary of Aliki proves an early control of the city over the whole island.71 On the mainland we may note that the necropoleis of Abdera are situated only two kilometres north of the city wall, while the Archaic fortification has an abnormal thickness due, according to C. Koukouli-Chrysanthaki, to the material used in its construction. The lack of stones from the Mandra stone quarries, exploited from the end of the 6th century and onwards, shows that the first settlers did not have control over this area, only 7km north of the city walls, where there was a Thracian settlement.72 Moreover, the first agricultural settlement near Abdera is dated to the 4th century BC a situation very similar to Zone where the necropolis is limited to a narrow plain next to the city.73 It is important also to note the lack of evidence for a Greek presence on the plain of Xanthi and Komotini prior the Classical period. As well Greek material found on the southern slopes of the Rhodope, as well as further into the hinterland of the modern territory of Bulgaria, remains scarce.74 Indeed the Thracian settlement pattern does not indicate any change during the Archaic period as shown by the Thracian necropoleis next to the Xanthi’s and Filiouri rivers, north of Abdera and Maroneia respectively and dated to the 7th century and the first half of the 6th century BC.75 In both cases we may observe a perfect continuity in the use of the site and the preservation of the traditional local burial customs. The influence of the Greek Ionian production on the local pottery, however, increased rapidly, and even in the first half of the 6th century BC we can observe some local imitations. The situation is quite similar in the Thasian peraia where only the settlements situated on the shore are replaced by Thasian foundations such as Neapolis or Oisyme. In this last case a destruction stratum implies a conflictual settlement. At the same time Thracian sites such as Eleftheroupoli, Hill 133, and the site close to the modern Gazoros all in the vicinity of continental Thasian teiche remained inhabited.76 From these elements we can conclude that the Thracian settlement pattern was stable and the extension of the territory belonging to the Greek cities limited to the coastal sectors during the Archaic period. Greek commercial penetration was not significant during this time and involved only the population close to the cities as is shown by the imitative production of the Subgeometric and Ionian pottery discovered in the necropolis of the Drama industrial area, on hill 133, as well as in the cemeteries next to the Xanthi and Philiouri rivers. Only the Serres Plain presents a different situation and we can observe there the foundation in the 6th century of the town of Tragilos by Argilos. It is

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interesting to note, however, that its two Archaic necropoleis suggest a mixed population, Greek and Thracian, where the local burial custom of cremation prevailed during the 6th century. This feature demonstrates the participation of the local populations and the attraction exerted by the center of activity that a Greek colony could be as in the case of Emporion on the Catalan coast.

The classical period and the expansion of the city-state An often underestimated event disturbed the existing balance. Until the end of the 6th century BC the evidence for a change in the territories of the Greek cities is limited, although Abdera did take control of the Mandra area, where there was a Thracian settlement, and began to exploit the quarries77. Thasos gradually extended the network of its establishments along the coast, in particular in the strategic sector of the Lekani Mountains, a rich mining area, but no further inland. It is also believed that Samothrace began the founding of its others continental settlements mentioned by Hecateus Milesius and Herodotos at the start of 5th century BC.78 The Persian invasions radically changed this situation and the balance of power, while at the same time they also displaced in certain cases whole populations as shown by the example of the Peonians, who were deported to Persia (Hdt. 5.12‑16). After 512 BC the Greeks and Thracians were to various extents subject to Persian rule except during the Ionian revolt. Generally, the regional centres of administration and army headquarters were located in the Greek cities.79 In the northern Aegean area Eion and Doriskos receive this privilege, but C. Veligianni-Terzi does not exclude the possibility that Abdera could have played a special role during this period as is revealed by the stationing of the Persian fleet in its harbour (Hdt. 6.48).80 When Eion fell into the hands of the Athenians in 475 BC, the face of the northern Aegean area completely changed. The Macedonian settlement in 479 BC on the Serres Plain, most probably on the Strymon River,81 as well as the conflict between Thasos and Athens gradually weakened the Thasian presence on the continent. Moreover, in 465/4 BC Thasos lost control of its peraia, and after this date Neapolis acquired its autonomy, even its independence. The foundation in 437 BC of Amphipolis, which reinforced the Athenian presence in Eion, completely modified the political structure of the area. At the same time Samothrace underwent the same fate as is shown by the example of Zone.82 The progressive political organization of the Thracian population constituted another determining element, a process particularly visible along the Strymon banks. Although there are coinages of some autonomous Thracian tribes, difficult to locate, more important is a rare inscription discovered next to the modern village of Neos Skopos which offers us valuable information about one of the settlements of the northern part of the Serres Plain.83 This document, engraved in the Parian alphabet and dated by Zisis Bonias around 470 BC, recalls a decision of the boule of the Bergaioi to give some goods (τάδε)

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to a Greek man called Timesikrates. Contrary to Z. Bonias, I do not think that Berge was one of the Thasian emporia in the first decades of the 5th century BC. It appears better to stress at this stage what we know for sure: that this inscription refers to a settlement located deep in the hinterlan in the territory of a Thracian population, possessed of public institutions described with Greek words perhaps from the use of an analogy with the Greek institutions. It does not mean that Berge actually had an assembly with the same prerogatives and organization as a Greek boule. The above mentioned “assembly” discussed the possession of a vineyard and assigned goods to a Greek man who had settled there or who was in contact with the population in the remote hinterland. This fact testifies to the influence of the Greek institutional model carefully adapted in Tragilos and to the easy penetration of the Greeks into the Serres Plain thanks to the Strymon River. The situation was completely different in the nearby Drama Basin, rich in mining resources, where Greek penetration was still limited until the foundation of Krenides a century later in 360/59 BC. Further to the East, in Aegean Thrace, nothing similar is known. The most interesting fact here is the first penetration of Greek material far into the Thracian hinterland.84 This event indicates a major change in the relationship between the Greek Aegean colonies and the Thracian population. This process took place in a very particular context. In the first half of the 5th century BC parallel to the import of Greek pottery, we can observe the gradual emergence of local dynasties in the upper plain of Thrace and in eastern Thrace. After the middle of this century one of them, the royal house of the Odrysian, extended its domination over the others dynasties and a large part of Thrace under Teres and his son Sitalkes.85 This change was decisive for the Greek cities because the Odrysian dynasts asked for Greek imports and sought to increase the exchange networks as shown by an inscription found near the modern village of Vetren close to Pazadjik. The document is attribued by F. Salviat to a period shortly after the assassination of Kotys I in 359 BC.86 This decree, however, confirms previous engagements and was discovered next to the archaeological site of Adžijska Vodenica, present “Pistiros”, where a settlement was established in the middle half of the 5th century BC according to the archaeological material.87 The text of the inscription is partially obscure and a matter of controversy. I would like to reiterate here its principal elements: the document ratified a certain number of guarantees and renewed others, which benefited the Maronites traders and secondarily the Apolloniates and the Thasians. These decrees protected the traders’ goods and ensured the Greeks that their merchandise would not be taxed during transport. Without wanting to enter into the discussion of the term ΑΠΑΞ[---] sometimes read without certainty as άμαξας, the inscription reveals the existence of some overland roads from Maroneia and the Thasian peraia to the upper plain of Thrace. Contrary to F. Salviat, I do not think that the Hebros River was the only way to reach the archaeological site of Pistiros from Maroneia, nor the

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Strymon River the only passage for the Thasians as Z. Bonias suggests. The direct route from Maroneia passed accross the Rhodope Mountain, a road not very difficult in the eastern part of this mountainous range. The ancient road along the Nestos River, known in Byzantine and Ottoman times, is also a possibility contrary to a mistaken assumption due first to S. Casson.88 The inscription confirms the interest of the Thracian dynasties in supporting commercial contacts. According to Demosthenes, the benefit of this was great because this trade brought each year 200 talents to the Odrysian house (Dem. Aristokr. 110). It also reveals the new orientation of the Aegean colonies investing for the first time in exchange relations with the Thracian hinterland. In this context, we must consider the question of the double tribute paid by the Greek cities of the Northen Aegean to Athens within the framework of the Delian league and at the same time to the Odrysian kingdom from the third quarter of the 5th century BC on. Torn between these two powers, the Greek colonies sought a new balance and tried to take advantage of the new opportunities offered. Either collectively or on a purely individual basis, several of their citizens approached the Thracian dynasts asking them to become valuable intermediaries between the Athenian power and the Odrysian kingdom as is shown by the action of the Abderitan Nymphodoros. Nymphodoros was proxene of Athens and brother-in-law of the Thracian dynast Sitalkes and he tried to create a military alliance between these two powers (Thuc. 2.29). Herakleides, a Maronite citizen, counselor of the local Thracian dynast Seuthes, confirms this situation (Xen. An. 7.3). It is undoubtedly in this context that the double tribute must be understood, implicitly raising, as it does, doubt about the degree of control exerted by the Odrysians on the Greek cities of the coast. A.J. Graham has tried to show that the fluctuations of the Athenian tribute depended directly on this particular situation. From Xenophon we also learn that the Thracian dynasts could directly dominate the small Greek coastal settlements located on the northern coast of Propontide such as Ganos. At the same time, it seems more difficult to imagine a similar situation in Aegean Thrace. The correct question seems to be here: what interest do the Greek colonies have in this situation however financially unfavorable it might seem at first sight? It is obvious that the alliance with the Thracian dynasts offered to the Greek cities all that the inscription of Vetren described: namely the opening of new trade outlets and places of exchange, protection of the roads and the opportunity for the Greeks to join the local markets. This additional evidence is provided by the increase of Greek material discovered along the routes in particular at the site of Koprivlen, material which should not be forgotten in our analysis. Beyond the expense it represented, the payment of the tribute should be considered as an investment allowing the opening up of the Thracian hinterland to Greek citizens. Consequently, roads appear to be of great importance and control of them all the way to the Odrysian territory was essential. This new interest squares badly with the limited nature of the territory of the Aegean Thrace colonies. This factor may have been the main

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impulse for the Greek cities’ expansion of their chora during the 5th century. It is in this light that an undoubtedly major discovery north of the modern village of Linos in the Komotini Basin must be seen. The excavations carried out in this area from 1988 until 1991 under the direction of I. Anagnostopoulou-Hatzipolychroni on the first heights of the Rhodope Range revealed a complex of buildings laid out in terraces built on the destruction layer of a previous Thracian settlement (Figs. 5 and 6).89 On the upper part of the site a building of 9.5 m length and 6 m width in its first phase, covered with roof tiles, was discovered. It dominates several structures at lower levels: in particular a rectangular building with two rooms and a semicircular building. The unit surrounded by a wall is dated by finds to the middle of the 5th century BC. Its public character is obvious as is indicated by a tile stamped with the letters ΔΗ for demos accompanied by a vine stock, the emblem of Maroneia. This type of tile is well known from the Dionysos sanctuary and from a great public building in Maroneia. The remaining finds are also quite characteristic. The building with two rooms revealed a great quantity of terracotta of a seated female figure in protome or in full. In addition, the pottery found on the surface reveals an over-representation of vases linked with banquets such as skyphoi and kantharoi as well as a great number of amphoras originating in Thasos and Akanthos, two centers of wine production. Moreover, we may note the presence of spear and arrow points as well as objects belonging to everyday life such as grinding stones, pithoi and pottery sherds. The exact nature of this site is not certain although a sanctuary seems likely. At the same time, the public character of this complex and its relationship with Maroneia is certain. Its existence attests to the unquestionable extension of the colony’s territory onto the lowest slopes of Rhodope in the middle of 5th century. Located along one of the roads leading by eastern Rhodope towards the upper plain of Thrace, the site’s geographical situation should not be forgotten. In addition, the particular presence of weapons and amphorae connects this complex with the problem of control over the road and the Maronite trade. Its construction more or less contemporary with the emporion Pistiros constitutes an interesting coincidence. This extension of the territory of Maroneia and probably also of Abdera precedes the large diffusion of Greek material in the plains of Xanthi and Komotini as attested by many sites located during surveys, where the association of black glazed pottery and tile fragments has been noted. It does not represent an immediate expansion of the Greek population to the whole of the plain, but a progressive adoption of Greek style in Thracian domestic architecture. Indeed, K. Kallintzi observes the development of isolated buildings or hamlets in sectors close to Abdera only in the 4th century BC, a century after the construction of the Linos complex.90 The chronological gap between the first evidence of an expansion of the territory of the colonies to the whole coastal plain and the development of the first Greek settlements in this area should be noted.

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Fig. 5. View of the archealogical site of Linos (Nomos Rodopis) (Anagnostopoulos 1991, fig. 4, p. 484). Fig. 6. Terracottas and lamps, lower terrace, Linos (Nomos Rodopis) (Agnastopoulos 1991, fig. 14, p. 486).

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Conclusion The Greek colonization in Aegean Thrace demonstrates all the existing difficulties of transposing models of development from one area to one another. This is easily explainable by the opportunist character adopted by the colonists. The absence of predetermination emphasizes the absolute necessity of giving a major place in our analysis to chronology. The realities of a colony and of its environment differ over time. Colonization in the northern Aegean was based on an individual’s search for better social prospects within the framework of a collective initiative directed by political authority. However, the development of a regional exchange network in Aegean Thrace postdates the period of the foundation of Greek colonies. This later development appears closely related to the question of territory, and its expansion does not predate the Classical period. This process did not end with the conquest of the first slopes of the Rhodope Mountains and continued during the Hellenistic period as is shown by the mention in 188 BC of a Samothracian continental settlement, Sale, as a vicus Maronitum (Liv. 38. 41). This element attests to a later expansion of the chora of Maroneia at the expense of the continental possessions of Samothrace. On the other hand, the Classical period did not constitute a final stage in the Hellenization of the native populations. The Thracian element maintained itself at least until the Roman period as shown by tumuli discovered in the basin of Komotini and in the area close to Alexandroupolis. The gradual diffusion of Thracian worship also has to be taken into account as well as inscriptions in the Thracian language using Greek characters and the onosmastic evidences.91 Greek and Thracian cultures continued their dialog for a long time. Notes 1 I would like to express my gratitude to Peter Van Nuffelen and Romeo Matsas for their valuable knowledge of the language of Shakespeare. 2 Kotsakis 1990, 183‑184. 3 Andreou, Kotsakis & Chourmouziadis 1992, 184‑188. 4 19 of the 25 settlements known in 1978 in the Drama Basin are located in hilly sectors (Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1978, 231‑232). 5 Blouet 1986, 139. 6 Baralis & Riapov 2007. 7 AD 33 (1978), 292; Papadopoulos 2005, 252. 8 PAE 1972, 88; Dremsizova-Nelčinova 1980, 372; 1984, 132. 9 AD 28 (1973), 466; AD 29 (1974), 807 and 818; AD 34 (1979), 337; Triantaphyllos 1983, 194; 1990a, 299‑301. 10 Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1993b, 483, 634. 11 Giouri 1987, 374‑375. 12 AD 29 (1974), 785‑786; AD 37 (1982), 325; AD 45 (1990), 377; Efstratiou 1987, 482; 1988, 518; Triantaphyllos 1990b, 627‑628.

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13 Efstratiou 1988, 519. 14 PAE 1971, 91‑101; PAE 1972, 86‑93. 15 Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1986, 88‑89. 16 Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1986, 86. 17 Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1986, 86. 18 Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1993b, 572‑574. We must note the lack of sherds of Greek Archaic pottery in the Kastri graves as well as in the settlement (AD 27 (1972), 524‑525). 19 Baralis & Riapov 2007. 20 AD 34 (1979), 333‑334. 21 See Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1993b, 633 and related bibliography. 22 AD 20 (1965), 447. 23 Valla 2002. 24 AD 53 (1998), 739.  25 Tsigarida & Mantazi 2004. 26 Triantaphyllos 1983. 27 Triantaphyllos 1973; AD 35 (1980), 432; Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1993b, 634‑635. 28 Pugliese Carratelli 1996, 151‑153. 29 For an exhaustive study of Mycenaean and Cypriot material discovered in Sicily, Southern Italy and Sardinia, see Vagnetti 1996. 30 Pugliese Carratelli 1996, 141. For a first list of sites with early Greek and oriental imports, see Lamboley 1996, 57‑61. 31 A.M. Snodgrass first allots the revival of trade connections between the southern part of Italy and the Aegean world to the adventurous company of Greek aristocrats and particularly Euboian ones, on the basis of the Homeric model. Snodgrass 1971, 330‑352. Several scholars, like J. de la Genière, however, have raised the question of a possible Phoenician trade as the true vehicle of this early material. Geniere 1983, 261. More recently, the role of Euboians in the Eastern Mediterranean Sea was also called into question concerning the emporion of Al-Mina by J.Y. Perreault, followed by J. Papadoupoulos, who refutes the historical analysis developed by P. Lévêque (Perreault 1993; Lévêque 1990; Papadopoulos 1996, 159). 32 French 1982. 33 Kačarava, Kvirkvelija & Lordkipanidze 1996, 66. 34 Lordkipanidze 1996, 37. As recalled by A. Ivančik, discoveries of Greek material prior to the 7th century BC remain sporadic on the northern coast of the Black Sea (Cf. Ivančik 1991, 29). 35 Möller 1996, 320. 36 Triantaphyllos 1990a, 312. 37 The excavations carried out between 1986 and 1988 on the necropoleis of Spathes, Treis Elies and Stou Lakkou t’Ambeli have revealed a homogeneous area of simple cists built by local schist plates laid on the ground and along the sides of the graves. The offerings very characteristically are composed of Mycenaean wheel-made vases, among which alabastra or pyxides prevail, and of typical armaments, particularly spear points with a leaf shape which are absent from the other late Bronze Age necropoleis of Macedonia (Poulaki-Pantermali 1987; 1988). 38 This diffusion is remarkable in its importance in the Kozani department where G. Karamitrou-Mentesidi observes that in 1998 Mycenaean material has been found in eighteen out of twenty-two late Bronze Age settlements listed (Karamitrou-

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Mentesidi 1998, 459). Imports started in Ano Komi during the LHIIIA and are essentially composed of three shapes vases different from the Mycenaean pottery discovered on the northern slope of Mount Olympos: the kantharos, the alabastron and the kylix (Karamitrou-Mentesidi & N. Kozanis 1999, 359). 39 Although the exact origin of the sherds in question is not certain, the oldest Mycenaean material found on the site of Karabournaki dates from the LHII, as is the same pottery discovered not far off in Kalamaria. Tiverios 1987, 250, note 19. In Toumba, in Thessaloniki, however, the Mycenaean pottery is not earlier than the last decades of the late Bronze Age period (LHIIIC), but the Mycenaean sherds represent a significant proportion of the total pottery and add up to 5.5 % of the unit (Andreou, Kotsakis & Houtmouziadis 1992, 188). 40 Kambitoglou & Papadopoulos 1989, 441. On the Mende acropolis, the Mycenaean pottery is dated to the LHIIIC. Votokopoulou 1992, 445; 1994, 270; 1997, 718‑719; 2001, 754. 41 PAE 1971, 101 and board 112a. 42 Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1980a, 57; 1993b, 559. It is interesting to note that a dagger of Aegean origin was discovered with these sherds in Stathmos Angistas. This widens the nature of the trade contacts. 43 Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1978, 247; 1993b, 561. 44 Valla 2002, 161; AE 1979, 26‑71. 45 Alexandrov 2005, 47. 46 Votokopoulou 1990, 401. 47 Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1993b, 561‑572. 48 The toponym of Thasos itself, as well as the name of the colony Galepsos on the Thasian peraia, is connected by local tradition with the mythological figure of the Phoenician Thasos, son of Cilix, Agenor or Poseidon who came in the island in search of Europe (Cf. Hdt. 6.47 and Harpokration, s.v. Thasos). 49 Devambez 1955. 50 Salviat 1990, 466‑467; Graham 1992, 45, note 19. 51 Graham 1992, 44‑45. Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1986, 87. For similar theories about Abdera, see Isaac 1986, 76‑78. 52 AD 36 (1981), 339. 53 Dossin 1977, 200; Pouilloux 1982, 93. 54 Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1993a, 681, note 13. 55 Papadopoulos 1996, 159. 56 Pouilloux 1982, 96. 57 Pouilloux 1982, 100. 58 Fragment 2 of Archilochos, on the wine of Ismaros, constitutes according to Astrid Möller the best terminus ante quem for this foundation (Möller 1996, 318). We could add also the fragment preserved in Harpokration concerning the fight between Maroneia and Thasos for the control of Stryme (Harpokration, 281 4 (Dindorf) – Philochoros fr. 43 (Jacoby)). 59 On the ground of the main coin emission, a Samian origin was supposed (Lazaridis 1971a, 48). 60 Cf. Lazaridis 1971b, 18. 61 The oldest sherds found in Kavala, the former Neapolis, belong to the third quarter of 7th century BC, as in Nea Peramos (Oisyme) (AD 18 (1961‑2), 238 and AD 20 (1965), 451). The settlement in Paralia Karyanis (Galepsos) appears to be founded a few decades later at the end of the 7th century or in the first decades of

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the 6th century BC (AD 16 (1960), 218). The settlements of Nea Karvali (supposed Akontisma) and Pontolivado were founded during the 6th century BC (AD 22 (1967), 420‑422 and AD 27 (1972), 529). For Stryme the testimony of Archilochos is our best evidence for its foundation. 62 Tsatsopoulou 1997, 618. We will use in this article only the toponym “Zone”, for the archaeological site known as “Mesembria-Zone”, following the convincing identification of P. Tsatsopoulou and M. Galani-Krikou on the basis of the coins found during the excavations (Tsatsopoulou 1997, 619‑620; Galani-Krikou 1997). 63 This theory was first of all proposed in Magna Graecia where many researchers such as P. Orlandini, D. Adamesteanu and G. Vallet opposed the model of colonies with a primarily agrarian purpose, which occupied the center of the alluvial plains, framed preferably between two major rivers, with a model of Phokaian colonization with a commercial purpose (Lepore 2000, 42). 64 Wasowicz 1999. 65 Devambez 1955; Valiet 1983, 939‑940. 66 Pouilloux 1989, 368‑369. 67 AE (1977), 164‑181 68 Möller 1996, 316‑317. 69 AD 20 (1965), 447. 70 “Archaeological evidence for Greek-Thracian relations on Samothrace”, conference of D. Matsas presented the 19th October 2005 during the 10th International Congress of Thracology in Komotini. 71 The inscription which relates the existence of a circle road around the island is a much later piece of evidence and belongs to the 5th century BC (Salviat & Servais 1964, 267‑287). 72 Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1988, 48. 73 Kallintzi 2004, 281‑284. 74 The earliest evidence of Greek pottery discovered in Aegean Thrace on the lowest slopes of the southern Rhodope Mountain is an Archaic sherd of the 6th century BC (Anagnostopoulou-Hatzipolychroni 1990, 8). For an overview of Greek import in the Bulgarian Rhodope and in the upper plain of Thrace see Archibald 1998, 93‑94 and note 3; Bouzek 2000. 75 AD 53 (1998), 739; AD 29 (1974), 804;Triantaphyllos 1983. 76 AD 34 (1979), 332 77 Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1986, 87; Kallintzi 2004, 285. 78 For the Thasian settlements, see Koukouli-Chrysanthaki 1980b; for the Samothracian peraia see Hec. fr. 160.l.1 and 161.l.1 (Jacoby). Herodotos, describing the road followed by Xerxes after the gathering of his army in Doriskos, evokes among the Samothracian emporia, Sale, Zone and Mesembria (Hdt. 7.59, 7.108). 79 Veligianni 1997, 694‑695. 80 Veligianni 1997, 695. 81 AD 40 (1985), 271. 82 This situation is attested during the Peloponesian war when Zone, Drys and Sale appear alone in the Athenian tribute list of 422‑1. IG I 77 V 27‑31. The coin emissions of Zone are however much later, in the middle of the 4th century BC according to M. Galani-Krikou 1997. For Neapolis see Picard 1990, 544‑545. 83 Bonias 2000.

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84 The earlier Greek material discovered in the upper plain of Thrace comes from Duvanli and is dated to the first half of the 5th century BC. See Archibald 1998,126. For the archaic material found in the Rhodope Mountains, see Archibald 1998, 93‑94 and note 3. 85 According to Thucydides’ testimony (2.97), the Odrysian Kingdom under Sitalkes extended from Abdera to the Danube delta and from the Strymon River to the Black Sea. For a chronology of Odrysian expansion, see Archibald 1998, 102‑125. 86 Salviat 1999, 259‑260. 87 Archibald 1998, 141. 88 Casson 1926, 13‑24. Just as nowadays and during the Ottoman period, travel was not always carried out in Antiquity at the bottom of valleys. It is interesting to note indeed that the majority of the road axes on Rhodope more readily follow the middle of the slopes. Where on the other hand certain valleys are transformed into an insuperable defile, the roads follow a parallel valley as precisely as does the road connecting Stavroupoli to Xanthi, which avoids the Nestos gorges while passing to the north of the Achladovouno Mountain. 89 Anagnostopoulou-Hatzipolychroni 1991 and 1997. 90 Kallintzi 2004, 281‑284; Evi Skarlatidou observed the same phenomenon for the whole Xanthi’s basin see Skarlatidou 1990, 617. 91 AD 26 (1971), 438; 29 (1974), 792 (AK 449); 32 (1977), 258; 47 (1992), 498. In Loukoupoulou, Zournatzi, Parisaki & Psoma 2005, E 373, E376, E 377, E 427.

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Valla, Μ. 2002. Phaia Petra Sidirokastrou, neotera evrimata apo tin prosfati erevna sto nekrotafeio tis ysteris epohis halkou, AEMTH 16, 157‑164. Vallet, G. 1983. Urbanisation et organisation de la chora coloniale grecque en Grande Grèce et en Sicile, in: Modes de contacts et processus de transforma‑ tion dans les sociétés anciennes. Actes du colloque de Cortone (24‑30 mai 1980) (Collection de l’École française de Rome, 67). Pisa-Rome, 937‑956. Veligianni-Terzi, Ch. 1997. Teos kai Avdira, in: Arhaia Thraki 2. Praktika tou defterou diethnous symposiou thrakikon spoudon. Komotini, 691‑705. Votokopoulou, Ι. 1990. Mendi-Poseidi, AEMTH 4, 399‑410. Votokopoulou, Ι. 1992. Poseidi 1992, AEMTH 6, 443‑450. Votokopoulou, Ι. 1994. Poseidi 1994, AEMTH 8, 269‑274. Votokopoulou, Ι. 1997. Topografika Kassandras, in: Afieroma ston N.G.C. Ham‑ mond. Thessalonique, 18‑23. Votokopoulou, Ι. 2001. Greek colonisation in the littoral of Chalcidice and lower Macedonia, in: I. Votokopoulou (ed.), Ipirotika kai makedonika meleti‑ mata. Athens, 739‑762. Wasowicz, A. 1999. Modèles d’aménagement des colonies grecques: ville et territoire, in: M. Brunet (ed.), Territoires des cités grecques. Actes de la table ronde internationale organisée par l’Ecole Française d’Athènes (31 octobre-3 novembre 1991), (BCH suppl. 34), 245‑258. Abbreviations AD AE AEMTH PAE

Arhaiologikon Deltion Arhaiologiki Efimeris Arhaiologiko Ergo sti Makedonia kai Thraki Praktika tis en Athinais Arkhaiologikis Etairias

A Kolchian and Greek Settlement: Excavations at Pičvnari 1967 to 2005 Michael Vickers and Amiran Kakhidze

Pičvnari lies on the Black Sea coast of Georgia at the confluence of the Čoloki and Očchamuri rivers, some 10 km to the north of the town of Kobuleti in the Adjarian Autonomous Republic. Major settlements began at Pičvnari in the middle Bronze Age. At the end of the 2nd millennium BC iron working seems to have started at the Čholoki-Očchamuri confluence, and in the preClassical period (8th-7th centuries BC) dune settlements appeared along the shore line to the west of the Pičvnari settlement with occupation levels up to 6 or 7 metres deep.1 Pičvnari (which means “the place of the pine trees” in Georgian: the ancient name is unknown) became progressively more important from the early Classical period, and in the Classical and Hellenistic periods it was one of the major urban centres of the eastern Black Sea littoral with close trading,

 

Fig. 1. Pičvnari, plan.

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economic and cultural relations with other centres of the Classical world. The urban settlement, which lay a little way inland, occupied an area of up to 100 hectares (Fig. 1.I, II, VII)]. Three major cemeteries directly related to the urban settlement have been brought to light. Lying to the west of the settlement site, beyond the Čoloki (which will have been navigable by ships in Antiquity), these cemeteries occupy an area of perhaps 20 hectares. One has been called a “Kolchian” necropolis of the 5th century BC (Fig. 1.III), the other a 5th-4th century BC “Greek” cemetery ((Fig. 1.IV), and the third belongs to the Hellenistic period ((Fig. 1.V). The cemeteries belong to the period mid-5th to mid-3rd century BC, after which the site remained unused until part of it was employed as a cemetery again in the 4th century AD. Much of the necropolis area is covered with tea bushes, the remains of what was in former times a flourishing tea plantation. This is slowly reverting to nature, and a good deal of clearance has to be undertaken before excavation can take place. The work of the Pičvnari Expedition organised from the Batumi Archaeological Museum and the Batumi Research Institute ceased at the time of the break-up of the Soviet Union,2 but it was possible to start again in 1998 with the collaboration of the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, and work has continued each year since then. The co-directors have been Amiran Kachidze, Director of the Batumi Archaeological Museum and until recently Rector of Batumi State University, and Michael Vickers, Professor of Archaeology in the University of Oxford, and Curator of Greek and Roman antiquities at the Ashmolean Museum. This, the first ever joint British-Georgian excavation, has been gen-

 

Fig. 2. Fragments of roof tiles from the settlement at Pičvnari.

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erously supported over the years by the British Academy, the British Institute of Archaeology at Ankara, the Seven Pillars of Wisdom Trust, the Oxford Craven Committee, a Jesus College, Oxford Research Grant, the Department of Antiquities at the Ashmolean and with private donations. Preliminary reports have been published in successive issues of Anatolian Archaeology since 1998, an article on the 1998 season appeared in Anatolian Studies for 2001 and a monograph covering the work of the 1998‑2002 seasons, Pichvnari 1, was published in 2004.3 Pichvnari 2 dealing with work in the Greek cemetery between 1967 and 1989 is in the press, and Pichvnari 3 on work done since 2004 is in active preparation. The Pičvnari webpage was created in 2005 by Agnieszka Frankowska of the University of Torún: http://home.jesus.ox.ac. uk/~mvickers/Home%20page.htm and has since been updated.

The settlement Early work in the area of the settlement was not easy in that it took place in a copse, where the trees were deep-rooted. The upper level produced the tip of a late Roman wine jar. The underlying Hellenistic layer included pithos fragments and tiles from Sinope and Herakleia Pontike (Fig. 2).4 Fragments of imported (mostly Sinopean) and locally made amphorae characterised the next levels (Fig. 3), and in a level datable by 5th and 4th century BC pottery were found hard-packed misshapen lumps of fired clay that were probably the remains a wooden structure destroyed by fire. Much the same profile was obtained in a trench dug in more open ground, where we were able to go deeper, as far as the 8th or 7th century BC wooden foundations of houses, a level at which a wooden plough and a Kolchian bronze axe were found.

 

Fig. 3. Amphora fragments from the settlement at Pičvnari.

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Fig. 4. Spindle whorls from the settlement at Pičvnari.

 

Fig. 5. Loom weights from the settlement at Pičvnari.

It had been hoped to date these foundations employing dendrochronology, but they are of beech, and the dendrochronological profile of beech is as yet unknown (thanks are due at this point to Professor Peter Kuniholm of the Cornell Dendrochronology Laboratory for his help in this matter). Spindlewhorls (Fig. 4), loom-weights (Fig. 5), grindstones, net weights and whetstones in addition to a large number of ceramic finds attested to the way of life of the Kolchian inhabitants. There is no indication as yet as to where the Greek population of ancient Pičvnari may have lived.

The Kolchian cemetery The “Kolchian” cemetery is situated to the west of the Pičvnari settlement, on a natural elevation, called “Napurvala” by the local residents, on the left bank of the Čoloki. To the west of the 5th century BC “Kolchian” cemetery lies a “Greek” necropolis of the 5th and 4th centuries BC. The precise dimensions are as yet uncertain. There is some disagreement as to whether the evident differences between the more or less contemporary cemeteries are the result of ethnic distinctions or the result of socio-economic differentiation.5 The 5th century BC “Kolchian” cemetery occupies a large area. The hill slopes from the south-east to the north-west. Burials are found almost ev-

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Fig. 6. The Kolchian cemetery at Pičvnari.

 

erywhere. Intermittent field work has been carried on here since 1966. 232 burials had been studied before 1989 and 115 since. The inventory of burial complexes constitutes the principal source for the study of Kolchian history and culture of the Classical period, in particular evidence for trading links with Greek centres. Some 50 cm below the regular ground level, beneath layer of lose earth is a layer of hardened sandy soil into which the outlines of most of the burials cut into the natural earth could clearly be seen. Most burials are simple pit burials in which the deceased were laid in a crouched position (Fig. 6). A feature of the acid soil is that nothing organic survives, whether bones, wood or textiles. Both imported and local pottery occurs among the grave goods, and they are frequently placed near the head. For example, Burial 234 found in 2005 included an Attic black-gloss bolsal (one handle of which was broken off) and a locally made Kolchian jug. A peculiar feature of burials at Pičvnari in both “Kolchian” and “Greek” cemeteries is the presence of the custom of “Charon’s obol”, whereby a coin or coins might be placed in the mouth of the dead. Such coins are most frequently the locally produced kolchidki, triobols with a human head on the obverse and a bull’s head on the reverse, made on the Persian weight standard.6 Very occasionally the metal might react with the enamel of the teeth allowing the latter to survive intact Fig. 7. “Charon’s (Fig. 7). Jewellery also occurs. A notable example is the obols” and teeth.

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Fig. 8. Iron and bronze nails.

 

Fig. 9. Kolchian jugs of “Pičvnari” type, the one on the left with “vestigial rivets”.

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Fig. 10. Kolchian jug with spouted handle

pair of gold penannular earrings made along the lines of Achaemenid bracelets with highly stylised lions’ heads at the finials. Wooden coffins are unusual in the “Kolchian” cemetery, and when they were used the only indication of their presence is in the shape of iron nails, very occasionally bronze (Fig. 8). The iron was analysed at the Research Laboratory for Archaeology and the History of Art in Oxford and found to be “exceedingly pure with other elements only existing as traces”.7 There is in fact a lot of evidence for iron smelting in the area of Pičvnari, and it is likely that iron was a major export commodity from the emporion at Pičvnari in Antiquity.8 Iron corrosion products allowed for the identification of the wood (Pinus sylvestris) and for an estimation of the thickness of the wood of the coffins (between 2.6 and 5 cm). Infant burials in re-used amphorae are more frequent in the “Greek” cemetery. One was found in the “Kolchian” cemetery for the first time in 2005. Our knowledge of Kolchian pottery has greatly increased thanks to the recent excavations at Pičvnari. Most Kolchian vessels are jugs with biconical or rounded bodies, a flat bottom and a conical or straight neck. The decoration might consist of a series of small impressed circles or ovals, or incised almond or fern-shaped motifs. Occasionally there are vestigial rivets (Fig. 9), which bespeak a metal origin for at least the forms concerned.9 Jugs with spouted handles are also prominent in the Kolchian ceramic repertoire (Fig. 10). Most known 5th century BC specimens come from Pičvnari and are distinguished by their careful craftsmanship.10 They would appear to have affinities with Achaemenid silverware.

The “Greek” necropolis In what is a unique site anywhere on the Black Sea coast, the graves of indigenous peoples and Greek colonists occur close to each other, evidence of a close and peaceful relationship throughout the Classical period or, if one prefers,

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Fig. 11. “Ritual platform” in the Greek cemetery.

 

Fig. 12. The Greek cemetery, excavations in 1967.

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Fig. 13. The discovery of Burial 1 in 1967.

allows for the observation of social differentiations within a society that was already multi-cultural.11 If the “Greek” cemetery really is Greek, it is important not just for Kolchis, but for the eastern Black Sea and the Classical world in general, for no other necropolis of potentially Greek ethnicity is known in Transcaucasia. The individual burials are very well preserved, allowing the accurate study of the burial customs employed. The Greek colonists seem to have chosen the sandy coastal zone for their cemetery, and the earliest burials (of the mid-5th century BC) are to be found here. In the later 5th century BC the “Greek” necropolis extended to the east, towards the “Kolchian” necropolis, and to the south. 150 graves were found in the earlier Classical cemetery before 1989 and 273 since; and thirty-five in the later Classical cemetery before 1989 and ninety since. The area was used intensively, but no cases of reuse of graves have been found. A great deal of archaeological material has been discovered in the burial complexes and on ritual platforms or “areas for burial feasts” (Fig. 11; cf. the dark patches on Fig. 12) constituting a valuable historical source for the study of the trading, economic and cultural contacts of ancient Kolchis within the Classical world. In the 5th century BC “Greek” necropolis a loose sandy layer is followed by hardened sandy soil; nails and amphorae in the coffins are often the first things to appear. After recording, individual burials are studied to gain information about the burial customs employed. The first burials to be excavated

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Fig. 14. Silver phialai from the Greek cemetery.

in 1967 (Fig. 12) were among the richest to have been found. In addition to several amphorae and pieces of bronze sympotic furniture, the largest grave (Burial 1) contained a fine Attic red-figure calyx-crater decorated with the Rape of Helen and the Departure of Triptolemos (Fig. 13). The latter has been attributed to the hand of the so-called “Niobid-Painter”.12 This and other graves contained silver phialai (Fig. 14). There were relatively fewer ritual platforms in the areas explored in later years than there had been among the richer burials found earlier to the west. The area appears to have been used for the burial of the relatively poor, thus lending some weight to D. Braund’s hypothesis concerning social differentiation. Most of the burials have the head to the east in accordance with Greek customs. The dimensions of the graves tended to be between 2.10 m and 2.20 m long and coffins in them between 1.50 m and 1.70 m. The dimensions of the coffins could be established, even though actual wood did not survive, thanks to the iron nails which were preserved in their hundreds. Nails were found overlying some burials perhaps indicating a wooden roof of some kind. The arrangement of goods in the burials followed a regular pattern. Some objects (e.g. ceramic jugs) were placed above the burial or buried outside the coffin (most commonly amphorae, usually Thasian (or Peparethan)), often at the eastern end. Within the grave objects might be placed at the feet, by the hands or at the head. Attic squat lekythoi were frequently found as were bolsals (Fig. 15) and other imported black-gloss wares (Fig. 16), the earliest dating to the mid-5th century BC. Grey-ware jugs (Fig. 17), perhaps from Olbia, occur regularly as do locally made ceramic wares. Glass vessels are frequent. Jewellery might include gold, silver (Fig. 18), bronze or iron bracelets, earrings and finger rings. Glass beads abound in some graves. There were silver coins in the mouths of the deceased in the “Greek” cem-

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Fig. 15. Attic black gloss bolsals from Pičvnari.

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Fig. 16. Attic black gloss amphoriskoi from Pičvnari.

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Fig. 17. Grey ware jug from the Greek cemetery.

etery too, again mostly kolchidki. Some coins were pierced and had clearly been used as pendants. They include coins of Apollonia, Theodosia, Pantikapaion and Nymphaion.13 Many polychrome core-formed glass vessels have been found over the years in the “Greek”, “Kolchian” and Hellenistic cemeteries. New finds include an alabastron with a dark olive ground and spiralling blue decoration and an amphoriskos with an opaque brown ground and opaque yellow and turquoise blue decoration (Fig. 19).14 The core-formed glass vessels found between 1998 and 2003 were the subject of an Oxford master’s thesis.15 Strigils were unknown in the eastern Black Sea area until they began to be found at Pičvnari in the 1960s (see Fig. 13). Subsequently iron strigils were found in 4th-3rd century burials at Tachtidziri, Inner Kartli.16 In 1998 another bronze example was found in the earlier Classical cemetery at Pičvnari (Burial 174).

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Fig. 19. Core made glass amphoriskos from Pičvnari.  

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Fig. 18. Silver bracelets with stylised animal head finials from Pičvnari.

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A most remarkable grave (Burial 261 (Fig.  20)) was discovered in 2005 that contained no fewer than five core-formed glass vessels: two alabastra and three amphoriskoi, four of which are made of the customary dark blue glass with opaque yellow turquoise decoration that evokes – albeit at a distance – lapis lazuli. The last amphoriskos was off-white with purple decoration a colour scheme that probably evokes murrhine ware or fluorspar.17 In addition to the glass vessels, there were an Attic lekythos, a squat lekythos, two silver earrings of a kind common in the Black Sea region,18 a small gold ingot

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Fig. 20. Burial 261 in the Greek cemetery at Pičvnari.

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and semi-precious stones mounted on gold wire as pendants, a silver finger ring, and a bronze mirror. It is not often the case that burials at Pičvnari can be differentiated according to the sex of the occupant, but it is likely that in the case of Burial 261, we are dealing with a young girl as the dimensions are smaller than those of surrounding graves. Some burials have a ritual platform of their own occurring mostly to the north-east or east. The burnt and charred layers contain fragments of local pottery as well as Attic black-gloss cups, skyphoi, bolsals, bowls and “saltcellars”, some bearing graffiti. The funeral meal seems to have been a regular practice, and it is often the case that there was more pottery on a platform outside a grave – either ritually or accidentally smashed – than there was in the nearby burial. Especially noteworthy is a bowl with stamped decoration dating to the first half of the 4th century, perhaps the second quarter. Its most notable feature is a graffito reading Dionusios Leodamantos: Dionysios son of Leodamas. E. Matthews of the Oxford-based Lexicon of Greek Personal Names kindly notes that “The distribution of the name Leodamas is interesting. A sprinkling through the islands (LGPN I), but ten at Thasos, seven in Athens, none in IIIA and one in IIIB (Thessaly), i.e. basically none on the mainland or the west; one Thracian, but a group of seven in Olbia, five in Miletos, four others scattered in Kyzikos and Kolophon.19 Notable discoveries in the Hellenistic cemetery to the south of the classical cemeteries included a grave containing a large number of lead weights for a fishing net, probably indicating the occupation of the deceased. In another grave was found a large silver ring with a portrait of Berenike I on the bezel. In yet another was found a coin of Sinope with a counter-struck owl.

Necropolis of the 4th century AD An unexpected discovery was that part of the 5th century “Greek” cemetery had been reused in the late Roman period. Seven burials of the 4th century AD were found overlying 5th century BC “Greek” graves. Unlike them, they contained no iron nails; hence, presumably, they lacked coffins. Most Pičvnari burials of the 4th century AD have the head to the west with a slight north or south inclination. The burial pits are long and rectangular with rounded corners and lie about a metre below the modern surface. A covered clay vessel seems to have been placed at the west end of the grave subsequent to internment. The arrangement of the grave goods within the burials followed a particular order: glass vessels were placed above the head and a flint whetstone near the right hand. Clay vessels lay above the head, or at the feet. Glass beads were worn at the neck. Coins were either in the mouth or in the right hand. Iron axes, iron knives, fibulae and decorated finger-rings might lie on either side. Iron spears were usually to the right of the body and on one occasion to the left. The material found in the graves finds ready parallels in other sites in the eastern Black Sea, such as Cichisdziri and especially

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at the contemporary Cebel’da complex.20 The most important object, critical for the dating of the re-use of the Pičvnari necropolis, was a red-gloss plate from Burial 179. Many parallels exist at Cichisdziri, Bičvinta and Suchumi and on the north shore of the Black Sea (Chersonesos, Phanagoreia, Kepoi, Tyritake, Tanais, Kytaia, etc.).21 The type is thought to come from Pergamon and to have begun at the end of the 3rd or early 4th century AD. The majority of known examples are dated to the 4th century, although production seems to have continued into the 5th century. Further evidence for the re-use of the necropolis in late Roman times came in 2005, when a grave of the 4th or 5th century AD was discovered in the area of the “Kolchian” cemetery on Napurvala Hill. It produced a pair of gold pendant earrings inlaid with red glass, a strip of base gold set with three glass or garnet beads, and a gold ring decorated with wire-work and set with a glass or garnet stone. Every year produces new surprises. Notes 1 Chachutajšvili 1987. 2 Results summarised in Tstetskhladze 1999. 3 Vickers & Kakhidze 1998, 1999, 2000, 2001a, 2002, 2003, 2004b; Vickers & Kakhidze 2001b; Vickers & Kakhidze 2004a. 4 Vickers & Kakhidze 2004b, figs. 300ff. 5 Kachidze 1981; Braund 1994, 114. 6 Doundoua 1982; Braund 1994, 118‑121; Vickers & Kakhidze 2004b. 7 J. Broadgate, in: Vickers & Kakhidze 2004. 8 Chachutajšvili 1987. 9 Vickers & Gill 1996, 108, 111, fig. 5.4. 10 Kachidze 1979, 101‑102. 11 Braund 1994, 114. 12 Kachidze 1973; Sicharulidze 1987, 60‑66. 13 Kakhidze 1974; Kakhidze, Iashvili & Vickers 2001. 14 Cf. Grose 1989, no. 104. 15 Schroeder 2004. 16 Gagoshidze 1997, 16‑17. 17 Tressaud & Vickers (forthcoming). 18 Cf. Vickers 2002, pl. 12. 19 Vickers & Kakhidze 2001; 2004. 20 Inaishvili 1993, 96‑97; Trapš 1971, 133, pl. 21.3; Gunba 1978, 68‑69, pls. 21.3, 27.2. 21 Inaishvili 1993, fig. 32.2; Lordkipanidze 1962, 244‑245, fig. 12; Beljaev 1968, 32, fig. 1.4; Arsen’eva 1981, 45, fig. 1.5, with references.

Bibliography Arsen’eva, T.M. 1981. Krasnolakovaja keramika iz Tanaisa konca IV- načala V v. n.e., KSIA 168, 43‑47.

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Beljaev, S.A. 1968. Krasnolakovaja keramika Chersonesa IV-VI vv., in: V.F. Gajdukevič (ed.), Antičnaja istorija i kul’tura Sredizemnomor’ja i Pričernomor’ja. Leningrad, 31‑38. Braund, D. 1994. Georgia in Antiquity. Oxford. Chachutajšvili, D.A. 1987. Proizvodstvo železa v Drevnej Kolchide. Tbilisi. Doundoua, G. 1982. Les kolkhidki, DHA 8, 53‑60. Gagoshidze, I. 1997. Archaeological excavations at Takhtidziri (Kareli district), in: O. Lordkipanidze & A. Tchanturia (eds.), Caucasian Archaeology: most recent discoveries and prospects. Tbilisi, 16-17. Grose, D.F. 1989. The Toledo Museum of Art: Early Ancient Glass. New York. Gunba, M.M. 1978. Novye pamjatniki cebel’dinskoj kul’tury. Tbilisi. Inaishvili, N. 1993. The Tsikhisdziri archaeological remains of the 1st- 6th century AD, Remains of South-western Georgia 21, 3-140. Kachidze, A.Ju. 1973. Krasnofigurnyj krater Pičvnari, Soobščenija AN GSSR 69.2, 27‑31. Kachidze, A.Ju. 1974. Imported coins from a grave in Pichvnari, VDI 3, 88-92. Kachidze, A.Ju. 1979. Vostočnoe Pričernomor’e v antičnuju epochu (Abstract of the Dr. phil. thesis). Tbilisi. Kachidze, A.Ju. 1981. Vostočnoe Pričernomor’e v antičnuju epochu (Kolchskie mogil’niki). Batumi. Kakhidze A., I. Iashvili & M. Vickers 2001. Silver coins of Black Sea coastal cities from the fifth century BC necropolis at Pichvnari, NumChron 161, 282‑288. Lordkipanidze, 1972. The city site of Vani. Tblisi. Schroeder, H. 2004. Ancient Greek Glass from the Eastern Black Sea Littoral – a Provenance Study (MSc in Archaeological Science thesis). Oxford. Sicharulidze, T.D. 1987. Attičeskie raspisnye vazy iz Pičvnarskogo mogil’nika: (V-IV vv. do n.e.), Pamjatniki Jugo-Zapadnoj Gruzii 16, 51‑108. Tressaud, A. & M. Vickers (forthcoming). Ancient murrhine ware and its glass evocations, Journal of Glass Studies. Tsetskhladze G.R. 1999. Pichvnari and its Environs. Besançon. Trapš, M.M. 1971. Kul’tura cebel’dinskich nekropolej (Trudy M.M. Trapša, 3). Suchumi. Vickers, M. 2002. Scythian and Thracian Antiquities in Oxford. Oxford. Vickers, M. & D. Gill 1996. Artful Crafts: Ancient Greek Silverware and Pottery, 2nd edition. Oxford. Vickers, M. & A. Kakhidze 1998. Pichvnari, Georgia, Ajarian AR 1998, AnatA 4, 15. Vickers, M. & A. Kakhidze 1999. Pichvnari, Ajarian AR, Georgia 1999, AnatA 5, 11‑12. Vickers, M. & A. Kakhidze 2000. Pichvnari, Ajarian AR, Georgia 2000, AnatA 6, 13‑14.

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Vickers, M. & A. Kakhidze 2001a. Pichvnari, Ajarian AR, Georgia 2001, AnatA 8, 13‑14. Vickers M. & A. Kakhidze 2001b. The British-Georgian Excavation at Pichvnari, 1998: the  “Greek” and “Colchian” cemeteries, Anatolian Studies 51, 65‑90. Vickers, M. & A. Kakhidze 2002. Pichvnari, Ajarian AR, Georgia 2002, AnatA 8, 15. Vickers, M. & A. Kakhidze 2003. Pichvnari, Ajarian AR, Georgia 2003, AnatA 9, 25‑26. Vickers, M. & A. Kakhidze 2004a. Pichvnari 1: Results of Excavations Conducted by the Joint British-Georgian Expedition 1998‑2002: Greeks and Colchians on the East Coast of the Black Sea. Oxford-Batumi. Vickers, M. & A. Kakhidze 2004b. Vickers and Kakhidze, Pichvnari, Ajarian AR, Georgia 2004, AnatA 10, 21‑22.

The Cities that Never Were. Failed Attempts at Colonization in the Black Sea Jakob Munk Højte

Introduction The title of this paper is taken from a book that appeared a few years ago, The Land That Never Was, about one of the most spectacular frauds in history.1 In the year 1823 a group of Scots set out to the small but supposedly well run Territory of Poyais on the Mosquito Coast, in what is now Honduras. Here they had bought or commissioned land from a certain Sir Gregor McGregor, Cazique of Poyais, who had made the venture credible by having produced a brochure and a 350‑page guide to the prosperous town with its many profitable plantations and blossoming commerce.2 Upon arrival after crossing the Atlantic during the winter, the new settlers found nothing there – absolutely nothing, except a few huts occupied by natives. Few of the unfortunate colonists survived the first year in their new home. There may have been similar attempts in Antiquity at overselling the idea of going away to the Black Sea to settle. What interests me here, however, is the fact that not all attempts at founding colonies ended in success, neither in the early 19th century nor in Antiquity. The initial settlers of a new colony almost always found themselves in a very precarious situation and many factors contributed to the viability of the new apoikia. This paper intends to explore how the Greek-barbarian relationship affected the outcome of the colonial encounter at a macro level; how, to my mind, they were an important element in determining the Greek settlement pattern in the Black Sea region and possibly vice versa: what the particular settlement patterns, we can observe in the region, might reveal about the nature of these relations. Research on Greek colonization has always largely focussed the successes. There are some very obvious reasons behind this. For one thing the source material for the cities that were never there compares unfavourably with those that were – both archaeologically and in the literary tradition. Consequently, some of the evidence for the topic must be the very absence of such evidence. Still, something might be learned from looking for the failures as well. This involves both particular cases of unsuccessful colonies, as well as

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more general considerations as to why certain areas remained unsettled by the Greeks.

Characteristics of the settlement pattern The first thing that springs to mind when looking at a map of the Greek colonization of the Black Sea region is that all the colonies were restricted to the coast and very often appear at the mouths of rivers. Easily defendable positions on peninsulas with good harbourage were clearly preferred. Greekspeaking people definitely appear at sites in the hinterland in smaller or larger groups at different times,3 but the Greek cities were exclusively on the coast. The distance between the poleis in the Black Sea region in the Archaic, Classical, and Hellenistic periods was considerably greater than in the Aegean and in Magna Graecia. This does not necessarily imply that city territories were correspondingly larger. In many instances the territories of the cities did not form a continuum even at a very late date. Large parts of the Black Sea coastline were never colonized by the Greeks, and some areas even seem to have been little explored. Knowledge about the geography and the people living there, particularly in the hinterland, was

 

Fig. 1. Greek cities in the Black Sea around 500 BC. The cities Hermonassa, Kepoi, Kimmerikon, Korokondame, Myrmekion, Nymphaion, Patraeus, Porthmion, Tyritake and Thyrambe at the Kimmerian Bosporos are not included on the map.

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meagre at best. Yet travelling time could not have been the only prohibitive obstacle. The sea could be crossed north-south in a night and a day from Cape Karambis to Krioumétopon in the Crimea,4 and the journey from Byzantion to even the remotest parts of the Black Sea, such as Phasis, could be made in about a week.5 Other reasons must be sought as to why some areas in the Black Sea felt remote and unknown to the Greeks. One of the curiosities of the settlement pattern is that the earliest signs of settlements are located very far from the entrance to the Black Sea, at Berezan’ and Taganrog in particular. While the colonization of the Propontis gradually extended the presence of Greek cities, once the barrier of the Bosporus had been broken, we immediately find Greek pottery far to the north in the forest steppe at, for example, Nemirov and Bel’sk.6 The Greek pottery from before the middle of the 7th century, however, occurs in extremely limited quantities. Contrary to, for example, the early colonization of Sicily and South Italy, colonization in the Black Sea progressed very slowly, and until the beginning of the 6th century there were probably as few as six or seven permanent Greek settlements in the entire Black Sea region.7

Greek-barbarian relations Our view of Greek colonization has of course affected the way the question of settlement pattern has been studied, and our understanding of Greek-barbarian relations has indeed changed considerably over time. During much of the 20th century, the Greek cities in the Black Sea and elsewhere for that matter were seen as “mere islets of civilization in a sea of barbarism”, surrounded by tribes so culturally different from the Greeks and so insufficiently advanced that they were unable to assimilate to Greek culture, to use the words of A.H.M. Jones in The Greek City from Alexander to Justinian from 1940.8 This view did not leave much room for interaction between Greeks and non-Greeks. It amounted at the most to Greek exploitation of the local tribes. More recent scholarship has pointed out that interdependence, peaceful co-existence and exchange constituted to a far greater extent the governing principle of relationships. Naturally, there were vast chronological and regional differences, and generalisations should be treated with caution. What the Greeks experienced in the north of the Black Sea in the Archaic period was vastly different from that of the south in the Hellenistic period. Recently, in particular the friendly relations between the Ionian and Milesian adventurers, traders and settlers and the indigenous peoples during the initial phase of the Greek penetration into the Black Sea has been highlighted.9 At this time the Greeks were particularly vulnerable, and it is doubtful whether the Greeks would have stood a chance of survival without the consent and help of the locals. Three indicators have been brought forward in support of the notion of amicable relations:

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1) At most sites in the early period, the 7th century, the high percentage of hand-made pottery among the Greek pottery indicates that at least part of the population may have been indigenous and that more ethnic groups lived in peaceful co-existence.10 The question of “who uses whose pots” is hotly debated, and it remains a question whether the presence of ceramics made in different traditions reveals anything except that contact and exchange of some sort occurred. 2) At no cities, with the exception of Istros, have fortification systems dated before the 5th century BC been identified.11 The excavator at Istros, M. Coja, dates the initial phase of the city wall around 575‑550 BC,12 but others have suggested a somewhat later date.13 Recently, finds of 6th-century fortifications at Porthmion have weakened this argument for entirely peaceful relations somewhat.14 Furthermore, just because no fortifications have been identified it does not necessarily follow that they were not there. Could the colonists at the initial stage of foundation generate the necessary surplus to construct masonry fortifications? The type of fortifications typically employed must have been earthen ramparts with palisades, and these do not always leave as obvious traces in the archaeological record. 3) There are no signs of destruction at sites in the northern Black Sea region in the 7th and 6th centuries.15 Only towards the end of the 6th century does the situation seem to change, and thus destruction layers have been found at, for example, Porthmion.16 According to E.K. Petropoulos, the Milesian involvement in the Black Sea was carried out according to a master plan: “In this fashion, two, possibly three permanent settlements (emporia?) had as their major concern the further acquisition and appropriation of the lands of the Northern Pontos, while their ultimate goal was the successful mass immigration which was to follow”.17 However, when the Milesians began to establish trading relations in the northern Black Sea around the middle of the 7th century, no one could have foreseen the troubles with the Lydians and Persians that would later befall the Greek cities in western Asia Minor.

The white spots on the map As time passed, an increasing number of Greek cities were created around the Black Sea – in the words of Platon, “like frogs around a pond”.18 Yet some areas remained devoid of Greek settlements, albeit not of population. All around the Black Sea there were people living in villages and towns, perhaps not always on the coast but at least in the coastal zone and in the hinterland. Most conspicuous in their lack of Greek cities are the southern coast of the Crimea and the coast along the Caucasus from Pityous to Torikos, but also long stretches on both sides of the entrance to the Black Sea through the Thracian Bosporos, the area east of the Dnieper and much of the western Crimea

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saw no Greek presence (Fig. 1). Why do these white spots on the map exist? At the most basic level there can be two explanations: 1) the Greeks did not want to settle in these areas; or 2) the local population in the area did not allow the Greeks to settle there. The first may be true in some instances. Parts of the coastlines mentioned did not offer enough land suitable for agriculture to sustain a large city. More often, however, the Greeks seem to have been deterred from settling by the groups already occupying the land, who in addition to agriculture or pasturing, also operated as part-time pirates. This at least is a common trait of all the abovementioned areas. Of course one could ask whether piracy was prevalent in certain areas because there were no Greek cities to exercise control and offer protection, or whether there were no Greek cities because of the widespread piracy and brigandage. A discussion of piracy in the Black Sea can be found elsewhere,19 so in this context it is necessary merely to point out that the piratical raids could be highly organised and their sphere of operations quite extensive. Pirates from the eastern part of the Black Sea may have roamed as far as the western coast at a later period, or at least that’s what Ovid suggests.20 Opposition from local tribes was a factor to be reckoned with. Below I shall discuss the situation at the entrance to the Black Sea, but in the southwestern Crimea, Taurian tribes also seem to have been successful at keeping Greeks from settling permanently. At Tauric Chersonesos, which has the safest harbour in the Black Sea area by far, small quantities of Greek pottery have turned up from the 6th century BC onwards. It remains a question whether this signifies a continuous Greek presence.21 Only with the foundation of a seemingly highly militarised colony from Herakleia towards the end of the 5th century did the Greeks manage to establish themselves permanently in southern Crimea.

Who was wearing the pants in the Black Sea Region? Were the Greeks the only ones to decide where to settle? Perhaps to a large extent the Greek cities were only established with the consent of the local population, who in many instances were “wearing the pants”, so to speak. Very often in accounts of conflicts between the Greeks and the barbarians, the barbarians have the upper hand. To Dion of Prusa, writing about Olbia at the end of the first century AD, this was a matter of fact: The city of Borysthenes, as to its size, does not correspond to its ancient fame, because of its ever repeated seizure and its wars. For since the city has lain in the midst of barbarians now for so long a time – barbarians, too, who are virtually the most warlike of all – it is always in a state of war and has often been captured, the last and most disastrous capture occurring not more than one hundred and fifty years ago. And the Getae on that occasion seized not only Borysthenes but also the other cities along the

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Jakob Munk Højte left shore of Pontus as far as Apollonia. For that reason the fortunes of the Greeks in that region reached a very low ebb indeed, some of them being no longer united to form cities, while others enjoyed but a wretched existence as communities, and it was mostly barbarians who flocked to them. Indeed many cities have been captured in many parts of Greece, inasmuch as Greece lies scattered in many regions. But after Borysthenes had been taken on the occasion mentioned, its people once more formed a community, with the consent of the Scythians, I imagine, because of their need for traffic with the Greeks who might use that port. For the Greeks had stopped sailing to Borysthenes when the city was laid waste, inasmuch as they had no people of common speech to receive them, and the Scythians themselves had neither the ambition nor the knowledge to equip a trading-centre of their own after the Greek manner (Dion Chrysostomos, Discourses 36.4‑5 (Loeb)).

Dion wrote about 750 years after the first establishment of a Greek trading station on Berezan’, and of course the nature of the relationship did not remain constant throughout this entire period. However, there are strong indicators to the effect that the fortunes of Olbia to a large extent depended on co-operation with the various tribes that dominated the surrounding territory throughout the city’s history, since we can detect a synchronicity between the prosperity of Olbia and the nomadic and semi-nomadic cultures in the hinterland.22 In this connection it is also worth asking why there are no other Greek cities for at least 100 km along the coast to the east and the west of Olbia. Was it always the city of Olbia that extended its influence over this vast territory?

The barbarian point of view Why did the Greeks go to the Black Sea to settle? What did they seek? These are familiar questions to which nearly as many answers have been given as the number of scholars writing on the subject: they came for metals (in the south-eastern part of the Black Sea), grain (from the northern shore), slaves (from the north and the east), timber (from the south), cattle, fish etc., or they came as unwilling colonists simply due to their need for land or as political refugees. The assumption is invariably that the Greeks were the active players who went abroad to fulfil a particular need of theirs, and this determined where they would settle. Following the same logic, the reason for the absence of Greek colonies is that nothing could be gained from that particular region. If we accept the idea that the power balance in many instances was in favour of the indigenous population, then it may be useful to rephrase the question: Why did the barbarians allow the Greeks to settle within their sphere of influence? What did they gain from the Greek presence? Did the cunning

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Greeks simply cheat them into selling their riches for a bag of beads – or an amphora of sour wine? We tend to think of the Greek colonies as a source of income for the Greeks, but they were often just as much a source of income for the locals. The Greek colonies served as outlets of surplus generated in the hinterland for the benefit of those controlling the trade routes. The imports from the Greek world also offered the local elites a way to manifest themselves and emphasise social differences. Furthermore, the moment the Greek cities developed from being mostly of emporian nature into agrarian communities, many began paying tribute or outright protection money to local chiefs. The predicament of extortion seems to have increased in the Hellenistic period. Normally, the obligation to pay tribute fell upon the cities, but honorary inscriptions, in particular from the western and northern cities, reveal that private individuals also paid large sums of money on behalf of the cities in order to avoid attacks.23 The collection of tribute by local tribes was a widely accepted practice and tolerated as a sort of land lease as long as the amounts assessed stayed reasonable.24 Only excessive demands called for moral judgement. The economic significance of the Greek colonies to the local population – both positive and negative, I think – ought to figure far more prominently in the discussion of the settlement pattern.

Failed attempts The first story that springs to mind when thinking of failed attempts at establishing a colony is that of Herodotos (4.150‑158) about the unfortunate Theraians, who only in their third attempt and with the aid of the Libyans managed to create a viable settlement, namely Kyrene.25 The Theraians were not the only ones to experience problems in establishing themselves in Libya – so did the Spartans later (Hdt. 5.42). The colonies in Libya were, to judge from Herodotos’ account, clearly of an agrarian nature. The settlers left because of repeated crop failure on Thera, and they meant to establish a self-sufficient community abroad. Scarcity of precipitation at the first two locations chosen drove them on in further search of new land. Relations with the Libyans were initially amicable but tension grew with the continued influx of Greeks to Kyrene demanding still larger tracts of land. The Libyans sought help from the Egyptian king and war followed, which surprisingly turned out to the advantage of the Greeks. We lack comparable stories from the Black Sea. As could be expected, we hear of the foundation histories or foundation myths of the colonies that survived and developed into city-states. Likewise we would probably never have heard about the two unsuccessful attempts by the Theraians had Kyrene not turned out to be so successful – say, if the Therieans who remained on the island had welcomed the unfortunate colonists back home after the first attempt instead of showering them with missiles as they tried to enter the

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harbour. It would, however, be highly surprising if no such instances occurred in the Black Sea.

Sinope Sinope may possibly be a case in point. The question of the founding and the foundation date of Sinope has been discussed at length without reaching a final conclusion.26 Adherents of an 8th-century Greek foundation as suggested by Eusebius can still be found, although the position seems very difficult to attain due to the lack of any archaeological remains of such an early Greek presence. The main point still in dispute is whether there had already been a Milesian colony lead by an oikistes Habron or Habrondas before the Kimmerian invasion, as stated by Ps.-Skymnos (986‑997), which the Kimmerians expelled. Later, according to Ps.-Skymnos, when the Kimmerians moved on, two Milesian exiles, Koos and Kretinos, managed to establish a town at the site again. I shall not enter into a discussion about the date or even the existence of a Kimmerian invasion, but simply present the possibility that even if we do not trust the information concerning the role of the Kimmerians in the foundation of Sinope, the story about the double foundation may not necessarily be erroneous. There were other forces in the area that could have caused problems for the colonists. What the Milesians found on the Sinop promontory was not terra nullius. Before the arrival of the Greeks, there were certainly people living at a number of sites in the coastal zone, such as Sinop Kale, Gerze and Akliman, who already had interregional contacts.27 Perhaps it was conflict with these people that lead to the destruction of the initial colony under the leadership of Habron. Later the event was put under the more familiar heading of the Kimmerian invasion with resulting chronological problems for modern scholars. Perhaps there were indeed two separate foundations of Sinope, both occurring in the 7th century BC.

Kalpe Limen The best example of a city “that never was” is at a location called Kalpe Limen or simply Kalpe, which most probably corresponds to the present-day locality of Kirpe approximately 90 km to the east of the entrance to the Black Sea. In 399 BC, Xenophon, returning with the Greek army after the disastrous campaign of Kyros the Younger, seriously considered establishing a colony here. His account of the place reveals many of the considerations that governed the choice of a site for the establishment of a colony. It is worth to quote the passage in full: During that day they bivouacked where they were, upon the beach by the harbour. Now this place, which is called Calpe Harbour is situated in Thrace-in-Asia; and this portion of Thrace begins at

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the mouth of the Euxine and extends as far as Heracleia, being on the right as one sails into the Euxine. It is a long day’s journey for a trireme to row from Byzantium to Heracleia, and between the two places there is no other city, either friendly or Greek, only Bithynian Thracians; and they are said to abuse outrageously any Greeks they may find shipwrecked or may capture in any other way. As for Calpe Harbour, it lies midway of the voyage between Heracleia and Byzantium and is a bit of land jutting out into the sea, the part of it which extends seaward being a precipitous mass of rock, not less than twenty fathoms high at its lowest point, and the isthmus which connects this head with the mainland being about four plethra in width; and the space to the seaward of the isthmus is large enough for ten thousand people to dwell in. At the very foot of the rock there is a harbour whose beach faces toward the west, and an abundantly flowing spring of fresh water close to the shore of the sea and commanded by the headland. There is also a great deal of timber of various sorts, but an especially large amount of fine ship-timber, on the very shore of the sea. The ridge extends back into the interior for about twenty stadia, and this stretch is deep-soiled and free from stones, while the land bordering the coast is thickly covered for a distance of more than twenty stadia with an abundance of heavy timber of all sorts. The rest of the region is fair and extensive, and contains many inhabited villages; for the land produces barley, wheat, beans of all kinds, millet and sesame, a sufficient quantity of figs, an abundance of grapes which yield a good sweet wine, and in fact everything except olives (Xenophon, An. 6.4.1‑6 (Loeb)). What Xenophon describes seems to approximate the ideal situation for a colony, but one question we might reasonably have expected Xenophon to have asked himself remains unanswered: why had a Greek city not already been built at the spot? Clearly no permanent installations existed at the site when the Greek army arrived there, neither defensive, nor residential, nor commercial. There could be reasons why Xenophon wanted to exaggerate the splendour of the site. For one thing, he actually did not carry the project through. Although tempted by the prospect of becoming the founder, ktistes, of a city, he abandoned the idea because of the strong opposition it met among his fellow officers. Xenophon himself was not particularly eager to return to Greece where he had been exiled from Athens, and already at the army’s first approach to the Black Sea at Trapezous, he had contemplated going into the Kolchian territory to found a colony. Back to the site: The distance from the Byzantion to Herakleia amounts to more than 200 km, so it must indeed have taken a long day’s rowing to cover

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the distance, and sailing vessels would certainly have had to put in somewhere on the coast. Furthermore, this stretch of land was considered seriously dangerous because of the local tribes, whom Xenophon calls Bithynian Thracians and who took hostage anyone shipwrecked or captured, and when it became known that a city was being founded, Greek ships immediately began to put in there (6.6.3‑4). There was obviously a great need for a safe port on this part of the coast. One possible reason for the absence of a city at Kalpe could be that the place already lay within the sphere of influence of Herakleia. But why should the Herakleians not have been interested in establishing a strongpoint at Kalpe or somewhere else on the coast to relieve the problem of piracy? Furthermore, there is nothing in Xenophon to suggest that Herakleia exercised any form of control over the area. My guess would be that the Bithynians, who seem to have lived in a network of villages a short distance from the coast, previously had prevented the establishment of a permanent Greek settlement at Kalpe.28 Perhaps they were perfectly happy carrying on the lucrative business of ransoming unfortunate Greek sailors. The one difference that set Xenophon’s situation apart was that he was, if not in charge, then at least a highly influential figure among a fighting force of about 8600 highly trained soldiers (counted at Kotyora) – without comparison the strongest Greek force present in the Black Sea region till then. Previously, the Greeks had lacked sufficient strength to settle at Kalpe. But once the Greeks displayed that strength, the hostile people living in the neighbourhood had no choice and began to send envoys to ask for friendship (6.6.3‑4). On the left-hand side of the Black Sea, entering from the Bosporos, a comparable situation prevailed at Salmydessos, which seems to have been a Thracian stronghold and a centre for piratical activities.29 As at Kalpe Limen, the main reason for the lack of a Greek city there seems to have been strong local opposition.

Chalkedon One of the most curious moments in the early colonial process is the foundation of Chalkedon. Not so much that it was founded, but that it was founded 17 years earlier than Byzantion. This also struck the ancients as highly curious: when the Persian general Megabasos learned this, he exclaimed that the future Chalkedonians had been labouring under blindness at the time (Hdt. 4.144), because the site of Byzantion right across the straight was vastly superior with regard to defence and harbour facilities. There may have been other reasons. One obvious suggestion could be that the local Thracians would not allow the Greeks to settle at Byzantion. Only some time after establishing a bridgehead at Chalkedon did it become possible to establish a colony on the European side of the Bosporos, and throughout much of its history conflict with the Thracians and other tribes would haunt the city.30

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The settlements that disappeared Another type of what we might term failures were the settlements that disappeared or never developed into independent poleis. The settlement at for example Berezan’ was in a sense a failed attempt. In the 7th century environment the location must have seemed perfect – an easily defendable peninsula at the very mouth of a large river. As it turned out, Berezan’ mainly came to function as a steppingstone to the foundation of Olbia 40 km away, up the Bug River. Moving the centre of a city-state 40 km may not seem like much in a Black Sea context, but on the Greek mainland, for example, there could be as many as twenty fully-fledged poleis within a 40 km radius. Another example is the, until recently, little-explored site at Taganrog, which was established as a Milesian emporion around 630 BC but probably didn’t survive much longer than the beginning of the 5th century. The reasons for its disappearance remain obscure. Perhaps its function as a trading station was taken over by other more suitably situated sites, but pressure from local tribes could equally be the reason why the settlement became unviable. Other sites like Pičvnari and Apsaros could be mentioned in this connection as well.31

Conclusion We learn from our failures the saying goes. In the history of the colonization of the Black Sea area there is a lesson to be learned from the failures as well as from the successes. Presented above are a few examples of the less successful attempts at Greek colonization in the Black Sea region. Many other sites with a similar fate probably never entered the pages of history. Several factors determined the choice of sites for colonies and their chance of success. Easily defendable positions, very often on peninsulas; points of strategic importance for trade, typically at the mouth of navigable rivers; sites with good harbourage, and the presence of arable land were obviously preferred by settlers. These geographical requirements can still be discerned in the landscape today. The demographic situation around the Black Sea and the nature of the relations between the Greek settlers and the indigenous population is, on the other hand, much more elusive. It rests primarily on scattered references in the literary sources. This may explain why this important factor hitherto has received comparatively little attention. Notes 1 Sinclair 2003. 2 The guide, entitled Sketch of the Mosquito Chore, including the Territory of Poyais, descriptive of the country, had appeared in 1822. 3 For example, at Pistiros, where an inscription from the first half of the fourth century BC mentions Greek emporitai (Velkov & Domaradzka 1996, 205‑216). At

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Semibratnee a Greek dedication for Leukon I from the 360’s BC has been found (latest Jajlenko 2004, 425‑445). Finally 2nd century BC dedications by a certain Posideos at Scythian Neapolis (IOSPE I2, 671‑672). 4 Ps.-Skymnos 998‑1000. 5 “To sail from the entrance of the Black Sea to Phasis is a voyage of nine days and eight nights” (Hdt. 4.85). Byzantion to Herakleia: one long day of rowing (Xen., An. 6.4.2); Herakleia to Sinope: two days of sailing (Xen., An. 6.2.1); Sinope to Phasis: two or three days sailing (Strab. 11.2.17). 6 Petropoulos 2005, 29‑32 for discussion; Vachtina 2007. 7 Kacharava 2005, 11‑16. 8 Jones 1940, 27. 9 Petropoulos 2005; Tsetskhladze 2002, 90. 10 Tsetkhladze 2002, 83. 11 Tolstikov 1997. 12 Coja 1986, 95‑103. 13 For a discussion, see Frederiksen 2003, cat. no. 112. 14 Vachtina 2003, 51‑52. At nearby Myrmekion another Archaic city wall has been reported. 15 Tsetskhladze 2002, 83. 16 Vachtina 2003, 52. 17 Petropoulos 2005, 65. 18 Pl. Phaedo 109B. 19 Tsetskhladze 2000‑2001, 11‑15. 20 Ov. Epistulae ex Ponto, 4.10.25‑30. See however Asheri 1998 for the topos of the savage Caucasians. 21 Zolotarev (1993; 1995, 138‑151) has proposed that the pottery represents an early Greek settlement. See also Vinogradov 1997, 397‑419. 22 Archibald 2002, 56. 23 The most famous is the decree for Protogenes from Olbia (IOSPE I2, 32). 24 Strab. 7.4.6. 25 Osborne (1996, 8‑17) illuminates the varying interests of the different players in the different versions of the foundation history circulating in the 5th and 4th centuries BC. However, both the Theraian and the Kyreneian versions agree upon the initial failed attempts and the aid of the Libyan natives in finally settling in Kyrene. 26 For the foundation of Sinope, see Ivantchik 2005, 135‑161; 1998, 297‑330; Tsetkhladze 1994. Graham (1958, 25‑42; 1994, 4‑5) and Drews (1976, 18‑31) has strongly advocated the early foundation date. 27 Doonan 2004, 51‑67. 28 Stronk (1991, 97‑108) has previously suggested the hostility of the local population as an explanation for the non-existence of a colony at Kalpe Limen. 29 Stronk 1986‑1987, 63‑70. 30 Polyb. 4.46; Isaac1986, 230‑231. See, however, Malkin & Shmueli (1988, 21‑36) for the view that Chalkedon was the terminus of the safest route for smaller vessels through the Propontis along the Asian side. 31 At the conference Emzar Kakhidze, one of the excavators at Apsaros, reported 7th century BC material and destruction layers.

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Bibliography Archibald, Z.H. 2002. Greek settlements in the Eastern Mediterranean and the Black Sea, in: G.R. Tsetskhladze & A.M. Snodgrass (eds.) 2002. Greek Settlements in the Eastern Mediterranean and the Black Sea (BAR International Series, 1062). Oxford, 49‑72. Asheri, D. 1998. The Achaeans and the Heniochi, in: G.R. Tsetskhladze (ed.), The Greek Colonisation of the Black Sea Area. Stuttgart, 265‑285. Coja, M. 1986. Les fortifications grecques dans les colonies de la côte ouest du Pont Euxin, in: P. Leriche & H. Tréziny (eds.), La fortification dans l’histoire du monde grec. Paris, 95‑103. Doonan, O. 2004. Sinop Landscapes. Exploring Connection in a Black Sea Hinter‑ land. Philadelphia. Drews, R. 1976. The earliest Greek settlement on the Black Sea, JHS 96, 18‑31. Frederiksen, R. 2003. Walled Poleis of the Archaic Period. Architecture, Distribu‑ tion and Significance of Ancient Greek City Walls. Unpublished PhD-thesis, Copenhagen. Graham, A.J. 1958. The date of the Greek penetration of the Black Sea, Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies, University of London 5, 25‑42. Graham, A.J. 1994. Greek and Roman settlements on the Black Sea coasts. Historical background, in: G.R. Tsetskhladze (ed.), Colloquenda Pontica. Oxford, 4‑10. Isaac, B. 1986. The Greek Settlements in Thrace until the Macedonian Conquest. Leiden. Ivantchik, A. 1998. Die Gründung von Sinope und die Probleme der Anfangsphase der griechischen Kolonisation des Schwarzmeergebietes, in: Tsetskhladze (ed.) 1998, 297‑330. Ivantchik, A. 2005. Am Vorabend der Kolonisation. Berlin. Jajlenko, V.P. 2004. Votiv Levkona I iz Labrisa, Drevnosti Bospora 7, 425‑445. Jones, A.H.M. 1940. The Greek City from Alexander to Justinian. Oxford. Kacharava, D. 2005. Polis hellenis in the Black Sea area, in: D. Kacharava, M. Faudot & É. Geny (eds.), Pont-Euxin et Polis. Polis hellenis et polis barbaron. Actes du Xe Symposium de Vani 23‑26 setembre 2002. Comtoises 2005, 9‑31. Malkin, I & N. Shmueli 1988. The “city of the blind” and the founding of Byzantium, Mediterranean Historical Review 3, 21‑36. Osborne, R. 1996. Greece in the Making 1200‑479 BC. London-New York. Petropoulos, E.K. 2005. Hellenic Colonization in Euxeinos Pontos. Penetration, Early Establishment and the Problem of the “Emporion” Revisited (BAR International Series, 1394). Oxford. Sinclair, D. 2004. The Land That Never Was. Sir Gregor MacGregor and the Most Audacious Fraud in History. Cambridge, Ma. Stronk, J.P. 1986‑1987. Wreckage at Salmydessos, Talanta 18‑19, 63‑70.

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Stronk, J.P. 1991. Conditions for colonization. Calpes Limen and Salmydessos reconsidered, in: Thracia Pontica, 4. Les agglomérations côtières de la Thrace avant la colonisation grecque. Les sites submergés. Méthodes des recherches. Qua‑ trième symposium international. Sozopol 6‑12 octobre 1988. Sofia, 97‑108. Tolstikov, V.P. 1997. Descriptions of fortifications of the Classical cities in the region to the north of the Black Sea, AncCivScytSib 4, 187‑231. Tsetskhladze, G.R. 1994. Greek penetration of the Black Sea, in: G.R. Tsetskhladze & F. de Angelis (eds.), The Archaeology of Greek Colonisation. Essays Dedicated to Sir John Boardman. Oxford, 111‑135. Tsetskhladze, G.R. 2000‑2001. Black Sea piracy, Talanta 32‑33, 11‑15. Tsetskhladze, G.R. 2002. Ionians abroad, in: Tsetskhladze & Snodgrass (eds.) 2002, 81‑96. Vachtina, M.Ju. 2003. Archaic buildings of Porthmion, in: P. Guldager Bilde, J.M. Højte & V.F. Stolba (eds.), The Cauldron of Ariantas (BSS 1). Aarhus, 37‑54. Vachtina, M.Ju. 2007. Greek Archaic Orientalising pottery from the barbarian sites of the forrest-steppe zone of the northern Black Sea coastal region, in: V. Gabrielsen & J. Lund (eds.), The Black Sea in Antiquity. Regional and interregional Economic Exchanges (BSS 6). Aarhus, 23‑37. Velkov, V. & L. Domaradzka 1996. Kotys I (383/2‑359 B.C.) and Emporion Pistiros in Thrace, in: J. Bouzek, M. Domaradzki & Z.H. Archibald (eds.), Pistiros I. Excavations and Studies. Prague, 205‑216. Vinogradov, Ju.G. 1997. La Chersonèse de la fin de l’archaïsme, in: H. Heinen (ed.), Pontische Studien. Kleine Schriften zur Geschichte und Epigraphik des Schwarzmeerraumes. Mainz, 397‑419. Zolotarev, M.I. 1993. Chersonesskaja archaika. Sevastopol’. Zolotarev, M.I. 1995. Chersonesskaja archaika, VDI 3, 138‑151. Abbreviations IOSPE Latyshev, V. 1885‑1916. Inscriptiones antiquae orae septentrionalis Pontis Euxini Graecae et Latinae. Petropolis.

The Defense Wall in the Northern Part of the Lower City of Olbia Pontike Alexander V. Karjaka

The first investigations of the defense wall in Olbia took place in the beginning of the 20th century, so this complex of problems has attracted the attention of researchers for about 100 years. Certain parts of the defense walls, the towers and gates, were of special interest to different researches since the beginning of archaeological excavations in Olbia. Now we know that the defense system of Olbia and its chora existed for centuries1. However, it was changed, redesigned, rebuilt and modernized several times during this period according to the military strategic plans and the shape and size of the protected territory.2 The most prominent parts are the remains of the defense wall of the Hellenistic period and attached to them towers of the Roman period excavated by B.V. Farmakovskij in the southwestern part of the settlement, the remains of the defense wall of the Roman period in the central part of the Upper and Lower City (Sectors I, R-25 and NG), the remains of the northern (excavated by B.V. Farmakovskij)3 and western gates (excavated by S.D. Kryžickij)4 coordinated with the grid of the city streets and the system of large roads radiating from the city to the settlements of Olbia’s chora. However, not all of problems concerning the dynamic of the development of the system of the defense walls of this ancient Greek city, its arrangement, localization and system of building, are solved yet. At the present time the best preserved and investigated parts are remains of private and public buildings and defense structures in the Upper City. Here the main lines, contours and directions of the defense walls and other ancient military installations of the Classical, Hellenistic and Roman periods can be traced. Furthermore specific characteristics of the construction of the defense walls of different periods were revealed. In the territory of the Lower City the only known remains of the defense wall dating to the Roman period were found in Sector NG. The Roman wall reduced the inhabited and protected territory compared with the previous periods. The remains of house blocks of the Hellenistic period in the Lower City covers a much larger area but the defense wall of the most prosperous period of the city was not found. Logically, they had to be located in the area of Sector NGS in the far northern part of the Lower City in continuation of the defense wall of the Upper City in Sector I, but in this sector during the excavations of 1985‑2006 were mainly found Hellenistic house blocks. At the end of 1980s and the beginning of

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Fig. 1. General view of the northern part of Sector NGS. 1 – Sections in the foundation trench; 2 – Locations of human skulls; 3 – Excavated stratified and yellow clay foundations of the defense wall; 4 – Reconstructed defense wall foundation area.

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1990s under the direction of N.A. Lejpunskaja a massive layer of yellow clay was found here.5 The excavator was of the opinion that this layer was to be related with the military defense installations in this part of the city built of mud bricks analogous to the remains found near the western gate and that it had accumulated as a result of the destruction of the wall after Zopyrion’s siege of Olbia not later than the last third of the 4th century BC. In the course of these excavations Hellenistic materials was found in the very upper part of this yellow clay massive layer only. However, neither the layout nor the character, the approximate scale and dimension of the defense wall were then determined.6 The results of the last years of excavations in the far northern part of Sector NGS revealed new material and evidence for the defense wall in the northern part of Lower City of Olbia. These data provided us with an opportunity to reconstruct the line of the defense system in this part of ancient city during the Hellenistic period (Fig. 1).7 In our excavations in 2003 in the eastern part of northern edge of Sector NGS, the section of a large layered foundation # 757 was found in the eastern face of the riverside cliff. This is a specific Olbian building technique used to increase the strength of the construction of the massive walls. This building technique consisted of horizontally alternating layers of yellow clay and ash grey clay filled into the foundation trenches under the massive walls. Remains of these strata were found in the foundations of many important buildings especially of the central part of the Upper City. The discovery immediately attracted our attention because this building technique was used among other places in the defense walls of the Upper City, while in the Lower City layered foundations were almost unknown at that time. Trial trenches in the northern part of Sector NGS showed that the layered foundation continued there with a width of about 3.80 m. It crosses the coastal line in an east-west direction towards the natural steep slope and terraced area. The layered foundation and its foundation trench were traced in the western direction where it was revealed that the layers gradually merged and turned into the large yellow clay foundation built in the same foundation trench.8 The discovery of the 3.80 m wide wall foundation obviously testifies to the existence of the defense wall which was the main purpose of our investigations in this area in recent years The result of this work was the uncovering of traces of different architectural features all connected to the large foundation trench, the direct evidence of the existence of a defense wall in the northern part of the Lower City of Olbia. The structures uncovered are a large clay foundation (# 770), a complex of yellow clay foundations (# 773, 774, 775), a ceramic pavement (# 772) and in the north-western part further remains including a wall (# 780), a large pile of rubble (# 781) and traces of a large trench on the western slope in the transition to the terrace area. The large clay foundation (# 770) was rectangular and trapezoidal in form, oriented east-west (Fig. 1). The southern border is defined according to the

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Fig. 2. Large foundation # 770. South view.

northern part of the pottery pavement (# 772) and the complex of yellow clay foundations (# 773, 774, 775). The northern border is delimited by the rubble heap excavated earlier which prevented the uncovering of the original surface of the large clay foundation. The eastern part is inaccessible because of the recent cement construction over the remains of the first centuries AD stove excavated earlier. The western border has not been determined yet. It is obscured by the intermediate border of the trench. According to the results of earlier stratigraphic observations in the eastern part the large clay foundation gradually changes into the large layered foundation (# 757) investigated here in 2005. The uncovered southern edge of the large clay foundation formed a practically straight line. The foundation was located directly under the layer of turf formed here since the excavations of the 1980s-1990s at the height of 10.40‑10.15‑9.96 m over the estuary level dropping towards the east. The area of the foundation surface investigated is 17.40 x 1.30/1.70/2.50 m. The foundation is constructed of a thick layer of very dense and hard light yellow clay soil of clumpy structure similar in hardness to the yellow clay foundation in Sector I9 (Fig. 2). The soil definitely consists of a mixture of bed rock clay and yellow loess, admittedly with an admixture of river sand. The mixture was very hard packed under the pressure of great weight. The structure revealed practically no finds causing a serious problem of dating it. The upper layers of the foundation were significantly damaged by later interferences and distorted by a few heaps of stones excavated here in 1989‑1990. This was the reason for the comparatively small part of the top of the foundation being preserved, especially along the northern border of the cleaned area. However, we argue that the foundation had a relatively flat, horizontal, yellow clay surface. Two notable fissures uncovered in the upper layers of the top of the

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Fig. 3. Complex of foundations # 773, 774, 775. Northern view.

large foundation are of special interest. The fissures, 3.40‑4.20 m long and 0.12‑0.20‑0.26 m wide, run across the foundation. They are bow-shaped curving east towards the estuary coast. The cuts are wedge shaped and filled with dark yellow clay soil eroded from the upper levels. The presence of these fissures is evidence of the considerable pressure created by the massive walls causing the soil to erode towards the estuary. The complex of yellow clay foundations (# 773, 774, 775) consisted of three parallel foundations from east to west. Discovered in 2006 these foundations are situated south of the large foundation (# 770) and almost perpendicular to it (Fig. 3). They are all roughly rectangular with a N-S orientation. Their northern edge was delimited by the large foundation. The southern edge is limited by the intermediate border of the trench. These foundations are found at the height of 10.30‑10.00‑9.50 m over the estuary level dropping towards the east, but stratigraphy shows that the height of their original surface was more even. The discovered length of the foundations are 2.90‑2.93 to 3.62‑3.64 m. The distance between them is 1.92‑2.00 (# 773‑774) and 2.42‑2.60 (# 774‑775) accordingly. They are all made of hard yellow clay 0.42‑0.65 m wide, the average width about 0.50‑0.54 m. The soil is a comparatively homogenous mixture of bed rock clay and yellow loess and did not contain any finds. The nature of the soil and their construction is similar to the neighboring large rampart. Over the south part of foundation # 773 (near the intermediate border) was discovered a small heap of rubble with a N-S orientation. The shape of this heap is roughly rectangular (0.52‑0.66 x 0.60‑0.64 m) following the line of the foundation. The stones are rough without traces of processing. The largest among them measures 0.34‑0.42 x 0.24‑0.28 x 0.08 m. The others are typical rubble of average size for this excavation area. Probably the heap is the remains of the wall built over the foundation or it appeared as a result of the destruction and dismantling of the wall. We consider the three foundations and the large foundation to have con-

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Fig. 4. Ceramic pavement # 772. Western view.

stituted an integral complex as they appeared around the same time and were used during approximately the same period. The parallel foundations represent the substructures of a building constructed directly under the defense wall, perhaps of military function. Unfortunately, the main body of the large yellow clay foundation and the complex of parallel foundations were very poor in artefacts creating a serious problem of their dating. The evidence for dating the building of the defense city wall in the first half (or may be the first decades) of the 3rd century BC are (1) rare finds of the sherds of the Hellenistic period and (2) the fact that the construction of these foundations were cut into the ceramic pavement dated to the 4th century BC. However, to answer the question of the exact date of the building of the defense wall, further excavation and special investigations are needed. The ceramic pavement (# 772) (6.14‑6.47 (E-W) x 2.70‑3.46 (N-S)) was found south of large clay foundation (Fig. 4). Its shape and size is not determined, but it is cut by the large foundation (# 770) and the three parallel foundations (# 773, 774, 775). The other borders are not found and as such they were delimited by the intermediate borders of the trench. The pavement is situated between foundations # 773, 774 and 775 and west of foundation # 773. The pavement consists of flaky, yellow, dark yellow, gray and brown clay soil mixed with many ceramic sherds and sometimes with ash, sand and charcoal. The majority of the sherds were found in the western part of the pavement to the east and west of foundation # 773. The western part contained numerous river shells and sand lying as amorphous layers and lens shaped

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Fig. 5. General plan of northwestern part of Sector NGS.

pockets. The central and eastern parts of the pavement contained fewer sherds but had a considerable density of the hard soil. The majority of the material of the pavement is dated to the 5th and 4th centuries BC consisting mainly of amphorae, table and kitchen wares. The most interesting finds are the remains of a small grey pot and the bottom of red clay vessel with the dark red glaze, the thin part of which was hollowed out in ancient times probably for cult purposes. Infrequently, unworked stones were found in the pavement their size averaging 0.17‑0.12 x 0.15‑0.10 x 0.15‑0.07 m. This kind of pavement is typical for Olbia and especially for the Sector NGS. In the southern part of NGS was found a ceramic pavement in the street dividing blocks VI and VII. The thickness of the pavement was 1.5 m. Thus based on its thickness, the ceramic pavement # 772 could be the remains of a street, which was later destroyed by the building of the defense wall. Yellow clay from the foundation trench of the defense wall covered this pavement in all the excavated area. Accordingly, the presence of the defense wall prevented the occupation of this area after the 4th to the first half of the 3rd century BC. Trial excavations were made for the discovering the continuation of the line of the large yellow clay foundation in the northwestern corner of Sector NGS which is on a steep slope. As a result remains of the lower levels of the

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Fig. 6. Northeast view of wall # 780.

large stone wall of the Hellenistic period were found represented by remains in situ (# 780) and a large heap of rubble (# 781) (Fig. 5). They were located on the slope and covered by the turf and a stratum of dark yellow clay soil eroded from the slope. Wall (# 780) was located north of the rubble core and 4.80 m north-west of the northwestern corner of Sector NGS. Because of the erosion caused by the natural slope, the wall drops towards the estuary to the east and a little to the north towards the northern ravine, the northern border of the Olbian settlement. The wall was cut into the soil of the steep slope at comparatively horizontal levels (Fig. 6). The bottom course formed in a series of steps following the slope. Three levels of the bottom course were uncovered 0.66‑0.96 m from the border of the western trench during the 2006 season. The highest level was found at the height of 14.76‑14.70 m, the lowest at 14.48‑14.32 m over the estuary level. The bottom course consisted of large, approximately rectangular, limestone slabs, roughly worked, their surfaces flat and carelessly smoothed. They were

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Fig. 7. Line incised in the slabs in wall # 780.

all stacked flatly on a layer of marl which could be the bed rock. Almost all the slabs were arranged lengthwise. The size of the slabs was about 0.70‑0.80 x 0.32‑0.40 m. The height of every course is about 0.19‑0.22 m. A straight line was cut into the surface of all the slabs approximately 0.05‑0.12 m from their northern (outside) edge. The line shows the position of the slabs in the next course of the wall (Fig. 7). Generally, the bottom course of foundation walls in Olbia protrudes. The facade of the wall which would have been straight was distorted by the gradual collapse of the wall caused by the natural slope.

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Fig. 8. General view of rubble heap # 781. Southeast view.

The lowest level was the best preserved the uncovered length being 1.68‑1.73 m. The slabs of the lowest level were the largest. They measure 0.89‑0.90 x 0.32‑0.39 m. The slabs were stacked closely, and the space between them usually did not exceed more than 0.01‑0.02 m, but in a few cases as much as 0.04 m. This space was filled with soil similar to the surroundings. In the upper and second levels two of the large slabs were broken and the line of the wall was distorted. The second level consisted of only one large, rough limestone slab. A large heap of rubble (# 781) was located south of wall # 780. The shape was amorphous oriented N-S and the level dropped towards the east to the estuary (Fig. 8). It was uncovered at the height of 15.20‑15.03 to 14.57‑14.48 m over the estuary level. The heap consisted of small, middle, and large size rubble and middle and large size limestone slabs of polygonal shape. The size of the individual rubble stones is 0.28‑0.15‑0.09 x 0.24‑0.07‑0.04 x 0.16‑0.12‑0.03 m. The heap was stratified. In 2006 three strata were excavated. The thickness of the strata was about 0.10‑0.25 m. The space between the rubble was filled with dark yellow clay and ordinary yellow clay soil but few ancient objects. Based on the character, we conclude that the heap was formed as a result of the collapse of the inner part of the defense wall – the rubble core – as the mass of the soil was mixed with stones.

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Fig. 9. Regular stones in rubble heap # 781 and fissure to the north of it. Eastern view.

An interesting discovery was a few large limestone slabs stacked regularly in the rubble core (Fig. 9). These slabs are of polygonal and trapezoidal shape. They are stacked horizontally along the northern edge of the rubble core parallel to the south face of wall # 780. The south side of the stacked slabs was of irregular shape and mixed with stones from the rubble core. Two slabs were found in situ on top of each other in 2006 cut into the natural slope of grey clay (bed rock). The size of the slabs to the north was 0.68‑0.45 x 0.16‑0.12 m, the width 0.34‑0.40 m. Obviously, these slabs were laid down close to the southern edge of wall # 780 in Antiquity. The arrangement of the limestone slabs could be a structural response to the construction of such a major work as the city defense wall.10 However, as a result of the erosion of the outer surface of the wall caused by the natural slope to the north, a large fissure appeared between the slabs of the facing (wall # 780) and rubble core (heap # 781), about 0.46‑0.50 m wide, gradually filling up with congestive soil and fallen down limestone fragments and slabs. South of the large rubble core on the eastern edge of the trench, a channel filled with yellow clumpy clay soil with inclusions of grey clay soil and crushed limestone was cut into the dark grey and ash soil rich in small pieces of charcoal and ash inclusions (Fig. 10). This cut is traced 0.70 m from the

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Fig. 10. Section of the trench of the city wall foundation in the northwestern part of Sector NGS. Eastern view.

large rubble core and 4.30 m from the northern face of wall # 780. This line was definitely the southern border of the trench excavated in ancient time for the building of the defense wall which included wall # 780 and rubble core # 781. However, if we take into consideration the width of the fissure which appeared as the result of the northern face of the wall eroding (about 0.5 m) and exclude this distance, the general width of the ancient foundation trench including wall # 780 and rubble core # 781 and the space in front of the trench edge is about 3.80 m, which is equal to the width of large foundation # 770 and layered foundation # 757 corresponds to the width of the defense wall in the eastern area. An interesting find was an almost intact adult human skull crushed by the stones of the upper levels of the large rubble core # 781. This skull ended up in the heap of rubble core by coincidence already after full decomposition among the rubbish on the slope. Remains of individual human bones are quite common for the northern part of the Sector NGS, but never found in anatomical sequence. E.g. at least six human skulls were found in different layers in 2006 (Fig. 11). One skull was found outside the wall, whereas at least three skulls were unearthed in the yellow clay layer covering the ceramic pavement. One of the skulls had traces of violent death, an oval hole in the coronal bone. Also

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Fig. 11. Human skull found in the northern area of Sector NGS.

found were human bones with traces of dogs picking and biting. However, only the one sample from the rubble core # 781 was found in association with building remains in the defense wall area. Evidently, all the finds of human bones in the cultural strata are the evidence of an ancient battle occurring in the area. After the battle the region was definitely deserted and only reoccupied by new inhabitants much later. The human bones and skulls found in the level which appeared as a result of the construction of the defense wall we surmise came from a battle preceding the building of the wall and they can probably be concerned with the Zopyrion’s siege of the city. The human bones and skulls found in the upper levels of the yellow clay layer and over the remains of the destructed defense wall can be connected either with the ruining of the mentioned Zopyrion strata or with later remains too. The described construction of the defense wall consisted of exterior and interior faces of ashlars and a rubble core filling the space between them, which was quite typical for the Classical Greek tradition of building defense walls. As an example we can mention an interesting analogy of the defense wall in Troy of the Hellenistic period11. This part of the wall was dated to the third quarter of the 3rd century BC and repeated the general scheme of the construction of the wall and in addition repeated the techniques of building as transverse slabs of the outer face and regular stacking of the slabs of the rubble core along the edges of the exterior and interior faces of ashlars12. To sum up, the results of the new excavations show us the general direction of the line of the defense wall of the Hellenistic period in the northern part of the Lower City of Olbia (Fig. 12). It also informs us of constructional aspects of city defenses. The foundation of the city wall constituted of a large straight trench 3.80 m wide filled with the yellow clay foundation which was substituted by the large layered foundation # 757 in eastern coastal part. Analogous remains of yellow clay and layered foundations of the 4th century BC were found in Sector I in the Upper City – the excavation area closest to Sec-

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Fig. 12. View of the general direction and line of the defense wall in the northern part of the Lower City of Olbia. Eastern view.

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Fig. 13. Diagnostic finds in the northern part of the Lower City of Olbia.

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Fig. 13. Diagnostic finds in the northern part of the Lower City of Olbia.

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tor NGS.13 Approximately 50 m of the foundation trench can be reconstructed from sections of the interior face of the foundation. The largest uncovered part of the yellow clay foundation in the central part of Sector NGS is more than 17 m long. The eastern end is delimited by the layered foundation # 757. In the northwestern part of Sector NGS remains of a stone wall (# 780) was excavated. The alignment of this foundation wall was disturbed due to the pressure of the rubble core (heap # 781) and the weight of the wall. On the inside of the defense wall, in the central part of the excavated area remains of buildings were traced by the yellow clay foundations similar to those of the defense wall (complex of parallel foundations # 773, 774, 775). Probably these buildings had a military function concerned with the defense of the city. This city wall was built in the beginning of the 3rd century BC on the cultural strata of the 4th century BC as evidenced by the ceramic pavement # 772 dated no later than the end of the 4th century BC and situated in the central part of the explored area which was cut by the trench of the defense wall foundation. Accordingly, the wall is later than the Zopyrion siege. Based on stratigraphic observations, the defense wall was built at the site of a battle suggested by the numerous finds of human skulls and bones of pre-wall period, admittedly concerned with Zopyrion’s siege. Notes

1 Kryžickij 1985; Bujskich 1991. 2 Kryžickij & Lejpunskaja 1997, 85‑93; Kryžickij et al.1999, 103‑105, 161‑166. 3 Farmakovskij 1926. 4 Kryžickij & Lejpunskaja 1988, 10‑32. 5 Lejpunskaja 2007, 48‑52. 6 Lejpunskaja 2007, 48‑57. 7 A preliminary version of the ideas presented in the paper were provided in a poster at the international conference, the Bosporan Phenomenon, St. Petersburg November 2007. 8 This phenomenon as well as the layered foundation plan and photos were published and described by Lejpunskaja (2006, 250‑252; 2007, 48‑57). 9 Slavin 1941, 294. 10 A similar arrangement of limestone slabs was found in the remains of the heap of rubble to the north of foundation # 770 excavated in 1990s, but the levels of the outer wall were not preserved. 11 Aylward & Wallrodt 2003, 100‑101. 12 Thanks are due to Jens Nieling for turning our attention at this fact and let us have the information concerning these excavations. 13 Slavin 1941, 294.

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Bibliography Aylward, W. & J. Wallrodt 2003. The other walls of Troia: a revised trace for Ilion’s Hellenistic fortifications, Studia Troica, Band 13, Mainz am Rhein. Bujskich, S.B. 1991. Fortifikacija ol’vijskogo gosudarstva (pervye veka našej ery). Kiev. Farmakovskij B.V. 1926. Otčet o raskopkach v Ol’vii v 1925 g. SGAIMK. Kryžickij S.D. 1985. Ol’vija. Istoriografičeskoe issledovanie architekturnostroitel’nych kompleksov. Kiev. Kryžickij, S.D. & N.A. Lejpunskaja 1988. Kompleks zapadnych vorot Ol’vii, Antičnye drevnosti Severnogo Pričernomor’ja, Kiev. Kryžickij, S.D. & N.A. Lejpunskaja 1997. Ol’vija. Raskopki, istorija, kul’tura. Nikolaev. Kryžickij, S.D., Rusjaeva, A.S., Krapivina, V.V., Lejpunskaja, N.A., Skržinskaja, M.V. & V.A. Anochin 1999. Ol’vija. Antičnoe gosudarstvo v Severnom Pričernomor’e. Kiev. Lejpunskaja N.A. 2007. K voprosu ob oboronitel’nych sooruženijach v Nižnem gorode Ol’vii (predvaritel’nye itogi rabot), Bosporskie issledovanija XVII, Simferopol’, 48‑57. Lejpuns’ka N.O. & O.V. Karjaka 2006. Rozkopky na diljanci NGS v Ol’viji v 2005 r., Archeologični doslidžennja v Ukrajini 2004‑2005 rr., Kyiv, Zaporižžja, 250‑252. Slavin L.M. 1941. Ol’vijskie gorodskie kvartaly Severo-Vostočnoj časti Verhnego goroda, Sovetskaja archeologija, VII. 292‑307.

The Demarcation System of the Agricultural Environment of Olbia Pontike Alexander V. Karjaka

The territory of Olbia’s chora is known mainly from the settlements spread along the banks of the Bug, Dnieper, and Berezan’ estuaries. Numerous investigations and expeditions have given us materials of Olbia’s rural settlements, materials which are under the attention of numerous researches and much of which has been published.1 Generally, it is assumed that the agricultural territory corresponds approximately to the extension of the settled area. How far inland the territory of the agricultural cultivation stretched has not been determined. The existence of ancient agricultural plots has been ascertained; however, their system was not established. The main information about the demarcation system of Olbian fields comes from aerial photos. The quality of the aerial photos of the Soviet period is good enough for establishing separate fields as well as their borders, which appear lighter. Based on these resources, the demarcation system and ancient roads closest to Olbia could be partly reconstructed.2 In recent years satellite photos of high resolution made by NASA have become accessible for free on the internet site of Google Earth. This allows us to create a general satellite map of the entire area under consideration. The satellite map reveals how the situation in the Olbian chora area has changed considerably during the last 30 years. With a combination of satellite and aerial photos, which have been reduced to the same scale, stitched together and compared with the modern and earlier situation, it has been possible to observe existing soil anomalies and a number of ancient monuments in the area under consideration. From this it is possible to create the most complete picture of the agricultural territory of the ancient state of Olbia and to reconstruct missing parts where ever it is possible (Fig. 1).3 Thus, we obtain an overall picture of the general territory of the system of field divisions and ancient roads allowing us to determine its configuration and the main scheme of the spreading of fields and roads germane with it, as well as to specify features of the organization and construction of the fields. Unfortunately the remains of the cadastre system of Olbia’s chora is only partly preserved and even the collation of maps, aerial and satellite photos do not provide us with the complete picture of the system of ancient field division. Gaps where the borders of fields have disappeared still exist wherefore it has been necessity to reconstruct parts wherever possible.

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Fig. 1. a – Cadastre system of the b – Olbian chora as evidenced by satellite photos.

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Fig. 2. Samples of ancient field borders in satellite photos.

As can be traced on the aerial and satellite photos, the agricultural territory of the state of Olbia where it was most intensively cultivated is the comparatively narrow area on the right bank of the Bug- and Dnieper-Bug Estuary, from the territory of the modern village Bol’šaja Korenicha, a suburb of Nikolaev to the north to the city of Očakov, to the west and the modern Stanislav Cape to the east. Its size is about 34 km N-S and 52 km E-W. The average width of this area was 6‑7 km from the bank of the estuary. The largest depth inland we find closest to Olbia herself, where it reaches 8.7 km from the bank of the Dnieper-Bug Estuary. To the west this area gradually decreased from 5 to1.5 km and gradually disappeared in the suburbs of modern Očakov. This may be due to the land being exploited to a lesser degree in Antiquity, but it may also be the result of recent human activity in the area. Olbia is located practically in the geometrical center of this field division system possibly in order to achieve a comfortable distance to the controllable territory which was about 25‑26 km in both directions as the crows fly. Also revealed is the territory along the Black Sea coast to the west of the Berezan’ Estuary and the Island of Berezan’ which was spatially separated

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from the main territory of field divisions of Olbia at a distance of no less then 15 km. Its maximum size is 10 km E-W and 4 km N-S, so the overall width of Olbia’s territory including the area around the Berezan’ Estuary is about 77 km E-W. The system of field divisions in the Olbian chora is represented by light, narrow lines which formed the borders of the ancient fields visible from a high altitude on the surface of modern fields (Fig. 2). These lines are practically invisible from the surface because of the large scale. In general the width of the lines is even and within the limits of 10‑18 m, but the average width is about 14‑16 m. Occasionally, the light lines of the demarcation system are accompanied by two parallel, narrow darker lines (usually darker than the field itself) of a width of 6‑8 m. These narrow, darker lines are located close to the light lines and usually present on both sides of these, but sometimes they are single. The areas of the ancient fields are dark. They are usually represented as narrow, elongated areas as a rule oriented across the slope towards the estuary bank and across the ancient roads on the map. The width of the fields is different ranging from 40 to 260 m, but the average size was about 60‑70 m, a width of fields found almost everywhere in the territory under consideration. The determination of the length of the individual fields is difficult, because the locations of the crossing border line cannot be found resulting in fields that appear to be hundreds of meters and even kilometers long. The best preserved territory where the borders between the ancient fields remain most visible is the territory closest to Olbia (Fig. 3). Running in an east and south-east direction, this territory is limited by the large Adžigol’ Ravine. It was about 6.5‑8.5  km wide E-W to 9.5‑10.4  km (maximum 11.35  km) SE which would be a comfortable distance for a day’s walk back and forth from the city. The northern border is as far as 12.6‑13.7 km from Olbia. Few ancient roads are revealed in this area. The first one has been traced in its entire distance. This road starts at the Western Gate of Olbia running 11.35 km SW to the bench of the cape between the Adžigol’’ and Dnieper-Bug estuaries. The second more minor road joins the first road 4.2 km from Olbia running along the ravine from the southern edge of the settlement of Olbia. The third large road is traced in the northern part of the chora nearest to Olbia. It runs NE-SW and can be traced for a distance of 6.6 km. By its direction it is obvious that this road connected the northern regions with the outspring of the Adžigol’ Ravine and the rural settlements located in and along this valley. The ancient fields in the territory closest to Olbia were definitely arranged according to the natural relief of the area across the slopes for easy drain of water from the fields and connected by the roads described above. The main lines of the fields cross the roads which in this area were mainly running along the estuary benches. The fields filled the space between the roads which is best represented in the area closest to Olbia. This fact suggests that at least

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Fig. 3. Cadastre system in the chora closest to Olbia.

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Fig. 4. Western part of demarcation system of the Olbian chora.

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the described roads preceded the appearance of the fields in this area and that they were used when the fields were worked. Additionally in the area closest to Olbia there are a few places with fields of less elongated proportions. The demarcation systems further west (Fig.  4), north (Fig.  5) and east (Fig. 6) reveal the same system of narrow fields and lines of demarcation as in the area closer to Olbia. In the western part the maximum distance of the fields from the estuary bank is about 8.1 km, but the distance gradually decrease to 1.5 km towards the west. The northern part of Olbia’s cadastre sys-

 

Fig. 5. Northern part of demarcation system of the Olbian chora.

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T

 

F

I

tem is poorly preserved and few divisions are visible. t is interesting to note that in the very northern part of this region, the remains of the demarcation lines show the most regular arrangement with clear and rhythmic borders of the fields ( ig. 5). his indicates that the field division system in this area was created during a more or less short period of time and from a on before-

 

Fig. 6. Eastern part of demarcation system of the Olbian chora.

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hand considered design. The cadastre system in the other areas seems more irregular and spontaneous when compared with the northern one. The very eastern part of the field division system of the Olbian chora is poorly preserved (Fig. 6). Here we see the general contours of the distribution of fields on the opposite side of Bug Estuary 12 km SE from Olbia and in the southern part of the cape between Bug and the Dneper-Bug estuaries at a distance of 14.7 km (E-W) and maximum 5.3 km from the bench inland. In the far western part of the Olbian chora west of the Berezan’ Estuary, two areas of field divisions are found (Fig.  7). This is the region furthest

 

Fig. 7. Berezan’ area demarcation system of the Olbian chora.

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Fig. 8. Correlation of the demarcation lines of ancient fields and ravines. a) south close to Olbia; b) Berezan’ area.

away from Olbia, and it seems self-dependent and isolated. Additionally in contrast to the ordinary field division of the very western sector, its eastern sector appears to be the most irregular and spontaneous of all other Olbian chora areas. The shape of its southern fields looks quite irregular and do not have the elongated proportions of the field lines usually found in the other Olbian chora areas. This sector is the closest to the Island of Berezan’ where is one of the earliest Greek settlements in the Northern Black Sea littoral. This suggests that the area could belong to a chora of Berezan’, and thus could be the earliest sector of ancient cadastre system in Black Sea littoral area. On the other hand, the western sector of the Berezan’s area has a more regular character although there are traces of displacement of field lines to prevent the erosion. The correlation of the direction of demarcation lines of ancient fields and the small ravines in the steep banks which they cut across is interesting. This is well represented in the area 2.40‑5.27  km to the south of Olbia (Fig. 8a). Here even the transversal line which could be the limit of the area of fields was found. An analogous situation is found in the far western chora northwest of Berezan’ (Fig. 8b). This correlation could be the evidence of original trenches which formed the ancient field borders with the purpose of draining superfluous water from the surface. Analogous trenches of field borders have already been found in Crimea.4 In a few places the cadastre system seems to have been changed. The most evident example of this is the large area approximately 17 km to the north of Olbia and the most remote western sector near the Tiligul’ Estuary where the cadastre system was changed in Antiquity. Field boundaries were moved to stop the erosion of the surface which appeared, but the general system was

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Fig. 9. Samples of replanning of the ancient cadastre system. a) displacement of field division lines with the the old demarcation lines still visible; b) full replanning of demarc ation system.

saved (Fig. 9a). Also east of the Adžigol’ Estuary there was evidence for a full replanning of the cadastre system (Fig. 9b). This could only have happened in case of a complete disappearance of the previous demarcation system. To sum up, the system of demarcation of ancient fields in Olbian and Berezan’ chora can be characterized as a grid system. It consists of comparatively narrow, elongated fields cutting across ancient roads and often curved according to the natural relief and probably practical purposes. The system was developed and used for a long period of time, the Greek and Roman periods of the state of Olbia, which is confirmed by the examples of replanning of the cadastre system. Admittedly, the development of the Olbian cadastre was spontaneous at certain stages in the historical process confirmed by certain irregularities of the field lines in different places. This caused the cluster arrangement of separate parts of the cadastre system. Rectangular demarcation lines can be seen in the very northern part of the Olbian chora near the modern village Bol’šaja Korenicha and ancient settlement Didova Chata only. The general picture of the Olbian cadastre system is comparatively well preserved. The demarcation system is absolutely different in its internal organization when compared with the well-known field division system of Chersonessos, which had a strict rectangular structure.5 The Olbian system is much closer to the field divisions on the Taman’ Peninsula.6 We have to underline that the above description of the cadastre system of the Olbian chora is the result of reconstructing the demarcation lines of the ancient fields on the basis of satellite and aerial photos. We cannot exclude the possibility that more detailed information may turn up or even of finding new field division areas in the future based on new archaeological, geophysical and other investigations.

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Notes 1 Krizhitskij & Bujskich 1989. 2 Bujskich 1986, 2006. 3 Many thanks are due to the Danish National Research Foundation’s Centre for Black Sea Studies for the accordance of aerial photos and help with preparation of these materials. 4 Kolesnikov & Jacenko 1999, fig. 14, 307-308. 5 Nikolaenko 1999; 2001; 2006. 6 Paromov 1990; 1992; 2000. Gorlov & Lopanov 1995, 121-137.

Bibliography Bujskich, S.B. 1986. Nekotorye voprosy prostranstvenno-strukturnogo razvitija Ol’vijskoj chory (VI-II vv. Do n.e.), in: A.S. Rusjaeva, S.D. Križickij & S.N. Mazarati, Ol’vija i ee okruga, Kiev, 17‑28. Bujskich, S.B. 2006. Die chora des pontischen Olbia: Die Hauptetappen der räumlich-strukturellen Entwicklung, in: Guldager Bilde & Stolba (eds.) 2006, 115‑139. Gorlov, Ju.V. & Ju.A. Lopanov 1995. Drevnejšaja sistema melioracii na Tamanskom poluostrove, VDI 3, 121‑137. Guldager Bilde, P. & V.F. Stolba (eds.) 2006. Surveying the Greek Chora, Black Sea region in a Comparative perspective (BSS 5). Aarhus. Kolesnikov, A.D & I.V. Jacenko. 1999. Le territoire agricole de Chersonèsos Taurique dans la region de Kerkinitis, Territoires des cites grecques. Actes de la Table Ronde Internationale, organisée par l’École Française s’Athènes 31 octobre-3 novembre 1991 (BCH, supplement 34), 289‑321. Križickij, S.D. & S.B. Bujskich, A.V.Burakov, V.M. Otreško. 1989. Sel’skaja okruga Ol’vii. Kiev. Nikolaenko, G.M. 1999. Chora Chersonesa Tavričeskogo. Zemel’nyj kadastr IV-III vv. do n.e. Čast’ I. Sevastopol’. Nikolaenko, G.M. 2001. Chora Chersonesa Tavričeskogo. Zemel’nyj kadastr IV-III vv. do n.e. Čast’ II. Sevastopol’. Nikolaenko, G.M. 2006. The Chora of Tauric Chersonesos and the Cadastre of 4th-2nd century BC, in: Guldager Bilde & Stolba (eds.) 2006, 151‑174. Paromov, Ja.M. 1990. Principy izučenija evoljucii sistemy rasselenija na Tamanskom poluostrove v antičnoe I srednevekovoe vremja, Drevnie pamjatniki Kubani. Krasnodar, 56‑69. Paromov, Ja.M. 1992. Očerk istorii archeologo-topografičeskogo issledovanija Tamanskogo poluostrova, Bosporskij sbornik 1, Moskva, 109‑146. Paromov, Ja.M. 2000. O zemel’nych nadelach antičnogo vremeni na Tamanskom poluostrove, Archeologičeskie vesti 7, St. Petersburg, 309‑319.

The First Results of the Archaeological Surveys Near Cape Čauda and Lake Kačik on the Kerch Peninsula Alexander V. Gavrilov

The southwestern part of the Kerch Peninsula (the area reaching from Cape Čauda as far as Mt Opuk and the eastern shore of the Gulf of Feodosija) has remained as yet the most poorly investigated region of the Bosporan Kingdom.1 Because of its natural geographic conditions this area of the peninsula has until recently been considered the least favourable for ancient habitation.2 Nevertheless, aerial photos and mapping have showed traces of ancient landdivision here. These are still awaiting study and the identification of their relation to and position in the land-owning systems of the ancient poleis of the European Bosporos.3 In 2005, a series of graves from the 1st-4th centuries AD was excavated on Cape Čauda by employees of the Crimean Branch of the Institute of Archaeology, NAS of Ukraine. These burials belonged to the necropolis of a settlement located nearby.4 In December 2006, the author of this paper ­conducted archaeological surveys in the vicinity of Cape Čauda and Lake Kačik. The results of this reconnaissance expedition are published here.

 

 

Fig. 1. Map of Cape Čauda and its surroundings. 1: settlement of the Classical period on Cape Karangat. Scale 1:1 km.

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Cape Čauda is the easternmost point of the Gulf of Feodosija enclosing it to the east (the bearings of the cape and the site identified by a “Garmin” GPS 45 device are N 45˚ 00137 # E 35˚ 49535). It is situated in a direct line 35 km east from Cape Il’ja which forms the westernmost point of the gulf (Fig. 1). Cape Čauda’s height is 25‑30 m. The limestone-shellrock deposits of the Čauda marine terrace, which are among the key reference points in the geomorphology of the Crimea, cover a rather small peninsula ending in a cape (Fig. 1). These deposits stretch three kilometres east to west and one kilometre north to south. The cape’s surface is smooth; the shores west of it are composed of aleurites and clays subjected to sea abrasion with the velocity amounting sometimes to 0.5‑1.0 m per year. This area of the coast (to the west of the cape) is divided by a number of large ravines, the deepest with a depth of 10‑12 m. The shores east of the cape have not been so significantly eroded, since their soft rocks are bedded on limestone-shellrock and grey waterproof clays. Cape Čauda itself has also suffered from erosion and is composed partly of layers of the lower quaternary yellowish-grey limestone-shellrock which lie at a depth of 1.0‑5.0 m. The shore near Cape Čauda is not protected against erosion and its entire length is covered by landslides 100‑150 m in length and up to 10 m thick. To the east of the cape, along the line of the cliffs, 10 m from their edge, deep fissures and subsiding of the soil are everywhere observable. These are produced by subterranean waters flowing on the surface of the rock shield and eroding the lower clay layers. Furthermore, the existence of fifty-year-old buildings, which have already been destroyed by the landslides or stand on the very edge of the shore cliffs, suggest that the destruction of the shores has been greatly intensified in the second half of the 20th century. A considerable area of the cape (and correspondingly of the archaeological site) broke off and collapsed into the sea in winter 2004 (Fig. 2). Landslides and erosion have destroyed most of the ancient site, the average minimum speed of the annual erosion of the cliff amounting here to at least 0.03‑0.04 m or 0.2‑0.3 m3 per running metre. The landslides have cut off not less than 100 m of the plateau close to Cape Čauda itself. In the cross section of one of the landslides (60 m south-east of the cape), some intact traces of depressions left by wooden beams are preserved while in the sea similar traces on rocky blocks broken off the cliff can be observed. Most probably these beams belonged to awnings or certain other structures of the Medieval period (Fig. 3), suggesting that some of the landslides occurred during the last 1500‑1000 years, i.e. at the final stage of the Nymphaian transgression. Moreover, from the beginning of the Classical period, erosion has destroyed at least 50‑100 m of the cape’s shore as suggested by ranges of lumps of eroded landslide deposits on the sea bottom near the shores of the cape. Still the cape itself has not been entirely annihilated by landslides and erosion, if only because the landslides have moved large limestone-shellrock blocks towards the shore line. These form a kind of barrier which breaks the surge and restrains the erosion of the shore. Nonetheless, a considerable section of the settlement-site and its necropolis has

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Fig. 2. Cape Čauda shore.

already been obliterated by the sea. We are thus justified in supposing that in Greek times the coastline and Cape Čauda had a somewhat different configuration. The formation of what is now Cape Čauda and Majačnaja Bay (west of the cape) took place due to the rapid erosion of the shore built of fairly soft rocks. That process started probably during the period of the Nymphaian transgression when the sea level came close to the rocks causing active destruction. This process has continued until now although it slowed during the Korsun’ regression which took place in the early Medieval period. Subterranean waters accumulated in water-permeable sands and aleurites bedded on the waterproof Majkop clays accompany the entire area of deposits found on the Čauda marine terrace. This water-bearing level is supplied mainly by rain and melting snow which infiltrate through the porous lime-

 

Fig. 3. Intact traces of wooden beams at Cape Čauda.

 

Fig. 4. Ancient well at Majačnaja Bay.

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Fig. 5. Still functioning ancient well at Majačnaja Bay.  

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stone-shellrocks of the Čauda terrace, but also by other forms of condensation. On the plateau of Cape Čauda, within a fairly small area on its northern side there are four ancient wells, 5‑7 m deep, cut in the Čauda limestone-shellrock down to the water-bearing level of the sands and aleurites. The first well is 130 m from the shore of Majačnaja Bay in an artificial crater on the bottom of an ancient quarry in the western part of the plateau. Its visible depth is 2 m, while its mouth is at the height of 22 m above the sea level (Fig. 4). The second well is located near the household block of the Čauda Lighthouse, 150 m from the shore of Majačnaja Bay, 24 m above the sea level (N 45˚ 00217 # E 35˚ 50074). This well functions even today (Fig. 5). The third well was found just under the edge of a soil deposit which had collapsed in a landslide. It was situated 100 m from the sea on the eastern slope of the bay. The well was without water because of the aforementioned landslide, which took place in 2004. The fourth well is situated 200 m from the seashore, on top of the plateau between the bay and lighthouse precincts (24.5 m above the sea level). It was reconstructed in fairly recent times, but is now obstructed and used only for watering cattle (N 45˚ 00206 # E 35˚ 50066) (Fig. 6). All of the wells have the pear-shaped form characteristic of water-collecting reservoirs. Three have circular mouths while the fourth has a rectangular one. The shafts of the wells are cut directly in the rock. Throughout the south-western plain of the Kerch Peninsula, between Theodosia and Kimmerikon, such favourable hydro-geological conditions are found only on Cape Čauda and Cape Karangat (Fig. 1). Because of this, as well as the availability of arable lands, the region was occupied and settlements founded here in the Classical period. The preserved cultural layers of the settlement on Cape Čauda are found 20‑30 m above the sea level and stretch from the cape along the shoreline from the northeast to the southeast. The thickness of the archaeological cultural layer here is not great with an average of only 0.50 m. This is due to the fact that the

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Fig. 7. Remains of Classical and early Medieval structures.  

 

Fig. 6. Recently reconstructed ancient well at Majačnaja Bay.

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rocks underlying it are fairly close to the modern surface. Most of the cape proper is covered with outcrops of bedrock, and therefore the cultural layer is preserved here only fragmentarily, mainly in micro-depressions. A considerable part of the cultural layer has washed down the slope, and secondary deposits thereof up to 1.50 m thick can be found, having accumulated below the precipices in waterside depressions. On the modern surface of the plateau, 50 m southwest of the lighthouse, the remains of some structures of the Classical and early Medieval periods are preserved. Amidst these ruins, fragments of amphorae of the 4th century BC have been found. The collapsed stonework is partly covered by building remains from the second half of the 19th century (Fig. 7). In total, the area containing surface finds, on the shores of Majačnaja Bay north-west from the cape itself, does not exceed 350 m in length. To the east, the boundary of the distribution of surface finds lies 400 m from the cape. On the western side of the cape, the vast remains of an ancient quarry are traceable (Fig. 8). The surface materials collected on the cape are divided into three chronological groups: finds from the Hellenistic period, those dated to the first centuries of our era and those from the early Medieval period. The earliest group of finds includes fragmentary amphorae from Herakleia, Sinope, Chios, Knidos, the so-called “Pantikapaian” amphorae, as well as fragments of louteria and fish-plates. Occasionally, rare fragments of black-glazed ware are to be found. Most of these finds come from thick deposits of eroded cultural layer on the very cape itself. A few examples, however, have also been found at the western edge of the plateau (the shore of Majačnaja Bay). The second group of finds is represented by fragments of amphorae from the end of the 1st century BC and the 1st century AD. This group includes pseudo-Rhodian amphorae of light clay, some with pointed bases and profiled handles: types C-II and C-III according to S.Ju. Vnukov,5 and types A and C according to D.B. Šelov (mid-1st century BC to first third of the 1st century AD; Šelov 1978), including handles of light-clay and narrow-necked ampho-

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Fig. 8. Ancient quarry.

rae of the 1st century AD. Of particular interest are fragments of amphorae of the following types: beak-shaped rims, pink clay, broad neck (late 2nd to first half of the 3rd century AD); type Delakeu, and amphorae of light clay which are identified as type F according to D.B. Šelov (second half of the 2nd to 4th century AD; Šelov 1978). Noteworthy amongst the fragments of tableware are red-glazed plates and jugs of the same period. The group under consideration has generally been found on the plateau of the cape itself and on the cliff on its western shore. The third group of finds has come mostly from the area south of the lighthouse precincts, on the cape itself and from the area on the shore of the bay, 200 m south-west from the lighthouse. These finds are represented by relatively numerous fragments of the Black-Sea/Pontic? ribbed amphorae of the 8th to mid-10th century AD, walls of amphorae with fine grooves on the body (8th to 11th century), and walls of wheel-made grey-ware pots belonging to the Saltovo-Majatskaja culture (8th to 10th century AD). Fragments of Medieval red clay, green-glazed ware with graffiti (14th-15th century AD) also occur. V.F. Gajdukevič supposed that the salty Lake Kačik nearby (5.5 km to the east and northeast of Cape Čauda) was originally a gulf, on the shores of which the settlement of Kazeka was situated during the Classical period.6 In the second half of the 1st millennium BC, when the so-called Phanagorian Regression took place, there was probably a vast lowland and a ravine on the site of the lake. Assuming that the lakes of Kojaš, Uzunlar and Kačik have a similar morphology, the formation of a shallow gulf on the site of Lake Kačik must have taken place in the first half and the middle of the 1st millennium AD. At present, the lake is a fairly shallow reservoir separated from the sea by a narrow barrier and replenished by precipitation and sea-water during storms. According to the evidence of Arrian in his Periplous of Pontos Euxeinos (2nd century AD) and in the Periplous of an anonymous author, allegedly Ps.-Arrian (4th-5th century AD), (Arr. P.P.Eux. 30; Anon. Peripl.P.Eux. 76), there may have

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Fig. 9. Ribbed limestone rollers for threshing grain.

been a settlement (κώμε) at Kazeka near the eastern extremity of the Gulf of Feodosija on Cape Čauda in the 2nd century AD.7 Arrian reports that the “small town” of Kazeka “lying near the sea” was situated 420 stadia from Pantikapaion in the direction of Theodosia (Arr. P.P.Eux. 30), whereas the anonymous author of the Periplous of the Pontos defines the distance between ancient Kazeka and ancient Kimmerikon as equal to 180 stadia or 24 miles (Anon. Peripl.P.Eux. 76). The author further adds that from Kazeka to the abandoned city of Theodosia there were 280 stadia or 37 1/3 Roman miles. According to M.V. Agbunov’s studies, the works of these authors both use the stade of Eratosthenes which is equal to 157.7 m. The anonymous author, moreover, supplements his use of that stade by later converting it into Roman miles (1481 m), although he uses an incorrect ratio of the stade to the mile.8 The distances between Pantikapaion and Kazeka, Kimmerikon and Kazeka, and Theodosia and Kazeka thus must have been about 66, 28 and 44 km respectively. The most exact distances given are those between Cape Čauda, Kimmerikon and Theodosia which along the shore line amount respectively to 27.5 and 42 km. At the same time, the distance from Pantikapaion indicates a location close to Lake Kačik. Since the coastline between Kazeka and Kimmerikon and that between Kazeka and Theodosia are fairly straight (contrary to that near the capes of Takil’ and Kamyš-Burun) the distances between the above points are reported quite exactly. The discrepancy of slightly more than 4 km from the real distance between Cape Čauda and Mt Mithridates does not seem very problematic either. During the reconnaissance of 2003, on the small cape of Karangat, at the site of what was recently a frontier post, a settlement of the Classical period was found.9 In the talus on the shore, fragments of the so-called two-barrelled handles of light-clay amphorae (1st century BC until 1st century AD) were found.10 In addition, there seems to have been a late Medieval settlement here as is suggested by a well in the ravine. The mouth of the well was covered over with a limestone slab with an aperture. This well was probably replenished

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by subsoil waters in the same way as similar wells on Cape Čauda. It is clear that erosion has destroyed most of the late Medieval as well as the ancient settlement. During the surveys at the southern foot of Mt Djurmen at the ruins of the former Tartar village Djurmen (or “Mill”, abandoned in 1944) north of Cape Karangat, numerous fragments of Herakleian and Sinopean amphorae of the 4th century BC were found. This suggests that the territory was occupied in the Classical period (Fig. 1). Moreover, the remains of a number of old wells are preserved here, indicating a relatively good water-supply for the locality. In addition, it is noteworthy that, ribbed limestone rollers for threshing grain have been found in what is believed to be ancient courtyards (Fig. 9). All this attests to the notion that the local population was occupied with agriculture until the first half of the 20th century and that the local soils were suitable for growing grain. The settlement of Djurmen proper occupied a considerable area. It emerged only fairly recently in the 17th or 18th century as may be judged from the surface finds. The remains of the stone foundations of houses are preserved as is the village’s cemetery in which limestone turban-shaped gravestones are distinguishable. Of special note are the foundations of the houses: they are rectangular, extending east-west along the longer axis with a width of slightly over 3 m; as well they are divided into three parts with the entrance and courtyard facing south. The walls were constructed from mud-bricks; the roofs must have been made of clay or straw since no tiles are to be found on the surface. This technique of house-building is very old and has, to some extent, local roots. To the west of the village, closer to Lake Kačik, traces of ancient land-division in the form of undistinguished small earthen banks are preserved throughout a fairly large area (Fig. 10). These run from north to south or from the coast towards the southern foot of Mt Djurmen. The division boundaries are preserved since no intensive fieldwork or land-improvement have been carried out here in the last sixty years. It is noteworthy that today the soils around Lake Kačik are extremely saline and mostly suitable only for pasturing. A similar situation was also observed on the site of the former Tartar settlement of Kačik not far from the western bank of Lake Kačik. Amongst materials of modern times, numerous fragments of Herakleian and Sinopean amphorae of the 4th century BC were found here as well. It is quite possible that other Tartar settlements in the region (which are fairly numerous judging by maps of the 19th century) will likewise yield ancient materials in the future. This would not be surprising since the localities once occupied because of their propitious situation, the availability of fresh water, soils and easy means of communication were repeatedly chosen for habitation by newcomers. A similar picture is observed at many sites in the Crimean Peninsula. Not far from what is now Lake Kačik, at a point where a number of small ravines run into the lake, two ancient settlement-sites (or farms) have been discovered. One of these, Kačik-1, was situated on the level left bank of a ra-

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Fig. 10. Traces of ancient land divisions near Lake Kačik.

vine. Here, a pond was constructed by means of a dam; possibly this hydroengineering structure goes as far back as the Classical period. In micro-relief it is distinguishable because of its low elevation and an accumulation of limestone rubble. Found on its surface are fragments of red-clay and black-glazed ware, handmade pottery, and Herakleian, Sinopean and Mendean amphorae of the 4th century BC. Even a Pantikapaian tetrachalcon of the type “bearded satyr/griffin, sturgeon, ΠΑΝ” of the last quarter of the 4th century BC has been found here (Fig. 11).11 The area of the settlement-site, amounting to about 80 x 50 m, is covered with turf. Also traceable on the surface of the steppe nearby are low earthen banks which could be the remains of land-division boundaries. Their direction is E-NE to W-NW. The second settlement-site, Kačik-2, was situated on the left slope of another ravine in which a pond was also constructed. A destroyed farming tractor station was located nearby. The remains of the settlement are in no way distinguishable in the micro-relief; only ashy spots, discernible because different varieties of plants grow on them, suggest that there had once been some structures here. The dimensions of the site are 150 x 100 m. Limestone rubble is rare, but fragments of handmade pottery and amphorae from the 4th century BC from Herakleia and Sinope are occasionally found on the surface. In addition, a number of Pantikapaian tetrachalcons of the type “bearded satyr/ griffin, sturgeon, ΠΑΝ” of the last quarter of the 4th and early 3rd century BC and “young satyr/lion, sturgeon, ΠΑΝ”12 have been collected on this spot. On the eastern bank of Lake Kačik, a Bronze Age site has also been revealed with fragments of handmade pottery and flint flakes being discovered there; in addition, a broken flint point has also been found here. The vicinity of Cape Čauda is flat country with occasional hills, an inexpressive net of ravines and temporary lakes. The most elevated points near Cape Čauda are the heights of Akbulat-Oba (51.8 m) and Ochči-Oba (43.4 m), the lowest level is Lake Kara-Kol’ (uročišče of Belobrodskoe). Predominant

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Fig. 11. Pottery from the surface of Kačik-1.

here are saline chernozems deposited on Sarmatian and Majkop clays. The area under consideration has been subjected to almost no anthropogenic influence and is now covered by various steppe weeds among which feather grass, wormwood and fescue-grass are predominant. In the kols, the grass is rich, dense and stable growing to between one and two meters in height. The ravines all flow into the Gulf of Feodosija and Lake Kačik, the water in them being fed mostly by rain and melting water. The local population traditionally has used these ravines as water sources constructing dams in them which allowed the accumulation of a supply of water for the summer period. Such dams are still preserved in many of the ravines, and late Medieval settlements are frequently found nearby. During the arid periods of the year this system of water storage has proved its worth especially considering the lack of local water resources. The subterranean water is salty. It lies at a depth of 30‑40 m and can be reached by digging wells, mostly in the talwegs of ravines and lowlands. During the investigation of the eastern parts of the coast of the Gulf of Feodosija, traces of ancient settlements at the mouths of some ravines were revealed in the sea. The active erosion of the coast has destroyed most of this area. The remains, however, give us reason to suppose the existence of a definite settlement structure here. In this region the following archaeological sites have been revealed: No. 1. On the right side of a small ravine, at the place where it runs into the sea, accumulations of amphora fragments from the 4th century BC and small pieces of limestone rubble have been found within an area of about 100 x 70 m. It is clear that some settlement or a farm was once situated here in the Classical period.

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No. 2. On the left side of a small ravine, at the place where it runs into the sea, similar accumulations of amphora fragments from the 4th century BC and small pieces of limestone rubble have been found within an area of about 70 x 70 m. The thick grass hid the features of the micro-relief and of the upper section of the cultural layer making the details of the site unclear. Undoubtedly, there was a farmhouse from the Classical period here. On the same side of the ravine, the remains of land-demarcation around the farmhouse were discernible. These were small earthen banks directed ESE-W-NW and N-NE-S-SW. Their height was 0.3‑0.4 m, and their width 1.3‑1.5 m. and they were marked by a different type of steppe plant growing on their surface. In the ravine, a pond with an earthen dam was constructed. It was supplied by rain waters. At the junction of the ravine and the sea (below the farmhouse described) an ancient coin was found by a serviceman. According to descriptions available to us it was quite possibly a Chersonesean stater from the second quarter of the 1st century AD.13 No. 3. On the southern bank of Lake Kara-Kol’ (uročišče of Belobrodskoe) an ancient settlement-site with materials from the 4th century BC has been revealed. The lake is dried out and covered with tall, thick grass which is difficult to traverse. The settlement-site extends along the lake bank from NE to SW. Its approximate dimensions judging by the distribution of surface finds are 80 m from east to west and 50 m from north to south. Found within this area are fragmentary amphorae and handmade pottery, lever querns made from the greenish Karadag trass and small fragments of limestone rubble, evidently from ancient structures; the surface itself is covered with turf. No. 4. In the same place, on the northern slopes of the watershed pointing towards Lake Kara-Kol’, traces of ancient land-divisions have been revealed. These are low earthen banks running E-SE to W-NW. The height of these banks is 0.3‑0.4  m, their width 3.5‑4.0  m; the interval between them is 60‑75 m. At the side of some banks shallow grooves formed during the digging of the soil have been traced. They are relatively easy to distinguish on the surface of the steppe, and are occasionally overgrown with different plants than the monotonous steppe grass which otherwise covers the area. No. 5. On the north-western bank of Lake Kara-Kol’ the remains of what was a large Tartar village, Sarylar (abandoned after 1944), is to be found and quite possibly materials from the Greek period will be discovered here. The rich vegetation has not allowed us to investigate the surface of this site in detail. No. 6. Deposits of amphora and handmade fragments from the 4th century BC and small pieces of limestone rubble are to be noted 0.3‑0.6 km SE of the heights of Ochči-Oba. A detailed investigation of the surface of this site is complicated by the dense vegetation. No. 7. During the Classical period there were probably some discrete field

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structures here as suggested by the fact that in the lowland (1.0 km NE from the site) traces of vineyard field-divisions have been revealed. These are low earthen banks 1.0‑1.5 m wide and 0.2‑0.3 m high with an interval of 1.8‑2.3 m between them; their direction runs N/NW-S/SE. The lowland named is protected from cold winds on almost all sides; it has unusually warm temperatures and was evidently particularly suitable for growing vines. The net of ravines within the lowland runs into Lake Kačik; the water flows via these ravines only at the times when snow is melting and in the rainy seasons. No. 8. Small deposits of fragmentary amphorae from the 4th century BC and small fragments of limestone rubble can be noted on the top of the watershed between the heights 37.9 and 43.4 m (Ochči-Oba). Possibly some light structures stood there in the Classical period. Meanwhile, fragments of amphorae occur throughout the entire territory north of Cape Čauda; in particular a Sinopean stamp of the magistrate Kallisthenos on a handle has been found there. The stamp is dated to the 270s BC.14 These finds probably belonged to a large Greek settlement (Kazeka) on Cape Čauda and they suggest intensive agricultural use of the demarcated areas. East and northeast of Cape Čauda, directly outside the area of the settlement, on the turf-covered steppe surface, a poorly articulated, small earthen bank (0.4 m high and ca. 5.2 m wide) is discernible. It runs in an E-NE direction, between the shore and the asphalt highway (which connects the lighthouse and the military unit). Probably, the bank is the remains of an ancient land-demarcation system which started directly outside the settlement of the Classical period. In one spot (290 m SW of the Cape Čauda lighthouse) a section of that bank was investigated. It showed that the bank was constructed with a heap of chernozem on the ancient surface. Fine fragments of handmade and wheel-made pottery found in the bank yielded nothing to help in establishing the chronology of the structure investigated. Similar earthen banks have been revealed in the coastal zone between Cape Čauda and Lake Kačik. Here, they are better preserved, higher, and more densely arranged, oriented transversely to the coast from south to north. In the steppe further inland, surface traces of these banks are lost, probably ploughed up by inhabitants of the settlement of Kačik in the late Middle Ages. In the same locality slightly inland, a number of stonework structures have been found on the surface of the steppe. Some of these are fairly long, ranged along the axes east-west and north-south. The others are oval in plan. Their purpose and date are so far unclear and demand further investigation. The creation of the cadastral land system over so vast a space was due to a number of reasons: the inequality of the land-plots in terms of their fertility, the development of a certain system of crop rotation, the ease of counting the sown and grown crops for proper taxation etc. A number of questions remain unanswered. Who created the cadastre and when, how long did it exist, to

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which ancient centre did it belong, what was the total number of land plots demarcated, among whom were they distributed and who farmed them, in what way did their owners maintain the demarcations and what crops were grown here? The answers to these questions must so far remain only hypothetical. Relatively exact information can be yielded only by means of further field explorations and excavations. Was the land cadastre in any way connected with Theodosia of the Classical period? It is doubtful. More probably it was associated with the Bosporos. No early materials (5th century BC) have been revealed here while by the 4th century BC, after the Bosporo-Theodosian war, this territory was already part of the Bosporan Kingdom. Only such a powerful and centralized state as Bosporos in that period could have been able to carry out so large-scale and expensive work with such a definite purpose. It is tempting to discern in this cadastre the activities of King Eumelos aimed at the development of the region of Psoa for exiled Kallatians,15 particularly as the first few available finds indicate the late 4th-early 3rd century BC. We must avoid, however, as yet any definite conclusions as these must await detailed investigations. The name of the area mentioned above suggests rather the Asiatic part of the Bosporos where similar appellations are more common both for the people’s resident there and for geographic locations. Thus, the visual investigations of the coastal zone of the Kerch Peninsula from Cape Karangat to Cape Čauda and that of the eastern part of the Gulf of Feodosija, as well as of the more inland areas of the virgin steppe, have shown the existence here of the remains of a settlement structure and traces of land demarcations from the Classical period. These objects demand further more detailed study which will be of help in elucidating certain moments of the history of Bosporos and ancient Theodosia. These studies are also important for our understanding of the systems of both ancient and modern land tenure and for the science of ancient soils and paleoclimatology. Notes 1 See Kruglikova 1975, 254, fig. 101. 2 Šelov-Kovedjaev 1985, 38‑40. 3 Smekalova 2006, 393, 397; Maslennikov & Smekalov 2005, 290; Smekalova, Maslennikov & Smekalov 2005, 83; Smekalova & Smekalov 2006, 216. 4 Gavrilov et al. 2006, 144. 5 Vnukov 2003, 96, 102. 6 Gajdukevič 1971, 203. 7 Zubarev 2005, 241. 8 Agbunov 1992, 29‑30. 9 The seashore in this locality consists of cliffs and because of substantial erosion the post has been moved inland. 10 Vnukov 2003, 52, 202. 11 Anochin 1986, 140, pl. 3.111.

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Alexander V. Gavrilov Anochin 1986, 140, 141, pl. 3.111; 4.125. Anochin 1977, 149, pl. 14.215. Fedoseev 1998, 258. Šelov-Kovedjaev 1985, 152.

Bibliography Agbunov, M.V. 1992. Antičnaja geografija Severnogo Pričernomor’ja. Moskva. Anochin, V.A. 1977. Monetnoe delo Chersonesa (IV v. do n. e.-XII v. n. e.). Kiev. Anochin, V.A. 1986. Monetnoe delo Bospora v VI-II vv. do n. e. Kiev. Fedoseev, N.F. 1998. Keramičeskie klejma iz raskopok poselenija “Baklan’ja skala”, Drevnosti Bospora 1, Moskva, 253‑270. Gajdukevič, V.F. 1971. Das Bosporanische Reich. Berlin. Gavrilov, A.V., V.K. Golenko, A.L. Ermolin & P.G. Stoljarenko 2006. Razvedki na myse Čauda i ego okrestnostjach, Drevnosti Bospora 10, Moskva, 144‑155. Kruglikova, I.T. 1975. Sel‘skoe chozjajstvo Bospora. Moskva. Maslennikov, A.A. & T.N. Smekalova 2005. Sledy drevnego zemlevladenija i zemlepol‘zovanija na chore Evropejskogo Bospora (Vvedenie v temu), Drevnosti Bospora 8, Moskva, 276‑307. Smekalova, T.N. 2006. Sravnenie ortogonal‘nych sistem razmeževanija zemel’ na Evropejskom Bospore i v Chersonese (Tarchankutskij poluostrov), Drevnosti Bospora 10, Moskva, 389‑415. Smekalova, T.N. & S.L. Smekalov 2006. Ancient Roads and Land Division in the Chorai of the European Bosporos and Chersonesos on the Evidence of Air Photographs, Mapping and Surface Surveys, in: P. Guldager Bilde & V.F. Stolba (eds.), Surveying the Greek Chora Black Sea Region in a Comparative Perspective. Aarhus, 207‑248. Smekalova, T.N., A.A. Maslennikov & S.L. Smekalov 2005. Ortogonal’nye sistemy razmeževanija zemel’ evropejskogo Bospora i prirodnodemografičeskie faktory, in: V.Ju. Zuev et al. (eds.), Bosporskij fenomen: problema sootnošenija pis’mennych i archeologičeskich istočnikov. Materialy meždunarodnoj naučnoj konferencii. St Peterburg, 79‑97. Šelov, D.B. 1978. Uzkogorlye svetloglinjanye amfory pervych vekov našej ery. Klassifikacija i chronologija, KSIA 156, 16‑21. Šelov-Kovedjaev F.V. 1985. Istorija Bospora v VI-IV vv. do n.e., in: A.P. Novosel’cev (ed.), Drevnejšie gosudarstva na territorii SSSR. Materialy i issledovanija, 1984 god. Moskva, 5‑187. Vnukov, S.Ju. 2003. Pričernomorskie amfory I v. do n.e.-II v. n.e. Moskva. Zubarev, V.G. 2005. Istoričeskaja geografija Severnogo Pričernomor’ja po dannym antičnoj pis’mennoj tradicii. Moskva.

Archaeological Sites of the Southwestern Part of Bosporos and their Connection to the Landscape Tatina N. Smekalova

Previous studies have revealed six areas of orthogonal land-division on the territory of the European Bosporos with the help of complex distant methods of investigations (aerial photographing, satellite images, cartography), archaeological surveys and geophysical prospection:1 1) the south-western part of the Kerch peninsula 2) the middle part of the peninsula near the Strait of Kerch 3) the region to the north-east of the city of Kerch extending towards Mount Temir-Gora 4) the region west of Pantikapaion 5) the region of Tyritake 6) the region of Kytaia

Fig. 1. Three-dimensional map of the Kerch Peninsula. The barrows, visible on the “oneverst” map of the end of 19th century and on the map of 1955 on a scale 1:25000 are marked with black dots.

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The southern part of the Kerch Peninsula from Cape Čauda reaching as far as Lake Uzunlar is the first and the largest region. In aerial photographs taken in 1972, the traces of at least 130 ancient land plots are distinctly visible.2 The kleroi measure about 350 m in width and 388‑390 m in length, the area of each square plot equaling 12.25 hectares. The grid of these squares is only disturbed by the steep beach and banks of Lake Kačik, which was probably a sea bay in Antiquity. On the plots situated to the east of the lake, additional meridian lines can be seen – possibly the result of restructuring. The preserved elements of the system of land lots yielded by maps and satellite photographs allow us to reconstruct the orthogonal structure of the land division throughout a considerable territory that exceeds several times the initial area where we can see the plots in the aerial photographs. Especially noteworthy are at least three ancient “trunk roads” leading seawards from north to south. This territory is bounded on the south and west by the sea, on the east by Lake Uzunlar, and on the north by a line slightly farther north of the northern extension of the same lake. The total area of the reconstructed system of rectangular land plots amounts to about 350 km2, the plots numbering at least 2,800. In addition to the orthogonal system of the fields, many kurgans are mapped on the detailed maps of the area, especially on the “verst” map of 1896 and on the map of 1955‑1965 with a scale of 1:25000. The barrows which have been revealed on these maps (in total more than 3,000) are shown in Figure 1 on the background of a three-dimensional relief map of the Kerch Peninsula. A remarkable feature is a lengthy chain of closely spaced kurgans. This chain extends from the north-eastern outskirts of the town of Staryj Krym along the Čurjuk-Su River, turning abruptly to the east near the village Novopokrovka and running along the Parpač Ridge to the Uzunlar Rampart. Here the chain splits, one branch of it running to Nymphaion, the other to Cape Ak-Burun.3 Archaeologically speaking, the southwestern part of the Kerch Peninsula is studied less than the other areas, perhaps because its approximately 5‑ kmwide costal line was closed for visitors since 1940, because the area was a military zone. Only one settlement, Kazeka near Cape Čauda, is known from the historical sources, and one more settlement, called Karasevka, is marked at the northern part of the area by I.T. Kruglikova.4 There is almost nothing left from the settlement of Kazeka due to the erosion of the sea shore and to modern constructions. Thanks to recent investigations by A.V. Gavrilov, new settlements and farmsteads, land division systems, wells and other objects have been revealed at the southern part of the area.5 All these will give us new information which could change our opinion about the area, until now considered a “white spot” on the archaeological map of the Kerch Peninsula. Therefore, it is worthwhile to review in detail the geomorphological, geological and hydrogeological structure of the area and consider the connections of the ancient sites and land division systems with the natural conditions there.

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Fig. 2. Kurgan group near the settlement Sadovoe 2 on the river Čurjuk-Su. Results of magnetic survey of 2007. Magnetic grey scale map.

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In respect to morphology and geology, this area is considerably different from the northeastern part of the Kerch Peninsula. The Parpač Ridge, which runs in a latitudinal direction in the middle part of the peninsula, is a natural border between two parts of the peninsula. The Parpač Ridge starts near the village of Vladislavovka at the western border of the peninsula. This ridge is formed by a layer of Čokrak limestone, which is situated between two softer geological layers.6 The average height of the Parpač Ridge is from 80 to 150 m, and the highest point is Mount Pachlobaj at a height of 189 m. The relief of the southwestern part of the peninsula, which is limited from the north and east by the Parpač Ridge, is flat, and the surface is divided by wide, shallow ravines with gentle slopes, which gradually became the slopes of the watersheds. The main watershed is displaced to the south of the Parpač Ridge. There are coastal salt lakes (Kačik, Uzunlar) in the lower parts of some of the ravines, which are divided from the sea by a bar of sand and shells. Some of the hills (Tautepe, Djurmen’ and others), which are rather high, up to 60‑80 m, were formed by harder limestone. The monotonous landscape is disturbed by plate-like depressions (kol’), which fill up with atmospheric water from time to time. There are marine Quaternary terraces existing in the coastal plane near the Čauda Cape.7 The northeastern part of the Kerch Peninsula has a much more hilly relief. There are some hollows surrounded by ring-like ridges consisting of limestone. With a height of 100‑180 m above sea level, these ridges are not very tall. There are also low plateaus in the eastern part of the Kerch Peninsula and Mount Opuk (184 m) rises up in the southern part of the peninsula. The dirt volcanoes are rather numerous.8 The hydrographic net of the Kerch Peninsula is weakly developed and represented by shallow-water rivers and dry ravines. The northern part of the peninsula is characterized by more ravines. The biggest ones on the peninsula are the Samarli Ravine, which fell into Lake Aktash, the Saraj-Minsk Ravine, and also the Melek-Česme River.9 The last big river to the west on the Kerch Peninsula is the Čurjuk-Su River. To the east of it is a plain, almost without water, especially in the southwestern part of the peninsula. As mentioned above, there is a chain of barrows along the eastern bank of the Čurjuk-Su River. Not only are there a large number of barrows, but there are many settlements from the 5th to the 3rd centuries BC along the high eastern bank of the Čurjuk-Su River. One of the groups of barrows, situated near the settlement Sadovoe 2, was surveyed with magnetometers in 2007. Very clear patterns of the barrows are visible on the magnetic map (Fig. 3). Each barrow is surrounded by a circular positive anomaly, which corresponds to a ring ditch created during the construction of the barrow. There is an interruption of the circle at the eastern side, indicating the entrance to the barrow. Some local positive anomalies are possibly created by the burials inside the barrows. The topsoil consists here of silted solonetzic černozems, meadow and

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Fig. 3. Hydrogeological map of the Kerch Peninsula. 1 – Area of slow water-circulation in Maikop clays, 2 – Small artesian basins of the northern and northeastern part of the peninsula (after Qidrologija SSSR 1970, 234-235).

černozem-meadow soils, and solonetzs. At present, these soils are considered potentially fit for agriculture but in need of certain improvements.10 In Antiquity, however, these lands were probably considerably more fertile; otherwise it is impossible to understand the well-known statement of Strabon that the plain between Theodosia and Pantikapaion was rich in grain and had many settlements (7.4.4). The soils of the northeastern part of the Kerch Peninsula are more diverse and in general more fertile, especially near the Kerch Strait and in the area of Lake Čurubaš. The southwestern part of the Kerch Peninsula represents itself a limited area, which is characterized by a different geological structure from the other part of peninsula. The Quaternary sediments of the Black Sea basin come from there. They created a 20‑25‑m-high terrace on Cape Čauda and consist of sand and clay layers in the lower part and of limestone in the upper part. Further to the north in the peninsula they transformed into continental redbrown clays.11 Inside this area, waters, which correspond to sand layers in the upper part of the Maikop clays, come from the atmosphere. But the amount of atmospheric moisture is limited and the penetration of water through the sediments is weak. There are no ground waters and no zone of free water supply in that area. Maikop clays, which are in general waterproof sediments, occupy the main part of this region (Fig 3). The ground waters thus are only in the ravines.

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The wells, which have been cut in the layer of Quaternary limestone, are only near and to the east of Cape Čauda. In all other parts of the area it is possible to collect and store water only by building dams on the ravines. The northeastern part of the Kerch Peninsula, unlike the southwestern part, has a number of separate miniature artesian basins, which correspond to some synclinals (Fig.  3). The thick layer of Maikop clays is the basis for the artesian basins. The supply of underground waters of Middle Miocenian, Sarmatian, Meotian and Pontic sediments for these basins is realized on the edges of synclinals in the area of the Parpač Ridge.12 Therefore, the highest level of ground water is observed along it.13 The water level in the wells there is about 2‑5 m from the surface. The chemical composition of the ground water of the northeastern part of the peninsula varies a lot. The water is salty, hard, mostly containing sulpher chloride, natrium and calcium.14 Thus, the areas to the south of the Parpač Ridge have no ground waters. Only on Cape Čauda are there wells, which were cut in the Quaternary limestone layer until the horizon of Maikop clays. The only water sources in the rest of this rather big area are numerous artificial ponds, which were created in the ravines. Around each village there are many such ponds marked on the “half-verst” map of 1897. Some of the dams were built far from villages, and they could indicate some settlements or water sources for cattle which existed in the area prior to the 19th century, perhaps in Medieval times or even in Antiquity. There could be perspective in investigating such places for finding ancient settlements. The whole southwestern part of the Kerch Peninsula was inhabited by settled populations who built dams on ravines near their settlements and pastures to insure water storage for both people and cattle. This may be the reason why there are not many big nomadic barrows in the area. All of the traditional migration routes went to the north of this area, along the Parpač Ridge, where it was possible to make stops at good water sources. The line of barrows on the Parpač Ridge tells us about the route, which went the length of the whole peninsula, from central Crimea to the Kerch Strait. Notes 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Smekalova & Smekalov 2006; Smekalova 2007. Smekalova & Smekalov 2005, figs. 2a and 3a-b. Smekalova & Smekalov 2005, 229. Kruglikova 1979, 273. Gavrilov in this volume. Andrusov, 1885, 70. Gidrogeologija SSSR 1970, 59‑60. Gidrogeologija SSSR 1970, 59‑60. Oliferov, Timčenko 2005, 137‑142. Dragan 2004, 55, 165. Gidrogeologija SSSR 1970, 40.

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12 Gidrogeologija SSSR 1970, 178. 13 Gidrogeologija SSSR 1970, 147. 14 Gidrogeologija SSSR 1970, 178.

Bibliography Andrusov,  N. 1885. Geologičeskie issledovanija v zapadnoj polovine Kerčenskogo poluostrova, proizvedennye letom 1884  g., Zapiski Novorossijskogo Obščestva Estestvoispytatelej 11.2, 69‑116. Dragan, N.A. 2004. Počvennye resursy Kryma. Simferopol’. Gidrogeologija SSSR 1970 (Hydrogeology of USSR). Vol. VIII. Krim. Eds. L. N. Barabanov, G.A. Lychagin, I.A. Mesjaz et al. Moskva. Kruglikova, I.T. 1975. Sel’skoe chozjajstvo Bospora. Moskva. Oliferov, A.N. & Z.V. Timchenko 2005. Reki i ozera Krima. Simferopol’. Smekalova, T.N. 2006. Comparison of orthogonal systems of land division on the European Bosporos and in Chersonesos (Tarkhankut peninsula). Drevnosti Bospora 10. Moskva, 389‑415. Smekalova, T.N. & S.L. Smekalov 2006. Ancient Roads and Land division in the chora of the European Bosporos and Chersonesos on the evidence of air photographs, mapping and surface surveys, in: P. Guldager Bilde & V.F. Stolba (eds.), Surveying the Greek Chora. The Black Sea Region in a Comparative Perspective (BSS 4). Aarhus, 207‑248.

Kurgan Burials from Nymphaion – A New Approach Jane Hjarl Petersen

The kurgan burials from Nymphaion have been attracting attention from historians and archaeologists as well as the public for more than a century. Previous research has primarily been preoccupied with the ethnicity of the buried people, mainly trying to determine whether it was Greeks or Scythians who buried their dead in this elaborate manner. This paper intends to change the focus from the ethnicity related issues and instead offer a new socio-political approach with which the understanding of the kurgans can be placed in a broader archaeological and historical context.

Introduction The ancient city of Nymphaion was situated on the Kara-Burun cape near the modern village of Eltigen or Geroevskoe, c. 17 kilometres from the ancient city of Pantikapaion at modern day Kerch.1 The city is placed on a plateau bordered to the east and northeast by the Kerch Straits, to the west and northwest by a shallow gorge, and slanting towards the south into the sandy lowland (Fig. 1).2 The earliest Greek finds suggest a foundation date sometime in the second quarter of the 6th century BC, probably initiated by colonists from Ionia, possibly Milesians or Samians.3 The first documented modern historical interest in the locality of ancient Nymphaion goes back to the middle of the 19th century and the first proper archaeological investigations took place in the 1860s. It was in particular the extraordinary finds of gold jewellery and Greek painted pottery that called the attention to the burials of Nymphaion, especially from burials under tumuli – the so-called kurgans, since these were and still are easily identifiable in the landscape. The first investigations and excavations from 1866 and onwards were published in the Otčet Imperatorskoj Archeologičeskoj Komissi (OAK) by the director of the Kerch Museum of Antiquities, A.E. Ljucenko, and, later, in 1959, by L.F. Silant’eva concomitantly with accounts of excavations from the years 1876‑1880.4 However, the extraordinary finds from the burials of Nymphaion attracted not only historians and archaeologists, but also the general public which resulted in intensified robbing and lootings of many of the burials.5 These unauthorized excavations were easy to conduct at the time as both the ancient city and the cemetery were situated on private estates.6

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Fig. 1. Map of Nymphaion (Scholl & Zin’ko 1999, Map 3).

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The cemetery of Nymphaion is situated to the south, west and north-west of the city. The landscape is dominated by the large kurgans placed on the natural ridges surrounding the city. The kurgans are mainly located to the south of the city on the hills along the shore of the Kerch Straits and to the north-west on the steppe lands along Lake Čurubaš.7 When approaching the site today, one is struck by the sheer size and majestic appearance of these burial mounds and the impact they still make on the landscape and the people of modern times, be they visitors or residents. Thus, a journey through the northern Black Sea region reveals instances of ancient kurgans now in use as modern village cemeteries – a fine example of the impact these monuments still have on the religious conscience of the people living in the region today (Fig. 2). This paper will focus on the published intact kurgan burials of the 5th and 4th centuries. Because it is a fundamental premise of this study that the analysed burials have not been robbed or disturbed in any way, the number of suitable kurgans from Silant’eva’s publication is rather small; seven kurgans from the 5th century and 12 kurgans from the 4th and early 3rd centuries.8 It must also be stressed that some caution should be exercised when dealing with the burials in kurgans, since it can be difficult to determine the main burial of a kurgan, especially in regard to the rather simple cremation burials. There are numerous examples of multiple burials within the same kurgan mound and unless the main burial is very dominant and the mound has been thoroughly investigated, it is difficult to say which burial is the primary or dominant one and which has a subordinate status to the main burial or was

 

Fig. 2. Ancient kurgan in use as modern cemetery. Photo by Trine Madsen.

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added later. Moreover, the situation can be complicated further, since some kurgans were originally erected in the Bronze Age and then reused and expanded later on. Unfortunately, the poor level of information from the original excavations reports and Silant’eva’s publication make such problems rather difficult to solve in a study like this.

The kurgans of the 5th century The kurgans occur in the grave material from Nymphaion for the first time in this period and the datable ceramics within the burials seem to suggest a date towards the middle of the 5th century for the introduction of this grave type.9 Regrettably, the original information on the kurgans, their size and general measures is rather sparse. The specification of the topographical situation of the kurgans is also rather vague and the most detailed description places kurgan K114 and K11510 near the Burun Lake and K1 on the Erochin Estate. Thus, the state of information does not at this stage allow for interpretations of the topographical situation, the internal relations within the kurgans or their relations with the defined flat ground cemetery area.11 The kurgan burials of the 5th century can be divided into two distinct groups. The first group is characterised by rather simple cremations in ceramic containers, in one instance an Attic red-figured hydria closed with an amphora foot (kurgan K1), and in another instance an unspecified amphora also closed with an amphora foot (kurgan K4). The cremations have no grave goods inside the containers or in their vicinity, apart from a fragmented, presumed Attic, red-figured crater in the fill above K1. The urn of K1 was set in a slab-covered deepening and grave goods placed near or inside the urn would presumably have been preserved had they existed. Both cremation burials are dated around the middle of the 5th century by means of the ceramic containers.12 The second group of kurgan burials is characterised by inhumations in cist graves made with stone slabs. The slabs are made from limestone, presumably of local origin. The cist graves are rather large, measuring from 3.2, 2.5 and 2.3 m in length and 1.7, 1.25 and 1.0 m in width. In all the cist graves included in this material, the deceased was placed in a wooden sarcophagus, and in kurgan K113 the sarcophagus was decorated with plaster appliques.13 Decorated sarcophagi seem to have been quite popular in Nymphaion and other Bosporan cities, and finds from Nymphaion date from the 5th century BC up into the 2nd century AD.14 Finds of wooden sarcophagi fragments and plaster appliqués have also been found in Archaic burials from Olbia.15 All the burials have the deceased placed with the head facing east; in one instance the orientation of the deceased has not been stated. Unfortunately, neither sex nor age has been determined for any of the deceased in these kurgan burials which makes analyses on the relations between gender and / or age impossible.

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Fig. 3 (in total numbers)

7

6

5

4

3

2

1

0 NOT 0

NOT 1

NOT 2

NOT 3

NOT 4

NOT 5

NOT 6

 

Fig. 3. NOT values of the flat ground burials (in total numbers).

The number of grave goods in the inhumation burials is rather high, ranging from nine to 21 pieces with the majority of the burials containing 17 to 21 pieces. In comparison it is interesting to point out that a cist burial from the Nymphaion flat ground cemetery also scored rather high on number of grave goods.16 However, if we look at the variation in the grave goods types (the NOT value17) the kurgan cists have fairly high scores (8, 14, 17 and 18) in comparison with this cist burial from the flat ground cemetery which had a score of 5. (For a general comparison with the NOT values of the total number of flat ground burials see Fig. 3). Half of the kurgan inhumations have outside deposits of additional burials, burnt animal bones and ceramics. On top of the burial in kurgan K113 was found a mass burial of eight horses, two terracotta satyrs, fragments from a red-figured crater, and three ceramic vessels, one of which contained unidentified burnt animal bones. On another location in the kurgan two additional human burials were found, but without grave goods to date them and/or relate them to the main burial. Near burial K114, a pit with several horse skeletons was found. Furthermore, an additional cist grave came to light, but without any traces of grave goods, as it had been plundered. Thus, in comparison with the burials from the flat ground cemetery from the same period, the kurgans seem to be characterised by two main grave types: cremation in ceramic container and inhumation in cist grave with wooden sarcophagus. The first type is void of grave goods while in the latter there is both a high number of grave goods and broad variation among them. Outside deposits of both animal sacrifices and presumed food/drink offerings in ceramic jars seem to have played a significant role. In general, the grave

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goods are rather homogeneous in character: weapons such as harnesses, arrow heads, spearheads and daggers; horse equipment such as cheek pieces and bridles; drinking and banquette-related ceramics such as kylikes, amphoras, craters, and ladles in bronze; personal equipment such as elaborate jewellery of precious metals often decorated in the so-called “animal style”, and bronze mirrors are all represented in the graves. The burial assemblages have good parallels in material from the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford which displays weapons and drinking and banquette-related objects, as well as jewellery of exactly the same types.18 This collection of grave goods and skeleton material from several different burials arrived in Oxford in 1880. The collection is said to have come from kurgan burials in Nymphaion and was brought to England by Sir W. Siemens, an engineer working on the laying of a part of the Indo-European Telegraph across the Kerch Straits.19 Similar to the Nymphaion kurgans the material demonstrates, in its own isolated context, an example of the rich, elaborate and varied grave goods of many of the kurgan burials and provides a fine picture of the mixed cultural setting in which these burials can be understood and interpreted.20 However, before venturing into the interpretative aspects of the burials a look at the ceramics found in the kurgans will be examined more closely here. Ceramics are present as grave goods in all the kurgan burials of the 5th century. Graves K1 and K4 are cremations where ceramics are only represented by the cremation containers (hydria and amphora), while the remaining burials all have ceramics as proper grave goods. Nine out of 14 pieces of ceramics are cups (eight Attic black-glazed kylikes and one Attic red-figured skyphos); two are Attic black-glazed bowls, while the remaining three are amphorae (two toes and one complete vessel). Thus, all ceramics from the kurgans are shapes which are traditionally connected with drinking and banqueting although we may note the secondary use of the amphora feet as stoppers. In comparison, the majority of the ceramic vessels in the flat ground burials are lekythoi and askoi traditionally connected with oil in burial contexts. (Fig. 4) It seems then, that there is a fundamental difference in the reception of pottery shapes and thus pottery functions in the kurgans and in the flat ground burials. If we look at the grave goods made from glass, faience and alabaster it becomes clear that the oil related shapes missing in the pottery shapes are not represented in the kurgans by vessels made from alabaster or glass either.21 Furthermore, objects of metal underline this pattern as two kurgan burials have bronze oinochoai, one has a bronze hydria and a bronze bowl, while one has a silver phiale – perhaps used in this particular context as a serving device rather than an offering vessel due to the overall nature of the additional grave goods. Additionally, finds of sieves and ladles of bronze also belong in this context. Thus, assuming that the kurgan burials (at least the primary ones) are significantly more labour consuming in their construction than ordinary flat ground pit burials, and considering the grave goods assemblages of weap-

Kurgan Burials from Nymphaion – A New Approach Fig. 4 Ceramic shapes (in total numbers)

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20

18

16

14

12 Flat ground burials Kurgan burials

10

8

6

4

2

0 Lekythos

Aryballos

Askos

Guttus

Oinochoe

Jug

Bowl

Cup

Amfora

 

Fig. 4. Ceramic shapes (in total numbers).

ons, horse sacrifices, jewellery and other objects of metal as well, it may be suggested that the kurgans belonged to a local elite. The members of this elite, who chose to be buried in the elaborate kurgans, apparently had a clear preference for pottery and metal vessels for drinking and banqueting over the more common preferences for oil related vessels which were the popular choice in the more ordinary flat ground burials. Now, how are we to interpret the kurgans of 5th century Nymphaion? In her conclusion of the MIA 1959 publication, Silant’eva presented a picture of a Greek population in a Greek polis interacting actively with the Scythian elite and tradesmen of the surrounding nomadic cultures. The Sythian elite was buried in the kurgans and described as connoisseurs of Greek luxury goods and in possession of civilised habits and ways of life; as being under strong influence of the Greek polis culture – quite simply as Hellenised barbarians.22 These interpretations are based on the burial material from the kurgans in question. With this picture Silant’eva is very much in line with famous Russian scholars of the past such as M. Rostovcev and V.F. Gajdukevič. However, even in modern scholarship the interpretation still finds support, for example by Olkhovsky (1995) and as recently as in 2005 by A.A. Maslennikov.23 Surely, it would be valuable to know exactly what ethnicity the buried people in the kurgans of the 5th century held, but ultimately this question is very difficult to answer solely on the grounds of the archaeological record. We may go as far as identifying different cultural markers (objects) with specific cultures, but the reception and use of these objects cannot directly be taken as a concrete reflection of ethnicity. No doubt, material culture can be a strong player in the display of ethnic identity, but the flexible and adjustable nature

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of identity – be that ethnic, cultural and/or social, is often manipulated with material culture as a strong tool. However, returning to the present topic we may state that what the kurgans probably can tell us about concerns the social strategies of the local elite – whatever ethnicity it may have had. In the kurgan burials the language of power speaks of a rather unanimous approach to displaying status: the monumentality of the burial mound itself, the reference to warfare, the display of wealth through jewellery and other metal objects as well as ownership of horses, and the references to drinking and banqueting. But these features are not elite markers specifically confined to the Black Sea region or, for that matter, the Scythian elite per se. Such features are wellknown from elite milieus in the Near East, in the Greek world, in Etruria and in central European cultures just to mention some of the closest geographical parallel areas. The socio-political context of the 5th century kurgan burials in Nymphaion probably tell us why a strong ruling class chose to bury in such dominant and powerful displays: the fight for maintaining independence from the Bosporan Kingdom was probably not an easy task given the geographical and political situation of the city, situated only some 17 kilometres south of Pantikapaion. What we see in the kurgan burials may very well be reflections of an opposition to the pressure of the upcoming dominant power factor of the region. Though we may question the scale of dominance imposed by the Bosporan Kingdom in the beginning of its existence due to the lack of sources, it is probably still valid to propose that the political environment of the northeastern Black Sea region in the 5th century was one of turbulence and changes. Other cities of the same region were hostile towards the Bosporan Kingdom and rejected joining as was presumably the case with Theodosia further to the south from Nymphaion and Gorgippia in the southern part of Taman’.24 Nymphaion’s membership of the Delian League could have communicated a strong political message,25 but near the end of the century, when Athens was in deep trouble herself, Nymphaion’s position weakened. Aischines, however, claimed that it was internal problems, the treason of Gylon that caused the loss of Nymphaion to the enemy, the Bosporan Kingdom (Aeschin. In Ctes. 3.171‑172), according to Avram, Hind & Tsetskhladze c. 410‑405 (2004, 948).26 Moreover, the argument for the strong elite in Nymphaion seems to be strengthened by the fact that the late 5th century silver coinage of Nymphaion can be chronologically connected with the period of membership of the Delian League, as can a smaller silver coin hoard possibly referring to a local Tyrant by the name of Sammas.27 By shifting the focus from ethnicity-related issues of “Hellenised Scythians”, held by Silant’eva and others, to a socio-political approach, I believe that the understanding of the kurgan burials is placed in a much broader and more interesting interpretative frame which provides an overall interpretation of both the culturally complex elite burials and their function as social and political markers. Furthermore, on the basis of this line of argument the radical

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shift in the equipment of the 4th century burials finds a plausible explanation, which will be presented next. This radical shift was noted by Silant’eva, but not addressed or attempted interpreted in any way by her.28

The kurgans of the 4th century As with the kurgans of the 5th century, the topographical situation presents some difficulties due to the poor level of information in the original publications.29 The rather broad topographical directions given in the publication are as follows: three kurgans lie near the Burun Lake two of the kurgans are situated on the Eltigen Estate and two on the road towards Čurubaš: for the five remaining kurgans no specific locations are stated. The state of information unfortunately only allows for very superficial treatment of the topographical positions of the kurgans and their interrelations. It is, however, noteworthy that the locality near the Burun Lake, where some of the kurgans of the 5th century were also situated, still seems to enjoy popularity as a kurgan cemetery in the 4th and early 3rd centuries. As was the case in the 5th century, both cremation and inhumation rites are found in the kurgans of the 4th and early 3rd centuries. Likewise, inhumations were common and cremations relatively few (seven inhumations and two cremations; the remaining three burials offer no information on the treatment of the body). The cremations are placed in a ceramic container (Grave K7) and in a simple pit in the ground (Grave K8), respectively. Cremation K7 is placed in a hydria, which is unfortunately not described in any detail by Silant’eva.30 It seems that the hydria was found placed in a pit measuring 2 x 3 m amidst debris of burnt wood, and that it contained cremated bones and coal. The grave goods were placed inside the hydria, constituting an impressive set of elaborate gold jewellery including a necklace with a lion and griffin motif, an earring which also had a lion head motif, and two finger rings.31 Apart from this rich set of jewellery, the urn and pit were void of grave goods. The date suggested by Silant’eva is broadly set to the 3rd century, but the style and execution of the jewellery may well point to a slightly earlier date in the late 4th century.32 Unfortunately, the sparse information on the hydria and the lack of pictures or drawings of it make it difficult fully to judge the validity of the suggested date. The cremation from grave K8 is of a slightly different character since the cremation was not placed in a ceramic container but directly in a pit in the ground. Here the cremated bones are mixed with coal and grave goods, respectively. The grave goods consist of an Attic black-glazed kylix, an alabastron of alabaster presumably of east Mediterranean or Egyptian origin, a bronze ladle, a bronze strigil, and several fragments of copper nails which could possibly be related to a wooden stretcher placed on the pyre. The date of the assemblage is broadly stated as “5th to 4th centuries”,33 and again we are left without any additional information, pictures or drawings of the material to narrow down the date further.34 The grave goods are interesting because of

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the dual connotations they bear. The cup and ladle clearly relate to a drinking or banquet-orientated context, whereas the alabastron and strigil are obviously part of an athlete’s equipment from the world of the gymnasium. These two aspects of traditional Greek male culture underline the message of the grave complex: the buried individual was clearly represented in death as a person who, irrespective of ethnic origin, possessed important and well defined links to central elements of Greek culture. Before turning to the inhumations, one more burial deserves a few words here. Grave K38 belongs to the group of burials without information on the treatment of the body. Interestingly, no skeleton or remains of such was reported found in the cist grave, but an amphora foot was among the grave goods. As we have seen in the previous material (Kurgan K1 and K4 from Phase 3) amphora feet have been known to function as lids or stoppers for cremation urns and the missing skeleton in combination with the amphora foot could suggest that K38 was originally a cremation. Apart from a few descriptive words on the grave goods, a black-glazed lekanis and a bronze ladle, no mention of coal or burnt material is made in the catalogue, nor is any specific location given.35 The date of the grave is again very broadly indicated as “5th to 4th centuries”, and no pictures or drawings can validate this date. The kurgans with inhumation burials amount to seven burials total, of which two are identified as child burials and the remaining five are undetermined as to age. None of the burials have been anthropologically sexed. Of the seven securely identified inhumation burials, four are placed in cist graves made from mud bricks and covered with stone slabs. One (K44) is identified as a simple pit burial in the ground, and for one (K32) there is no information on the grave type. Furthermore, two burials (K102 and K103) have no information on the treatment of the body but are cist graves made from mud bricks covered with stone slabs. It is thus possible that they are inhumations as well, since the majority of the inhumation burials are of this type. Thus, the overall dominant grave type of the kurgans of Phase 4 is the cist grave made from mud brick mostly covered with stone slabs of local limestone. The grave type is used for both children and adult burials (we may assume that at least part of the burials of indeterminate age are adults) and contains both individual and multiple burials. The multiple burials are found in three out of the seven burials. However low the number may be in statistical terms, this is a significant rise in multiple burials compared to the one unique multiple burial (I199) from the flat ground cemetery. Two of the multiple burials are double burials, and in one of them (K33) a wooden coffin was placed in the cist grave. The third multiple burial (K36) has five individuals buried together in a cist grave covered with three stone slabs. Information on the grave goods is again insufficient and details of the position of the grave goods are rarely specific. Two graves (K36 and K34) contain coins, in both cases more than one. It is, however, not stated in the publication whether they were found near the skulls and thereby can possibly

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be interpreted as Charon’s coins.36 The same two graves also contain alabastra, presumably of east Mediterranean or Egyptian manufacture. Grave K33 has an Attic red-figured pelike placed near one of the deceased and a gilded bronze ring near the other. Multiple burials are often associated with nonGreek burial customs, both in the Black Sea region and in Magna Graecia.37 However, there are no other clearly visible markers of ethnicity or identity in the graves to point in the direction of an affiliation with nomadic burial customs or culture in the burials in question here. The grave goods are predominantly imported from the Mediterranean and in two cases the coins are of Pantikapaian manufacture. In K33 and K34 both individuals are orientated with their heads towards the east, while no information on orientation is given for K36. Thus, no immediate conclusions can be made on the link between multiple burials and ethnicity based on this material. The burials of individuals in cist graves leave much the same picture as the multiple burials. The orientation of the deceased is only stated with respect to one grave (K35), where the head is facing west. It is stated that Grave K102 was planned on a west – east axis, but there is no information on the orientation of the deceased. The number of grave goods is mediocre (7, 5 and 4) and the score for number of artefact types (NOT-value) the same (5, 4 and 4) which, again, gives a picture of relatively varied assemblages of grave goods. The grave goods are, interestingly, mostly comprised of imported painted Attic pottery such as pelikai and lekythoi. K35 has an iron strigil, placed next to the legs of the deceased, and an iron knife, also placed inside the grave. Furthermore, the grave has a copper coin issued in Pantikapaion, but again the position of the coin is unfortunately not stated. Apart from two red-figured palmette lekythoi and an unspecified number of fragments from black-glazed bowls, Grave K103 has a set of tools consisting of an iron knife and a whetstone. The grave is also equipped with two lamps, which seem to be a rather rare piece of grave goods in Nymphaion, at least for the preceding periods. Graves K102 and K103 both contain smaller rings of copper and iron, possibly from jewellery or dress ornaments. The dates of the three burials all fall near the end of the 4th century and are rather well attested to by the imported pottery and coins inside the graves. Looking more closely at the grave goods of the 4th century, a general diagram of the different object type groups illustrates how the 131 pieces of grave goods from the period are distributed, distinguishing between the flat ground burials and the kurgans.38 (Fig. 5). The object group of ceramics is by far the most common type of grave goods in the period and is represented both in the flat ground burials and the kurgan burials. Fig. 6 shows the distribution of the different pottery shapes, and it is quite clear that the lekythos is the most popular shape in both burial types, even though the evidence from the kurgans at least is based on very low numbers. Where the lekythoi or other oil-related ceramic shapes played a very insignificant part in the assemblages of the kurgans of the 5th century, they are now present in the kurgans from the 4th and early 3rd

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Fig. 5. Object type groups (in total numbers) 45

40

35

30

25

Flat ground burials

20

Kurgan burials with discrepancy 2,5

Kurgan burials

15

10

5

0

Ceramics

Weapon

Jewellery

GFA

Flat ground burials

40

0

20

2

1

0

Kurgan burials

13

0

8

5

3

0

9

32,5

0

20

12,5

7,5

0

22,5

Kurgan burials with discrepancy 2,5

Personalia Terracotta

Varia 20

 

Fig. 5. Diagram of different object type groups (in total numbers).

centuries, but interestingly the four lekythoi are found in only two burials (K102 and K103) out of 12 kurgan burials; each of the two burials are equipped with a pair of red-figured lekythoi decorated with palmettes.39 This could indicate that the use of lekythoi is still not common in the kurgans and that the burials in K102 and K103 may be related in some way perhaps as family members, socially or through social or political competition.40 The amphora seems to have disappeared from the kurgan burials whereas it is a quite popular shape in the flat ground burials (Fig.  6). The drinking cups however still enjoy more popularity in the kurgan burials than in the flat ground graves, while jugs are very rare (only one occurrence!), but more numerous than cups in the flat ground burials. Thus, it is likely to be fruitless to look for a more general custom of placing “sets” of cups and jugs together, since the only burial where the two shapes are combined is in Grave K83. Otherwise the cups are in three cases found together with ladles of bronze and in the case of Grave K52 an assemblage of cup, amphora and ladle. The jugs leave us with a less distinct picture, as one is found with a piece of tile (Grave I101), and one with an unspecified jar, although Grave I219 has the combination of two jugs and a Herakleian amphora. The new pottery shapes entering the scene are confined to the kurgans and are pelike (two red-figured pieces) and lekanis (one black-glazed piece), which at least, as regards the pelikai, is hardly surprising in a 4th century Bosporan context.41 What is more puzzling is that there are only two pelikai in the corpus of 42 burials from the 4th and early 3rd centuries!42 An important observation from Fig. 5 is the total absence of weapons. Compared with the previous periods where weapons were not uncommon in the

Kurgan Burials from Nymphaion – A New Approach Fig. 6. Ceramics (in total numbers)

227

25

20

15 Flat ground burials Kurgan burials Kurgan burials with discrepancy 2,5 10

5

0

Lekyth os

Ampho ra

Cup

Oinoch Pyxis oe

Bowl

Uniden Lekani Pelike tified s

4

8

2

1

1

2

Kurgan burials

4

1

0

3

0

0

0

1

2

2

Kurgan burials with discrepancy 2,5

10

2,5

0

7,5

0

0

0

2,5

5

5

Flat ground burials

20

Jug

0

0

2

 

Fig. 6. Distribution of ceramic shapes (in total numbers).

assemblages of grave goods, it is striking that there seems to be no interest in the display of warfare objects in the 4th century burials. There are, however, three burials (Graves K102, K103 and K35) which contain iron knives that might be interpreted as weapons, but could just as well have functioned as tools. As there are no other objects or circumstances in the burials with knives that can be associated with warfare, it must remain unresolved whether the knives functioned as weapons, were placed in the burials to evoke connotations of warfare – or were placed there simply as a personal tool. Vessels made from glass, faience or alabaster were rather well represented in the flat ground burials of the 5th century, but were not popular in the kurgan burials. In the 4th century this picture is quite the opposite. As shown in Fig. 5, the flat ground burials present only two examples of alabastra (Graves K54 and K107), while the kurgan burials have five pieces (from five burials: K8, K32, K34, K36 and K102). In percentages this means that only 7 % of the flat ground burials are equipped with alabastra, while this counts for 42 % of the kurgans. It therefore seems that the attitude towards oil-related practices in the kurgan burials changed radically from the 5th to the 4th century. Furthermore, another important grave goods feature namely the strigil now appears in the burials, though not in any great numbers (three strigils from three burials K8, K35 and K59). However low the numbers, it is interesting to note that two of the three burials with strigils are kurgan burials. Are we witnessing, on a small scale, a change in the elite attitude towards oil-related practices in the burial customs? It seems that the world of the palaestra with its connotations of athletic strength, youth and focus on hygiene (oil and strigil) may have played a central role in the “new” elite expressions of the 4th and early 3rd centuries.43

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Yet another very important and prominent feature in the grave goods of the period is the coins which are found in both flat ground burials and kurgan burials. The majority of the coins are copper coins issued in Pantikapaion and only in one instance is a coin made of bronze (Grave I7(V)). Unfortunately, the publications have only sparse information on the positions of the coins in the burials; thus, for only two of the 11 burials containing coins are more specific positions indicated, such as “at neck” (I130) and “on jaw of deceased male” (I199). Surely it is tempting to interpret the coins as Charon’s obols and for the positions at the jaw or the neck of the deceased it is quite possible that this is the case. In the majority of the burials, however, it must remain unresolved whether the coins are related to the specific rite, since coins could be placed in burials for a number of reasons other than as Charon’s obols.44 As for jewellery it can be noted that both flat ground burials and kurgan burials contain jewellery in a more or less equal percentage (Fig. 5). There is nevertheless a difference in the type of jewellery and the metal types from the one grave type to the other. The jewellery from the flat ground burials comprises necklaces, pendants, fibulae/dress pins, a few finger rings, and a few bracelets made from bronze, iron or glass, while the jewellery from the kurgans consists of earrings, finger rings and bracelets made of bronze, copper, iron, gilt bronze and gold. Although there are kurgan burials in the 4th and early 3rd centuries which are much more simply equipped, the richer metal finds are connected to the kurgan burials and thus confirm the notion of an elite burial type, still again, we may emphasise the change in the grandeur of the power displays from the previous century to the 4th century. It could thus be proposed that the social and political strategies of the elite expressions in the 4th and early 3rd centuries took on a very different face from the weapon- and warfare-related expressions of power of the 5th century. This may have been motivated by a radically altered political situation due Nymphaion joining the Bosporan Kingdom in the 4th century, possibly resulting in a fundamental change of internal power structures. To strengthen this argument it may be added that it is also in this period that the majority of the large, impressive kurgans in Pantikapaion were erected where weapons, jewellery and drinking-related ceramics constitute grave goods assemblages very similar in character to the 5th century kurgans in Nymphaion.

Conclusion The kurgan burials from Nymphaion have been attracting attention from historians and archaeologists as well as the public for more than a century. Previous research has primarily been preoccupied with the ethnicity of the buried people, mainly trying to determine whether it was Greeks or Scythians who buried their dead in this elaborate manner. Based on the assumption that archaeological remains in themselves are difficult to use as direct reflections of ethnicity, this study suggests a differ-

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ent approach to the understanding and interpretations of the Nymphaion kurgans. A detailed analysis of the layout of the burials and the grave goods provides a solid basis for a socio-political interpretation of the elite context in which these burials belonged. By applying a socio-political interpretive horizon to the kurgans of the 5th century it becomes clear that the weapon- and warfare-dominated burials accompanied by horse burials, elaborate jewellery and banquet equipment could be understood as an elite response in opposition to the upcoming power of the region, the Bosporan Kingdom. This picture is also confirmed in the ancient literary sources as well as in the numismatic evidence from the period. The socio-political line of thought further enables us to suggest an explanation for the radical shift in the assemblages of grave goods from the 4th and early 3rd century kurgans – a marked change that has never been properly addressed in the previous research. Thus, in a comparative analysis it is evident that the elite expressions and power displays of the 5th century, based on references to warfare and drinking disappear and take on a different and more subdued appearance in the 4th and early 3rd centuries. In this period there is a complete absence of weapons and warfare-related objects as well as an incipient turn towards oil-related practices exemplified by the increase in the number of lekythoi, alabastra and strigils, which were previously popular in the ordinary flat ground burials. The jewellery from the kurgans is still more elaborate and made from more precious metals than the jewellery from the flat ground burials – a fact that most probably indicates the elite’s continued interest in the power displays of this grave type. The impressive contemporary kurgan burials from Pantikapaion contain assemblages of grave goods which strongly resemble the assemblages of the 5th century Nymphaion kurgans, implying that the incorporation of Nymphaion into the Bosporan Kingdom in the 4th century had a marked influence on the socio-political environment of Nymphaion and on the power displays in the burials of the local elite. Notes 1 See Olszaniec 1996; Sokolova 2003, 759‑760 and Avram, Hind & Tsetskhladze 2004, 948 for an account of the ancient sources mentioning and describing Nymphaion. 2 Scholl & Zin’ko 1999, 23; Sokolova 2003, 759; Zin’ko 2006, 289‑290. The GPS coordinates are measured by Smekalov to 45° degrees 23’67’’ (N) and 36° degrees 41’73’’ (E) (Smekalov 1999, 366; 2001, 252). The coordinates were also measured in 2004 during a tour of the region made by the Danish National Research Foundation’s Centre for Black Sea Studies by J.M. Højte. At the location of the acropolis the measurements were as follows: UTM zone 37. X East 0297474. Y North 5012599. °North 45.23773. °East 36.41967. Height above sea level: 7. (The data are available on the webpage of the Danish National Research Foundations’ Centre for Black Sea Studies: (http://lysbilled.hum.au.dk/total/gazetteer/gazetteer.htm)).

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3 Stolba 2002, 19‑21; Sokolova 2003, 765. See also Avram, Hind & Tsetskhladze 2004, 948 for a short and to the point presentation on the topography and history of the city. 4 Silant’eva 1959. 5 Grač 1999, 23; Sokolova 2003, 760‑761. 6 See Solov’ev & Zin’ko 1995, 73 and Solov’ev 2003, 9 for an account of the different land plots and their owners. 7 Scholl & Zin’ko 1999, 70. 8 It is also of importance to stress that the selection of material could potentially be biased due to the secondary selection made by Silant’eva from the old reports in the OAK. However, a preliminary comparative study of her data with the old reports has not revealed any obvious discrepancies. 9 There are seven intact kurgan burials included in this study from this period. 10 A capital K in front of the grave number refers to the publication by Silant’eva (1959) while the capital I refers to the grave material from the publication by Grač (1999). 11 See also Silant’eva 1959, 11‑12 on the meagre state of the information from the old reports and the substantial plundering of the kurgans. 12 Silant’eva 1959, 97. 13 Silant’eva 1959, 104. 14 Jijina 1998; Baranova et al. 2001; Sheinina 2001; Smolyanitskaya et al. 2001; Zhizhina 2001, 249. 15 Skudnova 1988, 7‑9. 16 The number of cist graves from the flat ground cemetery only constitutes three burials which of course make the reliability of the data low. From these three burials the number of grave goods is rather low in two cases (Grave K61: 1 piece and Grave K60: 2 pieces) but very high in the last case (Grave K50: 18 pieces). 17 NOT value: Number of Object Types which reflects the variation of the grave goods types. The NOT-value is not very high in the grave K50 (only 5) as the majority of the grave goods are terracottas; this grave thus has a low score in variation. 18 Vickers 2002, 14‑55. 19 Vickers 1979, 7‑9; 2002, 5‑7; Grač 1999, 61, note 2; Sokolova 2003, 761. 20 For a complete publication of the material and its history, see Vickers 1979; 2002. I am truly grateful to Professor Vickers for access to this material and for his kind advice and remarks. 21 Only one kurgan burial (K114) has fragments of an alabaster alabastron placed near the legs of the deceased. It must also rightly be added that the robbed material from the Ashmolean Museum actually compasses a glass alabastron (Vickers 2002, 50), a red-figured lekythos (Vickers 2002, 20) as well as two red-figured askoi (Vickers 2002, 28). 22 Silant’eva 1959, 93‑97. 23 Olkhovsky 1995, 67; Maslennikov 2005, 159. In general, the concept of linking objects and ethnicity is firmly rooted in the Russian scholarly tradition and is to be found in many a publication on demography and material culture, see for example Grač 1981 on the ethnic composition of the population of Archaic Nymphaion and Maslennikov (1978; 1981; 1995; 2005) on the ethnic composition of the Bosporan population in different periods. Furthermore, see Lordkipanidze

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25

26

27 28 29 30 31 32

33 34 35 36

37 38 39

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1981, but also Morgan 2004, 229‑231, especially note 405 with references to recent debates in both western and Russian scholarly approaches). Alekseeva 2003, 962‑963; Avram, Hind & Tsetskhladze 2004, 952. See also p. 949 on the political aims of the Bosporan Kingdom. Braund (2003), however, argues for a non-hostile relationship between Nymphaion, Athens and the Bosporan Kingdom in the late 5th century. The 425/424 tribute list mentions Apollonia and Herakleia as securely identified members from the Black Sea district and evidence is strong for Nymphaion’s membership as well, further attested by Krateros (See ATL 2:A9; ATL 1, 527‑528, ATL 3, 116‑117). It is most likely, however, that many more cities from the Black Sea district were members, as there is a large lacuna in the lists at this particular passage (see also Meiggs 1975³, Map I, (VI); for other possible memberships cities among the Black Sea cities see Kryzhytskyy et al. 2003, 401, with bibliographical references). The situation in Athens at this point was probably not one for sending military aid to far away corners of the Black Sea in protection of some smaller city, and we may speculate whether the last years and final outcome of the Peloponnesian War played a crucial role in the loss of Nymphaion. Later on in the 4th century when the second Athenian Confederacy was established in 377 and her power somewhat restored, Athens surely had no business interfering with the internal politics of the Bosporan Kingdom as the grain supplies from the Black Sea region were in constant demand. Stolba 1998, 608‑609; 2002. Silant’eva 1959, 97. As was the case with the kurgans from the 5th century, the kurgans from the 4th century are all from the publication of Silant’eva 1959. Silant’eva 1959, 98. Silant’eva 1959, fig. 50. See Deppert-Lippitz 1985, 222‑224. It is of course important to bear in mind the aspect of heirlooms in burials especially when considering such valuable grave goods as jewellery of precious metal. Thus, the date of the jewellery can be considerably earlier than the actual deposition in the grave in question (see also Lillios 1999, 237 on heirlooms in archaeological contexts). Silant’eva 1959, 98. Here the lowest possible date is always considered. Silant’eva 1959, 100. Coins in burials in the Greek world can not all relate solely to the rite of Charon’s coin but seems to have taken on many different functions and symbolic meanings as pointed out by both Stevens 1991 and Grinder-Hansen 1991. See also Sourvinou-Inwood 1995, 303‑361 on the appearance and development of the mythological figure of Charon. See, for example, Shepherd 2005, 118‑120. As there is a discrepancy (1:2.5) between the total number of flat ground burials (30) and kurgan burials (12) in the 4th and early 3rd centuries, a final column indicating the numbers with the discrepancy has been added to the diagram. The lekythoi of the 4th and early 3rd centuries are either decorated with palmette decoration or with net pattern which is not surprising as they are by far the most common types of lekythoi in the 4th century (see also Morgan 2004, 192‑193, 249 on the squat lekythoi of the region). Unfortunately, the information on the positions

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Jane Hjarl Petersen of the lekythoi in the burials of the 4th and early 3rd centuries is very sparse and only three pieces have specific indications on position; at right hip, at left arm, at right shoulder (I157, I82 and I135). K102 and K103 are also similar in their grave goods assemblages in both having an iron knife and an iron ring. Furthermore, both burials are in cist graves made up from mud bricks (Silant’eva 1959, 103). Fless 2002, 88‑95; Morgan 2004, 176‑177. Morgan mentions several 4th century cemetery contexts with pelikai from the Taman’ (Morgan 2004, 177‑179). The popularity of strigils and alabastra or other oil containers in 4th century and early Hellenistic period burials is evident from a vast number of cemeteries in the Greek world (Kurtz & Boardman 1971, 101, 208; Houby-Nielsen 1997, 221‑223; Carter et al. 1998, 757‑758). Stevens 1991, 215, 223‑225; Grinder-Hansen 1991, 215‑216. When comparing with the percentages of burials with coins from chosen localities around the Mediterranean in the 4th century given in Stevens’s article, it is interesting to note the 26  % burials with coins from Nymphaion in the same period. This number is markedly higher than Stevens’s examples from Olynthos (10.2  %), Poseidonia (4.5 %), Ampurias (4 %), Argos (10 %) and Myrina (c. 10 %) (Stevens 1991, 223‑224).

Bibliography Alekseeva, Ye.M. 2003. Gorgippia, in: Grammenos & Petropoulos (eds.) 2003, 957‑1005. Avram, A., J. Hind & G.R. Tsetskhladze 2004. The Black Sea Area, in: M.H. Hansen & T.H. Nielsen (eds.), An Inventory of Archaic and Classical Poleis. Oxford, 924‑973. Meritt, B.D., H.T. Wade-Gery & M.F. McGregor 1939. The Athenian tribute lists: Published for the American School of classical Studies at Athens. Vol. I. Cambridge, New Jersey. Meritt, B.D., H.T. Wade-Gery & M.F. McGregor 1949. The Athenian tribute lists: Published for the American School of classical Studies at Athens. Vol. II. Cambridge, New Jersey. Meritt, B.D., H.T. Wade-Gery & M.F. McGregor 1950. The Athenian tribute lists: Published for the American School of classical Studies at Athens. Vol. III. Cambridge, New Jersey. Baranova, T.A., E.A. Chekhova & N.V. Krachun 2001. Conservation of Fragments of Wooden Sarcophagi from Nymphaeum, in: J. Boardman, S.L. Solovyov & G.R. Tsetskhladze (eds.), Northern Pontic Antiquities in the State Hermitage Museum (Colloquia Pontica, 7). Leiden-Boston-Köln, 279‑281. Braund, D. 2003. The Bosporan Kings and Classical Athens: Imagined Breaches in a Cordial Relationship (Aisch. 3.171‑172; [Dem.] 34.36), in: P. Guldager Bilde, J.M. Højte & V.F. Stolba (eds.), The Cauldron of Ariantas. Studies presented to A.N. Ščeglov on the occasion of his 70th birthday. Aarhus, 197‑208. Carter, J.C. et al. 1998. The Chora of Metaponto. The Necropolis. Vols. I-II. Texas.

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Deppert-Lippitz, B. 1985. Griechischer Goldschmuck. Mainz. Fless, F. 2002. Rotfigurige Keramik als Handelsware. Erwerb und Gebrauch attischer Vasen im mediterranen und pontischen Raum während des 4. Jhs. v.Chr. (Internationale Archäologie, 71). Rahden, Westf. Grač, N.L. 1981. K charakteristike etničeskogo sostava naselenija Nimfeja v VI-I vv. do n.e, in: O. Lordkipanidze (ed.), Demografičeskaja situacija v Pričernomor‘e v period Velikoj grečeskoj kolonizacii. Materialy II Vsesoujznogo simpoziuma po drevnej istorii Pričernomor’ja, Cchaltubo 1979. Tbilisi, 260‑267. Grač, N.L. 1999. Nekropol’ Nimfeja. St Peterburg. Grammenos, D.V. & E.K. Petropoulos (eds.) 2003. Ancient Greek Colonies in the Black Sea. Vols. 1‑2. Thessaloniki. Grinder-Hansen, K. 1991. Charon’s Fee in Ancient Greece? – Some Remarks on a well-known Death Rite, Acta Hyperborea 3, 207‑218. Hansen, M.H. & T.H. Nielsen (eds.) 2004. An Inventory of Archaic and Classical Poleis. Oxford. Houby-Nielsen, S. 1997. Grave Gifts, Women, and Conventional Values in Hellenistic Athens, in: P. Bilde, T. Engberg-Pedersen, L. Hannestad & J. Zahle (eds.), Conventional Values of the Hellenistic Greeks (Studies in Hellenistic Civilization, 8). Aarhus, 220‑262. Jijina, N. 1998. Nymphaion Necropolis in Bosporos, in: S. Marchegay, M.T. Le Dinahet & J.F. Salles (eds.), Nécropoles et Pouvoir. Idéologies, pratiques et interpretations. Actes du colloque Théories de la nécropole antique, Lyon 21‑25 janvier 1995. Paris, 199‑216. Kryzhytskyy, S.D. et al. 2003. Olbia – Berezan, in: Grammenos & Petropoulos (eds.) 2003, 389‑505. Kurtz, D.C. & J. Boardman 1971. Greek Burial Customs. London. Lillios, K.T. 1999. Objects of Memory: The Ethnography and Archaeology of Heirlooms, Journal of Archaeological Method and Theory 6.3, 235‑262. Lordkipanidze, O. (ed.) 1981. Demografičeskaja situacija v Pričernomor’e v period Velikoj grečeskoj kolonizacii. Materialy II Vsesojuznogo simpoziuma po drevnej istorii Pričernomor‘ja, Cchaltubo 1979. Tbilisi. Maslennikov, A.A. 1978. Etničeskij sostav naselenija bosporskich gorodov v VI-V vv. do n.e., SovA 1, 24‑37. Maslennikov, A.A. 1981. Naselenie Bosporskogo gosudarstva v VI-II vv. do.n.e. Moskva. Maslennikov, A.A. 1995 Kamennye jaščiki Vostočnogo Kryma (K istorii sel’skogo naselenija Evropejskogo Bospora v VI-I vv. do n.e.) (Bosporskij sbornik, 8). Moskva. Maslennikov, A.A. 2005. The Development of Graeco-Barbarian Contacts in the Chora of the European Bosporus (Sixth-First Centuries), in: D. Braund (ed.), Scythians and Greeks. Cultural Interactions in Scythia, Athens and the Early Roman Empire (sixth century BC – first century AD). Exeter, 153‑180. Meiggs, R. 1975³. The Athenian Empire. Oxford.

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Morgan, C. 2004. Attic Fine Pottery of the Archaic to Hellenistic Periods in Phanagoria (Phanagoria Studies, 1. Colloquia Pontica, 10). Leiden-Boston. Olkhovsky, V.S. 1995. Scythian Culture in the Crimea, in: J. Davis-Kimball, V.A. Bashilov & L.T. Yablonsky (eds.), Nomads of the Eurasian Steppes in the Early Iron Age. Berkeley, 63‑81. Olszaniec, W. 1996. Zrodla pisane do dziejow Nymfajonu, ArcheologiaWarsz 46 [1995], 81‑88. Scholl, T. & V. Zin’ko 1999. Archaeological Map of Nymphaion (Crimea) (Bibliotheca Antiqua, 23). Warszawa. Sheinina, E.G. 2001. Conservation of Plaster-cast Appliqués from the Nymphaeum Sarcophagi, in: J. Boardman, S.L. Solovyov & G.R. Tsetskhladze (eds.), Northern Pontic Antiquities in the State Hermitage Museum (Colloquia Pontica, 7). Leiden-Boston-Köln, 269‑277. Shepherd, G. 2005. Dead men tell no tales: Ethnic Diversity in Sicilian Colonies and the Evidence of the Cemeteries, OJA 24 (2), 115‑136. Silant’eva, L.F. 1959. Nekropol’ Nimfeja, MatIsslA 69, 3‑107. Skudnova, V.M. 1988. Archaičeskij nekropol’ Ol’vii. Leningrad. Smekalov, S.L. 1999. Izmerenie koordinat archeologičeskich pamjatnikov Kerčenskogo poluostrova pri pomošči GPS, in: V.Ju. Zuev et al. (eds.), Bosporskij fenomen: grečeskaja kul’tura na periferii antičnogo mira. Materialy meždunarodnoj naučnoj konferencii. St Peterburg, 365‑366. Smekalov, S.L. 2001. Izmerenie koordinat archeologičeskich pamjatnikov Kerčenskogo poluostrova pri pomošči GPS v 2000 g., in: V.Ju. Zuev et al. (eds.), Bosporskij fenomen: kolonizacija regiona. Formirovanie polisov. Obrazovanie gosudarstva. Materialy mezhdunarodnoj naučnoj konferencii. St Peterburg, 249‑253. Smolyanitskaya, O.L., L.V. Slavosheskaya & V.A Svetlichnaya 2001. Mycological Analysis of the Wooden Sarcophagus from the Necropolis of Nymphaion, in: J. Boardman, S.L Solovyov & G.R. Tsetskhladze (eds.), Northern Pontic Antiquities in the State Hermitage Museum. (Colloquia Pontica, 7). Leiden-Boston-Köln, 265‑268. Sokolova, O.Yu. 2003. Nymphaeum, in: D.V. Grammenos & E.K. Petropoulos (eds.), Ancient Greek Colonies in the Black Sea. Vol. 2. Thessaloniki, 759‑802. Solov’ev, S.L. 2003. Archeologičeskie pamjatniki sel’skoj okrugi i nekropolja Nimfeja. St Peterburg. Solov’ev, S.L. & V.N. Zin’ko, 1995. Research on the Chora of Nymphaion – Study Problems. ArcheologiaWarsz 45 [1994], 73‑78. Sourvinou-Inwood, C. 1995. Reading Greek Death. Oxford. Stevens, S.T. 1991. Charon’s Obol and Other Coins in Ancient Funerary Practice, Phoenix, 45.3, 215‑229. Stolba, V.F. 1998. ΣΑΜΜΑΣ. Zur Prägung eines bosporanischen Tyrannen, in: U. Peter (ed.), Stephanos nomismatikos. Edith Schönert-Geiss zum 65. Geburtstag. Berlin, 601‑611.

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Stolba, V.F. 2002. Problemy numismatiki Nimfeja: neskol’ko zamečanij, Hyp 8.1, 13‑42. Vickers, M. 1979. Scythian Treasures in Oxford. Oxford. Vickers, M. 2002. Scythian and Thracian Treasures in Oxford. Oxford. Zhizhina, N.K. 2001. Wooden Sarcophagi from Nymphaeum, in: J. Boardman, S.L.Solovyov & G.R. Tsetskhladze (eds.), Northern Pontic Antiquities in the State Hermitage Museum (Colloquia Pontica, 7). Leiden-Boston-Köln, 249‑263. Zin’ko, V.N. 2006. Chora of Nymphaeum (6th century BC – 6th century AD), in: P. Guldager Bilde & V.F. Stolba (eds.), Surveying the Greek Chora. The Black Sea Region in a Comparative Perspective (BSS, 4). Aarhus, 289‑308. Abbreviations ATL 1 ATL 2 ATL 3

Meritt, Wade-Gery and McGregor 1939. Meritt, Wade-Gery and McGregor 1949. Meritt, Wade-Gery and McGregor 1950.

Social and Economic Stratification of the Scythians from the Steppe Region Based on Black-glazed Pottery from Burials Nadežda A. Gavriljuk

The reconstruction of the social structures of Archaic societies on the basis of burial data is not a new phenomenon in modern archaeology. Studies using this method primarily developed during the 1980s1 when C. Renfrew introduced the term “social archaeology”, a sub-discipline of archaeology directed at reconstructing social stratification based on the studies of material remains. Features of social structures in nomadic societies were considered in A.M. Chazanov’s works and after these in the works of N.N. Kradin.2 In recent years several international conferences have been devoted to the problems of the social reconstruction of ancient societies and to the study of hierarchical societies in general.3 In particular, the social structures of the early nomads have attracted the attention of many scholars.4 With regards to determining the social positions and/or status of individuals some theories suggest that funeral ceremonies could depend on a variety of factors – sex, the age of the deceased, the season in which the burial took place, conditions of death, ethnocultural imitation, etc.5 At the same time, a given society’s level of economic development as reflected in the funeral evidence is considered a major factor in the determination of a group’s social stratification. The present article considers Steppe Scythian burials of the 5th-4th centuries BC belonging to the so-called third social model, the cattle breeding economy of the nomads and semi-nomads.6 The objects of study will be burials from ordinary necropoleis. These include three groups studied by E.P. Bunjatjan as well as burials belonging to the highest nobility studied by B.M. Mozolevskij and A.I. Terenožkin. While black-glazed pottery was found in the burials of both of these social groups,7 the sets of black-glazed vessels in the burials of the Scythian nobility and in the Royal Scythian tombs have not been taken into account by other researchers. Studies of the social stratification of Scythian societies have instead focused on the absence or presence of specific objects in the burials. Combining the study of the position of certain types of finds and their relationship with the burial ceremonies as well as the sex and age of the deceased allows us to trace not only tendencies in the positions of the grave goods, but also to make suggestions of social and economic character. In the present article only one category of burial inven-

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tory – the black-glazed pottery – is used in the analyses of the burials of the Scythian steppe region. The period of the second half of the 5th and the 4th centuries BC is characterized by a substantial number of Greek objects in Scythian burials in general. Amongst these categories of ancient Greek imports, the pride of place belongs to the transport amphorae, which are included in a wide range of modern archaeological studies. Less attention has been given to the examination of table wares although their value for the study of palaeo-sociological and palaeo-economic phenomena in the life of the population on the northern Black Sea coast is obvious. The object of this study is one of the table wares groups – the black-glazed pottery. The percentages of this type of pottery (about 12 % of the materials of the Sector NGS in Olbia and 36.17 % in the Western Temenos of Olbia) in the layers of the ancient city centres on the northern Black Sea coast, allow us to speak of a considerable reception of such vessels in this area.8 Some of these goods were distributed to the Greeks’ nomadic and semi-nomadic neighbours – the Scythians of the steppe region – through coastal centres. The purpose of this article is to study the reception and distribution of drinking vessels in this region from the end of the 5th-early 4th century BC into the Roman period. This includes the number of vessels, their identification – single finds as well as groups, and the function of specific vessels in the Scythian environment. Through the inventory of the burials, it is possible to draw conclusions not only on the function of the black-glazed vessels in the Scythian environment, but also on the social status of their users. The table wares from Scythian burials of the steppe region have been studied before.9 The appearance, however, of significant, new material in recent years demands additional research. Of the approximately 3,000 excavated Scythian burials in the steppe region known by the end of the 1990s, 1,710 burials contained finds related to this category of utensils. Black-glazed pottery was found in 221 burials which equal about 13 % of the Scythian burials of the steppe region including utensils, taking into account both complete vessels and fragments from published and unpublished burials.10 This article does not attempt to reconsider the existing classifications of black-glazed pottery, which have been included in the publications of the material of the Mediterranean centers such as Kerameikos, Didyma and Olympia.11 Typologies of black-glazed pottery have also been established in the ancient centers of the northern Black Sea coast,12 and it was recently suggested that the classification of black-glazed pottery in Scythia did not correlate with the Mediterranean typology.13 This hypothesis which was neither confirmed by a catalogue nor by high quality illustrations of the finds is not convincing. Finds from Scythian burials with detailed descriptions, mapping, and a catalogue have already been published by the author,14 and in this article only vessels from burials, which have not been looted and with skeletons that have been determined anthropologically are included. The collection has been

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made from material kept in the storage rooms of the IA NAN, the historical museums of Ukraine. Visual examinations of the material from the burials in the Scythian steppe region allowed for a specification of the dating, the functional purpose as well as an increased attention to a number of other formal features of pottery. A list of the burials included is found in a table given at the end of this article. Information included in the table reflects the primary purpose of this article comprising only burials in which the functions of the black-glazed vessels could be determined and where data on the property status of the deceased was accessible. In the present article I do not consider the question of the dating of the vessels nor their reception in the Scythian steppe region – all this I presented at an earlier date.15 Thus, the purpose of this article is to specify and determine the function of black-glazed vessels in the life of the Scythians of the steppe region based on their position in the burials. Furthermore, I also try to use black-glazed pottery as an indicator of the social status of the deceased.

Kylikes and skyphoi Kylikes of various types are represented by 22 vessels from the published burials (Fig. 1.1).16 The earliest black-glazed vessels of Attic manufacture in the burials of the Scythian steppe region are three stemmed kylikes on low, thin stems (one comes from burial 1 in barrow 9 near the village of Vasil’evka, another from Čmyreva Mogila near the village of Bol’šaja Belozerka, and one from the ditch of barrow 158 at the Mamaj-Gora necropolis near the village of Velikaja Znamenka). The vessel from Vasil’evka was found in the northern niche of a male grave, identified as the burial of a soldier together with an amphora foot, a black-glazed skyphos and a hand-made lamp.17 At Čmyreva Mogila a kylix was found in a hollow in the western wall of a lateral tomb together with five silver vessels.18 A.Ju. Alekseev dates this burial to the transition between the first and second quarter of the 5th century BC.19 Similar kylikes found at the Athenian Agora are dated to 525-450 BC.20 Instead of stemless kylikes the term bolsal is now more common in Russian literature although sometimes bowl, kotyle or low skyphos is used. Bolsals are represented by two or three vessels from burials near the village of Zelenoe (barrow 2, burial 3 at Brilevka exhibited at the Cherson State Museum) and from barrow 14, burial 1 at the Rogačik burial ground as well as from the Melitopol’ Barrow).21 The form of the kylix from Brilevka is similar to a kylix from a collection of imported pottery from Kyrenaika dated tothe first half of the 4th century BC.22 The varieties of this type of vessel which occur among the material from the Athenian Agora suggest multiple manufacturers working in the late 5th century.23 Similarities in form and ornament occur in the vessels from burials 3/1992 and 8/1992 in the necropolis of Olbia where the burials are dated to

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Fig. 1. Kylikes: 1: Vasil’evka 9/1 2: L’vovo 18/1 (cup-kantharos) 3: Kut 7/9 (cup-skyphos)

the last quarter of the 5th century BC.24 In the necropolis of Panskoe I such vessels occur in tombs 13, 40 and tomb 1 of barrow 12 which are dated to the first quarter of the 5th century BC.25 They are thought to have arrived on the northern Black Sea coast in the last quarter of the 5th century BC and to have stopped sometime in the second quarter of the 4th century BC.26 Burial 3 near the village Zelenoe consisted of two chambers in which were buried a man with weapons and defensive equipment (chamber 1) and

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a woman with silver adornments and rich accompanying artifacts (chamber 2). In the male burial the kylix (bolsal) was positioned near his right hand together with red-clay lekythoi. In the female burial the kylix (bolsal) stood at the entrance to the burial chamber together with a wooden dish for sacrificial food, a knife and a hand-mill with a wooden quern. This is a unique case of a black-glazed vessel found in a female burial which has not lost its function as a drinking vessel. Probably this can be explained on the basis of the richness of the burial which also included a wooden casket with a set of spindles, a mirror, an oinochoe, a spindle whorl, red-figured lekythoi, a wooden pyxis and an aw near the deceased’s shoulder l.27 In the Melitopol’ Barrow the kylikes (bolsals) were found near the southeastern wall of the chamber together with fragments of a cover from a lekanis. This tomb is dated to the transition between the third and fourth quarters of the 4th century BC.28

Heavy walled cup-skyphoi Heavy walled cup-skyphoi are represented by 12 vessels, the majority of which have stamped ornaments of palmette crosses on the internal surface of the bottom (these come respectively from hthe Solocha Barrow; the Solocha group near the village Velikaja Znamenka, Zaporož’e region; barrow 75, burial 3 from the Trechbratnyj Barrow in Eastern Crimea; barrow 14, burial 1 from the Rogačik burial ground; barrow 7, burial 9 near the village Kut in the Dnepropetrovsk region; barrow 5, the main burial near the village Čkalovka in the Dnepropetrovsk region, and barrow 4, burial 1 near the village Pervomaevka in the Cherson region).29 The palmette ornaments of the last vessel are framed by two concentric circles the space between them filled by ovules. The four palmettes in the ornamentation of the vessels from the Solocha Barrow are located around a ring filled with ovules.30 The same ornament is found on the bottom of a heavy walled cup-skyphos from barrow 6, burial 2 near Dneprorudnyj in the Zaporož’e region.31 Only the vessel from barrow 4, burial 3 in the Nosaki group near the village Balki in the Zaporož’e region was undecorated.32 A heavy walled cupskyphos from barrow 1, burial 4 near the village Ol’gino in the Chersonese region was also undecorated; however, on the pallet was the graffito ΔΔΙΙΙ.33 S.S. Bessonova counts this graffito as a digital record.34 On the bottom of the vessel from barrow 4, burial 1 near the village of Plavni in the Odessa region a stamped ornament with six palmettes connected by arches was found.35 The internal surface of the bottom of a cup-skyphos from barrow 3, burial 1 near the village Bogdanovka in the Chersonese region was decorated with two concentric circles the interval between them filled with ovules and surrounded by seven palmettes. 36 Cup-skyphoi with heavy rims have analogies in the material from the Athenian Agora. They came into circulation after 420 BC and were used until 380

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BC.37 They have been found in the necropoleis of Istros and Olynthos.38 In the material from Apollonia, the vessels belong to type 7 dated to the middle of the 4th century BC.39 The cup-skyphos with heavy rim is a common find among the material of the northern Black Sea coast. The heavy walled skyphos with “a cast rim” has been found in material from the family – patrimonial site in the Olbian necropolis where it is dated to about 380 BC.40 In the necropolis of Panskoe I such vessels constitute the most numerous type of skyphos.41 Five vessels have been found in the material from the burial ground Nikolaevka, in the lower Dniestr region.42 Fragments of two heavy walled cup-skyphoi occur among the material from the Kozyrka II settlement.43 In the material of the Panskoe I necropolis earlier and later heavy walled cup-skyphoi are allocated as the platen.44 The majority of the heavy walled cup-skyphoi from Scythian steppe region burials, however, are dated to within the limits of the first half of the 4th century BC.

Light walled cup-skyphoi Light walled cup-skyphoi (Nos. 19‑22) occur in four burials. In barrow 18, burial 1 near the village L’vovo (Fig. 1.2), the vessel stood separately from the other vessels near the right shoulder of the buried woman. At her feet a grey-ware jug with a spindle whorl and a hand-made pot were found.45 In a male burial from barrow 6 near the settlement of Lenino (Crimea), a cupskyphos stood in the northeastern corner of the chamber near an amphora.46 The vessel from L’vovo had stamped ornaments of a wide circle of rouletting and four palmettes in a cross at the center. At the Athenian Agora the earliest finds of light walled cup-skyphoi with stamped ornaments are found in layers of the third quarter of the 5th century BC. At this stage, however, they cannot be dated on the basis of their ornamentation which type only appeared in the second quarter of the 4th century BC. A small number of light walled cup-skyphoi were produced after 375 BC.47 Nevertheless, they are frequently found at ancient sites on the northern Black Sea coast. Ju.I. Kozub ascribes such vessels to type 5 of the material from the Olbian necropolis and dates them to the first half of the 4th-early 3rd century BC.48 V.A. Papanova dates these vessels to the first third of the 4th century BC.49 In the necropolis of Panskoe I, the nearest analogy to the vessels described above is skyphos no. 68 which is dated to the second quarter of the 4th century BC. Some researchers believe that they occurred in the northern Black Sea coastal areas until the end of the 4th century BC. Apparently, however, E.Ja. Rogov and I.V. Tunkina were correct in suggesting that the reception of such vessels into the markets of the Black Sea coast stopped no later than the middle of the 4th century BC.50 It was possible to determine the positions of the cup-skyphoi in 17 barrows. Only one vessel from barrow 15 appears to have come from the remains of a funerary feast, having been found in the western sector of the ditch around the

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barrow.51 The others were found inside the barrows: two in the filling of the entrances, in a male burial near the village Bogdanovka and in a female burial near the village Ol’govka.52 13 were found inside the burial chambers. In the six male burials, the vessels are found in groups of artifacts connected with drinking, for example with an amphora, cup-skyphos and bronze kyathos in the Trechbratnij Barrow.53 In the female burials, they are found together with needlework, perfumery or with a guessing. For example, in the female burial 1 from barrow 4 near the village Plavni, a cup-skyphos was found in the southwestern corner of the burial chamber together with a mirror, a hand-made vessel and a spindle whorl. In barrow 75 of the Solocha group a cup-skyphos stood near the feet of the deceased together with a spindle whorl, pieces of sulfur and the remains of a wooden object (a pyxis?).54 In barrow 7, burial 9 near the village of Kut, a skyphos was found south of the skull of the deceased together with two spindle whorls, wooden pyxides and a fragment of a bone type-setting spindle.55 In barrow 5, burial 1 near the village of Čkalovka, a skyphos stood behind the head of the buried woman on a patch of lime stained ground together with two spindle whorls.56 Sometimes, often in children’s burials, skyphoi stood separately e.g. in a headboard (barrow 4, burial 1 near the village of Pervomaevka), or at the left shoulder (barrow 20 at the Ak-Taš burial ground; barrow 6, burial 2 (soldier from Dneprorudnyj). Black-glazed cup-skyphoi are also found in the burials of the Scythian elite, as a rule together with silver vessels. For example, in the Solocha Barrow a black-glazed cup-skyphos was found at the right hand of skeleton B among silver vessels. In the Čmyreva tomb a cup-skyphos was found in a hollow in the western wall of the tomb together with five silver vessels. A skyphos from a rich man’s burial (barrow 1, burial 1 near Vasil’evka) was found in a hollow together with an amphora, a skyphos and a hand-made lamp, all of silver.

Cup-kantharoi Cup-kantharoi from the published burials of the Scythian steppe region are represented by twenty-one vessels.57 These are vessels with the body of a kantharos, but with horizontal handles similar to a skyphos, for example vessels from barrow 13, group 1, burial 1 near the village of Kapulovka, together with others from barrow 11, burial 4 and burial 2, the Višnevaja tombs of the Rogačik burial ground near the village of Gjunovka in the Zaporož’e region and from barrow 45 of the Ak-Taš burial ground near the village of Semenovka in Crimea.58 Some of the cup-kantharoi had stamped ornamentation. As a rule this takes the form of four palmettes connected by arches surrounded by two or three circles of rouletting (eight vessels from barrow 4, burial 2 Il’inka in the Zaporož’e region (Fig. 2.4), from barrow 1, group 5, burial 4 at Pervomaevka in the Cherson region from barrow 1, group 1, burial 1 at Kapulovka, from barrow 7, burial 3 at Кut, from barrow 4, burial 2 at Vladimirovka in Dnepro-

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Fig. 2. Kantharoi – kylikes (cup-kantharoi): 1: Mamaj-Gora, 143/2 2: Kapulovka 1, 13/1 3: Vladimirovka (Crimea) 1

4: Il’inka 4/2 5: Vinogradovo 13/2 6: Il’inka 4/6

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petrovsk the region, from barrow 13, burial 2 at Vinogradovo and from burials 1 and 4 at Vladimirovka in the Crimea (Figs. 2.3, 2.5)). The ornamentation of the cup-kantharos from barrow 4, burial 6 near the village Il’inka consisted of six palmettes connected by arches (Fig. 2.6). One vessel had been decorated on the bottom with an ornament consisting of two circles of rouletting (barrow 143, burial 2 at the Mamaj-Gora necropolis (Fig. 2.1).59 The ornamentation of the other cup-kantharoi was simpler: concentric circles of rouletting (for example items from. barrow 4, group 5, burial 3 from Pervomaevka). On the cup-kantharos from Ak-Taš burial ground (barrow 40, burial 1 and barrow 52, burial 1) a double circle of rouletting is found. Decoration in the form of vertical ribbing on the body of the vessel is not characteristic for the cup-kantharoi. Only two vessels were decorated like this: the vessel from barrow 21, burial 4 near the village of Kut and the one from barrow 4, burial 1 of the Ostraja Mogila.60 Cup-kantharoi with this type of decoration occur in burials dated to the third quarter of the 4th century BC. Similar vessels were found in the ancient settlements of the northern Black Sea coast. They are similar to the type 10 kylix of Ivanov’s classification dated from the middle to the second half of the 4th century BC. The form of the cup-kantharos from burial 4 at the Nikolaevka burial ground was similar to the form of a vessel from barrow 4, burial 2 near the village of Il’inka.61 These are kylikes of type 9 according to Ivanov’s classification dated to the middle or the third quarter of the 4th century BC.62 The cup-kantharos from the material of the family necropolis of Olbia dates to the third quarter of the 4th century BC.63 The cup-kantharos with moulded rim from barrow 43 in the necropolis of Panskoe I is dated to the third quarter of the 4th century BC.64 The production of vessels in this series began in Attica at the beginning of the 4th century BC and continued for three quarters of a century. The nearest Athenian analogies to the described vessels in terms of shape are vessels nos. 652‑653 dated to around 380‑350 BC.66. Vessels decorated with four to six palmettes connected by arches within rouletting appeared in Attica at the end of the 5th century BC and continued to be produced throughout the entire 4th century. The cup-kantharos from barrow 1, burial 9 at Kamenka-Dneprovskaja costs the private residence in this group of ceramic.67 In Antiquity a ball was placed within the rather massive moulded rim of this vessel creating a sound similar to a child’s rattle when shaken. This unique rattling vessel from the Scythian burials of the steppe region was found by the author in the storage of the Institute of archaeology (NAS) of Ukraine. On the basis of its shape the vessel is dated to the third quarter of the 4th century BC. This date is not contradicted by the dating of the ornamentation on the bottom of the vessel.68 The earliest rattling cups were made in Attic workshops. In the hollow stems of such vessels pre-fired ceramic balls were placed.69 In the northern Black Sea coastal areas rattling vessels are known from Nymphaion.70 Ceramic balls were placed inside the rims of cup-kantharoi and kantharoi during the 4th

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century BC. There are some assumptions as to the function of such vessels, perhaps they were used. for games during a festival or for ritual purposes. In our Scythian burial the rattling vessel was found on the right side of the deceased, next to the funeral stretcher, apart from other groups of vessels connected with the consumption of food or drink. In the right hand of the dead woman there was a mirror. The burial rituals of rich Scythians are know to have involved rattling in order to scare away malicious spirits.71 The cupkantharos from barrow 1, burial 9 at Kamenka-Dneprovskaja may have served this function. It was possible to determine the position of sixteen cup-kantharoi in the barrows. Four came from male burials: the vessel from barrow 13, group 1, burial 1 of the Kapulovka burial ground was found together with an amphora and a tray. The vessel from barrow 4, burial 2 at Il’inka stood together with a silver kylix and an amphora. The cup-kantharos from barrow 4, burial 6, that of a child, at Il’inka was found together with a quiver and arrows. The vessel from barrow 13, burial 1 at Vinogradovo was found at the entrance to the funeral chamber. The majority of the cup-kantharoi from male burials comes from sets of vessels connected with drinking. These are burials of warriors. The warrior in barrow 4 at Il’inka, who was buried with a silver vessel and other rich artefacts, possibly belonged to the military elite. There are only two female burials with cup-kantharoi: in barrow 2, group 2, burial 1 near Kapulovka the vessel stood near the head of the deceased. Close to it was found an iron needle as well as a clay spindle whorl. In barrow 4, burial 1 of the Ostraja Mogila group a ribbed cup-kantharos was found at the left hand of the dead woman together with a mirror. Thus, cup-kantharoi as well as kylikes (skyphoi) are grouped with spindle whorls and mirrors in female burials. Two cup-kantharoi were found in children’s burials. One vessel from a burial in a barrow at Vladimirovka in Crimea was found together with a bead, a suspension bracket of Egyptian faience, a fragment of an iron bracelet, and a hand-made pot. The second one was found together with two hand-made pots. Three cup-kantharoi come from double burials. In burial 143 of the MamajGora burial ground, one of them stood near the heads of the skeletons together with a grey-clay jug and a hand-made pot. In the double child burial in barrow 7, burial 3 near the village of Kut a second vessel stood near to the remains of a wooden pyxis, a flat stone for grinding, and a bronze pin. In barrow 21, burial 4 at the same site a cup-kantharos from the looted double burial were found in the filling of the chamber. Thus, cup-kantharoi as well as kylikes (skyphoi) are grouped with objects connected to drinking in male burials. In female burials they are grouped with objects connected to personal toilette or to ritual actions. On the basis of these observations, it is possible to define the sex of the deceased in children’s burials as well as in looted burials.

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Kantharoi Kantharoi from burials of the Scythian steppe region are represented by a collection of 35 vessels.72 The majority of these vessels have stocky bodies, moulded rims, and a short foot. The vertically set handles are rectangular in section, and their horizontal edges form a uniform line with the rim. A third of the kantharos from barrow 13, burial 4 from the burial ground Butor 1 (Fig. 3.2) was unslipped.73 The slip of the kantharos from barrow 4, burial 1 in the Solocha group was bright red as a result of misfiring.74 Such defects are formed when firing a large numbers of vessels at the same time. The majority of the kantharoi are undecorated, for example vessels from barrow 3, burial 2 near the village of Otradnoe (Fig.  3.4), from barrow 2, burial 8 near the village of Nečajannoe, from a barrow near the village of Voznesenovka, and from barrow 2, burial 1 near the village of Pljuščevka in the Nikolaev region.75 Kantharoi came from barrow 1, burial 3 in the Lis’ja Mogila group, from the looted burial in chamber 5 in the Čertomlyk Barrow, from barrow 31, burial 1, barrow 33, burial 1, and barrow 85, burial 2 at the Vysšetarasovka burial ground, from barrow 5 and barrow 12, burial 2 at the burial ground near the village of Vladimirovka, barrow 4, group 2, burials 1 and 2 in the Nikopol’ barrow field and from Scythian burials in the steppe zone on the right bank of the Dnieper River.76 Only six burials in the steppe zone on the left bank of the Dnieper River contained kantharoi: barrow 19, burial 1 of the at the Rogačik barrow field, barrow 26, burial 1 near the village of Širokoe, barrow 2, burial 2 at the village of Vil’na Ukraina, burials 1 and 2 at the village of Novomichajlovka, and barrow 8, burials 1 and 2 near the village of Černjanka in the Cherson region.77 Some kantharoi were located in Crimea: barrow 13, burial 1 at a settlement of Lenino, barrow 18, burial 1 at the village of Astanino, and barrow 3, burial 1 at the village of Oktjabr’.78 One kantharos was found on altar no. 2 at the burial ground of Kanfarka on the island of Chortica.79 Like the kylikes (skyphoi), kantharoi were decorated with stamps located on the internal floor of the base. The groups of stamped ornamentation, often circles executed by rouletting, are generally repetitious. The kantharos from barrow 20, double burial 4 at the Mamaj-Gora necropolis was decorated with three circles executed by short slanting notches [=rouletting?] on the internal surface similar to the ornamentation in the bottom of the kantharos from burial 10/1992 from the Olbian necropolis. It dates to 340‑325 BC.80 Three circles decorate the internal surface of the bottom of a kantharos from burial 3, from a barrow at the village of Vladimirovka, Crimea. A decorationof two circles is found on the kantharos from barrow 2, group 5, burial 2 at the village of Kovalevka in the Nikolaev region (Fig. 3.1).81 Three concentric circles made up from notches decorated a kantharos with ribbed body from barrow 1, burial 2 near the village of Pervomaevka (Fig. 3.3). The following kantharoi were stamped with four palmettes on the bottom: the vessel from barrow 69, group 2, burial 1 at the village of Širokoe, another

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Fig. 3. Kantharoi: 1: Kovalevka 5, 2/2 2: Butor 1, 13/4 3: Gajmanovo Pole, 27/4

4: Otradnoe 3/2 5: Širokoe, Ostraja Mogila, 4/1 6: Pervomaevka 6, 1/2

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from barrow 4, burial 1 at the village of Branoe Pole, and two from barrow 8, burials 1 and 2 at the necropolis near the village of Černjanka respectively. The kantharoi with ribbed exterior are considered to be of most recent date. The ribbed decoration on the vessel from barrow 1, group 6, burial 2 at Pervomaevka had short strokes located under the corner of each other under the handles (Fig. 3.6). The foot of a kantharos with ribbed exterior from barrow 27, female burial 4 at the Gajmanovo Pole necropolis (Fig. 3.3) has been broken off. The vessel from barrow 22, burial 9 at the Kut necropolis was covered by a delicate olive color and showed traces of repairs. In the material from the Athenian Agora, kantharoi with ribbed bodies have been found in layers of the second quarter of the 4th century BC; however, they continued in use until the end of the same century and even into the 3rd century BC.82 S. Rotroff dates the”stocky ribbed classical kantharoi” to the last quarter of the 4th century BC.83 During the same period and slightly later, at the beginning of the 3rd century BC, they appear in the Scythian burials of the steppe region. Kantharoi with West Slope decoration are represented by vessels from two Scythian burials, both vessels related to the “garland group of ornaments.” The kantharos from barrow 24, burial 1 at Ak-Taš necropolis was decorated with a garland on the lip and the base executed with a diluted, white paint. The same paint was used to execute the inscription ЕКАТНΣ located on the neck. The closest parallels to the decoration on the vessel from the Ak-Taš necropolis are the garlands on the kantharoi from the Vatican G 116 group produced in the first quarter of the 3rd century BC.84 The kantharos with ribbed exterior and garland decoration from barrow 2, burial 1 at the village of Pljuščevka in the Nikolaev region has parallels in the material from the Athenian Agora dated to the second quarter of the 4th century BC.85 The decoration on the vessel from Pljuščevka is close to the flattened garlands which were popular in the 4th century BC. On the basis of both form and decoration, such vessels are dated to the last quarter of the 4th century BC.86 Scythian burials in which kantharoi are found are either female or children’s burials. None of the intact burials with kantharoi are male. In two cases, Lenino and Branoe Pole, kantharoi in the female burials were not accompanied by other finds. In all other burials, kantharoi were deposited with objects connected with spinning, sewing or magic: e.g. two leaden spindle whorls and iron needles from Otradnoe, spindle whorls and needles from barrow 20 at Mamaj-Gora, spindle whorls and needles from Vysšetarasovka, spindle whorls from barrow 22 at the village of Кut, spindle whorls and an awl from a barrow at the village of Vladimirovka in Crimea, a stone spindle whorl from barrow 24 at the Ak-Taš necropolis, and a spindle whorl from barrow 2 at the village of Vil’na Ukraina. Finds are also connected to women’s toilettes: e.g. a mirror with a bronze handle from barrow 20 at the Mamaj-Gora necropolis, a mirror and a piece of ochre from barrow 31 at Vysšetarasovka, a mirror from bar-

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row 2 near Vil’na Ukraina, and an amphora-shaped bead from barrow 27 at Gajmanovo Pole. Five kantharoi occur in children’s burials at barrow 1, burial 2, group Lis’ja Mogila at Ordžonikidze; barrow 26, group 2, burial 1 at Širokoe; barrow 4, burial 1 at the Solocha group; barrow 85, burial 2 at Vysšetarasovka; and barrow 3, burial 1 at Oktjabr’. All of them were found in the vicinity of the heads of the buried except in barrow 12, burial 2 at the village of Vladimirovka, where the kantharos stood by the deceased’s hip. As in the female burials, kantharoi from children’s burials occur with artifacts connected with spinning and sewing – e.g. a spindle whorl from barrow 85, burial 2 at the village of Vysšetarasovka – or with groups of jewelry – e.g. a golden earring, a bead and a bracelet from a barrow of the Solocha group and a bronze earring from barrow 85 at the village of Vysšetarasovka. Unlike cup-kantharoi and kylikes (skyphoi), kantharoi are rarely found at Scythian sites near the Dnieper River. There were only 53 black-glazed fragments, mainly kantharoi and bowls, out of the total 174 fragments of table wares from the entire period of occupation of the fortified Kamenskoe settlement.87 Of these, only 28 fragments could possibly belong to kantharoi. Only one fragment of a black-glazed kantharos was found at the settlement of Lysaja Gora.

Saltcellars Saltcellars are represented by finds from 19 Scythian burials of the steppe region (Fig. 4). They are small, open vessels with inward-turned rims (Fig. 4.5). S. Rotroff names both shallow and deep cellars.88 Three saltcellars were decorated: four palmettes were seen on the saltcellar from barrow 4, burial 2, three palmettes were seen on the vessel from barrow 40, burial 2 at Vysšetarasovka. Deep vessels of a small size with inverted rims were found in six rich burials. All of these have a stamped decoration: five palmettes on the vessels from barrow 4, burial 2 and barrow 1, group 22, the burial 1 at village of Kapulovka (Fig. 4.7, six palmettes on the vessel from barrow 2, group 2, burial 2 at Pervomaevka (Fig. 4.1. Vessels of this type occur in female burials with gold jewelry. Black-glazed plates occur in burials of the same social layer at Vyvodovo 49/2 (Fig. 4.4), Butor 1 4/2 (Fig. 4.3) and Mamaj-Gora 16/1. Saltcellars (Bowls) with out-turned rims, S. Rotroff’s classical type, and with complex stamped decoration occur in burials of the highest nobility and in the royal barrows.89 Fine examples are the saltcellars (bowls) from the female burial at Tovsta Mogyla, from chamber 5 at Čertomlyk and from a barrow, group 4, burial 3 at Nosaki (Figs. 6.2, 6.6, and 6.8). The nearest parallels are bowls of type 1 from the settlement of Čajka.90 All finds of saltcellars and plates from female or children’s burials are related to objects connected with magic or needlework.

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Fig. 4. Saltcellars, bowls and plates: 1: Pervomaevka 2, 2/2 (echinus bowl) 2: Tolstaja Mogila 3: Butor 1, 4/2 (not a plate) 4: Vyvodovo 49/2

5: Vysšetarasovka 40/2 6: Čertomlyk, chamber 5 (not out-turned rim) 7: Kapulovka, 22, 1/1 (bowl) 8: Nosaki 4/3

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Summary The black-glazed kylikes (skyphoi) and kantharoi presented above represent the entire inventory of these types of vessels from the Scythian burials of the steppe region. The first black-glazed vessels, the stemmed kylikes, appear in the Scythian steppe around the middle of the 5th century BC. However, they appear as isolated instances in the steppe and forest-steppe zones of the northern Black Sea coast as the Scythians were presumably introduced to the new world of trade goods. From the last quarter of the 5th century BC bolsals appear in the Scythian regions of the northern Black Sea coast. These finds in the Scythian burials of the steppe region, however, are still isolated. Only heavy walled cup-skyphoi come into the Scythian steppe region on a regular basis. They appeared in Scythia in the last quarter of the 5th century BC, and from the first half of the 4th century BC they became more common. Most likely the intermediaries in the distribution of this Attic production were inhabitants of the northern Black Sea coastal centers. Even though they are quite common at other centers, light walled skyphoi appeared in the Scythian steppe region in isolated instances during a short period of time in the first half of the 4th century BC. According to the evidence from the settlement and necropolis of Panskoe I, the reception of these vessels into the markets of the Black Sea coast stopped no later than the middle of the 4th century BC.91 Black-glazed cup-kantharoi appear in the Athenian Agora from the middle of the 4th century BC. In the Scythian burials of the steppe region they first turn up around the middle or third quarter of the 4th century BC. Cup-kantharoi with ribbed bodies seem to have first appeared later. On the basis of the material from the Athenian Agora, their manufacture is estimated to begin in the third quarter of the 4th century BC. Hence, in Scythian burials they most likely began to be included at the end of the 4th century BC. The quantity and localization of burials with cup-kantharoi suggest that such vessels came into the region in batches. Kantharoi with moulded rims appeared in the 5th century BC judging from the material of the Athenian Agora, but the main period of their distribution was the 4th century BC. In the steppe zone of the northern Black Sea coast, these vessels appear from the middle of the 4th century BC and occur during the whole of the second half of the century. Later, kantharoi with ribbed bodies appear. In the Athenian Agora they have been found in layers of the second quarter of the 4th century BC and the beginning of the 3rd century BC, but they continue to be found in layers from the end of the century and even later.92 S. Rotroff dates them to the last quarter of the 4th century BC. Two kantharoi from the Scythian burials of the steppe region were decorated in West Slope style. S. Rotroff ascribes this style to the group of ornaments with garlands. The decoration on the vessel from the Ak-Taš necropolis is the closest to the

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garlands on the kantharoi of the Vatican G 116 group made in the first quarter of the 3rd century BC.93 The decoration on a vessel from Pljuščevka finds its closest parallel in garlands which were popular in the last quarter of the 4th century BC. Thus, the latest black-glazed Attic pottery to enter into Scythia belongs to the last quarter of the 4th or the beginning of the 3rd century BC. This large collection of kantharoi from the Scythian burials of the steppe region allows us to speak of a massive import of black-glazed vessels of this type. By the end of the 4th century BC, however, the number of kantharoi arriving in Scythia was reduced. The last type was, most likely, the group of kantharoi with ribbed bodies.

On the role of the ancient centers of the northern Black Sea coast Olbia and the Bosporan cities played an intermediary role in the trade of Attic black-glazed pottery. A plenty testifies to it black-glazed vessels with graffiti not only a condition of vessels in burials (many of them it is strong abrasion) but also rather. There is, however, no widespread distribution of Greek writing in the Scythian environment. Black-glazed vessels seem to have appeared in the ancient city-centers of the northern Black Sea coast in massive quantities in the early period. S.S. Bessonova mentions a concentration of black-glazed vessels with graffito in a southern sub zone of the steppe and in Crimea where there were close trade and exchange connections between Scythians and Greeks. Bessonova suggests that vessels with inscriptions were highly valued because of the magic properties of the Greek letters.94 The reception of black-glazed vessels into Scythia can be viewed as a result of constant trade and exchange and priests could have been engaged in these activities. Mapping the basic types of black-glazed pottery allows for a discussion of their distribution.95 In general, the majority of the black-glazed vessels went to the inhabitants of the geographical and economic region of Kamenskoe. The black-glazed kylikes (skyphoi) are found all over the Scythian steppe region.The area of the greatest distribution of heavy walled cup-skyphoi, however, is the steppe area of the left bank of the Dnieper River (the region of Kamenskoe). Probably, heavy walled cup-skyphoi decorated with four palmettes were introduced to the Scythians of the steppe area on the left bank of the Dnieper River in the first half of the 4th century BC. Six such vessels were found in geographical proximity at Solocha, Rogačik, Pervomaevka, Dneprorudnyj and Ol’gino. The distribution of the cup-kantharoi testifies to the restriction of these vessels to the Kamenka area, the Kapulovka settlements as well as to Crimea. Burials with kantharoi are distributed equally all over the Scythian steppe region. The largest bulk of kantharoi, however, went to the inhabitants on the right bank of the Dnieper River in the geographical and economic region of Kapulovskoe.

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Function of black-glazed vessels in the life of the Scythians of the steppe region The examination of the position of the kylikes (skyphoi) in male, female and children’s burials allows for an evaluation of a change in their functions. Originally, black-glazed vessels were used by men for drinking. Thus, in all male burials kylikes (skyphoi) and cup-kantharoi are found in burial inventories connected with food or drink. Furthermore, it is important to note that the majority of vessels from male burials have a high quality slip and are found in good condition, without repairs or fractures. In female burials kylikes (skyphoi), cup-kantharoi and kantharoi are found in burials together with spindles, spindle whorls and mirrors which suggests that they were not associated with drinking. All the vessels from female burials are repaired or have their handles or feet broken off. It would appear that broken vessels for drinking were used by women for the storage of spindle whorls, needles, spindles, and occasionally beads. This characteristic is repeated in children’s burials. Sometimes it is possible to define a ritual or magic use of the black-glazed vessels, e.g. scaring away malicious spirits such as the rattling vessel from Kamenka-Dneprovskaja. Finds of black-glazed vessels together with magic objects such as mirrors or spindles can testify to their ritual use. Through the example of the black-glazed vessels from Scythian burials, it is possible to track functional changes based on their occurrence in different environments. In the beginning, black-glazed pottery was used by the inhabitants of the coastal centers. Then it spread to the Scythian men who used it for drinking. Only later was the pottery used by women for needlework and in rituals. Most likely, these changes occurred within the limits of one generation.

Social and economic stratification of Scythian burials with black-glazed pottery Apparently, the main recipients of these vessels were the “middle class”, the representatives of the Scythian aristocracy who were carrying out administrative functions (model 3 below) and made up 15‑20 % of the population of the Scythian steppe region.96 It is possible to further divide the social stratification of the recipients of the black-glazed vessels into three social layers. 1. Vessels for drinking were found in the burials of Scythians, often soldiers. Thirteen kylikes (skyphoi) and cup-kantharoi occur in male burials of the Scythian steppe region. Apart from vessels for drinking, weapons are also found in these burials. In female burials of this social layer, the occurrence of broken and/or repaired kantharoi and kylikes (skyphoi) reflect a secondary use. 2. Some vessels for drinking are found in burials with defensive equipment. Here, as a rule, black-glazed vessels appear with silver vessels for drinking. Herodotus mentioned soldiers who “have killed many husbands” and

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have two kylikes. Notably, in burials of women with a rich inventory and a small amount of gold jewelry, salt cellars often occur. 3. Black-glazed vessels for drinking are not characteristic for the burials of the highest Scythian elite. The only black-glazed kylikes (skyphoi) in this type of burial appeared with a set of silver vessels in Solocha. Another kylix (skyphos) was found in a niche of Čmyreva Mogila. In female burials of this rank, salt cellars with elaborate stamped decoration occur e.g. in a barrow of the Nosaki group at Tovsta Mogyla.

Conclusion The first black-glazed vessels, stemmed kylikes, appear in the Scythian steppe region in the middle of the 5th century BC. From the last quarter of the 5th century BC, bolsals appear in the Scythian region of the northern Black Sea coast. In the last quarter of the 5th or first half of the 4th centuries BC, kylikes (skyphoi) of various types began to be used in the steppe region. From the middle of the 4th century BC, various types of kantharoi appeared in the steppe zone all through the second half of the century. Kantharoi and cup-kantharoi with ribbed bodies appeared in the second quarter of the 4th century BC and the beginning of the 3rd century BC. They continue to be found in layers of the end of that century and even later. From the last quarter of the 4th century BC up to the first quarter of the 3rd century BC, kantharoi decorated in the West-Slope style are found in the steppe region. In the 5th century BC the reception of black-glazed vessels in the Scythian steppe region had an individual character. From the first half of the 4th century BC on, small batches of kylikes (skyphoi) are produced, not in Attica, but most likely in the centers of the northern Black Sea coast. Priests may have played a role in the establishment of such production by their engagement in the “transferring” of the magic of these objects. The quantity and distribution of burials with cup-kantharoi also allow us to speak of small batches of these vessels. As a rule, vessels from female burials have obvious damage (handles are broken off, the slip is shabby). This fact testifies to an essential prolongation of the use of black-glazed vessels in the form of a secondary use within the female sphere. As has been correctly noticed by B.N. Mozolevskij, it is necessary to take into account the probably prolonged “life-span” when using black-glazed pottery to date Scythian burials.97 The main recipients of the black-glazed vessels were the representatives of the Scythian aristocracy making up 15‑20 % of the population of the Scythian steppe region,98 but finds of this nature are not characteristic for the burials of the highest Scythian elite. Furthermore, this analysis of burials with blackglazed vessels has resulted in the definition of three social layers of recipients. Consequently, I suggest that it is possible to use black-glazed vessels as social indicators.

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Notes 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

For example, Masson 1976; Gening 1984; Gibson 1984; Renfrew 1984. Chazanov 1975; 2000; Kradin 2002b. Kradin 2000; Kradin 2002a. Kradin, 2005, 237‑250. For example, Binford 1971. Gavriljuk 2000, 44‑45. Bunjatjan 1978; Terenožkin & Mozolevskij 1988. Gavriljuk 2006, 195, pl. 1. Gavriljuk 1989. Gavriljuk 1999, 60‑61, 414. Sparkes & Talcott 1970; for the later periods see see Rotroff 1997. Papanova 2000; Rogov & Tunkina 1998; Monachov & Rogov 1990. Fialko 2005; 2006. Gavriljuk 2006. Gavriluk 2006, 151-181. Gavriljuk 2006, nos. 1‑22. Grebennikov & Rebedailo 1991,120, 121, fig. 1.11. ОАК for 1909, 1913, 128. Alekseev 1991, 47. Sparkes & Talcott 1970, nos. 398‑413. Evdokimov et al. 1983, 27; Fialko 2004, 89, fig.  1.5; Terenožkin & Mozolevskij 1988, 30. Elrashedy 2002, pl. 99. Sparkes & Talcott 1970, 107, nos. 541, 557. Papanova 2000, 200, fig. 1ú, 3, а. Monachov & Rogov 1990, 140,141, pls. 3.57, 4.53, 4.56. Rogov & Tunkina 1998, 163. Evdokimov et al. 1983, 270. Terenožkin & Mozolevskij 1988, 157. Mancevič 1987, 23, 94,96, fig. 3.1; Meljukova 1999, 69; Bessonova 1973, 247; Fialko 2004, 88; Berezovec 1960, 54; Kovaleva 1999, 131, fig. 2.3; Evdokimov & Fridman 1987, 102‑103. Mancevič 1987, 23, 95, Дн 19131/22. Kuznecova & Kuznecov 2005, 320‑321. Bidzilja, Boltrik, Mozolovskij & Savovskij 1977, 117. Bessonova, Kovalev & Kubyšev 2005, 39‑40. Bessonova 2005, 12. Suničuk & Fokeev 1984, 108. Bitkovskij & Polin 1987, 76, 79. Sparkes & Talcott 1970, 112, nos. 612-623. Robinson 1933, pl. 151.534. Ivanov 1963, 184. Papanova 2000, 196, 207, fig. 8. Rogov & Tunkina 1998, 163, nos. 58‑67, fig. 5. Meljukova 1975,161‑162, figs. 43.8‑10, 44.1, 44.3, 44.6. Danil’čenko 2000, 218, pl. 1.5‑6. Monachov & Rogov 1990, 141‑143.

Social and Economic Stratification of the Scythians 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90

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Kubyšev, Nikolova & Polin 1982, 140. Jakovenko, Černenko & Korpusova 1970, 157. Sparkes & Talcott 1970, 111, nos. 605, 608. Kozub 1974, 46, figs. 6‑7. Papanova 2000, 196, 202, fig. 4. Rogov & Tunkina 1998, 165, 168, fig. 5.1. Andruch & Toščev 2004, 61. Bitkovskij & Polin 1987, 76; Bessonova, Koval’ev & Kubyšev 2005, 40. Bessonova 1973, 247. Meljukova 1999, 69. Berezovec 1960, 54. Kovaleva 1999, 131. Gavriljuk, Rassamakin & Otroščenko 2005. Bessonova, Bunjatan & Gavriljuk 1978, 42, fig. 2.4. Plešivenko 1991, 63; Evdokimov & Fridman 1991, 90, Terenožkin, Il’inskaja, Černenko & Mozolevskij 1973, 128, fig. 15.16, Berezovec 1960, 52, Čeredničenko & Boldin 1977, 129‑136, Kolotuchin 2000, 14, Kolotuchin 2000, 11, 49, fig. 28.6. Andruch & Toščev 2004, 29‑46. Ol’govskij & Polin 1977, 37. Meljukova 1975, 68, 242, figs. 44.2, 44.4. Ivanov 1963, 186. Papanova 2000, 210. Monachov & Rogov 1990, 149, pl. 12.69. Sparkes & Talcott 1970, 118‑119, nos. 652‑653, 659. Gavriljuk, Rassamakin & Otroščenko 2005, 165. Schilbach 1995, 93, typ 2 (K1342). Vickers 1973, 196‑197, pl. 40; 1980, 183‑184, pl. 29. Kruglov 2004, 104. Bessonova 1982, 105. Gavriljuk 2006, nos. 44‑78. Serova & Jarovoj 1987, 109. Meljukova 1999, 61, 72. Grebennikov 1980, 152, 155, Šapošnikova 1976. Mozolevskij 1980, 123: Alekseev, Murzin & Rolle 1991, 61, 216; Bunjatjan, Čeredničenko & Murzin 1977, 76, 84‑85; Čeredničenko & Boldin 1977, 137‑139; Čeredničenko, 1976, 271‑272; Grakov 1962, 61. Leskov 1971, 55‑56; Kubyšev 1979; 1985. Jakovenko, Černenko & Korpusova 1970, 161; 173; Kolotuchin 2000, 32. Ostapenko 2001, 63, 65. Papanova 2000, 212, fig. 11. Kovpanenko, Bunjatjan & Gavriljuk 1978, 118‑119. Sparkes & Talcott 1970, 122, no. 711. Rotroff 1997, 85, no. 38. Rotroff 1997, 98, no. 178. Sparkes & Talcott 1970, 122, no. 721. Rotroff 1997, 85, nos. 28 and 31. Gavriljuk 1999, 250, pl. 5.11. Rotroff 1997, 161‑162. Rotroff 1997, 157, nos. 868‑870, 879. Egorova 2005, 219.

258 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98

Nadežda A. Gavriljuk Rogov & Tunkina 1998, 165. Sparkes & Talcott 1970, 122. Rotroff 1997, 85, 98, no. 178. Bessonova 2005, 18. Gavriljuk 2006, 170. Bunjatjan 1985, 96‑100. Terenozhkin & Mozolevskij 1988, 146‑149. Buniatian 1985, 96‑100.

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Indigenous Responses to Encounters with the Greeks in Northern Anatolia: The Reception of Architectural Terracottas in the Iron Age Settlements of the Halys Basin Latife Summerer

Introduction During the 7th century BC, Ionian settlers crossed the Bosporos to seek their fortunes on the shores of the Black Sea. Out of this effort came the foundation of a number of poleis and with this foundation changes and new challenges for both the newcomers and the indigenous people inhabiting this region. The narrative of Greek-indigenous encounters is filtered through the writings of later Greek authors. Thus, our understanding of the impact of the Greek poleis on indigenous tribes and indigenous responses to the Greek colonies is one-dimensional. Therefore, modern scholarship usually defines the colonial encounter between the Greek settlers and the indigenous people in dichotomous terms of domination and resistance. In this article I seek to transcend this traditional conceptualisation of the Greek-indigenous encounter by recognising mimicry, hybridity, and dynamic cultural creations that were the results of central aspects of the encounter between the Ionian settlers and the native inhabitants. I employ the archaeological data, mostly architectural terracottas, available from the Iron Age settlements in the hinterland of Amisos on the southern coast of the Black Sea in order to understand both the strategies used by the Greeks settlers to indigenise themselves and the dynamics of the cultural consciousness of the indigenous people in the late Archaic period.1

Written Sources The Greek authors name the authochthonous residents on the Sinop Promontory and in the coastal zone between the rivers Halys and Iris as Assyrians or Syrians, who were driven away in order to make way for the foundation of Greek colonies.2 Herodotos informs us that these people were called Syrians by the Greeks, but Kappadokians by the Persians.3 Strabon confirms

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this, but also uses the name “Leukosyrians” in order to distinguish ethnically this group from those Syrians in Mesopotamia and in the Levant.4 The origin of the indigenous Syrians in the Black Sea area is unclear. It had been assumed that their name was derived from the Old Assyrian trade colony Zalpa, which was founded in the early Bronze Age, but there is no clear evidence either in the historical or archaeological sources to support this hypothesis.5 The local Syrians encountered by the Ionians on the Southern shores of the Black Sea seem not to have been politically organized in strong kingdoms such as Lydia and Phrygia, but instead in loosely confederated, internally hierarchical chiefdoms. During the 7th century BC they were apparently living a politically independent existence, since they were able to give asylum to Daskylos, the father of the later Lydian king Gyges.6 Yet, they must have suffered under the Kimmerian raids as did all the other peoples of Anatolia. Herodotos even remarks that the Kimmerians founded settlements on the Sinop Promontory.7 The first Ionian settlers came from Miletos and gradually explored the southern shoreline of the Black Sea during the 7th century BC. They first occupied the strategically advantageous promontory of Sinope which then afforded them easy access to other shores of the Black Sea.8 Any written source material regarding encounters between Greeks and the indigenous population derives mostly from mythic accounts which are hardly reliable for historical reconstructions. They generally oscillate between two extremes of indigenous response to Greek colonization on the southern shores of the Black Sea: enthusiastic reception and violent revolt which was inevitably crushed. In Apollonios Rhodios’ Argonauts when Herakles and his companions arrive at the place where Herakleia was later founded in the homelands of the Mariandynoi, their native king Lykos welcomes the Greek heroes in a friendly way and promises to give them fertile lands.9 As noted above, however, in the case of Sinope the Greeks seized the city from the indigenous Syrians by force.10 Later the Sinopians did the same when they founded their own sub-colonies of Kotyora, Kerasos and Trapezous in the lands of Tiberenoi and Mossynoikoi.11 The coastline between the rivers Halys and Iris likewise inhabited by the indigenous Syrians offered no good harbours to the Greek settlers, but was easily accessible from the interior, while the rest of the Black Sea coastline was cut off from the hinterlands by the Pontic mountain range. The natural route along the Halys Basin was probably discovered by the Ionians during the proto-colonial contact. It is possible that Ionian traders first established an emporion at the site that later became Amisos. At any rate settlers from Miletos and/or Phokaia founded Amisos about 600 BC.12 In the case of Amisos the ancient authors do not mention any indigenous opposition to the foundation of a Greek colony within their territory. Ps.-Skymnos however, clearly indicates that Amisos was situated in the middle of Syrian territory.13 Some of the indigenous Syr-

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ian settlements such as Chadisia, Teiria and Pteiria are even mentioned by name, unfortunately without any clear indication as to their location.14 The only concrete evidence on the substance of the Greek-indigenous relationship is transmitted by Strabon: An indigenous leader possibly named Timades, who was the archon of the Kappadokians, enlarged Amisos some time after its foundation.15 Since there is no other further information available we do not know why and how an indigenous leader was involved in such urban activities. This brief overview demonstrates that the stereotypical accounts of the subdued, but originally wild natives might rather reflect the intentions of the Greco-Roman authors to create glorious colonial pasts for the heroic apoikiai rather than any desire on their part to document the historical reality. Therefore, we should seek to uncover primary sources to reorient our perspectives on the relationships between the Ionian settlers and the indigenous inhabitants.

Archaeological evidence The effort to trace the Greek-indigenous relationship from the indigenous point of view requires an undertaking of archaeological studies. Unfortunately, none of the classical sites on the southern Black Sea coast have been systematically excavated. The available archaeological material comes from the poorly documented, early excavations of the first half of the 20th century widely ignored by scholars due to the lack of scientific publications. Since the ancient Greek cities are largely covered by modern towns no further archaeological investigations are possible. Material remains from the indigenous sites surrounding these Greek cities are the only means of providing primary data for the interpretation of the responses of the indigenous inhabitants to the changed circumstances of their environment. In the following I will first briefly present the finds of local pottery at both Sinope and Amisos and then the evidence of early Greek vases in the Iron Age settlements in the hinterland. Later I will examine in more detail samples of the locally made architectural terracottas from Iron Age settlements in the hinterland in order to assess the active role of indigenous creativity in the reception of new roofing technology and its foreign decoration.

Local pottery in Sinope and Amisos Small-scale excavations at Sinope by E. Akurgal and L. Budde between 1953 and 1955 brought to light some examples of local Anatolian Iron Age pottery. These vessels are mostly jugs with beaked mouths, the so-called Schnabelkannen, which represent a typical pottery shape in the Iron Age sites of the Halys Basin.16 Interestingly, at Sinope they came to light in a context together with east Greek and Attic vases dating to the first half of the 6th century BC.17

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Painted jugs with beaked mouths and other local pottery were also found at Amisos during the excavations in 1908 by T. Macridy.18 The available material sources from Sinope and Amisos are scattered, but limited as the evidence is, the presence of local pottery indicates either a certain degree of cohabitation or the adoption of local pottery by the Greek settlers. Thus, it can be assumed that there was an immediate and direct impact by the Greek settlers on the indigenous surroundings in both cities.

Greek pottery from the indigenous settlements Early Greek pottery is attested at a number of indigenous sites in the hinterland of Amisos in the Halys Basin (Fig. 1). For instance at Akalan, a strongly fortified Iron Age settlement 18  km inland from Amisos, fragments of two Milesian jugs of the Middle Wild Goat Style II dateable to the end of the 7th century BC have been excavated.19 Another example of Ionian pottery is attested some distance from the coastline; this is a very well preserved bird bowl found by chance in a village near Mecitözü and now kept in the Amasya Museum.20 It is a product of a North Ionian workshop of the third quarter of the 7th century BC.21 Further southwards at Boğazköy, the former capital of the Hittite Empire, some East Greek and Corinthian pottery of the mid-7th century have been excavated.22 Another fragment of East Greek pottery has come to light at Alişar.23

 

Fig. 1. Map with indigenous sites in the hinterland of Amisos.

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Fig. 2. Terracotta revetment plaque from Akalan.

At Kaman-Kalehöyük in the upper Halys Valley a fragment of an Attic crater datable to the second half of the 6th century BC has recently been found.24 This site also yielded fragments of protogeometric pottery, which came to light in the stratified trench II d corresponding, according to the excavator, to the period between 1200 and 800 BC.25 This is the earliest Greek pottery known to have been found in the Halys region so far.26 The evidence of early Greek pottery is poor, but its distribution shows tentatively that early contact between the Greeks and indigenous peoples was concentrated mainly in the Halys Basin. Surely the reason for this lies in the geographical setting since the settlements in the river basin were not cut off by the mountains from the colonised Black Sea shores. From its advantageous position Amisos was able to establish close relations with the indigenous settlements inland.

Architectural terracottas from the Iron Age settlements Akalan At Akalan a huge number of clay roof tiles, sima- and revetment plaques dateable to the second half of the 6th century BC were excavated in 1906.27 The revetment plaques with guilloche meander and lotus-palmette patterns have their identical counterparts in Amisos (Fig.  2).28 Therefore, it is obvious, that the moulds for these clay reliefs were introduced to Akalan by the neighbouring Greek city.29

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Fig. 3. Terracotta revetment plaques from Amios.

Interestingly, plaques with ovolo mouldings with an egg-and-dart or beadand-reel, which characterize the architectural terracottas from Western Asia Minor as well as those from Sinope, are absent at Akalan. Rather a flat fascia occurs as the crowning moulding of all lateral simas and revetment plaques

 

Fig. 4. Sima woth water spout from Akalan.

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Fig. 5. Terracotta revetment plaques from Akalan.

(Fig. 4). The lateral simas are decorated with rampant lions on either side of a waterspout facing away from the spout, one forepaw raised with the head turned back towards the spout. Lateral simas of the same type but of a smaller size show an identical lion and a panther with upraised paw both turned towards the spout, the lion head facing away from the spout, the panther facing the viewer (Fig. 4). Parallels for the lions are found on several simas from Miletos and on the Fikellura vases dated to the second half of the 6th century BC.30 Compared with the Milesian lion simas, the Akalan lions have a more unrefined appearance. Further south in Köyici Tepesi lion simas also occur, even though their style is even more raw than those from Akalan. Some revetment plaques from Akalan are decorated with mythological scenes (Fig. 5). Although the plaques are very fragmentary, we are able to restore them as a continuous frieze due to their corresponding motifs depicting the Pholos adventure of Herakles. The hero is shown kneeling in front of the half arch shaped cave of Pholos with a pithos below it. He is depicted shooting the escaping centaurs with his arrows. One of them has fallen down, injured or already dead, an arrow still in his breast. His half open eye and his slightly open mouth admirably describe the pain suffered by the centaur. A second centaur is tripping over the fallen one. All the other centaurs are fleeing at a gallop with their arms extended towards the right. They are shown carrying tree branches and stones as weapons. On the surviving fragments we are able to identify five centaurs. The complete length of these fragments and their centaurs presumes a long frieze of at least 2.40 m. It is technically impossible to produce such a long and narrow clay fries in one piece. Consequently, it must have consisted of at least four plaques. According to the reconstruction proposed here, the first plaque on the left comprised Herakles and the pithos as well as both tumbling centaurs since in the representations of this theme

 

Fig. 6. Terracotta revetment plaques from Köyiçi Tepesi.

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in vase painting the falling centaurs are always placed immediately in front of the shooting hero.31 All the other plaques must have been decorated by two galloping centaurs only, but the motif varies on each plaque. Such a detailed narrative representation of the Pholos myth including the cave and pithos is quite unusual in architectural terracottas.32 Continuous clay friezes normally repeat the same motif. Indeed, the production of a continuous frieze employing different matrices is against the economy of the moulded architectural terracottas. Therefore, we may assume, the Akalan frieze did not derive from other architectural terracottas, but from images in other minor arts.33 Since the detailed mythological depictions are normally to be found on the vases, it seems likely that the composition is borrowed from imported Greek pottery. The choice of a Greek myth for the exterior decoration of the building may allude to the desire of the owner to differentiate himself from his surroundings and assert a special familiarity with Greek culture.

Köyiçi Tepesi Another Iron Age settlement providing rich, Greek-style architectural terracottas has been discovered recently at Köyici Tepesi on the northwestern shore of Lake Ladik (Greek Stephane Limne) situated some 80 km inland from the Black Sea.34 Dozens of roof tiles, simas and painted relief plaques surfaced after the flooding of the site by a hydroelectric power plant a few years ago. The site shares the aforementioned lion simas with Akalan.35 Also triple guilloches and lotus motives decorated revetment plaques are represented in several examples, even though the modelling and painting is poor (Fig. 6). It seems the local tile-maker adopted decorative elements without knowing the appropriate moulding and painting techniques. In addition a square plaque type with an un-Greek subject comes from this site (Fig. 7). A large fragment from the left side of the plaque allows restoration of the entire motif: It is a symmetrical composition with two goats flanking the so-called “tree of life”. In Near Eastern art this subject has a very old tradition of religious significance.36 In Iron Age Anatolia goats flanking the tree of life are represented on late Hittite orthostate reliefs in Karatepe-Karataş and on so-called Phrygian pottery.37 This image is not, however, entirely unknown in Greek art.38 On animal friezes of East Greek vases symmetrical goats flanking a vegetal motif occasionally occur, but the vegetal motif customarily resembles a volute or a rosette rather than an Oriental tree of life.39 Interestingly, in architectural friezes this theme is only employed at inland Anatolian sites, while it is completely absent in the colonised coastal region.40 Besides the new discovery from Köyiçi Tepesi, revetment plaques decorated with wild goats are known also from Gordion and Pazarlı.41 If one compares the three versions of this theme on the plaques from

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Fig. 7. Terracotta revetment plaque from Köyiçi Tepesi.

Köyiçi Tepesi, Pazarlı and Gordion, it becomes clear that they cannot did not derive from the same model.42 The goats from Köyiçi Tepesi and Gordion are rendered similarly resting on two legs with diagonally erect bodies. The goats from Pazarlı are shown standing on one hind leg in an almost upright position touching the tree of life with their three remaining legs. Alongside this compositional difference the figures of the goats are also divergent. The Gordian goat has a relatively short, thick horn. The horns of the goats from Pazarlı are thick and smooth, but a little longer than those of the goats on the Pazarlı and Gordion plaques. The goat from Köyiçi Tepesi has a huge saberlike curved horn with small knobs. Such a rendering of goat’s horns has no parallels in the art of Iron Age Anatolia.43 On the other hand, the long curved goat’s horn with small knobs is typical for the Middle Wild Goat Style of East Greek pottery.44 Apart from the horn shape, the proportions and the outline of the animal’s body are also comparable. One notes the raising counter between the back and the neck as well as the convex outline between the breast and the muzzle corresponding to the East Greek goats, as demonstrated by a comparison with a figure on an oinochoe from Temir Gora (Crimea) in the State Hermitage Museum.45 This comparison, however, also makes clear that the goat on the clay plaque has been simplified.

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The head consists of a long muzzle, while no indication of the goat’s beard is discernable. The relief is flat; no details of the goat’s body are accentuated by molding. Together with tool traces at the edges of the relief, this indicates that the plaque is not moulded, but that the figures were cut out and applied to the plaque before firing. This application technique is well-known in relief pottery, but quite unusual in Greek architectural terracottas.46 The use of this unusual technique suggests that the goat from Köyiçi Tepesi was inspired by animal friezes on East Greek vases and transformed freehand onto the clay plaque for an oriental subject matter.

Pazarlı The last example of architectural terracottas showing Greeks iconographic affinities comes from Pazarlı situated 150  km inland from the Black Sea in the immediate vicinity of the well known Hittite site Alaca Höyük. In 1938 significant quantities of terracotta roof tiles, painted antefixes and revetment plaques were excavated at Pazarlı.47 Although this material has yet to be adequately published, it has long been the subject of a controversial discussion. Scholars still disagree on the dating of these finds. Fig. 8. Terracotta revetContrary to the excavators’ very early date in the ment plaque from Pazarlı. 8th or 7th century BC,48 several scholars have argued for a much later date at the end of the 6th century,49 and some have gone even further, suggesting a date of the first half of the 5th century BC.50 F. Işık has recently revived the claims for the earlier date for at least some of the plaques basing his arguments on style.51 As the author of the present article has argued elsewhere in detail, however, the architectural terracottas from Pazarlı cannot be any earlier than the second half the 6th century BC for iconographic and stylistic reasons.52 Furthermore, the archaeological evidence at Pazarlı argues against an earlier date. In the published material there are no other finds datable to the mid-7th century BC.53 Unlike the controversial opinions on the date, scholars seem to agree on the ethnic style of the Pazarlı plaques since they are usually labelled as exempla of Phrygian art.54 Yet, as it will be argued below concerning the example of the so-called “warrior plaques”, the relief style is heavily influenced by Ionian art. In Pazarlı there are two different types of revetment plaques decorated with warrior figures, which differ in size and in composition: The so-called “great warrior plaques” are larger (Figs. 8-9). They consist of two warriors facing each other (Figs. 10-11). The smaller “small warrior plaques” are decorated with two warriors marching one behind the other. The small warriors are shown carrying round shields and brandishing spears above either their

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Fig. 9. Terracotta revetment plaque from Pazarlı.

 

Fig. 10. Terracotta revetment plaque from Pazarlı.

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shoulders or their heads. They wear sleeveless chitons and short “skirts”. On some plaques the greaves and knee-length boots are indicated by painting (Fig. 10). Depicted with elongated legs and bird-like profiles the small warriors show an odd appearance, but this in itself is not a secure indication of an early date. Disproportionate bodies and unarticulated faces might have been caused by the difficulties for local craftsmen in transferring foreign models into local visual sources and artistic conceptions. Regarding the human figures on the Iron Age pottery from this region, the lack of interest in the body is evident.55 Even though the “small warrior plaques” give a “primitive” artistic impression (Fig. 11), it is clear that they depend closely on the more elaborate “great warrior plaques” as demonstrated by the use of the same helmet type. Comparing the helmets of the individual “small warrior plaques,” the efforts of individual local craftsmen to imitate the Ionian model are clearly visible (Fig. 9). Unfortunately, the plaque type of the “great warriors” has only survived in small fragments, so that its original size can only be approximately estimated. Most likely it had a nearly square shape each side measuring 54 cm (Fig. 8).56 The rims of such plaques are decorated with a rhomboid motif.57 On the relief the remains of a combat scene between two warriors is still recognizable. The fragments with intact right side edges show the head of a warrior facing left. He is portrayed wearing a helmet with a high crest, a slightly offset neck guard at the back, a vertical projection above the forehead and separately hinged cheek pieces.58 Two short vertical wavy lines beneath the neck guard indicate the ends of the warrior’s long hair. The cap is painted entirely black, while the cheek pieces and their hinge-joints are rendered with the reserve technique, and the rims are outlined twice. Possibly, this mixed painting technique was used to distinguish between the different materials of the helmet. So it can be supposed that the helmet was made of bronze, while the cheek pieces were made of leather.59 On one of the three head fragments, however, the inner part of the cheek piece is also covered by black paint. Probably this is meant to depict a sheet of metal on the leather cheek piece. Obviously, the painters followed their model with varying attention to detail. The crest of the helmet is painted with curly lines alternating between red, black and brown respectively. Such an elaborate helmet representation is to be found neither in Anatolia nor in Near Eastern art.60 This is instead an Ionian helmet type which occurs in eastern Greek art in this developed form already in the last quarter of the 7th century BC.61 The earliest examples come from Samos: The heads of Geryoneus on a bronze pectoral, the warrior on an ivory relief and the heads on the well known kernos all bear this type of helmet.62 Besides these aryballoi in the shape of helmeted heads are common in Ionia (mainly in Rhodos) in the period between 620‑520 BC (Fig. 12).63 Further representations of such a helmet type are to be found on vases, coins and in sculpture.64

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Fig. 11. Terracotta revetment plaque from Pazarlı, detail.

The helmet of the great warriors from Pazarlı finds its closest parallel on a clay flacon from Rhodos dateable to around 600 BC. Especially the similar rendering of the shape of the cheek pieces and their rims surrounded with double lines is striking. On the Rhodian aryballos, however, the cheek pieces are larger and cover most of the face. In comparison to the Pazarlı helmet, the neck-guard is much more extended and sharply off-set. Surely these differences arise from the early date of the aryballos. The imposing helmets of the Pazarlı warriors are comparable with the above-mentioned bronze pectoral and ivory relief from Samos, and also with the helmet of a warrior on a Chian chalice from Pitane.65 On one of the fragments the upper part of a round-shaped shield with crescent décor is preserved. Such a shield is well attested in eastern Greek art.66

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Behind the head of the great warrior (Fig. 9), his right hand on the pommel of a sword is still visible, apparently shown raised against an opponent. The point of a spear in front of his eye shows that he was in the process of being attacked by his opponent. Unfortunately, only a few fragments from the left side of the plaque have survived on which only the legs and body of the opponent is visible, while the head is completely lacking. The opponent is also equipped with a round shield. The vertical line and the zigzag pattern on his legs indicate that this warrior is wearing trousers. The border of his short chiton is painted with a net-dot-pattern. Over his chiton the warrior seems to wear another cloth which is differentiated by horizontal lines. On the two other fragments only the lower legs of both warriors are preserved.67 Remarkably, there is no indication of trousers painted on their legs. Instead, both warriors are wearing black greaves and red shoes.68 With regard to the helmet, round shield, sword and spear, there can be no doubt that the Pazarlı-warriors go back to common hoplite types of eastern Greek art. The composition of the combat group, however, consists of an oddity which finds no parallels in the Greek representations of monomachiai. A close comparison with the combat scenes on eastern Greek vases makes the difference clear.69 On the Pazarlı plaque, the shields of both warriors are rendered in the foreground. Consequently, the warrior on the left side must have carried his shield on his right arm. On the Greek representations of this scene the shield of the left warrior is always rendered from the inner side, because the warrior carries it on his left arm, while he lifts up his right arm with his weapon to attack. This perceptively correct rendering can be found in all the Greek combat scenes.70

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The representations of the antithetical warrior group covered by their shields, however, seem to be a convention of the strictly symmetrical compositions of Near Eastern art. Such a rendering finds counterparts in the late Hittite orthostate reliefs in Karatepe-Aslantaş.71 Later examples of pairs of warriors with similarly crested helmets and round shields were shown flanking the door of the Yılan Taş tomb in the Phrygian highlands and in the wood painting from the tumulus grave in Tatarlı (Phrygia) both datable to around the middle of the 5th century BC.72 There is no doubt that the Pazarlı-warriors were created using eastern Greek hoplite models. The particular composition of these pieces with the two shields shown in the foreground follows, however, a convention of local Anatolian art.

Conclusion From this brief survey it is clear that the reception of Greek type decorated clay plaques in the Iron Age settlements of the Halys Basin can be directly linked with the Greek city of Amisos.73 The terracotta plaques from the indigenous sites represent a variety of contemporary types and imagery used in western Asia Minor during the Archaic period. Furthermore, revetment plaques with Anatolian décor were also employed. By showing the variety of choices represented in relation to the local visual sources, it becomes clear how the foreign roofing technology and with it its décor, imagery and myths were adopted. Each settlement seems to have had its own scale of reception. The narrative continuous frieze from Akalan was produced using different matrices, which find no other parallels among architectural terracottas. Imported building technologies and architectural decorations probably gave the rich and powerful elite new means to distinguish themselves. In Köyiçi Tepesi animal friezes of the eastern Greek figure style are adopted using an unusual appliqué technique in order to create a composition for the traditional subject “goats at the tree of life”. The warriors with Ionian helmet types from Pazarlı demonstrate how the eastern Greek hoplite model is integrated into the symmetrical conception of local art. The tradition of architectural reliefs is very old in Anatolia.74 The orthostate sculptures from Karatepe-Aslantaş and the recent finds of fragmentary human reliefs in Kerkenes Dağ show that this tradition continued through the Iron Age.75 However, the origins of the clay architectural reliefs are still open for discussion.76 Attempts to consider central Anatolia as the birth place of the revetment plaques are not convincing due to the absence of well dated evidence.77 Independently of the question of whether the use of clay architectural reliefs was known in Anatolia before contact with the Ionians, we may conclude that the figural scenes on the earlier clay friezes from the Halys region were adopted from eastern Greek art. The archaeological terracottas examined here

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provide evidence for the indigenous perception and adoption of Ionian imagery. They allow an alternative insight into the ways in which indigenous people responded to the contact with their culturally dissimilar Ionian neighbours. Notes 1 According to Possidov 1996, 416 the “barbarization of the Greeks” was natural and inevitable as was the “Hellenization of the Barbarians”. 2 For example in the case of the foundation of Sinope: Matthews 1978, 107‑108; Langella 1997, 20‑23. 3 Hdt. 1.72. 4 The ancient name of the Syrians inhabiting Pontic Kappadokia, by which they were distinguished from the southern Syrians, who were of darker complexion (Strab. 16.737; Plin. N.H. 6.3; Eustath, ad Dionys. 772, 970). 5 For the localiziation of Zalpa, see Haas 1977, 18; Czichon in press. A research project at Oymaağaç Höyük on the eastern shore of the Halys River initiated in and conducted by R.M. Czichon since 2006 is expected to provide new archaeological evidence on this question. 6 Langella 1997, 21. 7 Hdt 4.12; Ivantschik 1998, 312. 8 For a discussion of the date of Sinope’s foundation, see Ivantschik 1998, 326‑330; Langella 1997, 125‑132. 9 Schol. Ap. Rhod. 184 ad 2.724; 185‑186 ad 2.752. Cf. Saprykin 1997, 29‑30. 10 Ps.-Scym. 986. 11 Xen. Anab. 5.5. On the Mossynoikoi, see Lipka 1995, 69‑71. 12 For the Milesian foundation of Amisos, there is only Strabon’s evidence (12.3.4), which conflicts with the information of Ps.-Skymnos (1016‑1917) on the Phokaian foundation of the city. For detailed discussion of this topic, see Summerer 2005, 129‑159. 13 Ps.-Skymnos 956‑959. 14 The names Chadisia and Teiria are preserved in a fragment of Hekataios from Miletos (FGrH 1 F 200, 1 F 201). Plinius (N.H. 6.9) describes a town near the river Chadisia at modern Karabahce, 20 km east of Amisos. It has been suggested that Teiria is identical with Soteiria which is mentioned by Plinius among the five cities in Themiskyra (Olshausen & Biller 1984, 170‑171). The Syro-Kappadokian city Pteria was mentioned by Herodotos. Herodotos’description of the location of Pteria, in a line with Sinope beyond Halys, fits with the area around Amisos (Hdt 1, 74-76). 15 Strabon 12.3,4. 16 Akurgal & Budde 1956, pl. 3. This type of pottery from Boğazköy: Bossert 2000, 77, N. 237; from the region of Çorum: Polat 1993, fig. 5‑7.9.11.13. 17 Akurgal & Budde 1956, pl. 2; Akurgal 1955, pl. 33. 18 The huge amount of excavated materials now kept at the Archaeological Museum of Istanbul is currently entirely unknown to scholars. The excavation material consists mostly of Hellenistic pottery, while the total of the Archaic finds is not numerous. Among them the high proportion of local pottery is striking (Summerer 2005, 142‑145, fig. 8‑10). 19 Macridy 1907, pl. 10; Cummer 1976, pl. 7, 53‑57.

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20 Amasya Museum Inv. A.75.26.1 The bird bowl was found in the village Dalsaray near Mecitözü by a farmer. Judging from its fine state of preservation it must have been found in a grave. 21 The dissertation of Michael Kerschner on the Ionian bird-bowls is to be published. I am grateful to Michael Kerschner for the classification of the sample in the Amasya Museum. 22 Bossert 2000, pl. 143, 1351, 1350a-c. On one of the eastern Greek sherds the fragmentary representation of a running dog under a chariot is preserved. Contrary to Walter-Karydi 1970, 6 note 14; 9, who classifies this sherd as Aiolian, Bossert 2000, 148 considers it, following Metzger 1967, 350, a work of “Camiros style”. 23 von der Osten 1937, pl. 3,9; Metzger 1967, 350‑351, fig. 2. 24 Matsumara 2000, fig. 30. 25 Matsumara 2000, fig. 28. On the dating of IId see Omura 2001, 328. 26 Sherds decorated with concentric half circles are also found in Porsuk in Southern Kappadokia (Dupré 1983, 68 Cat. 42.74. 47 pl. 50) and at Tarsos in Kilikia (Goldman 1963, 305). For further protogeometric pottery found in the Eastern Mediterranean, see Lemos 2002, 228, who does not consider the finds from Tharsos, Porsuk and Kaman-Kalehöyük. 27 The architectural terracottas from Akalan are only partially published (Macridy 1907; Åkerström 1966, 121‑194). The author of the present article is preparing a full publication of this material (Summerer 2005). 28 The architectural terracottas from Amisos (Summerer 2005, fig. 4‑6). 29 Contrary to this Summers 2006, 684‑688 attempts to connect Akalan with Phrygian tile manufacture. 30 Simas from Miletos: von Graeve 1987, 29 cat. 77 pl. 19, 77; von Graeve 1991, pl. 24, 1. Fikellura vases: von Greave 1987, pl. 14; von Graeve 1991, pl. 15, 37.40. 31 Schiffler 1976, 216 note 355. 32 Some fragmentary terracotta plaques with moulded crestings showing painted centaurs galloping and carrying tree braches in their hands of unknown origin are kept at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in Copenhagen: Christiansen 1985, 142‑143, figs. 7‑8. They are supposed to be from Etruria, but based on the style and the colour scheme used, they may have come from Anatolia, possibly from Euromos. 33 The representations of the Pholos myth are very rare on the East Greek vases, as are mythological representations in general. There are no clear indications that the centaur carrying branches on a fragmentary Chian ring vase from Naukratis depicts the Pholos myth (Lemos 1991, 108. 321 no. 1440; Tempesta 1998, 55, pl. 28, 1). If the interpretation is correct, the scene with the three injured centaurs on the fragmentary Fikelurian amphora from Histria represents the only surviving example (Tempesta 1998, 59 pl. 34, 3). Indeed, the best parallel for the composition of the Akalan frieze with centaurs running away from Herakles is a Middle Corinthian skyphos in Paris (Ahlberg-Cornell 1992, 104 fig. 183). 34 Strabon 12.3.3: describes a stronghold called Kizari at the Stephane Limne with the ruins of a royal palace. Since no other ancient sites are known at the Lake Ladik, it is likely that the site at Köyiçi Tepesi is Strabon’s Kizari. 35 This material is going to be published in a detailed study by the present author (Summerer 2005).

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36 According to Schmöckel 1957/1958, 374‑378 this theme was the symbol of the eternity of the life. See also Bossert 2000, 50 with note 85. Contrarily, Åkerström 1966, 226 believes it derives from the oriental hunting scene. 37 Karatepe relief: Çambel & Özyar 2003, 82 cat. NKr 10 pl. 80‑81; pottery: Prayon 1987, pl. 39a; Bossert 2000, fig. 3 f. 38 The affirmation of Akurgal 1943, 36; Akurgal 1955, 79 and Prayon 1987, 178, that this motif has no precedent in Greek art, is incorrect. The wild goats flanking the “tree of life” antithetically are first attested in Greece in late Geometric art (CVA Copenhagen 2, 67, 4). A kothon of unknown provenience carrying a depiction of this subject was originally classified as “Boiotian”. Ruckert 1976, 38, however, excludes its Boiotian origin, and attributes it to Attica due to shape of the vase. Another example for the use of the motif “goats at the life tree” in early Greek pottery is a Geometric kantharos which was found on Cyprus, now in the Museum of Larnaca (Buchholz 2000, 216 note 1 pl. 31 (not shown; on the back side of the vase)). “Goats flanking the tree of life” is also found on a Mycenean skyphos from Lefkandi (Popham & Milburn 1971, 340 pl. 54,1). 39 In eastern Greek vase painting the antithetical mounting goats are found on a Rhodian oinochoe (CVA Italia. Rodi, no. 4 pl. 7‑8) and on two Aiolian jugs (Iren 2003, pl. 14 cat. 75). 40 A comparable composition is found on a clay sima from Western Asia Minor in Boston, which shows a tree like motif between two antithetical griffons (Åkerström 1966, 42 pl. 16). It was thought that a “tree of life” was also placed between antithetical pegasoi on the lateral simas from Gordion although the traces of such a tree are hardly visible (Hosstetter 1994, 13). 41 Åkerström 1966, pl. 84, 4; 85; 3; 88, 1‑4. There is a new discovery of a fragmentary bronze with antithetical goats from Kerkenes Dağ which Summers & Summers 2002 consider to have been used in an architectural context. 42 Åkerström 1966, pl. 85,3; 88,1‑4. 43 Prayon 1987, pl. 39a-c. Representations of the wild goats on the so called Phrygian vases (Akurgal 1955, pl. 19, a; 21, b; 22 middle; 28 b; 29, a above; Bossert 2000, 83 fig. 34, b; 84; 24, a). The goats on the ivory relief excavated at Kerkenes Dağ in 1996 are classified unconvincingly as “Median” by Dusinberre 2003, fig. 6. They have bulky bodies and short thick horns. Assyrian, Urartian and late Hittite goats are rendered also with short thick horns. See, for example, the strongly stylized goats at the “tree of life” on the Karatepe reliefs of the late Hittite period (Çambel & Özyar 2003, pl. 80). 44 According to Tietz 2001, 188 such a horn with knobs depicts a certain goat species: Capra aegagrus aegagrus. 45 Schiering 1957, 11 pl. 12, 2; Walter 1968, 63‑66 pl. 94, 503; Cook & Dupont 1998, 36‑38 figs. 8.5. 46 This technique is attested only in Gordion (Åkerström 1966, 150‑151 pl. 75). The suggestion of Åkerström 1966, 151 note 14, that this technique was also used for Archaic architectural terracottas from Rome, seems to be an error, since they are reported to be moulded by matrices (Downey 1995, 19). 47 Koşay 1941; Åkerström 1966, 161‑189. 48 Koşay 1941. 49 Bittel 1939, 143 excludes a date before the end of 7th century BC, considers rather a date within the 6th century BC. Akurgal 1943, 27‑31; Akurgal 1955, 80 proposes a date in the mid-6th century BC. Boardman 1999, 92 fig. 103.

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50 Schefold 1950, 145‑146; Åkerström 1966, 234. 51 With this early date Işık 1991, 64‑76 tries to prove that the revetment plaques had their origin in Central Anatolia. This theory is accepted by Greco 2000, 236 but rejected by Glendinning 1996, 103 note 17. 52 Summerer 2005. 53 Summerer 2005. 54 Akurgal 1955, 69‑80; Woolley 1961, 162‑166; Edrich 1969, 78‑83; Prayon 1987, 172‑182; Held 1999, 154 fig. 14; Boardman 1999, 92 fig. 103 55 See for example the so-called warrior dinos from Boğazköy: Bossert 2000, 53 no. 265 colour pl. C 56 According to the estimate of Åkerström 1966, 167‑170 fig. 50 the plaque was 54 cm high and 50 cm wide. However, the preserved relief motif indicates a plaque form of equal sides. 57 Such a decoration of the rims of the clay plaque finds its parallel in Pergamon, Midas City and Gordion (Åkerström 1966, 22 figs. 6.82 pl. 9, 1‑3; Glendinning 1996, pl. 32, 1; Glendinning 2002, 34 fig. above right). 58 The affirmation of Held 1999, 154, fig. 154 that the helmets from Pazarlı had no vertical protection, is incorrect. 59 Edrich 1969, 78 also agrees that such a rendering differentiates the varying material pieces of the helmet (bronze sheet black; reserved cheek pieces of felt or leather). 60 Dezsö 2001, 125‑126 cat. 264‑267 lists the Pazarlı plaques in his catalogue of the Near Eastern helmet types as an isolated group and dates them to the first half of the 7th century BC without any supporting argument. 61 Snodgrass 1964, 32. According to Held 1999, 141‑157 the Ionian helmet with separate cheek pieces originally derived from the Urartian helmet, but developed in Ionia. Held 1999, 154 seems to consider the Pazarlı helmets somehow as a connecting link between Urartu and Ionia, but he has no precise arguments for this. Since the “warrior plaques” from Pazarlı are of a much later date than the first representations of Ionian helmets from Samos, they can hardly have served as mediators between Urartu and Ionia. 62 The Samian bronze pectoral (Brize 1985, pl. 16; Held 1999, fig. 7.8). 63 Snodgrass 1964, 31‑34, fig. 17; Edrich 1969, 76‑84. 64 Sculpture of a warrior from Samos (Held 1999, fig. 12). Klazomenian amphora (Held 1999, fig.  11). Fikellura amphora (Walter-Karydi 1973, 133 no. 555 pl. 71). Ionian amphora from Lindos (Blinkenberg 1931, no. 2618 pl. 126‑127; Born & Hansen 1994, 74 fig.  65). Klazomenian sarcophagus (Cook 1981, pl. 6, 1‑2). Phokaian coins (Langlotz 1975, pl. 2, 2). 65 Lemos 1991, cat. 800, fig. 58. 66 Lemos 1991, colour pl. 2 no. 732. 67 Åkerström 1966, pl. 95, 4; 96, 2.3. 68 Åkerström 1966, 168 pl. 95, 4 describes erroneously the warrior’s feet as naked. 69 See, for example, the well known Euphorbos plate (Cook & Dupont 1998, fig. 290). Another example is an eastern Greek fragment from Berezan’ (Kryzhytskyy 2003, 501 fig. 3, 1). 70 Combat schemata with two warriors both covered by their shields appear occasionally in early vase painting: An example for this is the well-known combat scene on the so-called Aristonothos crater (Boardman 1998, fig. 282. 1,2). In the 6th century BC, however, the shields are always rendered correctly, see for example

282

71 72 73

74 75 76

77

Latife Summerer the combat scenes on the Klazomenian sarcophagi and Ionian vases (Cook 1981, 46 fig. 31, pl. 15; Lemos 1991, colour pl. 3, no. 740). The correct rendering is to be found in a combat scene on an architectural terracotta in Zurich, which comes probably from northwestern Asia Minor. This fragmentary plaque was acquired on the antiquities market by the Zurich museum (Kunst der Antike 1982, 23 fig. 48 a; Buzzi 2000, 7‑9, pl. 3, 3). Çambel & Özyar 2003, 69‑70.105 pl. 36‑37.148‑149. Yılan Taş (Ramsay 1883, pl. 18; von Gall 1999, 149‑160). Tatarlı (Summerer 2007, fig. 10). Contrary to this Summers 2006, 684‑688 sees the tiles in Akalan as a northern extension of a Central Anatolian tile making industry”. Summers makes no argument for this suggestion but refers only to Cummer and “others”. Since to my knowledge there are no such proposals, Summers seems to have misunderstood Cummer’s comment. Özyar 2003, 107‑115. Çambel & Özyar 2003; Summers & Summers 2004. On the Greek mainland clay revetment plaques were unknown. Relief clay plaques were in use in Etruria already in the 7th century BC (Greco 2000, 232) while the earliest examples in Anatolia are attested at Sardes and Larisa in the first half of the 6th century BC (Winter 1993, 29‑33). Işık 1991, 64‑86 argues that the Phrygian rock monuments with relief façades attest to the use of clay revetment plaques already at the end of the 8th century BC. Indeed, the dating of these rock façades is open to discussion. For the latest discussion, see Berndt 2002, 11‑14; 18‑20 with literature.

Bibliography Ahlberg-Cornell, G. 1992. Myth and Epos in Early Greek Art. Representation and Interpretation. Jonsered. Akurgal, E. 1943. Bemerkungen zu den architektonischen Terrakottareliefs aus Pazarlı in Phrygien. Belleten 7, 23‑43. Akurgal, E. 1955. Phrygische Kunst. Ankara. Akurgal, E. & L. Budde 1956. Vorläufiger Bericht über die Ausgrabungen in Sinope. Ankara. Berndt, D. 2002. Midasstadt in Phrygien. Eine sagenumwobene Stätte im anatolischen Hochland. Mainz. Bittel, K. 1939. Archäologische Funde in der Türkei, AA, 134‑143. Blinkenberg, Ch. 1931. Lindos. Fouilles de L’acropole. 1902‑1914 I. Les petits objets. Berlin. Boardman, J. 1998. Early Greek Vase Painting. London. Boardman, J. 1999. The Greeks Overseas (4th edition). London. Born H. & S. Hansen 1994. Frühgriechische Bronzehelme. Sammlung A. Guttmann III. Mainz. Bossert, E.M. 2000. Die Keramik phrygischer Zeit von Boğazköy. Mainz. Brize, Ph. 1985. Samos und Stesichoros. AM 100, 53‑90.

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Buchholz, H.G. 2000. Kyprische Bildkunst zwischen 1100 und 500 v. Chr, in: Ch. Uelinger (ed.), Images as media. Sources for the cultural history of the Near East and the Eastern Mediterrenean (1st millennium BCE). Göttingen, 215‑266. Buzzi, S. 2000. Drei Fragmente architektonischer Terrakotten, ASammlUnZürich 26, 7‑14. Çambel, H. & A. Özyar 2003. Karatepe-Aslantaş. Azatiwataya. Die Bildwerke. Mainz. Christiansen, J. 1985. Etruskiske stumper, Meddelelser fra Ny Carlsberg Glyptothek 41. København, 133‑151. Cook, R.M. 1981. Clazomenian Sarcophagi. Mainz. Cook, R.M. & P. Dupont 1998. East Greek Pottery. New York. Cummer, W.W. 1976. Iron Age Pottery from Akalan, IstMitt 26, 34‑39. Czichon, R.M. in press. Die hethitische Kultur im Mittleren Schwarzmeergebiet, CDOG 6. Dezsö, T. 2001. Near Eastern Helmets of the Iron Age (BAR International Series 992). Oxford. Downey, S.B. 1995. Architectural Terracottas from the Regia. Ann Arbor. Dupré, S. 1983. Porsuk I. La céramique de l’âge du fer. Paris. Dusinberre, E.R.M. 2003. An excavated Ivory from Kerkenes Dağ, Turkey: Transcultural Fluidities, Signification of Collective Identity, and the Problem of Median Art, Ars Orientalis 32, 202, 17‑54. Edrich, K.H. 1969. Der ionische Helm. Göttingen. Glendinning, M.R. 1996. A Mid-Sixth-Century Tile Roof System at Gordion, Hesperia 65, 99‑118. Glendinning, M.R. 2002. Recovering the Lost Art of Phrygian Roof Tiling, Expedition 44.2, 28‑35. Goldman, H. 1963. Excavations at Gözlü Kule III. The Iron Age. Princeton. Greco, G. 2000. Nuove prospettive di ricerca nello studio delle terracotte architectoniche magno greche di età tardo arcaica, in: F. Krinzinger (ed.), Die Ägäis und das westliche Mittelmeer. Beziehungen und Wechselwirkungen 8. bis 5. v. Chr. Wien 1999. Wien, 231‑243. Haas, V. 1977. Zalpa, die Stadt am Schwarzen Meer und das althethitische Königtum, MDOG 109, 15‑27. Held, W. 1999. Vom urartäischen Raupenhelm zum ionischen Helm, IstMitt 49, 141‑157. Hostetter, E. 1994. Lydian Architectural Terracottas. Illinois 1994. Iren, K. 2003. Äolische orientalisierende Keramik. Istanbul. Işık, F. 1991. Zur Entstehung der tönernen Verkleidungsplatten in Anatolien, AS 41, 63‑86. Ivantschik, A.I. 1998. Die Gründung von Sinope und die Probleme der Anfangsphase der griechischen Kolonisation des Schwarzmeergebietes, in: G.R. Tsetskhladze (ed.), The Greek Colonization of the Black Sea Area. Stuttgart. Koşay, H.Z. 1941. Les fouilles de Pazarlı. Ankara.

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Kryzhytskyy, S.D. et al. 2003 Olbia–Berezan, in: D.V. Grammenos & E.K. Petropoulos (ed.), Ancient Greek Colonies in the Black Sea. Thessaloniki, 389‑505. Langella, A. 1997. Sulle origini di Sinope. Analisi della tradizione precoloniale e coloniale. Napoli. Langlotz, E. Studien zur nordostgriechischen Kunst. Mainz. Lemos, A.A. 1991. Archaic Pottery of Chios. Oxford. Lemos, I.S. 2002. The Protogeometric Aegean. The Archaeology of the Late Eleventh and Tenth Centuries BC. Oxford. Lipka, M. 1995. Anmerkungen zu geographischen, wirtschaftlichen und sozialen Verhältnissen an der südöstlichen Schwarzmeerküste Ende des fünften/Anfang des vierten Jhs. v. Chr., Klio 77, 65‑73. Macridy, Th. 1907. Une citadelle archaïque du Pont, Mitteilungen der Vorderasiatischen Gesellschaft 4, 1‑9. Matthews, V.J. 1978. Chalybes, Syri and Sinope: the Greeks in the Pontic Regions, Ancient World 1, 107‑108. Matsumura, K. 2000. On the Manufacturing of Iron Age Ceramics from KamanKalehöyük, Anatolian Archaeological Studies/Kaman- Kalehöyük 9, 119‑135. Metzger, H. 1967. Perspectives nouvelles dans le domaine de l’archéologie classique en Asie Mineure, RA, 344‑361. Olshausen, E. & J. Biller 1984. Historisch-geographische Aspekte der Geschichte des Pontischen und Armenischen Reiches 1. Untersuchungen zur historischen Geographie von Pontos unter den Mithradatiden (Beihefte zum Tübinger Atlas des Vorderen Orients Reihe B nr. 29.1) Wiesbaden. Omura, S. 2001.1999 yılı Kaman-Kalehöyük kazıları in: 22. Kazı sonuçları toplantısı. 22‑26 Mayıs 2000 Izmir. Ankara, 327‑336. Özyar, A. 2003. Architectural Reliefs in Anatolian through Time: Contextualzing the Gate Scuptures of Karatepe-Aslantaş/Azatiwatya, in: B. Fischer, H. Genz, É. Jean & K. Köroglu (eds.), Identifying Changes? The Transition from Bronze to Iron Ages in Anatolia and its Neigbouring Regions. Proceedings of the International Workshop. Istanbul, November 8‑9, 2002. Istanbul, 107‑115. Polat, G. 1993. A Group of Phrygian Pottery from the Archaeological Museum of Istanbul. Istanbul. Podossinov, A. 1996. Barbarisierte Hellenen- Hellenisierte Barbaren. Zur Dialektik ethno-kultureller Kontakte in der Region des Mare Ponticum, in: B. Funck (ed.), Hellenismus. Beiträge zur Erforschung von Akkulturation und politischer Ordnung in den Staaten des hellenistischen Zeitalters. Akten des Internationalen Hellenismus-Kolloquiums 9. -14.3.1994 in Berlin. Tübingen, 415‑425. Popham, M. & E. Milburn 1971. The Late Helladic IIIC Pottery of Xeropolis (Lefkandi): a Summary, BSA 66, 333‑352. Prayon, F. 1987. Phrygische Plastik. Tübingen. Ruckert, A. 1976. Frühe Keramik Böotiens (Antike Kunst 10. Beiheft). Bern.

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Saprykin, S.J. 1997. Heracleia Pontica and Tauric Chersonesseos before Roman Domination. Amsterdam. Schefold, K. 1950. Die Tonfriese von Pazarlı, in: editor, Kleinasien und Byzanz. Gesammelte Aufsätze zur Altertumskunde und Kunstgeschichte (IstForsch 17), Berlin, 137‑148. Schiering, W. 1957. Werkstätten orientalisieriender Keramik auf Rhodos. Berlin. Schiffler, B. 1976. Die Typologie des Kentauren in der antiken Kunst vom 10. bis zum Ende des 4. Jh. v. Chr. Frankfurt am Main. Schmökel, H. 1957/1958. Ziegen am Lebensbaum, AfO 18, 373‑379. Snodgrass, A. 1964. Early Greek Armour and Weapons. Edinburg. Summerer, L. 2005. Amisos. Eine griechische Polis im Land der Leukosyrer, in: D. Kacharava, M. Faudot & E. Geny (eds.), Pont-Euxin et Polis. Polis Hellnis et Polis Barbaron. Actes du Xe Symposium de Vani – 23‑26 septembre 2002. Franc-Comtoises, 129‑165. Summerer, L. 2007. Greeks and Natives on the Southern Black Sea Coast in Antiquity, in: St. Mitchell (ed.), The Black Sea Region. Past, Present and Future. Proceedings of the inter-diciplinary Conference in Istanbul. 14‑16 October 2004 (BIAA Monograph 42), Ankara 27‑36. Summers G.D. & F. Summers 2002. Kerkenes Report 2002, www.metu.edu.tr/ home/wwwkerk/ker1/prelim/2002. Summers, G.D. & F. Summers 2004. Kerkenes Project. Preliminary Report on the Season 2004, www.metu.edu.tr.home. Summers, G. D. 2006. Architectural Terracottas in Greater Phrygia: problems of Chronology and Distribution, in: A. Erkanal & E. Özgen (eds.), Studies in Honor of Hayat Erkanal. Cultural Reflections. Istanbul, 684‑688. Tempesta, A. 1998. Le raffigurazioni mitologhe sulla ceramica greco-orientale archaica (RdA Beih. 9). Rome. Tietz, W. 2001. Wild Goats. Wechselwirkungen über die Ägäis hinweg bei Vasendarstellungen wildlebender Paarhufer in der archaischen Epoche, in: H. Blum, B. Faist, P. Pfälzner & A.M. Wittke (eds.), Brückenland Anatolien? Ursachen, Extensität und Modi des Kulturaustausches zwischen Anatolien und seinen Nachbarn. Tübingen, 181‑247. Uçankuş, H.T. 1979. Afyon’un Tatarlı kasabasında bulunan phryg tümülüsü kazısı,in: 8. Türk Tarih Kongresi. 11‑15 Ekim 1976 Ankara I. Ankara, 305‑334. von der Osten, H.H. 1937. The Alişar Höyük. Seasons of 1930‑32 I, OIP 28. von Graeve V. et al. 1987. Grabung auf dem Kalabaktepe, IstMitt 37, 6‑33. von Graeve V. et al. 1991. Grabungen auf dem Kalabaktepe, IstMitt 41, 127‑162. Walter, H. 1968. Samos V. Frühe Samische Gefäße. Bonn. Walter-Karydi, E. 1970. Äolische Kunst, in: Studien zur griechischen Vasenmalerei (AntK Beih.7), 1‑17. Walter-Karydi, E. 1973. Samos VI.1. Samische Gefäße des 6. Jhs. v. Chr. Bonn.

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Winter, N. 1995. Greek Architectural Terracottas from the Prehistoric to the End of the Archaic Period. Oxford. Woolley, C.L. 1961. Mesopotamien und Vorderasien. Die Kunst des Mittleren Ostens. Baden Baden. Åkerström, Å. 1966. Die architektonischen Terrakotten Kleinasiens. GleerupLund.

Mountainous Crimea: A Frontier Zone of Ancient Civilization Natalia G. Novičenkova

Mountainous Crimea, Taurica, was a region separated from the ancient centers of the peninsula and the communication lines connecting Chersonesos and the Bosporan Kingdom. This region is not particularly well studied and therefore it has been impossible to trace its development in Antiquity, and to clarify its role in the history of ancient Crimea as a whole. The geographical conditions of the Mountainous Crimea determined that the ancient population of this area dwelled almost entirely on the main mountain range. From a modern point of view it seems unlikely that a mountain ridge could unite a population into a single ethnic group instead of splitting it into several distinct segments. Yet our evidence from Antiquity suggests the opposite. Thus, for example, Plinius the Elder wrote that the Scytho-Taurians inhabited the range (Plin. NH 4.85). This evidence has evoked bewilderment among scholars1 because this part of Crimea has the harshest weather conditions and is covered with snow from November to May almost every year. The main mountain range of Crimea is formed by a chain of plateaus situated at about 1,000‑1,500 m above sea level. Here an ancient road system was laid out uniting all the mountain passes into a single system of communication.2 The plateaus with their alpine meadows served as excellent summer pastures. They were effectively protected against any threats from outside. The Taurians, who inhabited the mountain range, were not obliged to struggle for the steppe’s nomad territories or to drive their cattle for hundreds of kilometers. Their agricultural valleys were isolated too, and the largest and the richest of them, Bajdarskaja Valley, was defended by the ring of mountains surrounding it. The proportions of cattle breeding and agriculture in the households of the Crimean Mountain population were determined with an algorithm assigned with the same nature. It is important to note, that even 1,000 years after the disappearance of the megalithic cemeteries of the Taurians, new Gothic ones appeared in practically the same places – around the southwestern edges of the main mountain range.3 The self-sufficient economic life of the Taurians was ensured by their strict control of the most important agricultural territories and the alpine meadows. Their system of life would have been destroyed by the loss of the mountain pastures. Possibly, this was the main reason for the widely known xenophobia of the Taurians who kept information about their mountain communications routes and passes a secret.

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Natalia G. Novičenkova

The ancient literary tradition presents the Taurian society as preserved in a single, definite stage of development for centuries. Fabulous tales of rituals of human sacrifice in the Taurian temple and the worshipping of Greek deities by the Taurians have been recorded from the time of Herodotos to Euripides and Ovidius almost without change. We may assume, however, that because the Taurian world was distinct and self-sufficient it developed in isolation from other ancient civilizations. Therefore, the true character of the relations between the rest of the ancient world and the barbarians of Mountainous Crimea is better examined through our archaeological sources.

The sanctuary near the Gurzuf Saddle Pass The present paper is based on data from archaeological investigations, carried out by the author in Mountainous Crimea since 1981. The sanctuary near the Gurzuf Saddle Pass is the most intensively investigated site among the archaeological sites which belong to the culture of the ancient population of Mountainous Crimea. Their sanctuaries were located at particular points in the landscape having particular natural and climatic features, and were in use for centuries. Thus, the sanctuary at the Gurzuf Saddle Pass was situated at the highest part of Mountainous Crimea (1,434 m) and used for ritual purposes from the late Stone Age until the late Medieval period.4 Antiquity, however, was the brightest period in its history. It was in this period, according to literary and archaeological sources, that the southern part of Mountainous Crimea was inhabited by tribes of Taurians (Hdt. 4.99) and Scytho-Taurians (Plin. HN 4.85). Because of the discovery and subsequent examination of this sanctuary we were able to add new details to the map of the Black Sea coast in Antiquity, having determined that ancient imports had reached this area in a constant flow from the 4th century BC until the 1st and 2nd centuries AD.5 The ritual culture of the local population as shown by our excavations, differed radically from ancient Greek ritual practice but also from the rituals, described by ancient authors as Taurian. The sanctuary was isolated from the ancient coastal centers – it was not part of the territories of Chersonesos, the Bosporan Kingdom or the late Scythian state. The material from the excavations, however, gives us the opportunity to understand the sanctuary’s connection with the outside world. This material displays strong influences from the spiritual cultures of the Greeks and late Scythians, and reveals just how powerful the political impact of the Bosporan Kingdom and of Rome was on life in and around the sanctuary.6 The remoteness of the sanctuary protected it against plundering in contrast to the ancient coastal cities and settlements which periodically suffered destruction. Its rich archaeological material consists of a great number of objects which are typical for Crimean settlements and, especially, cemeteries. Among the abundant imports found there are objects which are valuable

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Fig. 1. Plan of the Gurzuf Saddle sanctuary.

and rather rare for the territory of the northern Black Sea coast: unique coins, silver wares, glass and metal vessels, and Roman armour.7 At the earliest stage of the sanctuary’s history (7th-5th century BC) there were no imported items. Instead artifacts typical for the barbarian population of Mountainous Crimea were found, which we know from settlements and cemeteries (stone cists of pre-Scythian and Scythian periods), as well as Scythian swords (akinakes).8

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In the 4th century BC the use of imported objects and votives of precious metals began. A silver gilded plate with a representation of an eagle-headed griffin in relief belongs to that period.9 Amphorae from Herakleia Pontike, Thasos, and later – Sinope and Rhodos, appeared in the sanctuary. These fragments were found among lower jaws and teeth from sacrificed animals (primarily cattle) in an area encompassing some 600 m2. A possible explanation for the appearance of the amphorae is that they were part of a cattle trade. Such an exchange might have been carried out in the frontier zone due to the limited means of contact. In the 2nd-1st century BC we can note an increased activity within the sanctuary. The quantity of imported objects from this period is greater than before. Besides a vast number of skulls from sacrificed animals (mainly cows and bulls) as well as an abundance of broken amphorae, metal utensils, weapons, and fragments of cast glass cups of different types, rare for the northern Black Sea coastal areas, have been unearthed. 50 Hellenistic glass vessels have been restored. They came from an eastern Mediterranean production centre (probably the settlement Tel-Anafa in Upper Galilee) and can be dated to the late 2nd and first half of the 1st century BC.10 Some mosaic vessels, similar to the finds of the shipwreck near the Antikythera Island, and dated to c. 80 BC have also been found. These objects can be taken as evidence for a considerable widening of trade contacts. Particular finds (the cast glass kantharoi, skyphoi and the pieces of armor) have analogies in rich Sarmatian warrior graves. Although the ritual life of the sanctuary developed further, its users continued to follow existing local traditions. The discovery of an abundance of neatly placed cattle offerings has caused scholars to suggest that bulls were of great importance in the cult of the Taurians, and that there is a connection between the Greek etymology of the name Taurians and these animals.11 It is notable that cattle were raised on the pastures of the main range of Mountainous Crimea and only later in Antiquity was farming developed here. It was during this period that Crimea, owing to the communications between the Bosporan Kingdom and Athens, supplied Greece with grain. Finally, in late Antiquity, the mountain pastures were used mainly for goats and sheep. In the sanctuary the creation of a semi-circle made of uncut stones can be dated to the second half of the 2nd century BC (Fig. 1). The bronze details of a kline found there find an analogy in the well-known details of iron strigils from the grave in the Artjuchov Barrow on the Taman’ Peninsula (about 140 BC).12 A fragment of a gold necklace, which looks like a chain with the head of a lynx, with an oval pendant containing a purple piece of glass, also has an analogy in the Artjuchov Barrow, while something similar has been found in Olbia, as well. Together with the necklace an earring made of wire also decorated with the head of a lynx was found. Earrings with animal heads appeared in the 4th century BC and were widespread in the ancient world in the Hellenistic period. At the Gurzuf Saddle sanctuary some copper coins of Hellenistic states

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were found: four Lysimachos-type staters, two tetradrachms of Mithradates VI Eupator together with a large number of other imported wares. In the 2nd1st century BC, at the time of Mithradates Eupator, the tribes of Mountainous Crimea were drawn into contemporary political events and took part in the Mithridatic wars on the southern Black Sea coast (App. Mith. 15.67). The appearance of a series of Hellenistic objects at Gurzuf Saddle was possibly connected with these events, for example the trophies which were uncovered near the semi-circular structure. The bronze umbo of an oval shield (a scutum) was apparently given as an offering in the sanctuary by warriors after they returned home.13 Another shield and many bronze and iron details covering the two oval shields together with the above-mentioned umbo give us an opportunity to reconstruct the height of the shield to which it belonged to 109 cm. The two bronze umbos of the shield dating to the Republican period are the first such archaeological finds on record. Large parts of an iron helmet and a cheek plate are similar to parts of an iron helmet from a rich grave, possibly belonging to King Skilouros, who was buried in a mausoleum in Scythian Neapolis. Further, some La Tene objects of bronze (different handles and feet of vessels) were used as offerings, as was a horse harness, similar to those found in the rich graves of Sarmatian warriors or in the votive hoards on the eastern European steppes. In the late 1st century BC the sanctuary and its ceremonial rites radically changed. The sanctuary entered a period of prosperity as both a religious and public centre. The reformation of the cult practices was connected with rituals of burning in a new ritual complex. The construction of a rather large ritual complex with a carefully developed spatial structure, demonstrating its creators’ notions of cosmogony, tells us about a radical and definite change in the public consciousness of the population of Mountainous Crimea on the eve of the new era. The sacrificial center was in the shape of an oval with 153 holes along its perimeter. The holes contained the remains of burned skulls and the teeth of sacrificed animals. According to its structure the sanctuary was a model of the world. It was used for consecrating the existing order – spatial and social, thus the possibility of involving casual objects into it was minimum, in one word those things, which were not sanctioned by the sacred power.14 The quantity of offerings to the gods, especially imported wares, markedly increased. The composition of these votive gifts was enriched with silver and bronze statuettes of ancient deities, Bosporan and Roman coins, pieces of jewelry, various tools, weapons, and a great number of glass vessels. These imported objects were used in the rituals of the Taurians’ society, which lagged behind technologically in comparison to the achievements of ancient Greek civilization. The appearance of a cult of fire was perhaps the most important novelty at this time. We can observe such details of this ritual as the preservation of ashes and animal bones for ritual purposes, the deliberate breaking of many

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votives, including metal figurines and vessels. Certain barbaric features can be traced due to the unique preservation of the sanctuary: the use of primitive structures built of crude stones, the absence of monumental constructions, altars and temples, and of dedications and other inscriptions. The mountain top was the main object of worship. The composition and structure of the ritual center, constructed in the last decades of the first century BC, were in the form of a crescent. To this symbolic shape was added a vertically symmetric line, which connected the top of the mountain with the top (middle part) of the arc line. This magical image was completed under the surface of the earth by the digging of pits. Three groups of statuettes were centered on this symmetric line. The first one (farthest to the north) included metal figurines of a snake and young female and male deities: Artemis, Kybele, Fortuna, Hermes and Apollon. The second group (in the middle) consisted of statuettes of a horse and two male deities – Zeus and Poseidon. Only one metal figure was found in the third place on the vertical line (furthest to the south, near the top of the mountain) – it was a silver statuette of an eagle. The creators of the complex realised the ideas about the construction of the Universe in the image of a World Tree that was “drawn” in the sanctuary. Typical for this model three levels of the universe (the sky, the earth and the underworld) were represented in the structure of the sanctuary near the Gurzuf Saddle Pass. They were marked with the three different groups of votive statuettes. The underworld was indicated by grouping of the snake and of the young gods, connected with fertility cult and the ideas of death. It was placed at the roots of the World Tree. The surface of the earth and the world of the living were embodied in the figures of Zeus, Poseidon and of the horse. This sacred animal was closely connected with the trunk of the World Tree. The silver statuette of the eagle represented the birds in the crown of the World Tree. These religious views appeared in the late Paleolithic period and were idealized in the sanctuary in the form of images of a World Tree or of a World Mountain. In the last decades of the 1st century BC military offerings increased. The gap between the customs of the population of Mountainous Crimea on one side and the Bosporan Kingdom and late Scythian culture on the other was now noticeable. In the sanctuary sets of objects from this period (especially early Roman glass vessels, different adornments) are somewhat similar to those found in Pantikapaion and in the barbarian sites surrounding the Bosporan Kingdom. This suggests that there were stable and strong connections between the military nobility of the barbarian population of Mountainous Crimea and the Bosporan Kingdom, which in turn had formal relations with the neighboring barbarian world. Seemingly, a great number of imports appeared in the region via the Bosporan Kingdom.

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Coin votives The variety and state of preservation of Roman and Bosporan coins possibly testify to a special selection of these coins for sacrificial rituals, perhaps connected with magic purposes. Coins as votives played a special role in ritual practice, symbolizing the power of the state, and often offered pictures of the cult attributes and portraits of the powerful rulers who were often worshiped as gods.15 It is probably no coincidence that the coins of late 1st century BC and the 1st century AD from the sanctuary at Gurzuf Saddle carry images of the most important political leaders of the Roman epoch, who used their influence on the political developments of the Black Sea coastal areas. It is possible that the sanctuary situated high in the mountains, closely followed the events, which were taking place in the world outside or “below.” We can assume that all changes in the political situation and the rise to power of new Bosporan and Roman rulers were marked by a new series of coin votives.16 This is supported by the fact that among the 313 coins from the sanctuary most were dedicated when newly minted; they are excellently preserved and display an extraordinary variety. There are even denarii of emperors who were in power for very short periods (Otho and Vitellius). One can illustrate the entire histories of Rome and the Bosporan Kingdom from the middle of the 1st century BC to the 1st century AD on the basis of the portraits from the coins found at Gurzuf Saddle. Gold coins struck by the Bosporan kings began to appear in the sanctuary for the first time during the reign of Asander, who was married to Dynamis, a granddaughter of Mithradates VI Eupator. There are two staters of Asander: one which is dated K (20th year of his reign = 31 BC) and another dated ZK (27th year of his reign = 24 BC).17 Together with other Bosporan coins, these staters testify to a strengthening of Bosporan political influence on the barbarian population of Taurica. It is very important to note one unique coin from the sanctuary — a golden stater of Dynamis, dated to the 177th year of the Bosporan era (ZOE = 21 ВC). The previous earliest known stater of Dynamis, dated to 17 BC is kept in the State Historical Museum in Moscow. On the obverse is a bust of Dynamis to the right and the legend includes the title of the queen. Dynamis became the ruler either after the death of Asander or after he was removed from power.18 The stabilisation of the political and economical situation in the Bosporan Kingdom in the late 1st century BC, when it came within the sphere of Roman interests, coincides with a period of prosperity in the sanctuary near Gurzuf Saddle Pass. At this time more coins from the Bosporan Kingdom and Rome began to be accumulated. Roman coins can be regarded as a small part of the subsidies received by the Bosporan Kingdom (since the time of Dynamis) for the purpose of keeping the surrounding barbarian world peaceful. The submission of the Bosporan rulers to Rome was reflected in the minting of coins, which showed similarities to the Roman coins.

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A gold coin of Aspourgos, the son of Dynamis, with the new date of coinage – the 314th year of the Bosporan era (AIT = 17 AD) has also been found. It is well-known that Aspourgos subdued both the Scythians and the Taurians (CIRB 40). On the obverse of the Aspourgos stater is the head of Tiberius facing to the right, and on the reverse is the head of Agrippa facing to the right, as well as the monogram “BAP” on the left. The Bosporan influence on the population of Taurica was maintained during the reign of Aspourgos’ elder son, Mithradates VIII (39‑45 AD). He minted gold coins, which were distinguished from other Bosporan coins by their design. On these coins the image of the emperor is represented on the obverse. On the reverse there is a picture of Nike with a wreath, palm branch and the complete name and title of Mithradates. This shows his wish to pursue a policy, independent of Rome. Two staters of Mithradates VIII, both of which were found at the Gurzuf Saddle sanctuary, were struck by the same pair of stamps in the 337th year of the Bosporan era (ZAT = 40 AD). Both coins bear this date unknown from the previous know specimens.19 The staters of Mithradates VIII are the most recent finds of Bosporan gold coins from the site. As we know from Tacitus, Claudius organized a military expedition against Mithradates VIII. The Roman-Bosporan war (45‑49 AD) ended with the defeat of Mithradates. But these events happened in a period when the sanctuary’s golden period was near its end, just before it entered a period of decline. Before the appearance of the Romans in the Crimea any proper contacts between the Crimean Mountain region and Chersonesos cannot be traced on the basis of the sanctuary finds. In the period of the sanctuary’s prosperity the coins of Chersonesos were not used for sacrificial purposes by the barbarians of Mountainous Crimea despite the territorial proximity of the city. The reason for this could be unfriendly relations caused by the subordinate position of Chersonesos in relation to Rome and the Bosporan Kingdom, thus limiting Chersonesos’ role in the political arena. It is quite possible, that the population of Mountainous Crimea played an active part in the complex relations between the Bosporan Kingdom and Chersonesos taking the side of Bosporos on the eve of the new era. It should not be forgotten that the territory of Chersonesos on the Herakleian peninsula was expanded after it was seized by the Greeks. The Taurians were forced out from a large part of their native land both after the establishment of Chersonesos and later. The excavations discovered many settlements belonging to the Taurian and Kizil-Koba cultures which had been situated in the area before the appearance of the Greeks. From the 6th-5th centuries BC on the Taurians began to concentrate around the southwestern part of the main mountain range, because it was the safest area in the Crimea during the Greek period.

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Roman objects in the sanctuary and Roman activity in the Crimea From the middle of the 1st century BC (when the period of Roman influence and entrance into the region began) the local population had definite contacts with Roman culture, as a result of which they obtained Roman objects. Perhaps these objects were dedicated in the sanctuary at different periods (many sanctuaries of various European tribes were full of trophies taken from the Romans). During the excavations of the sanctuary at the Gurzuf Saddle Pass hundreds of objects and thousands of fragments of Roman artifacts belonging to the late Republican and early Imperial periods were discovered: coins, metal figurines, jewelry, glass, metal and red-glazed vessels, window panes, tools, writing accessories, details of military uniforms, and armaments. The majority of the finds are dated to the 1st century BC and the first half of the 1st century AD. Various periods of Roman penetration into the Crimea are differently represented by the finds from the Gurzuf Saddle.20 That is why the collection of Roman objects from the sanctuary may serve as an important source for the studying of Roman influence and the immediate presence of Romans in the northern Pontic region as well as their appearances near the shores of southern Crimea. Roman military equipment is usually found in places where Roman troops have camped, but here they are found in a sanctuary high-up in the mountains. This is the largest collection found within the entire territory of the Black Sea coast and unique in its composition. Besides arrowheads of catapults, spearheads, fragments of three to four Roman swords of the Mainz type and their scabbards, and spurs, there are details of two bronze helmets (cheek plates, forehead guards, a handle of the Coolus type for fastening the helmet during a march), and many fragments of a Montefortino type bronze helmet. The Roman coat of mail (lorica hamata) which had been cut into pieces in the sanctuary (848 fragments) is also unique. A group of early Roman hinged arc fibulae from the second half of the 1 century BC to the first half of the 1 century AD (17 items) includes different variants of the Alesia type and the early Aucissa type (made of bronze, silver, iron and gold). Golden hinged fibulae of an arched shape with a knob at the end of the hasp and an inset of a drop-shaped garnet represent a further development of the early Roman hinged arched fibulae of the Alesia type (mid-1st century BC to 15 AD). These fibulae are known in Western Europe in places where Roman legions have been present, but they are extraordinarily rare in the northern Black Sea coastal areas. Only one specimen of an Alesia type fibula, made of gold from the Ak-Burun Barrow near Kerch was known in Crimea before the find at Gurzuf Saddle. Of special interest are some unique fibulae: a dolphin-shaped one, the socalled omega-shaped one, and a brooch with a glass cameo. There are also such details from a Roman military uniform as a buckle with a sleeping Pan,

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some bronze and silver buckles from Norico-Pannonian belts dated to the 10‑40s AD, as well as plaques with umbos in the center and silver rivets which would have ornamented sword belts. A massive cast silver ring with sculptural representation of two snake heads which had a cubic box in their open mouths was covered by engraving which imitated snake skin. The insets for eyes were made of green glass. The surface of the box was covered with soldered gold ornament in a crescent shape. Similar rings with the terminations of snake heads very close to each other are well known from finds at Herculaneum and Pompeii. Stratigraphic data points to the fact that the crescent-shaped bronze plaque (apparently a detail of a signum) found in the sanctuary was offered there in the last third of the 1st century BC. This and other evidence confirm our assumption of Roman military activity in the Taurian region in connection with the internal strife within the Bosporan Kingdom in the first decades of the reign of the Augustus. One other group of objects could be attributed to the events of the Roman-Bosporan war of AD 45‑49, when Romans had to make an effort to neutralize the separatist tendencies of Mithradates VIII. A group of Roman objects from the second half of the 1st and the early 2nd century AD pertaining to the period of the Roman military presence in the North Pontic region is likewise noteworthy. The pieces of Roman military equipment from the sanctuary among which four chronological groups could be singled out may reflect the unstable situation in the Crimea which was connected with the complicated relations that existed between Rome, the Bosporan Kingdom and Chersonesos, as well as local tribes. The objects might have been donated to the sanctuary by the military elite of the local mountain population. This region was under the influence of the Bosporan Kingdom and supported Bosporos in the period of the establishment of Roman influence in the Northern Pontic region. This took place in the second half of the 1st century BC – first half of the 1st century AD, when the sanctuary was at the peak of its glory. From the second half of the 1st century AD on, Roman gold coins were used in rituals at the sanctuary instead of Bosporan gold coins. Six aurei were found belonging to Tiberius, Claudius, Nero (2 coins), and Vespasianus (2 coins) respectively. Rome had previously carried it out its policy through the rulers of the Bosporan Kingdom, but after the barbarian threat towards Chersonesos diminished and the Romans strengthened their position in Taurica, the influence of the Bosporan Kingdom declined. In the second half of the 1st century AD (at the beginning of the Roman military presence in the region) the sanctuary gradually lost its former significance as an important social and religious center. The ritual structure that had existed during its high period began to decline. Imported wares occurred more rarely. The decline of the sanctuary coincided with the beginning of the Roman military presence in the Northern Black Sea coastal region and on the southern coast of Crimea (60 AD). This time is marked by the appearance of

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Chersonesean staters. Thus, within a 100 year interval isolated coins of Chersonesos (the military base of the Romans on the Northern Black Sea Coast) appeared at the sanctuary. A unique stater of the city of Chersonesos from 95/96 AD is the most recent gold coin from the sanctuary. On the obverse of this coin there is the head of a divinity with a snake to the left and an inscription. On the reverse there is Parthenos in full figure, wearing long clothes, in the characteristic pose of an archer, with her weight on her left leg, the monogram IIAP, the date PK (year 120 of the Chersonesean era = 95/96 AD). Parthenos is depicted with a tower crown on her head and a bow in her hand. She carries an arrow taken from the arrow case in her raised right hand.21 A number of essays have been devoted to analyses of the rare gold minting of ancient Chersonesos. Before the find at the Gurzuf Saddle six specimens of Chersonesean staters were known – from the years 71, 73, 104, 109, 131 and 158 of the Chersonesean era (from 47 to 134 AD). These had been purchased by museums from antique dealers. In all of these instances the circumstances of their discovery were unknown. Our stater, which enlarges the number of known specimens, demonstrates a new date of minting. The proposal by A.N. Zograf that the minting of the rare golden staters in Chersonesos (as in Bosporos) was regulated by Rome in accordance with a general eastern policy has been considered and accepted by all the scholars.22 Following the pictures from the Chersonesean coins, one can imagine the sculptural representations of Parthenos – the main divinity of the city. At first, she was represented in the image of Artemis with a deer, and later she looked like the stern defender of the city. From the middle of the 2nd century AD the ritual complex for burnt offerings was abandoned and covered with grass. Chronologically the degradation of the sanctuary coincides with the beginning of the Roman military presence in Crimea in the 60s AD. The appearance of the Romans on the southern coast of Crimea is connected with the erection of the Roman fortress Charax. The influence of the Romans was thus strengthened and Chersonesos now became their main military base in Crimea. At the same time the sanctuary in Mountainous Crimea weakened further. Earlier it had fulfilled a role as an important public center, but from this period on it became merely a small shrine situated along a mountain road. One cannot, however, conclude that this was caused by a decline in, or the extermination of, the local population and their economic situation. The Romans oppressed the social and military activity of the local tribes and their nobility. This means that the population of Mountainous Crimea lost their role as an independent political entity that the Bosporan rulers depended on and used for their mutual benefit in the struggle against Chersonesos. With this radical change in the political situ­ ation the influence of the Bosporan Kingsdom was diminished. The strained relations between the local population and the Romans in the beginning of this period can also be seen in the material of the excavations from the outer defensive wall of the Roman fortress Charax. It was rapidly

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and carelessly constructed in the first third of the 2nd century AD23 and its erection could well be connected with a threat from the local population. The discovery of a large number of settlement remains from the first centuries AD, situated along the southern coast of the Crimea, and containing ancient pottery similar to finds from Charax and Chersonesos24 allows us to suppose that the Romans could organize peaceful and mutually beneficial relations with the local population of Mountainous Crimea. Moreover, the region’s relations with the Mediterranean that were established in ancient times created favorable conditions for the reception of Christian culture in the following Byzantine period.

Conclusion Based on the results of the archaeological research of the last decades it is now possible to use more efficiently the resulting finds in the analysis of the problem of contacts between the population of Mountainous Crimea and the ancient more civilized world. This may help us to achieve a better understanding of the problem of the relationship between local tribes and Greeks and Romans. Mountainous Crimea were a distinctive frontier zone in the ancient world that never saw a constant state power. This means that we may view the cultural processes that occurred here as merely “meetings of cultures”. The history of these cultural contacts and meetings developed through different stages. With the beginning of the Greek colonization of Crimea the first meeting of the different cultures can be connected with the entry of the Greeks into Crimea (the 6th-5th centuries BC). In the territory of the western part of Mountainous Crimea this colonization had an unfriendly and destructive character because the Taurians were forced off the Heraklean peninsula as a result of the foundation of Chersonesos.25 The contacts were minimal after the Taurians left their original locations and settled around the main mountain range. Despite the extremely favorable conditions and mild climate of the southern coast of Crimea, particularly for growing grapes, one can observe a total absence of Greek settlements there. It was a closed zone for them. The burial culture of the local tribes of that period employed megalithic tombs. Chersonesos situated in the immediately neighboring territory was considered more dangerous than, for instance, Pantikapaion by the mountain population. Besides that, Bosporos unlike Chersonesos had strong traditions of coexistence with the surrounding barbarian world, especially in connection with the barbarian settlements to the north of Theodosia on the Kerch Peninsula. The favorable conditions of beneficial cultural contacts began in the 4th century BC. This can be seen in the dissemination of amphorae (Thasos, Herakleia, Sinope, Rhodos, and Knidos) in the territory of Mountainous Crimea, notably in the finds of the excavations of the sanctuary at Gurzuf Saddle and

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the cemetery in Upper Massandra near the palace of Alexander III. These contacts might be linked with the exchange of cattle from the mountain pastures for products in imported amphorae from Bosporos. The 3rd century BC is not characterized by noticeable finds, but in the 2nd century a new period of contacts connected with the strengthening of the activities of the mountain tribes began. This activity was displayed in the appearance of prestigious objects of metal. From this period the population of Mountainous Crimea was more closely connected with the outside world, possibly primarily with the Sarmatians and late Scythians. Similar compositions of grave goods have been found in the rich Sarmatian barrows of southern Russia and Ukraine and in the mausoleum of Scythian Neapolis as well as in the sanctuary at the Gurzuf Saddle Pass. This shows where the militarized groups of the barbarian population were concentrated. Particular combinations of objects were found there: iron and bronze helmets of the Montefortino type, La-Tene style weapons, bronze vessels and horse harnesses, cast glass vessels, necklaces with butterfly pendants, unguentaria, late black-glazed and early red-glazed vessels, strigils, amphorae from Rhodos, terracottas, cast glass kantharoi, and even bronze fittings for furniture. Mithradates Eupator played a definite role in the organization of military alliances with the barbarian tribes of Mountainous Crimea – a practice which survived even into the early Medieval period when the Goths of Crimea served the Byzantine Empire. The connections with late Scythian culture can be traced from the 2nd century BC, and all the periods of the sanctuary’s development (the rise, flourishing and fall) have the same chronology as the late Scythian culture. The sanctuary was situated in the centre of the Taurian area and later of Crimean Gothia. This mountainous region with its high pastures was the main source for the prosperity of the population who had strict religious traditions which they protected from foreign influence during the entire Greek period of Crimean history. From the beginning of the Roman period (mid-1st century BC) the situation changed radically. The Romans not only tirelessly sought to establish their influence not only on the internal politics of Chersonesos and Bosporos and on the relations between these states, but they also tried to establish peaceful relations with the surrounding barbarian tribes through subsidies for Bosporos or diplomatic gifts for the barbarian nobility (sets of silver vessels, etc.). All these mechanisms can be observed in the sanctuary at Gurzuf Saddle. Further, we have evidence that indicates that the first attempts of Roman military actions in Mountainous Crimea (in the late 1st century BC and in the 40s AD) were not successful, since many trophies of Roman origin were sacrificed in the sanctuary. At the beginning of the new era ancient sources mention Scytho-Taurian tribes, who inhabited the range. This might be a result of a barbarian consolidation as a result of external threats. Evidently, the ScythoTaurian tribes were closely connected with Bosporos in the period when the Romans established their power.

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In the period of Roman military presence the situation in the Crimean Mountain area was stabilized according to Roman plans. A proper dissemination of ancient material culture began and mutually beneficial economic relations were established causing the loss of political independence until the Romans abandoned the Crimean Mountain region in the middle of the 3rd century AD. Notes 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

Ol’hovskij 1981, 56. Noviсhenkova 1996, 182, fig. 1. Novičenkov & Novičenkova 2003, 35, figs. 2, 3. Novičenkova 1994a, 59‑86. Noviсhenkova 1996, 186‑188. Novičenkova 1994b, 53‑58. Novičenkova 1998, 51‑67. Novičenkova, 1995, 134. Novičenkova, 1995, 126. Novičenkova K.V. 2002, 15‑26. Tolstoj 1918, 135; Rostovcev 1919, 194. Maksimova 1979, 29, 97, 100. Novičenkova 1998, 53‑54, figs. 3, 4. Novičenkova 1994b, 53. Novičenkova 1994b, 53‑54. Novičenkova 1994b, 54‑55. Anochin 1986, 78, 148. Anochin 1986, 150. Anochin 1986, 151. Novičenkova 1998, 65‑66. Novičenkova 1985, 260‑262. Zograf 1951, 155. Blavatskij 1951, 278, 281, 291; Novičenkov & Novičenkova 2002, 29. Novičenkova 1984, 308. Zubar’ & Kravčenko 2003, 192.

Bibliography Anochin, V.A. 1986. Monetnoe delo Bospora. Kiev. Blavatskij, V.D. 1951. Charaks, MatIsslA 19, 250‑291. Maksimova, M.S. 1979. Artjuchovskij kurgan. Leningrad. Novičenkov, V.I. & N.G. Novičenkova 2002. O nižnej oboronitel’noj stene rimskoj kreposti Charaks, MAIET 9, Simferopol’, 27‑36. Novičenkov, V.I. & N.G. Novičenkova 2003. Ob istoričeskoj topografii “gotskoj zemli” v Krymu, in: Vostok – Zapad: mežkonfessional’nyj dialog. Sevastopol’, 35‑42.

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Novičenkova, K.V. 2002. Stekljannye gladkostennye čašy iz svjatilišča antičnogo vremeni u perevala Gurzufskoe Sedlo, MAIET 9, Simferopol’, 15‑26. Novičenkova, N.G. 1984. Raboty Jaltinskogo kraevedčeskogo muzeja, AO 1982 g., Moskva, 307-308. Novičenkova, N.G. 1985. O nachodke novogo chersonesskogo statera, SovA 1, 260‑263. Novičenkova, N.G. 1994a. Svjatilišče Krymskoj Jajly, VDI 2, 59‑86. Novičenkova, N.G. 1994b. O kontaktach naselenija Gornogo Kryma s Bosporom po materialam svjatilišča u perevala Gurzufskoe Sedlo, Bosporskij sbornik 4, Moskva, 53‑58. Novičenkova, N.G. 1995. Il santuario del passo di Gurzuf, monumento di epoca antica e medievale nei Monti di Crimea, in: E.A. Arslan & C. Della Porta (eds.), Dal Mille al Mille. Tesori e popoli dal Mar Nero. Milano, 122‑135. Noviсhenkova, N.G. 1996. The Sanctuary of the Crimean Yaila, AncCivScytSib 3.2‑3, 181‑217. Novičenkova, N.G. 1998. Rimskoe voennoe snarjaženie iz svjatilišča u perevala Gurzufskoe Sedlo, VDI 2, 51‑67. Ol’chovskij, V.S. 1981. Naselenie Kryma po dannym antičnych avtorov, SovA 3, 52‑65. Rostovcev, M.I. 1919. Novaja kniga ob ostrove Belom i Tavrike, IAK 65, 177‑197. Tolstoj, I.I. 1918. Ostrov Belyj i Tavrika na Evksinskom Ponte. Petrograd. Zograf, A.N. 1951. Antičnye monety (MatIsslA, 16) Moskva-Leningrad. Zubar’, V.M. & E.A. Kravčenko 2003. Interpretation of a group of Archaeological sites in the vicinity of Tauric Chersonesos, in: P. Guldager Bilde, J.M. Højte & V.F. Stolba (eds.), The Cauldron of Ariantas. Studies presented to A.N. Ščeglov on the occasion of his 70th birthday. Aarhus, 185‑195. Abbreviations AO CIRB IAK MAIET MatIsslA SovA VDI

Archeologičeskie otkritija. Corpus inscriptionum regni Bosporani, ed. V. Struve. Moskva 1965. Izvestija imperatorskoj Archeologičeskoj Komissii. Materialy po archeologii, istorii i etnografii Tavrii. Materialy i issledovanija po archeologii SSSR. Sovetskaja archeologija. Vestnik drevnej istorii.

Apsaros: A Roman Fort in Southwestern Georgia Emzar Kakhidze

In southwestern Georgia, at modern Gonio, ancient Apsaros, 15 km to the south of the city of Batumi (Fig. 1) at a strategically important site, where the roads leading to the east (to Sebastopolis, modern Suchumi) and to the south (via the Čorochi River basin to Armenia Minor and Adjaristskali Gorge to eastern Georgia) join stands a rectangular fort (Figs. 2‑3).1 Its area covers 4.75 ha, with a length of 222 m and a width of 195 m. The total length of its walls’ perimeter is 900 m, the height of the walls 5 m, and 7 m at the corners where towers were erected. The lower part of the walls is faced with large, dressed ashlars. The western wall has symmetrically arranged counterforts, while a later superstructure built of unworked stones is visible on its upper part. At present the fort has 18 towers, but originally it had 22. Four main towers stand at the corners of the walls, with stone stairs inside the fort. Formerly the fort had four entrances but today all but the western gate have been bricked up. To the east, the fort was protected by the mountains, to the north, by the river,

 

Fig. 1. Map of the eastern Mediterranean and the Black Sea.

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Fig. 2. Plan of Apsaros.

Fig. 3. Plan of Apsaros.  

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Fig. 4. Ruins of a bath, garrison mosque, sewage, water conduits, and cobblestone pavement.

while it was relatively unprotected to the south. This, no doubt, explains why the walls of the fort are mainly reinforced on this side. The ruins of a bath and the garrison mosque are preserved within the extant fort, as well as the sewers, water conduits and cobblestone pavement (Fig. 4).

The historical context At first, at the end of the 1st and the beginning of the 2nd century AD, the Romans built temporary military camps of timber (pila murilia) on the Kolchian

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305

 

Fig. 5. Apsaros on the Peutinger Table.

littoral (for example the original Phasis described by Arrian in Periplus 9).2 Probably, the castella murata in Apsaros was built earlier.3 Unfortunately, the architecture of this fort (Figs. 6‑9) is not completely understood and therefore our knowledge is incomplete. According to V. Lekvinadze, the oldest structures brought to light to date are datable to the Roman period (large ashlars).

 

Figs. 6-9. Apsaros fort.

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Fig. 10. Plan of bath house.

The walls built of rubble stones and bricks must be from Byzantine times, while the merlons were added during Ottoman dominance.4 Some scholars suggest that Apsaros may easily be compared with the early Byzantine forts.5 According to ancient sources and especially archaeological data (see further below), the fort was not in use for about 250 years (from the 4th century to the early half of the 6th century AD). During the period of the Byzantine-Iranian War and afterwards, the importance of Apsaros was greatly reduced, and it seems that it had become absolutely impossible to rebuild such a strong fortification.6 The only possible exception may be the restoration of the fort after the Boranis’ invasions of the east coast of the Black Sea during either the second half of the 3rd century or the beginning of 4th century,7 but this point of view needs further examination. Despite the fact that Caucasus was routed by the Roman commander Pompey as early as 65 BC,8 it was only after Nero’s increased concentration of Roman military forces in the East9 that a special so-called “Pontic Limes”10 or Pontos-Caucasian frontier11 was formed. This was done in order to reinforce Roman positions in southern Caucasus and to control the region of northern Caucasus.12

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307

 

Fig. 11. Plan of the barracks.

The main reason for such actions was Nero’s intention of sending his troops on an expedition to northern Caucasus (for this purpose Legio I Italica and the Rhine frontier élite Legio XVI Gemina were formed13). This, at first sight, adventurous idea served a rather more serious purpose. Nero wanted not only to repeat the deeds of the past and indeed to surpass them, he also, and perhaps most importantly, had particular geo-strategic interests. He knew that the territory of Caucasus offered an important passage connecting the Empire with

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Fig. 12. Plan of the principia.

India.14 Despite some not quite successful actions, Rome had actually managed to establish a number of very important footholds in the region that allowed her to control the eastern part of southern Caucasus and ensured reliable communication with Bosporos where dangerous movements of the nomads had already begun.15 The Roman Empire’s power was further institutionalized at the time of Vespasian and Titus. This brought a new wave of expansionistic foreign policy distinctively aimed towards the East. Roman aggression was, of

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309

 

Fig. 13. Sewers and water supply of the Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman periods.

course, met with resistance. The local population of ­Trapezous, for example, withstood Roman advances in AD 69 (Tac. Hist. 3.47‑48). At the same time, the situation was also rather tense in the mountainous areas close to Apsaros (Arr. Periplus 15). The problem of the Alani was serious, and the related factor

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Fig. 14. Amphoras.

of the eastern Georgian state (Iberia) was also an issue, the latter methodically moving towards the sea.16 Rome had actually lost Armenia and because of this it became necessary to concentrate more troops along the frontier territories not only of Armenia Maior and Syria but along the whole eastern frontier (Tac. Ann., 2.6; Hist. 3.47; Jos. Flav. Bel. Jud, 7.220‑222, 230‑233; Suet. Nero 18,

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311



 

Fig. 15. Red-glazed bowls.

Vesp. 8. 4). This was followed by the establishment of strong military bases at Trapezous, Hyssiporto, Apsaros, Phasis, Sebastopolis and Pityous.17 According to Plinius (NH 6. 12), Apsaros was a functioning fort already in the 70s AD,18 which is confirmed by archaeological evidence as well. Copper coins struck in the names of Tiberius, Nero, Vespasian and Domitian

312

 

Fig. 15. Red-glazed bowls.

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(Fig. 26.1)19 have been discovered here, as well as amphorae from the 1st century AD believed to have been produced in Italy (Fig. 14.3) and Kos,20 dummyhandled red-glazed bowls (Fig. 15.1‑2),21 Sinopean louteria D (Fig. 23),22 glass vessel (Figs. 16, 17.1, 17.3‑4),23 etc. In AD 132 Arrian, the governor of Cappadocia, traveled the Black Sea coast. He mentions five cohorts (speira) stationed in Apsaros (Periplus 6). They were without doubt auxiliary units.24 Incidentally, a garrison of this size25 could be found only in a couple of castella on the Black Sea shore; only 400 élite soldiers were stationed in Phasis (Arr. Periplus 9) and just 20 horsemen in Hyssiporto, modern Canayeri, 26 km east of Trapezous (Arr. Periplus 7). This situation seems to be accounted for by the expansion of Iberia to the Black Sea littoral. This process of expansion was brought to fruition by the Zydritae, loyal to Pharasmanes II, King of Iberia.26 Other sources also report on the Roman garrison at Apsaros. Thus, according to an inscription (ILS 2660) found at Abella, Italy, Marcius Plaetorius Celer, decorated by Trajan for his participation in the Parthian war (113‑117), had praepositus numerorum tendentium in Ponto Absaro.27 Another important piece of evidence is a fragment of a 2nd century AD papyrus written by a veteran of Apsaros and discovered in Fayum, Egypt. The papyrus refers to the veteran Martial who had served in the cohors II Claudiana and was stationed at Apsaros.28 Along with this evidence the deployment of that particular cohort at Apsaros is confirmed by a tile discovered in 1995 with a 2nd century Latin inscription (Fig. 19).29 According to another tile (Fig. 20) and an Italic bronze tripod lamp (Fig. 21) with Latin inscriptions we may consider that both cohors sagitarii and cohors Aurelia might have been stationed there in 2nd century.30 The 3rd century AD may be considered a turning point in the history of Apsaros. In the mid-250s the Boranoi gained access to the Black Sea by way of the Crimea.31 Zosimus tells of the raids of the barbarians on the Kolchian littoral in the mid-3rd century (Hist. Nova 1.31‑33). Historical sources say nothing about the destruction of Apsaros at the time, but observations of the stratigraphy of the fort site show that at the turn of the 4th century the fort temporarily ceased functioning. The cultural layers of this period bear traces of destruction.32 From the end of the 3rd century AD the centre of the Roman Empire gradually shifted to the East. Thanks to Constantine the Great, the Romans managed to strengthen their positions in the eastern part of the Black Sea (Zos. Hist. Nova 2.33). They, supposedly, stationed their garrisons at Apsaros as well. Lack of archaeological data warns us to be careful here. Hypothetically there could have been some fundamental changes in the 340s AD because Lazica, modern western Georgia, became more powerful.33 Apparently, in order to neutralize the increasing strength of Lazica, the Romans gave preference to Tsikhisdziri, located nearer to the centre of the Lazica-Rioni River area.34 Significantly enough, the 4th century sources (Sophronius, Dorotheos of Tyre and Epiphanus of Cyprus) describe the considerably remote developments

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in relation to Apsaros.35 In more reliable sources, e.g. the Res Gestae by Ammianus Marcellinus, nothing is said about Apsaros in the description of the Black Sea littoral, whereas Phasis and Dioskourias (Sebastopolis) are named as towns (22.8.24). Nor can Apsaros be found in Notitia Dignitatum, where Roman military units and their deployment in Dux Armenia are mentioned (Or. 38).36 Certainly, an anonymous source repeats Arrian’s text word for word, but he has obviously used additional sources. Thus, he refers to Apsaros as well as Kordylon and Athenai as a village (Periplus 40). According to the Life of Daniel the Stylite the borders of Lazica shifted to Hopa to the south of Apsaros in the 460s-470s.37 It cannot be ruled out that Apsaros and its surrounding territories was within Iberia during the reign of Vachtang Gorgasali (second half of the 5th century AD) and his successors.38 According to Procopius, the Byzantines found Apsaros and Phasis entirely devastated in the 540s (De bello Gothico 8.2.12‑14). In his other work (De Aedificiis, 560), Procopius makes no mention of Apsaros. It is not accidental either that the same author, as well as Stephanos Byzantios (s.v. Ἀϕύρτιδες), mainly speak about the past of Apsaros. Thus, Justinian’s novels list the cities and forts in Lazica and the Pontus Polemoniacus (Jus. Nov. 31), among which one cannot find Apsaros.

The archaeological evidence Archaeological data also support the evidence preserved in our written sources. Almost none of the specimens of the numerous terra sigillata vessels found in Apsaros are decorated with relief ornaments, whereas normally this kind of pottery is lavishly ornamented with relief, geometric and floral motifs in the 4th and especially 5th centuries. Unlike Tsikhisdziri and Pičvnari not a single fragment of so-called blue-spot glass is found here. This glass type appears in the latter half of the 4th century and continues into the early 5th century. Neither have fragments of 4th-5th century Sinopean amphorae with conical bodies been found whereas there are many specimens from this production centre dated to the 2nd-3rd and 6th centuries AD in Apsaros. Not a single coin among the rich numismatic material found here is dated to the second half of the 4th, the 5th or the first quarter of the 6th century. In the stratigraphy of the fort, in particular, between the cultural layers of the Roman and the Byzantine periods, a 20‑25 cm sterile stratum is discernible, which must have been formed in the 4th-5th centuries.39 As is well known, the ruling class of Lazica, and even Iberia was not much interested in communication by sea but was instead preoccupied with strengthening the fortifications of the hinterland. That is why the fort at Apsaros was deserted from the latter half of the 4th until the early half of the 6th centuries AD, and why Procopius found Apsaros totally destroyed. During the excavations rich material from the 1st-3rd centuriy AD was found. Particularly diverse are the ceramics, although amphorae constitute about 80 % of the pottery. Several types of imported amphorae (Fig. 14.3‑11)

Apsaros: A Roman Fort in Southwestern Georgia

 

Fig. 16. Glass vessels.

315

316

Emzar Kakhidze

 

Fig. 17. Glass vessels.

 

 

‑

 

‑

 

 

 

 

‑

‑

‑

 

‑

 

 

 

as well as terra sigillata (Fig. 15) from this period can be singled out and are mainly products from the southern Black Sea region and the Mediterranean.40 The same applies to numismatic finds (coins of Agrippa I, Tiberius, Nero (Fig. 26.1), Vespasian, Domitian, Trajan (Fig. 26.2 3), Hadrian (Fig. 26.4 5), Antoninus Pius and Faustina, Septimius Severus, Commodus (Fig. 26.6), Gordian III and Tranquilina, as well as Aurelian),41 glass ware (Figs. 16 17),42 tiles (Figs. 19 20), lamps (Figs. 21 22), louteria (Figs. 23 25),43 a cosmetic instrument of bone with dot-ornament, terraccotta (Fig. 27), statue, antefix, various tools (Fig. 28), stone bullets (Fig. 29), stoppers (Fig. 30), ink-wells (Fig. 31), etc.44 A particularly rich hoard dated to the first centuries AD was discovered in 1974 during road construction on a slope near the Gonio fort (Fig. 18).45

Apsaros: A Roman Fort in Southwestern Georgia

Fig. 18. Hoard from Gonio.

317

318

 

Fig. 18. Hoard from Gonio.

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Apsaros: A Roman Fort in Southwestern Georgia

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Remains of two bath-houses (the so-called Kastellbaden) were discovered at the southern gate of the fort. One bath was of small size. It had only a boiler room and sections for hot water. The other bath-house is more monumental in scale, probably designed for the soldiers. Four sections (the caldarium, tepidarium, frigidarium and apodyterium) were excavated here (Fig. 10). Close to the baths stood the remains of a barrack. The walls were built of fine-cut stones using clay mortar. The excavations revealed stone bases with quadrangular holes to accommodate timber columns (Fig. 11). Close to the northern wall the remains of a presumed principia have been identified. So far, part of the walls and the foundation have been identified (Fig. 12). Wooden structures seem to have prevailed in the interior architecture of the fort, stone being used mainly for the foundation and, occasionally, the ground floor.46 A quadrangular water cistern from the Roman period was discovered in the western section of the southern wall of the fort. The water system was connected with the cistern by clay pipes and a stone distributor. A well was found here as well. Various systems of sewerage and water supply from the Roman, Byzantine and Ottoman periods were discovered here, too (Fig. 13). In 1997 the remains of an amphora kiln from the 2nd-3rd centuries (Fig. 32) were also found in the south-western corner of the inner fort.47 Unlike what is true of the era of Greek colonization and the Hellenistic period there are no obvious signs of mutual influences. Only two types of local amphorae from the second half of the 2nd century and the first half of the 3rd century AD were discovered in the fort (Fig. 14.1‑2).48 Sometimes local brown-clay specimens imitating Sinopean louteria are also encountered in the cultural layers of the end of the 2nd century and the 3rd century AD (Fig. 34).49 Some other types of contemporary pottery confirm the establishment of a use of foreign shapes in local craftsmanship (Fig. 33).50 Unlike earlier periods, Roman civilization never reached the hinterland. A large number of imported pieces, dated to the end of the 1st to the beginning of the 2nd centuries AD (Figs. 14.3, 15.1‑2, 16, 17.1, 3‑4), have been found at Apsaros. This is in contrast to the other Roman forts unearthed in Kolchis, as the Apsaros garrison did not have close contacts with the local communities. Such products were mostly used by the Roman military units. Typical Roman canabae were not introduced here or in other forts.51 No im-

Fig. 20. Tiles with Latin inscription.  

Fig. 19. Tile with Latin inscription.

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Emzar Kakhidze

 

Fig. 21. Bronze tripod with Latin inscription.

 

ported goods have been found in the surroundings of the fort, apart from a small hoard from Satechia and one glass vessel from Zanaqidzeebi (Fig. 35). Imported goods (mainly products from Asia Minor) from the 2nd century are frequent finds in the Kolchian coastal areas where the Romans established their bases at strategically important sites, first of all in Trapezous.52

Apsaros: A Roman Fort in Southwestern Georgia

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Fig. 22. Lamps.

From the archaeological material from other sites in western Georgia we might suppose that Roman influence could be observed in these sites’ economic spheres (e.g. the production of ceramics, weaponry, tools, jewelry, and building construction). From the 2nd and especially from the 3rd century AD goods were imported abundantly and distributed to the inner or/and high-

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Fig. 23. Louterion.

 

Fig. 24. Louterion.



 

Fig. 25. Louteria.

land regions.53 Elements of Roman culture also start to appear around forts in the coastal settlements (e.g. new customs and habits in burial practices and religious beliefs). Romanization, however, as known from other provinces of the Roman Empire, cannot be observed. In contrast to the 1st-3rd century, a tendency towards uniting “Western” and Georgian beliefs and cults is observed, although this trend was not adopted by the general public.54 In general, Roman forts can been seen as stabilizers, which somehow even precipitated the process of “urbanization” in Lazica. Roman gover-

Apsaros: A Roman Fort in Southwestern Georgia

 

Fig. 27. Terracotta.

 

Fig. 26. Roman coins.

 

Fig. 28. Tools.

Fig. 30. Stoppers.  

 

Fig. 29. Stone bullets.

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nance consolidated the political situation in the region.55 A very important result of Georgia’s relations with the Roman world was its Christianization. At the dawn of the new era Southern Caucasus was compelled to join in all the global historical processes against its will and this was followed by many significant changes. Of course, it was rather more convenient to follow the new religion within the boundaries of the Empire. It is interesting that according to Sophronius (4th century AD), the Apostle Matthias, who was chosen in place of Judas, died in Apsaros and was buried there.56 Soon after AD 300 two associates of Orentius, a military official martyred for Christianity, died in this fort as well.57 The excavations in Gonio-Apsaros are still ongoing and the study of the outside strata of the fort (Fig. 36) will further enlighten our knowledge of the monument.  

Fig. 32. Amphora kiln.  



 

Fig. 31. Ink-wells.

Apsaros: A Roman Fort in Southwestern Georgia

 

Fig. 33. Cooking pots.

 

Fig. 34. Local imitations of Sinopean louteria.

 

Fig. 35. Glass vessel from Zanaqidzeebi.

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Fig. 36. Strata outside the fort.

Notes 1 On the identification of Apsaros with the fort in Gonio, see Plontke-Lüning 2003, 7, 10; 2005, 133, no. 1. 2 Persians too erected a wooden defensive wall in the hinterlands in Kotais (Proc. De bello Gothico 8.16.16‑17) in AD 551, during the war with Byzantium in Lazica (i.e. Kolchis, modern western Georgia). 3 Unlike other contemporary forts in the region, we find not only the name of the fort of Apsaros but also a sketch of it on the Peutinger Table (10.5) (Fig. 5; Miller 1916, 636‑638). As is known, Castorius used old sources, viz. those of the

Apsaros: A Roman Fort in Southwestern Georgia

4 5 6

7 8 9

10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27

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1st -2nd century AD (Bryer & Winfield 1985, 346; cf. Plontke-Lüning 2005, 134; Gamkrelidze & Todua 2006, 94). Lekvinadze 1961, 225‑242; on the architecture in English, see Gregory 1997, 21‑25; in German, see Plontke-Lüning 2003, 13‑14; 2003, 30‑31; 2005, 138. Mitford 1974, 16319; Džaparidze 1998, 46; 2000, 41‑42. The revival of Apsaros in the first half of the 6th century AD was prevented by the shift of the Byzantine border to the north of Batumi to modern Tsikhisdziri where the fortified city of Petra was built on Justinian’s orders (Jus. Nov. 31) following the conclusion of a “permanent peace” treaty (AD 532) with Iran. In the mid-6th century the Byzantines demolished the stronghold of Petra (Agathias 5.1‑2) and, probably restored Apsaros, beginning with the south wall (Figs. 5 and 7). The strata of the Byzantine period, however, are hardly discernible in the fort and absolutely invisible outside of it (Kakhidze et al. 2002a, 52; 2002b, 262). Cf. Lekvinadze 1961, 241; Braund 1994, 182; Lordkipanidze & Noneshvili 2002, 171; Gamkrelidze & Todua 2006, 91. In detail, see Braund 1994, 152‑169. At the turn of the new era, Kolchis was in the Pontus Polemoniacus (Strab. 11.2.18), the latter being subject to the Romans. Nero was against Augustus’ internal politics and after Claudius’ timid steps he gave priority to an aggressive foreign doctrine directed towards the East. This led to an increase of Roman military forces in the region and disrupted the system of clientelae. Pontus Polemoniacus was abolished and together with Kolchis it became a part of the Empire in AD 63 (Suet. Nero 18). Lekvinadze 1969, 75‑93. Speidel 1986, 657‑660; Braund 1986, 31‑49; Kiguradze et al. 1987, 88‑92; Todua 2003, 12‑17; Gamkrelidze & Todua 2006, 60; cf. Mitford 1977, 509; Crow 1986, 77). Melikišvili 1970, 544‑548; Lordkipanidze 1989, 347‑348. See Tac. Hist. 2.32; Kolendo 1977, 399‑408. Braund 1986, 39‑44. Melikišvili 1959, 354, 368. Melikišvili 1959, 354. Melikišvili 1959, 364‑377; Gregory 1997, 11‑34. D. Braund noticed that the fort at Apsaros was “perhaps inherited from Polemon” (Braund 1994, 178), but as yet there have not been found any materials of this period in or outside the fort. Plontke-Lüning & Geyer 2003, 28‑30, figs 6‑7; 2005, 139, figs. 10‑11; Varshalomidze 2004, 141‑142, fig. 1. Chalvaši 2002, 88, figs. 7.3, 16; Kakhidze et al. 2002a, 52. Ebralidze 2005, 94, fig. 4. Ebralidze 2005, 94, fig. 50. For further details, see Djaparidze 2002, 194; Shalikadze 2004, 88, figs. 10‑14, 16‑17, 20. Bosworth 1977, 228; Speidel 1986, 658‑659; Lordkipanidze 1991, 131; Mamuladze et al. 2002, 33‑39; Gamkrelidze & Todua 2006, 66; cf. Rowell 1937, 1327‑1328; Mitford 1980, 1169‑1170. C. 1,000 men, see Mamuladze et al. 2002, 37; Gamkrelidze & Todua 2006, 66. Arr. Periplus 11; see Bosworth 1993, 250‑252; Plontke-Lüning 2005, 134. El’nickij 1938, 310‑311; Speidel 1986, 658.

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28 Speidel 1983, 657‑658. 29 See Mamuladze et al. 2002, 35, figs. 1‑2. 30 Mamuladze et al. 2002, 35‑37, figs. 3‑5; Plontke-Lüning 2003, 12; Plontke-Lüning & Geyer 2003, 27; Plonke-Lüning 2005, 135. 31 Zos. Hist. Nova 1.31; see also Luttwak 1976, 147. 32 Chalvaši & Kachidze 2004, 147. 33 Like some other eastern provinces, it remained agrarian and social or economic difficulties did not play a significant role. Most aspects of it original material culture were preserved by the Romans, especially at the inland sites. 34 Not long ago a stamped brick inscribed LEG, was found among the ruins of a fort at Moedani village, on the right bank of the Supsa River. 20 km distant from this site ruins of a quadrangular fort in Vašnari were discovered (Todua & Murvanidze 1997, 108‑111; Sadradze 2003, 20‑50). From this point of view, the 4th-century Shukhuti villa, the Ureki cemetery, and Onpareti and Khoreti thermae are interesting (Apakidze 1947, 89‑111; Zakaraja & Lekvinadze 1966, 120‑135; Sadradze et al. 1996, 31‑32; 2001, 20‑21, 27‑28), as well as the Tsikhisdziri villa of the 5th-6th centuries (Inaishvili & Tavamaishvili 2001, 36). If we take all the recent archaeological findings into consideration, we will not be able to exclude the revival of Pičvnari during the 4th-5th centuries (Vickers & Kakhidze 2004, 209‑214). 35 Vasilevskij 1909, 225‑226; Qauchčišvili 1941, 57; Migne 1967, 221. 36 Some authors (Lekvinadze 1969, 82; Bryer & Winfield 1985, 325; Braund 1994, 265) believe that Apsaros may have been renamed Valentia, as is mentioned in the Notitia dignititatum (38.3), but most historians do not agree with this idea (Adonc 1971, 327; Lomouri 1975, 68; Zuckerman 1991, 532; Chalvaši & Kachidze 2004, 148; Kachidze 2005, 38‑39; Plontke-Lüning 2003, 14, no. 87; 2005, 134). 37 Kekelidze 1961, 5‑7. 38 Qauchčišvili 1955, 173,177, 203‑204. In this connection, it is interesting that Procopius in describing the situation in the first half of the 6th century AD names an independent tribe obeying the Lazi bishops, neighboring the Trapezous district, and whose territory reached Sourmene and Rhizaeum (De bello Gothico 8.2.10‑20). According to D. Braund this tribe was located between Rhizaeum (modern Rize) and Apsaros (Braund 1994, 279; cf. Gogitidze 2002, 23). 39 Chalvaši 2004, 148‑149. 40 Chalvaši 2002, 88, fig. 7.3‑11; Kakhidze et al. 2002b, 259‑262; Fellmuth 2003, 44‑46, 49‑51; Ebralidze 2005, 94‑95, figs. 4‑32. 41 For further details, see Kakhidze et al. 2002b, 259; Varshalomidze 2004, 141‑143, figs. 1‑6. 42 Mamuladze et al. 2002, 261; Fellmuth 2003, 53‑54; Shalikadze 2004, 88‑89, figs. 10‑20. Some samples were first found in Georgia, one of these bearing the Greek inscription ΛΑΒ/ΕΤΗ/ΗΝΕ/ΙΚΗΝ ‘May you win’ (Fig.  16.1). Another finely shaped Italian krateriskos is a rare find (Fig. 16.4). 43 Ebralidze 2005, 94, figs. 50‑52, pl. 8.1‑3. The bulk of the louteria brought to light at Apsaros are Sinopean wares. Two varieties of one type are identifiable: Louteria of type I (Fig. 23) are rare in the eastern Black Sea area. They have been discovered in layers of the end of the 1st century AD and the first half of the 2nd century AD. The louteria of type II (Fig. 24), dated to the 2nd-3rd centuries, were obviously widespread. At Apsaros Herakleian louteria of the 2nd -3rd centuries AD are found as well (Fig. 25).

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44 Plontke-Lüning et al. 2002, 88‑92; Fellmuth 2003, 51‑52; Kakhidze & Mamuladze 2004, 47‑59, figs. 30‑41; Aslanishvili 2004, 152‑154, figs. 1‑5. 45 Lordkipanidze et al. 1980, 58‑77; 2001, 20; Miron & Orthman 1995, 303. 46 For further details, see Mamuladze et al. 2001, 39; Kakhidze et al. 2002a, 50‑70; Kakhidze et al. 2002b, 255‑257; Khalvashi 2002a, 142‑167). 47 Kakhidze et al. 2002a, 52, pl. 16.1‑2; 2002b, 255‑257; Chalvaši 2002, 88, pls. 3‑4. 48 Chalvaši 2002, 88, fig. 7.1‑2. 49 Ebralidze 2005, 94‑95, fig. 53. 50 Kakhidze et al. 2002a, 53; Kakhidze & Mamuladze 2004, 54, figs. 23‑25. 51 Local municipality and settlement in Apsaros used to play the same role as civilian settlements of Roman military units used to do elsewhere. In the forts of Pityous and Phasis a small trade workshop type – vicus settlements used to inhabit. The area of their function covered only coastal frontier (Gamkrelidze & Todua 2006, 89). 52 The provision of logistic support for the garrisons used to arrive by means of the central system from Trapezous in the 2nd-3rd centuries and from Antioch in the 4th century (for further details, see Gamkrelidze & Todua 2006, 112‑113). 53 Gamkrelidze & Todua 2006, 111. 54 Todua 2003, 49‑67. 55 The foreign power united Kolchis. This was the most important event of those times, an event that was to occur repeatedly during the following centuries. 56 Vasilevskij 1909, 226‑227; for western literature, see Plontke-Lüning 2003, 15, no. 103; 2005, 135, no.18). 57 Acta sanctorum V, 694‑696, 7th July; for a Georgian version, see Kekelidze 1957, 621.

Bibliography Adonc, N. 1971. Armenia v epochu lyustiniana. Jerevan. Apakidze, A. 1947. Gvianantikuri chanis dzeglebi urekidan, Saqartveloc mecnierebata akademiis moambe 14, 89‑111. Aslanishvili, L. 2004. Stone missiles, in: Kachidze et al. (eds.) 2004, 152‑155. Bosworth, A.B. 1977. Arrian and the Alani, Harward Studies in Classical Philology 81, 217‑255. Bosworth, A.B. 1993. Arrian and Rome the minor works, in: ANRW II. 34.1. Braund, D. 1986. Caucasian frontier: myth, exploration and dynamics of imperialism in the defence of the Roman and Byzantine East, in: Freeman & Kennedy (eds.) 1986, 31‑49. Braund, D. 1994. Georgia in Antiquity. A History of Colchis and Transcaucasian Iberia 550 BC – AD 562. Oxford. Bryer, A. & D. Winfield 1985. The Byzantine Monuments and Topography of Pontus. Vol. 1. Washington. Chalvaši, M. 2002. Keramikuli tara Gonio-apsarosidan. Batumi. Chalvaši, M. & E. Kachidze 2004. Apsarosi ach.ts. IV-V saukuneebši, Dziebani 13‑14, 147‑150. Crow, J. A. 1986. A review of the physical remains of the frontiers of Cappadocia, in: Freeman & Kennedy (eds.) 1986, 77‑91.

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Djaparidze, V. 2002. Archäologische Arbeiten im Südbereich der ApsarosMauer, in: A. Gayer & S. Mamuladze (eds.), Georgisch-Deutsche archäologische Expedition Gonio-Apsaros. Ester Vorläufiger Bericht. Arbeiten im Jahr 2000. Tbilisi, 191‑206. Džaparidze, V. 1998. Kolkhetis (lazikis) safortifikacio nagebobebis šestsavlis akhali monacemebi da e.ts. pontos limesis sakitchi, in: Abstracts of the Caucasus Archaeological Conference 1. Tbilisi, 45‑46. Džaparidze, V. 2000. Egrisis (lazikis) adrebizantiuri qalaqebis arqeologiuri šestsavlis dziritadi sakitchebi, in: Abstracts of the conference: Cities and Urban Life in the Ancient Georgia 2. Tbilisi-Batumi, 36‑42. Ebralidze, T. 2005. Samchret-dasavelet saqartvelos zghvispireti gvianelinistur da romaul chanaši. Batumi. El’nickij, L.A. 1938. Iz istoričeskoj geografii drevnej Kolchidy, VDI 2, 307‑320. Fellmuth, N. 2003. Zusammenstellung der Keramik- und Glasfunde aus den Schnitten des Jahres 2000 nördlich der Festung, in der Nordwestecke der Festung und im Bereich des modern Friedhofs, in: Geyer (ed.) 2003, 43‑60. Freeman, P. & D. Kennedy (eds.) 1986. The Defence of the Roman and Byzantine East. Proceedings of a Colloquium Held at University of Sheffield in 1986 (BAR International Series, 297.1). Oxford. Gamkrelidze, G. & T. Todua 2006. Romis samchedro-politikuri eqspansia saqartveloči. Tbilisi. Geyer, A. (ed.) 2003. Neue Forschungen in Apsaros (2000‑2002). Tbilisi. Geyer, A. & S. Mamuladze (eds.) 2002. Gonio-Apsaros 3. Iblisi. Gogitidze, S. 2002. Samchret-dasavleti saqartvelos saistorio geografia. Batumi. Gregory, S. 1997. Roman Military Architecture on the Eastern Frontier, 2. Amsterdam. Inaishvili, N. & G. Tavamaishvili 2001. Tsikhisdziri Villa, in: Abstracts of the 2nd International Congress on Black Sea Antiquities. Ankara, 36. Kachidze, A. et al. (eds.) 2004. Gonio-Apsarus. Vol. 4. Batumi. Kachidze, E. 2005. Istoriuli tzaneti gvianantikur da adrebizantiur chana chanaši, Activities of the N. Berdzenishvili Batumi Rresearch Institute 4, 36‑45. Kakhidze, A. et al. 2002a. Arbeiten vor dem Südtor, in: Gayer & Mamuladze (eds.) 2002, 50‑70. Kakhidze, A. et al. 2002b. The Recent Finds in Apsarus, in: M. Faudot, A. Fraysse & É. Geny (eds.), Pont-Euxin et commerce: la genèse de la ‘Route de la Soie.’ Actes du IXe Symposium de Vani (Colchide) – 1999. Paris, 251‑262. Kakhidze, A. & S. Mamuladze 2004. The basic results of the studies carried out on the territory of the southern gate and baths block, in: Kachidze et al. (eds.) 2004, 4‑68. Kekelidze, K. 1957. Etiudebi dzveli qartuli literaturis istoriidan 4. Tbilisi. Kekelidze, K. 1961. Etiudebi dzveli qartuli literaturis istoriidan 7. Tbilisi.

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Khalvashi, M. 2002. Arbeiten im Zentralbereich der Festung, in: Gayer & Mamuladze (eds.) 2002, 142‑167. Kiguradze, N. et al. 1987. Klejma XV legiona iz Picundskogo gorodišča, VDI 2, 88‑92. Kolendo, J. 1977. Le Recrutement des Legions au Temps de Néron et la Création de la Legio I Italica, in: J. Fitz (ed.), Akten des XI Internationalen Limeskongresses. Budapest, 399‑408. Lekvinadze, V.A. 1961. Materialy po istrorii i architekture Apsarskoj kreposti, Vizantijskij vremennik 20, 225‑242. Lekvinadze, V.A. 1969. Pontijskij Limes, VDI 2, 75‑93. Lomouri, N. 1975. Notitia Dignatitumis zogierti cnobis garkvevisatvis, Activities of the Tbilisi State University 162, 65‑78. Lordkipanidze, G. 1991. Bichvintis naqalaqari. Tbilisi. Lordkipanidze, G. & A. Noneshvili 2002. Arbeiten im Turm 2, in: Gayer & Mamuladze (eds.) 2002, 171‑183. Lordkipanidze, O. 1989. Nasledie drevnej Gruzii. Tbilisi. Lordkipanidze, O. 2001. Georgien – Land und Raum, in: I. Gambashidze & A. Hauptman (eds.), Katalog der Ausstellung des Deutschen Bergbau-Museums Bochum in Verbindung mit dem Zentrum für Archäologische Forschungen der Georgischen Akademie der Wissenschaften Tbilissi vom 28. Oktomber 2001 bis 19. Mai 2002. Bochum, 2‑53. Lordkipanidze, O. et al. 1980. Gonios Gandzi. Tbilisi. Luttwak, E.N. 1976. The Grand Strategy of the Roman Empire. London. Mamuladze, S. et al. 2001. Die Römer in Südwestgeorgien, Georgica 24, 35‑46. Mamuladze, S. et al. 2002. Rimskie garnizony Apsara, VDI 1, 33‑39. Melikišvili, G.A. 1959. K istorii drevnej Gruzii. Tbilisi. Melikišvili, G.A. 1970. Sakartvelo akh. ts. I-III saukuneebši, in: Sakartvelos istoriis narkvevebi 1. Tbilisi, 500‑569. Migne, J. P. 1967. Patrologia Graeca 120. Paris. Miller, K. 1916. Itineraria Romana. Stuttgart. Miron, A. & W. Orthman (eds.) 1995. Unterwegs zum Goldenen Vlies. Archäologische Funde aus Georgien. Saarbrücken. Mitford, T.B. 1974. Some Inscriptions from the Cappadocian Limes, JRS 64, 160‑175. Mitford, T.B. 1977. The Euphrates frontier in Cappadocia, in: Studien zu Militärgrenzen Roms II (10. Internationalen Limeskongress 1974). Köln-Bonn, 501‑510. Mitford, T.B. 1980. Cappadocia and Armenia Minor: historical setting of the limes, in: ANRW II.7.2, 1169‑1228. Plontke-Lüning, A. et al. 2002. Arbeiten in der Nordwestecke der Festung, nördlich der Festung und im Bereich des modernen Friedhofs, in: Gayer & Mamuladze (eds.) 2002, 87‑97. Plontke-Lüning, A. 2003. Apsaros: Quellen und Geschichte, in: Geyer (ed.) 2003, 7‑16.

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Plontke-Lüning, A. & A. Geyer 2003. Archäologische und naturwissenschaftliche Arbeiten in Apsaros in den Jahren 2000 bis 2002, in: Geyer (ed.) 2003, 17‑34. Plontke-Lüning, A. 2005. Neue Forschungen in Apsaros (1.-8. Jh. n.Chr.), Metalla 12. 1/2, 133‑145. Rowell, H.T. 1937. Numerus, in: RE 17, 1327‑1330. Qauchčišvili, S. (ed.). 1941. Georgica: Scriptorum Byzantinorum Excepta ad Georgiam Pertinentia. Vol. 4.1. Tbilisi. Qauchčišvili, S. (ed.). 1955. Kartlis tschovreba 1. Tbilisi. Sadradze, V. et al. 1996. Arqeologiuri kvleva-dzieba guriachi, 1991‑1994 tslebshi, in: A. Apakidze (ed.), Guria 1. Tbilisi, 22‑40. Sadradze, V. et al. 2001. Arqeologiuri kvleva-dzieba guriachi, 1997‑1998 tslebshi, in: V. Sadradze (ed.), Guria 3. Tbilisi, 3‑31. Sadradze, V. 2003. Vašnari-sponieti-guriani. Tbilisi. Shalikadze, T. 2004. Gvianantikuri da adrešuasaukuneebis minis natsarmi samchretdasavlet saqartvelos šavizghvispiretidan. Batumi. Speidel, M. P. 1986. The Caucasus frontier: Second-century garrisons at Apsarus, Petra and Phasis, in: Studien zu den Militärgrenzen Roms III (13. Internationaler Limeskongress, Aalen 1983). Stutgart, 657‑660. Todua, T. & B. Murvanidze 1997. Romauli legionis tvifriani aguri sof. Moednidan, in: V. Sadradze (ed.), Guria 2. Tbilisi, 108‑114. Todua, T. 2003. Romauli samqharo da saqartvelos šavizghvispireti. Tbilisi. Varshalomidze, I. 2004. Coins discovered at the southern gate, in: Kachidze et al. (eds.) 2004, 141‑151. Vasilevskij, V.G. 1909. Choždenie apostola Andreja v stranu mirmidonjan, in: V.G. Vasilevskij, Trudy 2.1. St Peterburg, 213‑295. Vickers, M. & A. Kakhidze 2004. Pichvnari 1: Results of Excavations Conducted by the Joint British-Georgian Expedition 1998‑2002. Oxford-Batumi. Zakaraja, P.P. & V.A. Lekvinadze, 1966. Archeologičeskie raskopki v Šuchuti, Matsne 1, 120‑135. Zuckerman, C. 1991. The early Byzantine strongholds in eastern Pontus, Travaux et mémoires 11, 527‑553. Abbreviations ANRW

Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt.

Reciprocal Strategies: Imperialism, Barbarism and Trade in Archaic and Classical Olbia Robin Osborne

How did the meetings of cultures in the Black Sea region take place concretely in time and space?1 How were cultures and collective and individual identities shaped, maintained and/or transformed as a result of these meetings? In this paper I raise these questions with reference to Classical Olbia. Olbia has the advantage that we both have significant data from ancient observers, from outsiders who told stories about Olbia which precisely turned on just what sort of a Greek city it was, and from those at Olbia themselves, who speak to us not only through their material culture but also, and this is my focus here, through what, privately and publicly, they inscribed on non-perishable material. Given the privileged position which this comparative wealth of material puts us in, this case study of Olbia is also a study in method. How, faced with an array of evidence some of which looks, on the face of it, quite unlike the material from other Greek cities, and some of which looks, on the face of it, indistinguishable from that from other Greek cities, do we decide what can and cannot be attributed to the “meeting of cultures” in the Black Sea area? I argue in the course of this paper for the importance of close attention to details and for a careful contextualising that considers not just what a particular text says but what it does. Answering questions about changing cultural identities is extremely problematic, and the literary evidence on Olbia plunges us immediately into the problems. Herodotos 4.18, in his only mention of “Olbiopolitai” has the Greek inhabitants of the area by the sea after you cross the Borysthenes identify the non-Greek inhabitants as “Borysthenites” and themselves as Olbiopolitai. At 4.78 he then describes how the Scythian king Skyles, whose mother was Greek and who had been taught Greek letters, led an army against the “city of the Borysthenites”, noting that the Borysthenites identified themselves as Milesians. Skyles, Herodotos goes on, used to leave his army in the suburb of the town, enter the town without it, put on Greek clothes, and ἠγóραζε on his own, without bodyguards, and with the gates guarded to prevent entry by Scythians. As well as wearing Greek clothes he engaged in rituals to the gods “according to the nomoi of the Greeks”. After a month of this he put his Scythian clothes on again and left. But he did all this often and married a

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woman in Borysthenes. Herodotos remarks that this was bound to turn out badly, and the crunch came when Skyles desired to be initiated into Bacchic rites, and persisted even when “the god” destroyed Skyles’ house in the town with a thunderbolt. Scythians, Herodotos says, disapprove of the worship of a god that drives men mad, and when one of the Borysthenites informs on Skyles they check the information by entering the city and spying, and then depose Skyles. What are we to make of this famous story? This is very explicitly a story about the meeting of cultures at Olbia and the concrete consequences. But whose story is it? Does it tell us something about the Scythians and their view of the people of Olbia? Herodotos certainly tells the story of Skyles, and that of Anacharsis, with which he precedes it, to reveal something about Scythian hostility to customs that are not their own. This is clear both from the first sentence of 4.76 and from the last sentence of 4.80. But his source for the stories is not clear. In the case of Anacharsis, (4.76‑7), shot dead by the Scythian king for conducting Greek religious rituals in Hylaia, Herodotos goes as far as to say that the Scythians deny knowledge of him. If we take this statement seriously we cannot interpret these stories as straightforwardly cautionary tales told by Scythians to warn against adopting foreign (religious) practices. Herodotos quotes, on Anacharsis’ genealogy, Tymnes, the epitropos of Ariapeithes, the Scythian king who is the father of Skyles. Tymnes ought to be a Karian name (the other Tymnes in Herodotos is the father of Histiaios), and scholars have seen in him a go-between between the Scythian and non-Scythian worlds, proposing that Herodotos met him at Olbia. Does the story of Skyles then tell us something about the people of Olbia and the Olbian view of the Scythians? It is notable that both the Anacharsis and the Skyles stories are set in Olbia or Hylaia, the region around Olbia. These are not stories about the problem of importing Greek cult practices into the heart of Scythia; they are stories about the problem of Scythians taking the initiative in Greek cult practice: Anacharsis sets up the rituals to the Mother of the Gods; Skyles decides to be initiated. If the Scythians do not tell the story of Anacharsis, is it the Olbians who do so? Are these stories by which the Olbians explain Scythian wariness of Olbian religious practices? Although Anacharsis is supposed to have picked up the cult of Kybele from Kyzikos, there is evidence for her cult being strong already in Archaic Olbia.2 Are these stories by which the Olbians “other” the Scythians, or are these stories which reproduce the way that the Scythians “other” the Olbians? Or do these stories primarily, or only, tell us about Herodotos? What the story may tell us about Herodotos has been the focus of such scholars as T.E. Harrison, interested in what the incident tells us about Herodotos and religion – Herodotos seems both to assume here that gods are the same world over, just worshipped differently, and to assume that Scythians do not have gods that drive men mad, but that Greeks do.3 He also seems to take it that it is the same god into whose cult Skyles wants to be initiated who destroys

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Skyles' house with a thunderbolt. What the story tells us about Herodotos is also a concern of F. Hartog, who stresses the structural parallelism between the Skyles and Anacharsis stories and also the way in which the Scythian attitude towards the cult activity of Anacharsis and Skyles mirrors more widespread Greek ambivalence towards ecstatic cult practices for Dionysos and for the Great Mother.4 On this view Herodotos here significantly complicates his view of the “other” Scythians, in that they turn out to be not so very unlike the Greeks – or alternatively Herodotos here uses the Scythians to draw attention to the barbarity of hostile attitudes to ecstatic cults. What Herodotos’ story of Skyles nicely exemplifies are the problems inherent in using literary texts generated by outsiders to look at cultural interaction. The author of the literary text, and his source(s), are themselves part of any cultural interaction they describe between other parties. Establishing firm foundations for understanding what is happening on the ground in any particular place depends on being able to control more variables than can be grasped for such literary texts. I turn therefore to epigraphic texts.

Religious texts and the role of Dionysos in Olbia I start with religious material. Calendrical material from Olbia demonstrates that this settlement which traced its origin to Miletos employed the Milesian calendar.5 Most of the standard dedicatory formulae in material from Archaic and Classical Olbia can be paralleled generally in the Greek world and indeed in the Ionian world. The gods and heroes who receive those dedications include such widely worshipped figures as Apollon Delphinios as well as other Olympians (Zeus, Athena, Demeter, Aphrodite, Hermes) who appear without epithet. The cult of Apollon Iatros is a little more unusual, and among heroes the cult of Achilleus on Leuke has attracted particular attention, though the epigraphic material has nothing particularly unusual about it. The Olbian material offers something not obviously immediately paralleled in other parts of the Greek world in two areas: first in relation to the cult of Dionysos and second in producing inscribed bone plaques. A bronze mirror of c. 500 BC carries, inscribed around its border an inscription “Demonassa (daughter) of Lenaios, euai, and Lenaios (son of) Demokles, eiai”.6 The Bacchic cry “euai” and the name Lenaios are what are most interesting here. That the Bacchic cry, whether as “euai” or “euoi”, first appears in literature in Athenian tragedy and comedy is hardly surprising or to be afforded great significance. Rather more interesting is the use of the name Lenaios. Lenaios appears, on the current evidence of the Lexicon of Greek Personal Names, outside the Black Sea only in the Hellenistic period. From the 2nd century BC on it becomes quite popular in Athens with some attestation in the Aegean islands (but not elsewhere). Within the Black Sea it appears in the Kimmerian Bosporos in the 4th century and at Pantikapaion in the 4th to 3rd century, but at Olbia itself there are three attestations in the 5th as well

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as two more in the 3rd/2nd century BC.7 The Lenaios of Dubois no. 2 is the son of Dionysodoros, which further encourages association of the name with Dionysos rather than with, e.g. Apollon (though we will see below how close Dionysos and Apollon seem to be at Olbia). That the name and the Bacchic cry should occur together might suggest that the name is not just vaguely Dionysiac but associated in particular with the more ecstatic of Dionysiac rites. Given the evidence I now turn to discuss, I draw attention in particular to the presence of “Lenaiai” in Herakleitos frg. 14a (Diels-Kranz): peoples of the night – magoi, bakkhoi, lenaiai, initiates into the mysteries. Of similar date to the mirror, or a little later, are a number of bone plaques, which explicitly mention Dionysos.8 These read “Life, Death, Life; Truth; Dio(nysos), Orphics”, “Peace, War; Truth, Lie; Dion(ysos); A”, and “Dion(ysos); Truth; Body, soul; A”. Debate has chiefly raged over whether to read “Orphics” or “to orphic Dionysos”, but either way we have an early explicit identification of ecstatic Dionysiac cult as having something to do with Orpheus or beliefs derived from Orpheus. My own concern here, however, is with what sort of context we should understand this plaque in. As small plaques, on a durable material, with inscriptions which mean something only in the context of a particular belief system, we might take these objects to have much in common with the Dionysiac gold leaves found in Magna Graecia, Crete, Thessaly and a few other places.9 But those gold leaves have been found in tombs, make reference to a hieros logos, allude to rituals of initiation, and offer what appear to be passwords and directions to the soul in the afterlife. The Olbian bone plaques were not found in tombs, and although the curt phrases might be passwords they are not obviously so understood and make no allusion to past initiation. The concern of these plaques with truth and the lie and with war and peace has no parallels in the gold tablets. Only the recurrence of “Life” after, as well as before, “Death” connects these Olbian inscriptions with beliefs about life after death. What the plaques are much more obviously linked to are tables of opposites – life and death, truth and the lie, body and soul. As such, the context for which we reach is that of pre-Socratic philosophy, the Pythagorean table of opposites and Herakleitos’ interest in contrasting life and death. Except for the term “orphics”, there does not seem anything here that would not be at home in Pythagoras’ Samos or Herakleitos’ Ephesos. The date and explicitly cultic links provided by the name Dionysos and the find-spot of the plaques suggest that we should situate Pythagoras and Herakleitos much more explicitly in the context of cult practice and belief than is sometimes done, and that Herakleitos’ relation to Dionysiac cult is more complicated than his apparent hostility to Dionysiac devotees initially suggests. Herodotos 2.81 talks of “rites known as Orphic and Bacchic, but which in fact are Egyptian and Pythagorean”, but that implication that Pythagoras came first and cult followed seems hard to support. It is only by asserting a common cult basis to Herakleitos and Pythagoras and to the Olbian worshippers of Dionysos,

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rather than by seeing the Olbian worshippers as practising something peculiarly Olbian, that we can make sense of these plaques.10 Exactly the same background seems presupposed by two objects associated with the cult of Apollon – one further Archaic bone plaque, this time from Berezan’, and one rather later inscription on a vase fragment.11 The bone plaque bears two inscriptions on one side, one one way up and the other the opposite way up, and one inscription on the reverse side. The shorter inscription dedicates the plaque to Milesian Apollon of Didyma. The longer associates numbers (7, 70, 700) with animals etc. (7, weak wolf; 70, terrible lion, etc.). The inscription on the reverse seems to do both with a number and an apparent mention of Didyma. The vase inscription (alleged by Dubois to date from c. 300 BC, although the vase itself is thought to date to the 5th century BC), has two lines of inscription forming a circular border. The outer inscription names “Boreic thiasotai”, the inner reads “Life, life; Apollon, Apollon; Sun, sun; World, world; Light light”. The importance lies in the clear association with Apollon and with Apollon explicitly linked to Miletos. Published since West wrote in 1982, the bone plaque comes close to confirming exactly the point which he made then. Dionysos and Apollon were evidently as close to each other at Olbia as they were elsewhere in the Classical world.12 The degree and consequences of cultural encounter between Greek incomers and existing local population suggested by the religious material are very limited. The cult practices of the Greeks at Olbia seem not to have been significantly divergent from the practices of Greeks in the Aegean, and the beliefs underlying those practices can all be paralleled elsewhere. Where, if at all, they differ is in being explicitly articulated in material form. The cultural consequences of cultural encounter come precisely in material form. The knowledge of difference leads to its more explicit articulation, ideas under pressure get themselves down in writing. In the case of religious practices, there is no significant evidence of the introduction into Archaic and Classical Olbia of innovations significantly different from the practices of the Ionian cities from which most Archaic Olbians probably originated. When we turn to political actions, we see more clearly how Olbians reacted to newly minted Classical practices.

Decrees: ateleia and proxeny A number of decrees survive from Olbia which grant privileges to non-Olbians. From the second quarter of the 5th century there is a fragment of a decree granting ateleia to Iatrokles son of Hekataios of Sinope and his descendants, and from the third quarter the opening of a grant of citizenship, ateleia and ges enktesis to two Sinopeans, one of them the one-time tyrant of Sinope, Timesileos.13 From the 4th century there are a series of proxeny decrees for men of a variety of origins, some of which also offer ateleia, citizenship, and proedria. Two formal features of these decrees are noteworthy. The first is the

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concern, which is found already in the 5th century, to include descendants in the grant; in the 4th century this manifests itself in the inclusion not simply of descendants but of brothers and slaves. The second feature is the use of the abbreviated formula “The Olbiopolitai gave proxeny…” in 4th-century proxeny decrees.14 The use of abbreviated formulae in honorific inscriptions has been remarked upon by Rhodes.15 The inclusion of relatives and slaves in proxeny decrees, and similar, has been noted by A. Wilhelm and further discussed by C. Marek.16 From the point of view of the questions which are of interest here, the first important observation is that neither of these feature can be traced to Miletos or other cities of Ionia (although Ephesos does have a noted tendency to tag on “and to his descendants” to grants in its Classical decrees17). Nor, to anticipate the discussion to follow, does Athens provide a parallel for either practice (proxeny grants at Athens are sometimes extended beyond the recipient, but not with the standard formulae on display at Olbia). The sovereign body most inclined to abbreviate proxeny decrees in the way they are abbreviated at Olbia is Delphi, but the same formula is found in various cities of Thessaly, including Pherai and Thetonion.18 A parallel formula appears in the famous early decree of Kyzikos, granting ateleia to Manes son of Medikes and the sons of Aisepos, and perhaps in a later Kyzikene decree of uncertain date; Ilion in the 4th century also uses a slight variation.19 I note these examples because the closest parallels for the inclusion of relatives and slaves in proxeny decrees come from Thessaly (Pherai from the 5th century on, and 5th century Thetonion; cf. also Lamia and Phalanna) and from a late 5th or early 4th century decree from Delos, which also uses an abbreviated formula, though not quite the same formula.20 Although we are not, I think, in a position to provide these Olbian proxeny decrees with a full pedigree, the combined parallel for the form and the content raises interesting issues. Wilhelm thought that the formula involving extending grants of ateleia to slaves was coined for the benefit of large-scale merchants operating with a slave workforce.21 Marek objected to this that it hardly explained the use of the formula at Pherae, which was not a place likely to have been at the centre of large-scale trade, and emphasised that in Thessaly, though not in Olbia, all privileges, and not ateleia alone were extended to the relatives and slaves.22 But the point is rather that the concrete privileges offered by the proxeny decree can be enjoyed by the individual not simply in his personal capacity but in any capacity. The Olbian examples are particularly clear on this, when they extend the privileges to sons and brothers who share the patrimony (ἢ παῖδες, ἢ ἀδελφοὶ οἷς κοινὰ τὰ πατρῶια, ἢ θεράποντες). But the Olbian examples do, precisely, limit the extension to brothers and slaves, though not to descendants, to the matter of ateleia, and that, in itself, suggests that at Olbia it is the case of large-scale merchants that is central. It is obviously perfectly possible that the Olbians acquired the habit of abbreviating proxeny decrees from one place, and the practice of extending

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privileges to slaves from another. But it is economical to think that they drew both practices from the same fount. If so, Thessaly, where both practices are attested already in the 5th century, does look the most promising source. But in that case, did the Olbians directly adapt the Thessalian precedent, or did they acquire the practice re-minted by some intermediary elsewhere? No intermediary currently suggests itself, and we must contemplate the possibility that, by whatever means, the Olbians learnt about Thessalian practice, realised its potential attractions, and adapted it to their own needs.23

Coin issues If the context in which Olbians became aware of Thessalian practice with regard to proxenies remains obscure to us, the context in which the Olbians became aware of the possibilities of imposing uniformity of standard in coinage is absolutely clear. Although scholars attempted all sorts of manoeuvres in order to avoid believing it, there can be no doubt that the fragment of a copy of the Athenian Standards Decree once in Odessa Museum was found at Olbia and was inscribed there.24 The similarity in epigraphic style to the decree for Timesileos is overwhelming.25 Now that scholars have generally accepted that the Athenian Standards Decree was moved in the 420s BC rather than the 440s, the problems of believing that a copy was put up in Olbia in any case recede. Despite the silence of Thucydides, the expedition of Perikles to the Black Sea, recorded by Plutarchos, turns out to have been far from insignificant.26 Whether or not they ever actually paid tribute, at least some Black Sea cities were treated subsequently by the Athenians as part of the Athenian empire and were assessed in the 425 tribute reassessment.27 What other Athenian documentation Olbia may have become familiar with as a result of incorporation within the Athenian empire we cannot be certain, but the Standards Decree is certain beyond all doubt. Greek cities had a variety of concerns with coinage which they regulated by law. The prime concern was with the purity of coinage, and this manifested itself in two sorts of laws, laws about forgery and laws about the production of electrum, where the proportions of gold and silver were not immediately discernible, but were important. Mytilene and Phokaia entered a monetary pact over the production of electrum coinage in the early 4th century.28 Athens moved Nikophon’s law over forged coinage in 375/4 BC.29 But when Olbia passed a law relating to coinage in the second, or, on Vinogradov’s dating, the third, quarter of the 4th century, it was concerned with neither of these issues.30 Rather it was concerned to allow entry to Borysthenes only to those who agreed that if they wished to buy or sell gold and silver coin they would change it at a specific location in the city, “the stone in the ekklesiasterion”, for the silver and bronze coinage of the city of Olbia. Olbia hereby effectively establishes a monopoly for its own coinage within the city. Is there a connection between the Athenian Standards Decree put up at

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Olbia in the 420s BC and the Olbian law moved half a century or more later? That the beginning of the Athenian Standards Decree has not survived, and that we learn its content primarily from the changes that are made to the Bouleutic Oath (part of which is what survives on the Olbia fragment of the decree), does not help us to answer this question. In terms of the language employed, the Olbian decree does not echo the 5th-century Athenian decree. Where the Athenian decree talks of not “using or loaning foreign coinage” (clause 8), the Olbian decree talks of “buying and selling stamped gold and stamped silver”. The contrasting terms “foreign” and “native” that feature in the Athenian decree do not feature in the Olbian decree. The use of “import” and “export” of coinage in the Olbian decree has no parallel in the Athenian decree. If we ask, however, about the purpose of each decree, then a striking similarity emerges. The debate about the purpose of the Athenian Standards Decree has been long and involved, complicated by the inclusion of coinage among the “standards” which the decree insists must be Athenian. As soon as the focus is turned instead to “weights and measures” it becomes more immediately obvious that the direct economic gain for Athenians from the Standards Decree was minimal. While the Athenians perhaps made a small profit from re-minting fees, there was no parallel gain for them in the case of weights and measures. And whatever the economic advantages of a single currency were, and in a real-value coinage they were perhaps not enormous, the economic advantages of uniform weights and measures are still less tangible. So too, when we look at the Olbian decree, fiscal advantage to the state is actually ruled out when the city denies itself the possibility of exacting taxes on the buying and selling of coined gold and silver (lines 29‑31). These negatives are of interest only for the positives which they imply. If the advantages of insisting on a single currency, whether in an empire or in a single city, are not economic, then the focus must be on the political gain. It is true that the political gain from forcing others to use Attic rather than Aiginetan medimnoi, or Attic rather than Doric feet, would seem to be as intangible as the economic gain. The work of T. Martin on coinage and sovereignty has shown that there was no necessary connection between the two.31 But it is nevertheless hard to think that being obliged to use coins which declare themselves to belong to another city, that is to a particular other city, did not have political force. Likewise, being forced to change one’s coinage on entering another city could not but symbolise, and rather powerfully, that one had entered a place under the political control of others – particularly when that was not the normal experience: as hoard evidence shows, in most cities a mix of coinage was in circulation and use. The insistence that the exchange of coinage happens in the ekklesiasterion makes the politics involved absolutely explicit – more so indeed than in the Athenian decree with its emphasis on the place of minting (although allied cities do also have to display the decree in their agorai).

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Conclusion I suggest that we should see exactly the same thing going on with this decree establishing a monopoly on coinage as is going on with the Olbian proxeny decrees. That is, the Olbians observe practice in another Greek city, see its relevance to their own particular interests and concerns, and adapt it for their own use. In the case of coinage, the Olbian decree turns the Athenian decree inside out, regulating not what other cities do in their own city space but what those who come from other cities can do in the Olbian city space. The interest of these Olbian adaptations of practices initially forged by other cities lies in part in the variety of Greek cities from which they borrow. However traditional the ties which led to their Apolline and Dionysiac cult practices, the links that brought their particular political practices can be explained neither by tradition nor, in the case of the Thessalian link, by external relations forced upon them by the other party – we must allow for active bricolage. But the interest lies still more in what the adaptations tell us about Olbia’s particular concerns. Negatively, what the proxeny decrees and the coinage monopoly decree show is no special concern with the non-Greeks on their borders. There is no sign here of adaptation directed at existence in a world which is culturally resistant to Greek practice. There is no transformation of Olbian culture in the face of the culture of its neighbours on display here beyond perhaps an unusual enthusiasm for wearing their religious enthusiasms in their names. We can see “barbarism” neither through hyper-resistance nor through compromise or hybridisation. Positively, what both the proxeny decrees and the coinage law show is a city in a peculiar economic position. We see Olbian culture meeting the culture of other Greek cities and reacting to it, by imitation and by transformation, in ways that are shaped by the particular economic position of the city. Olbian concern with extending privileged tax-exemption to “brothers who have the same patrimony” and to slaves takes up practice elsewhere which treats whole households as recipients of privileges, and adapts it to a situation where what is at issue is not household relocation but the encouragement of a medium-term economic relationship. The Olbian coinage law takes up from the Athenians the idea of requiring use of a single coinage, but, in a situation where Olbia has no power to control coin use outside its own city, it applies this idea to coin use within Olbia itself. The Athenian precedent had depended upon Athenian political (and military) power; the Olbian imitation requires no political power, but it does require confidence that this assertion of Olbian control over the means of exchange can be sustained by the absence of other suitable alternative means of engaging in the same range of exchanges. The dominance of Olbian coinage in Black Sea hoards suggests that the Olbians got their calculation right.32 In a volume on the meeting of cultures, this paper might be seen to have little to offer. The epigraphic record shows, on my reading, very little evidence

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for Greek and non-Greek cultural interference at Olbia. But the examination of the epigraphy does, I would claim, yield one very significant finding. The peculiar provisions of the proxeny decrees and the unique imposition of a single currency within the city stand in a complementary relationship. The proxeny decrees create peculiarly favourable conditions for those who showed an inclination to establish economic relationships with Olbia over the medium to long term. They constitute, indeed, evidence for the city interesting itself in regularising relationships with those who would employ relatives and slaves as agents, and so going some way to deal with at least some of the sorts of difficulties which might arise for such people. And we do not need to imagine what those difficulties were since they are on display from the area of Olbia itself in the 6th-century Berezan’ lead letter or Artikon’s 4th-century letter.33 The coinage decree takes advantage of the sorts of economic attractions which drew people to form those medium-term relations. As a “gateway” community Olbia both needed to attract, and could afford to assert itself over, Greeks from other cities who came to establish economic contacts and effect economic exchanges. Both proxeny decrees and coinage decree show a city not merely willing to take political advantage of its economic position, but taking action to make the politics and the economics work in a mutually beneficial relationship. It is thus not a trivial misjudgement but a fundamental error when C.M. Reed recently wrote that “Certain men honored in Olbian proxeny decrees of the 4th-century constitute a second group of implausible candidates” [for the status of emporoi or naukleroi].34 His argument was that ateleia is so common a privilege in proxeny decrees that its presence does not show that the recipients had economic interests which would be served by their being given the privilege of tax exemption. Not only does the particular way in which the ateleia grant is extended in the Olbian decrees to brothers who share the same patrimony itself refute that argument, but the Olbian use of proxeny decrees and the Olbian coinage decree show a clear case of the interaction of politics and economics denied by Reed, who reasserts very much the Hasebroekian view of the separation of trade and politics. Just as with the religious evidence from Olbia what is peculiar is not the ways of thought so much as the survival of evidence, so in this area too, it is not that the Olbians are being unlike a Greek city in their action here, merely that their particular situation enables and encourages them to carry through in practice ideas which elsewhere in the Greek world do not show up so clearly in our evidence. David Braund concluded his paper at the conference with the observation that communication between Greek and non-Greek in the Black Sea depended not so much on ethnicity but on status, wealth, and power. The proxeny decrees show one way in which status, power, and wealth were indeed made to talk. But the Olbian example also nicely illustrates the way in which the sorts of wealth and power available to or in a community themselves contributed to a city’s distinctive identity. Olbia drew on techniques of power that were

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characteristic of a Greek polis – proxeny grants, regulation of life by formal laws – but the particular content of those techniques of power she adapted to her unique economic position. In as far as the meeting of culture had a distinctive impact at Olbia, it was because of the economic advantages that access to another culture, including another agriculture, gave. Braund also suggested that it is unlikely that Greeks and non-Greeks in the Black Sea had problems communicating with one another. In most spheres I think he is correct, but the sphere of religion does seem to me to be different. Language is fundamental to the representation that is religion. What the particular Olbian evidence suggests is that without Greek language Greek religious practices remained extremely foreign for non-Greeks, and that Greeks responded to this difficulty in communication in exactly the way in which members of different language communities frequently respond when they experience difficulties communicating: they spoke louder, both writing down on non-perishable materials what normally did not get written down, and carrying their religious affiliations in their names. Was Olbia special? No Greek would have found it at all a strikingly foreign place. Nothing that happened there was out of the range of what happened in other Greek cities. But the particular selection of Greek cultural practices found there, and the brashness with which they are publicised, can indeed be linked to Olbia’s peculiar geographical, economic and cultural position. Notes 1 I am very grateful to Pia Guldager Bilde and the Danish Research Foundation’s Centre for Black Sea Studies for their kind invitation to the conference from which this volume derives and for their kind hospitality. I am indebted to Pia Guldager Bilde for generous post-conference discussion. 2 Vinogradov & Kryžickij 1995, 115; cf. pp. 116‑117 for Dionysos. 3 Harrison 2000, 213, 218. 4 Hartog 1980, 82‑102, 126‑127. 5 Dubois 1996, nos. 99‑100. 6 Dubois 1996, no. 92 (500 BC). Δημώνασσα Ληναίο εὐαὶ καὶ Λήναιος Δημόκλο εἰαί 7 For the other two fifth century examples, see Dubois no. 2 and SEG XXX,958 (on a vase). 8 Dubois 1996. nos. 94a: βίος θάνατος βίος | ἀλήθεια | Διό(νυσος) Ὀρφικοί, 94b εἰρήνη πόλεμος | ἀλήθεια ψεῦδος | Διό(νυσος) | A, and 94c Διό(νυσος) | ἀλήθεια | σῶμα ψυχή | A. 9 For the “orphic” gold leaves, see Riedweg 1998; Cole 2003. Pia Guldager Bilde’s paper in this volume explores further the possible links between these tablets and the Olbian material. 10 I essentially reiterate here the position argued by West 1982. 11 Dubois 1996, nos. 93 and 95.

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12 Compare Detienne 1998, 202: “D’un bout à l’autre du monde grec, Apollon et Dionysos se plaisent à échanger épithètes et instruments, rôles et masques, qualités et fonctions sans se confondre pour autant”. 13 Dubois 1996, nos. 1 and 5. 14 It will be convenient to quote at this point in illustration of these features an inscription, Dubois 1996, no. 21, from 340‑330 BC which will be discussed further later in this paper: ἀγαθεῖ τύχει. Ὀλβιοπολῖται ἔδωκαν Ξανθίππωι Ἀριστοφῶντος Ἐρχιεῖ, 5 Φιλοπόλιδι Φιλοπόλιδος Δειραδιώτει Ἀθηναίοις αὐτοῖς καὶ τοῖς ἐγγόνοις προξενίαν, πολιτείαν, ἀτέλειαν πάντων 10 χρημάτων ὧν ἂν αὐτοὶ εἰσάγωσιν ἢ ἐξάγωσιν, ἢ παῖδες, ἢ ἀδελφοὶ οἷς κοινὰ τὰ πατρῶια, ἢ θεράποντες, καὶ 15 εἴσπλουν καὶ ἔκπλουν καὶ ἐν εἰρήνηι καὶ ἐμ πολέμωι ἀσυλεὶ καὶ ἀ̣σπονδεί With good fortune. The citizens of Olbia granted to Xanthippos son of Aristophon of Erchia and Philopolis son of Philopolis of Deiradiotai, Athenians, themselves and their descendants, proxeny, citizenship, freedom from taxation on all the chremata whichsoever they import or export themselves or their sons or brothers with whom they share their paternal possessions, or slaves, and right to sail in and sail out in peace and in war without reprisals and without a truce. 15 Rhodes with Lewis 1997, 5‑6, with 207 for Olbia. 16 Wilhelm 1913; Marek 1984. 17 Rhodes with Lewis 1997, 364. 18 Rhodes with Lewis 1997, 126‑127 for Delphi, 176‑177 for Pherae and Thetonion; cf. Lamia, 172‑173, and Phalanna, 175. 19 SIG3, 4 for Kyzikos; JHS 24, 1904, 3; Rhodes with Lewis 1997, 410 for Ilion. 20 For examples see, from Thetonion (5th century), IG IX.2, 257; SIG3, 55; Buck 35: Θετόνιοι ἔδοκαν Σοταίροι τοῖ Κ-|ορινθίοι καὐτοῖ καὶ γένει καὶ F-|οικιάταις καὶ χρέμασιν ἀσυλία-|ν κἀτέλειαν κεὐFεργέταν ἐ-|ποίεσαν κἐν ταγᾶ κἐν ἀταγ|ίαι. αἴ τις ταῦτα παρβαίνοι, τὸ-|ν ταγὸν τὸν ἐπεστάκοντα ἐ-|ξξανακάδεν. τὰ χρυσία καὶ τὰ | ἀργύρια τἐς Βελφαίο ἀπολ-|όμενα ἔσοσε. Ὀρέσταο Φερεκράτ|ες hυλορέοντος Φιλονίκο hυῖος; from Pherai (450‑425 BC) SEG XXIII, 415 Φεραῖοι [ἐ]δό[κ]αι-|εν προξενίαν | κἀσυλίαν | Ἐπικρατίδα[ι] | αὐτ]οὶ καὶ παί-|[δ]εσσι | Προελnίο[ις] and SEG XXIII, 422 (4th century) Θεός | ----ωι Θηβαίωι, Ἀχαίωι ίππο… | ----- Φεραῖοι [ἐδώκαιεν προξ[εν-|ίαν καὶ] ἀτέλειαν καὶ ἀσυλί[αν] | [καὶ ἐπιν]ομίαν καί πολέμοιο [καί] | [ἱράνης κ]αί αὐτο[ῖς κα]ὶ οἰκιά[ταις] | ----- ασαν ------- and from Delos (c.400) IDelos 71 ἔδοξεν τῆι βολῆι | καὶ Δηλ[ί]οισιν Ἀρ-|ιστοφ[ίλω]ι καὶ το-|ῖς ἀδλ[φε]οῖς ἀτε-|λείην [ἐν]αι καὶ ἐκ-|γόνοι[ς] το[ῖ]ς τούτ-|ων καὶ [οἰκέ]τηισι.

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21 Wilhelm 1913, 31‑45. 22 Marek 1984, 282. 23 Pairisades at Pantikapaion also extends ateleia to slaves, but in a formula which might be held also to extend to them the proxeny IOSPE II.1. 24 Dubois 1996, no. 6. 25 Dubois 1996, no. 5. 26 On this, see Braund 2005. 27 Meiggs and Lewis 1969, no. 69 with Thukydides 4.75.1‑2 and Hornblower 1996 ad loc. 28 Tod 1948, no. 112. 29 Rhodes & Osborne 2003, no. 25. 30 Dubois 1996, no. 15. 31 Martin 1985. 32 This was pointed out to me by Josiah Ober, who comments on it in a forthcoming book. 33 Dubois 1996, nos. 23 and 25. 34 Reed 2003, 95.

Bibliography Braund, D.C. 2005. Pericles, Cleon and the Pontus: the Black Sea in Athens c. 440‑421, in: D.C. Braund (ed.), Scythians and Greeks: Cultural interatctions in Scythia, Athens and the early Roman Empire (sixth century BC – first century AD. Exeter, 80‑99. Cole, S.G. 2003. Landscapes of Dionysos and Elysian Fields, in: M.B. Cosmopoulos (ed.), Greek Mysteries: the Archaeology and Ritual of Ancient Greek Secret Cults. London, 193‑217. Detienne, M. 1998. Apollon le couteau à la main. Une approche expérimentale du polythéisme grec. Paris. Dubois, L. 1996. Inscriptions Grecques Dialectales d’Olbia du Pont. Geneva. Harrison, T.E. 2000. Divinity and History: the Religion of Herodotus. Oxford. Hartog, F. 1980. Le miroir d’Hérodote: essai sur la représentation de l’autre. Paris. Hornblower, S. 1996. A Commentary on Thucydides 2. Books IV – V.24. Oxford. Marek C. 1984. Die Proxenie. Frankfurt. Martin, T.R. 1985. Sovereignty and Coinage in Classical Greece. Princeton. Meiggs, R. & D.M. Lewis (eds.) 1969. Greek Historical Inscriptions to the end of the Peloponnesian War. Oxford. Reed, C.M. 2003. Maritime Traders in the Ancient Greek World. Cambridge. Rhodes, P.J. with D.M. Lewis 1997. Decrees of the Greek States. Oxford. Rhodes, P.J. & R.G. Osborne (eds.) 2003. Greek Historical Inscriptions 404‑323 B.C. Oxford. Riedweg, C. 1998. Initiation  – Tod  – Unterwelt: Beobachtungen zur Kommunikationssituation und narrativen Technik der orphisch-bakchischen Goldblättchen, in: F. Graf (ed.), Ansichten griechischer Rituale: GeburtstagsSymposium für Walter Burkert. Stuttgart, 359‑398.

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Tod, M.N. 1948. Greek Historical Inscriptions. Vol. 2. From 403 to 323 B.C. Oxford. Vinogradov, J.G. & S.D. Kryžickij 1995. Olbia: eine altgriechische Stadt im nordwestlichen Schwarzmeerraum (Mnemosyne Suppl., 149). Leiden. West, M.L. 1982. The Orphics of Olbia, ZPE 45, 17‑29. Wilhelm, A. 1913. Neue Beiträge zur griechischen Inschriftenkunde 3. Vienna. Abbreviations IDelos IG IOSPE SEG

Inscriptions de Délos. Paris. Inscriptiones Graecae. Berlin. Latyshev, V. 1885‑1901. Inscriptiones antiquae orae septentrionalis Pontis Euxini Graecae et Latinae. Leningrad. Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum. Leiden.

Scythian Laughter: Conversations in the Northern Black Sea Region in the 5th Century BC David Braund

In recent years there have been significant advances in the study of colonial experiences, from elusive colonial beginnings to subsequent relationships between colonies and local peoples, while colonists themselves sought to create and (re)invent their own origins. Approaches to the material record have become more sophisticated, while literary traditions are understood to shed more light on later colonial self-images than upon “what really happened” in Archaic times. Post-colonialism has played a large part in these methodological developments, though its contribution is seldom directly acknowledged. Perhaps the most important part of that contribution is a focus on the attitudes of the colonized, where once it was almost invariably the colonists’ perspective of the colonists that dominated modern scholarly approaches.1 It may now be claimed, without undue optimism, that the study of Greek settlement in the Black Sea region (and elsewhere) has advanced beyond familiar questions about the date and purpose of civic foundations. As for the quest for foundation-dates, it is now understood that the creation of new communities was an extended process, within which any communal ritual of foundation was not a starting-point but a milestone on a long road of contact, interaction and settlement. Processes are much harder to date than events, since they entail a whole history of their own. However, we may reasonably suppose that any date which may be indicated by archaeological study of a colony is significantly later than the earliest contacts between the Greek world and a local region or its inhabitants. Accordingly, one can only view with scepticism attempts to argue, for example, that Greek authors could not write about Borysthenes (whether river, nymph or city) years before – in principle, centuries before – we have firm archaeological evidence of a Greek colony in the northwest Black Sea.2 Contact brings knowledge, but it does not require settlement, even if settlement may subsequently develop. Meanwhile, intensive discussions of the polis serve to highlight the fluidity of Greek terminology on settlements, so that we need not expect to draw strong conclusions about the purpose of a colonial settlement from occasional descriptions of it as an apoikia, polis, emporion or something else or some admixture thereof. We may be sure that settlements sought to derive maximum benefit from all the

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resources of their environs, while it is also to be expected that different settlements had different economic (and socio-political) tendencies and histories. The purpose of the present discussion is not to recover chronology or to make inferences about Greek colonial intentions. Rather, I shall seek to gauge the atmosphere of cultural contact in the colonial context of the northern Black Sea region. In particular, encouraged by post-colonialism, I hope to offer a rather new perspective on the attitudes not only of the colonizing Greeks but also of the colonized locals, who are regularly characterised as Scythians. Key to this strategy is Herodotos, and especially Book Four of his Histories, which were completed in the early 420s and offer a series of observations and other data about the region and its inhabitants in the 5th century and before. Herodotos is remarkably well-suited to this kind of analysis, for his whole historical endeavour was centred upon cultural interaction and especially cross-cultural misunderstandings. Herodotos’ whole interpretation of war in general and the Persian Wars in particular turns upon the recurrent failure of cultures to understand each other and to grasp the unpredictability of outcomes. Again and again he shows the folly of imperialist ambition and the resilience of poverty, as the rich and powerful lose out to those who seem resourceless and weak. He proffers knowledge (which he claims to have and to show) as the way to a better understanding, centred upon an awareness of cultural difference and a respect for the nomoi through which that difference is expressed and ordered.3 As D. Lateiner acutely observes, mockery of others’ customs is inappropriate in Herodotos’ world-view, however much he may feel free to mock the (un)scholarly analyses of other writers. In the Histories, mocking laughter of the customs of others reveals a failure to understand and to reason adequately. Those who mock other cultures may feel their own power, but in fact they display their weakness. Accordingly, Herodotos takes Kambyses’ mockery of Egyptian religious and other customs to be a clear indication of his madness. Indeed, he chooses to collocate that view with broader theorizing about a human tendency to assume that one’s own customs are preferable.4 Herodotos’ whole analysis, from the programmatic proem onwards, includes a constructive appreciation not only of Greek culture but also of non-Greek behaviour and achievements. That is not to say that Herodotos is uncritical with regard to non-Greek cultures: criticism abounds (e.g. Hdt. 4.46). The point is that he shows an unusual openness to other cultures which was unusual and remarkable: that is why Plutarchos later singled him out (extraordinarily) as a writer who was maliciously antiGreek. Plutarchos’ assessment both illustrates his own hellenocentrism and confirms the fact that Herodotos was able to find much that was positive and admirable in non-Greek cultures as well as in Greek. As a Greek from Halikarnassos, Herodotos had his origins in a city founded at an interface between Greeks and non-Greeks. More important perhaps, he was an extensive traveller, with an essentially optimistic assessment of the benefits of travel and cultural context for deeper understanding, not least his

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own.5 There is an abiding tendency among a minority of scholars to diminish the extent of Herodotos’ travels (particularly with regard to Egypt) and even to hold him guilty of deliberate deception.6 However, there is no good reason to doubt that Herodotos made the journey to the Black Sea, where he seems to have been based (however briefly) at Olbia, which he considered – not unreasonably – to occupy a central position on the northern coast of the Black Sea.7 While the identity of Herodotos’ sources continues to encourage scholarly speculation, he himself tells us that he had conversed with a certain Tymnes, a leading official (epitropos) of the Scythian King Ariapeithes. We cannot infer much about Tymnes’ role, though some have seen him (rightly or wrongly) as particularly active as an agent for the king’s interests in Olbia.8 But it can hardly be claimed without evidence that Herodotos met Tymnes in some location outside the region altogether. Certainly he does not say so. Moreover, Herodotos knows a great deal about Olbia.9 Indeed, it is remarkable that he says as much as he does about the place and its environs, for he has little enough to say about the other colonial communities around the region or about their environs.10 Moreover, it is easy to exaggerate the extent to which the Black Sea region was unfamiliar in the Aegean world in the 420s BC. For example, quite apart from Athens’ long-standing involvement to the north-east since Archaic times, the expedition of Perikles there around 437 BC had brought many of the Black Sea colonies within the Athenian empire, including Olbia.11 What did Herodotos and Tymnes talk about? The extent of their conversation remains obscure, but Herodotos tells us specifically that it included both the family-tree of Scythia’s kings and, most interestingly, Anacharsis’ place within it. Most important, Herodotos sets the information he gained from Tymnes very much in the context of a general Scythian refusal to acknowledge the existence of Anacharsis: “Scythians say that they do not know of him, because he travelled to Greece and adopted foreign ways. But as I myself heard from Tymnes…” (Hdt. 4.76). Evidently, Tymnes was prepared to talk in a way that other Scythians were not, if we may assume the royal epitropos himself to be a Scythian. Since Anacharsis was primarily a figure of Greek culture, it is tempting to explain Scythians’ claim to ignorance about him as no more or less than reality. He was important to Greeks, but may well have been unknown among the people from whom Greeks thought him to have originated. The role of Tymnes is to locate Anacharsis in a Scythian context for Herodotos. It is likely enough that Herodotos was not the first to mention the name to him in search of information, especially if Tymnes spent much of his time in Olbia. Herodotos is the earliest extant author to mention Anacharsis, though his text shows that he expected his audience to be familiar with the Scythian’s name. For when Herodotos first mentions Anacharsis, he feels no need to explain, who he was (4.46). And subsequently, Herodotos also alludes to local stories told about Anacharsis in Greece, specifically among the Pelopon-

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nesians (4.77). The tradition of Anacharsis entails some variations in specifics, but in essence remains consistent throughout Antiquity. He appears as a man moving between cultures (broadly, between Greek and Scythian cultures). The usual perspective on him is overwhelmingly Greek: Anacharsis moves around Greek society and draws attention to its idiosyncrasies, so that what is familiar to a Greek audience is made to seem rather strange. Accordingly, a satirist like Lukianos can make substantial use of Anacharsis to give Greeks a supposedly Scythian view of Greek cultural norms, notably the practices of the gymnasium. In his Anacharsis Lukianos deploys the Scythian as the voice of an intelligent other-world, so as to offer perspectives on Greek society which are both playful and challenging.12 A few decades after Lukianos, Diogenes Laertios composed a summary life of Anacharsis which gives a broad impression of the tradition about the Scythian sage. He cites some Hellenistic authorities, upon whom he clearly draws, but we cannot be sure how much of his summary has its roots in stories which existed even before Herodotos. Diogenes’ summary contains a series of the Scythian’s pointed remarks about wine-consumption and sea-travel (and/ or sea-trade) and the marketplace. His father was a royal Scythian, but his mother was Greek: that is not mentioned by Herodotos, though it may still have been in the tradition he and his audience knew. On account of his parentage, Anacharsis was born the product of two cultures, indeed of cultural relations. Diogenes states that he was bilingual. By contrast with Scythians in general, Anacharsis appears in Diogenes’ summary biography – as also in Herodotos – as a man who had travelled extensively in the Greek world only to be killed on his return to Scythia. Diogenes seems to include Herodotos’ version of his death, slain by his brother for performing imported religious ritual, but he was also aware of another tradition which involved the killing of Anacharsis during a hunt. However, Diogenes places a strong emphasis on the impact of his experience of the Greek world upon the Scythian. He had brought Greek culture back with him and evidently been overwhelmed by its superiority. That was very gratifying to Greeks, a confirmation of the greatness of their culture. For the intelligent Anacharsis, who had come to see both the Greek and the Scythian world – himself both Greek and Scythian –, had been struck by the power of Greek culture. And, on Diogenes’ account, he had sought to spread Greek culture in Scythia, for which he was killed. This Anacharsis is not only an explorer of cultural difference but also, in the light of his exploration, the champion of Hellenism, albeit with criticisms of drunkenness, sea-travel and the marketplace which themselves could be (and were) accommodated comfortably within Greek philosophies of austerity.13 Herodotos is not named by Diogenes, though other authors are mentioned by name. And there is nothing in Diogenes’ summary biography that need be traced specifically to Herodotos. Accordingly, it is all the more difficult to gauge the extent to which Diogenes’ Anacharsis reflects the tradition which Herodotos knew. Yet Herodotos shows himself to be engaged dynamically

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with pre-existing tradition, in that he firmly rejects a Peloponnesian story that Anacharsis had declared the Greeks of the Peloponnese to be the only ones worth talking to. Evidently, Herodotos is as willing to be polemical about Anacharsis as he is about other matters pertaining to Scythia and elsewhere.14 However, Herodotos is in no doubt that Anacharsis was a historical figure, although he observes a general Scythian tendency to deny all knowledge of him. He had gained information about him from Tymnes, the royal epitropos, whether or not after the usual Scythian denial (Hdt. 4.76; Anacharsis’ reality is implied at 4.46 too). And, within the larger context of Herodotos’ journey to Olbia and discussions with Scythians, it is Tymnes’ authority as a source that underpins Herodotos’ account of Anacharsis. Whereas others, before and after Herodotos, had related Anacharsis’ story in Greek contexts and from Greek perspectives, Herodotos claims to offer a version which is informed and so validated by exploration of Olbian and especially Scythian views and places. And that version is both similar and significantly different from the hellenocentric tradition summarised by Diogenes. Herodotos’ Anacharsis is consistent with the rest of the tradition about him insofar as he is shown at the interface of Scythian and Greek cultures. However, Herodotos shows us  – on the authority of Tymnes in part  – an Anacharsis who was not overwhelmed by the superiority of Greek culture in general, for that is not said of him either by Diogenes or Herodotos. The Scythian is shown to be impressed only by the cult of the Great Mother, whose festival he had experienced at Kyzikos and to whom he sacrificed in performance of a vow for his safe return across the sea from Kyzikos to Scythia. Like other Scythians Anacharsis seems not to have relished seatravel, particularly across the notoriously dangerous Black Sea. Meanwhile, the cult of the Great Mother is (in Herodotos’ account) new to Scythia, but it is not straightforwardly Greek. For, however much adopted by the city of Kyzikos, the cult was profoundly Phrygian associated with the forested Mount Dindymene above the city. Anacharsis had fulfilled his vow, after reaching Scythia in safety, by performing the ritual for the Great Mother in the appropriately forested region of Hylaia. There he had been seen and summarily executed. Of course, we are left to wonder whether Tymnes had said all this to Herodotos, and in this manner: we need not imagine Herodotean deception (though some have done so), but there is every chance that the author’s own project and assumptions may have shaped his narrative. It is of some assistance to know that the cult of the Great Mother was well established in Hylaia well before Herodotos visited the region.15 There the cult was under the control of the Greek city of Olbia: Anacharsis may well have been imagined in the city as the founder of the cult, the man who had brought it across the sea from Kyzikos, for there is no sign in Herodotos’ account that the Olbian cult was thought to have existed before the travels of the Scythian sage. If that is right, the Scythians’ execution of Anacharsis expresses not only Scythian resistance to Greek cultural influence (as Hero-

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dotos stresses), but also and more specifically Scythian resistance to the cultural influence of Olbia.16 Herodotos explicitly connects the story of Anacharsis with that of Skyles, whose story is still more clearly linked with Olbia and also illustrates in the Histories Scythian cultural conservatism in the face of Greek influence, especially in the field of religion. As with Anacharsis, Skyles’ story too is that of a royal Scythian (king, no less) who adopts Greek religious practice and is executed by his fellow Scythians in consequence. There is a powerful parallelism between the two stories which has been sufficiently explored elsewhere. Moreover, the story of Skyles has so much in common with the myth of Pentheus, as told some twenty years later in Euripides’ Bacchae, that we should probably take it to have been a tale of the Greek city, with or without some contribution from Scythian informants.17 Skyles had a Greek mother, who had schooled him in Greek (rather like Anacharsis, as we have seen): she herself was from this colonial world, a woman of Istros, on the coast close below the delta of the Danube. Drawn to the Greek culture of Olbia, he had created a secret life for himself in the city, while his people spent months outside the city gates. Scythians were notable, according to Herodotos himself, for their lack of city-walls (4. 46): Olbia’s walls separate the two worlds of Greek citylife and the pastoral nomadism beyond, however much the contrast may be softened by the hellenization of the Scythians of the city’s environs (e.g. 4.17).18 Within the walls, Skyles changes into Greek clothes and sets aside his royalty to become like an Olbian citizen, even participating in some of the city’s cults. As his visits become more frequent and longer, he builds a fine house and takes an Olbian wife. Finally, and disastrously, Skyles decides to be initiated into the cult of Dionysos, which we know to have been significant within the city.19 His dealings with other Greek cults in Olbia had been unproblematic, but Dionysos was different. Skyles is not deterred even by the god’s destruction of his house with a lightning-bolt. It is in this context that Herodotos’ story provides an insight into the atmosphere of cultural interactions. The story puts flesh on the bare bones of Scythian resistance to the religious impulses coming from the Greek city of Olbia, while it also shows the greater power of Greek culture as expressed in the cult of Dionysos. The conversations given and implied by Herodotos demand quotation and closer attention than they have usually received: Scythians reproach Greeks in regard to bacchic frenzy. For they say that it cannot be proper to invent this god who leads people to madness. But when Skyles was performing Bacchic rites, one of the Olbians rushed to the Scythians and said, “You Scythians laugh at us because we perform Bacchic rites and the god takes us. Now the deity has taken your king too, and he performs Bacchic rites and is made mad by the god. If you don’t believe me, follow me and I’ll show you.”

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  The leading Scythians followed him and the Olbian took them up, unseen, to a tower. And when Skyles appeared with the company of revellers and the Scythians saw him performing Bacchic rites, they took it to be a grave matter and went out of the city to tell the whole army what they had seen (Hdt. 4.79). As with Anacharsis’ worship of the Great Mother, Skyles’ initiation in the cult of Dionysos was very much a personal matter. Neither is shown to have been interested in spreading these cults among other Scythians. However, even that is deemed sufficiently unacceptable within Scythian society to require the death of both men. While Herodotos is concerned to stress Scythian conservatism, he also offers rare glimpses of the broader cultural interactions – conversations – involved. This story, which he has evidently gleaned in Olbia itself, as we have seen, shows a local tension between Scythians and Greeks which is specific to an important cult of the Greek city. But at the same time Herodotos explicitly presents the Scythian denial of Dionysos and mockery of his cult as a general phenomenon in Scythian-Greek relationships. The issue is bigger than the local situation at Olbia. Further, it is not only that the Scythians are said not to want the cult. The point is that they are actively hostile to the cult itself: for them, Dionysos is not a god but an improper invention. Moreover, the whole issue is shown in Herodotos’ story to be couched in laughter. The Scythians actively mock Greek Dionysos. Not that Dionysos is straightforwardly Greek either. For, like the Great Mother, Dionysos was recognized as a deity brought into Greek culture from outside, whether from Thrace or from the distant East. And the cults had much else in common, for both were mystery cults with secret rituals of initiation.20 It is worth stressing that Skyles had experienced no problems in his engagement with other Greek cults in Olbia, as Herodotos notes. Mystery cults were challenging within Greek society itself. And – as the stories of Anacharsis and Skyles show – they were especially resistant to easy accommodation with Scythian religion. We should note that Herodotos feels able to identify other Greek deities with Scythian counterparts: As for gods they worship only the following: Hestia especially, then Zeus and Earth (thinking Earth to be Zeus’ wife), then Apollo and Aphrodite Urania and Herakles and Ares. All the Scythians worship these, while the so-called Royal Scythians also sacrifice to Poseidon. In Scythian Hestia is named Tabiti, Zeus is named (entirely appropriately in my view) Papaios, Earth is named Api, Apollo Goitosuros, Aphrodite Urania Argimpasa, and Poseidon Thagimasadas (Hdt. 4.59). It seems to follow that Scythian religious conservatism should have been able to accommodate key Olympian deities, at least in Herodotos’ judgment,

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because these were largely identifiable already in Scythian religion. Presumably the Olympian deities who are not mentioned by Herodotos, might have constituted a problem. However, the stories of Anacharsis and Skyles draw specific attention to the alien cults of the Great Mother and Dionysos. The latter, in particular, is identified as a context for friction in cultural interactions in and around Olbia. And consideration of Scythian mockery of Dionysiac cult takes us back to the aphorisms of the imaginary Anacharsis. The particular focus of Anachar­ sis’ criticisms, for example in the summary version of Diogenes Laertios, is sea-travel, trade and especially wine. Dionysos is regularly presented as a seaborne traveller, specifically conveying fine goods from across the sea. At Athens, for which our information is best, the Anthesteria was celebrated by the introduction of Dionysos into city on a cart made to look like a ship. This was also the festival which marked the opening of the wine from the previous year’s harvest. The interplay in Greek culture between the symposium and sea-travel has often been observed. In that context we should also bear in mind the famous fragment from Hermippos’ Basket-bearers, a comedy performed in Athens at very much the time that Herodotos completed his Histories: Hermippos lists the fine goods which Dionysos has shipped in across the wine-dark sea.21 Herodotos implicitly rejects stereotypes of Scythian drunkenness, for he shows wine being used among the Scythians in controlled circumstances.22 He says nothing directly about Scythian drunkenness or any other misuse of wine among them. However, he does report a self-serving Spartan tradition that Kleomenes’ madness was the result of a habit of drinking unmixed wine which he had picked up from carousing with Scythian envoys. But, although he reports the story, Herodotos firmly rejects it in favour of a religious explanation.23 However, we are left to consider what was said in and around Olbia. For at Olbia the trade in wine brought from the Greek world was a key feature of interaction with the Scythians. Scythians wanted wine, not least for the collective rituals which Herodotos mentions. We are not told that the elite bought and bestowed this wine, but that must be a strong possibility. For we may be sure that imported wine constituted a prestige good, to be deployed by the wealthy and powerful in order to express, strengthen and confirm their elite status in Scythian society. The deposition of imported wine in rich Scythian burials tends to confirm its significance in Scythian society. Rather by contrast, however, Herodotos shows us Scythians mocking the worship of Dionysos. It seems that Scythian society wanted wine, but saw no reason to find a god in it or to import the Greek notions of deity that accompanied wine in Olbia. In Herodotos’ version of the story of Skyles, Scythian mockery of Dionysiac cult is directed at the madness which Dionysos induces. The Olbian response in the story is that the Scythian king himself has been possessed by the god. Skyles’ possession demonstrates that Dionysos was not an improper

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invention by Greek culture. In that way the Scythians’ misplaced and foolish mockery of Dionysos emerges – through the sufferings of Skyles – as a story which validates Olbian culture24 in general and Olbian worship of Dionysos in particular. In other words, the Olbian story not only acknowledges Scythian criticism, but comes with an in-built counter-case in the sufferings of Skyles. Of course, simply by raising the notion that Dionysiac cult might be thought an improper invention, Herodotos might be thought to open a door to criticism of the cult, but the demise of Skyles in the face of the god’s warning lightning-bolt soon slams that door firmly shut again. But what was the usual response by Greeks of the region, away from this specific Olbian tale? While there is no place for certainty here, we must observe that the Spartan story of Kleomenes offers a response in terms of familiar Greek notions about the Scythian abuse of wine. In short, however troped, Scythian mockery of Dionysiac madness was readily countered by Greek assertions that the Scythians do not know how properly to handle either wine or the deity. Given the prominence of wine in Greek-Scythian interactions, we seem to hear conversations surrounding such exchanges which will have been frequent enough. The tone is harder to gauge, but Herodotos’ observation of the grave Scythian reaction to Skyles’ initiation, leading to his execution, suggests that there is a depth of hostility to this badinage. At the same time, Greeks too presumably responded with some hostility to Scythian mockery of Dionysos. At the very least a Greek perspective might well claim that Scythians should get to know Dionysos in order to form a more balanced relationship with wine. After all, the wine that was important to Scythian society was, from a Greek perspective, the gift of Dionysos. Was that indeed the ideological context within which Scythian society – or at least some part of it – came to embrace the Dionysiac cult?25 At the same time, we may well be persuaded by those scholars who argue that the Scythian elite was much more open to Greek influence than the average Scythian.26 After all, the elite had special reason to deal with Greeks, whether economically or politically. We should note that Skyles’ regular and extended visits to Olbia seem to have caused no disquiet: the rest of the Scythians spent long periods outside the walls, presumably engaged in exchange with the people of Olbia. And Herodotos’ conversation with the Scythian epitropos Tymnes presumably took place within the city. Indeed, while S.D. Kryžickij has shown that the notion of a “Scythian protectorate” over Olbia in the 5th century BC has nothing to recommend it,27 we may even reverse the notion. For the Scythian elite, Olbia may have been attractive as a haven which offered not only prestige goods but also new ideas and a different lifestyle which evidently had attractions for leading Scythians other than the half-Greek Skyles. While King Skyles marks an extreme example, his dealings with the culture of Olbia serve to express the dangers for a Scythian leader whose very status demanded that he form relationships with the city and with Greek culture in general. While Scythians mocked Dionysiac cult, they

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seem broadly to have valued the goods of Greek culture which were available at Olbia. We hear little in our literary accounts about Scythians who rejected goods as well as beliefs, though Anacharsis sometimes comes close. In that sense the Scythians were quite different from Herodotos’ Ethiopians, who are so distant and distinct from Mediterranean culture that they see nothing in Persian gifts except deception and grounds for just humour.28 Slave-trading offered further scope for friction and badinage, as Herodotos tells us. We know in any case that slaves were of great importance in the trade between Scythians and Greeks: to a large extent it was the Scythians’ ability to supply slaves that allowed them to purchase Greek wine.29 But how did Scythians and Greeks converse about slaves and slavery? Or how did slavery figure in conversations between Scythians and the Greeks of Olbia? Remarkably enough, Herodotos gives us an insight. Of course, slavery is a key theme of the Histories in general and is important also in Book Four, which opens with the theme and carries it through until the end of the Scythian logos. Meanwhile, Herodotos draws attention to the view of the Royal Scythians that other Scythians are their slaves (4.20) and to the particularly vigorous Scythian reaction to Darios’ implication that they should acknowledge that they are his slaves. Clearly, Herodotos, who was well-placed to know, found Scythians very sensitive about slavery, but he also shows them asserting that the Ionians are themselves servile: Scythians…judge Ionians, insofar as being free, as the worst and least manly of all mankind, but, considering the Ionians as slaves, they say that they are servile master-lovers and most unlikely to run away. This is what among Scythians is thrown at Ionians (Hdt. 4.142). Herodotos roots the Scythian assessment in his story of Darios’ bridge across the Danube. The Greek tyrants whom Herodotos had left to hold it for him had not only decided to follow his orders but had deliberately tricked the Scythians who had come to urge its destruction. The Greeks at the bridge had come to the judgment that it was in their interest to have Darios in power, since their own positions depended on the Persian king’s. Be that as it may, however important was the incident at the bridge, Herodotos is clear that Scythians reproached Ionians with slavery as a general tendency. Of course, Olbia itself, where Herodotos had been, was an Ionian city. It follows that Scythians could reproach Olbians not only over Dionysiac frenzy but also over their servility. Indeed, Olbia is the most likely location for Herodotos’ experience or knowledge of Scythian humour on this topic. Meanwhile, there were other important differences between Scythians and the Greeks of the Black Sea, including Olbia. As Book Four unfolds, Herodotos relates different versions of Scythian origins which show a substantial gulf between Scythian and local Greek conceptions of Scythian origins and in that

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sense of Scythian identity. For Herodotos reports that Scythians derived their origins from their own heroic progenitor Targitaos, the son of Zeus (presumably Scythian Papaios) and a daughter of the River Borysthenes. His successor was identified with the help of gold objects which had dropped from the heavens and became the great religious treasures of the Scythian people, which their kings honoured with great sacrifices (4.5‑7). All this stands in marked contrast with the story told by the Greeks of the Black Sea. Their version has no place for Targitaos or for the heaven-sent gold which remained so important to Scythian society. Nor do we find Zeus/Papaios or the daughter of Borysthenes. Instead we have a story linked to Herakles’ labour with regard to Geryon. This Greek version denies the whole Scythian account and replaces it with a less elevated tale which traces Scythian origins to the negotiated union of Herakles and a creature who is half-woman and half-snake. A protoScythian son of Herakles emerges with the name Scythes, which suits Greek aetiological notions, but has little to offer the Scythians who (as Herodotos observes) call themselves not Scythians but Skolotai (4.8‑10; cf. 6). Meanwhile, Herodotos does not explain how this Greek notion of Herakles as the Scythian progenitor related, if at all, to the Scythian reverence for a deity whom he himself describes as Herakles (4.59, above). For there is no sign of Herakles in the Scythians’ own version of their origins.30 Herodotos presents these two accounts of Scythian origins simply as different, locating them in Scythian and local Greek society respectively. Both versions tend towards Olbia. The Scythian version gives prominence to the River Borysthenes, whose name echoes Olbia (named Borysthenes in Herodotos) and whose estuary – shared with the Hypanis – provided the city with its location. And the Greek version draws attention to Hylaia, within the civic territory of the city of Olbia. In that sense we have a Scythian version and an Olbian version. However, we may reasonably wonder how Scythians and Greeks talked about Scythian origins. All the more so, perhaps, in this colonial world where the origins of the Black Sea cities were substantial issues. For real friction is latent in the two accounts. The former is elevated, with supernatural validation and an abiding relevance to current Scythian religion and identity. By contrast the latter hardly flatters Scythians and fails to acknowledge the importance of their name or their gold relics. Indeed, the Greek version would even lend itself to the creation of a comedy, though Herodotos does not present it in that fashion. Be that as it may, there was scope for hostility and badinage between Scythians and Greeks in matters of origin too. That scope is all the more evident when we consider Herodotos’ account of Thracian Salmoxis, where again we find a gulf between the stories told respectively by Thracians and by Greeks of the Black Sea and Hellespont. Here the latent friction is clearer still. Salmoxis was a deity of enormous significance in Thracian culture, especially among the Getai. For Salmoxis was central to a Thracian belief in life after death. In particular, those who died were believed to go to join him, while messengers were regularly “sent to him”, having

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been chosen by lot and sacrificed (4.94). The local Greeks turned this central Thracian belief into a story of Thracian stupidity and gullibility in the face of Greek cunning. For on their view Salmoxis was not a god but a Thracian man. He had been a slave in the Greek world, like many another Thracians, but had the particular advantage of serving the philosopher Pythagoras. Having been granted his freedom, Salmoxis returned home to Thrace, with the material and intellectual riches which he had acquired as a slave among Greeks. Salmoxis saw that the Thracians lived at an inferior level, materially and intellectually. And so, by a simple ruse extended over some years, Salmoxis convinced his fellow Thracians that he had died and come to life again. No doubt in the service of Pythagoras he would have become familiar with notions of immortality. In accordance with Greek symposium-culture and the renowned Thracian propensity for feasting, Salmoxis hosted a meal for the leading Thracians and affirmed that they would enjoy immortality. He promptly vanished into an underground chamber which he had prepared beneath his house. There he stayed for three years, mourned by the Thracians, until he re-appeared and thereby convinced the Thracians about immortality (4.95‑96). Herodotos rejects the chronology of the local Greek version, on the grounds that Pythagoras and Salmoxis cannot have been contemporaries. He leaves open the question of which version of Salmoxis is true. But what matters most in all this is the sharp and abrasive contrast between the two versions. The account of Salmoxis given by the Greeks of the Black Sea and Hellespont demonstrates their colossal disregard and disrespect for Thracian culture and religious belief. For these Greeks deny that Salmoxis was a deity at all: instead he is a cunning ex-slave. His powers are, on their account, not divine, but the product of his Greek knowledge. Their belief is the result of their stupidity and inferiority to Greek wisdom. Accordingly, their notions of immortality are muddled and debased versions of Pythagorean philosophy. Salmoxis is not a god but a Thracian who has learnt a lot among Greeks, so that he can exploit the stupidity of his fellow-countrymen. In consequence, there is no sound basis for key Thracian beliefs and rituals. Rather as Scythians denied Dionysos’ divinity, so local Greeks denied that of Salmoxis. As with the different versions of Scythian origins (Scythian and local Greek), Herodotos does not draw out the implications of the differences between the versions of Salmoxis’ story told by local Greeks and Thracians. But they are inescapable for all that. And in Scythia, too, what emerges from the contrasting versions is a local Greek disdain not only for the Scythian past but also for the Scythian present. Herodotos could hardly be clearer that the gold objects which fell from the heavens to become the arbiters of power in Scythia, continued to be of prime importance to Scythian society in general and to Scythian kings in particular (4.7). The Black Sea Greeks give them no acknowledgment. It is true that even on the Greek account Scythian kings can claim descent from Zeus, the father of Herakles. But when Herodotos

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shows us King Idanthyrsos referring to his descent from Zeus as well as his reverence for Hestia (4.127; cf. 59), he presumably should be taken to mean the Scythian versions of these deities. As for the Scythian Herakles, whom Herodotos mentions (4. 59), we can assume nothing. Certainly the Scythian Ares – embodied in a sword and receiving human sacrifice – looks rather different from his more familiar Greek counterpart (4.61).31 The story of Salmoxis serves to remind us that, while Olbia was a major forum for exchange (verbal and economic) between Scythians and Greeks, it was not the only one. Istros, for example, was well-placed for interaction between Greeks and the Getan devotees of Salmoxis. We happen to be told that it was also the homeland of the Greek mother of Skyles, who was to meet his death towards Thrace.32 We must locate most Greek-Scythian interaction on the coasts of the Black Sea and Hellespont, not least because these waters are used by Herodotos to characterise the Greeks of the region. The Greek colonies of the region, as also around the Mediterranean, are overwhelmingly orientated upon the sea. But that is not to say that all Scythian-Greek contact was limited to the coast, for it clearly was not. In particular, the great rivers of the region which so impressed Herodotos offered a network of routes into and out of the hinterland. As for the interior, Herodotos’ account of Gelonos is very revealing (4.108‑109). Herodotos is convinced that its population – the Gelonoi – were of Greek origin, and so distinct from their Scythian neighbours, the Boudinoi. In fact he is so convinced as to denounce Greek accounts which have failed to see as much. His description of Gelonos and the Gelonoi displays his criteria for difference between Scythians and Greeks, which echo other sections of Book Four. Gelonos has substantial walls (together with houses and temples – all of wood), whereas Herodotos’ Scythians do not (cf. 4.46). While Scythians have no temples proper (4.59‑61), the Gelonoi have temples of Greek gods, fitted out with statues, altars and the like in a Greek fashion. Moreover, the Gelonoi celebrate a triennial festival for Dionysos and give themselves over to Bacchic frenzy. The story of Skyles demonstrates in the Histories that Dionysos and Bacchic frenzy were wholly alien to Scythian culture. Meanwhile, the language of the Gelonoi was a mixture of Scythian and Greek. At the same time, Herodotos offers an explanation for the existence of this Greek community deep in Scythia: they had moved – he asserts – to settle among the Boudinoi from the emporia, presumably sites on the coast. It is worth stressing that Herodotos says nothing about the reasons for that move. Scholars and translators often introduce into his text the notion that these Greeks had moved as a result of violence, but he does not say that. We should do better to make the more obvious assumption that they had moved deeper inland from the coastal emporia in search of better economic opportunities. And that does not mean only trade. For the Gelonoi practise agriculture and horticulture, by contrast with the pastoralist Boudinoi. Finally, the Greekness of the Gelonoi is confirmed by their physical appearance, which is very

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different from that of the Scythian Boudinoi. According to Herodotos, Greeks had moved to build Gelonos and to develop their semi-Scythian language in the hinterland in Antiquity, long before he completed his Histories in the later 5th century (4.108‑109). Doubts abide as to the existence of Gelonos, but archaeology shows very clearly that the wooded steppe of the hinterland in fact contained a series of major settlements, notable for their substantial use of timber. While modern scholarship treats the populations of these large settlements as Scythians, it is clear that their lifestyles were very different from the pastoralist world of the steppe grasslands to their south. Accordingly, it is not hard to see why Herodotos could regard such sites as un-Scythian and as the importation into the hinterland of the Greek urbanism of the coast. Such Greeks might come from large communities, notably from Olbia itself, but also from lesser communities, like Kremnoi on the Sea of Azov. Moreover, we should also acknowledge that such communities did indeed provide opportunities for some measure of Greek settlement – however limited – which were much less practicable among the Scythian pastoralists. For we may be confident that there were Greeks – traders in particular – who journeyed deep into Scythia and even made lives for themselves there. Herodotos happens to mention such pioneers, whom he terms the Greeks dwelling in the Scythian land, distinguishing them from the Greeks of the Black Sea. These were the Greeks who (as well as Scythians) reported that the Neuroi of the distant hinterland turned into wolves for a few days each year (4.105). Meanwhile, the hinterland was also explored, as Herodotos indicates, by Greeks from the emporia of the Black Sea coast, including the region of Olbia. For such men, and also Scythian informants, had penetrated as far inland as the bald Argippaioi (4.23‑24). Nor should we assume that all journeys into the interior followed riverine routes. Archaeologists have long suspected that there was a lively trade across the hinterland between Olbia and the Tanais (Don).33 Meanwhile, there is a scatter of indications that some Greeks were indeed visitors and residents at Scythian settlements of the interior.34 Of particular interest is a burnished jar from an Archaic pit at the settlement of Nemirovo, located deep in the hinterland from the north-west coast of the Black Sea (Fig. 1). The body of the jar has survived with a little damage and some random scratching. The jar was made on site, as the rest of the pottery assemblage shows. While it has been scratched here and there, evidently by chance, the concentration of marks at the shoulder seems to be a group of Greek letters (Fig. 2). Hitherto, these letters have been optimistically interpreted to give a meaningful invocation of a religious nature, but they are better seen as something more simple, most probably a name.35 Of course, the use of Greek letters in the hinterland at Nemirovo does not demonstrate the presence of Greeks there in the Archaic period,36 but it does show a small detail of the penetration of Greek culture into the interior at that time. Meanwhile, a range of fragments of imported east Greek fine-ware and amphorae illustrates the fact of ex-

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Fig. 1. Burnished jar from Nemirovo.

change between Nemirovo and the Greek world. We do not know how that exchange was conducted and mediated, but it is not hard to imagine traders (Scythians, Olbians or whatever) bringing Greek goods and Greek culture from the coast of the Black Sea into the interior.37 At the same time, we may reasonably wonder what the local population of Nemirovo made of Greek fineware. Did they consider it valuable in some sense? Or was it a source of mild consternation, even laughter?

 

Fig. 2. Letters scratched on shoulder of jar.

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Clearly, interaction between Scythians and Greeks occurred at a range of locations around the north of the Black Sea and its interior. It also occurred with different degrees of intensity, both where Scythians were in the majority and where Greeks were, as in Olbia. Throughout, economic factors seem to drive much of this interaction, but the concomitant conversations between the different cultures (both literal and metaphorical) extended far beyond short-term economic exchanges. We have seen how economic exchanges were interwoven with diplomatic exchanges, as between the Scythian elite and the Olbians. We have seen also how exchanges of wine and slaves could become conversations about religion and political freedom. Throughout, there was dangerous scope for conflict on these and other subjects besides, such as origins. And, with the story of Skyles, Herodotos draws attention to the hostility inherent in the mutual misunderstandings, mockery and abuse which could arise from discussions of these kinds. All the more so when Greeks of the region demonstrated such cultural chauvinism as is most apparent in their account of Salmoxis. Herodotos specifically excludes Scythians from his general view that the peoples of the Black Sea people are backward, but we should not suppose that other Greeks gave them that benefit. All the more so, when Herodotos’ exception arises substantially from Anacharsis, a Scythian who could be accommodated within Greek culture more easily than among Scythians (4.46). Certainly, the unreflective and over-confident Scythian misunderstanding inherent in the Olbian story of Skyles does not suggest much respect for Scythian wisdom in general, whether in Olbia or elsewhere. Greeks commented on the blunt wit of Scythians, the proverbial “Scythian speech” as demonstrated by Herodotos’ Idanthyrsos and Diogenes’ Anacharsis. This is part of their general austerity, which both recalls the Spartans and further expresses the gulf between themselves and the wordy culture of the Ionians. That explains the Peloponnesian notion (rejected by Herodotos) that Anacharsis saw them as the only Greeks worth speaking with (4.77). In large part, on this view, Scythians and Greeks not only have different things to say, but also speak in different ways.38 It was not only the content of conversations but also their very manner that set Scythians and Olbians apart. There was ample scope for offence. We have noted Idanthyrsos’ violent reaction to Persian talk of slavery, which was hardly controversial from a Persian perspective. Still more extreme was the reaction of Scythians in the service of Kyaxares, set out in Book One of the Histories. For Scythian society hunting was a key concern, so that when Kyaxares was harsh to his Scythians for a rare hunting failure they reacted by killing and serving up for the king the flesh of a youth placed in their charge (1.72). It was important not to insult Scythians. The whole colonial experience to the north of the Black Sea was played out around and through interaction between cultures. Herodotos is unusual in seeking to draw distinctions in the region between those who were Scythian and those who were part Scythian or something else. He is unusual also, as we have seen, in showing significant respect for non-Greek cultures. Such

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respect was the safest and surest route to successful Greek settlement, especially in its earlier nascent and vulnerable stages. There was everything to be gained from symbiosis and cultural osmosis, as exemplified by the emergence of peoples around Olbia whom Herodotos terms “Helleno-Scythians” (4.17). And this was a two-way process: Greeks of Olbia, for example, could be seen by Athenians and others as less than properly Greek.39 But the hard realities of security, diplomacy and trade demanded that a successful colony engage constructively with its local neighbours. From earliest contacts, intermarriage was a central issue, for Greek colonists were overwhelmingly male while women from the colonies were subsequently taken as Scythian wives. Most important, constructive engagement meant viable conversation (whether or not mediated by interpreters). Above all the colony had to maintain working relationships with local rulers, whatever the tensions at play – economic, diplomatic, military and personal. It is salutary to recall the laudatory narrative inscribed in Hellenistic Olbia to honour the civic champion Protogenes. He had gone to negotiate with King Saitapharnes, a regular visitor to the region with his forces. The conversation had gone badly wrong so that the king had flown into a rage. That was not the recipe for colonial success but a disaster, which (as the honorific decree informs us) Protogenes managed to overcome, together with his other achievements for his city and for himself. Notes 1 See, for example, Osborne 1998; Gosden 2004. This paper has benefited from discussions at the conference and after: I am particularly grateful to David Harvey and M.Ju. Vachtina for their comments. All responsibility for views expressed remains with me. 2 On West 2002, presenting this and other arguments, see the critical remarks of Braund 2005a. 3 I have argued this in detail in Braund 1989. 4 Lateiner 1977; cf. e.g. Munson 2001, 169‑70. Further, Dewald 2006, esp. 162 note 9 for bibliography on humour in Herodotos. 5 Redfield 1985; Friedman 2006. 6 A balanced example of that tendency is West 2004; cf. also West 2007. Observe the reflections of Cartledge & Greenwood 2002. 7 Braund 2007, with West 2007, who accepts that (whether he went there himself or not) Herodotos had fine knowledge of Olbia. 8 Tymnes is discussed by all the commentators, among whom the useful Dovatur, Kallistov and Šišova 1982 is often ignored, presumably because it is in Russian: cf. Skržinskaja 1998, 72‑130, esp.102 and 116, asserting that Tymnes was an Olbian without argument. West 2004 observes that the epitropos seems to embody Ariapeithes’ own openness to Greek culture. 9 Argued in detail in Braund 2007. 10 West 2004, 78 finds this lack of interest surprising. Perhaps, but Herodotos is most interested in Scythians in Book Four: much of his information about Olbia (as e.g. the Skyles’ story) is primarily there to illustrate Scythian society.

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11 For detailed argument, see Braund 2005b. West 2004, 79 makes too much of the self-serving suggestion of Polybios about the remoteness of Byzantium and the Euxine (4.38.1). Much depends on the imagined location of his audience. Meanwhile, Arrianos seems to have travelled only along that part of the coast (the east) which lay within his provincial realm, which lay far from Olbia. It is true that Herodotos could have said more about the location of the city (as West 2004, 78 expects), but while the map may be taken to show the estuaries of the Dnieper and Bug as a single body of water, the more important point is that visitors to Olbia have no sense that they are on a river at all. 12 On Lukianos, see, for example, Branham 1989. 13 Note the Cynics in particular: Martin 1996. 14 Hdt. 4.108‑109; cf. 4.36. 15 Braund 2007. 16 If that is right, Anacharsis is even more like Skyles than has been observed: cf. Hartog 1988. 17 Hartog 1988. On the echoes between Skyles’ story and Euripides Bacchae, see Braund 2001. 18 See further Marčenko 2005 with the different perspective of Kryžickij 2006; cf. Braund 2007. 19 On Dionysos in Olbia and Olbian religion, see Kryžickij et al. 1999, 538‑604; cf. Rusyayeva 2007. 20 Note also that the Great Mother at Olbia seems close to Demeter: Braund 2007. At Athens, Demeter and Dionysos were a familiar pair: Seaford 2006, 22. 21 Gilula 2000. 22 Hdt. 4.62; 66; 70. There seems no good reason to imagine that Herodotos could mean something other than wine in these passages, though West 2004, 84‑85 sees some merit in the notion. 23 Hdt.6.84. For the stereotype, see also Platon, Laws, 637e, contrasting Spartans and Scythians. On Kleomenes’ death, Griffith 1989. 24 Pace Scullion 2006, 202, who finds here a Herodotean technique of indirect criticism. 25 Bessonova 1983; Raevskij 1985. 26 Rusyayeva 2007, with further bibliography. 27 Kryzhitskiy 2005. 28 Hdt. 3.22 with Lateiner 1977, 177. In general, Dewald 2006. 29 Gavriljuk 1999; 2003. Note also Taylor 2001. 30 See especially Grakov 1950; cf. Bessonova 1983. 31 See, for example, Bessonova 1984. 32 Note the discovery of the “ring of Skyles” towards Histria: SEG 30. 800; Vinogradov 1997, 613‑633. For discussion and further bibliography, see West 2004, 83‑84. 33 See esp. Medvedev 1997. 34 Rusjaeva 1999; Vachtina 2005. 35 On Nemirovo in general, see Smirnova 1998. I am most grateful to the author for discussion and access to this jar, kept in the State Hermitage Museum. I am also very appreciative of the good offices of M.Ju. Vachtina and to A.Ju. Alekseev, with whom I examined the jar. I wish also to thank colleagues in the Hermitage who provided the photographs printed here. None of the above bear any responsibility for my views on the jar. For an optimistic reading, see Grakov 1959. 36 Such is illustrated well enough at Caesar, Gallic War, 1.29.

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37 On imported fine-ware at Nemirovo, see especially Vachtina 1998; cf. more extensive discussion in Vachtina 2005. 38 On Spartan humour in the Histories, see Dewald 2006, 148‑149; cf. David 1989. Note the Peloponnesian claim at Hdt. 4.77. 39 Dion Chrysostomos’ account of Olbian culture at the end of the first century AD centres upon the idiosyncrasy of their Hellenism, both antiquated and showing local barbarian influence: see further Braund 1997.

Bibliography Bessonova, S.S. 1983. Religioznye predstavlenija skifov. Kiev. Bessonova, S.S. 1984. O kul’te oružija u skifov, in: E.V. Černenko (ed.), Vooruženie skifov i sarmatov. Kiev, 3‑21. Branham, R.B. 1989. Unruly Eloquence: Lukianos and the Comedy of Traditions. Cambridge, Ma. Braund, D. 1989. Herodotus and the problematics of reciprocity, in: C. Gill, N. Postletyhwaite & R. Seaford (eds.), Reciprocity in ancient Greece. Oxford, 159‑180. Braund, D. 1997. Greeks and barbarians: the Black Sea region and hellenism under the early Roman empire, in: S. Alcock (ed.), The early Roman empire in the east. Oxford, 121‑136. Braund, D. 2001. Palace and polis: Dionysus, Scythia and Plutarch’s Alexander, in I. Nielsen (ed.), The royal palace institution in the first millennium BC. Athens, 15‑31. Braund, D. 2005a. Reflections on Eumelus’ Black Sea region, in: D. Kacharava, M. Faudot & E. Geny (eds.), Pont-Euxin et polis. Actes du Xe symposium de Vani. Paris, 99‑112. Braund, D. 2005b. Pericles, Cleon and the Pontus: the Black Sea in Athens c. 440‑421, in: D. Braund (ed.), Scythians and Greeks: cultural interactions in Scythia, Athens and the early Roman empire. Exeter, 81‑99. Braund, D. 2007. Greater Olbia: ethnic, religious, economic and political interactions in the region of Olbia c. 600‑100 BC, in: D. Braund & S.D. Kryzhitskiy (eds.), Classical Olbia & the Scythian world. Oxford, 37-77. Cartledge, P. & E. Greenwood 2002. Herodotus as a critic: truth, fiction, polarity, in: E. Bakker, I.J.F. de Jong & H. van Wees (eds.), Brill’s Companion to Herodotus. Leiden, 351‑371. David, E. 1989. Laughter in Spartan society, in: A. Powell (ed.), Classical Sparta. Techniques behind her success. London, 1‑25. Dewald, C. 2006. Humour and danger in Herodotus, in: C. Dewald & J. Marincola (eds.), The Cambridge Companion to Herodotus. Cambridge, 145‑164. Dovatur, A.I., D.P. Kallistov & I.A. Šišova 1982. Narody našej strany v “Istorii” Gerodota. Moskva. Friedman, R. 2006. Location and dislocation in Herodotus, in: C. Dewald & J. Marincola (eds.), The Cambridge Companion to Herodotus. Cambridge, 165‑77.

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Gavriljuk, N.A. 1999. Istorija ekonomiki stepnoj Skifii VI-III vv. do n.e. Kiev. Gavriljuk, N.A. 2003. The Graeco-Scythian slave-trade in the sixth and fifth centuries BC, in: P. Guldager Bilde, J. Munk Højte & V.F. Stolba (eds.), The cauldron of Ariantas: studies presented to A.N. Shcheglov on his 70th birthday. Aarhus, 75‑85. Gilula, D. 2000. Hermippos and his catalogue of goods (fr.63), in: D. Harvey & J. Wilkins (eds.), The rivals of Aristophanes. London, 75‑90. Gosden, C. 2004. Archaeology and colonialism. Oxford. Grakov, B.N. 1950. Skifskij Gerakl, KSIIMK 34, 3‑15. Grakov, B.N. 1959. Grečeskoe graffito iz Nemirovskovo gorodišča, SovA 1, 48‑54. Griffiths, A.H. 1989. Was Kleomenes mad?, in: A. Powell (ed.), Classical Sparta. London, 51‑78. Hartog, F. 1988. The Mirror of Herodotus: The Representation of the Other in the Writing of History. Translated by J. Lloyd (The New Historicism: Studies in Cultural Poetics, 5). Berkeley-Los Angeles. Kindstrand, J.F. 1981. Anacharsis. Lund. Kryzhitskiy, S.D. 2005. Olbia and the Scythians in the fifth century BC: the Scythian “protectorate”, in: D. Braund (ed.) Scythians and Greeks: cultural interactions in Scythia, Athens and the early Roman empire. Exeter, 123‑130. Kryžickij, S.D. 2006 “The rural environs of Olbia: some problems of current importance”, in: P. Guldager Bilde & V.F. Stolba (eds.), Surveying the Greek chora: the Black Sea region in a comparative perspective. Aarhus, 99‑114. Kryžickij, S.D. et al. 1999. Ol’vija. Antičnoe gosudarstvo v Severnom Pričernomor’e. Kiev. Lateiner, D. 1977. No laughing matter: a literary tactic in Herodotus”, TAPA 107, 173‑82. Marčenko, K.K. 2005. Greki i varvary Severo-Zapadnogo Pričernomor’ja skifskoj epochi, in: Marčenko (ed.) Greki i varvary Severnovo Pričernomor’ja v skifskuju epochu. St Peterburg, 42‑136. Martin, R.P. 1996. The Scythian accent: Anacharsis and the Cynics”, in: R.B. Branham & M.-O. Goulet-Cazé (eds.), The Cynics: the Cynic movement in antiquity and its legacy. Berkeley, 136‑155. Medvedev, A.P. 1997. Ol’vijskie torgovye puti i stepen’ dostovernosti etnogeografičeskich dannych Gerodota, Archeologija 4, 24‑28. Munson, R.V. 2001. Telling wonders: ethnographic and political discourse in the work of Herodotus. Michigan. Osborne, R. 1998. Early Greek colonization? The nature of Greek settlement in the West, in: N. Fisher & H. van Wees (eds.), Archaic Greece. London, 251‑269. Raevskij, D.S. 1985. Model’ mira skifskoy kul’tury. Moskva. Redfield, J. 1985. Herodotus the tourist, ClPhil 80, 97‑118. Rusjaeva, A.S. 1999. Proniknovenie ellinov na territoriju Ukrainskoj lesostepi v archaičeskoe vremja (k postanovke problemy), VDI 4, 84‑97.

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Rusyayeva, A.S. 2007. Religious interactions between Olbia and Scythia, in: D. Braund (ed.), Olbia and the Scythian world. Oxford. Scullion, S. 2006. Herodotus and Greek religion, in: C. Dewald & J. Marincola (eds.), The Cambridge Companion to Herodotus. Cambridge, 192‑208. Seaford, R. 2006. Dionysos. London. Skržinskaja, M.V. 1998. Skifija glazami ellinov. St Peterburg. Smirnova, G.I. 1998. Skifskoe poselen’ie na Nemirovskom gorodišče: obščie dannye o pamjatnike, Materialy po Archeologii, Istorii i Etnografii Tavrii 6, 77‑121. Taylor, T.F. 2001. Believing the ancients: quantitative and qualitative dimensions of slavery and the slave trade in later prehistoric Eurasia, World Archaeology 33, 27‑43. Vachtina, M.Ju. 1998. Osnovnye kategorii grečeskoj importnoj keramiki iz raskopok Nemirovskovo gorodišča, Materialy po Archeologii, Istorii i Etnografii Tavrii 6, 122‑139. Vachtina, M.Ju. 2005. Grečeskoe isskustvo i isskustvo Evropejskoj Skifii”, in: K.K. Marčenko (ed.), in: Marčenko (ed.) 2005, 297‑399. Vinogradov, Ju.G. 1997. Pontische Studien. Mainz. West, M.L. 2002. ‘Eumelos’: a Corinthian epic cycle?, JHS 122, 109‑133. West, S.R. 2004. Herodotus and Scythia, in: V. Karageorghis & I. Taifacos (eds.), The world of Herodotus. Nicosia, 73‑89. West, S.R. 2007. Herodotus and Olbia, in: D. Braund (ed.), Olbia and the Scythian world. Oxford. Abbreviations SEG

Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum. Leiden.

Dionysos and Herakles in Scythia ‒ The Eschatological String of Herodotos’ Book 4 George Hinge

The mysteries of Dionysos and of Meter and the teachings of the Pythagoreans play a crucial role in Herodotos’ Histories in general and in the Scythian logos in particular. The mysteries are, however, not referred to overtly, but concealed in disparate details in the narrative. It will be the ambition of the present article to combine these details into a complete and coherent picture.1 I shall argue that Herodotos’ Book 4 is pervaded by an “eschatological ideology” which serves to illustrate the fundamental difference between Scythian nomadism and Greek civilisation.

The Scythian king in ecstasy An often-quoted testimony to Dionysiac cult in the Greek colony of Olbia is Herodotos’ tragic story of the Scythian King Skyles (4.78‑80). He had a Greek mother, was fond of Greek customs and stayed for a month or more a year in Olbia. He kept a house and a wife in the city. Eventually, he chose to be initiated into the mysteries of Dionysos Bakcheios. The story is presented as an illustration of the reservations of the Scythians towards Greek culture.2 Accordingly, when the Scythians learn what their king is doing behind the walls of Olbia, Skyles is forced to escape to Thrace, only to be rendered back and executed. Herodotos is not particularly precise as to the nature of the initiation, but I shall try to substantiate that Skyles was initiated into Dionysiac mysteries of the so-called Orphic type, popular in many parts of the Greek world in the Classical age. A couple of inscriptions have been discovered that document the existence of these mysteries in Olbia. The most interesting – and most often referred to – are three bone tablets carrying the following inscriptions: SEG XXVIII, 659 βίος. θα´νατος. βίος. ἀλήθεια. Ζα(γρευ´ς). Διο´(νυσος) Ὀρφικοί “Life. Death. Life. Truth. Za(greus?). Dio(nysos). Orphics”

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George Hinge SEG XXVIII, 660 εἰρήνη. πο´λεμος. ἀλήθεια. ψεῦδος. Διο´ν(υσος) “Peace. War. Truth. Lie. Dion(ysos)” SEG XXVIII, 661 Διο´ν(υσος). ἀλήθεια. σῶμα. ψυχή “Dion(ysos). Truth. Body. Soul.”

Even though it is anything but evident what the actual function of these tablets was, they send a clear message: Life ends with death, but after that a new life begins. Furthermore, this belief in an afterlife is associated explicitly with Dionysos and the Orphics. The popularity of Orphic beliefs in the northern Black Sea area is supported by other inscriptions from Olbia.3 A bronze mirror dated to ca. 500 BC carrying a Dionysiac inscription reflects without doubt the Orphic myth of Dionysos’ death, according to which the god looked at himself in a mirror when he was attacked by the Titans (cf. Orph. fr. 209 Kern).4 A fragment of a black-glazed kylix found in Olbia carries the very beginning of Odysseus’ own tale in the Odyssey (9.39): Ἰλιο´[θεν] με φ[ε´ρων] ἄνεμ[ος Κικ]ο´νεσσι [πε´λ]ασσεν “a wind brought me from Troy to the Kikonians” (= SEG XXX, 933); given that the concept of the wind carrying the soul to and fro was ascribed to Orpheus (Arist. De an. 410b = Orph. fr. 27 Kern), and the Thracian Kikonians and their king Ismaros were connected not only with wine (Od. 9.196‑7, Archil. fr. 2.2 West), but also with Dionysos (cf. Ps.-Hes. fr. 238 Merkelbach-West), the inscription may be yet another testimony to the character of the Olbian cult of Dionysos.5 I would like to see Orphic beliefs in later inscriptions from Pantikapaion as well: e.g. CIRB 117 (3rd century BC): the deceased breaths Lenaios;6 CIRB 119 (2nd-1st centuries BC): killed in battle, the deceased will go, not to Hades, but to the land of heroes; CIRB 121 (1st century BC): the deceased has escaped the wheel of calamities.7 We are in a rather controversial area of Classical studies. The label of Orphism was ambiguous in Antiquity, and one cannot point out a single Orphic doctrine or school like, say, the Pythagorean, Platonic or Aristotelian schools (which are not, of course, uniform either). The mythical name of “Orpheus” was rather a seal of approval given to writings belonging to diverse intellectual movements. These obligatory reservations being stated, it must be admitted that both in Classical and Hellenistic times there were in fact religious societies which have to be called and were called “Orphic”.8 The Olbian bone tablets are an important testimony to that. Furthermore, the existence of an OrphicDionysiac cult is confirmed by gold leaves found in graves from South Italy, Crete, and Thessaly dating to the Classical and Hellenistic periods. They give instructions to the deceased of what he or she is going to do when he or she enters Hades, and we learn of two different ends: the ordinary souls live in the forgetful darkness of Hades, whereas the souls of the initiates drink of the Lake of Memory and come to another, more joyful place.9 In a gold leaf found in Hipponion in Calabria (= Graf & Johnston 2007, no 1, ca. 400 BC), the initiates are called mystai kai bakchoi, which demonstrates beyond doubt that

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Dionysos played a main role in the ritual. Two gold leaves found in Pelinna in Thessaly (no 26a-b, late 4th century BC) start with these verses: νῦν ἔθανες καὶ νῦν ἐγε´νου, τρισο´λβιε, ἄματι τῶιδε. εἰπεῖν Φερσεφο´ναι σ’ ὅτι Βα´κχιος αὐτὸς ἔλυσε “Now you have died, and now you are born, three times blessed, on this very day. Say to Persephone that it is Bakchios himself that has redeemed you.” They express the same line of thought as the Olbian bone plates, only more explicitly.10 However, even if there can be no doubt that Orphic-Dionysiac cults and beliefs did exist in the 5th century in various places in the Greek world including Olbia, it does not follow that Herodotos has such beliefs in mind in the Skyles story. After all, Herodotos does not mention the Orphics explicitly, nor does he describe the Dionysiac mysteries Skyles is initiated into as some kind of preparation for a more blessed afterlife. His description of the ritual is, if anything, pictured as a wild bacchanal. The keyword is “madness” expressed in the Greek verb mainesthai occurring twice in chapter 79: in the description of the Scythians’ general prejudice towards Bacchic cult (οὐ γα´ρ φασι οἰκὸς εἶναι ἐξευρίσκειν τοῦτον, ὅστις μαίνεσθαι ἐνα´γει ἀνθρώπους) and in the Greeks’ gossip about Skyles’ initiation (νῦν οὗτος ὁ δαίμων καὶ τὸν ὑμε´τερον βασιλε´α λελα´βηκε, καὶ βακχευ´ει τε καὶ ὑπὸ τοῦ θεοῦ μαίνεται).11 In general Dionysos Bakcheios is associated with ecstatic rituals.12 Since Olbia was a colony of Miletos (as it is stated in the Skyles story: 4.78.3), it is natural to compare Skyles’ mysteries with the Milesian sacred law for the cult of Dionysos Bakcheios (LSAM 48, 276/5 BC): It speaks about a ritual called ōmophagion, i.e. “eating of raw meat”. Euripides’ tragedy Bakchai also mentions the ritual of eating raw meat (v. 139). It is furthermore reflected in Dionysos’ epicleses Ōmostēs (Alc. fr. 129.9 Voigt) and Ōmadios (Hymn.Orph. 30.5). The ritual is about leaving civilisation, killing with one’s bare hands and eating raw meat, a total regression to the animalistic stage. This regression is not an arrangement which serves only to give the participants a breath of wild air in the daily round.13 It is a rite of transgression in which the temporary bestiality is supposed to lead to a more sober and civilised life-style. In this analysis, the Bacchanals and the Orphic Dionysos mysteries are two sides of the same coin. Thus, Skyles’ ritual madness does not exclude that his initiation is about redemption in the afterlife.14 The link between Bacchantic fury and salvation is also suggested by the description in Euripides’ Kretes (fr. 79 Austin), even if there seems to be some kind of syncresis of Dionysiac and Kouretan rituals:15 ἁγνὸν δὲ βίον τείνων ἐξ οὗ Διὸς Ἰδαίου μυ´στης γενο´μην,

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George Hinge καὶ νυκτιπο´λου Ζαγρε´ως βροντὰς τοὺς ὠμοφα´γους δαίτας τελε´σας μητρί τ᾽ ὀρείῳ δᾷδας ἀνασχὼν καὶ κουρήτων βα´κχος ἐκλήθην ὁσιωθείς. “It is a pure life I have since I have become initiate of the Idaian Zeus and herdsman of nocturnal Zagreus [Dionysos]; after I have celebrated the dinners of raw meat and raised the torches for the Mother in the mountains with the Kouretes, I have been sanctified and have acquired the name Bacchant”

Orphic mythology and Herodotos’ vow of silence These ideas rest on a special Orphic mythology and cosmogony different from the classic one presented by Hesiodos in the Theogony.16 For a long time, our comprehension of the Orphic mythology relied mainly on late authors like Athenagoras and Damaskios – supplied with scattered allusions in Classical and Hellenistic authors. That this mythology existed in Classical times already is testified by the Derveni papyrus (carbonised ca. 330 BC), even if the extant parts do not mention Dionysos. So, we have to rely on references in the later sources anyway. The Latin author Firmicus Maternus gives this account of the Orphic Dionysos myth (Err.prof.rel. 6 = Orph. fr. 214 Kern; my paraphrase): The Cretan tyrant Jupiter [Zeus] had an illegitimate son, Liber [Dionysos]. He put him on his throne, though he was still a boy. His jealous wife Juno [Hera] had her servants, the Titans, attack him. They fooled him with rattles and a mirror, killed him, cut him and cooked the pieces. His sister Minerva [Athena] rescued the heart and brought it to their father, who got furious and killed the Titans. He made a gypsum statuette, in which he inserted Liber’s heart, and put it in a temple, where the boy’s pedagogue Silenus served as a priest. To mitigate their tyrant, the Cretans celebrate each year a festival and every second year mysteries, during which they revive Liber’s passions. They tear a living ox with their teeth and run about screaming and acting as if they were mad (fingunt animi furentis insaniam) in the woods, and they carry with them the basket in which Minerva hid Liber’s heart. Firmicus Maternus is a Christian author of the 4th century AD. The general outline of the myth is, however, much older.17 Thus, Euphorion (fr. 13 Powell) and Kallimachos (fr. 643 Pfeiffer) refer to the cooking of Dionysos. What makes Firmicus’ testimony interesting in this context is the fact that

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he associates the Dionysiac mania and ōmophagia with the specifically Orphic mythology about Dionysos’ death and resurrection. He calls the séances during which the passions of Dionysos are re-performed trieterica consecratio. A trietēris festival is commemorated in Classical sources too (e.g. Hymn.Hom. Dion. 1.11; Eur. Bacch. 133),18 and it is associated with the cult of Dionysos Bakcheios in the above-mentioned Milesian sacred law.19 Herodotos informs that the Gelonoi, living north of the Scythians, “celebrate a trietēris festival for Dionysos and are Bacchants” (4.108). Since he wants to emphasise that the Gelonoi are not nomadic Scythians, he may very well be thinking of the same sort of mysteries into which Skyles was initiated a few pages earlier; as we shall see, it is crucial that these Bacchanals are seen as a condicio sine qua non of agricultural civilisation. In Euripides’ Bakchai, Pentheus, who refuses to believe in Dionysos, is torn by wild Bacchants. It is a mythical staging of the trietēris ritual, with a real man as the victim instead of a bull or some other animal. The sparagmos, or “tearing” (Bacch. 735, 1127), was considered a reminiscence of the god’s own end.20 The participants are called Bakchoi or Bakchai; by submitting themselves to a (ritual) death and resurrection, they have become identical to the god himself. This conception is implied by the text of the gold leaves, some of which say (Graf & Johnston 2007, no 7; similarly nos 5 and 6; cf. also no 27): καὶ γὰρ ἐγὼν ὑμῶ γε´νο εὔχομαι ὄλβιο εἶναι. πονὰ δ’ ἀνταπε´{ι}τε ἔργω ἕνεκα οὔτι δικαων, εἴτε με Μορα ἐδαμα´σατο εἴτε Ἀστεροπῆτα κραυνῶν. νῦν δ’ ἱκε´τι κω παὶ ἁγνὴ Φεσεφο´νεαν ὥς με{ι} προ´φων πε´ψη ἕδρας ἐς εὐαγε´{ι}ω “For I can also boast that I belong to your blessed stock. I have paid the penalty for the unjust deeds, whether Fate or the Lightener have suppressed me. Now, I come as a supplicant to Persephone, in order that she sends me to the seats of the pure”. The myth of the murder of Dionysos was known to Herodotos. Even if he does not mention it explicitly, it is evident from his treatment of the Egyptian religion. As many others, he identified Dionysos with Osiris, who was killed by Seth and cut to pieces, but his mother Isis, identified with the Greek Demeter, brought the pieces together and embalmed him. Herodotos does not tell that myth either, but he alludes to it when he tells that Apollon / Horos, son of Dionysos / Osiris was the last divine king of the Egyptians, the successor of Typhon / Seth (2.144, 2.156). Moreover, he touches it on several occasions, but says that it would not be right (οὐκ ὅσιον) to go into details:

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2.48.3 (about phallagogy) “Why the private member is so huge and the only part of the body that moves is told in a sacred tale.” 2.61.1 (about grievances at the festival for Isis in Saïs) “It is not right for me to say over whom they are grieving.” 2.86.2 (about different mummification packages offered by the undertakers) “… and the most expensive one carries the name of him whose name it would not be right for me to mention in this context…” 2.170‑171 “There are also graves over him whose name it is not right to mention in this context, in Saïs in the sanctuary of Athena, behind the temple … At this lake, they make representations of his sufferings at night, what the Egyptians call mysteries. Even though I know more about it and know all the details, I shall keep my mouth.” Cf. also 2.47.2; 2.132.2. It is evident that it is Osiris that is killed, cut to pieces and revived except for the penis. Herodotos is not restrained by some Egyptian pledge of secrecy. The details about the death of Osiris were well-known in Egypt and often described in details in Egyptian literature. His reservations are due to the fact that he identifies the Egyptian rituals with the Greek mystery cults.21 Thus, it would have been an offence against Greek religious law to say straight out that the mysteries were about the death of Osiris alias Dionysos. The obligatory secrecy is characteristic of Greek mystery cults in general and of the Orphic movement in particular. The verse ἀείδω ξυνετοῖσι· θυ´ρας δ᾿ ἐπίθεσθε βε´βηλοι “I sing to those who know; the uninitiated must close the doors” (Orph. fr. 334 Kern; similarly frr. 245 and 247) is not only alluded to in Platon (Symp. 218b), but also quoted, it seems, in the Derveni papyrus (col. IV). In an Orphic context, Pindar says that he has many arrows in his quiver that will speak to those who understand, or they will need interpretation (Ol. 2.84‑86).22 If we accept that Skyles’ initiation was in fact an initiation into Orphic-Dionysiac mysteries, we have a good reason why Herodotos does not spell this point out either. He, too, writes for those who understand. My hypothesis that Herodotos has an Orphic-Dionysiac ritual in mind is supported by an important detail in his narrative. When Skyles was ready for the initiation, a most powerful omen (φα´σμα με´γιστον) occurred: “the god darted the thunderbolt upon his Olbian palace, and it burnt down; nevertheless, Skyles fulfilled his initiation” (4.79.1‑2). Yet, to be struck by lightening is at the same time considered a divine way of passing away, a shortcut to immortality, so to speak.23 The deifying death of Dionysos’ mother Semele was due to the thunderbolt of Zeus (Pind. Ol. 2.25‑26; Diod. 5.52.2). According to one tradition, Orpheus was killed by lightening as well (Anth.Pal. 7.617, Alkidamas, Odysseus 24). Herakles’ pyre was also hit by Zeus’ thunderbolt (Diod. 4.38.5). The Orphic gold leaves speak about the deceased being suppressed by the “Lightener” (Graf & Johnston 2007, nos 6 and 7 Ἀστεροπῆτα / Ἀστεροβλῆτα κεραυνῶν).24 I presume that the lightening omen is meant

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as a hint to the interpretation of the Skyles story – with the tragic contrast that Skyles is not deified but killed by his own after an unsuccessful escape to the Thracians on the other side of the Danube. A little later in the Scythian logos, we are told that the Thracian tribe of the Getai – who live in the very same region – believes the soul to be immortal. It is, I think, no coincidence that Herodotos tells us that in their disrespect for other gods than Salmoxis, the Getai shoot with their arrows against thunder and lightening (4.94.4). Admittedly, the Orphic character of the initiation of Skyles is not mentioned directly and unequivocally, but it is supported by accumulative circumstantial evidence. As I shall demonstrate in the following sections of the paper, it is also supported by references to other kinds of eschatological beliefs and practices.

Mother mysteries in disguise: Herakles and the demanding cave woman At the beginning of Book 4, Herodotos presents three different explanations of the origin of the Scythian people: a Scythian myth, a Pontic Greek myth and a rationalist version. In the Greek myth, Herakles plays a central role. Returning from Erytheia, Geryon’s “Red Island”, following a path around the disc of the earth, he finally comes to Hylaia in Scythia. A female monster steals his horses from him, and she refuses to give them back unless he goes in bed with her. She succeeds in holding him back in her cave long enough to bear three sons with him, the eponym forefathers of the Scythians, Agathyrsoi and Gelonoi. The journey to Erytheia is a kind of katabasis, a journey to the Underworld: Geryon may be seen as a variant of Hades. He is three-headed like Kerberos (cf. Hes. Theog. 287), and just like Herakles must fetch the dog of Hades on a later occasion, so he kills Geryon’s dog Orthos. Of the canonical twelve labours of Herakles, the Geryonic cattle count as number ten, the apples of the Hesperids as number eleven, and Kerberos as number twelve,25 and they are in a sense variants of the same story. The classic presentation of the Geryon story was the Geryoneid of Stesichoros, to which Herodotos possibly alludes in 4.8.1;26 Stesichoros locates Erytheia opposite the river of Tartessos in Spain (fr. 184 Davies) and relates that Herakles travelled in the cup of Helios (fr. S17 Davies).27 It is understandable that the West where the sun sets and “dies” is at the same time the corner of the earth where one would locate the entrance to the land of the dead. The Pontic Greek myth about Herakles and the monstrous cave woman is only one among many stories about the hindrances confronting the hero on his return with the kine of Geryon. Other versions have other female monsters with whom Herakles has to sleep to get home with the cattle: e.g. Skylla (Sch. Lykophron Alex. 46) and Kelto / Keltine / Galate (Parth. Myth. 30; Diod. 5.24).28 In most versions, Herakles travels through Italy (the name of which was said to derive from this very story29). What is more, Ephoros says that the

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entrance to Hades goes through the Lake Avernus near Cumae (cf. also Verg. Aen. Book 6), and the Kimmerians have an oracle there (FGrH 70 F 134). In the eleventh song of the Odyssey, Odysseus and his men come to the borders of the Okeanos. Here is, we are told, the people and city of the Kimmerians (Od. 11.14).30 Without doubt, Herodotos and all contemporary readers were familiar with these verses. When immediately after the Herakles story, in the third myth of origin, Herodotos tells that the Kimmerians were the aboriginal population in Scythia before the Scythians, the reader will get his point. According to the mythical geography – which Herodotos does not accept but may use for his purpose – if you go west to the Okeanos and follow the stream with the sun, you will eventually come to Scythia and Hylaia. The last hero with whom Odysseus speaks in the Nekyia is precisely Herakles (vv. 601‑626) – or rather “his image – he was himself among the immortal gods” (εἴδωλον· αὐτὸς δὲ μετ᾽ ἀθανα´τοισι θεοῖσι). Since the idea that the person was his soul conflicts with the opening of the Iliad (1.3‑4), the passage was considered an interpolation already in Antiquity.31 The verses may have been used by Orphic itinerant preachers in Classical times already. At any rate, the mention of Herakles, the Kimmerians and the Far West cannot but evoke associations with contemporary eschatological beliefs. Herakles has in fact a prominent position in the Orphic cosmogonies. According to the summaries given in Athenagoras and Damaskios, in the beginning, there was water and mud, but after that a winged three-headed snake was born; he was called Time (Χρο´νος) or Herakles (= Orph. frr. 54 and 57 Kern). M.L. West argues that Herakles’ place in the cosmogonic tradition is influenced by a stoic allegoric interpretation of the Herakles myth, according to which Herakles’ cremation on mount Oita was identified with the ekpyrōsis (cf. Seneca Ben. 4.8.1).32 Nevertheless, it may still have some foundation in older cosmogonic beliefs. In Hesiodos’s Theogony (vv. 270‑336), Geryon is the great-nephew of a lady called Echidna, who is half woman and half snake just like the monster of the myth told in Herodotos. Herodotos even calls her an echidna; since the border between appellatives and proper names is fluent, the reader (and writer) would naturally identify the two. Hesiod’s Echidna lives together with Typhon – the Titan that murdered Dionysos according to Orphic mythology. Hesiod informs that they had three children together: Orthos, the dog of Geryon, Kerberos, the dog of Hades, and the Hydra, all monsters with whom Herakles had to fight. In the Italic version of the cattle myth, Herakles does not encounter a goddess, but a male monster called Cacus, who lives on the Aventine (Verg. Aen. 8.185‑275); Cacus and Typhon are probably doublets of Geryon.33 Ophion – like Pherekydes’ Ophioneus an alter ego of Typhon – started a war against Zeus at Tartessos, i.e. at the same scene as Herakles’ battle against Geryon (Sch. Hom. Il. 8.479 Dindorf). The Geryon myth has an unmistakable parallel in the Vedic story about the hero Trita Āptya who killed the three-headed Viśvarūpa and stole his cattle (RV 10.8, 10.48), and in the Avestic story about Thraētaona who killed

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the three-headed Aži Dahāka and obtained his two wives (Yt. 5.34), and it probably goes back to a common Indo-European myth.34 The Typhon myth, on the other hand, has a striking parallel in the Hittite illuyankas myth. Since Typhon is in the Greek tradition located in a cave in Kilikia (Hom. Il. 2.783; Hes. Theog. 304; Pind., fr. 93 Snell-Maehler), the myth is probably borrowed from Anatolia.35 Both myths are cosmological dramas about the death and rebirth of the world and the change of seasons. It may have implied some eschatology too, the life of man and the life of the world being equated. Even though the core of the Geryon myth is most likely derived from a Proto-Indo-European model, there can be no doubt that the Greek variant was heavily influenced by Near Eastern mythology as well. We have already seen that Typhon was identified with the Egyptian Seth. Similarly Herakles was recognised as the Phoenician god Melqart, who had an important temple at Gibraltar; the Greek name “Pillars of Herakles” is probably due to Phoenician influence. Thus, the Geryon myth, which takes place just outside of Gibraltar, is possibly the result of a combination of Greek and Phoenician myths. Herakles’ apotheosis by the way of the pyre has parallels both in Tyros and Kilikia.36 Herodotos is aware of these attempts of syncretism, even if he considers it wiser to distinguish the god Herakles from the hero Herakles (2.43‑45). It is highly probable that Herakles’ labours were, or could be, interpreted cosmologically in Classical times already, even if we do not know if he was exploited by Orphic cosmogonies at that time, and it is highly probable that the Geryon myth would evoke cosmological associations in the readers of Herodotos’ text, especially when it is combined with a travel along the Okeanos and an encounter with a chthonic echidna. When the Pontic Greeks derive the Scythian tribes from a snake-legged chthonic goddess, it is of course a way of expressing their autochthonous character (compare the snake-legged Erichthonios ruling autochthonous Athens). However, I shall argue that the Hylaian goddess is a variant of the Great Mother, and so their encounter may be analysed as a cosmological event. At the same time, it may be the mythical model of an initiation: Herakles follows the route of the Sun to the entrance of the Underworld where he kills the monster Geryon and obtains his cattle. In Hylaia he meets another obstacle, a chthonic goddess and begets with her the people of the Scythians. In the myth, we are told that the land was empty, but Herodotos soon informs that it was in fact inhabited by the Kimmerians. It is interesting that the late lexicographer Hesychios quotes Kimmeris thea, “the Kimmerian goddess”, as a name for the Mother of Gods, possibly a quotation from a classical tragedy.37 Furthermore, the readers of Herodotos would have known that after his return to Greece with the cattle of Geryon, Herakles was initiated into the Eleusinian mysteries,38 before, as his last labour, he went down to Hades via the Acherusian Promontory39 on the south shore of the Black Sea to fetch Kerberos, and he was finally deified by the way of the pyre on Mount Oita. Thus, the life story of Herakles follows the pattern of the initiate. Just like the struggle

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with Geryon corresponds to the collection of Kerberos, Herakles’ delay in the cave of the Kimmerian goddess is an obvious doublet or rather anticipation of his initiation into Demeter’s mysteries in Eleusis. However, these general expectations of the audience are not confirmed until chapter 76, where the cult of Meter is introduced into Hylaia and the observant reader is granted a key to a deeper understanding of the echidna myth.

Anacharsis’ devotion to Meter: chthonic mysteries in Scythian Hylaia The Skyles story is preceded by a story about the Scythian prince Anacharsis (4.76). He is in Greek literature the prototype of the wise savage travelling in Greece and observing the alien culture. Under his name, a number of so-called apophthegms are transmitted which emphasise the absurdities of Greek civilisation. Herodotos informs that on his return from Greece, Anacharsis landed on the peninsula of Kyzikos and saw a procession for the Mother of Gods, or Mētēr tōn Theōn. He promises the goddess that he will sacrifice to her in the way of the Kyzikenes if he returns safe and sound. Thus, when he lands on the north shore, he arranges a festival of Meter in Hylaia. Unfortunately, a Scythian sees it and reports it to the Scythian King Saulios, who goes to the location and immediately shoots Anacharsis with his bow. So far, the story follows the same pattern as the Skyles story. The cult of the Mother of Gods seems to be referred to in a Greek letter written on a small potsherd found in Olbia. It was originally part of a Samian vessel produced ca. 550‑530 BC. The inscription (= SEG XLII, 710) consists of 12 lines of which the left and right margins are not legible anymore, and the text is therefore difficult to read. Nevertheless, the interpretation of the lines 6‑8 is quite certain:40 …]ληι ἐνθεῦθεν ἐς τὴν Ὑλαί[ην … … ] αὖτις οἱ βωμοὶ βεβλαμμε´νο[ι … … Μ]ητρὸς θεῶν καὶ Βορυσθε´(νεω) καὶ Ἡρακλ[ῆος … “from there to Hylaia … once more the altars were destroyed … of the Mother of the Gods, Borysthenes and Herakles”. The letters have a quite archaic appearance, pointing to a date in the 6th century BC.41 The cult is attested in another inscription from Olbia as well (= Dubois 1996, no 81, 5th century BC): [Μητρὶ Θε]ῶν μεδεο´σ[ηι] Ὑλαί[ης]. These two inscriptions attest the presence of Meter in the same spot and at the same date as Anacharsis’ ritual in Herodotos’ narrative. It is interesting that Hylaia, which is dedicated to the cult of Meter, is also the place where Herakles meets the female monster. The fact that the inscription mentions altars for Meter and Herakles in the same breath supports the identification of the Hylaian Meter and Herakles’ chthonic mistress.

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The goddess introduced by Anacharsis from Kyzikos is the Phrygian Kybele (Kyzikos is close to Archaic Phrygia). She was introduced into Greece in the 6th century BC, and mysteries were performed in her name. The mysteries of Dionysos, Demeter and Kybele are of course not identical. Both the mythologies and rites differ. There are, however, important analogies and a tendency to syncretism, especially, it seems, in 5th-century Orphism.42 This approach is apparent in other Classical authors: Pindar’s Second Dithyramb puts Kybele in connection with Dionysos (fr. 70b.6‑11 Snell-Maehler). In the quoted fragment of the tragedy Kretes (fr. 79 Austin), Euripides unites mysteries of Meter and Dionysos (cf. also Eur. Bacch. 72‑82; Aesch. fr. 57 Radt). In the Cretan mysteries, the Mother of Gods plays a central role, and G. Pugliese Carratelli speaks about a more primitive version of the Dionysiac mysteries than the Orphic-Pythagorean ones represented by the South Italian gold leaves (cf. also IC 1(xxiii).3, Phaistos, 2nd century BC). On one of the gold leaves from Thurioi (Graf & Johnston 2007, no 4), we read names like Pammater, Kybeleia and Demeter. Pseudo-Apollodoros (Bibl. 3.5.1) relates that after having being afflicted with madness by jealous Hera, Dionysos wandered about in Egypt and Syria, but eventually came to Phrygia and was purified by Rheia and initiated into the rituals (τὰς τελετὰς ἐκμαθών).43 A similar version is ascribed to the epic poet Eumelos of the 6th century BC (fr. 11 Bernabé).44 The story is a close parallel to the purification and initiation of Herakles in Eleusis. Dionysos goes to Hades, too, to fetch his mortal mother Semele and make her an Olympian goddess (Hes. Theog. 940‑2; Apollod. Bibl. 3.5.3; Diod. 4.25.4).45 In the Eleusinian mysteries, the initiands met Persephone in a dark room, and they were thereby prepared for death (even though there were apparently no ideas about metempsychosis in Eleusis).46 Thus, mythical and ritual katabaseis seem to have played an important role in the different mother cults, and Herodotos’ audience would readily have understood the Hylaian cult in the framework of Eleusinian and related rituals. Herodotos offers a clue to the eschatological interpretation of Hylaia in chapter 56, in the catalogue of rivers, where he remarks that it lies near the “Achillean Race-Course”, and this observation is repeated in the Anacharsis story, in case the reader should have missed the point. He does not go into explaining why a locality was named after Achilleus on the north shore of the Black Sea. It was, however, well-known to any contemporary reader that Achilleus was worshipped as some sort of death god in Scythia.47 The small island of Leuke east of the mouth of the Danube was considered the place to which Thetis took his mortal remains (as related in the epos Aithiopis, 7th century BC48). Pindar presupposes that his audience knows the island, when he says “Achilleus (rules) the bright island in the Euxine Sea” (Nem. 4.49‑50 ἐν δ᾿ Εὐξείνῳ πελα´γει φαεννὰν Ἀχιλεὺς νᾶσον). In the “Orphic” victory ode, Pindar says that Achilleus was brought to “the Isle of the Blest” (Ol. 2.71‑80 μακα´ρων νᾶσον). In other words, the Isle of the Blest and the White Island could be considered one and the same locality.49 If Alkaios fr. 354 Voigt is au-

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thentic, Achilleus was known as “the god of Scythia” already ca. 600 BC.50 So, when Herodotos makes this close association of Hylaia and the posthumous Achilleus, his audience might have read a reference to the specific character of the location. Together with the juxtaposition of the stories of Anacharsis and Skyles, it suggests that the Hylaian goddess was the patroness of chthonic mysteries not unlike those of Meter and Demeter.

Pythagorean sages in Scythia and beyond: Aristeas, Abaris, and Salmoxis Meter played an important role among the Pythagoreans too. According to Timaios, Pythagoras’ house was built into a temple for Demeter (FGrH 566 F 131). Hermippos (fr. 20 Wehrli) informs that Pythagoras built himself a subterranean chamber and hid for a time in it; he told his mother to write down what was going on on the surface, so when he returned and was able to know all that, people thought he was some kind of psychic (θεῖο´ν τινα). W. Burkert is without doubt right when he proposes that “mother” stands for the goddess Meter in a more orthodox tradition and the story refers to a ritual katabasis (cf. also Hieronymos fr. 42 Wehrli).51 L. Zhmud, who aims at a more rationalist and less religious Pythagoras, of course rejects this evidence.52 On the other hand, Herodotos puts Pythagoreanism on the same footing as Orphism (2.81). Even though the doctrines and especially the myths must have differed, they were part of the same intellectual milieu, sharing concepts of the soul and the bios of the initiate.53 We have already mentioned the bone tablets from Olbia which associate Dionysos and Orphism. Another bone tablet mentions Apollon and Meter in the midst of mythical elaborations on the number seven (SEG XXXVI, 694 = Dubois 1996, no 93, 550‑525 BC).54 The bone tablet, which may be as old as the founding of Pythagoras’ school in Italy or even older, illustrates the character of the archaic intellectual milieu out of which Pythagoreanism eventually arose. The opposition between an Apollinian Pythagoreanism and a Dionysian Orphism is, at any rate, anachronistic. The cults of Apollon and Dionysos do not exclude one another. In the Orphic hymns, Dionysos is called Paian (52.10) and Apollon Bakchios (34.7 v.l.). Dionysos’ grave was shown to the tourists in Delphi, and it was said that the famous tripod of Apollon contained his remains (e.g. Plut. De Is. et Os. 365a).55 We have already seen that what I call the eschatological string of Book 4 is anticipated in the Egyptian logos. It contains several references to the Osiris myth, which is in Herodotos’ mind identical to the Orphic Dionysos myth, and, as we shall see, the Ethiopian excursus illustrates the perfect Orphic bios. Furthermore, Herodotos claims that Greek ideas about metempsychosis are derived from an Egyptian model (2.123). He refuses to tell the names of the persons sharing them, but there can be no doubt that a contemporary reader would have thought of Pythagoras and Empedokles at first. Between the Egyptian and Scythian logoi, Herodotos treats the internal politics of the Persian Empire. A considerable part is taken up by the story about

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the Samian tyrant Polykrates (3.39‑60, 120‑128, 139‑149). One wonders if Herodotos expects his readers to know that Pythagoras lived on Samos during the reign of Polykrates and went on his study tour in Egypt with a letter of recommendation from the tyrant himself.56 Herodotos does not, however, stress the point, but it is not at all impossible in the general framework. At any rate, it is supported by the fact that shortly after the death of Polykrates – and explicitly in connexion with the Polykrates affair – the Krotonian Demokedes enters the scene (3.131‑137). Kroton is the city where Pythagoreanism prevailed, and we know from other sources that the early Pythagoreans assembled in the house of Demokedes’ father-in-law Milon.57 In Herodotos we are told that Demokedes becomes Dareios’ court physician, but escapes back to Southern Italy and marries Milon’s daughter. In accordance with his general reticence in these matters, Herodotos says nothing about Milon’s philosophical interests; he is only described as the palaistēs “wrestler” (3.137.5).58 However, Herodotos must have been well-informed in these matters since his own biography was connected closely with both Samos and Southern Italy: Being expelled by Lygdamis, he lived for some time as an exile on Samos,59 and later on he participated in the colony of Thurioi, which was founded in 444 BC on the location of the former Sybaris destroyed in the war with Kroton in 511 BC (cf. Hdt. 5.44‑45). In Book 4, after the myth of Herakles, Herodotos gives a third rationalist version of where the Scythian people originated, namely out of a series of migrations starting in Central Asia (4.13‑15). His main source is the epic Arimaspeia by Aristeas of Prokonnesos (7th century BC). He claimed to have travelled to the tribe of the Issedonians possessed by Apollon (φοιβο´λαμπτος γενο´μενος), i.e. probably in some sort of soul journey;60 he lay dead, disappeared and returned after six years (ἑβδο´μῳ ἔτεϊ). Herodotos adds that Aristeas showed up in Metapontion 240 years later and told the locals that he had followed Apollon in the shape of a raven. He disappeared once more, and the Metapontines erected a statue of him next to the altar of Apollon (4.15). Since Metapontion is the city to which Pythagoras withdraws after a crisis in Kroton, this story must belong to the Pythagorean tradition. Herodotos continues his account with an outline of the geography of the Scythian territory, from the Black Sea to the Issedonians (4.16‑31). He is probably following the scheme laid out by Aristeas’ epic.61 Herodotos stresses at the outset (with reference to Aristeas) and at the end of this outline that nobody can say anything about what is lying further north. Then, he starts to argue against the idea of the so-called Hyperboreans (4.32‑36.1). He speaks about the mythical Hyperborean delegations to Delos and ends with the words: “I will not tell the story told about Abaris, and say how he carried his arrow all around the world without eating anything” (4.36).62 Later sources relate how Abaris flew to Greece on an arrow given to him by Apollon (Herakleides Pontikos, fr. 51c Wehrli), and how he meets Pythagoras in Southern Italy and recognises him as the Hyperborean Apollon (Iambl. VP 19.90‑91; Porph. VP 28). I find it quite obvious that Herodotos alludes to the same story,63 but

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deliberately chooses not to tell it explicitly. The loud aposiopesis suffices to bring the point to the mind of his readers. After having laid out the Scythian origin and geography with reference to two persons who were most likely central in Pythagorean mythology because they demonstrated Apollon’s acknowledge of the master’s authority, Herodotos continues with an excursus in which he criticises the traditional representation of the map of the world and especially the concept of the Okeanos, the World-Stream (4.36.2‑45, cf. also 3.115). It is ironical, but hardly a coincidence, that he undermines the Geryon myth when he expresses his doubts of the possibility of sailing north of Europe. The two tales are tied together in the negation. The first time Pythagoras’ name is mentioned explicitly is in chapter 95. In an excursus on Dareios’ journey through Thrace, Herodotos speaks about the Getai and their belief in an immortal soul; after death one comes to the god Salmoxis, and therefore the Getai show an extreme carelessness with their lives.64 Herodotos ascribes to the local Greeks a down-to-earth explanation of the Getan religion: Salmoxis was earlier the slave of Pythagoras on Samos, but he was freed and returned to Thrace. He taught his compatriots that they would not die, but come to another place and live there happy forever after. He convinced them about the truth of this doctrine by building a subterranean chamber to himself and hiding in it for three years. It is pretty much the same story as the one told about Pythagoras. As W. Burkert points out, Hermippos has not simply duplicated Herodotos’ version, for the detail about the “mother” does not occur there.65 Even though Herodotos is sceptic about this version (he prefers a much higher date for Salmoxis), by telling it, he gives a useful hint to the interpretation of the Scythian logos. The suppressed allusions are solved. The stories of Skyles and Salmoxis are obviously connected in the narrative of Herodotos. The ritual death practised by Salmoxis corresponds to the physical death suffered by Skyles. The red thread is the border between the civilised world and the steppes and between new and old religion. Herodotos informs that the bridge of Dareios over the Hellespont leads directly to the Dionysos temple in Byzantion (4.87), and Thrace is in a sense a Dionysiac territory. The crossing of streams is a familiar motif in eschatological myths,66 and the bridge itself is an obvious symbol of transition and initiation (though it would be an over-interpretation to suggest that the Samian nationality of its architect is meant as an indication of its Pythagorean character). Thus, a bridge over the river of Kephisos plays a central role in the Eleusianian ritual.67 Transgressing the Danube by another bridge, Dareios comes into a world that is again completely different; it resembles a katabasis into some kind of Underworld where the enemy is just as intangible as the shadows of Hades and the army has but a narrow escape. Dareios’ expedition follows an axis which is anticipated by Anacharsis returning from Kyzikos to Hylaia and Aristeas journeying from Kyzikos to beyond the Scythian territory. Immediately after the stories of Anacharsis and Skyles, Herodotos speaks about two monumen-

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tal cauldrons put up by the Scythian Ariantas and the Spartan Pausanias in Exampaios and at the Bosporos respectively (4.81).

The meaning of life according to Herodotos I do not assert that Herodotos followed a single specific doctrine and his text should be regarded as some kind of sacred text of a religious society. He alludes indiscriminately to the polymorph mass of eschatological “schools” prevailing in the 5th century BC in order to stress a more general point in his narrative. Herodotos states at the beginning of the Egyptian logos that he is generally reluctant towards speaking about “divine matters” (τὰ θεῖα τῶν ἀπηγημα´των) because “all people have the same knowledge about them” (2.3.3, similarly 2.65.2). However, this does not mean that he is an atheist.68 He often refers to divine causes, e.g. when the Demeter sanctuary in Plataiai is free from corpses of Persian soldiers because the goddess will not have them on her soil after they have burnt her temple in Eleusis (9.65.2). He says he was initiated into the Samothrakian mysteries (2.51.4), and he was probably initiated into the Orphic-Dionysiac mysteries as well since he repeatedly refers to some vow of silence. He was certainly sympathetic towards the Pythagorean doctrine, calling Pythagoras “not the worst sage among the Greeks” (4.94.2 Ἑλλήνων οὐ τῷ ἀσθενεστα´τῳ σοφιστῇ). It would, on the other hand, be wrong to see the Histories as a Holy Scripture of an Orphic-Pythagorean sect. Herodotos does quote the story about Salmoxis’ hide in the subterranean chamber, which was certainly meant as a criticism not only of the local Getan religion, but also of Pythagoras’ ritual katabasis, even if he rejects this version.69 He seems to accept the fantastic story of Aristeas’ second appearance in Metapontion, but he refuses to relate the Abaris story. Herodotos’ rationalism means that he cannot rely on hearsay that has not been substantiated by other evidence; but he does not reject the existence of divine causes or a higher justice. In the Geryon myth, Herakles is the prototype of the nomadic herdsman. Sitting in his chariot, he drives the cattle on the outskirts of the world, just like the nomadic Scythians are driving their cattle on the northern steppes with their horses and carriages. In the case of Herakles, however, the status as a lawless cattle thief is only a phase, a rite of liminality, which will eventually lead to civilisation (by the way of his initiation into the mysteries) and apotheosis. His Scythian offspring sticks in this phase,70 and when Skyles is going through the initiation, which is supposed to introduce him into civilisation, he is consequently killed by his compatriots. The way Herodotos presents the Scythian religion, it is characterised by the absence of the civilising agricultural gods Demeter and Dionysos, whereas dreadful Ares is the most important god (4.59‑62). The opposition to the agricultural religion peaks in the stories about Anacharsis and Skyles, who practise the rituals of Meter and Dionysos respectively and are killed for this very reason. On the other hand, the only cults that Herodotos mentions in the case of the Greek colonists in Olbia are

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the cults of Demeter (4.53.6) and Dionysos (4.79). This choice is not arbitrary: The two cults teach in their mysteries the meaning of civilisation, why it makes sense to cultivate earth and not to wander about like wild beasts eating the fruits of trees or each other. According to Euripides (Bacch. 274‑285), Demeter and Dionysos were the two first gods of man, the goddess of the dry food and the god of the anaesthetic liquor respectively. It was probably part of the Athenian propaganda of the 5th century BC that agriculture arose in Attica as a result of Demeter’s mysteries in Eleusis (cf. Xen. Hell. 6.3.6, Isoc. Paneg. 28‑29). In the eyes of the Athenians, the mysteries meant the “Beendigung des Urkannibalismus”.71 Thus, by hindering the introduction of the cults of Meter and Dionysos, the Scythians resist to give up their primitive economy based on meat and milk. In the third book, Herodotos speaks about the magic table of the Sun, which provides the people of the Ethiopians with meat without the unpleasant sacrifice of blood (3.18). J.-P. Vernant compares it to the story about the cattle of the Sun in the Odyssey (12.260‑402):72 On the return from Hades and the island of Kirke, Odysseus lands on the island of the Sun. In spite of several warnings, his men decide to sacrifice the cattle and eat the meat. It is the ultimate sacrilege. Even after it has been roasted, the meat is still raw, the hides are wandering about and the slaughtered animals are still mooing. It is the perfect example of ōmophagia.73 It is likely that Herodotos presupposes that his readers are familiar with this story of the Odyssey. The army that Kambyses sends against the Ethiopians ends up starving and resorts to cannibalism, a sacrilege comparable to that of Odysseus’ men (3.25.6). In other words, the Ethiopian excursus, which is a natural prolongation of the Egyptian logos, offers an example of the Orphic bios, according to which people eat without having to slay other creatures.74 Whereas the mythical Hyperboreans occupied an idealistic place comparable to that of the Ethiopians,75 the Scythians were not at all sacred: They sacrifice by strangulation (4.60‑61), i.e. they eat the meat with the blood.76 The Ethiopians lived long, and when they died, their corpses did not putrefy (3.24). On the other hand, murder was the daily order among the Scythians and the neighbouring tribes. In the northern Scythian territory, we hear about the Neuroi, who were werewolves (4.105.2), and the Androphagoi, who were cannibals (4.106). The Issedonians east of the Scythians slaughter and cook their fathers when they die (4.26). Similar rites are ascribed to the Indian Kallatians (3.38.4) and Padaians (3.99) who are described as nomads. Thus, the nomadic cuisine was quite the opposite of the Orphic-Pythagorean diet.77 Already in the first book, immediately before the excursus on Egypt, we hear about the Central Asiatic Massagetai, who were ascribed to the Scythians by some (but not by Herodotos): They considered it the most blessed lot (ὀλβιώτατα) to be cooked when one died, whereas those who died by illness were buried, which was considered a misfortune (1.216). The division of the deceased into blessed and unfortunate ones sounds like a perversion of the teachings of the

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Orphics. The parallelism may be even more outspoken if one conjectures that the Orphic initiate was the victim of a ritual cannibalistic act after the model of Dionysos himself. The Scythians are notorious milk drinkers. Since Herodotos dedicates the first chapters of the Scythian logos to the fabrication of mare milk, this peculiar diet must be, in his eyes, an important sign of their economy (the same diet is attributed to the Scythians in Hes. fr. 150.15 Merkelbach-West, and Hipp. Aer. 18).78 The Massagetai are called galaktopotai, “milk-drinkers” (1.216.3). The nomadic Libyans live on meat and drink milk (4.186.1). The Kyklops is since the Odyssey the emblem of the nomad: He does not cultivate the earth, but eats meat, milk and cheese and is a dreaded cannibal. At first sight, we are told that the Kyklops “did not look like a man eating bread”.79 Drinking milk is of course not the same as being a brutal murderer. The mare-milking and milk-consuming Abioi of the Iliad are the most just of men (Il. 13.5). Herodotos informs that the Ethiopians eat boiled meat and drink milk (3.24.2), and they despise the consumption of grain (3.22.4). It just means that you do not belong to the agricultural urbanised civilisation. To quote Aristotles, a person living outside of a polis is either worse or better than man (Pol. 1253a). The Ethiopians are certainly better (since their consumption of meat does not imply the death of another being) and the Kyklops certainly worse. In Euripides’ satyr play Kyklops, the one-eyed giants are called “nomads” (v. 120);80 they do not sow “Demeter’s ear of corn” or drink “Bromios’ drink, the juice of the grape” (vv. 121, 123); the Kyklops’ shelter is empty of Bacchants (Cyc. 63‑75), but he is finally “defeated by Bakchos” (Cyc. 446, 454, 521, 575), and the choir ends in a laudation of Dionysos (Cyc. 709). We have no indications that Herodotos knew this satyr play, and it is probably too late.81 Yet, they share the same concept of civilisation. The space of the Kyklops is called an erēmia (Cyc. 22, 116, 447, 622). The phrase Skythōn erēmia, which is the name of the Scythian steppes in Hippokrates (Aer. 18), becomes proverbial as a designation of the conditions of primitive man (since Ar. Ach. 704; it is popular with Imperial and Byzantine authors). In Herodotos, the inner space of the Scythians is not described as deserted, but the adjective erēmos usually characterises the frontier regions of Scythia (4.17.2, 4.18.2, 4.18.3, 4.20.2, 4.22.1, 4.53.4, 4.123.2, 4.124.1, 4.125.5, 4.127.2).82 Thus, Herodotos transposes the traditional scheme of a polis and an uninhabited periphery centre to the Black Sea area. It has itself a centre inhabited and cultivated by Greeks or semi-Greeks and a desolate periphery into which the Scythians can choose to recede, and where the graves of their ancestors are located (4.53.4, 4.127.2‑3).83 In the Dionysiac cult, as we have seen, unrestrained rituals were performed on mountain tops and in other desolate places, where victims were torn and eaten raw. When Euripides speaks about “the raw-eating mountain-walking Kyklops” (Tro. 436), the Kyklops becomes some kind of uninitiated, self-appointed Bacchant, who cannot escape the lunacy. Similarly, the Skythōn erēmia is represented as a liminal space inhabited by uncivilised non-initiates.

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Greek shamanism and Scythian criticism of religion According to Herodotos, the Scythians criticise the Dionysiac cult of the Greeks because they think it is wrong to invent a god that drives people mad. This sobriety of Scythian religion is in sharp conflict with the ecstatic shamanism which modern scholarship ascribes to the Scythians and considers an important source of inspiration for Greek Pythagoreanism and Orphism. This line of thought is represented by K. Meuli, E.R. Dodds, W. Burkert and M.L. West.84 In spite of these awe-inspiring names, some opposition has been uttered, especially by J.N. Bremmer and L. Zhmud.85 The hypothesis of a Scythian shamanism rests on two pieces of information found in Herodotos: A) The Scythians had a certain type of transgendered soothsayers called Enarees (1.105.4; 4.67.2). B) Scythian funerals involved a purification ceremony, during which cannabis seeds were burnt in tents and caused great satisfaction in the participants (4.73‑75). On the basis of Central Asiatic and American parallels, Meuli concluded that the Scythians had cross-dressing shamans, who used hallucinating drugs to be able to leave their bodies and lead the souls of the dead safely to the Underworld. However, Herodotos does not describe the Enarees as shamans; they are soothsayers who read the future in lime bark, but we are told of no soul journeys at all (similarly in Hipp. Aer. 18). It is true that shamans in some cultures dress and live like the opposite sex, but it does not necessarily mean that any transgendered magician is also a shaman. Moreover, the association of the Enarees with the marijuana tents is without any basis in the text of Herodotos. He says they were used for purification instead of baths, and it is evident that he intends a contrast between Greek water and Scythian fire as a means of purification. Tents with remains of cannabis have been excavated in a kurgan in Pazyryk in Central Asia, but there is nothing that links them to shamanism.86 On the other hand, there is nothing that excludes a shamanistic interpretation either. Even though the hallucinating effect of hemp seeds is rather limited, it may have served some purpose that had to do with the soul of the deceased being led safely to the hereafter. The phenomena of soul journey and bilocation are in Greek literature frequently associated with the distant north.87 As we have seen, Aristeas travels to a people living east of the Scythians, and Abaris comes from a country beyond the north wind. Similarly, according to Bakchylides (3.57‑60), Kroisos was rescued from the pyre and moved to the Hyperboreans. It is told that Stesichoros got the impetus for his Palinody, which put Helena in Egypt and her eidōlon in Troy, from Leonymos of Kroton(!), who had visited the island of Leuke and talked with Helen’s ghost (Konon FGrH 26 F 1, XVIII; Paus. 3.19.11‑13). This preference for the north may, however, reflect a fundamental

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geographical scheme in Greek thought which is independent of the ethnographical realities. M. Eliade maintains that that classic shamanism originated in Central Asia under the influence of Buddhism.88 In that case it is rather difficult to imagine that the Greeks were influenced by Scythian shamanism in the 7th or 8th centuries BC already. K. Dowden argues that the Greek practice of soul journey was borrowed directly from some previous stage of the ecstatic practices which eventually led to Buddhism.89 The evidence for contacts between India and Greece in this early period is, however, virtually non-existent.90 On the other hand, the Scythians may in fact have shared the same beliefs about the immortality of the soul and its capability of leaving the body. Scythians and Indians belonged to the same branch of the Indo-European family, and they were in the first centuries of the 1st millennium BC not so different linguistically and culturally as to exclude an exchange of ideas. Thus, before we make Aristeas go all the way to India to be apprenticed to a former incarnation of Buddha, we should perhaps trace the inspiration to the Scythians, who ca. 700 BC crossed the Caucasus and advanced along the northern coast of Asia Minor (the so-called “Kimmerians”).91 Early ecstatic practices may have been borrowed from India to the neighbouring Sakas (the eastern branch of the Scythians) in Baktria and then introduced to the Greeks by the Pontic Scythians; after all, the steppe nomads were extremely mobile. Another possibility is that the Scythians inherited a more primitive stage of ecstatic practices which was borrowed to the Greeks and later developed into shamanism stricto sensu under the influence of Buddhism. It is, however, mere conjecture. Yet, Eliade’s approach is extremely Asiocentric. Even though “classical” Central Asiatic shamanism may have developed under the influence of Buddhism, shamanistic practices are recorded in various Native American cultures as well independently (it seems) of the Eurasian shamanism. From a methodological point of view, it is problematic to reconstruct the beliefs of the Proto-Indo-Europeans, and one cannot say how much of this goes back to the Neolithic period. It seems safe to assume that they believed in a soul and in some kind of afterlife and even the possibility of escaping death.92 Yet, the idea about the soul journeying outside the body momentarily may have developed independently in India and the Balkans. Herodotos does not give any reason at all for assuming that the Scythians themselves practised any proto-shamanistic ecstatic rituals. As we have seen, he may have had his own motives for suppressing such beliefs and offering instead a non-spiritualistic, phenomenological description of the Scythian cult. Ideas about an afterlife are attested by the Scythian burial customs. According to Herodotos, when a Scythian king died, he was buried in a large tumulus together with one of his wives, fifty servants and fifty horses (4.72). The described rituals agree tremendously well with the archaeological record; the so-called kurgan graves are scattered all over the area dominated by the Scythians.93 We have seen that the Getai, the neighbours of the Scythians,

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had ideas about an immortal soul and aspired to death, and similar beliefs and practices are ascribed to the Celts (Diod. 5.28.6; Caes. BGall. 6.14.5). The Scythians may very well have thought of the royal funerals in the same way. Herodotos informs that the Scythians had the deceased transported around in forty days before he was buried (4.73.1). This custom becomes a macabre contrast to the Orphic-Pythagorean doctrine, which must have been in the minds of the contemporary reader after he has read (or heard) the Egyptian logos and the first part of the Scythian logos. Instead of a soul journey, we have a bizarre body journey. The rich grave gifts and the tour of the dead body emphasise the material continuity, but nothing is said about the soul of the dead. In Herodotos’ narrative, the harsh criticism of ecstatic religion and the plain perversion of Orphic beliefs characterise the Scythians as an uncivilised people beyond good and evil. They have gods, it is true; Herodotos offers a catalogue of theonyms in chapter 59. However, we are told that they do not celebrate (οὐ νομίζουσι) those gods with statues, altars and temples – except for Ares. So, Scythian religion is irreligion.94 Later on, in chapters 108‑109, we are presented with the allegedly half-Greek95 Gelonoi who, on the other hand, are not only agriculturalists (γῆς τε ἐργα´ται καὶ σιτοφα´γοι) and city-dwellers, but they also worship Greek gods with statues, altars and wooden temples, and they even celebrate a trietēris festival for Dionysos and are Bacchants (τῷ Διονυ´σῳ τριετηρίδας ἀνα´γουσι καὶ βακχευ´ουσι). The lines are full-drawn here.

Conclusion The so-called eschatological string rests primarily on five episodes in Book 4 of Herodotos’ Histories: i. Herakles’ journey to Erytheia and his encounter with the chthonic monster in Hylaia (4.8‑10). ii. Aristeas’ last journey to Metapontion and the transient mention of Abaris (4.11‑15, 4.36.1). iii. Anacharsis’ adoption of the Meter cult and his subsequent execution (4.76). iv. Skyles’ initiation into the Dionysiac mysteries and his subsequent execution (4.78‑80). v. Salmoxis’ adoption of Pythagoreanism (4.93‑96). My hypothesis is that these are not isolated episodes, but bricks in a more fundamental structure of Herodotos’ narrative. The author prepares his read-

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ers for this analysis in the earlier books of his Histories. In Book 2 he repeatedly refers to the Dionysos/Osiris myth (though implicitly, bound as he is by some Orphic pledge of secrecy); he speaks about an Orphic-Pythagorean taboo against burying the dead in wool cloths (2.81) and the concept of metempsychosis being derived from Egypt (2.123). In Book 3 the Ethiopian table of the Sun suggests the Orphic-Pythagorean bios (3.17‑25), and the Polykrates and Demokedes episodes bring Pythagoras’ birthplace Samos and his later home Kroton into the scene (3.39‑60, 120‑149). The prominence of the Kroisos story in Book 1 with its emphasis on true happiness and the king’s enlightenment on the pyre (1.29‑33, 86‑87) must have contributed to the expectations as well. The individual episodes and references do not suffice per se, but the accumulation of them makes it highly probable that they serve a purpose in the narrative. The five episodes of Book 4 involve some sort of initiation into the mysteries of Meter or Dionysos. The core of the initiation is a rite of liminality that takes place either in Hades (a subterranean chamber) or in the wilderness. In the Orphic-Dionysiac initiation, the initiand probably went through some sort of ritual death by virtue of which he was identified with the murdered god himself; he was torn to pieces and cooked (symbolically). After that, the initiate observed a bios different from others and ate differently, and after death he would expect a special treatment, some kind of apotheosis or redemption from the “wheel of calamities”. The catechumens Anacharsis and Skyles, on the other hand, never succeeded in their initiations, but traded the ritual death of the blessed for a less coveted physical one. The bios of the Scythian nomad is comparable to that of the liminal phase, but it does not lead to a sacred bios. The eschatological allusions, which would be perfectly comprehensible to “those who know”, underline the Scythians’ fundamental lack of agricultural civilisation. Thus, when crossing the Danube into the land of the Scythians, Dareios enters a nightmare landscape of inverted values. His campaign is disastrous, and he returns uninitiated, immediately before he begins his great, but tragic war with Greece, the heart of civilisation. In other words, the many subtle eschatological references contribute in making Book 4 the pivotal scene of Herodotos’ Histories, which are basically about the tragic Clash of Civilisations between the Orient and Occident. Notes 1 The present article is an enlarged version of a paper presented and published in Danish (= Hinge 2004b). I am grateful to the editors for accepting it for publication in this volume and especially to Pia Guldager Bilde for her sound scepticism, which helped me improve many, if not all, weak points of my presentation. 2 4.76.1 ξεινικοῖσι δὲ νομαίοισι καὶ οὗτοι φευ´γουσι αἰνῶς χρᾶσθαι, μήτε γε´ων ἄλλεων, Ἑλληνικοῖσι δὲ καὶ μα´λιστα.

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3 Dubois 1996, 152, suggests that the very name of the city is due to the influence of the Orphic cult (“the blessed city”, cf. SEG XXXVI, 694 = Dubois 1996, no 93). Vinogradov 1997 emphasises the political significance of the Orphic-Dionysiac cult. 4 Dubois 1996, no 92 Δημώνασσα Ληναίο εὐαί καὶ Λήναιος Δημο´κλο εἰαί. The exclamation εὐαί (like εὐα´ν and εὐοῖ) is associated with Dionysiac cult. 5 Dettori 1996. 6 It is normally assumed that the deceased died of excessive drinking or simply liked to drink (cf. Struve 1965, 115). However, the juncture [Λ]ηναίου [π]νείοντα resembles Nonnos, Dion. 19.133 ληνὸν ἔτι πνείοντα, and it may have been part of an Orphic hymnic tradition. Sim. Anth.Pal. 7.25 = 67 Page, which shows several affinities with our epigram, may reflect the same tradition. 7 εὕδων οὖν Ἑκαταῖε, μεσο´χρονος, ἴσθ᾿ ὅτι θᾶσσον κυ´κλον ἀνιηρῶν ἐχε´φυγες καμα´των: cf. Graf & Johnston 2007, no 5, l. 5 κυ´κλο δ᾿ ἐξε´πταν βαρυπενθε´ος ἀργαλε´οιο, Orph. fr. 229 Kern κυ´κλου τ᾿ ἂν λήξαι καὶ ἀναπνευ´σαι κακο´τητος, 224b.1‑2 οὕνεκ᾿ ἀμειβομε´νη ψυχὴ κατὰ κυ´κλα χρο´νοιο ἀνθρώπων ζώιοισι μετε´ρχεται ἄλλοθεν ἄλλοις (cf. also Antiphilos Anth.Pal. 6.95.6 Πα´ρμις, ἀνιηρῶν παυσα´μενος καμα´των). 8 Cf., e.g., Graf 1993; Burkert 2003, 79‑106; Graf & Johnston 2007, 62‑65. 9 These texts have been collected in Pugliese Carratelli 2001 and most recently in Graf & Johnston 2007. This type of instructions may be due to the model of the Egyptian Book of the Dead, cf. Merkelbach 1999. 10 Cf. Graf 1993. 11 Cf. Henrichs 1994, 47‑51. 12 Graf 1985, 285‑291. 13 It is exactly what the festivals are to the Athenians according to Perikles (in Thuc. 2.38): τῶν πο´νων πλείστας ἀναπαυ´λας. The Athenian festivals celebrated in the honour of Dionysos had nothing to do with eschatological mysteries; apparently, this need was fulfilled by the Eleusinian mysteries instead. 14 For the link between Bacchic frenzy and Orphic initiation, see Graf & Johnston 2007, 142‑143, where it is assumed that the Orphic redemption was reserved for a minority among the worshippers of Dionysos quoting Pl. Phd. 69c πολλοὶ μὲν ναρθηκοφο´ροι, παῦροι δε´ τε βα´κχοι (a Christian cannot help recalling Ev.Matt 22.14 πολλοὶ γα´ρ εἰσιν κλητοὶ ὀλίγοι δὲ ἐκλεκτοί). 15 Burkert 1972a, 50‑51. 16 For the importance of cosmology in the mystery cult, see Obbink 1997. 17 West 1983, 172‑173, derives the account from “some Euhemeristic source of the later Hellenistic period”. 18 Cf. also Diod. 3.65.8; Eus. Praep.ev. 2.2.5; Hymn.Orph. 44.7, 45 (title), 52.8, 53.4, 54.3. Cf. Jeanmaire 1951, 172, 218‑219; Merkelbach 1988, 86‑87. 19 LSAM 48.18‑20 καὶ ἐα´ν τις γυνὴ βου´ληται τελεῖν τῶι Διονυ´σωι | τῶι Βακχίωι ἐν τῆι πο´λει ἢ ἐν τῆι χώραι ἢ ἐν ταῖς νήσοις, [ἀπο]|διδο´τω τῆι ἱερείαι στατῆρα κατ’ ἑκα´στην τριετηρίδα. 20 As suggested by the testimony of Firmicus Maternus; cf. also Sch. Clem.Al. Protr., p. 318 Stählin δυ´σαγνον κρεανομίαν· ὠμὰ γὰρ ἤσθιον κρε´α οἱ μυου´μενοι Διονυ´σῳ, δεῖγμα τοῦτο τελου´μενοι τοῦ σπαραγμοῦ, ὃν ὑπε´στη Διο´νυσος ὑπὸ τῶν Μαινα´δων. According to Pind. fr. 133 Snell-Maehler, those who are reborn have atoned an old suffering (οἷσι Φερσεφο´να ποινὰν παλαιοῦ πε´νθεος δε´ξεται).

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21 Lloyd 1976, vol. 2, 279; Burkert 2002. For a general discussion of Herodotos’ pious reticence, see Harrison 2000, 182‑207. 22 Lloyd-Jones 1985, 257. 23 Burkert 1961. 24 The thunder stroke is a punishment (for the original crime committed by the Titans), but if deification is granted, it is at the same time a blessing, cf. Graf & Johnston 2007, 125‑127. 25 For the twelve labours, cf. Brommer 1953. West 1997, 470‑472, proposes an Egyptian model. 26 Hinge 2004a. Other potential sources are Peisandros and Herodotos’ own uncle, Panyassis. 27 Pherekydes of Athens seems to have identified Erytheia with Gadeira like Herodotos (fr. 18b Fowler), whereas Hekataios locates the scene in Epeiros (fr. 26 Fowler). Pherekydes also has the story about the golden cup (fr. 18 Fowler). 28 Fontenrose 1959, 94‑120. 29 Latin vitulus: Hellanikos, fr. 111 Fowler; the same etymology, but without the mythical reason in Varro, Rust. 2.1.9; Gell. NA 9.1.2. 30 The Odyssean Kimmerians are a mythical people “hidden in mist and clouds” (Od. 11.15 ἠε´ρι καὶ νεφε´λῃ κεκαλυμμε´νοι). This detail may point to the origin of the historical Kimmerians who came from beyond the “dark ocean”, see Hinge 2005, 107. 31 Albinus 2000, 79‑81. Cf. Sch. Hom. Od. 11.385. Diod. 1.96.6‑9, sees Orphic-Egyptian influence in the second Nekyia (Book 24). 32 West 1983, 190‑194; Brisson 1985; idem 1995. Brisson stresses that the Derveni papyrus does not represent an earlier phase of the Orphic “Rhapsodies”. At any rate, Pindar has a Χρο´νος ὁ πα´ντων πατήρ in the highly Orphic Olympian 2 (vv. 16‑17). 33 According to some sources, Herakles is called Recaranus or Garanus in this myth; it is probably a corruption of *Tricaranus “three-horned”, cf. Puccioni 1970. The three-headedness of the opponent seems to have been replaced by a threehornedness of the hero. Cf. also Lincoln 1981, 112 + note 81. 34 Burkert 1979, 78‑98; Watkins 1995, 464‑468; Janda 2005, 287‑298; West 2007, 259‑262. On a possible Indo-European origin of Orpheus, cf. Estell 1999. 35 Watkins 1995, 448‑459 (he observes that the verb ἱμα´σσω occurring repeatedly in the Greek versions (Il. 2.457; Hes. Theog. 857; Hymn.Hom.Apoll. 340) reflects ishimanta in the Hittite version). 36 West 1997, 465. There seem to have been myths about the death and resurrection of Melqart, cf. Mettinger 2001, 83‑111. 37 Hsch. s.v. Κιμμερὶς θεα´ = Trag.Adesp. fr. 221 Nauck. 38 Pindar (?) fr. 346 Snell-Maehler; Eur. HF 611‑613; Apollod. Bibl. 2.5.12; allusions in Ar. Ran. They probably all go back to a lost epic, cf. Lloyd-Jones 1967; Graf 1974, 139‑150. According to Lada-Richards 1999, Herakles in Aristophanes’ Frogs represents an “alterity” in contrast to the initiate Dionysos. 39 Xen. An. 6.2.2. Other sources locate his entrance at Tainaron in Lakonia (Eur. HF 23, Paus. 3.25.5, Apollod. Bibl. 2.5.12). 40 Rusjaeva & Vinogradov 1991. 41 Dubois 1996, 56‑57, has questioned the date of the editors because of the occasional spelling ου for the secondary (close) ō, which is unusual in the Olbian inscriptions before 400 BC. However, the style of the letters is clearly Archaic. Furthermore,

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44 45 46

47 48 49 50

51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61

George Hinge even if ου is not attested in contemporary Olbian inscriptions, it occurs occasionally in other areas of the Greek world in the Archaic period already. West 1983, 140‑175; Pugliese Carratelli 2001, 86‑93; Graf & Johnston 2007, 73‑80. Steph.Byz. s.v. Μα´σταυρα claims that Dionysos was raised by Rheia. As the mystēs of Kybele/Rheia Dionysos becomes a gallos like the Attis. Dionysos was probably not castrated literally in any tradition. However, his extreme effeminacy in Classical tradition made him a sort of eunuch. Furthermore, Herodotos alludes to the Egyptian myth of the disappearance of the penis of Osiris/Dionysos (2.48.3). For the date of Eumelos, see West 2002. She seems to be another Thracian-Phrygian doublet of Demeter / Kore (zemel‑ “earthly”, cf. Phrygian ζεμελως “men” < PIE *dhĝhem‑ = Greek χθών). Burkert 1972a, 308‑9: “Ein Weg in die Unterwelt, an den einige literarische Zeugnisse denken lassen, ließ sich im wörtlichen Sinn in Eleusis nicht bewerk­ stelligen; doch mochte man die Finsternis in dem geschlossenen Raum wohl als Hadesnähe erleben”; Graf 1974, 79‑94. Hommel 1980, 63‑64; Hedreen 1991; Rusjaeva 1992, 70‑83. For the date of the Aithiopis, see Hinge 2005, 105. Hommel 1980, 18. Cf. also Plin. NH 4.93 eadem Leuce et Macaron appellata and Sch. Pind. Ol. 2.109‑149. Ἀχίλλευς ὀ τὰς Σκυθίκας με´δεις. It is interesting that Alkaios uses a word which is attested in dedications from Leuke: SEG XXX, 869 Ἀχιλλῆι Λευκῇ μεδε´οντι (5th century BC); IOSPE I2, 326.2 Ἀχιλλεῖ [Λευκ]ῆς μεδε´οντι (4th century BC). Dubois 1996, 99‑100, conjectures that the common source was the Aithiopis. However, the participle μεδε´ων + gen. is common in epicleses to other gods in inscriptions found in the Northern Black Sea area: CIRB 31.5; 35.2; 75.12; 971.2; 1111.4 (Aphrodite); Dubois 1996, no 81 (Meter); no 58 (Apollon); CIRB 22 (Hekate); 1315.3 (Artemis). It is less frequent in inscriptions from other areas: IG I3, 1492; 37; 1493; 1494; 1495; 1491; 1454; SEG XXII, 274 (Athena); Tit.Calymnii 108; 109; 110 (Apollon). It was possibly a formula of the archaic hymn language that remained popular in the periphery. Burkert 1972b, 155‑159. Zhmud 1997, 115. Burkert 1972b, 132; idem 2003, 105‑106; Bremmer 2002, 11‑24. Lévêque 2000. Burkert 1972a, 140‑142. Cf. Aristox. fr. 16 Wehrli; Apollod. FGrH 244 F 339. Aristox. fr. 18 Wehrli; Iambl. VP 248‑252. It must be emphasised that wrestling was in Antiquity an aristocratic sport and by no means incompatible with a philosophical mind; allegedly, Platon was a wrestler as well (Diog. Laert. 3.4). Suda s.v. Ἡρο´δοτος. Dowden 1980. Bolton 1962 and Alemany i Vilamajó 1999, 45‑55, insist on a physical journey. It is supported by Herodotos’ preference for the phrase κατυ´περθε πρὸς βορε´ην (4.7.3, 20.2, 22.1, 25.1), which recurs in a fragment of the Arimaspeia (fr. 5 Bernabé). Ivantchik 1993 asserts that Aristeas has borrowed it from Ionic prose and dates him accordingly to ca. 500 BC. However, cf. Hinge 2005, 91‑92.

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62 τὸν γὰρ περὶ Ἀβα´ριος λο´γον τοῦ λεγομε´νου εἶναι οὐ λε´γω (λε´γων, ὡς τὸν ὀιστὸν περιε´φερε κατὰ πᾶσαν γῆν οὐδὲν σιτεο´μενος). To avoid the repetition of the verb λε´γειν, Rosén 1987 deletes the parenthesis, while Corcella & Medaglia 1993 defend the transmitted text. Such pleonasms are not unusual for Herodotos’ Greek, e.g. 1.94.2 ἅμα δὲ ταυ´τας τε ἐξευρεθῆναι παρὰ σφίσι λε´γουσι καὶ Τυρσηνίην ἀποικίσαι, ὧδε περὶ αὐτῶν λε´γοντες. 63 Cf. Meuli 1935, 159‑160; Dodds 1951, 161 note 33; Burkert 1972b, 150 (criticism in Bolton 1962, 158; Bremmer 2002, 33). 64 Linforth 1918; Eliade 1970, 39‑42. 65 Burkert 1972b, 159. 66 E.g. Od. 10.504‑516, Ar. Ran. 136‑270.S. West, 2007, 389‑391, lists Indo-European parallels. 67 The initiands were abused verbally with so-called gephyrisms (γε´φυρα “bridge”) when crossing the bridge, i.e. so-called gephyrismoi (Strabon 9.1.24, Hsch. s.vv. γεφυρίς and γεφυρισταί). 68 The most thorough treatment of Herodotos’ religiosity is Harrison 2000. He speaks about the “evangelizing purpose” of Herodotos’ Histories, i.e. the propagation of the general idea that man is subjected to some kind of divine justice. 69 Burkert 1972b, 161. 70 The Scythian myth of origin (4.5‑7) is probably associated with a rite of passage not unlike the Doric rituals concerning the inclusion to the three phylai; the young men are going through a phase of liminality including a ritual death, cf. Hinge 2003a. In Herodotos’ discourse the signs of liminality are often extended to Scythia as such. 71 Graf 1974. 72 Vernant 1979. 73 Burkert 1990, 9‑10. 74 Orphic vegetarianism is attested in Eur. Hipp. 952‑954; Ar. Ran. 1032; Plat. Leg. 782c. 75 Cf. Hell. fr. 187b Fowler αὐτοὺς δικαιοσυ´νην μὴ κρεοφαγοῦντας, ἀλλ᾽ ἀκροδρυ´οις χρωμε´νους; the diet of Abaris is even more ascetic in Hdt. 4.36.1 (οὐ σιτεο´μενος). 76 Hartog 1979. 77 For the archaeological background of the rituals described by Herodotos, see Murphy & Mallory 2000. 78 Shaw 1982‑1983. 79 Od. 9.190‑191 οὐδὲ ἐῴκει ἀνδρί γε σιτοφα´γῳ. According to Hesiodos, the warlike and hybristic Bronze Race “did not eat bread, but had a fearless heart of steel” (Op. 146‑147 οὐδε´ τι σῖτον ἤσθιον, ἀλλ’ ἀδα´μαντος ἔχον κρατερο´φρονα θυμο´ν). Isokrates says that grain is “the reason why we do not live like wild animals” (Paneg. 28 τοὺς καρποὺς οἳ τοῦ μὴ θηριωδῶς ζῆν ἡμᾶς αἴτιοι γεγο´νασιν). 80 Schmidt 1975, 291, reads μονα´δες instead of νομα´δες, but the transmitted form is more special than the conjecture and therefore more probable. 81 Seaford 1982; idem 1984, 48‑51. 82 According to Caesar (BGall. 6.23), the Germanic tribes showed their power by having as much empty borderland around their territories as possible. It may have been an ideal common to non-urbanised tribes in Central and Eastern Europe, cf. Hinge 2003b, 26‑30.

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83 Thus, from the point of view of the Scythians themselves, periphery becomes centre, cf. Hartog 1991, 153‑157; Hinge 2003b, 28‑30. 84 Meuli 1935; Dodds 1951, 134‑178; Burkert 1972b, 120‑165; West 1983, 143‑150; Margreth 1993. 85 Bremmer 1983, 24‑53; idem 2002, 27‑40; Zhmud 1997, 107‑116. Cf. also Dowden 1980. 86 Rudenko 1970, 284‑285; Wolf & Andraschko 1991. 87 Dodds 1951, 161 note 32. 88 Eliade 1951; similarly Hermanns 1970, vol. 2, 343‑346, argues that shamanism arose in an area between Persia, Tibet and India in the first centuries AD under the influence of Zoroastrianism and Buddhism. The Turkic word which is the source of the English shaman comes from Pali śamaṇa, Sanskrit śramaṇa “Buddhist monk”. 89 Dowden 1979. 90 Karttunen 1989, 108‑119; Halbfass 1991‑1992. 91 Hinge 2005, 100‑107. 92 In the pagan religion of the historical Indo-European peoples, it is a widespread conviction that the souls of the dead went to some kind of underworld, sometimes guarded by one or more dogs (West 387‑396). The Greek word νε´κταρ is probably derived from the PIE compound *nek’-trh2 “overcoming death” (cf. Watkins 1995, 491‑397). Janda 2000 finds Indo-European (especially Indo-Iranian) parallels for the Eleusinian myths and rituals, but many of his etymologies are controversial. 93 Sulimirski 1985, 169‑171; Thordarson 1988. 94 Compare the Kyklops of Homer (Od. 9.275‑276 οὐ γὰρ Κυ´κλωπες Διὸς αἰγιο´χου ἀλε´γουσιν οὐδὲ θεῶν μακα´ρων, ἐπεὶ ἦ πολὺ φε´ρτεροί εἰμεν) and the Silver Race of Hesiod (Op. 135‑136 οὐδ᾽ ἀθανα´τους θεραπευ´ειν ἤθελον οὐδ᾽ ἔρδειν μακα´ρων ἱεροῖς ἐπὶ βωμοῖς). 95 On the language of the Gelonoi, see Hinge 2005, 110‑111.

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Indices

1. Geographical names Abdera 108, 111, 112, 114‑117, 120, 124 n. 51, 126 n. 85 Abella 313 Achaia 69, 75 Achladovounno Mountains 126 n. 88 Adjaristskali Gorge 303 Adžigol’ Estuary 191 Adžigol’ Ravine 184 Adžijska Vodenica, see Pistiros Aegean 104, 105, 107, 110‑112, 115, 119, 122, 150, 335, 337 Aghios Athanasios 104 Aghios Giorgos Peak 104 Aghios Mamas 106 Ainos 104, 112, 114 Ainyra Mines 110 Aiolia 111, 112 Akalan 266‑270, 277, 279 n. 27, n. 29 & n. 33, 282 n. 73 Akanthos 120 Akbulat-Oba 201 Ak-Burun Barrow 18, 295 Ak-Burun Cape 208 Akliman 156 Akontisma, see Nea Karvali Ak-Taš 243, 245, 249, 252 Ak-Taš Lake 210 Alaca Höyük 272 Alexandroupolis 122 Aliakmon River 108 Aliki 116 Alişar 266 Amisos 11, 263‑267, 277, 278 n. 12 & n. 14 Amphipolis 111 Ampurias 232 n. 44

Anatolia 11, 107, 263, 264, 270, 271, 274, 277, 279 n.  32, 281 n. 51, 282 n. 76, 377 Ano Komi 124 n. 38 Antioch 329 n. 52 Apollonia 32, 142, 154, 231 n. 25, 242 Apsaros 12, 159, 160 n.  31, 303‑306, 309, 311, 313, 314, 319, 324, 326 n. 1 & 3, 327 n. 6, 328 n. 36 & n. 43 Apulia 75 Argilos 111 Argos 232 n. 44 Armenia 310 Armenia Minor 303 Artjuchov Barrow 290 Asar Tepe 103, 104, 108 Asia 9, 59, 62 n. 31, 381, 386, 387 Asia Minor 107, 152, 268, 280 n. 40, 282 n. 70, 320 Assiros 102 Astanino 247 Athens 111, 117, 119, 145, 157, 231 n. 24 & n. 26, 290, 314, 335, 338‑340, 349, 354, 364 n. 20, 377 Athens, Agora 239, 241, 249, 252 Athens, Kerameikos 238 Attica 11, 245, 255, 280 n. 38, 384 Avdira 104 Aventine 376 Avernus Lake 376 Azov Sea, see Maiotis Bactria 47‑49, 61, 387 Bajdarskaja Valley 287 Balakleja 48, 62 n. 10 Balkans 112, 387 Balki 241 Basento River 76, 77, 95 n. 25

400

Indices

Basilicata 75 Batumi 132, 303 Belobrodskoe 201, 203 Bel’sk 151 Berezan’ 31, 32, 94 n. 5, 151, 154, 159, 183, 190, 191, 281 n. 69, 337, 342 Berezan’ Estuary 181, 183, 184, 189 Berge 118 Besleneevskaja stanica 57 Bičvinta 146 Bistonis Pond 104, 112 Black Sea 9‑11, 13‑18, 20, 21 n.  12, 29‑32, 34, 37‑40, 47‑49, 52‑61, 68, 69, 94 n. 5 & n. 7, 107, 114, 123 n. 34, 126 n.  85, 131, 137, 139, 142‑146, 149, 150, 152, 154‑159, 160 n.  5, 183, 190, 198, 211, 216, 222, 225, 231 n.  25 & n.  26, 238, 240, 245, 252‑255, 263‑265, 267, 270, 288‑291, 293, 295‑297, 303, 306, 313, 314, 316, 328 n.  43, 333, 335, 339, 341‑343, 347‑349, 351, 356‑362, 364 n.  11, 370, 377, 379, 381, 385 Boğazköy 266, 278 n. 16, 281 n. 55 Bogdanovka 241, 243 Bol’šaja Belozerka 239 Bol’šaja Korenicha 183, 191 Borysthenes River, see Bug Borysthenes, see Olbia Pontike Bosporan Kingdom 55, 193, 205, 218, 222, 226, 228, 229, 231 n. 24 & n. 26, 253, 287, 288, 290, 292‑294, 296, 298, 299, 308, 383 Bosporos, see Bosporan Kingdom, Kimmerian Bosporos, and Thracian Bosporos Branoe Pole 249 Brilevka 239 Brindisi 76 Broglio di Trebisacce 70‑72, 74 Brundisium 31, 41 n. 8 Buerova Mogila 18, 57 Bug 15, 94 n. 5, 159, 357, 364 n. 11 Bug Estuary 181, 183, 184, 189

Burun Lake 218, 223 Butor 247, 248, 251 Byzantine Empire 299 Byzantion 114, 157, 158, 160 n. 5, 326 n. 2, 327 n. 6, 364 n. 11, 381 Čajka 250 Calabria 67, 69, 71, 95 n. 11, 380 Canayeri 313 Caucasus 19, 20, 152, 306‑308, 324, 387 Čauda Cape 193‑196, 198‑201, 204, 205, 208, 210‑212 Cebel’da 146 Černjanka 247, 249 Čertomlyk 247, 250, 251 Chadisia 265, 278 n. 14 Chalkedon 158, 160 n. 30 Chalkidike 106, 108, 110‑112 Charax 297, 298 Chersonesos 55, 63 n.  41, 69, 146, 153, 191, 203, 241, 287, 288, 294, 296‑299 China 58 Chios 112, 197 Chortica Island 247 Cichisdziri 145, 146 Čkalovka 241, 243 Čmyreva Mogila 239, 243, 255 Čoloki River 131, 132, 134 Čorochi River 303 Corsica 29 Crati River 74 Crete 336, 370 Crimea 11, 17‑19, 48, 55, 56, 67, 70, 94, 151‑153, 190, 194, 200, 211, 241, 243, 245‑247, 249, 253, 271, 287‑300, 313 Cumae 376 Čurjuk-Su River 208‑210 Čurubaš Lake 211, 216, 223 Cycladic Islands 112 Cyprus 280 n. 38 Dacia 48

Indices Danube 54, 58, 352, 356, 375, 379, 382, 389 Danube Delta 126 n. 85 Deiradiotai 344 n. 14 Delos 83, 338, 344 n. 20, 381 Delphi 338, 344 n. 18, 380 Derveni 372, 391 n. 32 Didova Chata 191 Didyma 238, 337 Dikaia 112 Dindymene, Mt. 351 Dioskourias 314 Djurmen’ 200, 210 Djurmen’, Mt. 200 Dneprorudnyj 241, 243, 253 Dnieper 17, 19, 54, 152, 247, 250, 253, 364 n. 11 Dnieper Estuary 181, 183, 184, 189 Dniester 15 Dobrudja 56 Don 16‑19, 53, 54, 57, 61, 62 n. 31, 63 n. 54, 360 Doriskos 117 Drama 105, 110, 111, 116, 118, 120 n. 4 Drys 125 n. 82 Duvanli 126 n. 84 Džarylgač Lake 11, 67 Egypt 155, 313, 336, 349, 374, 379‑381, 384, 386, 389 Eion 114, 115, 117 Eleftheroupoli 116 Eleusis 377‑379, 382‑384, 392 n. 46 Elizavetinskoe 18 Elizavetovskaja stanica 57, 58 Elizavetovskoe 16, 18 Emporion 117 Epeiros 391 n. 27 Ephesos 336, 338 Erchia 344 n. 14 Eretria 83 Ergani 103, 104, 108 Erochin Estate 218

401

Etruria 83, 95 n. 19, 222, 279 n. 32, 282 n. 76 Euboia 112 Eurasia 13‑15 Eurasian Steppe 54, 58 Euromos 279 n. 32 Euxine, see Black Sea Exampaios 383 Exohi 110 Fayum 313 Feodosia Gulf 193, 194, 199, 202, 205 Filouri River 104, 106, 116 Francavilla Marittima 69, 71, 72, 80, 87 Gadeira 391 n. 27 Gajmanovo Pole 248‑250 Galepsos 124 n. 48 & n. 61 Galiče 48 Galilee 290 Ganos 119 Gazoros 116 Gelonos 359, 360 Georgia 131, 303, 310, 313, 317, 318, 321, 322, 324, 326 n. 2, 328 n. 42 Geroevskoe 215 Gerze 156 Gibraltar 377 Gjunovka 243 Gona 102 Gonio 303, 316‑318, 324, 326 n. 1 Gordion 270, 271, 280 n. 40 & n. 46, 281 n. 57 Gorgippia 14, 222 Gotse Deltchev Basin 110 Greece 101, 107, 113, 154, 157, 159, 222, 232 n.  43, 290, 349, 377‑379, 381, 387, 389 Gurzuf Saddle 11, 288‑299 Halikarnassos 348 Halys Basin 263‑267, 277 Halys River 263, 264, 267, 278 n. 5 & n. 14 Hatra 47 Hebros River 101, 114, 118

402

Indices

Hellespont 39, 263, 357, 358, 359, 382 Herakleia Pontike 114, 133, 153, 157, 158, 160 n. 5, 197, 200, 201, 226, 231 n. 25, 264, 290, 298, 329 n. 43 Herakleian Peninsula 294, 298 Heraštreu 48 Herculaneum 296 Hermonassa 14, 15, 150 Hipponion 370 Histria, see Istros Hittite Empire 266 Hopa 314 Hungary 48 Hylaia 334, 351, 357, 375‑380, 382, 388 Hypanis 357 Hyssiporto 311, 313 Iberia 310, 313, 314 Il’inka 243‑246 Ilion 338, 344 n. 19 Il’ja Cape 194 India 9, 40, 49, 308, 387, 394 n. 88 Ionia 112, 215, 274, 281 n. 61, 335, 337, 338 Iran 40 Iris River 263, 264 Ischia 76, 83 Ismaros 102, 108, 115, 124 n. 58 Ismaros Mountains 104 Istros 152, 242, 279 n. 33, 352, 359, 364 n. 32 Italy 31, 41 n. 9, 67‑71, 75, 76, 107, 108, 120 n. 29, 151, 313, 328 n. 42, 370, 375, 379‑381 Jančokrak 47, 48, 51 Jerusalem 34 Judea 34 Kačik 200, 204 Kačik Lake 193, 198‑202, 204, 208, 210 Kačik-1 settlement 200, 202 Kačik-2 settlement 201 Kalamaria 124 n. 39 Kalos Limen 55

Kalpe Limen 156‑158, 160 n. 28 Kaman-Kalehöyük 267, 279 n. 26 Kamenka-Dneprovskaja 245, 246, 253, 254 Kamenskoe 250, 253 Kamyš-Burun Cape 199 Kanfarka 247 Kappadokia 278 n. 4, 279 n. 26, 313 Kapulovka 243, 244, 246, 250, 251, 253 Kara Burun Cape 215 Karabahce 278 n. 14 Karabournaki 124 n. 39 Kara-Kol’ Lake 201, 203 Karambis Cape 151 Karangat Cape 193, 196, 199, 200, 205 Karaseuka 208 Karatepe-Karataş 270, 277 Kartli 142 Karyani 109 Kastras 105 Kastri 103‑104, 111, 123 n. 18 Kavala, see Neapolis Kazeka 198, 199, 208 Kekuvatskij Barrow 16 Kentria 109 Kephisos 382 Kepoi 14, 15, 146, 150 Kerasos 264 Kerch 207, 215 Kerch Peninsula 193, 196, 205, 207, 208, 210‑212, 298 Kerkenes Dağ 277, 280 n. 41 & n. 43 Khoreti 328 n. 34 Kievo 105 Kilikia 279 n. 26, 377 Kimmerian Bosporos 13‑20, 150, 207, 211, 212, 215, 216, 220, 335 Kimmerikon 150, 196, 199 Kirpe 156 Kitrini Lini Plain 108 Kizari 279 n. 34 Klazomenai 112

Indices Knidos 197, 298 Koinyra Mines 110 Kojaš Lake 198 Kolchis 139, 157, 304, 313, 319, 320, 326 n. 2, 327 n. 9, 329 n. 55 Kolophon 145 Komotini Basin 104, 106, 116, 120, 122 Kopiai, see Sybaris Koprivlen 110, 119 Kordylon 314 Korokondame 150 Kotais 326 n. 2 Kotyora 158, 264 Kovalevka 247, 248 Köyici Tepesi 269, 270, 271, 272, 277, 279 n. 34 Kozyrka II 242 Kremnoi 360 Krenides 118 Krioumetopon 151 Krivaja Luka 50 Kroton 68, 76, 91, 381, 386, 389 Kuban’ 17, 18, 20, 49, 52, 54, 57, 58, 61 Kul’-Oba 16 Kurdžipskaja stanica 57 Kut 240, 241, 243, 245, 246, 249 Kyrenaika 239 Kyrene 155, 160 n. 25 Kytaia 146, 207 Kyzikos 145, 334, 338, 344 n. 19, 351, 378, 379, 382 Ladik Lake 270, 279 n. 34 Lakkovikia 109 Lakonia 391 n. 39 L’Amastuola 76 Lamia 338, 344 n. 18 Langada Basin 102 Larisa 282 n. 76 Lazica 313, 314, 322, 326 n. 2 Lefkandi 112, 279 n. 38 Lekani Mountains 117 Lemons 111

403

Lenino 242, 247, 249 Lesbos 111 Leuke 32, 335, 379, 386 Levant 264 Libya 155 Limenas 104, 111 L’Incoronata 76, 77, 94 n. 5 Lindos 281 n. 64 Linos 120, 121 Lis’ja Mogila 247, 250 L’vovo 240, 242 Lycia 264 Lysaja Gora 250 Macchiabate Cemetery 88, 95 n.  30, 96 n. 50 Macedonia 102, 104, 106, 108, 109, 111‑113, 123 n. 37 Magna Graecia 30, 31, 33, 34, 38, 40, 68‑70, 94, 94 n. 5, 101, 102, 107, 113, 125 n. 62, 150, 225, 336 Maiotis 14, 53, 56, 62 n. 31, 360 Majačnaja Bay 195‑197 Malaja Bliznica Barrow 22 n. 51 Mamaj-Gora 239, 244‑250 Mandra 104, 116, 117 Maroneia 102, 108, 112, 114‑116, 118‑120, 122 Massandra 299 Media 53 Mediterranean 9‑11, 19, 123 n. 31, 232 n. 44, 238, 279 n. 26, 290, 303, 316, 359 Melek-Česme River 210 Melitopol’ Barrow 239, 241 Mende 201 Merdžany 18 Mesembria 115, 125 n. 78 Mesembria-Zone, see Zone Mesopotamia 264 Metapontion 11, 69, 75, 76, 91, 114, 381, 383, 388 Mezitözü 266 Midas City 281 n. 57 Mikro Doukato 106

404

Indices

Mikro Karabournaki 108 Miletos 145, 264, 269, 279 n. 30, 335, 337, 338, 371 Mithridates, Mt. 199 Moedani 328 n. 34 Mongolia 49 Mourgana 104 Myrina 232 n. 44 Myrmekion 14, 15, 150, 160 n. 14 Mytilene 339 Napurvala Hill 146 Naukratis 279 n. 33 Nea Karvali 125 n. 61 Nea Peramos, see Oisyme Nea Skioni 106 Neapolis 111, 116, 117, 124 n. 61, 125 n. 82 Near East 222 Nečajannoe 247 Nemirovo 151, 360‑362, 364 n. 35, 365 n. 37 Neos Skopos 117 Nestoros Valley 104, 110 Nestos Gorges 126 n. 88 Nestos River 101, 102, 104, 119 Nikolaevka 242, 245 Nikopol’ 247 Nosaki 250, 251, 255 Novomichajlovka 247 Novopokrovka 208 Novouzensk 50 Nymphaion 14‑16, 142, 150, 208, 215‑232, 245 Očakov 183 Očchamuri River 131 Ochči-Oba 201, 203, 204 Oiagros 39 Oisyme 104, 105, 111, 115, 116, 124 n. 61 Oita, Mt. 376, 377 Oktjabr’ 247, 250 Olbia Pontike 12, 14, 21 n.  9, 30‑33, 38, 41 n. 2, 48, 55, 62 n. 13, 94 n. 5, 140, 145, 153, 154, 159, 160 n.  23,

163‑191, 218, 238, 239, 242, 245, 247, 253, 290, 333‑343, 344 n. 14 & n.  15, 347, 349, 351‑357, 359, 360, 362, 363, 363 n. 7 & 10, 364 n. 10, n.  11, n.  19 & n. 20, 369‑371, 374, 378, 380, 383 Ol’gino 241, 253 Ol’govka 243 Olympia 32, 238 Olympos, Mt. 108, 124 n. 38 Olynthos 232 n. 44, 242 Onpareti 328 n. 34 Opuk, Mt. 193, 210 Ordžonikidze 250 Ostraja Mogila 245, 246 Otradnoe 247‑249 Otranto 76 Oymaağaç Höyük 278 n. 5 Pachlobaj, Mt. 210 Panskoe I 240, 242, 245, 252 Pantikapaion 14‑16, 19, 20, 48, 142, 199, 201, 207, 211, 215, 222, 225, 228, 229, 298, 335, 345 n. 23, 370 Paphlagonia 53 Parač Ridge 208, 210, 212 Paralia Karyanis, see Galepsos Parco del Cavallo 77 Paros 112 Patinioti Barrow 16 Patraeus 150 Pazadjik 118 Pazarlı 270‑276, 281 n.  58, n.  60 & n. 61 Pazyryk 386 Pelinna 371 Peloponnese 351 Peparethos 140 Perachora 83 Pergamon 146, 281 n. 57 Perivolaki 102 Peroun 105 Persia 47, 55, 57, 117, 380, 394 n. 88 Pervomaevka 241, 243, 245, 247‑251, 253

Indices Petra 327 n. 6 Petralofos 104 Phaia Petra 105, 110 Phalanna 338, 344 n. 18 Phanagoreia 14‑16, 146 Phanari Cape 104 Phasis 151, 160 n. 5, 305, 311, 313, 314, 329 n. 51 Pherai 338, 344 n. 18 & n. 20 Phoenicia 110 Phokaia 264, 339 Phrygia 264, 277, 379 Pičvnari 11, 131‑146, 159, 314, 328 n. 34 Pistiros 118, 120, 159 n. 2 Pitane 275 Pithari 104 Pityous 152, 311, 329 n. 51 Plataiai 383 Platania 104 Plavni 241, 243 Pljuščevka 247, 249, 253 Pollino Mountains 95 n. 10 & n. 12 Poltymbria 104 Pompeii 296 Pontolivada 125 n. 61 Pontos, see Black Sea Pontos, Kingdom of 19, 20 Pontus Polemoniacus 314, 327 n. 9 Porsuk 279 n. 26 Porthmion 14, 15, 150, 152 Poseidonia 232 n. 44 Potamoi Barrows 110 Potos 102 Prochorovka 49, 52, 54, 57, 58, 62 n. 21 Propontis 119, 151, 160 n. 30 Psoa 205 Pteiria 265, 278 n. 14 Raganello River 67, 71, 92, 95 n. 10 Rhine 307 Rhizaeum 328 n. 38 Rhodos 274‑276, 290, 298, 299, 338, 344 n. 15, n. 17, n. 18 & n. 19

405

Rioni River 313 Rize 328 n. 38 Rodope Mountains 102‑107, 110, 116, 119‑121, 125 n.  74, 126 n.  84 & no. 88 Rogačik 239, 241, 243, 247, 253 Roman Empire 34, 56, 308, 313, 322, 327 n. 9 Rome 12, 20, 280 n. 46, 288, 293‑297, 308, 310 Roussa 107 Russia 57, 59 Sadovoe II 209, 210 Saïs 374 Sale 122, 125 n. 78, n. 82 Salmydessos 158 Samarli Ravine 210 Samos 39, 274, 275, 281 n. 61 & n. 64, 336, 381, 382, 389 Samothrace 112, 115, 117, 122, 125 n. 70 Samothracian peraia 112, 113, 115, 125 n. 78 Saraj-Minsk Ravine 210 Sarakini 104 Sardes 282 n. 76 Sardinia 107, 120 n. 29 Sarmatia 53, 54, 56, 62 n. 32 Sarylar 203 Satechia 320 Satricum 94 n. 8 Scythia 10, 14, 16, 17, 19, 29, 52‑57, 238, 239, 243, 252‑255, 288, 334, 350, 351, 358‑360, 375, 376, 379‑383, 385, 393 n. 70 Scythian Neapolis 55, 63 n.  42, 160 n. 3, 291, 299 Sebastopolis 311, 314 Semenovka 243 Semibratnee 18, 160 n. 3 Serres Plain 105, 116‑118 Shukhuti 328 n. 34 Siberia 40, 49, 59 Sicily 68, 107, 120 n. 29, 151

406

Indices

Sindian Harbour 14 Sinop Promontory 156, 263, 264 Sinope 11, 133, 145, 156, 160 n.  5 & n.  26, 197, 200, 201, 204, 264‑266, 268, 278 n. 2, n. 8 & n. 14, 290, 298, 313, 314, 319, 325, 328 n. 43, 337 Siris 75‑77 Širokoe 247, 248, 250 Solocha 241, 243, 247, 253, 255 Soteiria 278 n. 14 Sourmene 328 n. 38 Spathes 123 n. 37 Stanislav Cape 183 Starobelsk 48, 51 Staryj Krim 208 Stathmos Angistas 109, 124 n. 42 Stavropol’ 57 Stavropoli 126 n. 88 Stephane Limne, see Ladik Lake Stombi 77, 86, 89 Stou Lakkou t’Ambeli 123 n. 37 Strait of Kerch, see Kimmerian Bosporos Stryme 114‑115, 124 n. 58, 125 n. 61 Strymon River 39, 117‑119, 126 n. 85 Suchumi 146, 303 Supsa River 328 n. 34 Surcea 48 Susly 58 Sybaris 10, 12, 32, 67‑78, 86‑89, 91‑94, 94 n. 3, 95 n. 19, 379, 381 Syria 310, 379 Tachtidziri 142 Taganrog 14, 48, 62 n. 10, 151, 159 Tainaron 391 n. 39 Takil’ Cape 199 Taman’ Peninsula 57, 191, 222, 232 n. 42, 290 Tanais 18, 146 Tanais River, see Don Taranto Gulf 76, 107 Taras 41 n. 8, 75, 76 Tarsos 279 n. 26 Tartessos 375, 376

Tatarlı 277, 282 n. 72 Taurica, see Crimea Tautepe 210 Taxila 47 Teiria 265, 278 n. 14 Tel-Anafa 290 Temir-Gora, Mt. 207, 271 Thasian peraia 104, 116, 118, 124 n. 48 Thasos 102, 104, 105, 109‑117, 120, 124 n. 48, 140, 145, 298 Themiskyra 278 n. 14 Theodosia 16, 142, 196, 199, 205, 211, 222, 298 Thera 155 Thermaic Gulf 102, 108, 111 Thermi 102 Thessaloniki 108, 124 n. 39 Thessaly 145, 336, 338, 339, 341, 370, 371 Thetonion 338, 344 n. 18 & n. 20 Thrace 10, 12, 39, 40, 101‑126, 145, 156, 353, 359, 369, 382 Thracian Bosporos 151, 152, 158 Thurioi, see Sybaris Thyrambe 150 Tibet 394 n. 88 Tiligul’ Estuary 190 Timpone Motta 67‑92, 95 n. 10, n. 29, n. 30 & n. 35 Tolstaja Mogila 251 Torikos 152 Torone 108 Torre del Mordillo 71, 74 Toumba 102, 108, 124 n. 39 Tovsta Mogyla 250, 255 Toxotes 104 Tragilos 116, 118 Transcaucasia 139 Trapezous 157, 264, 309, 311, 313, 320, 328 n. 38, 329 n. 52 Trechbratnyj Barrow 241, 243 Treis Ellis 123 n. 37 Troas 111

Indices Troy 175, 370, 386 Tsiganadika 109 Tsikhisdziri 313, 314, 327 n.  6, 328 n. 34 Tsouka 104 Tyritake 14, 15, 146, 150, 207 Tyros 377 Ural 49, 52, 54, 58‑61 Urartu 281 n. 61 Ureki 328 n. 34 Uzunlar Lake 198, 208, 210 Vafeïka 106 Valentia 328 n. 36 Vasil’evka 239, 240 Vasjurinskaja, Mt. 18 Vašnari 328 n. 34 Velikaja Znamenka 239, 241, 242 Vetren 118, 119 Vicus Maronitum, see Sale Vigla 110 Vil’na Ukraina 247, 249, 250 Vinogradovo 244, 245, 246 Višnevaja 243 Vladimirovka 243‑250 Vladislavovka 210 Volga region 49, 52, 54, 58‑61 Voznesenovka 247 Vrontous Mountain 110 Vrysoules 109 Vysšetarasovka 247‑251 Vyvodovo 251 Xanthaia 102 Xanthi 126 n. 88 Xanthi Plain 116, 120, 126 n. 90 Xanthi River 106, 116 Xeropotamos 104, 110 Yılan Taş 277, 282 n. 72 Zalpa 264, 278 n. 5 Zanaqidzeebi 320, 325 Zelenoe 239, 240 Zonaion Mountains 107 Zone 104, 107, 113‑117, 125 n. 62, n. 78 & n. 82

407

2. Gods and mythological figures Abderos 108 Achilleus 32, 335, 379, 380 Agenor 124 n. 48 Androphagoi 384 Aphrodite 335, 392 n. 50 Aphrodite Urania 353 Api 353 Apollon 31, 38, 39, 83, 292, 335‑337, 341, 353, 373, 380‑382, 392 n. 50 Ares 353, 359, 383, 388 Argilos 116 Argimpasa 353 Argonautes 108 Ariadne 31 Artemis 292, 392 n. 50 Athena 95 n.  35, 335, 372, 374, 392 n. 50 Attis 392 n. 43 Aži Dahāka 377 Bakcheios, see Dionysos Borysthenes 357, 378 Bromios 385 Cacus 376 Charon 225, 228, 231 n. 36 Charops 39 Cilix 124 n. 48 Demeter 335, 364 n. 20, 373, 378‑380, 383‑385, 392 n. 43 Diomedes 39 Dionysos 30‑33, 38‑40, 41 n. 2, 334‑337, 341, 352‑355, 358, 359, 364 n.  19 & n.  20, 369‑374, 376, 379‑380, 382‑385, 388‑389, 390 n.  13, 391 n. 38, 392 n. 43 Earth 353 Echidna 376‑378 Erechtonios 377 Erytheia 375, 388, 391 n. 27 Europe 124 n. 48 Euterpe 39 Fate 373 Fortuna 292 Gebeleïzis 39

408

Indices

Geryon 274, 357, 375‑378, 382, 383 Goitosuros 353 Great Mother, see Kybele Hades 31, 32, 370, 375, 376, 379, 382, 384, 389 Hekate 392 n. 50 Helena 140, 386 Helios 375, 377, 384, 389 Hera 32, 372, 379 Herakles 108, 110, 264, 269, 279 n. 33, 353, 357, 359, 374‑379, 381, 383, 388, 391 n. 33 & n. 38 Hermes 292, 335 Hesperids 375 Hestia 353, 359 Horos 373 Hydra 376 Hyperboreans 381, 384, 386 Illuyanka 377 Isis 37, 373, 374 Ismaros 370 Kalliope 39 Kelto 375 Kerberos 375‑378 Kikonians 370 Kimmeris Thea 377, 378 Kirke 384 Kore 392 n. 45 Kouretes 372 Kronos 376 Kybele, Mother of the Gods 292, 334, 335, 351, 353, 354, 364 n.  20, 369, 372, 375, 377‑380, 383, 384, 388, 389, 392 n. 43 & n. 50 Kyklops 385, 394 n. 94 Liber 372 Lykos 264 Maron 108, 115 Melqart 377, 391 n. 36 Nike 294 Nymphs 32 Odysseus 39, 108, 370, 376, 384 Oiagros 39 Okeanos 376, 377, 382

Ophion 376 Orpheus 30‑32, 38‑40, 336, 343 n.  9, 370, 372, 374, 391 n. 34 Orthos 375, 376 Osiris 373, 374, 380, 389, 392 n. 43 Pan 295 Papaios 353, 357 Parthenos 297 Pentheus 352, 373 Persephone 32, 39, 371, 373, 379 Pholos 269, 270, 279 n. 33 Pluto 32 Poseidon 124 n. 48, 292, 353 Prometheus 108 Rheia 379, 392 n. 43 Rhesos 39, 40 Salmoxis 39, 40, 42 n. 30, 357, 358, 362, 375, 380, 382, 383, 388 Semele 374, 379 Seth 373, 377 Silenus 372 Skylla 375 Tabiti 353 Targitaos 357 Thagimasadas 353 Thasos 124 n. 48 Thetis 379 Thraētaona 376 Titans 370, 372, 376, 391 n. 24 Trita Āptya 376 Typhon 373, 376, 377 Viśvarūpa 376 Zagreus 31, 32, 369, 372 Zeus 292, 335, 353, 357, 359, 372, 374, 376 3. Ancient proper names Abaris 380, 381, 383, 386, 388, 393 n. 75 Abderitans 119 Abioi 385 Achaemenids 47, 57 Achaioi 19, 20 Agathyrsoi 375

Indices Agrippa 294, 316 Aisepos 338 Alanae 60, 61, 309 Alexander the Great 12 Alkaios 392 n. 50 Ammianus Marcellinus 53, 57 Anacharsis 334, 335, 349‑354, 356, 362, 364 n.  16, 378‑380, 382, 383, 388, 389 Anatolians 12 Antigonos of Karystos 62 n. 32 Antoninus Pius 316 Aorsoi 17, 60, 61 Apolloniates 118 Apollonios 38 Appianos 104 Archaianaktids 15 Archilochos 125 n. 61 Argippaioi 360 Argotes 55 Ariantas 383 Ariapeithes 334, 349, 363 n. 8 Aripharnes 55 Aristeas 380‑383, 386‑388, 392 n. 61 Aristophanes 391 n. 38 Aristophon 344 n. 14 Arrianos 364 n. 11 Artikon 342 Asander 293 Aspourgianoi 19 Aspourgos 294 Assyrians 53, 263 Athenagoras 372, 376 Athenians 117, 119, 339‑341, 344 n. 14, 363, 384, 390 n. 13 Augustus 296, 327 n. 9 Aurelian 316 Babylonians 34 Berenike I 145 Bergaioi 117 Bistonias 101 Bithynians 157, 158 Boranoi 313 Borysthenites 333, 334

409

Bosporans 20, 48, 230 n. 23 Boudinoi 359, 360 Buddha 387 Burebista 48 Byzantines 327 n. 6 Castorius 326 n. 3 Caucasians 160 n. 20 Celts 55, 56, 388 Chalkedonians 158 Christ 32 Claudius 294, 296, 327 n. 9 Commodus 316 Constantine the Great 313 Cretans 372 Dacians 48 Damaskios 372, 376 Dareios 356, 381, 382, 389 Daskylos 264 Demokedes 381, 389 Demokles 31, 38, 335 Demonassa 31, 38, 335 Diodoros 53‑56 Diogenes Laertios 350 Dion Chrysostomos 153, 365 n. 39 Dionysios, son of Leodamas 145 Dionysodoros 336 Diophantos 20, 49, 55, 63 n. 42 Domitian 311, 316 Dorotheos of Tyre 313 Dynamis 293, 294 Egyptians 373, 374 Empedokles 380 Enarees 386 Ephoros 375 Epiphanus of Cyprus 313 Eratosthenes 199 Ethiopians 356, 384, 385 Euboians 107, 123 n. 31 Eudox 62 n. 31 Eumelos 17, 18, 205 Euripides 39, 288, 364 n. 17, 371, 373, 379, 385 Eusebius 156 Faustina 316

410

Indices

Firmicus Maternus 372 Galatai 55 Gatales 54 Gelonoi 359, 360, 373, 375, 388, 394 n. 95 Germans 56 Getai 39, 40, 62 n.  13, 153, 357, 359, 375, 382, 387 Gordian III 316 Goths 299 Greeks 9‑12, 15, 16, 20, 29, 30, 33, 35‑40, 54, 67‑71, 74‑76, 82, 87, 89, 93, 94, 101, 102, 108, 114, 117, 118, 120, 132‑134, 137, 139, 145, 149‑151, 153‑158, 159 n. 3, 215, 221, 228, 238, 253, 263, 278 n.  1, 288, 294, 298, 333, 337, 341‑343, 348‑351, 356‑360, 362, 363, 369, 371, 377, 382, 383, 385‑387 Gyges 264 Gylon 222 Habron 156 Hadrian 316 Hekataios of Sinope 337 Heniochoi 19 Herakleians 158 Herakleides 54, 62 n. 32, 119 Herakleitos 336 Hermippos 382 Herodotos 31, 39, 40, 42 n. 30, 53, 55, 62 n.  31, 108, 111, 263, 264, 288, 333‑335, 348, 349, 352‑356, 358, 359, 362, 363 n.  4 & n.  7, 364 n.  11 & n. 22, 369‑389 Hesiodos 372, 376 Hesychios 377 Histaios 334 Iatrokles 337 Iazyges 19 Idanthyros 359, 362 Indians 387 Ionians 151, 263, 264, 277, 278, 356 Issedonians 381, 384 Jews 33‑35, 37, 38, 42 n. 22

Judas 324 Kallatians 205, 384 Kallisthenos 204 Kambyses 348, 384 Kappadokians 263, 265 Kerketai 16 Kikonians 101, 115 Kimmerians 156, 264, 376, 377, 387, 391 n. 30 Klazomeneians 114 Kleomenes 354, 355, 364 n. 23 Kolchians 132, 134 Koos 156 Kotys I 118 Krateros 231 n. 25 Kretinos 156 Kroisos 386, 389 Kyaxares 362 Kyros the Younger 156 Kyzikenes 378 Lenaiai 336 Lenaios 31, 335, 336 Leonymos 386 Leukon I 16, 160 n. 3 Leukon II 18 Leukosyrians 264 Libyans 155, 160 n. 25, 385 Lukianos 350, 364 n. 12 Lydians 152 Lygdamis 381 Lysimachos 291 Maiotians 55, 56, 63 n. 54 Manes 338 Marcius Plaetorius Celer 313 Mariandynoi 264 Maronites 118, 119 Massagetai 384, 385 Matthias, Apostle 324 Medikes 338 Megabasos 158 Metapontines 381 Milesians 151, 152, 156, 159, 215, 333, 335 Milon 381

Indices Mithridates VI Eupator 19, 20, 291, 293, 299 Mithridates VII 294, 296 Mnesarchus 39 Mossynoikoi 264, 278 n. 11 Myceneans 10 Neoptolemos 20 Nero 296, 306, 307, 311, 316, 327 n. 9 Neuroi 360, 384 Nikolaos of Damaskos 278 n. 6 Nikophon 339 Nymphodoros 119 Odrysians 118, 119, 126 n. 85 Oinotrians 69, 71, 87, 89, 93, 94 Olbians 333, 334, 337‑339, 341, 342, 361, 362 Orentius 324 Orphics 31, 32, 42 n. 26, 336, 369‑371, 376, 380, 383, 385, 389, 390 n.  14, 391 n. 31‑32, 394 n. 3 Ourgoi 19 Ovidius 153, 288 Padaians 384 Pairisades I 16, 18 Pairisades V 19 Palestinians 35 Panyassis 391 n. 26 Parians 114, 115 Parthians 47, 57 Pausanias 31, 383 Peisandros 391 n. 26 Peisistratids 42 n. 26 Peloponnesians 349 Peonians 117 Perikles 339, 349 Persians 47, 54, 57, 117, 152, 263, 326 n. 2, 383 Pharasmanes II, King of Iberia 313 Phateoi 55 Pherekydes 376, 391 n. 27 Philopolis 344 n. 14 Phoenicians 10, 110‑112, 377 Pindar 374, 379 Platon 152, 392 n. 58

411

Plutarchos 339, 348 Polemon 327 n. 18 Polybios 54 Polykrates 380, 381, 389 Pompey 306 Posideos 55, 160 n. 3 Procopius 314 Protogenes 55, 63 n.  42, 160 n.  23, 363 Prytanis 17 Pythagoraeans 37, 369, 380 Pythagoras 39, 40, 336, 358, 380‑383, 389 Rheuxinaloi 55 Romans 102, 294‑300, 304, 313, 319, 327 n. 9, 328 n. 33 Roxolanoi 19 Saians 114 Saioi 55 Saitapharnes 363 Sakas 57, 61, 387 Samians 215, 222 Sapaians 101 Sarmatians 13, 17‑20, 47‑49, 52‑61, 63 n. 41 & n. 54, 291, 299 Sasanians 47 Satarchai 19, 55 Satyros I 16 Satyros II 17 Saudaratai 55 Saulios 378 Saumakos 20 Sauromatians 53‑56, 59‑61, 62 n.  31, n. 32, 63 n. 54 Scythians 10‑17, 19, 20, 31, 38, 53, 55‑58, 62 n. 31, 154, 215, 221, 222, 228, 237‑239, 252‑255, 288, 294, 299, 333‑335, 348‑363, 364 n. 10 & n. 23, 369, 371, 373, 375‑377, 381, 383‑389, 394 n. 83 Seneca 29, 30, 37, 41 n. 1 Septimius Severus 316 Seuthes 119 Sindoi 16

412

Indices

Sinopeans 264, 337 Siraki 60 Sitalkes 118, 119, 126 n. 85 Skilouros 55, 291 Skiroi 55 Skolotai 357 Skyles 38, 41 n.  2, 333‑335, 352‑355, 359, 362, 363 n. 10, 364 n. 10, n. 16, n. 17 & n. 32, 369, 371, 373‑375, 378, 380, 382, 383, 388, 389 Sophronius 313, 324 Spartans 155, 362, 364 n. 23 Spartokids 16 Stephanus Byzantius 62 n. 31 Stesichoros 375, 386 Strabon 53, 54, 61, 263 Syrakoi 17, 18, 55 Syrians 263, 264, 278 n. 4 Syrmatae 54, 58 62 n. 31 Tacitus 294 Taurians 12, 55, 153, 287, 288, 290, 291, 294, 298, 299 Teians 114 Teres 118 Thasians 114, 118, 119 Theraians 155 Thracians 39, 40, 55, 56, 101, 102, 108, 114, 115, 117‑119, 158, 357, 375 Thucydides 339 Tiberenoi 264 Tiberius 296, 311, 316 Timades 265 Timaios 380 Timesikrates 118 Timesileos 337, 339 Titus 308 Tokes 114 Toretoi 16 Trajan 313, 316 Tranquilina 316 Trojans 39 Tymnes 334, 349, 355, 363 n. 8 Vachtang Gorgasali 314 Vespasian 296, 308, 311, 316

Xanthippos 344 n. 14 Xenophon 156‑158 Xerxes 125 n. 78 Yueh-chi 57 Zopyrion 12, 165, 175, 179 Zydritae 313 Zygoi 19 4. Ancient authors Acta sanctorum 5.694‑696: 329 n. 57 Agathias 5.1‑2: 327 n. 6 Aischines Against Ctesiphon 3.171‑172: 222 Fragments fr. 57 (Radt): 379 Alkaios fr. 129.9 (Voigt): 371 fr. 354 (Voigt): 379 Alkidamas Odysseus 24: 374 Anthologia Palatina 6.95.6: 390 n. 7 7.25: 390 n. 6 Antigonos of Karystos Mirabilia CLII 97: 62 n. 31 Ammianus Marcellinus 22.8.24: 314 Apollodoros Bibliotheca 1.3.2: 42 n. 29 2.5.8: 108

Indices 2.5.12: 391 n. 38, n. 39 3.5.1: 379 3.5.3: 379 FGrH 244 F 339: 392 n. 56 Apollonios Rhodios Argonautica 1.24: 42 n. 29 Appianos Bella civilia 4.102: 102 Mithridateios 15.67: 291 64: 20 101: 20 110‑111: 20 Archilochos fr. 2 (West): 124 n. 58, 370 fr. 5 (West): 114 fr. 95‑97a (West): 115,116 Aristeas of Prokonnesos Arimaspeia fr. 5 (Bernabé): 392 n. 61 Aristophanes Acharnenses 704: 385 Ranae 393 n. 66 & n. 74 Aristotle De anima 410b: 370 Politica 1253a: 385 Aristoxenos fr. 16 (Wehrli): 392 n. 56 fr. 18 (Wehrli): 392 n. 57

Arrianos Periplus Maris Euxini 6: 313 7: 313 9: 305, 313 11: 327 n. 26 15: 309 30: 198, 199 40: 314 Aulus Gellius Noctes Atticae 9.1.2: 391 n. 29 Avesta Yašt 5.34: 377 Bakchylides Epinicia 3.57‑60: 386 Dithyrambs fr. 5b.8 (Irigoin): 42 n. 29 Caesar Bellum Gallicum 1.29: 364 n. 36 6.14.5: 388 6.23: 393 n. 82 Demosthenes 34.8: 16 23.110: 119 Diodoros 1.96.6‑9: 391 n. 31 2.43.6‑7: 53 3.65.8: 390 n. 18 4.25.4: 379 4.38.5: 374 5.24: 375 5.28.6: 388 5.52.2: 374

413

414

Indices

12.31.1: 15, 16 20.22‑24: 16, 63 n. 37 Diogenes Laertios 3.4: 392 n. 58 Dion Chrysostomos 36.4‑5: 154 Ephoros FGrH 70 F 134: 376 Eumelos fr. 11 (Bernabé): 379 Euphorion fr. 13 (Powell): 372 Euripides Bacchae 72‑82: 379 133: 373 139: 371 274‑285: 384 735: 373 1127: 373 Cyclops 22, 63‑75, 116, 446, 447, 454, 521, 575, 602, 709: 385 Hercules furens 23: 391 n. 39 611‑613: 391 n. 38 Hippolytus 952‑954: 393 n. 74 Cretes fr. 79 (Austin): 371, 379 Troades 436: 385 Eusebios Praeparatio evangelica 2.2.5: 390 n.18

Eustathios Commentarium in Dionysii periegetae orbis descriptionem 722 & 970: 278 n. 4 Firmicus Maternus De errore profanarum religionum 6: 372 Harpokration Lexicon in decem oratores Atticos 281: 124 n. 48 & n. 58 Hekataios of Miletos FGrH 1 F 26: 391 n. 27 FGrH 1 F 160 & 161: 125 n. 78 FGrH 1 F 200 & 201: 278 n. 14 Hellanikos FGrH 4 F 11: 391 n. 29 FGrH 4 F 73: 40 FGrH 4 F 187b: 393 n. 75 Herakleides Pontikos fr. 51c (Wehrli): 381 Herakleitos fr. 14a (Diels-Kranz): 336 Hermippos fr. 42 (Wehrli): 380 Herodotos 1.29‑33: 389 1.72: 278 n. 3, 362 1.74‑76: 278 n. 14 1.86‑87: 389 1.94.2: 393 n. 62 1.105.4: 386 1.168: 115 1.216: 384, 385 2.3.3: 383 2.43‑45: 377 2.44: 110

Indices 2.47.2: 374 2.48.3: 374, 392 n. 43 2.51.4: 383 2.61.1: 374 2.65.2: 383 2.81: 336, 380, 389 2.86.2: 374 2.123: 380, 389 2.132.2: 374 2.144: 373 2.156: 373 2.170‑171: 374 3.17‑25: 389 3.18: 384 3.22: 364 n. 28, 385 3.24: 384, 385 3.26.6: 384 3.38.4: 384 3.39‑60: 381, 389 3.99: 384 3.115: 382 3.120‑149: 380, 381, 389 4: 10, 12 4.5‑7: 357, 358, 392 n. 61, 393 n. 70 4.8‑10: 357, 375, 388 4.11‑15: 388 4.12: 278 n. 7 4.13‑36: 381 4.17: 352, 363, 385 4.18: 333, 385 4.20‑22: 62 n. 31, 356, 385, 392 n. 61 4.23‑24: 360 4.25.1: 392 n. 61 4.26: 384 4.28: 14 4.36.1: 388, 393 n. 75 4.36.2‑45: 382 4.40: 15 4.46: 348, 351, 352, 362 4.53: 384, 385 4.56: 379 4.59: 353, 357, 359 4.59‑62: 359, 364 n. 22, 383, 384 4.66: 364 n. 22

415

4.67.2: 386 4.70: 364 n. 22 4.72: 387 4.73‑75: 386, 388 4.76‑77: 334, 349‑351, 362, 365 n.  38, 378, 388, 389 4.78‑80: 38, 41 n. 2, 333, 334, 353, 369, 371, 374, 384, 388 4.81: 383 4.85: 160 n. 5 4.87: 382 4.93‑96: 39, 40, 358, 375, 382, 383, 388 4.99: 288 4.105‑106: 360, 384 4.108‑109: 359, 360, 373 4.116: 62 n. 31 4.123‑127: 359, 385 4.142: 356 4.144: 158 4.150‑158: 155 4.186.1: 385 5.3: 105 5.12‑16: 117 5.42: 155 5.44‑45: 381 6.47: 110, 124 n. 48 6.48: 117 6.84: 364 n. 23 7.59: 115, 117, 125 n. 78 7.108: 115, 117, 125 n. 78 7.110: 101 9.65.2: 383 Hesiod Opera et Dies 135‑136: 394 n. 94 146‑147: 393 n. 79 Theogonia 270‑336: 376 287: 375 304: 377 857: 391 n. 35 940‑942: 379

416

Indices

Catalogus Mulierum fr. 150.15 (Merkelbach-West): 385 fr. 238 (Merkelbach-West): 370

Hyginos Fabulae 14: 42 n. 29

Hesychios s.v. γεφυρίς & γεφυρισταί: 393 n. 67 s.v. Κιμμερὶς θεά: 391 n. 37

Hymni Orphici 30.5: 371 34.7: 380 44.7: 390 n.18 45: 390 n.18 52.8: 390 n.18 52.10: 380 53.4: 390 n.18 54.3: 390 n.18

Hieronymus of Rhodes fr. 42 (Wehrli): 380 Hippokrates De Aeris, aquis, locis 25: 62 n. 31 Hippolytos Refutatio omnium haeresium 18: 385, 386 Homer Iliad 1.3‑4: 376 2.457: 391 n. 35 2.783: 377 10.432‑502: 39 10.970‑971: 39 13.5: 385 Odyssey 2.846: 101 9.39: 370 9.39‑55: 108 9.190‑191: 393 n. 79 9.196‑197: 370 9.196‑201: 108 9.275‑276: 394 n. 94 10.504‑516: 393 n. 66 11.14: 376 11.15: 391 n. 30 11.601‑626: 376 12.260‑402: 384 15.419‑420: 110 24: 391 n. 31

Hymnus Homericus ad Apollinem 340: 391 n. 35 Hymnus Homericus ad Bacchum 1.11: 373 Iamblichos Vita Pythagorae 19.90‑91: 381 248‑252: 392 n. 57 Isokrates Panegyricus 28‑29: 384, 393 n. 79 Josephus Bellum Judaicum 7.220‑222 & 230‑233: 310 Justinian Novellae 31: 314, 327 n. 6 Kallimachos fr. 643 (Pfeiffer): 372 Konon FGrH 26 F 1, 18: 386

Indices New Testament Gospel of Matthew 7.13‑14, 16, 18: 32 22.14: 390 n.14 Book of Revelation 1.18: 32 Nonnos Dionysiaca 13.430: 42 n. 29 19.133: 390 n. 6 Notitia dignitatum 38: 314, 328 n. 36 Orphica fr. 27 (Kern): 370 fr. 54 (Kern): 376 fr. 57 (Kern): 376 fr. 209 (Kern): 370 fr. 214 (Kern): 372 fr. 224b.1‑2 (Kern): 390 n. 7 fr. 229 (Kern): 390 n. 7 fr. 245 (Kern): 374 fr. 247 (Kern): 374 fr. 334 (Kern): 374 Ovid Epistulae ex Ponto 4.10.25‑30: 160 n. 20 Parthenios Narrationes amatoriae 30: 375 Pausanias 3.19.11‑13: 386 3.25.5: 391 n. 399 5.20.3: 32 30.1: 42 n. 29 Periplus Anonymus 76: 198, 199

Peutinger Table 10.4: 305, 326 n. 3 Pherekydes fr. 18b (Fowler): 391 n. 27 Philochoros FGrH 328 F 43: 124 n. 58 Philostratos Imagines 2.25.1‑2: 108 Pindar Nemean Odes 4.49‑50: 379 Olympian Odes 2.16‑17: 391 n. 32 2.25‑26: 374 2.71‑80: 379 2.84‑86: 374 Fragments fr. 52b.59‑80 (Snell-Mahler): 115 fr. 70b.6‑11 (Snell-Maehler): 379 fr. 93 (Snell-Maehler): 377 fr. 133 (Snell-Maehler): 390 n. 20 fr. 128c (Snell-Maehler): 42 n. 29 fr. 346 (Snell-Maehler): 391 n. 38 Plato Leges 637e: 364 n. 23 782c: 393 n. 74 Phaedo 69c: 390 n. 14 109b: 160 n. 18 Symposium 218b: 374 Pliny the Elder Naturalis historia 4.85: 287, 288 4.93: 392 n. 49 6.3: 278 n. 4

417

418 6.9: 278 n. 14 6.12: 311 Plutarchos De Iside et Osiride 365a: 380 Polybios 4.38.1: 364 n. 11 4.46: 160 n. 30 25.2.12‑13: 63 n. 33 Porphyry Vita Plotini 28: 381 Prokopios De bello Gothico 8.16.16‑17: 326 n. 2 8.2.10‑20: 328 n. 38 8.2.12‑14: 314 De aedificiis passim: 314 Pseudo-Skylax 68 & 70: 62 n. 31 Pseudo-Skymnos 956‑959: 278 n. 13 986: 278 n. 10 986‑997: 156 998‑1000: 160 n. 4 1016‑1017: 278 n. 12 Rig Veda 10.8: 376 10.48: 376 Seneca Ad Helviam 7.1.3‑5: 29 De beneficiis 4.8.1: 376

Indices Scholia in Apollonium Rhodium 184 ad 2.724: 278 n. 9 185‑186 ad 2.752: 278 n. 9 Scholia in Clementis Alexandrini Protrepticum p. 318 (Stählin): 390 n.20 Scholia in Iliadem 8.479 (Dindorf): 376 Scholia in Lycophronem 46: 375 Scholia in Odysseam 11.385: 391 n. 31 Scholia in Pindarum Ol. 2.109‑149: 392 n. 49 Solinus Collectanea 10.10: 112 Stesichoros fr. 184 (Davies): 375 fr. S17 (Davies): 375 Stephanos of Byzantion s.v. Ἄβδηρα: 108 s.v. Ἀψύρτιδες: 314 s.v. Μάσταυρα: 392 n. 43 Strabon 2.1.16: 20 7.3.17: 63 n. 36 7.3.18: 20 7.4.4: 211 7.4.5: 18 7.4.6: 160 n. 24 7.6.1: 104 7.43: 102 9.1.24: 393 n. 67 11.2.17: 160 n. 5

Indices 11.2.18: 327 n. 9 12.3.3: 279 n. 34 12.3.4: 278 n. 12 & n. 15 16.737: 278 n. 4

Virgil Aeneid 6: 376 8.185‑275: 376

Suda s.v. Ἡρόδοτος: 392 n. 59

Xenophon Anabasis 5.5: 278 n. 11 6.2.1: 160 n. 5 6.2.2: 391 n. 39 6.4.1‑6: 157 6.4.2: 160 n. 5 6.63‑64: 158 7.3: 119 Hellenica 6.3.6: 384

Suetonius Divus Vespasianus 8.4: 310 Nero 18: 310, 327 n. 9 Tacitus Annales 2.6: 310 Historiae 2.32: 327 n 13 3.47: 310 Terpandros fr. 15: 42 n. 29 Thukydides 2.29: 119 2.38: 390 n. 13 2.97: 126 n. 85 4.75.1‑2: 345 n. 27 Timaios FGrH 566 F 131: 380 Timotheus fr. 791 (Page): 42 n. 29 Tragica Adespota fr. 221 (Nauck): 391 n. 37 Varro De re rustica 2.1.9: 391 n. 29

419

Zosimos 1.31‑33: 313, 328 n. 31 2.33: 313 5. Inscriptions ATL 2.A9: 231 n. 25 1, 527‑528: 231 n. 25 3, 116‑117: 231 n. 25 CIRB 22: 392 n. 50 31: 392 n. 50 35: 392 n. 50 75: 392 n. 50 117: 370 119: 370 121: 370 971: 392 n. 50 1111: 392 n. 50 1315: 392 n. 50 L.

Dubios, Inscriptions grecques dialectales d’Olbia du Pont 1: 344 n. 13 2: 336, 343 n. 7 5: 344 n. 13, 345 n. 25

420

Indices

6: 345 n. 24 15: 345 n. 30 21: 344 n. 14 23: 345 n. 33 25: 345 n. 33 58: 392 n. 50 81: 378, 392 n. 50 92: 343 n. 6, 390 n. 4 93: 343 n. 11, 380, 394 n. 3 94a & c: 343 n. 8 95: 343 n. 11 F. Graf & S.I. Johnston, Ritual Texts for the Afterlife 1: 370 4: 379 5‑7: 373, 374, 390 n. 7 26a-b: 371 27: 373 IC 1.23.3: 379 IDelos 71: 344 n. 20 IG I³, 37: 392 n. 50 I³, 77 V.27‑31: 125 n. 82 I³, 1454: 392 n. 50 I³, 1491‑1495: 392 n. 50 IX.2, 257: 344 n. 20 ILS 2660: 313 IOSPE I², 32: 63 n. 42 & n. 43, 160 n. 23 I², 326: 392 n. 50 I², 343: 63 n. 41 I², 352: 20, 63 n. 42 & n. 49 I², 353: 63 n. 41

I2, 671‑672: 160 n. 3 II, 1: 345 n. 23 LSAM 48: 371, 390 n. 19 R. Meiggs & D.M Lewis, Greek Historical Inscriptions 69: 345 n. 27 P.J. Rhodes & R.G. Osborne, Greek Historical Inscriptions 25: 345 n. 29 SEG XII, 274: 392 n. 50 XXIII, 415: 344 n. 20 XXIII, 422: 344 n. 20 XXVIII, 659: 369 XXVIII, 660: 370 XXVIII, 661: 370 XXX, 800: 364 n. 32 XXX, 869: 392 n. 50 XXX, 933: 370 XXX, 958: 343 n. 7 XXXVI, 694: 32, 41 n. 6, 380, 394 n. 3 XLII, 710: 378 SIG³ 4: 344 n. 19 55: 344 n. 20 Tit.Calymnii 108‑110: 392 n. 50 M.N. Tod, Greek Historical Inscriptions II 112: 345 n. 28 Papyri Derveni papyrus, col. IV: 374

Contributors

Peter Attema Department of Classical and Mediterranean Archaeology University of Groningen Poststraat 6 9712 ER Groningen The Netherlands E-mail: [email protected]

Alexander V. Gavrilov Institute of Archaeology National Academy of Science of Ukraine, Crimean branch, Simferopol Vernadsky prospect, 2 95007 Simferopol, Crimea, Ukraine Е-mail: [email protected]

Alexandre Baralis The French Institute of Anatolian studies Palais de France Nuru Ziya Sokak, 10 P.K. 54 – 34433 Beyoglu Istanbul Turkey E-mail: [email protected]

George Hinge Department of Classical Philology University of Aarhus Jens Chr. Skous Vej 5 Building 1463 DK-8000 Aarhus C Denmark E-mail: [email protected]

Pia Guldager Bilde Danish National Research Foundation’s Centre for Black Sea Studies University of Aarhus Jens Chr. Skous Vej 3 Building 1451 DK-8000 Aarhus C Denmark E-mail: [email protected]

Jakob Munk Højte Danish National Research Foundation’s Centre for Black Sea Studies University of Aarhus Jens Chr. Skous Vej 3 Building 1451 DK-8000 Aarhus C Denmark E-mail: [email protected]

David Braund University of Exeter Department of Classics & Ancient History Amory Building, Rennes Drive, Exeter, EX4 4RJ United Kingdom E-mail: [email protected]

Amiran Kakhidze Batumi Archaeological Museum 77 Chavchavadze Str., Batumi, 6010 Georgia E-mail: [email protected]

Nadježda A. Gavriljuk Institute of Archaeology National Academy of Sciences, Kiev Geroev Stalingrada av., 12. 04210 Kyiv Ukraine E-mail: [email protected]

Emzar Kakhidze Department of History The Niko Berdzenishvili Research Institute Georgian Academy of Sciences, Batumi 23 Ninoshvili Str., Batumi 6010 Georgia E-mail: [email protected]

422

Contributors

Alexander V. Karjaka Danish National Research Foundation’s Centre for Black Sea Studies University of Aarhus Jens Chr. Skous Vej 3 Building 1451 DK-8000 Aarhus C Denmark E-mail: [email protected]

Tatiana N. Smekalova Danish National Research Foundation’s Centre for Black Sea Studies University of Aarhus Jens Chr. Skous Vej 3 Building 1451 DK-8000 Aarhus C Denmark E-mail: [email protected]

Valentina I. Mordvintseva Institute of Archaeology National Academy of Science of Ukraine, Crimean branch, Simferopol ul. Jaltinskaja 2 95007 Simferopol Ukraine E-mail: [email protected]

Latife Summerer Institute of Classical Archaeology University of Munich Meiserstr. 10 80333 München Germany E-mail: [email protected]

Natalia G. Novičenkova Crimean Humanitarian University, Jalta Sadovaja, h. 23, f.6 98600 Jalta, Crimea Ukraine E-mail: [email protected]

Michael Vickers Department of Antiquities Ashmolean Museum Beaumont Street Oxford, OX1 2PH United Kingdom E-mail: [email protected]

Robin Osborne Faculty of Classics University of Cambridge Sidgwick Ave Cambridge, CB3 9DA United Kingdom E-mail: [email protected] Jane Hjarl Petersen Danish National Research Foundation’s Centre for Black Sea Studies University of Aarhus Jens Chr. Skous Vej 3 Building 1451 DK-8000 Aarhus C Denmark E-mail: [email protected]

Jurij A. Vinogradov Institute of the Study of Material Culture Academy of Sciences, St Petersburg Dvortzovaya nab. 18 191186 St. Petersburg Russia E-mail: [email protected]