Sophocles’ Trachiniae and the Peloponnesian War: A New Perspective

Andreas P. Antonopoulos

Note: The topic of this chapter resulted from a stimulating discussion on the play that I had with Christos Zafiropoulos. I would like to thank him, as well as Jim Andrews for their comments on my earlier draft. I am also grateful to Menelaos Christopoulos and Athina Papachrysostomou for inviting me to co-edit the present volume.

Abstract

In the human past myth has often functioned as a means of historical allegory. This is true of so many ancient cultures and peoples, and especially of the Greeks. Greek theatre was no exception to this process. In addition to immediate references to contemporary politics in comedies, it is very likely that also the mythological stock of tragedies was aptly adjusted to include, in disguise, allusions to historical events. The present chapter investigates potential historical allegories in Sophocles’ Trachiniae, attempting at the same time to shed light to the problem of this play’s dating. The author reinforces Vicker’s hypothesis for a link of the play with military events of 426 BC in the area of Trachis. He also adduces contemporary developments at the opposite end of Central Greece, in Aetolia and Acarnania, which likewise seem of great relevance to the Trachiniae. The combined allusions point to a production of the play shortly after 426 BC.

Introduction

The allegorical reference of Athenian drama to the affairs of the polis and its relation to the reception of political developments and historical events by the audience is a subject well attested for Old comedy. But it is also relevant to tragedy. The dialectical relation of Athenian tragedy to the ideological, notional, as well as sociopolitical synchronicity of the Athenian democratic polis, particularly so regarding specific events and tragic allusions or even standpoints to them, has been a recurrent subject in scholarship on tragedy and an omnipresent chapter in every modern Companion on Athenian drama and tragedy.1 Nevertheless, similar readings on the allusive or allegorical references and contemplation of tragic myth upon specific (recent) historical events, political, military and so on have always been seen by scholars as an intriguing, yet precarious research field.2 And to some extent rightly so, given the poetics and the didactic objective of tragic logos, which is thought to have aimed for timelessness and superintendency towards human experience. On the other hand, however, scholars express no such concerns with respect to the reception of Greek tragedy and its use as a vehicle to allude or even make a point on contemporary historical events.3 At the same time, it is now generally agreed that (putting the case of historical tragedies aside and tragic depictions of oikeia kaka) the mythological stock of certain plays was aptly adjusted to include, in disguise, allusions – more or less perspicuous – to historical events; for instance, Aeschylus’ Oresteia has been connected to Ephialtes’ reforms and murder (461 BC), and Euripides’ Troades to the massacre at Melus (416 BC). With these points in mind, it seems justified to attempt such readings of tragic plays in general. It is hard to accept that the collective body of citizens-spectators would expect and welcome such allusions in comedy, but not in tragedy; or that such a body of citizens, fully engaged in political debate and decision making all over the year – in a way, even during the comic performances in the festivals – would expunge from the tragic logos allusive references to historical synchronicity.

It is from such a perspective of allusive references by the tragedian to historical events that this study will attempt a reading of Sophocles’ Trachiniae. In particular, Michael Vickers, in his substantial article on the ‘political dimensions’ of the play,4 has proposed to date it to 424 BC, linking it with the (then) recent foundation of a Spartan colony in Trachis in 426 BC. In the present chapter, I will attempt to add to his hypothesis by focusing on contemporary events, not only in Trachis, but also at the opposite end of Central Greece, in Aetolia, and Acarnania.

The Issue of Dating

The dating of the play has been labelled by Easterling as “one of the most notorious problems in Sophoclean scholarship”,5 and rightly so. The production of the play is not recorded in the didascalic inscriptions, nor is there any other external information about it. This has led scholars to various speculations based on internal evidence from the play. First of all, there are those who have attempted to date the Trachiniae on the basis of Sophoclean dramaturgic and stylistic criteria, that is, comparing it with his other surviving plays.6 But all these attempts seem to be condemned to failure ab initio. From the reported 123 plays written by Sophocles,7 apart from the Trachiniae only six other tragedies survive in full. Thus, we have at our disposal only c. 8% of the poet’s total output, and what is more, the dates of these plays are unknown with the exception of the Philoctetes (409 BC)8 and the Oedipus Coloneus (written in the poet’s last years and staged posthumously, in 401 BC).9 Thus, any assumption involving other Sophoclean plays is unwarrantable.

Others have opted to compare the Trachiniae to plays by Aeschylus and Euripides. Again here lies the issue of a very small sample to yield satisfactory results for similarities in the dramatic technique. As for comparative readings with regard to subjects and motifs, although these rival poets constantly influenced one another, it is difficult to detect who has been the source for a certain element and who the imitator. More promising in this respect has been the linguistic analysis. Webster10 has confidently spotted allusions of the Trachiniae to the Oresteia, which was produced in 458 BC. The metaphorical description of the fatal robe sent to Heracles by Deianeira as a ‘net’ at lines 1051–1052 (Ἐρινύων ὑφαντὸν ἀμφίβληστρον), calls to mind Aeschylus’ Agamemnon 1382 ἄπειρον ἀμφίβληστρον and 1580 ὑφαντοῖς ἐν πέπλοις Ἐρινύων. Likewise, the reference to it as a ‘fetter’ at 1057 (ἀφράστῳ τῇδε χειρωθεὶς πέδῃ), resembles Choephoroe 493 πέδαις γ’ ἀχαλκεύτοισι θηρευθείς and 982 πέδας τε χειροῖν καὶ ποδοῖν ξυνωρίδος. But even so, such similarities to the Oresteia, present us with a terminus post quem that stands very early in Sophocles’ career, leaving almost half a century (!) as a potential timeframe for the Trachiniae.

Finally, there are those scholars who have attempted to spot historical allusions in the Trachiniae. For instance, Ronnet11 linked the play with the Athenian campaign against Thasus in the late 460’s BC;12 Hommel13 with Pericles’ crash of the revolt in Euboea in 446–445;14 Campbell15 with the Peace of Nicias in 42116 and others with other events, but most of these attempts have failed to provide convincing arguments and therefore have remained highly speculative as regards their grounding on the content of the play. An exception to this is Vickers,17 who has made an appealing connection of the play to events of 426 BC.

The Trachiniae and Heraclea in Trachis

Vickers points out that the setting of a play about Heracles in Trachis, a settlement on the eastern coast of central Greece, overlooking the Malian Gulf and Thermopylae, must have been related to the foundation of the Spartan colony of Heraclea in Trachis (Ἡράκλεια ἡ ἐν Τραχῖνι) in the summer of 426 BC. Detailed information on these events is provided by Thucydides 3.92–93. The Trachinians had suffered a lot in their war with their neighbours, the Oeteans. As they distrusted the Athenians, they sent an embassy for help to Sparta; they were joined by the neighbouring Dorians, who were likewise having problems with the Oeteans. The Spartans seized the opportunity to establish a colony in the area, thinking that the strategic location of the new city (four miles from Thermopylae and a little more than two from the Malian Gulf; see Fig. 1) would help them in their war against the Athenians. They could easily build a fleet there and attack nearby Euboea (the Athenians had sent their livestock animals there in 431 BC at the eve of the war),18 and the spot was likewise convenient as a transit for Spartan troops heading to Chalcidice. The colony, which was given the name ‘Heraclea’, was led by three Spartans, Leon, Alcidas and Damagon. They built walls for the new city and also constructed docks at the nearby seafront. Encouraged by the presence of the Spartans, many people both from the neighbouring cities and from all over the Greek world rushed into Heraclea. Naturally, the setting up of this colony caused great alarm to the Athenians, who realised that the project was a great threat to Euboea. Nevertheless, the Spartan endeavour proved short-lived and failed for two reasons: the settlers were constantly raided and eventually worn out by the Thessalians, and in addition, they suffered internally from the severe and unjust administration of the Spartan governors.

(© Brill’s New Pauly, Volume 10 [2007] 705–706).

Fig. 1: Map showing Athenian and Spartan activities during the Peloponnesian War, 431–404 BC.

Before Sophocles, an explicit mention of Trachis in the myth of Heracles is briefly made in the pseudo-Hesiodic Aspis (see esp. lines 353–354 and 469–470). There, Heracles, accompanied by his charioteer Iolaus, is travelling to Trachis to visit the local king Ceyx. On the way Heracles accepts a battle challenge by Cycnus and eventually kills him. The poem concludes with the hero reaching Trachis. No information is given as to the purpose of his stay and there is no mention of Deianeira in the poem. Although one cannot exclude the existence of some other, more detailed account of the story which did not survive, it seems that Sophocles took a secondary and less-known episode from Heracles’ legend and made Trachis the centre of action of his play. This choice could be due to Sophocles’ particular mythological taste; he is generally credited as the tragedian who put together and organised the various myths referring to the final years and the death of Heracles – actually, the Trachiniae is our main source for these events.19 However, the matter calls for further examination.

The play opens with Deianeira, who explains that after Heracles’ murder of Iphitus, their family had to leave home and came to live in Trachis as guests of ‘a foreign friend’ (i.e. Ceyx) (Trach. 38–40):

ἐξ οὗ γὰρ ἔκτα κεῖνος Ἰφίτου βίαν,

ἡμεῖς μὲν ἐν Τραχῖνι τῇδ’ ἀνάστατοι

ξένῳ παρ’ ἀνδρὶ ναίομεν … 40

For since he killed the mighty Iphitus

we have been uprooted and have lived here in Trachis

with a foreign friend …20 40

The important difference with the Aspis is that here Heracles has established his household in Trachis, as had done the colonists of Heraclea in Trachis, the Spartans and their allies, who had voluntarily become ἀνάστατοι21 so as to colonise the new city. Further references to Trachis in the play are found in lines 371–372 (πρὸς μέσῃ Τραχινίων / ἀγορᾷ), 423–424 (ἐν μέσῃ Τραχινίων / ἀγορᾷ)22 and 1140 (καὶ τίς τοσοῦτος φαρμακεὺς Τραχινίων;). Most importantly, the city’s name has been emphatically put in the play’s title (Τραχίνιαι), referring to the chorus of the ‘Women of Trachis’, who nevertheless do not play an active role in the plot.

It is also important that already at the beginning of the play, Heracles is waging war against Euboea, as Hyllus informs in lines 74–75:

Εὐβοῖδα χώραν φασίν, Εὐρύτου πόλιν,

ἐπιστρατεύειν αὐτόν, ἢ μέλλειν ἔτι. 75

They say he is marching against a place in Euboea,

the city of Eurytus, or is about to do so. 75

The story of the Heracles’ Euboean campaign was already known from the (lost) epic Sack of Oechalia. But its combination with Trachis in Sophocles’ play (whether invented by him, or pre-existing) must not have been incidental. Heracles has established a base at the city and from there he has gone to invade the island, exactly as the Spartans would have been expected to do from their colony of Heraclea in Trachis and from the docks they built at the Malian Gulf. The proximity to Euboea was one of the reasons they founded the colony in the first place and a potential invasion of the island by them had frightened the Athenians “because (from there) the passage to Cenaeum of Euboea is short” (ὅτι βραχύς ἐστιν ὁ διάπλους πρὸς τὸ Κήναιον τῆς Εὐβοίας, Thuc. 3.93.1). Interestingly, in the Trachiniae Lichas23 tells Deianeira that Heracles is sacrificing to Zeus at Cape Cenaeum upon his successful conquest of the city of king Eurytus (Trach. 237–241):

ΛΙ. ἀκτή τις ἔστ’ Εὐβοιίς, ἔνθ’ ὁρίζεται

βωμοὺς τέλη τ’ ἔγκαρπα Κηναίῳ Διί.

ΔΗ. εὐκταῖα φαίνων, ἢ ’πὸ μαντείας τινός;

ΛΙ. εὐχαῖς, ὅθ’ ᾕρει τῶνδ’ ἀνάστατον δορὶ 240

χώραν γυναικῶν ὧν ὁρᾷς ἐν ὄμμασιν.

LI. There is a cape in Euboea where he is marking off

altars and offering due first fruits to Zeus of Mount Cenaeum.

DEI. Revealing his fulfillment of a vow, or because of some prophet’s words?

LI. Because of a vow, since he had conquered and devastated 240

the land of these women whom you see with your own eyes.

It seems as if Sophocles is projecting in his play all the fears inspired in the Athenians by the Spartan activity in eastern mainland Greece and, moreover, in an area not far from Attica. Especially telling is Lichas’ vivid description of the destruction brought by Heracles upon Oechalia and its inhabitants – death for the men, enslavement for the city, captivity for the women (Trach. 281–285):

κεῖνοι δ’ ὑπερχλίοντες ἐκ γλώσσης κακῆς

αὐτοὶ μὲν Ἅιδου πάντες εἰσ’ οἰκήτορες,

πόλις δὲ δούλη· τάσδε δ’ ἅσπερ εἰσορᾷς

ἐξ ὀλβίων ἄζηλον εὑροῦσαι βίον

χωροῦσι πρὸς σε …

They in the arrogance fed by their evil speech

now all inhabit Hades,

and their city is enslaved; and these women whom you see

come to you, having exchanged their good fortune

for an unenviable life …

This information and the sight of the captive women fills Deianeira with sentiments of pity, which she shares with the Chorus (Trach. 298–306):

ἐμοὶ γὰρ οἶκτος δεινὸς εἰσέβη, φίλαι,

ταύτας ὁρώσῃ δυσπότμους ἐπὶ ξένης

χώρας ἀοίκους ἀπάτοράς τ’ ἀλωμένας, 300

αἳ πρὶν μὲν ἦσαν ἐξ ἐλευθέρων ἴσως

ἀνδρῶν, τανῦν δὲ δοῦλον ἴσχουσιν βίον …

οὕτως ἐγὼ δέδοικα τάσδ’ ὁρωμένη.

Yes, a strange pity comes upon me, dear women,

when I see these unhappy ones

homeless and fatherless, astray in a foreign land; 300

perhaps they were formerly the children of free

men, but now their life is one of slavery …

Such is my fear as I look upon these women.

The above fearsome and pitiful descriptions could well have functioned as a warning by Sophocles on the fate awaiting the Euboean allies and, perhaps, later even the Athenians themselves, if the Spartans won the (Peloponnesian) war. This way the poet would also have made a subtle call to his fellow citizens for immediate action against the Spartans.

Probably relevant with this is the very negative portrayal in the play of Heracles, the mythical ancestor of the Spartans.24 He is unsympathetic, treacherous, ferocious and dangerous for anyone that comes near him. The opposite of a cultural champion and a paradigm of virtue, he is overcome with erotic passion and has devastated an entire city, when Iole’s father, Eurytus, refused to hand her over to him as a mistress. And then he deceived his own wife, sending to their oikos a pallakis disguised as a slave-servant. The Messenger’s words in lines 352–368 are enlightening, not only Deianeira, but also the spectators, on the true motives and character of Heracles:

… τῆς κόρης

ταύτης ἕκατι κεῖνος Εὔρυτόν θ’ ἕλοι

τήν θ’ ὑψίπυργον Οἰχαλίαν, Ἔρως δέ νιν

μόνος θεῶν θέλξειεν αἰχμάσαι τάδε 355

οὐ τἀπὶ Λυδοῖς οὐδ’ ὑπ’ Ὀμφάλῃ πόνων

λατρεύματ’, οὐδ’ ὁ ῥιπτὸς Ἰφίτου μόρος·

ὃν νῦν παρώσας οὗτος ἔμπαλιν λέγει.

ἀλλ’ ἡνίκ’ οὐκ ἔπειθε τὸν φυτοσπόρον

τὴν παῖδα δοῦναι, κρύφιον ὡς ἔχοι λέχος, 360

ἔγκλημα μικρὸν αἰτίαν θ’ ἑτοιμάσας

ἐπιστρατεύει πατρίδα …

… τῆσδε καὶ πόλιν

ἔπερσε. καὶ νῦν, ὡς ὁρᾷς, ἥκει δόμους 365

ἐς τούσδε πέμπων οὐκ ἀφροντίστως, γύναι,

οὐδ’ ὥστε δούλην· μηδὲ προσδόκα τόδε·

οὐδ’ εἰκός, εἴπερ ἐντεθέρμανται πόθῳ.

… it was on account

of this girl that Heracles brought down Eurytus

and the high towers of Oechalia, and that it was Eros

alone among the gods that bewitched him into this deed of arms, 355

not the doings among the Lydians or his servitude under Omphale

or Iphitus, hurled to his death.

And now he pushes this story aside and tells a different one!

No, when he failed to persuade her father

to give him his daughter, to have as his secret love, 360

he trumped up a petty accusation and a pretext,

and marched against her country …

… and sacked the city.

And now, as you see, he has come back, 365

sending her not without forethought, lady,

or as a slave; do not expect that,

nor is it likely, if indeed he is inflamed with desire.

The denouncement of the favourite Dorian hero and, what is more, the eponymous hero of the new colony (Heraclea) as a person entirely governed by his own passions, at the same time as reinforcing negative stereotypes for Heracles in the midst of the Peloponnesian War, might have also served as a mockery to the Spartans and their own conservative and moderate stance to life. In addition, the stress on Heracles’ lies to Deianeira may have called to mind the deceptive character of the Spartans.25

Εven Lichas, who had earlier attempted to provide a quasi-noble excuse for the actions of Heracles (according to him the whole thing started from an insult by Eurytus), admitted that the enraged hero killed Iphytus, Eurytus’ son, with trickery26 (δόλῳ, 277): when Iphytus was not looking, Heracles threw him down from a cliff. This shameful deed led to his enslavement to Omphale, a barbarian queen, as a punishment from Zeus (248–278).

Lastly, in his final moments, when he is in terrible pain, Heracles brutally kills his own companion, upon learning that it was Lichas that brought him the fatal chiton. The poor man was completely ignorant of the effect of Deianeira’s gift, but that did not stop Heracles from smashing his head. Hyllus gives his mother a very realistic account of this event, which would have filled the spectators with both pity and horror27 (Trach. 772–784):

ἐνταῦθα δὴ ’βόησε τὸν δυσδαίμονα

Λίχαν, τὸν οὐδὲν αἴτιον τοῦ σοῦ κακοῦ,

ποίαις ἐνέγκοι τόνδε μηχαναῖς πέπλον·

ὁ δ’ οὐδὲν εἰδὼς δύσμορος τὸ σὸν μόνης 775

δώρημ’ ἔλεξεν, ὥσπερ ἦν ἐσταλμένον.

κἀκεῖνος ὡς ἤκουσε καὶ διώδυνος

σπαραγμὸς αὐτοῦ πλευμόνων ἀνθήψατο,

μάρψας ποδός νιν, ἄρθρον ᾗ λυγίζεται,

ῥίπτει πρὸς ἀμφίκλυστον ἐκ πόντου πέτραν· 780

κόμης δὲ λευκὸν μυελὸν ἐκραίνει, μέσου

κρατὸς διασπαρέντος αἵματός θ’ ὁμοῦ.

ἅπας δ’ ἀνηυφήμησεν οἰμωγῇ λεώς,

τοῦ μὲν νοσοῦντος, τοῦ δὲ διαπεπραγμένου.

Next he shouted at the unhappy

Lichas, who was in no way guilty of your crime,

asking him through what scheme he had brought the robe.

And Lichas, who knew nothing, poor fellow, told him 775

that was your gift alone, as he had been instructed.

When Heracles heard it, and an agonising

convulsion laid hold of his lungs,

he seized him by the foot, where the ankle plays in the socket,

and hurled him onto the seaswept rock; 780

and the white brains poured out from his hair,

as his head was shattered.

And the whole people broke the silence with a cry

at the sickness of the one and the undoing of the other.

On a first level, the Messenger and Hyllus opened the eyes of Deianeira on the true nature of Heracles. On a second, allusive level, the poet opened the eyes of his fellow Athenians on the true nature of the Spartans, who had named their colony in Trachis (Heraclea) after their favourite hero: they are unjust, cruel and treacherous, a constant threat, and not to be trusted, even by their friends. This last trait may have functioned as propaganda directed at the allies of Spartans. And it notably accords with Thucydides’ narrative of the events, namely that even the settlers of Heraclea were frightened away by the severe and unjust treatment of the Spartan administrators.28 If this was indeed their reaction, it would be reasonable for an Athenian dramatist to exploit it on the grand propagandistic platform that the tragic stage provided. The play was apparently staged in the Great Dionysia,29 at a time of the year (end of March to beginning of April) when Athens had many foreign visitors, several of whom would have attended the theatrical performances.

Based on the above (potential) allusions Vickers has proposed that the play was performed at the Great Dionysia of 424 BC.30 He additionally associates Heracles’ service to the Lydian queen Omphale in the play (together with the accompanying phraseology) with the capture of a certain Persian named Artaphernes a few months earlier (winter of 425–424 BC), which revealed that the Spartans were secretly negotiating with the Great King.31 Such allusion might be possible, but it is not needed so as to date the play in 424 BC. Thucydides places the foundation of Heraclea in Trachis at the end of the summer (namely of the campaigning season) of 426 BC, ‘about the same time’ as Nicias’ return from Locris (3.92.1). Sophocles could not have reflected on these events in the Dionysia of 425 BC, for if he had participated in the tragic contest of that year, he would have already written his play a few months earlier than these events.32 Instead, if its production took place in the following year, Athenian alarm at the new colony would have been still fresh enough for the allusion to be effective. But probably not in the year after, namely 423 BC. Thucydides notes that the Athenians “were at first afraid” (τὸ πρῶτον ἔδεισαν), “but afterwards it fell out otherwise than they imagined” (ἔπειτα μέντοι παρὰ δόξαν αὐτοῖς ἀπέβη): the Spartan initiative soon faded away as a result of the Thessalian attacks and internal problems (3.93.1–2). All things considered, the Great Dionysia of 424 BC seems indeed the most likely venue for the Trachiniae. However, from the same interpretive viewpoint, the play may also be pointing to another geographical area and the war events that took place there during the same period.

The Trachiniae and the Events in Western Greece

The Trachiniae open with a narrative transposition of the myth to Aetolia, on the west coast of central Greece and effectively the antipode of the Malian Gulf. Even though all the following dramatic action takes place in Trachis, the past events in Pleuron, where Heracles first met Deianeira, form its background in the Prologue.

Although most of the surviving tragedies of Sophocles open with dialogue, the Trachiniae begin with a formal monologue by Deianeira explaining what has happened so far. She is an Aetolian, the daughter of the king of Pleuron, Oeneus. While she was still living in the palace of her father, she had to endure a most horrible courtship to a river-monster, Achelous. Luckily, Heracles saved her from this suitor and took her as his bride. Ever since she has lived a life full of agony, as Heracles spends most of the time away from home, caught up in various adventures. The uniqueness of this prologue, which is reminiscent of Euripidean ones (e.g. of the Phoenissae), has been noted.33 Easterling34 reckons that if its function was simply that of summarising past events, as in Euripides, Deianeira could have presented her story in much fewer words. Instead, she gives a rather long account, which incorporates three lengthy descriptions: (a) her courtship to Achelous (Trach. 6–17), (b) the battle between him and Heracles (18–27), (c) her married life with the hero (27–35). According to Easterling, “the emphasis throughout is on Deianeira’s fear and loneliness.” This feeling of fear is especially prominent in the formidable presentation of Achelous and of the ensuing fight with Heracles (Trach. 6–27):

ἥτις πατρὸς μὲν ἐν δόμοισιν Οἰνέως

ναίουσ’ ἔτ’ ἐν Πλευρῶνι νυμφείων ὄτλον

ἄλγιστον ἔσχον, εἴ τις Αἰτωλὶς γυνή.

μνηστὴρ γὰρ ἦν μοι ποταμός, Ἀχελῷον λέγω,

ὅς μ’ ἐν τρισὶν μορφαῖσιν ἐξῄτει πατρός, 10

φοιτῶν ἐναργὴς ταῦρος, ἄλλοτ’ αἰόλος

δράκων ἑλικτός, ἄλλοτ’ ἀνδρείῳ κύτει

βούπρῳρος· ἐκ δὲ δασκίου γενειάδος

κρουνοὶ διερραίνοντο κρηναίου ποτοῦ.

τοιόνδ’ ἐγὼ μνηστῆρα προσδεδεγμένη 15

δύστηνος ἀεὶ κατθανεῖν ἐπηυχόμην,

πρὶν τῆσδε κοίτης ἐμπελασθῆναί ποτε.

χρόνῳ δ’ ἐν ὑστέρῳ μέν, ἀσμένῃ δέ μοι,

ὁ κλεινὸς ἦλθε Ζηνὸς Ἀλκμήνης τε παῖς·

ὃς εἰς ἀγῶνα τῷδε συμπεσὼν μάχης 20

ἐκλύεταί με. καὶ τρόπον μὲν ἂν πόνων

οὐκ ἂν διείποιμ’· οὐ γὰρ οἶδ’· ἀλλ’ ὅστις ἦν

θακῶν ἀταρβὴς τῆς θέας, ὅδ’ ἂν λέγοι.

ἐγὼ γὰρ ἥμην ἐκπεπληγμένη φόβῳ

μή μοι τὸ κάλλος ἄλγος ἐξεύροι ποτέ. 25

τέλος δ’ ἔθηκε Ζεὺς ἀγώνιος καλῶς,

εἰ δὴ καλῶς …

While I still lived in the house of my father Oeneus,

in Pleuron, I suffered painful affliction

in the matter of my wedding, if any Aetolian woman did.

For I had as a wooer a river, I mean Achelous,

who came in three shapes35 to ask my father for me, 10

at some times manifest as a bull, at others as a darting,

coiling serpent, and again at others with a man’s trunk and

a bull’s head; and from his shaggy beard

there poured streams of water from his springs.

Expecting such a suitor as that 15

I was always praying, poor creature, that I might die

before ever coming near his bed.

But at the last moment, and to my relief,

there came the famous son of Zeus and Alcmene,

who contended with him in battle 20

and released me. I cannot tell of the manner

of his struggle, for I know nothing of it; whoever was

sitting there not terrified by the sight, he could tell you.

For I was sitting there struck numb with fear

that my beauty might end by bringing me pain. 25

But in the end Zeus the god of contests decided well,

if it was well …

Deianeira was so terrified that she could not watch the cruel fight. Thus, the details of the fight are given later, in the second stasimon, by the women of the Chorus (Trach. 507–522):

ὁ μὲν ἦν ποταμοῦ σθένος, ὑψίκερω

τετραόρου

φάσμα ταύρου,

Ἀχελῷος ἀπ’ Οἰνιαδᾶν, ὁ δὲ Βακχίας ἄπο 510

ἦλθε παλίντονα Θήβας

τόξα καὶ λόγχας ῥόπαλόν τε τινάσσων,

παῖς Διός· οἳ τότ’ ἀολλεῖς

ἴσαν ἐς μέσον ἱέμενοι λεχέων·

μόνα δ’ εὔλεκτρος ἐν μέσῳ Κύπρις 515

ῥαβδονόμει ξυνοῦσα.

τότ’ ἦν χερός, ἦν δὲ τό-

ξων πάταγος,

ταυρείων τ’ ἀνάμιγδα κεράτων·

ἦν δ’ ἀμφίπλεκτοι κλίμακες, ἦν δὲ μετώ- 520

πων ὀλόεντα

πλήγματα καὶ στόνος ἀμφοῖν.

One was a mighty river, appearing

as a bull,36

long-horned, four-legged,

Achelous from Oeniadae; and the other came from Bacchic 510

Thebes, brandishing

his springing bow, his spears, and his club,

the son of Zeus. They then met together

in the middle, longing for her bed;

and alone in the centre the beautiful Cyprian 515

was there to umpire in the contest.

Then there was a clatter of fists and

of the quiver, and of the bull’s horns, all together;

and legs were wound around waists,

and deadly blows 520

struck foreheads,

and groans came from both.

The repetition of the Prologue fight scene in more detail, the emphasis on the monstrosity of Achelous and the ‘primitive violence’37 of the combat should not be a coincidence. And this time, the scenery is enriched: next to Pleuron and Aetolia, Oeniadae are added. In the following pages it will be argued that these repeated descriptions and their semantics might allude and reproduce recent memories and narratives from negative military experiences that the Athenians had accumulated in the greater area.

Achelous, the longest and most voluminous river in Greece, was the traditional boundary (often contested) between Acarnania in the west and Aetolia in the east.38 Flowing from the mountains of north Pindus and after a course of 136 miles, it empties in the Ionian Gulf. Its delta is very close to the Acarnanian city of Oeniadae, which had a harbour on the navigable river, and where the personified river was worshipped as a god. Thus, the mention in lines 510–511 of Achelous as ‘coming from Oeniadae’ is not without importance. Jebb39 notes that “as Heracles arrives from his famous home to the east [i.e. Thebes], so it is fitting that the river-god should come from the western town which was a chief seat of his worship.” But there might be more to this. At least from the 450’s and up until 424 BC,40 the city was an anti-Athenian stronghold in an area of great strategic importance (like that of Trachis), possessing a great harbour that overlooked the exit of the Corinthian Gulf to the Ionian Sea (see Fig. 1). As such, it was both a thorn and a most coveted prize for the Athenian thalassocracy. Jebb mentions the failed attempt of Pericles to subdue Oeniadae in 454 BC, which is recorded by Thucydides (1.111.2–3):

Περικλέους τοῦ Ξανθίππου στρατηγοῦντος … παραλαβόντες Ἀχαιοὺς καὶ διαπλεύσαντες πέραν τῆς Ἀκαρνανίας ἐς Οἰνιάδας ἐστράτευσαν καὶ ἐπολιόρκουν, οὐ μέντοι εἷλόν γε, ἀλλ’ ἀπεχώρησαν ἐπ’ οἴκου.

under the command of Pericles son of Xanthippus … taking along some Achaeans and sailing across the gulf, they made an expedition against Oeniadae in Acarnania and laid siege to it; but failing to take it they went back home.

The brevity and simplicity of Thucydides’ description of the event suggests that it was not regarded by him as very important. In any case, this failed attempt does not seem to have the bearing one would expect for a historical allusion in the fearsome battle between Achelous and Heracles. Nevertheless, it should be numbered alongside several later events which inspired negative feelings in the Athenians about this area.

More promising, I think, is the comparative reading of our play with two events at the heart of the Peloponnesian War and the agonising effect they might have had on the Athenian collective memory and sentiment. The first was the Athenian campaign in Acarnania, in the winter of 429–428 BC, which was not completed. Under the leadership of Phormio the Athenians sailed from Naupactus to Astacus and marched into the inner parts of Acarnania. They expelled disloyal men from Stratus and Coronta, and returned to their ships. Most importantly, from a strategic point of view, they were about to attack the city of Oeniadae, had it not been for Achelous and the large volume of its water in winter, which made the city inaccessible. Thucydides’ report is noteworthy in its detail on the might of Achelous in that particular area (2.102.2–4):

ἐς γὰρ Οἰνιάδας αἰεί ποτε πολεμίους ὄντας μόνους Ἀκαρνάνων οὐκ ἐδόκει δυνατὸν εἶναι χειμῶνος ὄντος στρατεύειν· ὁ γὰρ Ἀχελῷος ποταμὸς ῥέων ἐκ Πίνδου ὄρους διὰ Δολοπίας καὶ Ἀγραίων καὶ Ἀμφιλόχων καὶ διὰ τοῦ Ἀκαρνανικοῦ πεδίου, ἄνωθεν μὲν παρὰ Στράτον πόλιν, ἐς θάλασσαν δ’ ἐξιεὶς παρ’ Οἰνιάδας καὶ τὴν πόλιν αὐτοῖς περιλιμνάζων, ἄπορον ποιεῖ ὑπὸ τοῦ ὕδατος ἐν χειμῶνι στρατεύειν. κεῖνται δὲ καὶ τῶν νήσων τῶν Ἐχινάδων αἱ πολλαὶ καταντικρὺ Οἰνιαδῶν τοῦ Ἀχελῴου τῶν ἐκβολῶν οὐδὲν ἀπέχουσαι, ὥστε μέγας ὢν ὁ ποταμὸς προσχοῖ αἰεὶ καὶ εἰσὶ τῶν νήσων αἳ ἠπείρωνται, ἐλπὶς δὲ καὶ πάσας οὐκ ἐν πολλῷ τινὶ ἂν χρόνῳ τοῦτο παθεῖν· τό τε γὰρ ῥεῦμά ἐστι μέγα καὶ πολὺ καὶ θολερόν, αἵ τε νῆσοι πυκναί, καὶ ἀλλήλαις τῆς προσχώσεως [τῷ μὴ σκεδάννυσθαι] ξύνδεσμοι γίγνονται, παραλλὰξ καὶ οὐ κατὰ στοῖχον κείμεναι, οὐδ’ ἔχουσαι εὐθείας διόδους τοῦ ὕδατος ἐς τὸ πέλαγος. ἐρῆμοι δ’ εἰσὶ καὶ οὐ μεγάλαι …

It seemed impracticable in winter to make a campaign against Oeniadae, whose inhabitants alone of the Acarnanians were always hostile; for the river Achelous, which rises in Mount Pindus and flows through the country of the Dolopians, Agraeans, and Amphilochians and then through the Acarnanian plain, passes by the city of Stratus high up the stream, but by Oeniadae empties into the sea, where it surrounds the city with marshes, thus rendering military operations there impossible in winter by reason of the water. Besides, most of the Echinades islands lie opposite to Oeniadae at no great distance from the mouths of the Achelous, so that the river, which is large, keeps making fresh deposits of silt, and some of the islands have already become part of the mainland, and probably this will happen to all of them in no great while. For the stream is wide and deep and turbid, and the islands are close together and serve to bind to one another the bars as they are formed, preventing them from being broken up, since the islands lie, not in line, but irregularly, and do not allow straight channels for the water into the open sea. These islands are uninhabited and not large.

It is strange for Thucydides to make such a detailed geographical report especially for a place where no action took place. Achelous’ delta must have made quite an impression on the Athenians. It is not hard to imagine the leaders of the expedition providing a similar report to the Assembly in Athens, accounting for their failure to attack the enemy city of Oeniadae. In the Athenian perception, Achelous – in popular belief an all-mighty river-god – would have been the formidable defender of the area scaring away any potential invader. Such perception might also explain the emphasis put by Sophocles on the fearsome strength of Achelous in the play and its grotesque wetness. In real life Achelous prevailed. Its defeat in the play by Heracles (a fact already known from myth) may have served so as to alleviate the citizens’ fears for this area and boost their moral: the monster is not unbeatable. As for Heracles, his fight against it bears the semantics of a charter cultural myth; he establishes cultural norms (e.g. from the male’s protective sovereignty over the female to wrestling tactics) by means of prevailing over deviation (from monstrous passions to uncontrolled forces of nature). That the audience would find Heracles in this section of the play a sympathetic figure and even identify themselves with him, while later they would see him as a representative of the Spartans, is not hard to explain. First of all, in a symbolic, allusive level there can be different dimensions in the same character or event, even contradicting one another: in Euripides Medea, for example, the heroine may represent the suppressed Greek free woman and at the same time she embodies all negative stereotypes that the Greeks had for the barbarians. Moreover, there seems to be an evolution in the portrayal of Heracles: initially the saviour of Deianeira, he ends up behaving like a monster himself. It is as if, from the combat with Achelous, and later with Nessus, he himself has been infected with their monstrosity. In addition, Vickers makes an interesting correlation of the words of Deianeira in the prologue, on one hand with Heracles as the protector of the Athenians in Marathon, and on the other with Heracles as the representative of Sparta, their big enemy in the Peloponnesian War:

On the eve of the battle, the Athenians had encamped in one shrine of Heracles, probably at Oenoe, and on their return from Marathon to Athens had encamped in another at Cynosarges. With hindsight it might with justice be thought that the Athenians owed their salvation to the protection of the hero. It is a Heracles in this tradition who is referred to in Deianeira’s opening speech in Trachiniae (19ff.): Heracles who wards of evil. But this virtuous Heracles had wandered off (31ff.) and the reference to Trachis (39)41 will have alerted the Athenian audience to the likely nature of the very different Heracles who reappears later in the play.42

Even more important for the Athenian collective memory and sentiment must have been the painful experience from nearby Aetolia during the failed Athenian campaign in the summer of 426 BC – about the same time as the events of Heraclea in Trachis. Thucydides devotes four chapters to this campaign (3.94–98), which apparently gave a very strong blow to the Athenian pride. A large force of Athenians and allies (Messenians, Caphallenians and Zacynthians) under Demosthenes invaded the area. Initially they succeeded in capturing some small towns, including Potidania, Crocyleum and Teichium. This alarmed the Aetolian tribes, who joined forces so as to strike back. Demosthenes, advancing to Aegitium, falls in a trap with disastrous consequences: overwhelmed by the Aetolians, his soldiers flee to the sea, with many being slaughtered in a most hostile territory. Aetolia becomes the invader’s grave and Demosthenes avoids returning to Athens for fear of punishment by his fellow citizens. Thucydides describes with vivid colours the violence unleashed upon the Athenians and their allies, and their heavy losses (3.98):

Μέχρι μὲν οὖν οἱ τοξόται εἶχόν τε τὰ βέλη αὐτοῖς καὶ οἷοί τε ἦσαν χρῆσθαι, οἱ δὲ ἀντεῖχον (τοξευόμενοι γὰρ οἱ Αἰτωλοί, ἄνθρωποι ψιλοί, ἀνεστέλλοντο)· ἐπειδὴ δὲ τοῦ τε τοξάρχου ἀποθανόντος οὗτοι διεσκεδάσθησαν καὶ αὐτοὶ ἐκεκμήκεσαν καὶ ἐπὶ πολὺ τῷ αὐτῷ πόνῳ ξυνεχόμενοι, οἵ τε Αἰτωλοὶ ἐνέκειντο καὶ ἐσηκόντιζον, οὕτω δὴ τραπόμενοι ἔφευγον, καὶ ἐσπίπτοντες ἔς τε χαράδρας ἀνεκβάτους καὶ χωρία ὧν οὐκ ἦσαν ἔμπειροι διεφθείροντο· καὶ γὰρ ὁ ἡγεμὼν αὐτοῖς τῶν ὁδῶν Χρόμων ὁ Μεσσήνιος ἐτύγχανε τεθνηκώς. οἱ δὲ Αἰτωλοὶ ἐσακοντίζοντες πολλοὺς μὲν αὐτοῦ ἐν τῇ τροπῇ κατὰ πόδας αἱροῦντες, ἄνθρωποι ποδώκεις καὶ ψιλοί, διέφθειρον, τοὺς δὲ πλείους τῶν ὁδῶν ἁμαρτάνοντας καὶ ἐς τὴν ὕλην ἐσφερομένους, ὅθεν διέξοδοι οὐκ ἦσαν, πῦρ κομισάμενοι περιεπίμπρασαν· πᾶσά τε ἰδέα κατέστη τῆς φυγῆς καὶ τοῦ ὀλέθρου τῷ στρατοπέδῳ τῶν Ἀθηναίων, μόλις τε ἐπὶ τὴν θάλασσαν καὶ τὸν Οἰνεῶνα τῆς Λοκρίδος, ὅθενπερ καὶ ὡρμήθησαν, οἱ περιγενόμενοι κατέφυγον. ἀπέθανον δὲ τῶν τε ξυμμάχων πολλοὶ καὶ αὐτῶν Ἀθηναίων ὁπλῖται περὶ εἴκοσι μάλιστα καὶ ἑκατόν. τοσοῦτοι μὲν τὸ πλῆθος καὶ ἡλικία ἡ αὐτὴ οὗτοι βέλτιστοι δὴ ἄνδρες ἐν τῷ πολέμῳ τῷδε ἐκ τῆς Ἀθηναίων πόλεως διεφθάρησαν· ἀπέθανε δὲ καὶ ὁ ἕτερος στρατηγὸς Προκλῆς.

Now so long as their bowmen had arrows and were able to use them the Athenians held out, for the Aetolian troops were light-armed and so, while they were exposed to the arrows, they were constantly driven back. But when the captain of the archers had been killed and his men scattered, and the hoplites were worn out, since they had been engaged for a long time in the unremitting struggle and the Aetolians were pressing them hard and hurling javelins upon them, they at last turned and fled, and falling into ravines from which there was no way out and into places with which they were unacquainted, they perished; for Chromon, the Messenian, who had been their guide on the way, had unfortunately been killed. The Aetolians kept plying their javelins, and being swift of foot and lightly equipped, following at their heels they caught many there in the rout and slew them; but the greater number missed the roads and got into the forest, from which there were no paths out, and the Aetolians brought fire and set the woods ablaze around them. Then every manner of flight was essayed and every manner of destruction befell the army of the Athenians, and it was only with difficulty that the survivors escaped to the sea at Oeneon in Locris, whence they had set out. Many of the allies were slain, and of the Athenians themselves about one hundred and twenty hoplites. So great a number of men, and all of the same age, perished here, the best men in truth whom the city of Athens lost in this war; and Procles, one of the two generals, perished also.

The description is impressive in its dramatic details, and so is the outcome of the event as regards the magnitude of the disaster.43 The historian’s detailed description perhaps hints at the Athenians’ collective trauma and the horrifying connotations that the area would since bear for them. And the violent combat in the Aetolian city of Pleuron between Achelous and Heracles in the Trachiniae could well reflect the dreadful clashes between the Aetolians and the Athenians in the hostile land of Aetolia. Those who were lucky to survive would have many fearsome stories to tell, which must have spread terror in Athens about this wild and largely unknown area of Western Greece.

Likewise, the portrayal of Achelous as a primitive monster may itself be reproducing the perception of the Aetolians as primitives and warlike by the Athenians and other Greeks. In fact, the Aetolians were a collection of tribes, the strongest and most warlike in Western Central Greece. These included the Eurytanes, the Apodoti, the Ophiones, the Aperanti and the Argaii, who had as a common religious, cultural and political centre the town of Thermus.44 Certain towns, among them Pleuron, were already mentioned in the Iliad (esp. in 2.639–640), where the Aetolians are presented as μενεχάρμαι (< χάρμη, ‘steadfast in battle’, 9.529) and μεγάθυμοι (‘great-hearted’, 9.549). Thucydides presents them as Greeks, though of an earlier level of civilisation (τῷ παλαιῷ τρόπῳ), namely living off plunder and bearing arms in daily life (1.5.3), whereas the Eurytanes in particular are described as ἀγνωστότατoι γλῶσσαν (‘most unintelligible’) and ὠμοφάγοι (‘raw-eaters’, 3.94.5). At the time of the Athenian expedition in the area the majority of the Aetolians were living in dispersed and unfortified tribal settlements, and that is why the Messenians (mistakenly) advised Demosthenes that their force could easily subdue them. Once defeated, the rest of the region would fall too (3.94.5):

τὸ γὰρ ἔθνος μέγα μὲν εἶναι τὸ τῶν Αἰτωλῶν καὶ μάχιμον, οἰκοῦν δὲ κατὰ κώμας ἀτειχίστους, καὶ ταύτας διὰ πολλοῦ, καὶ σκευῇ ψιλῇ χρώμενον οὐ χαλεπὸν ἀπέφαινον, πρὶν ξυμβοηθῆσαι, καταστραφῆναι.

The Aetolians [they explained], were, it was true, a great and warlike people, but as they lived in unwalled villages, which, moreover, were widely separated, and as they used only light armour, they could be subdued without difficulty before they could unite for mutual defence.

The perception of the Aetolians in non-historical sources is along the same lines and perhaps even more negative – most characteristically in tragedy, in line with the monstrosity of Achelous in our play. A most indicative passage is Euripides’ Phoenissae 133–140, correlating Tydeus (the son of Oeneus) to the Aetolians in general:

ANΤΙΓΟΝΗ: τίς δ’ οὗτός ἐστι; ΘΕΡΑΠΩΝ: παῖς μὲν Οἰνέως ἔφυ

Τυδεύς, Ἄρη δ’ Αἰτωλὸν ἐν στέρνοις ἔχει.

ΑΝ. οὗτος ὁ τᾶς Πολυνείκεος, ὦ γέρον, 135

αὐτοκασιγνήται νύμφας

ὁμόγαμος κυρεῖ;

ὡς ἀλλόχρως ὅπλοισι, μειξοβάρβαρος.

ΘΕ. σακεσφόροι γὰρ πάντες Αἰτωλοί, τέκνον,

λόγχαις τ’ ἀκοντιστῆρες εὐστοχώτατοι. 140

AΝΤΙGONE: Who is he? SERVANT: He is Tydeus,

son of Oeneus, and Aetolian is the war spirit he bears within his breast.45

AN. Is this the man 135

who married

the sister of Polynices’ wife?

How strange his weapons are, half-barbarian!

SE. Yes: all the Aetolians, my child,

carry light shields and hurl javelins with great accuracy.46 140

Apart from being warlike, Tydeus and – by extension – the Aetolians are characterised as μειξοβάρβαροι, literally ‘interbred with barbarians’.

With the above in mind, a passage like Euripides’ Meleager fr. 537, referring to Tydeus’ horrendous act of eating the brains of Melanippus, could allusively ascribe the charge of cannibalism to the Aetolians in general – at least it would contribute to a very negative portrayal of a famous hero of theirs:

εἰς ἀνδροβρῶτας ἡδονὰς ἀφίξεται

κάρηνα πυρσαῖς γένυσι Μελανίππου σπάσας.

He will come to cannibal pleasures

and tear the head of Melanippus with gore-red jaws.47

As for the aftermath of Demosthenes’ disastrous campaign in Aetolia, it increased pressure on the Athenians in Central Greece, this time from the West, and allowed for Spartan intervention in this area too. After the Athenian retreat, the Aetolians sent envoys to the Spartans and persuaded them to send an army against Naupactus, whence the Athenians had attacked them in the first place and where they were currently stationed.48 And here comes the most interesting part: of the three thousand hoplites sent by the Spartans, six hundred were dispatched from the new colony of Heraclea in Trachis (Thuc. 3.100.2):

καὶ ἐξέπεμψαν Λακεδαιμόνιοι περὶ τὸ φθινόπωρον τρισχιλίους ὁπλίτας τῶν ξυμμάχων. τούτων ἦσαν πεντακόσιοι ἐξ Ἡρακλείας, τῆς ἐν Τραχῖνι πόλεως τότε νεοκτίστου οὔσης.

So towards autumn the Lacedaemonians sent three thousand hoplites of their allies, among whom were six hundred from Heraclea, the city which had recently been founded in Trachis.

With reinforcements from the Locrian tribes (some of which revolted from Athens), the Spartans and their allies advanced against Naupactus. Coming to their support, the Aetolians ravaged the area, took the non-fortified outer city, and seized Molycrium, a town belonging to Athens. Eventually, the Athenians managed to maintain Naupactus with great difficulty, and only after one thousand Acarnanian hoplites came to their rescue. After that the Spartans withdrew to Pleuron and other Aetolian towns and with this information Thucydides concludes his narrative on the events of the summer of 426 BC (Thuc. 3.101–102).

Conclusion

In the Trachiniae all dramatic action, staged and narrated, takes place in Central Greece, at its two ends. The myth, which combines the Aetolian and the Malian legends of Heracles (but surprisingly makes no mention of his famous Peloponnesian labours) seems to have a twofold historical background. The series of events from the life of Heracles located around Aetolia/Acarnania and Trachis apparently stirs up memory of recent negative experiences that the Athenians had from the respective areas of Central Greece and which – as we have seen – were interconnected. Especially the Athenian disastrous campaign against Aetolia occurred the same year (426 BC) as the foundation of the Spartan colony of Heraclea in Trachis. The Spartans were already mobilised in Aetolia and there were legitimate fears that they would do the same in Trachis attacking nearby Euboea. Through scenes of primitive violence in the play, Sophocles is allegorically reminding his audience of the recent Athenian misfortunes and warns against more misfortunes in the future, and what is more, in their own backyard. The unique monologue in a Sophoclean prologue, the monstrosity of Achelous, the negative portrayal of Heracles (evolving from a saviour to a monster), enhanced by topical references to Pleuron, Oeniadae, Trachis, etc., contribute to an increased feeling of anxiety and alarm. Admittedly, if taken separately, these elements might be dismissed as speculations. But the cumulative effect tells us that this is not mere coincidence. It is clearly a case of what has been described by Hopkins as the ‘wigwam argument’:49

Each pole would fall down by itself, but together the poles stand up, by leaning on each other; they point roughly in the same direction and ‘circumscribe’ truth.50

In our case the direction pointed at is that the Trachiniae was apparently staged shortly after 426 BC, most likely in the Great Dionysia of 424 BC.

Bibliography

Antonetti, C. 1990. Les Étoliens: Image et Religion. Paris. 

Campbell, L. 1907. Paralipomena Sophoclea. London. 

Cartledge, P. 1976. A New Fifth-century Spartan Treaty. LCM 1: 87–92. 

Davies, M. 1991. Sophocles, Trachiniae. Oxford. ab

Easterling, P.E. 1982. Sophocles: Trachiniae. Cambridge. abc

Francis, E.D. 1980. Greeks and Persians: The Art of Hazard and Triumph. In Ancient Persia, the Art of an Empire, ed. D. Schmandt-Besserat, 53–86. Malibu. 

Grimal, P. 1958. Dictionnaire de la Mythologie Grecque et Romaine. Paris. 

Jebb, R.C. 1902. Sophocles: Trachiniae. Cambridge. 

Jones, H.L. 1928. Strabo: Geography, vol. 5: Books 10–12. Cambridge, MA. 

Hoey, T.F. 1979. The Date of the Trachiniae. Phoenix 33: 210–232. 

Hommel, H. 1940. Gedanken zur griechischen Tragödie. NJAB 3: 273–292. 

Hopkins, K. 1978. Conquerors and Slaves: Sociological Studies in Ancient History. Cambridge. 

Kovacs, D. 2002. Euripides. Helen. Phoenician Women. Orestes. Cambridge, MA. 

Kovacs, D. 2008. Euripides. Fragments: Aegeus-Meleager. Cambridge, MA. 

Lloyd-Jones, H. 1994. Sophocles, Antigone, The Women of Trachis, Philoctetes, Oedipus at Colonus. Cambridge, MA. 

Meier, C. 1988. Die politische Kunst der griechischen Tragödie. Μünchen. 

Pelling, C.B.R. (ed.) 1997. Greek Tragedy and the Historian. Oxford. 

Powell, A. 2018. Sparta: Reconstructing History from Secrecy, Lies and Myth. A Companion to Sparta, vol. 1, ed. A. Powell, 3–28. Hoboken, NJ. 

Reinhardt, K. 1979. Sophocles. Oxford. 

Ronnet, G. 1969. Sophocle Poète Tragique. Paris. 

Seaford, R.A.S. 1994. Reciprocity and Ritual: Homer and Tragedy in the developing City-State. Oxford. 

Seaford, R.A.S. 2012. Cosmology and the Polis: The Social Construction of Space and Time in the Tragedies of Aeschylus. Cambridge. 

Seaford, R.A.S. 2018. Tragedy, Ritual, and Money in Ancient Greece: Selected Essays. Cambridge. 

Smith, C.F. 1919–1923. Thucydides. History of the Peloponnesian War (3 vols). Cambridge, MA. 

Vickers, M. 1995. Heracles Lacedaemonius: The Political Dimensions of Sophocles’ Trachiniae and Euripides’ Heracles. DHA 21.2: 41–69. abcdef

Vickers, M. 2008. Sophocles and Alcibiades: Athenian Politics in Ancient Greek Literature. London. 

Webster, T.B.L. 1936. Sophocles’ Trachiniae. In Greek Poetry and Life: Essays Presented to Gilbert Murray, ed. D. Bailey et al., 164–180. Oxford. 

Winkler, J.J. and Zeitlin, F.I. (eds.) 1990. Nothing to do with Dionysos? Athenian Drama in its Social Context. Princeton. 

Notes

1

From a long bibliographical list, one could start such a reading with Meier (1988)Seaford (1994), (2012) and (2018), and the edited volumes by Winkler and Zeitlin (1990) and Pelling (1997).

2

See the points raised by Vickers (1995) 41–45. On myth’s convoluted relation to history in general, see the Preface to the present volume.

3

One easily thinks of post–World War II Antigones as a dramatic call for resistance, and anti-authority in general.

4

Vickers (1995).

5

Easterling (1982) 19. Another (more detailed) survey of the various dating attempts is by Hoey (1979).

6

Among them, Easterling distinguishes the contribution of Reinhard (1979) esp. 239–240 (he argued for an early date in Sophocles’ career, on the basis of the poet’s treatment of communication between characters), which nevertheless she finds unconvincing for reasons applying to all similar approaches and which are laid out below.

7

According to Suda Σ 815.

8

As inferred from Hypothesis II, according to which it was staged during the archonship of Glaucippus.

9

According to Hypothesis II, during the archonship of Micon by the poet’s homonymous grandson.

10

Webster (1936).

11

Ronnet (1969) 323–324.

12

He identified Heracles in the play with the Thasians, on the basis of his being the patron god of their city.

13

Hommel (1940) 289.

14

On the basis of the play’s mention of Euboea and of Heracles’ sack of the city of Oechalia on this island.

15

Campbell (1907) 156.

16

Some people from Pylus regarded themselves descendants of Heracles through Hyllus, his son from Deianeira. According to Campbell, when Deianeira prayed to Zeus that she may never see any of her offspring made captive (Trach. 303–305), the audience would have been reminded of the Spartan captives from Pylus, who were restored to their city as part of the peace deal of Nicias.

17

Vickers (1995).

18

Thuc. 2.14.1: πρόβατα δὲ καὶ ὑποζύγια ἐς τὴν Εὔβοιαν διεπέμψαντο καὶ ἐς τὰς νήσους τὰς ἐπικειμένας (“but sheep and draught-animals they sent over to Euboea and the adjacent islands”; all translations of Thucydides are from Smith [1919–1923]).

19

So, for instance, Grimal (19582) s.v. ‘Héraclès’.

20

Translation of the Trachiniae passages from Lloyd-Jones (1994).

21

From ἀνίσταμαι, literally ‘made to rise up and depart’ (hence ‘driven from one’s house and home’); see LSJ9 s.v.

22

The interesting thing here is the repeated reference to an established polis (having an agora), and not just to an area.

23

The choice of this Doric name for Heracles’ herald should not be considered a coincidence. Vickers (1995) 48–49 points out that it was the name of a prominent Spartan envoy (see Thuc. 5.22.2, 8.39.2 and 8.87.1), most hated by the inhabitants of Miletus for his abrasive manner (Thuc. 8.84.5). The same person had caused controversy in winning the chariot race in the Olympic Games of 420 BC (Thuc. 5.50.4).

24

See e.g. Hdt. 7.204, who characteristically traces the descent of king Leonidas (leader of the Spartans in Thermopylae) up to twenty generations back, with an impressive list of names ending with Hyllus and Heracles.

25

They had a reputation for systematically lying in politics and in war (for a detailed discussion, see Powell [2008] esp. 7–13). For instance, in the famous ‘Funeral Oration’ by Pericles, Thucydides has the great Athenian statesman accuse the enemy (the Spartans) that in military matters they relied on ‘acts of deception’ (ἀπάταις, Thuc. 2.39.1).

26

This may well be a hint at the treacherous Spartans and their murderous tactics, especially in the framework of the Spartan institution called krypteia (lit. = ‘hiding’; on this custom see Brill’s New Pauly s.v. [by P. Cartledge] with further bibliography). As part of their military training, elite young Spartans (kryptoi) lived apart from society for a given period with minimum food and equipment. According to Plut. Lyc. 28 (who bases his account on the Aristotelian Lakedaimonion Politeia) this training involved hiding in obscure places during the day and coming out at night and murdering whatever helot they came upon. Plutarch characteristically describes this brutal custom as μιαρὸν … ἔργον (‘an abominable deed’). The way Heracles killed Iphitus could easily call to mind a kryptos killing a helot from behind.

27

According to Arist. Poet. 1449b and 1453a ἔλεος (‘pity’) and φόβος (‘fear’) (each one covering a variety of similar feelings) are the special effects of tragedy to the spectators.

28

Thuc. 3.93.2: ἐκφοβήσαντες τοὺς πολλοὺς χαλεπῶς τε καὶ ἔστιν ἃ οὐ καλῶς ἐξηγούμενοι (“frightening most of the settlers away by their harsh and sometimes unjust administration”).

29

There is no record of Sophocles taking part in the Lenaea; with comedy prevailing in that festival, the tragic competition there was inferior and the great tragedians refrained from staging their plays there.

30

Vickers (1995) 47.

31

See Thuc. 4.50.2.

32

The Eponymous Archon gave commission (ἐδίδου χορόν) to three tragic poets every July, eight to nine months earlier than the actual contest, and rehearsals started immediately.

33

See, for instance, Davies (1991) 55 with further bibliography.

34

Eastering (1982) 72.

35

Achelous was a river-god, son of Oceanus and Tethys (see Hes. Theog. 337–340). On his ability to take multiple forms, note with Davies (1991) 59 that “water-spirits and the like (Thetis, Proteus, Nereus, etc.) often resort to metamorphosis, in keeping with the changeable nature of their element”.

36

In the artistic representations of the fight, Achelous is most commonly portrayed in the bull-man form: see e.g. BAPD nr. 6911 (Paris, Louvre: G365), an Athenian krater of c. 475–425 BC found in Sicily, which also features Deianeira and an old man with a sceptre (apparently Oeneus).

37

Easterling (1982) 134.

38

See e.g. Strabo 10.2.1: Αἰτωλοὶ μὲν τοίνυν καὶ Ἀκαρνᾶνες ὁμοροῦσιν ἀλλήλοις, μέσον ἔχοντες τὸν Ἀχελῶον ποταμὸν ῥέοντα ἀπὸ τῶν ἄρκτων καὶ τῆς Πίνδου πρὸς νότον διά τε Ἀγραίων Αἰτωλικοῦ ἔθνους καὶ Ἀμφιλόχων, Ἀκαρνᾶνες μὲν τὸ πρὸς ἑσπέραν μέρος ἔχοντες τοῦ ποταμοῦ μέχρι τοῦ Ἀμβρακικοῦ κόλπου τοῦ κατὰ Ἀμφιλόχους καὶ τὸ ἱερὸν τοῦ Ἀκτίου Ἀπόλλωνος, Αἰτωλοὶ δὲ τὸ πρὸς ἕω μέχρι τῶν Ὀζολῶν Λοκρῶν καὶ τοῦ Παρνασσοῦ καὶ τῶν Οἰταίων (“now the Aetolians and the Acarnanians border on one another, having between them the Achelous River, which flows from the north and from Pindus on the south through the country of the Agraeans, an Aetolian tribe, and through that of the Amphilochians, the Acarnanians holding the western side of the river as far as that part of the Ambracian Gulf which is near Amphilochi and the temple of the Actian Apollo, but the Aetolians the eastern side as far as the Ozalian Locrians and Parnassus and the Oetaeans”; translation by Jones [1928]).

39

Jebb (1902) 79.

40

In that year it was forced by the other Acarnanians to join the Athenian League (see Thuc. 4.77.2).

41

According to Deianeira, after Heracles had killed Iphytus, the family moved to Trachis, as guests of the local king.

42

Vickers (1995) 46–47.

43

Actually, it reads like a tragic prequel and a synopsis of Thucydides’ narrative on the Athenians’ slaughter in Sicily (see esp. 7.84).

44

See Brill’s New Pauly s.v. ‘Aetolians / Aetolia’ (by D. Strauch). Generally on the Aetolians, see the monograph by Antonetti (1990).

45

Cf. Callim. fr. 621 Pfeiffer εἰμὶ τέρας Καλυδῶνος, ἄγω δ’ Αἰτωλὸν Ἄρηα, again with reference to Tydeus.

46

Translation by Kovacs (2002).

47

Translation by Kovacs (2008).

48

An inscription found in the Acropolis of Sparta (SEG 38.332 = Sparta Museum 6265) preserves a treaty between the Spartans and the Aetolian Erxadieis (?), considered by some as referring to the events of 426 BC; see esp. Cartledge (1976).

49

Which Vickers has also utilised in his book (2008) with promising results on the dating of other Sophoclean plays.

50

Hopkins (1978) 19.

If you find an error or have any questions, please email us at admin@erenow.org. Thank you!