035
The Olympics may be the best known of ancient Greece’s athletic competitions, but the sanctuary at Olympia was only one of four sites where games were held. Greeks also flocked to games at Delphi, Isthmia and Nemea. These so-called panhellenic festivals were governed by a sacred truce that protected people traveling to any of the four sites—where men from throughout the Greek-speaking world competed in boxing, wrestling and track-and-field events. A crown of vegetal matter was awarded to the victors—olive at Olympia, laurel at Delphi, pine at Isthmia and wild celery at Nemea. The best athletes were those who won at least once at each of these games; circuit-victors, they were called.
In 573 B.C. Nemea became the last of the four sites to receive panhellenic status. Nemea sits in a small valley in the Arcadian mountains of the northeastern Peloponnesus. The valley is naturally swampy, viable only for grazing; indeed, the name “Nemea” derives from the verb nemein, meaning “to graze.” In the summer, however, the valley dried out sufficiently for the Nemean Games to be held.
Myth tells us that the Nemean Games were founded in memory of an infant named Opheltes, who was killed by a serpent when his nurse, Hypsipyle, set him on a bed of wild celery. Thus the Nemean Games were, like all the other panhellenic festivals, funeral games; the judges wore black robes as a sign of mourning, and the wild-celery victory crown 036had a direct connection to the story of the baby’s death.
In the southwestern part of the Nemean sanctuary are the remains of the Hero Shrine of Opheltes. This sixth-century B.C. man-made mound seems to mimic the Pelopeion, the shrine at Olympia associated with the cult of the hero Pelops. The elongated Nemean mound was built of alternating layers of reddish and whitish earth; the layers, roughly between 6 and 8 inches thick, seem to have been sieved, since they are almost completely devoid of stones and pebbles.
Each layer contained one or more drinking vessels. The most common type was the two-handled skyphos, which, in some layers, was buried along with the wine jugs known as oinochoai. In one case, an oinochoe was surrounded by four skyphoi—a sort of ancient martini set. In another, an oinochoe was positioned on its side with its mouth opening onto another jug, as if liquid were still pouring from one vessel into the other. It appears that the builders first “purified” the earthen fill by filtering it through a sieve; then they sanctified each layer by the pouring of a libation. The ritual was concluded when the libation vessels were set in the ground, the final step in the process of sanctification.
The layers were built up in one construction, probably during a single year, but were subsequently “repaired” in some areas. The parts of the mound that have been excavated have revealed no evidence of an actual burial.
In addition to serving as a shrine, the mound was also used by spectators, who sat on its slopes to watch the games. In the sixth century B.C., the stadium at Nemea ran along the eastern side of the mound. The surface of the stadium’s racetrack seems to have been a layer of white clay, and letters carved on the track’s stone starting blocks distinguished the different lanes; these letters are dateable to the late sixth or early fifth century B.C. A number of weights, which athletes would have held while jumping—have been found alongside the track and are dateable to the same period.
The equestrian events took place at the hippodrome on the western side of the mound, where a series of clay layers containing chariot tracks have been found. Horse races might have taken place in the morning, so that the spectators could sit on the mound with their backs to the sun. In the afternoon, perhaps, the people moved to the eastern side of the mound, in order to watch the footraces and other athletic events.
037
Unlike our modern secular Olympic games, the ancient panhellenic festivals were closely associated with religion. A temple existed at Nemea in the sixth century B.C., but around 415 B.C. it was destroyed by a violent conflagration. Arrowheads and spear points suggest that a battle caused this destruction, a battle that may well have taken place during maneuvers by the Spartans against the Argives during the course of the Peloponnesian War (431-404 B.C.). The stadium was abandoned, and the games were moved to Argos, about 18 miles to the south. The festival did not return to Nemea until about 330 B.C., when the Temple of Nemean Zeus was constructed about 100 yards northeast of the Opheltes shrine, upon the remains of an earlier Archaic temple.a
With the return of the games to Nemea, the entire sanctuary underwent major change. The southern end of the mound was enclosed by a pentagonal wall (again, apparently in imitation of the Pelopeion at Olympia). A bath was constructed over a part of the early stadium track, its drain cutting through still more of the track. And a three-compartment reservoir with a capacity of about 3,500 cubic feet was built in the area of the earlier hippodrome. The new horse track was 038likely located a short distance to the west.
The Nemeans also built a brand-new stadium, which our team from the University of California at Berkeley began to excavate in 1974.
This new stadium is a quarter of a mile southeast of the Temple of Nemean Zeus, cut back into a hillside between two natural ridges. The earth dug out from between the ridges was piled at the open northern end to form an artificial terrace supporting the track. Although the contours of the earthen fill made the outline of the stadium clear even before we dug our first trench, we did not know at what depth the stadium floor would be found.
For 12 weeks we dug carefully through the accumulated debris, constantly concerned that we might accidentally dig through the stadium floor without identifying it. This debris, which had washed into the stadium from the hill above, produced no artifacts; not until our 13th week did we begin to find some coins and pottery fragments. On the very last day of the first season (July 19, 1974), a portion of the stone water channel that surrounded the track began to appear. By the end of the day we had also uncovered a small portion of the stone starting line, at a depth of nearly 23 feet.
Patience and persistence had been rewarded, and great celebrations followed that evening. Soon, however, our mood shifted dramatically, for the next morning Turkey invaded Cyprus, our local workmen were mobilized in case of war, and we sent our students back to California.
If we had continued excavating by hand with a crew of 20 local workers for 50 weeks a year, we would have needed 29 years to clear the whole stadium. Fortunately, in 1975 we acquired a Caterpillar front-end loader, which removed more than 3,000 truckloads of silted debris; only the final few feet of earth above the ancient track required digging by hand. Even so, we still needed nine years (which were not consecutive) to complete the stadium excavation. We finished in 1990, with the removal of the major road that led into the valley and bisected the stadium—a project that required a major diplomatic effort.
During the course of the excavations, we determined that the track at the Nemean stadium had been nearly 195 yards long, almost exactly the same size as the track at Delphi, but shorter than the 210-yard 039track at Olympia. (Of course, in an era when no records of times and distances were kept, and only the winner’s name was announced, such differences between the sites were not significant.) We discovered three rows of stone seats along the western side of the track. At Olympia, a simple earth embankment was used for seating. The specially built seats at Nemea were part of an evolution of permanent seating, though they were not as extensive or sophisticated as the elegant stone seats that would later come to be used during the Roman period, at such places as Delphi and Athens.
The stone water channel, a part of which we had uncovered on that last day of the 1974 excavation season at the southern end of the track, continued northward on both sides of the track and fed basins placed at regular intervals around the stadium floor. This kind of channel, which has been found at many other stadiums, including those at Olympia and Delphi, seems to have provided water both for drinking and moistening the track. The water was drawn from a natural spring more than a quarter of a mile away.
A row of blocks next to the water channel supported a wooden platform from where the robed judges oversaw the competition. The judges were from Argos, and a concentration of Argive coins was discovered around and behind the platform. (Written sources tell us that the judges came from Argos, though even in the absence of such evidence, we would assume this to be the case, since Argos controlled the site and the games from the beginning.) On the opposite (western) side of the track, the greatest concentration of coins was from Corinth. So it seems likely that spectators from the two cities assembled on either side of the track, cheering on their own competitors and fueling one of ancient Greece’s traditional rivalries.
The starting line, at the southern end of the track, was almost 2 feet wide, and was marked with two grooves cut into the stone, as was typical in the early Hellenistic period. The rear edge of each groove was vertical so that the runner’s toes could gain purchase, and the front edge was beveled to prevent the runner from tripping. A runner would place the toes of his lead foot in the first groove and the toes of his other foot in the second groove, which was set back several inches. This stance—with one foot slightly ahead of the other, arms extended, body leaning forward in anticipation of an explosive start—is exactly what we see in many ancient paintings and sculptures.
A single stone base with a socket for a vertical post lies a little more than 17 feet in front of the starting line and about 11 feet west of the center of the track. A turning post—attested in written sources and seen in vase paintings—was located here. The long-distance races were run up and down the track, probably 20 times, 041with all the runners turning around this single post. The sprints were run in lanes with each runner turning around his own individual post. These individual posts were set in the sockets of the starting lines.
The starting mechanism used for the footraces was called a hysplex. The hysplex consisted of two cords stretched along the starting line, one at waist level and one at knee level. The cords were attached to wooden posts at either end of the starting line. These posts were torsion-sprung (the catapult was then a recent invention, and its technology was used in this mechanism), so that when the starter gave the signal, the posts were released, snapping to the ground and lowering the cords. If an overeager runner started too soon, he became quickly entangled in the cords and tripped—for all the spectators to see.
The hysplex would thus guarantee a fair start to every race. Indeed, part of the attraction of such athletic events, then and now, is that winners are determined by strictly objective criteria. The first to cross the finish line, the athlete who jumps or throws the farthest, the wrestler who is still standing—they are the winners.b
The stadium at Nemea was never completed, or at least no wall was ever built to retain the massive earth fill of the northern end of the track (the lack of a retaining wall is the principal reason that the northern end of the track has not been preserved). Why did the Nemeans fail to build such a wall? Probably because, as our excavations have revealed, the Nemean Games were once again moved to Argos in 271 B.C. For what reason, we do not know. In any case, the second relocation of the games allows us to date the stadium and all of the other facilities at Nemea to between about 330 B.C., when the games first returned to Nemea, and 271 B.C.
In 1978 we discovered the stadium’s entrance tunnel, through which the athletes would pass on their way into the stadium, along the west side of the track. Both ends of the 40-yard-long tunnel had been silted shut. Scratched on the walls of the tunnel are numerous graffiti, some of which contain the names of known athletes from antiquity. One of the names is Telestas, who won the boxing championship in the boys’ category at the Olympic Games around 340 B.C. By the time he scratched his name at Nemea, he must have been a mature, seasoned athlete. Above his “autograph” on the tunnel wall, and scratched in a different hand, is the verb niko, meaning “I win!” The author of the word niko isn’t known—he might have been rejoicing after the competition or self-congratulating beforehand—but the sentiment is very appropriate to the place where athletes passed.c
The tunnel itself was cut through the soft bedrock, and its walls and rounded ceiling were built with shaped stones. Athletes would enter and depart the stadium through the tunnel, which led from the stadium floor to a smallish building of about 2,000 square feet with a three-sided interior courtyard. This was the apodyterion, or ancient locker room. It was here that the athletes undressed, stored their clothes and oiled their bodies in preparation for competition.
In 1994 we completed our excavations of the stadium.
We landscaped the site, adding paths, signs, benches and water fountains among the oleander, Scottish broom, pine trees and cypress trees that we had planted in 0551979, in order to hold back the erosion of the earth embankments. A parking lot and a guard’s house were built at the entrance.
The site was turned over to the Greek state, and it officially opened to the public on July 7, 1994. The high point of the celebration, for the 1,500 people who had gathered, was to see the track used for races that duplicated, as precisely as possible, the races that had taken place there more than two millennia earlier. The participants dressed in the locker room, went through the tunnel, and ran out onto the track when their names were called. Judges dressed in black and carried long switches to flog those who committed fouls; and a trumpeter blasted a signal, followed by the herald’s announcement of each competitor’s name.
A helmet containing marble squares with letters on them was offered to the runners. The letter drawn by each corresponded to one of the lanes. Other judges made sure that the runners’ toes were firmly in the grooves. Theodosios Zavitsas, whose pick first touched the starting line during the 1974 excavations, called the start of the races: “Poda para poda [foot by foot], etim me [ready], apite [go]!” (The words poda para poda and apite were, in fact, used in the ancient festivals at the start of a race.) With the call, he pulled the release cords of the starting mechanism, the barrier cords were hurled to the ground and the race was on.
The finish line, set at the 300-foot mark, was watched by another set of judges, who tied a ribbon around the winner’s head and awarded him a palm branch. The herald announced the name of the winner, who then ran a victory lap around the track while the crowd cheered and showered him with flowers—exactly as had been done in antiquity.
We were not authentic in two respects. First of all, both males and females participated, whereas in antiquity women were banned from taking part in panhellenic games on pain of death. Second, though athletes at the panhellenic festivals competed in the nude, we provided chitons (tunics) to those who wanted to wear them. Everyone did. But feet were bare, so that the sense of contact with the ancient soil and the starting blocks was immediate.
At the end of the races, the winners came together to receive their prize—a crown of wild celery. As the shadows grew long, we left the stadium having shared a thrilling and inspiring experience. With the blast of a trumpet, the thwack of the hysplex, the thud of feet running down the track and the roar of a real crowd, the stadium at Nemea had come back to life.
Photos courtesy of the author.
The Olympics may be the best known of ancient Greece’s athletic competitions, but the sanctuary at Olympia was only one of four sites where games were held. Greeks also flocked to games at Delphi, Isthmia and Nemea. These so-called panhellenic festivals were governed by a sacred truce that protected people traveling to any of the four sites—where men from throughout the Greek-speaking world competed in boxing, wrestling and track-and-field events. A crown of vegetal matter was awarded to the victors—olive at Olympia, laurel at Delphi, pine at Isthmia and wild celery at Nemea. The best athletes were those who […]
You have already read your free article for this month. Please join the BAS Library or become an All Access member of BAS to gain full access to this article and so much more.
Already a library member? Log in here.
Institution user? Log in with your IP address or Username
Footnotes
Three columns of the second sanctuary, the Temple of Nemean Zeus, still stand; some of the columns were taken down about 425 A.D. by Christians seeking building material for a new basilica in the region; 33 other columns were left lying around, and recently we have begun to reconstruct some of them.
This objectivity was largely missing from the musical competitions that were held originally at Delphi and Isthmia, and later at Nemea. These were decided by a panel of judges susceptible to influence and prejudice. Hence the Olympics, which did not include musical competitions, came to be regarded as the purest, most corruption-free of the games.
The tunnel would later be used as a place of refuge by an early Christian attempting to avoid the onslaught of the Slavic invasion of Greece in 585 A.D. (By this time, the stadium had long been abandoned, and a farming community populated the Nemean valley.) Before he was caught, he hid his coins under a stone. His scattered skeletal remains and the traces of a wound on the top of his skull tell the story of his violent end, a fate that befell the entire Nemean valley.