Fig. 27.
The wine-press, which is shown in section in [Fig. 28], had, like the precinct, had a long history. It had been rebuilt more than once. The paved floors of two successive structures are clearly visible. The upper one is smaller than the lower, and, of course, of later date. It is, however, below the level of the Bakcheion, and must have been underground when the Bakcheion was built. The lower wine-press is at the same level as the Lesche, on the opposite side of the road, which is known to be of the 4th century B.C. Under this 4th century wine-press is a pavement which must have belonged to a third, yet earlier structure. It may be noted that these wine-presses are in every respect exactly similar to those in use among the Greeks to-day. The wine-press within the precinct is not the only one that came to light; scattered about near at hand were several others. Two can be seen on the plan in [Fig. 35]. It was indeed a place of wine-presses, a Lenaion.
Fig. 28.
Fig. 29.
The wine-press in itself would mark the precinct as belonging to Dionysos, but there was more evidence forthcoming. In the centre of the precinct is the foundation in poros stone of a large altar, 3·10 metres square ([Fig. 29]). In this foundation there once were four holes; three of them remain, and the fourth may be safely supplied. These holes are evidently intended for the supports on which the actual altar-table rested. Such altar-tables are familiar in vase-paintings, and seem to have been in use specially in the cult of Dionysos; they held the wine-jars offered to the god, and baskets of fruit such as those on which the attendants of the Queen took their oath ([p. 85]). Moreover, the actual altar-slab of just such a table has been found in Attica, and it bears an inscription to Dionysos Auloneus[215]. Yet another important point remains. On the West step of the altar foundation a long groove is sunk in the stone. Its purpose is obvious. Both on the Acropolis and elsewhere in sacred precincts such grooves are found, and they served to contain the bases of stelae, on which decrees, dedications, and the like were inscribed. Is it not at least possible that we have here not only the altar on which the Queen took her oath, but the groove in which was set up the very stele on which it was inscribed, the stele which stood ‘alongside of the altar’ (παρὰ τὸν βωμόν)?
We have, then, a precinct secluded from the main road; within it, open to the air, a great altar. But inside this precinct not a single inscription nor any sort of votive offering has come to light. In a precinct so important this at first sight seems strange. The explanation lies to hand. Votive offerings are meant to be seen, meant to show forth the piety of the worshipper as well as the glory of the god. Was it worth while to dedicate an offering in a precinct that was open but for one day in the whole year? Apparently not. This was essentially a ‘mystery’ sanctuary, with no touch of the museum.
In the sanctuary of Dionysos-in-the-Marshes we expect not only precinct and altar but an actual temple, the existence of which we know, not from Thucydides, but from the scholiast[216] on the Frogs of Aristophanes. Commenting on the word ‘marsh’ he says, ‘a sacred place of Dionysos, in which there is a dwelling and a temple of the god.’ Callimachus in the Hekale says,