§ 9 The Judges
The institution of the dramatic contests at the different Attic festivals has now been described in detail. As regards the management of the competition many points still remain to be considered, viz. the selection of the judges, the mode of giving the verdict, the prizes for poets and actors, and the public records of the results. First as to the judges. The number of the judges in the comic contests was five.128 The number in the tragic contests was probably the same, but there is no direct evidence upon the subject. The process of selection seems to have been as follows.129 Several days before the actual commencement of the festival the Council, assisted by the choregi, elected by vote a preliminary list of judges. A certain number of names were selected from each of the ten tribes of Attica. The different choregi, as was natural, endeavoured to get their own partisans upon the list. The names of the persons chosen were then inscribed upon tablets, and the tablets were placed in ten urns, each urn containing the names belonging to a single tribe. The urns were then carefully locked up and sealed in the presence of the prytanes and choregi, handed over to the custody of the treasurers, and deposited in the Acropolis. The preliminary list of judges was kept a secret from every one except the Council and the choregi, in order that no improper influence might be brought to bear upon them. The penalty for tampering with the urns was death. It is not known from what class the nominees were selected, or whether any property qualification was necessary. Obviously the judges in the dramatic and dithyrambic contests had a very delicate office to perform. If their verdict was to be of value, it was necessary that they should be men of culture and discernment. It is most likely therefore that there was some limitation upon the number of persons qualified to act in this capacity.
Until the time of the festival the preliminary list of citizens remained sealed up in urns in the Acropolis. On the first day of the competitions the ten urns were produced in the theatre, and placed in some prominent position. The persons whose names were contained in the urns were all present in the theatre. Probably they received a special summons from the archon shortly before the festival. At the commencement of the contest the archon proceeded to draw a single name from all the urns in succession. The ten persons whose names were drawn constituted the second list of judges, and each of them represented one of the ten tribes of Attica. After being selected by lot in the manner described, they were called forward by the archon, and took a solemn oath that they would give an impartial verdict.130 They were then conducted to seats specially appointed for them, and the contest began.131 At the end of the performances each of them gave his vote, writing upon a tablet the names of the competitors in order of merit.132 These tablets, ten in number, were then placed in an urn, and the archon proceeded to draw forth five of them at random. The result of the competition was decided in accordance with these five lists, and the persons whose tablets were drawn from the urn constituted the ultimate body of five judges. It thus appears that up to the very last the judges who recorded their votes were not sure whether the votes would eventually have effect, or turn out to be so much waste paper. This uncertainty was of course a great obstacle to intimidation and bribery. After the competition was over, and the verdict announced, the names of the five judges, whose votes had decided the day, were not kept secret. It was known how each of them had voted. But the other votes, which had been recorded but not drawn from the urn, were destroyed without being made public.133 It was naturally considered a much greater honour to win a victory by the unanimous vote of all five judges than by a mere majority of one.134 But it is very doubtful whether any public record was kept of the number of votes by which a victory was gained.
Whether the decision of the judges was generally given with discernment, and how far it corresponded with the ultimate verdict of posterity, is a question of some interest. Both Aeschylus and Sophocles were usually successful, and this speaks highly for the taste of the judges. Aeschylus won thirteen victories; and as he produced four plays on each occasion, it follows that no less than fifty-two of his plays obtained the first prize. Whether the total number of his plays was seventy or ninety, the proportion of victories was very large.135 Sophocles was equally fortunate. He won eighteen victories at the City Dionysia, and at least two at the Lenaea.136 The number of his plays, as given by different authorities, varies from a hundred-and-four to a hundred-and-thirty.137 Thus on the lowest estimate considerably more than half his plays gained the first position. Euripides was not so successful. He only won five victories, though he wrote between ninety and a hundred plays.138 His failure was partly due to the fact that he often had the misfortune to contend against Sophocles. He was beaten by Sophocles in 438 and 431, and probably on many other occasions of which no record has been preserved.139 But at other times he was defeated by very inferior poets. In 415 he was beaten by Xenocles, and on another occasion by the obscure poet Nicomachus.140 But the most surprising verdict of which there is any record is the defeat of the Oedipus Tyrannus of Sophocles by Philocles, the nephew of Aeschylus.141 Of course the other three plays, along with which the Oedipus Tyrannus was produced, may not have been of equal merit. Still it must always seem an extraordinary fact, and a proof of the fallibility of Athenian judges, that a play which is generally allowed to be one of the greatest dramas of antiquity should have been defeated by a third-rate poet such as Philocles.
Verdicts of this indefensible character might be due to various causes. The judges might be corrupt, or might be intimidated. The spirit of emulation ran very high at these contests, and men were often not very particular as to the means by which they obtained the victory. There is an instance in one of the speeches of Lysias. The defendant is showing that the prosecutor had been on very friendly terms with him a short time before. The proof he brings forward is that when he was choregus at the City Dionysia he got the prosecutor appointed on the preliminary list of judges for the express purpose of voting for his own chorus. The prosecutor was pledged to vote for the chorus of the defendant, whether it was good or bad. He appears to have actually done so; but unfortunately, at the final drawing, his name was not selected, and his vote was therefore of no value.142 Another example of the use of corruption is afforded by the case of Meidias, who is said to have won the victory with his chorus of men at the City Dionysia by bribing or intimidating the judges.143 Similarly at a contest of boys’ choruses, Alcibiades, in spite of his outrageous conduct in assaulting a rival choregus, won the first prize, because some of the judges were afraid to vote against him, and others had been bought over to his side.144 The verdict of each individual judge was made public. Hence it is easy to see that judges might often be afraid to incur the hostility of rich and unscrupulous citizens by voting against them. The above instances all refer to dithyrambic contests. No doubt in these cases, as the whole tribe was concerned with the result, party feeling ran exceptionally high. In the dramatic competitions only individuals were engaged, and there was less general excitement about the result. Yet even here corrupt influences were sometimes employed. Menander, the greatest comic poet of his time, was often defeated by Philemon owing to jobbery and intrigue similar to that described above.145
One not unfrequent cause then of unfair verdicts must have been corruption and intimidation. There is also another point to be kept in view in estimating the value of the decisions of the ancient judges. The plays of Sophocles and Euripides were no doubt immeasurably superior, as literary works, to the plays of Philocles, Xenocles, and Nicomachus, by which they were defeated. And yet in these and similar instances the verdicts of the judges may perhaps have had some justification. One is apt to forget the importance of the manner in which the play was presented upon the stage. Even in modern times an inferior play, if well mounted and acted, is more impressive than a good play badly performed. This must have been still more the case in the ancient drama, where the singing and dancing of the chorus formed such an important element in the success of the performance. It can easily be seen that, however well a play was written, if it was ill-mounted, and if the chorus was badly trained, this would greatly diminish the chances of success. Now the ancient poet was dependent upon his choregus for the mounting of the piece and for the selection of the chorus. If the choregus was rich and generous the play was put upon the stage in the very best manner, with all the advantages of fine dresses and a well-trained chorus. An ambitious choregus spared no pains to do his part of the work thoroughly. But if the choregus was a miserly man he tried to do the thing as cheaply as possible. He hired inferior singers, and cut down the prices of the dresses and other accessories. Hence the success of a play depended nearly as much upon the choregus as upon the poet. Several examples illustrate this fact. Demosthenes, shortly before his death, is said to have dreamt that he was acting in a tragedy in a contest with Archias; but although he was highly successful, and produced a great impression upon the audience, he was defeated in the contest because of the wretched manner in which the play was mounted upon the stage.146 Then there is the case of Nicias. He was a man of great wealth, but not of commanding talents. Accordingly he tried to win popularity by the magnificence with which he performed his duties as choregus. The result was that he obtained the victory in every competition in which he engaged.147 Antisthenes is another instance of a rich choregus who, although he knew nothing about music and poetry, was always successful in his contests, because he spared no expense in the preparations.148 There is an example of a different kind of choregus in one of the speeches of Isaeus. A certain Dicaeogenes regarded his office of choregus merely as a burden, and tried to perform it in the most economical manner. The consequence was that he was always unsuccessful. He engaged in a dithyrambic and tragic contest, and in a contest of pyrrhic dancers. On the first occasion he was last but one, on the other two occasions he was last.149 Obviously the tragic poet who had the misfortune to be associated with Dicaeogenes would have a very small chance of success. The above examples show very clearly that the money of the choregus was almost as important towards securing victory as the genius of the poet.
The best critics would attend mainly to the merits of the piece in itself, apart from the splendour of the accompaniments. But the mass of the spectators would be dazzled by gorgeous dresses and effective singing and dancing. And the mass of the spectators had a great deal to do with the verdict. If they were strongly in favour of a particular poet, it was difficult for the judges to act in opposition to their wishes. The judges were liable to prosecution and imprisonment if their verdict was supposed to be unjust; and the case would be tried before a jury chosen from the very audience which they had thwarted.150 That the multitude on occasions made their wishes known most emphatically, and brought great pressure to bear upon the judges, is shown by Aelian’s account of the first performance of the Clouds. The story is a fable, but is interesting as an illustration of the occasional behaviour of an Athenian audience. It is said that the people were so delighted with the Clouds, that they applauded the poet more than they had ever done before, and insisted on the judges placing the name of Aristophanes first upon the list.151 Plato laments on several occasions the despotism exercised by the audience in the theatre. In former times, he says, the verdict was not decided by ‘hisses and unmusical shouts, as at the present day, nor by applause and clapping of hands’, but the rabble were compelled by the attendants to keep quiet. In another place he says that the judge should be the instructor, not the pupil, of the audience, and should refuse to be intimidated by their shouts into giving a false verdict. But at the present day, he adds, the decision rests with the multitude, and is practically decided by public vote, and the result is the degeneracy of poets and spectators alike.152 These passages of Plato prove how much the judges were under the dominion of the audience; and a general audience would be especially likely to be carried away by the splendour of the choregic part of the exhibition, by the music, dancing, and scenery. But on the whole, in spite of occasional cases of corruption, and in spite of the despotism of the multitude, one would be inclined to say, arguing from results, that the judges performed their duties well. The best proof of their fairness lies in the continued success of Aeschylus and Sophocles.153