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 GREEK LIFE AND STORY 
 
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PICTURES 
 
 FROM 
 
 GREEK LIFE AND STORY 
 
 THE REV. A. J. CHURCH, M.A. 
 
 LATELY PROFESSOR OF LATIN IN UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON ; AUTHOR OF 
 "three greek CHILDREN," " TO THE LIONS,"" A YOUNG MACE- 
 DONIAN IN THE ARMY OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT," ETC., ETC. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON 
 Ubc 'KnlcftcrDockcc press 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1893 
 BY 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 OHAPTEB FAGK 
 
 I. STATESMAN AND POET 1 
 
 II. A FAMOUS MAKRIAGE 14 
 
 III. THE EXILES OF PHOC^A 21 
 
 IV. THE BATTLE-FIELD OF FREEDOM 29 
 
 V. THE THREE HUNDRED ..... 41 
 
 VI. THE WOODEN WALLS 50 
 
 VII. BOW AGAINST SPEAR 66 
 
 VIII. SPOILT BY PROSPERITY 79 
 
 IX. TRAITOR OR PATRIOT? 90 
 
 X. IN THE THEATRE AT ATHENS 101 
 
 XI. A MODEL ARISTOCRAT 119 
 
 XII. A STATESMAN AND HIS FRIENDS 127 
 
 XIII. THE GREAT PLAGUE OF ATHENS 13G 
 
 XIV. A COLONY 143 
 
 XV. THE HOLY ISLAND 158 
 
 XVI. THE FATE OF PLAT^EA 176 
 
 340224 
 
VIII CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTEB PACK 
 
 XVII. THE FATAL EXPEDITION 197 
 
 XVIII. THE LAST STRUGGLE 240 
 
 XIX. THE EYE OF GREECE 250 
 
 XX. THE lion's cub 262 
 
 XXI. THE WISEST OF MEN 275 
 
 XXII. THE WILLING PRISONER 288 
 
 XXIII. THE CUP OF HEMLOCK 296 
 
 XXIT. THE ONE HERO OF THEBES .. 307 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 HORSEMEN. 
 NON . 
 
 FROM THE 
 
 FRIEZE OF THE PARTHE- 
 
 , Frontispiece 
 
 PAGE 
 
 MAP OF MARATHON . . . . facing page 29 
 
 MAP OF THERMOPYL/E . . . . " " 29 
 
 ATHENA PARTHENOS. THE VARVAKEION STATUETTE 50 
 DELPHI. GENERAL VIEW, SHOWING THE PH^D- 
 
 RIDDES ROCKS AND THE RAVINE OF CASTALIA 54 
 HERODOTUS. FROM A BUST IN THE FARNESE COL- 
 LECTION AT NAPLES 78 
 
 THEMISTOCLES. FROM A BUST IN THE VATICAN . 90 
 
 BUST OF THUCYDIDES 96 
 
 THEATRE OF DIONYSUS. HYMETTUS IN THE DIS- 
 TANCE 102 
 
 SOPHOCLES. FROM THE MARBLE STATUE IN THE 
 
 LATERAN GALLERY 112 
 
 iESCHYLUS. FROM A BUST IN THE CAPITOLINE 
 
 MUSEUM AT ROME . . . . . I16 
 PERICLES. FROxM A BUST IN THE VATICAN . . I26 
 ASPASIA. FROM A BUST FOUND NEAR CIVITA- 
 VECCHIA 134 
 
 ALCIBIADES. FROM A BUST IN THE CHIARAMONTI 
 
 MUSEUM IN THE VATICAN . . , . 200 
 
 EURIPIDES. FROM A BUST IN THE MUSEUM AT 
 
 NAPLES 238 
 
 ARISTOPHANES. FROM A BUST FOUND NEAR TUS- 
 
 CULUM 262 
 
 SOCRATES. FROM A BUST IN THE VILLA ALBANI 
 
 (near NAPLES) 288 
 
 PLATO. FROM A BRONZE BUST AT NAPLES . . 296 
 
CHAPTER L 
 
 STATESMAN AND POET. 
 
 SOLON 18 the first figure that stands out distinctly 
 in Greek story. When I say this, I do not 
 mean to deny the historical reality of all the legen- 
 dary heroes. There may well have been, for instance, 
 an actual Theseus, a strong man who cleared Attica 
 of brigandage, and brought all its towns and 
 independent tribes into one political entity. But the 
 life of Theseus, as Plutarch tells it, is clearly a 
 romance, while the life of Solon, by the same writer, 
 is as clearly an actual biography. Very possibly 
 some things in it are not facts, but it has throughout 
 the note of reality. 
 
 Solon was of the noblest Athenian birth, claiming 
 descent, indeed, from the patriot King Codrus.* Hia 
 
 Codrus was King of Athens so the story goes when the 
 Dorians, having conquered the greater part of the Pelopon- 
 nesus, proceeded to attack Attica. It had been prophesied that 
 that nation should be yictorious whose king should perish. 
 
 1 
 
2 STATESMAN AND POET. 
 
 father had greatly impaired the family fortunes by 
 his munificence, and the young Solon was constrained 
 to repair them by trade. Trade in those days implied 
 adventure. The trader did not stay at home to buy 
 and sell in an inglorious security, but was ever on 
 the search for new markets, and did the work of an 
 explorer, though always with a view to his own 
 advantage. Solon, indeed, was no idealist. Though 
 reckoned among the Seven Wise Men of Greece, his 
 wisdom was of a practical, even vulgar type. To 
 describe him by names which belong, of course, to 
 a much later time, he was an Epicurean rather than 
 a Stoic. He does not affect to despise pleasure; on 
 the contrary, he declares his appreciation of it in 
 terms that are undignified and even coarse. He 
 avows with perfect frankness his wish for wealth. 
 He will not, indeed, consent to acquire it by unjust 
 rules; to do that provokes the divine wrath; but 
 
 Codrus accordingly disguised himself in the dress of a country- 
 man, entered the Dorian camp, and provoked a quarrel, in which 
 he was killed. The people were so impressed by this act of 
 self-sacrifice that they resolved not to dim the lustre, which 
 thus had attached itself to the kingly office, by allowing that 
 office to pass into inferior hands. Codrus, accordingly, was thp 
 last of the Kings of Athens, though the title of one of the 
 body of magistrates who performed their duties was " King- 
 Archon." The King-Archon had no political pre-eminence, but 
 discharged certain religious functions which could only be 
 performed, it was thought, by a royal or quasi-royal personage. 
 
STATESMAN AND POET. 8 
 
 he holds it to be among the most desirable of human 
 goods. 
 
 Solon's first appearance in public life was eminently 
 successful, and probably did much to give him the 
 influence which he afterwards acquired over his 
 countrymen. Athens and Megara had long contended 
 for the possession of Salamis, a small island which 
 lies close to the harbour of the former city, and 
 would, in the hands of an enemy, be a perpetual 
 menace to its trade. The fortune of war went so 
 decidedly against the Athenians that they abandoned 
 the struggle, and even passed a law which imposed 
 the penalty of death on anyone who should suggest 
 its renewal. Solon resolved to run the risk. He 
 caused a report to be spread that he was mad 
 madness is invested with a certain sanctity and even 
 respect in the eyes of a half-civilized people. When 
 this had gained sufficient credence, he rushed into 
 the Assembly, and taking his stand on the stone which 
 the public crier was accustomed to occupy when he 
 announced news of importance to the city, he told 
 the people what he thought about Salamis. This he 
 put in the form of verse. The poem was a hundred lines 
 in length, and was, says Plutarch, who had it before him 
 when he wrote, admirably composed. The eight lines 
 that have been preserved go far to justify this praise. 
 His friends and kinsmen, led by Pisistratus, of whom 
 we shall soon hear again, loudly applauded. The 
 
4 STATESMAN AND POET. 
 
 people were taken by storm. The law was hastily 
 repealed, and an expedition which Solon was to 
 command was determined upon. 
 
 His first step was to assure himself of divine 
 favour. He consulted the oracle of Delphi, and was 
 told that he must propitiate the heroes of the island. 
 This he did by landing at night, and performing the 
 customary sacrifices in secrecy. The attack which 
 followed was, as may be seen, skilfully contrived, 
 though it may be doubtful whether the story of 
 Solon's stratagem is authentic. According to this, he 
 dressed up a number of Athenians as women, provid- 
 ing them at the same time with arms, which they 
 concealed under their feminine apparel. This done, 
 he sent a messenger, in the guise of a deserter, to 
 the Megarian garrison in Salamis, with information 
 that they might find a number of Athenian women 
 celebrating a festival on the shore at a time and 
 place specified. The garrison fell into the trap, and 
 suffered so disastrous a loss that the island was left 
 without defence. According to another account he 
 had recourse to a more ordinary kind of strategy. 
 The result was that Athens acquired possession of the 
 island, though, as Megara was not disposed to accept 
 its defeat, not till after an arbitration which Sparta 
 decided in favour of the Athenians. 
 
 Solon's next exploit was to procure the punishment 
 f the inhabitants of Cirrha, the seaport by which 
 
. STATESMAN AND POET. 
 
 the oracle of Delphi was approached. The Cirrhaeans 
 were accustomed, it seems, to exact heavy imports 
 from visitors to the oracle; they were even accused 
 of robbery and violence. Solon induced the council 
 of the Amphictyons to interfere ; after a long struggle 
 Cirrha was subdued. In the story told by one writer, 
 many centuries after the event, it is true, we find 
 Solon getting rid of his enemies by poisoning the 
 waters of the river which they drank. 
 
 But more important work remained for Solen to do. 
 He had to set the domestic affairs of the Athenian 
 people on a sound basis. The condition of the lower 
 classes of Attica, as it is described in the fragments 
 of Solon's verses which have come down to us, 
 curiously resembles that which Livy gives us of the 
 Roman populace in the early days of the republic, 
 Both were overwhelmed with debt. What Solon did 
 to relieve this state of things, it is impossible pre- 
 cisely to say. The common account of the matter is 
 that he introduced a measure which was called the 
 " Removal of Burdens." All mortgages on land were 
 summarily abolished, all debtors who had been deprived 
 of their liberty were set free, all who had been sold 
 into foreign slavery were ransomed. This account 
 does Qot seem altogether credible. Such securities 
 as mortgages, for instance, belong to a more 
 advanced condition of things than seems possible in 
 Solon's time. But the subject is too long and difficult 
 
6 STATESMAN AND POET. . 
 
 to discuss in this place. That Solon brought about 
 a great change in the tenure of the land may be taken 
 as certain. This change may have resembled the 
 great reform worked out by Stein in Prussia in 
 the early years of this century. Possibly a parallel 
 may be found to it in the Irish Land legislation of 
 our own time. Whatever may have been the details 
 of his measure, Solon certainly gained and probably 
 deserved the credit of having finally settled a very 
 difficult question. We never hear again in Athenian 
 history of agrarian troubles. 
 
 This social legislation was accompanied by political 
 reforms. The citizens of Athens were divided into 
 classes which remind us with curious exactness of 
 the constitution attributed to the Roman King Ser- 
 vius Tullius. The division was based on property, the 
 standard employed being such as we might expect to 
 find in so early a state of society. The first class, 
 which had the monopoly of all the high offices of 
 state, consisted of such as possessed an annual income 
 equal to the value of five hundred medimni (seven 
 hundred bushels) of wheat. Next to these came those 
 who had from three to five hundred medimni. These 
 were supposed to be wealthy enough to keep a horse 
 and 80 to serve as mounted soldiers, and were called 
 Knights. Citizens who owned from two to three 
 hundred, and, as being able to keep a team of oxen, 
 were termed " Teamsmen, " constituted the third class. 
 
STATESMAN AND POEl. 7 
 
 This supplied the heavy-armed infantry of the army. 
 All whose income was less than two hundred medimni 
 formed a fourth class. As being unable to furnish 
 themselves with heavy armour, they were called upon 
 to serve as light troops only, or if, as sometimes 
 happened, the roll of the heavy-armed had to be 
 supplemented from them, their accoutrements were 
 furnished by the state. This fourth class was exempt 
 from direct taxation, and was ineligible to public 
 office. Members of the second and third could hold 
 posts of minor importance, and paid a progressive tax 
 on capital, the third being rated at five times, the 
 second at ten times, and the first at twelve times 
 the amount of their income. 
 
 Other details of Solon's political legislation must be 
 left unnoticed. What has been said is enough to show 
 the principle by which it was guided. This was not 
 the modern doctrine of inherent political rights which 
 every citizen possesses. On the contrary, it was little 
 more than the representation of property. In after- 
 times the constitution was largely modified in a demo- 
 cratic sense. That for the present it did not satisfy 
 the people is evident from what followed. 
 
 Afraid that his countrymen so the story runs 
 might change the political order which he had devised, 
 Solon exacted from them a promise, by which they 
 bound themselves not to alter for ten years any of 
 the laws which had been thus passed, except with 
 
8 STATESMAN AND POET. 
 
 his own consent; and then, to make the giving ol 
 this consent impossible, he left his country for a 
 prolonged period of travel. 
 
 Round this travel various romantic stories have 
 gathered. Solon's first visit, it is said, was to Egypt, 
 where he spent some time in discussion with the most 
 learned priests of the country. It was from them, 
 according to Plato, that he heard the story of the 
 continent of Atlantis, lost, as the legend had it, 
 under the waves of the Western Ocean. From Egypt 
 he retraced his steps to Cyprus, where he was the 
 guest of one Philocyprus. This prince he persuaded to 
 exchange his abode among the hills, for a more con- 
 venient and fertile settlement on the plains, and he 
 did his best to make the new town a safe and well- 
 ordered community. The gratitude of prince and 
 people was shown, it was said, by giving the place 
 the name of its benefactor. 
 
 But the most interesting of Solon's experiences of 
 travel was that which befell him at the Court of 
 Croesus, King of Lydia. As long ago as the time 
 of Plutarch this story excited the suspicion of the 
 critics, who found in it, indeed, great chronological 
 difficulties. Great they may be, but they are scarcely 
 insuperable. Solon, it is true, must have been 
 an old man at the time, for his legislation is assigned 
 with considerable probability' to the year 595 B.C., 
 whereas Croesus did not begin to reign till the year 
 
STATESMAN AND POET. 9 
 
 568. Yet, as we shall see, Solon was certainly alive 
 eight years after this latter date, for he saw his own 
 constitution overthrown by the usurpation of Pisistratus. 
 It is only necessary to postpone the travel, and, 
 instead of attributing it to a period closely following 
 the legislation, to suppose that it was only when 
 Solon saw the growing tendency to change, that he 
 took the opportunity of securing his country against 
 it for as long a time as he could. Anyhow the 
 story is so picturesque, and so full of Greek thought 
 in its most characteristic aspects, that we should 
 lose it with the greatest regret. 
 
 It runs thus : " Croesus lodged his Athenian guest in 
 the royal palace, and having bidden his servants 
 conduct him over his treasuries, he put this question 
 to him: * Stranger of Athens, we have heard much 
 of thy wisdom and of thy travel, how thou goest over 
 many lands, seeking wisdom, and I have conceived 
 the desire of asking thee whom of all the men that 
 thou hast seen up to this day thou didst deem the 
 most happy?* This question put Croesus, thinking 
 himself to be the happiest of men. But Solon, in 
 nowise flattering the King, but answering him accord- 
 ing to the very truth, said, *Tellus the Athenian, 
 King.' Marvelling much at this saying, the King 
 cried, not without anger, *Why judgest thou Tellus 
 to have been the happiest of men?' Solon made 
 answer, * Firstly, Bang, because his country was 
 
10 STATESMAN AND P^ET, 
 
 prosperous, and he had sons that were both comely 
 and good, and to each of these sons children were 
 bom that did not die before their time ; and secondly, 
 because, after a happy life, he came to a glorious 
 end, for there being a battle between the Athenians 
 and their neighbours at Eleusis, he did good service 
 for his country, and routed the enemy, and so died 
 right nobly, so that the Athenians buried him where 
 he fell at the public cost, and paid him the greatest 
 honours/ Then Croesus asked him again, 'But 
 whom hast thou seen that was next in happiness to 
 this Tellus?* for he said to himself, 'Surely he will 
 put me next.' Then said Solon, 'I judge Cleobis 
 and Biton to have been next in happiness to Tell us. 
 These were two youths of Argos. They had a suf- 
 ficiency of worldly goods, and they were stronger 
 than all other men, so that, besides winning many 
 prizes at the games, they did this thing that I now 
 relate. The men at Argos held a great feast to 
 Her^ the goddess, who hath a great and famous teni- 
 ple in their city. Now it is a custom that the 
 priestess of Here, who was the mother of these men, 
 should be drawn in a waggon from the city to the 
 temple, but the oxen that should have drawn the 
 waggon were not yet come in from the fields. 
 Therefore, as the time was short and the matter 
 pressed, the young men harnessed themselves to the 
 waggon, their mother sitting upon it. So they came 
 
STATESMAN AND POET. J 1 
 
 to the Temple, the distance being forty and five 
 furlongs. And when all the people of Argos came 
 round them, the men praising the sons for their 
 great strength and the women praising the mother 
 for that she had borne children so noble, the priest- 
 ess, in the joy of her heart, stood before the image 
 and prayed that the goddess would give to her sons 
 that which the Gods judge it best for a man to have. 
 So she prayed; and the young men, having offered 
 sacrifice and made merry with their companions, lay 
 down to sleep in the temple, and woke no more. 
 Thereupon the Argives commanded that statues of 
 the young men should be made, that they might offer 
 them to the god at Delphi.' When Solon gave the 
 second place to these young men, Crcesus was very 
 wroth, and said, 'Man of Athens, thou countest my 
 happiness to be nothing worth, putting me behind 
 common men.' To him Solor jiade answer, saying, 
 '0 King, the life of man is very full of chance. I 
 see that thou hast great wealth and rulest over 
 many men. But as for that thou askest of me, I 
 count thee not happy, till I shall know how thou 
 hast ended thy days. For he that is rich above 
 measure is in nowise happier than he that hath 
 sufficient only for the day, unless his good fortune 
 abide with him and give him all that is to be desired 
 all the days of his life. For many men that have 
 very great wealth are yet very unhappy, and many 
 
12 STATBSMAM AND POST. 
 
 that have neither poverty nor riches have yet great 
 happiness. Verily, if such a man, being whole in 
 body, and in good health, have also good children, 
 and, over and above these things, also end his life well, 
 then I judge him to be the happy man whom thou 
 seekest. But till he die, I say not so, but call him, 
 not happy, indeed, but fortunate. Also it may not be 
 that one man in his life should comprehend all good 
 things. Even as no country sufficeth for itself by 
 producing all things, but having certain things of its 
 own, receiveth others from other countries, so no 
 man sufficeth for himself; some things he hath, but 
 some he receiveth from others. Whosoever, King, 
 keeping the greatest store of things, shall end his life 
 in seemly fashion, this man is rightly to be called happy. 
 For, indeed, we ' must look to the the end, to see how it 
 shall turn out; the gods give to many some causes 
 of happiness, yet in the end overthrow them utterly.' 
 
 So did Solon speak, but he did not please King 
 Croesus. Rather the King took no account of him, 
 but judged him to be a foolish and ignorant person, 
 that thought lightly of present goods, and bade 
 men look to their end." 
 
 Solon, we may say, did not fulfil his own con- 
 dition of happiness. Before the end of life rame, h 
 saw all the work on which he had spent it undone. 
 His kinsman Pisistratus made himself despot of 
 Athens. Solon did all that he could to rouse the 
 
STATESMAN AND POET. 13 
 
 people to resistance. Finding that all his efiorts 
 were in vain, he took his armour and weapons and 
 laid them in the street before his door. " I have 
 done that I could for my country," he said, "now 
 my work is over." For himself he had no fears. 
 His friends asked him to what protection from the 
 despot's anger he looked? "To my old age," was 
 his reply. And Pisistratus, who, indeed, had no taste 
 for severities, did not think of harming him. He 
 treated him on the contrary with the greatest re- 
 spect. Solon died in peace somewhere about the 
 year 568 B.a 
 
CHAPTER n. 
 
 A FAMOUS MARRIAGE. 
 
 THE earliest form of government that we hear of 
 in Greece is what we may call " Constitutional 
 Monarchy. " The chiefs who led the Homeric hosts 
 into battle were, to adopt the phrase of Thucydides, 
 " hereditary kings with fixed prerogatives." The time 
 of their predominance was before the dawn of history; 
 80 was the time of their fall. When we begin to 
 see something like light in the story of the Greek 
 states, i.e. in the seventh century B.C., we find 
 ourselves again in an age of monarchy; but the rulers 
 are not of a constitutional kind. Their prerogatives 
 are not fixed. They are usurpers, or, to use the 
 Greek word, used without any intention of imputing 
 cruelty, ** tyrants. " ' 
 
 One of the most famous and, it may be added, 
 most respectable of the class, was Cleisthenes of Sicyon, 
 a small Doric city on the southern coast of the 
 Corinthian gulf, which claimed to take precedence in 
 
A FAMOUS MABRIAQE. 15 
 
 point of antiquity of all the Greek communities, 
 whether on the mainland or the islands. The first of 
 the line was Orthagoras, who raised himself to supreme 
 power from the humble station so tradition had it 
 of a cook, about the year 670 B.C. He represented 
 so much seems clear the non-Dorian element in 
 Sicyon, i.e. the revolt of the subject class against 
 the domination of an intruding race. He was, in fact, 
 a despot who raised himself to the throne by the 
 help of democratic support, and was probably not the 
 .tirst as he was certainly not the last of his kind. 
 Myron, possibly his son, more probably his grandson, 
 gained distinction for his city by winning a chariot- 
 race at Olympia. All the family were well known 
 as just and clement rulers. Cleisthenes came to the 
 throne about 600 B.C. He was one of the most 
 powerful princes of his time, taking a leading part 
 in the war which, at the suggestion of Solon, was 
 enjoined by the general council of the tribes, the 
 Amphictyons, for the purpose of punishing the impiety 
 of the people of Cirrha.* 
 
 But what I am concerned with at present is the 
 curious story of how the wealth of Cleisthenes, who 
 was the last as well as the greatest of his house, 
 came into the possession of an Athenian family, and 
 while contributing to its rise, indirectly affected the 
 
 * Cirrha had abused her position in the neighbourhood of the 
 oracle of Delphi to harass and oppress visitors to the shrine 
 
16 FAMOUS MARBIAQE. 
 
 history of the most important state in Greece. This 
 story will be best told in the actual words of Herodotus 
 so far as I am able to give them an appropriate 
 English dress. 
 
 " Cleisthenes had a daughter whose name was 
 Agariste. Her he desired to give in marriage to the best 
 husband whom he could find in all the land of Greece. 
 It was the year of the Olympic festival, and he, having 
 won the prize for the race of four-horse chariots, 
 caused this proclamation to be made: * Whosoever 
 of the Greeks deems himself worthy to be the son- 
 in-law of Cleisthenes, let him come to Sicyon on the 
 sixtieth day from this present, or, if he will, before, 
 for Cleisthenes will, in the space of a year from the 
 said sixtieth day, take order concerning the marriage 
 of his daughter.* Thereupon such of the Greeks as 
 had a high esteem either of themselves or of their 
 country came as suitors for the maiden Agariste. 
 And the aforesaid Cleisthenes caused a running course 
 and a wrestling ring to be made for the trial of them. 
 From Italy came Smindyrides, son of Hippocrates, a 
 citizen of Sybaris, * a man that reached such a height 
 of luxury as never did any other; and indeed this 
 
 The Sybarites passed into a proverb for luxury, this Smin- 
 dyrides having the greatest extravagances gathered upon him. 
 He is said to have taken a thousand cooks and as many fowlers 
 and fishermen with him to Sicyon. He is the man who, sleeping 
 upon rose-leaves, complained that one had been crumpled under 
 
A FAMOUS MABRIAOS. 17 
 
 city of Sybaris was then at its very greatest pros- 
 perity. From Siris there came Daipasus, son of that 
 Amyris that was surnamed the Wise. These two 
 and none other came from Italy. From the Ionian 
 Gulf (the Adriatic Sea) came Amphimnestus, son of 
 Epistrophus, a man of Epidamnus ; he only came from 
 the Ionian Gulf. From ^tolia came Males, brother 
 of Titormus. This Titormus excelled all the Greeks 
 in strength, and flying from the face of men dwelt 
 in the extremest parts of the ^tolian land. From 
 the Peloponnesus came Leocedes, son to Pheidon, 
 despot of Argos. This Pheidon was he that estab- 
 lished weights and measures for the dwellers in the 
 Peloponnesus, and behaved himself more arrogantly 
 than all the other Greeks, driving out the men of 
 Elis from being masters of the Great Games, and 
 making himself master. 
 
 * Also there came Amiantus, son of Lycurgus, an 
 Arcadian of Trapezus, and Laphanes, an Azenian, of 
 the city of Paeus, son to that Euphorion, who received 
 in his house so they say in Arcadia the Twin 
 Brethren, and after that showed hospitality to all men. 
 From Elis came Onomastus, son of Agaeus. These 
 were they that came from the Peloponnesus. From 
 Athens came two, Megacles, son of Alcmsaon, the 
 
 him; and who declared that it fatigued him to see a man at 
 work in the fields. 
 
 2 
 
18 A FAMOUS MARRIAGE. 
 
 same that visited Croesus was, one.* Another suitor 
 from Athens was Hippoeleides, son of Tisander, than 
 whom no Athenian was richer or more comely. 
 From Eretria, which was at this time a prosperous 
 city, came Lysanias. None other came from Euboea. 
 From Thessaly came Diactorides, son of Cranon, one 
 of the family of Scopas, and from the Molossians, 
 Alcon. So many were the suitors. 
 
 * These, then, having come on the appointed day, 
 Cleisthenes first enquired of each his country and 
 lineage; and then, keeping them with him for a 
 whole year, made trial of their courage and temper 
 and education and manners, consorting with them 
 singly and in company. The younger sort he would 
 take to the gymnasium. But most of all did he make 
 experiment of them at the banquet, living with them 
 for the whole of this time and entertaining them 
 sumptuously. Of all the suitors none pleased him so 
 well as those that came from Athens; and of these 
 
 The chronology is hopelessly involved. Croesus succeeded 
 to the throne of Lydia in 568 i.e. forty years after the date 
 commonly given for the death of Cleisthenes. Yet here we have 
 a suitor for the hand of the daughter of Cleisthenes represented 
 as the son of an Athenian noble who paid this king a visit, of 
 course after this date. If we could read " father of that Alc- 
 maeon/ the difficulty would be diminished. As it was the 
 practice in the family to use the two names alternately, the 
 suggestion is so far probable. 
 
A FAMOUS MARRIAGE 19 
 
 two he was the more inclined to Hippocleides, both 
 on account of his courage, and because he was of 
 kin to the family of Cypselus of Corinth. When, 
 therefore, the day came for the settling of the mar- 
 riage and for Cleisthenes to declare whom he had 
 chosen out of all, he sacrificed a hundred oxen, and 
 entertained the suitors and, at the same time, all the 
 mhabitants of Sicyon. And when the banquet was 
 ended, the suitors had a contest among themselves 
 in music and in speaking, some subject being given. 
 As the drinking went on, Hippocleides, who had now 
 a mastery over the rest, bade the piper play him a 
 tune, and when the piper did so, he danced. And 
 dancing he pleased himself mightily; but Cleisthenes 
 looking on liked the whole business but little. Then 
 Hippocleides, halting awhile, bade a servant bring a 
 table. Thereon he mounted, and danced several 
 figures, first Spartan, then Athenian. Last of all, he 
 put his head on the table, and made a great show 
 with his legs. Now Cleisthenes, during the first 
 dance and during the second also, though he was 
 loathing that Hippocleides should be his son-in-law, 
 by reason of this shameless dancing of his, never- 
 theless restrained himself, not wishing to break out 
 upon him. But when he beheld him making this 
 show with his legs, he could restrain himself no 
 longer, but cried out, *Son of Tisander, thou hast 
 danced away thy wife ; ' to which the other answered, 
 
20 A FAMOUS MARRIAGE. 
 
 * Hippocleides doesn't care.' And these words became 
 a proverb. 
 
 Then Cleisthenes calling for silence, spake as fol- 
 lows, 'Suitors of my daughter, I commend you all, 
 and willingly would I favour you all were it pos- 
 sible, not choosing one from among you and reject- 
 ing all the others. But seeing that, having but one 
 daughter, I may not please you all, I do this. To 
 you that go away disappointed of their hope, I give 
 one talent of silver to each man. This is both for 
 the honour you have done me in seeking this marriage 
 and also for you long absence from home. But my 
 daughter Agariste I betroth to Megacles, son of 
 Alcmseon, of Athens, according to Athenian laws,' 
 
 * Thereupon, Megacles giving his consent, the mar- 
 riage followed in due course." 
 
 Whatever the details of this story may be worth, 
 t is clear that the family of the Alcmseonidae made 
 an alliance with the daughter of a foreign potentate, 
 and that by this alliance it was greatly aggrandized. 
 Cleisthenes, the author of the democratic constitution 
 of Athens, and Pericles, the ablest of Athenian 
 statesmen some generations later, were descendants 
 of the Sicyonian princesa. 
 
CHAPTER in. 
 
 TEE EXILES OF PHOC^A. 
 
 EARLY in the sixth century the precise date is 
 given as 546 B.C. a great change took place 
 in the condition of Western Asia, a change by which 
 the Greek colonies on the Mgean coast were pro- 
 foundly affected. These towns had struggled with 
 varying success to maintain their independence against 
 their powerful neighbours, the Lydian dynasty of the 
 Mermnadae, which had its capital at Sardis. Croesus, 
 the most powerful and most famous of these monarchs. 
 completed their subjugation. He did not, however, 
 deal harshly with them. They suffered little beyond 
 the imposition of a tribute, and the necessity of having 
 to pull down, or at least make a breach in their walls. 
 After a reign of about thirteen years Croesus himself 
 fell. He had provoked a conflict with the rising 
 power of the Persians, had fought an indecisive battle 
 with them on the border of his kingdom, and had 
 returned to Sardis to prepare for another campaign. 
 
22 THE EXILES OF PHOC^A. 
 
 This intention was frustrated by the unexpected energy 
 of the Persian leader. Cyrus followed him, attacked 
 him before the allies whom he had summoned to his 
 assistance, could join him, and inflicting on him a 
 severe defeat, shut him up in Sardis. The city fell 
 in the course of a few days, and the Lydian dynasty 
 ceased to exist. The Greek colonies sought an inter- 
 view with the conqueror, and endeavoured to obtain 
 from him the same easy terms of dependence which 
 they had enjoyed under Croesus. In Eastern fashion, 
 he answered them with a fable. It ran thus : 
 
 *A certain piper, seeing fishes in the sea, piped 
 to them, thinking that they would come out to him 
 on the' land. But being disappointed of this hope, 
 he took a cast-net, and enclosing therewith a great 
 multitude of them, drew them to shore. Then, seeing 
 them leaping about, he said to the fishes, 'cease now 
 from your dancing, for ye would not dance, when I 
 piped to you.'" 
 
 The application was this: Cyrus, on hearing of 
 the attack which the Lydian king intended to make 
 on him, had endeavoured to make a diversion by 
 rousing his Greek subjects against him. The Greeks, 
 satisfied with their condition, had refused his over- 
 tures, and this refusal he was not disposed to forgive. 
 Nothing was left for the cities but to defend them- 
 selves as best they could. 
 
 The first to be attacked was Phocsea. Though not 
 
THE EXILES OF PHOC^A. 23 
 
 the largest, it was in one way the most distinguished 
 of the Greek settlements in Asia. It had an admir- 
 able harbour, which is still one of the best on the 
 coast, and its citizens were the boldest and most 
 successful of the merchant adventurers who pushed 
 their commercial enterprise over all the coasts of the 
 Mediterranean, and even beyond the Pillars of Her- 
 cules. * Some twenty years before the date of whicK 
 I am now speaking, one of their trading ships and 
 it is a proof of their enterprising spirit that they 
 used for purposes of commercial exploration, not the 
 capacious merchantman but vessels of war had 
 reached Tartessus, f on the Atlantic coast. The king 
 of the Tartessians, Arganthonius by name, was so 
 pleased with the new-comers, that he begged them 
 to leave their home in Asia, and to settle in his 
 country, offering them the choice of any spot which 
 they might choose to select. When they declined 
 this offer, he presented them with a sum of money 
 which they were to spend in fortifying their city. 
 The time was now come when, as we may easily 
 suppose, the Phocaeans repented of their refusal. 
 The Persian general, Harpagus by name, invested 
 their town: notwithstanding the menacing language 
 of his master, Harpagus was not disposed to drive 
 the besieged to extremities. Full down," he said, 
 
 The Straits of Gibraltar. 
 
 t Commonly identified with Cadis. 
 
24 THE EXILES OF PHOOSA. 
 
 one of your battlements, and dedicate one of your 
 dwelling-houses to the King, and it will suffice. " But 
 the bold Phocseans were not disposed to make even 
 this acknowledgment of subjection. They sought, 
 however, to temporize. * Draw off your army, " they 
 said to the Persian commander, * and give us a day 
 for deliberation." Harpagus was not deceived. *I 
 know,' he replied "what you are thinking of; still 
 I will do what you say." Accordingly he retired from 
 the walls. The Phocaeans launched all their vessels 
 of war, put on board their wives and children, and 
 all the property which could be removed from the 
 temples * and private houses, and departed. Har- 
 pagus, returning next day, found himself master, as 
 he had probably expected, of an empty city. 
 
 The question was whither were the fugitives to 
 go? King Arganthonius was dead. He had lived 
 to an extreme old age, completing, we are told, the 
 one hundred and twentieth year of his age and the 
 eightieth of his reign. The voyage was too long to 
 take on the chance that his successor might be 
 equally friendly. The colony which they had planted 
 at a still earlier time on the south coast of Gaul, 
 though it was afterwards to grow into the powerful 
 city of Massilia (Marseilles), was then in a feeble 
 
 Herodotus specifies the images of the gods and the votive 
 offerings in the shrines, * but tells us that the statues, whether 
 of bronze or stone, and the paintings had to be left behind. 
 
THE EXILES OF PHOC^A. 26 
 
 condition. Under these circumstances they lookel 
 nearer home. Their first idea was to purchase from 
 the people of Chios some unoccupied islets known by 
 the name of the (Enussae. But the Chians were 
 afraid of their enterprising neighbours, and dreaded 
 the establishment of a rival trading station so close 
 to themselves. Accordingly, they refused the offer. 
 The Phocfleans then turned their thoughts to another 
 colony founded by themselves, and not so remote as 
 Massilia. This was Alalia in Corsica, then called 
 Cyrnus. To Alalia, therefore, they resolved to go, 
 but before going they executed a bloody revenge 
 on the intruders who had driven them from their 
 native town. They sailed back to Phocaea, and sur- 
 prising the Persian garrison which Harpagus had put 
 into the town, put them all to the sword. Probably 
 they had another motive besides revenge. They 
 knew their own weakness, and wished to make the 
 thought of return and submission impossible, by the 
 commission of a deed that the conqueror could not 
 be expected to pardon. The further safeguard of an 
 oath was added. They joined in invoking the heaviest 
 curses on the head of anyone who should draw back 
 from their contemplated enterprise; sinking a lump 
 of iron in the sea, they swore a solemn oath that 
 they would not return before the iron should float. 
 As it turned out, the Phocaean leaders had not over- 
 rated the danger of faint-heartedness or, perhaps I 
 
26 THE EXILES OP PHOC^A. 
 
 should say, home-sickness in their followers. The 
 larger half of the exiles braved the anger of heaven 
 and the more imminent danger of Persian vengeance 
 for their slaughtered countrymen, and returned to 
 their native town. They probably threw the blame 
 of the massacre upon their absent countrymen, and 
 Harpagus was not unwilling to believe them. 
 
 The bolder and more resolute spirits among the 
 exiles continued their voyage to Alalia, which they 
 reached in safety. They brought with them a for- 
 midable force of war-ships, no less than sixty pente- 
 conters or fifty- oared vessels, and they at once 
 took up an occupation which had been pursued in 
 the Mediterranean from time immemorial, and which, 
 indeed, has become extinct only within the memory 
 of men still living piracy. But they were intruding 
 on the domain of two powerful rivals, Etruria and 
 Carthage. Neither, we may presume, viewed the 
 practice with any disfavour, but they could not 
 tolerate it when carried on against themselves. An 
 alliance was formed between the two for the pur- 
 pose of putting down the new-comers. The com- 
 bined Carthaginian and Etrurian fleet, consisting of 
 one hundred and twenty ships, met the Phocaeans 
 near their new abode. A fierce conflict followed. 
 We have only the Greek account of the result, and 
 in this a victory is claimed for the Phocaeans, but 
 it was a victory that was not less disastrous than a 
 
THE EXILES OF PHOCfiA. 27 
 
 defeat. Forty out of the sixty penteconters were 
 sunk, and the remaining twenty had their heaks so 
 bent and blunted that they were unfit for service. 
 That their antagonists had suffered even more severely 
 may, perhaps, be concluded from the fact that they 
 did not attempt to attack again an enemy that was 
 practically defenceless. 
 
 But the continuance of this immunity could not be 
 relied upon, and the Phocaeans had to seek another 
 home. This they found on the west coast of Italy, 
 or, as it was then called, (Enotria. Vela, otherwise 
 called Velia and Elea, was the name of their final 
 settlement. The place was suggested by a citizen 
 of a neighbouring Greek settlement, Poseidonia, who 
 at the same time did the exiles the service of reviv- 
 ing their faith in the Divine guidance which they 
 had been attempting to follow. The unlucky expe- 
 dition to Cyrnus had been made in obedience to an 
 oracle, which had bidden them make Cyrnus the 
 object of their search. Their Poseidonian friend 
 explained to them that the true Cyrnus was not the 
 island so called, but a local hero worshipped at Vela 
 and reputed to be the son of Hercules. 
 
 Vela continued to flourish for many centuries, and 
 still exists. It is now called Castell a Mare della 
 Brucca. Under the name of Elea it became famous 
 as the seat of a school of philosophy known as the 
 Eleatic. The Phocsean settlers were joined by other 
 
28 THE EXILES OF PHOCAA. 
 
 exiles from Ionia, and among these was Xenophanos, 
 a native of Colophon, a philosopher and poet of no 
 mean eminence. 
 
 Little remains either of his speculations or of hii^ 
 verse. Perhaps we may with most reason regret the 
 poem in which he described the " Median Invasion," 
 and celebrated the foundation of Elea by his heroic 
 kinsmen, the "Exiles of Phocaea.' 
 
MARATHON 
 
 THERr.:OPYLAE 
 
 ,ytan^d> Gcj\JCstah^ 
 
CHAPTER 17. 
 
 THE BATTLEFIELD OF FREEDOM. 
 
 ALL the Greek cities of the mainland of Asia 
 Minor shared the fate of Phocsea, though all 
 were not equally resolute in protestin: against it. 
 The islands which lie near the western shore soon 
 lost their independence, and even the more remote 
 were threatened. Europe itself was not safe. Though 
 the Persian King Darius made a disastrous failure in 
 his attempt to annex the desolate wastes of Scythia, * 
 his lieutenants conquered Thrace and received the 
 submission of Macedonia. 
 
 By this last acquisition the Persian Empire was 
 brought up to the northern frontier of Mainland Greece, 
 and it became evident that the conquering spirit of the 
 new Asiatic power would not rest till an effort had 
 been made to bring the whole Hellenic race under 
 
 * The region now known as Southern Russia from the B. Prutb 
 to the mouths of the Don. 
 
30 THE BATTLE-FIELD OP FREEDOM. 
 
 its sway. Meanwhile the Asiatic Greeks had been 
 growing restless under the Persian rule. An open 
 revolt, which doubtless had been long meditated, was 
 hastened by personal causes. Histiseus, tyrant of 
 Miletus, had done a signal service to Darius,* and 
 the king had rewarded him by carrying him back to 
 his capital and making him one of his confidential 
 advisers. The Greek soon wearied of his splendid 
 captivity, and conceived the idea somewhat extrava- 
 gant, it seems to us of putting an end to it by 
 exciting a revolt among the King's Greek dependencies. 
 He hoped that he should himself be chosen to suppress 
 it. The ambition of his son-in-law and vicegerent at 
 Miletus had been working meanwhile to the same end. 
 This man, Aristagoras by name, had hoped to aggran- 
 dize himself by adding the island of Naxos to the 
 dominion of his Persian master. He had induced the 
 King to send a fleet under his orders. A Persian 
 noble was, however, associated with him in his command. 
 
 * Darius had transported his army across the Danube on a 
 floating bridge, constructed out of his fleet, and had left the 
 Greek contingents in his army to guard it. Their commanders 
 were strongly inclined to break it up. Miltiades of Athens, who 
 was tyrant of the Thracian Chersonese (the Athos peninsula and 
 its neighbours to the west), strongly urged this course. His- 
 tiaeus as strongly resisted it. He represented that their position 
 as despotic rulers depended on Persian support, and that the 
 destruction of Darius and his army would be followed by their 
 own falL 
 
THE BATTLE-FIELD OP FREEDOM. Si 
 
 A fierce quarrel broke out between the two colleagues, 
 and the Persian took his revenge by sending secret, 
 intelligence to Naxos of the meditated attack. The 
 Naxians, thus put on their guard, put themselves 
 into a state of defence, and the expedition failed, 
 leaving Aristagoras hopelessly involved. He had lost 
 his credit with the King, and he had made himself 
 responsible for a great part of the expenditure. In 
 the midst of his perplexity the message from His- 
 tiaeus arrived with the suggestion of a revolt, and he 
 saw in it a way out of his difiiculties. 
 
 His first step was to lay down his despotic power. 
 This was a most politic measure. To combine deliv- 
 erance from domestic tyranny and freedom from a 
 foreign yoke, was a prospect which appealed strongly 
 to the Greek mind. The tyrants were banished or 
 slain everywhere, and before many months had passed 
 every Greek city was in arms against the King. 
 
 Aristagoras sought allies in Mainland Greece. The 
 Spartans repulsed him ; but the Athenians and Ere- 
 trians sent a squadron of thirty-five ships to his help. 
 The arrival of the contingent so emboldened the 
 Asiatic Greeks that they attacked Sardis, the seat of 
 the Satrap or Governor of Western Asia Minor. The 
 city was captured, sacked, and burnt. After this 
 success everything went wrong. Finally at Lade in 
 496 B.C. the Greek fleet was entirely destroyed, and 
 the revolt was at an end. Miletus was destroyed, 
 
32 THE BATTLE-FIELD OP FREEDOM. 
 
 and its inhabitants were sold as slaves; the other 
 Greek cities were punished, but less severely. 
 
 It remained, however, for Darius to exact retribution 
 from the audacious strangers who had ventured to help 
 his rebellious subjects, and even to sack and burn 
 one of his capital cities. Every day so the story 
 runs as the King sat at the feast a slave repeated 
 to him three times, " Master, remember the Athenians !" 
 Four years were spent in preparation. Then in 492 
 the Satrap Mardonius led an expedition westward. 
 He marched with his army along the northern shore 
 of the iEgean, while his fleet accompanied him. But 
 the fleet met with a storm so furious that three hun- 
 dred galleys were wrecked, while the fierce Thracian 
 tribes furiously attacked the army. Mardonius repulsed 
 them, but suffered so much in the encounter that he 
 thought it wiser to return. Again Darius busied 
 himself with his preparations, and when two more 
 years had passed they were once more complete. He 
 could now punish his insolent enemies, and put them, 
 for the future, under a government which would 
 probably make them better behaved.* 
 
 Six hundred ships of war with a fleet of transports, 
 
 * In 510 the Athenians expelled the family of Pisistratus and 
 established the republican form of Government. The banished 
 tyrant, Hippias, applied for help to the Persian King and it was 
 one of the objects of the expedition against Greece to restore 
 him to power. 
 
THE BATTLE-FIELD OF FREEDOM 33 
 
 carrying more than a hundred thousand men, of whom 
 a considerable part were cavalry, assembled at Samos. 
 Few doubted, the Persian leaders certainly did not 
 doubt, that their task would be easily accomplished. 
 Greece was but an insignificant district, scarcely 
 equal to one of the one hundred and twenty-seven 
 provinces of the Persian Empire; and the prestige 
 of victory was with the invaders.* 
 
 The Persian generals there were twOy one of 
 them, Datis by name, a Mede by birth took a 
 direct course over the Mgesni. Naxos, which had 
 stood a siege ten years before, was surrendered without 
 a blow, though it could muster eight thousand heavy- 
 armed. The neighbouring islands were reduced by 
 the fleet. Eretria, one of the chief offenders in the 
 late war, fell. Separated from Mainland Greece by 
 only a narrow strait, it was captured after a brief siege, 
 some of its principal citizens betraying it to the foe. 
 From Eretria the Persians crossed to the bay of 
 Marathon, a spot on the Eastern coast of Attica, and 
 distant a little more than twenty miles from the city. 
 The bay, sheltered as it was on the north side by a 
 promontory, and skirted by a firm beach, was a 
 favourable place for landing, nor, as it seems, did 
 the Athenians make any attempt to hinder it. 
 
 * Herodotus goes so far as to say that it was at Marathon 
 that for the first time Greek soldiers dared * to face men eUd 
 ID the Median garb.* 
 
 8 
 
34 THE BATTLE-FIELD OP FREEDOM. 
 
 The whole force of the city was, however, ready 
 to do battle with the invaders. Help had been sought 
 from Sparta, the runner who bore the request, traversing 
 the distance, which was not less than one hundred 
 and forty miles, in forty-eight hours.* The Spartans 
 promised assistance, but could not give it at once. 
 It was their custom to set out on an expedition at 
 the full moon, and at no other time ; the moon then 
 wanted five days to being full, and there must 
 therefore be five days' delay. Accordingly the 
 Athenians were left alone to bear the brunt of the 
 Persian attack. 
 
 They were joined, however, on the eve of the 
 battle by a thousand heavy-armed soldiers from 
 Plataea. This was a little town, numbering, we 
 may calculate, some eight or ten thousand inhabi- 
 tants, which had seceded from the Boeotian confederacy, 
 and to which Athens had accorded her protection 
 some twenty years before.f Unasked, moved by a 
 gratitude which is not the less admirable because it 
 was in accord with her interests, the gallant little 
 
 * Not an impossible feat, though Sir George Cox doubts it, 
 and even suggests that the name of the runner, Pheidippides 
 (sparer of horses) indicates that hia remarkable speed was a 
 myth. 
 
 t This is the date which Mr. Grote prefers to that more 
 commonly accepted by chronologers, which would make the 
 occurrence nine years earlier in 519 B.C. rather than 510. 
 
THE BATTLE-FIELD OF FREEDOM. 85 
 
 state sent her whole force to stand by her ally in 
 this critical moment. 
 
 The military organization of Athens was but ill 
 suited to meet a sudden danger. The command of 
 the army was held in commission by ten generals, 
 one for each of the ten tribes of Attica. Its move- 
 ments were decided by a majority of votes, but the 
 details of tactics were under the direction of a single 
 general, all taking the office for a. single day, and 
 in regular rotation. An officer entitled the polemarch, 
 or " war-chief," the third in rank of the ten archons, 
 was an eleventh in the military council. 
 
 On this occasion the ten were equally divided in 
 opinion. Five were for postponing an engagement. 
 It would be better, they thought, to wait for help, 
 such, for instance, as the Spartans had promised, 
 from the other Greek cities. Five, headed by Milti- 
 ades, who was beyond doubt the most distinguished 
 Athenian of the time,* pleaded for immediate action. 
 
 To shut themselves up within their walls, and 
 there await the Persian attack, would, he argued, 
 be to invite the fate of Eretria. There traitors had 
 been found to open the gates to the enemy, and 
 
 * Miltiades had, as we have seen, incurred the enmity of the 
 Persian king and fled to Athens. Tried on the charge of having 
 been hostile to freedom, he had been acquitted by a popular 
 vote, and had shortly afterwards been elected to the office of 
 general. (See p. 30.) 
 
36 THE BATTLE-FIELD OF FREEDOM. 
 
 traitors would not be wanting in Athens. There 
 were many whose affections and interests inclined 
 them to the cause of the banished tyrants, and these 
 would certainly be active at such a time. Miltiades, 
 backed, it is said, by Themistocles and Aristides, 
 urged these views in the council of war, and pri- 
 vately on the polemarch, Callimachus by name, on 
 whose casting vote the decision depended. Happily 
 the polemarch was persuaded, and it was resolved 
 to fight at once. Miltiades's nine colleagues yielded 
 to him their right of command, and the unity of 
 purpose that is so essential to success was thus 
 secured. Whether the army was already encamped 
 on the rising ground that overlooks the plain, or 
 was still within the city walls when this discussion 
 took place, cannot be determined. That Miltiades 
 should have waited till his own proper day of command 
 came round, it is difficult to believe, though we are 
 told that he did so. 
 
 However this may be, it was on the 12th of 
 September 490 B.C., that the battle which was to 
 decide the fate of Greece, we may even say of the 
 world, was fought. Miltiades drew up his force, ten 
 thousand, or, if the Plataeans are to be added to that 
 number, eleven thousand in all. * 
 
 The ten tribes of the Athenian people had each 
 
 There were, however, some armed slavea. 
 
THE BATTLE-FIELD OF FREEDOM. 87 
 
 their separate place; that to which the polemarch 
 belonged occupying the place of honour on the right 
 wing, while the Platseans were on the extreme left. 
 The line was so extended as to be equal in length 
 to that of the far more numerous Persian host. It 
 was a bold piece of strategy, for it involved a dan- 
 gerous weakening of the centre, where, indeed, the 
 troops were but three deep, but it was a protection 
 against the danger, so formidable to all non-profes- 
 sional soldiers, of being outflanked. At the word of 
 command the little army moved forward, at first at 
 a moderate pace, afterwards, when the distance 
 between them and the enemy was something less 
 than a mile, at a run. 
 
 The effect of this movement, which, indeed, seemed 
 to the Persians the act of madmen, was astonishing. 
 It put an end to the confidence with which the 
 invaders anticipated the result of the conflict. The men 
 who dared so to charge a far superior foe must have, 
 they thought, a more than human strength or must 
 rely on more than human help. When the two lines 
 closed in conflict, the Athenian wings, on which 
 Miltiades had massed his troops to the utmost of his 
 resources, were speedily victorious. The Greeks 
 were superior in strength and equipment to their 
 adversaries, and here at least their formation was 
 not wanting in solidity. Things went less favourably 
 at the centre. Here always the post of honour in 
 
38 THE BATTLE-FIELD OF FREEDOM. 
 
 an Asiatic army the best troops, the native Persians 
 and the warlike Sacae, were posted. The Greek line, 
 perilously weak as it was, was broken, and the 
 troops composing it were forced back to the very edge 
 of the plain. Miltiades was not so occupied with his 
 own success as not to perceive this reverse, which, 
 indeed he must have anticipated. He recalled the 
 victorious wings from their pursuit of the flying 
 enemy, and wheeled them round against the Persian 
 centre, which they took in the rear. This, prob- 
 ably disordered by its own success, was speedily 
 broken, and the whole army fled to their ships. 
 Many were lost in the marsh which bordered the 
 plain on the north, but the rest made good their 
 escape. The Athenians, it is true, made a determined 
 effort to destroy the ships, but they failed, and, 
 indeed, suffered no small loss in the attempt. Several 
 of their bravest warriors fell at this spot, Callimachus 
 the polemarch, Ctesilaus, one of the ten generals, 
 and a brother of the poet jEschylus, himself also 
 among the combatants. Only seven ships were burnt. 
 The total loss of the Persians was six thousand four 
 hundred ; that of the Athenians and their Plataean allies 
 was one hundred and ninety-two. These were buried 
 on the field ; a mound was raised over them, and ten 
 pillars one for each tribe preserved for posterity the 
 names of those who had fallen. Ever after the * Men 
 of Marathon ' were regarded as the foremost heroes 
 
THE BATTLE-FIELD OF FREEDOM. 89 
 
 of Athenian history. Any satire or censure directed 
 against the degeneracy of later times was always 
 pointed by a contrast with the warriors who had 
 fought and conquered in this famous battle. 
 
 The victorious troops had, however, something yet 
 to do. The Persian fleet, instead of putting out to 
 sea, sailed towards Athens. The partisans of the 
 tyrants had exhibited a signal which indicated that 
 they were prepared to betray the city. But the 
 signal, the flashing of a shield, probably from the 
 height of Pentelicus, had been caught by the eye of 
 Miltiades, and he conjectured its import. Instantly 
 he gave the signal to march; the army made its 
 way with all speed to the city, which they reached 
 before the fleet, which had to traverse the long 
 coast line from the bay of Marathon to Athens, * 
 could arrive. Overawed by this sudden movement, 
 the traitors did not venture to act, and the Persians, 
 after lingering a few days, sailed homewards. 
 
 Two thousand Spartans arrived on the day after 
 the battle. They had started immediately on the 
 appearance of the full moon in the heavens, and 
 marching with all the speed that they could use had 
 reached the frontier of Attica on the third day. 
 This was a feat scarcely less astonishing than that 
 of the runner Pheidippides, as it implies a march of 
 
 This coast line could not have been less than sixty miles. 
 
40 TAB BATTLE-FIELD OF FREEDOM. 
 
 more than forty miles on three successive days. 
 All that they could do was to visit the field of 
 battle, where the corpses of the fallen Persians still 
 lay unburied. 
 
 It is a remarkable fact that no mention is made 
 of the Persian cavalry. Yet a force of cavalry cer- 
 tainly accompanied the expedition, and might have 
 been used, we cannot but think, with great effect. 
 Professor Curtius thinks that the Persians were pre- 
 paring to embark when Miltiades attacked them, 
 and that the cavalry were already on board. He 
 would thus account for the success with which the 
 embarkation seems to have taken place after the 
 battle. If everything had not beipn in readiness the 
 Persians must have suffered far more severely than 
 they actual] y^ did. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 TEE THREE HUNDRED,^ 
 
 MY next chapter will tell the story of how Greece- 
 was finally saved from the Persians : this will be 
 devoted to a narrative of the first attempt to stop the 
 advance of the invader, an attempt that was not less 
 noble because it was unsuccessful. The isolated Greek 
 communities, always jealous of each other, and often 
 hostile, had been coerced into something like uiiion 
 by the danger that threatened them. A congress met 
 at the Istlimus, and it was determined to make a 
 stand at the northern boundary of Greece. This was 
 the range of Olympus, dividing Thessaly from Southern 
 Macedonia, and penetrable, through part of the year, 
 only by the pass of Tempo, f The Thessalians 
 strongly urged the taking up of this position. They 
 promised to assist in the defence of it with their 
 whole available force, declaring, that if it was not 
 
 See note on p. 57. 
 
 t A plural word meaning literally 'the valleys*. 
 
42 THE THREE HUNDRED. 
 
 done, they would be compelled to provide for theii 
 own safety by submitting to the Persian King. A 
 force of ten thousand heavy-armed was^ accordingly 
 sent northward, and for a short time actually occupied 
 the pass. But their stay was brief. They discovered 
 that the position was untenable. There was another 
 pass some little distance to the westward, impracti- 
 cable indeed, owing to its altitude, in winter, but at 
 that time it was early summer perfectly available. 
 The Greek force retreated southward, leaving the 
 greater part of Northern Greece at the mercy of the 
 invader. The position which it was now resolved to 
 take up was the Pass of Thermopylae, the " Hot 
 Gates, " so called from the hot springs which rise in 
 the neighbourhood. The " Gates " were not a pass in 
 the ordinary sense of the term, Le, a narrow defile 
 between two closely-approaching mountains. There 
 was a mountain on one side, and an impassable marsh 
 on the other, reaching to the sea.* This was the 
 case at both the western or outer and the eastern 
 or inner " Gates, " the road at both being so narrow 
 that only a single vehicle could travel on it. The 
 intervening space, about a mile in length, was much 
 wider. It was here that the springs rose from the ground. 
 Thermopylae ofifered to the defending force an 
 advantage which Tempe did not possess. In its near 
 
 * The coast line is now so changed that the locality cannot 
 be recognized. 
 
THE THREE HUNDRED. 43 
 
 neighbourhood the strait, dividing the island of Euboea 
 from the mainland, was so narrow that it could be 
 easily blocked. It was hoped, therefore, that the 
 adv^ance of the invader could be simultaneously stopped 
 by both sea and land. The fleet accordingly took up 
 its position at a spot called Artemisium.* It num- 
 bered two hundred and eighty ships, under the command 
 of the Spartan Eurybiades, the Athenians, with 
 patriotic self-denial, forbearing to press a claim to 
 which their superior skill and the magnitude of their 
 contingent, a hundred in all, would have given great 
 weight. At the same time Leonidas, one of the 
 Spartan kings, occupied Thermopylas with a force 
 which numbered about four thousand heavy-armed. 
 How many other troops were present we do not know. 
 The three hundred Spartans were doubtless attended 
 by armed Helots, But it is difficult to suppose that 
 many more than four thousand could have found 
 camping-room in the limited space within the " Gates. " 
 The movements of Xerxes do not belong to my 
 story. It will suffice to say that, arrived at the 
 outer end of the pass, he waited four days before 
 ordering an attack, in expectation, Herodotus tells 
 us, that the defenders would fly. A horseman whom 
 he sent to reconnoitre, brought back as his report 
 that he had seen the Spartans engaged, some in 
 
 * From a temple of Artemis (Diana) which crowned one of the 
 neighbouring headlands. 
 
44 THE THREE HUNDRED. 
 
 martial exercises, some in carefully combing their hair. 
 The King asked an explanation from one Demaratus, 
 himself an exiled king of Sparta, who was accom- 
 panying the expedition. Demaratus repeated what 
 he had often said before, that Xerxes could not expect 
 to make his way without a desperate* struggle. 
 " These men, * he went on, * are preparing to fight 
 for the pass ; they have a custom of carefully combing 
 their hair when they know that they will have to 
 fight to the death." He did not convince the King, 
 who waited for a submission that never came. On 
 the fifth day he sent a force of Modes and Persians 
 with orders to bring these presumptuous men into 
 his presence. They attacked the position it was 
 by this time fortified by a wall built across the 
 pass but failed utterly. From morning to evening 
 they renewed the assault, fresh troops continually 
 coming up, but only to meet with the same disas- 
 trous repulse. The following day the Persian Guard, 
 known as the Immortals, took up the fighting, but 
 to no better purpose. They suffered even more 
 heavily, for a feigned retreat on the part of the 
 Greeks drew them on to a spot where a frightful 
 slaughter was inflicted on them. Thrice did Xerxes 
 leap up from his seat as he watched the conflict, in 
 fear for his army. A third day's fighting ended in 
 the same way. 
 
 At this point an act of infamous treachery helpod 
 
THE THREE HUNDRED. 45 
 
 the King out of his perplexity. A Melian, by name 
 Ephialtes, came to him and offered to show him how 
 he might outflank the defenders of the pass. There 
 was a path over the hills which brought out the 
 traveller beyond the inner " Gate. " Leonidas knew 
 of this path before he had taken up his position at 
 Thermopylae. The Phocians, however, had undertaken 
 to guard it, and he felt secure. But the Phocians 
 failed him. Apparently they neglected to place any 
 outposts. Anyhow the Persians were close upon them 
 before they knew of their approach. It was only by 
 the crackling of the dead leaves under foot, as the 
 invaders made their way through the oak forest that 
 clothed the mountain side, that they became aware 
 of their danger. They hastily armed themselves. 
 The Persians, surprised to see an armed force where 
 they expected no opposition, halted. * Who are these ? " 
 said Hydarnes, the Persian leader, to the traitor who 
 was guiding them. He was afraid, Herodotus tells 
 us, that they were Spartans. He had found out what 
 manner of men these were two days before, for it 
 was he who led the Immortals. * They are Phocians, " 
 replied Ephialtes. At once Hydarnes ordered an attack. 
 The difference between Spartans and Phocians was 
 soon evident. A shower of arrows sufficed to send the 
 guardians of the path in headlong flight. 
 
 The Greeks at Thermopylae were by this time 
 informed of the fate that was approaching. The seer 
 
46 THE THREE HUNDRED. 
 
 Megistias had seen in the sacrifices the signs of impending 
 death ; and soon more certain information was brought 
 by deserters from the Persian army; finally the 
 scouts came hurrying into the camp, with the news 
 that the enemy were in sight. Leonidas acted at 
 once. His allies he sent away; they were willing, 
 probably anxious, to save themselves; and he would 
 not hinder them. But he and his Spartans elected 
 to stay. Honour forbade them to fly from an enemy ; 
 as for Leonidas, he had the still stronger motive, 
 that his death, if the oracles spake truly, would save 
 Sparta. The city must perish, or one of its kings; 
 and he gladly chose the alternative so glorious to 
 himself. The seer, though not a Spartan by birth, 
 refused to depart; but he sent away his only son. 
 The Thespian contingent, seven hundred strong, also 
 elected to stay. Four hundred Thebans were kept, 
 it was said, against their will. 
 
 Up to this time the defending force had fought, 
 for the most part, behind a wall which had been 
 built across the western end of the pass many years 
 before by the Phocians. They had found it in ruins, 
 and had repaired and heightened it. Now that they 
 had resolved to die, the Spartans were bent on selling 
 their lives as dearly as they could, and advancing 
 beyond the wall, assumed the offensive. The Per- 
 sians gave way before them; urged on though they 
 were by the scourge, they could not resist the furious 
 
THE THREE HUNDRED. 47 
 
 valour of the Greeks; many were slain, many thrust 
 into the sea, many trampled down by their own 
 countrymen. One writer declares that the Spartans 
 actually penetrated to within a short distance of 
 Xerxes. Still, to a conflict fought at such tremen- 
 dous odds, there could be but one issue. Early in the 
 day Leonidas fell. There was a fierce struggle for 
 his body; four times the Spartans were borne back by 
 overpowering numbers, four times they rallied, suc- 
 ceeding at last in carrying off the body of the king. 
 As the day passed, their spears and swords were 
 shivered by incessant use, and they were driven to 
 use their hands and even their teeth. At last, almost 
 unarmed, they withdrew to a hillock which stood at 
 the eastern end of the pass. Here tliey were sur- 
 rounded by the Persians, and overwhelmed with 
 showers of stones and arrows. Not a man survived; * 
 but the Thebans pleaded the treacherous submission 
 of their state, and though personally of the patriotic 
 party their plea was allowed, and their lives were 
 spared. But they suffered the ignominy of being 
 
 * Tradition preserved the names of some who made themselves 
 conspicuous for valour among that band of heroes. One of them, 
 Dieneces by name, was as witty as he was brave. 'The bar- 
 barians are so many, " said a native of the district, who had 
 seen the Persian host, " that when they shoot their arrows, the 
 very sun will be darkened." "Good," said the Spartan, "then 
 we shall fight in the shade." Two of the Three Hundred had 
 
48 THE THREE HUNDRED. 
 
 branded, as cattle are branded, with the king's mark. 
 The slain were buried where they fell, the Spartans 
 lying by themselves. A pillar surmounted the mound 
 which covered their remains, bearing this incsription : 
 
 *Go, tell at Sparta, thou that passest by, 
 That here obedient to her laws we lie.* 
 
 Another monument commemorated in general terms 
 the valour of the whole force which had attempted 
 to stay the Persian advance. 
 
 * Four thousand warriors from the Apian land 
 Did thrice a hundred myriads here withstand.* 
 
 Both these epigrams were the work of the famous 
 Simonides of Ceos. It was he also who paid this 
 tribute to the memory of his friend the seer who 
 scorned to leave his Spartan patrons: 
 
 Beneath thy feet the wise Megistias lies, 
 Skilled to discern the warnings of the skies; 
 
 been sent away from the camp, and lay, suffering from ophthal- 
 mia, at the neighbouring village. They could not agree as to 
 what their tradition of military honour bade tliein do. One 
 ordered his attendant to lead him to the field of battle, where 
 he fought and fell with the rest. The other returned home, to 
 meet the scorn of his countrymen. He wiped away his dis- 
 grace by conspicuous valour at the battle of PlatsBa. 
 * The Peloponnesus. 
 
THE THREE HUNDRED. 49 
 
 From swift Spercheius came the Mede, and slew 
 The blameless prophet. Well his fate he knew; 
 Yet scorned to fly, choosing to share the doom 
 Of his. dear Spartan friends. Behold his tomb!* 
 
 Above Leonidas the * lion king ' the piety of his 
 countrymen erected a tomb, which bore the appro- 
 priate semblance of the king of beasts. For this also 
 Simonides composed an inscription. It runs: 
 
 'Bravest of beasts am I; of men most brave 
 Who lies below, and now I watch his grave. 
 Lion he was alike in name and heart, 
 VHbM had I ne'er endured this watcher's part.* 
 
CHAPTER Vi 
 
 THE WOODEN WALLS, 
 
 NOTHING strikes us more painfully as we read the 
 history of Greece than the incessant feuds which 
 were carried on by neighbouring cities, worshipping 
 the same gods, speaking substantially the same tongue, 
 and so closely akin in race that their strife was 
 little less monstrous than civil war. It sounds, there- 
 fore, something like a paradox when a Greek histo- 
 rian, writing of one of these miserable conflicts, 
 declares, " this war was the saving of Greece." For 
 all that the statement is strictly true. 
 
 Athens and iEgina, separated from each other by 
 some fifteen miles of sea, had been at feud almost 
 from time immemorial. Comn ercial jealousy, and 
 the petty causes of offence which are sure to occur 
 between neighbours, are sufficient to account for this 
 enmity, but legend had preserved or invented some 
 special way of explaining it. * 
 
 * Herodotus's story runs in something of this fashion. The 
 people of Epidaurus, a town on the north eastern coast of the 
 
ATHENA PARTHENOS. 
 The VarvakeioQ Statuette. 
 
THE WOODEN WALLS. 51 
 
 It is needless to follow the course of the war. 
 It will suffice to say that Athens, though prohably 
 the stronger state, had not been able to gain any 
 substantial advantage over its adversary. It was 
 the genius of Themistocles, who seems to have had 
 a singular capacity for discerning the real bearing 
 of events, and to have foreseen the future with an 
 almost prophetic instinct, that suggested the means 
 by which the war was to be brought to a successful 
 end, and at the same time to become, as the histo- 
 rian remarks, the salvation of Greece. 
 
 To put the matter briefly, Themistocles persuaded 
 his countrymen to bend all their energies to the 
 
 Peloponnesus, had suffered from several years of famine, and had 
 consulted the Delphian oracle. Apollo bade them set up images 
 of Mother Earth and the Goddess of Increase. * Shall the imagei 
 be of bronze or of stone?" asked the suppliants. "Of neither," 
 replied the god, * but of the garden olive." The olive was found 
 only, or in its finest growth, in Athens, and to Athens acoord- 
 ingly the Epidaurians made application for olive wood. It was 
 granted on the condition that yearly offerings should be made 
 to the Goddess Athene and the local hero Erectheus. The images 
 were made, and the tribute duly rendered for many years. 
 After a while, however, JEgina, which was a colony of Epi- 
 daurus, revolted against its mother city, and in the course of 
 the war that followed, carried off the images of olive wood. 
 The Epidaurians thenceforward ceased to pay their offerings, 
 and referred the Athenians, when they complained, to the 
 people of .Egina. They, professing to know nothing of the 
 transaction, refused satisfaction. 
 
52 THE WOODEN WALLS. 
 
 work of making Athens a great naval power. It 
 is not difficult to believe that he looked beyond the 
 immediate occasion. An enemy far more formidable 
 than ^gina threatened his native country. Persia, 
 he knew, was bound to avenge the insults which it 
 had received, and to retrieve its defeats. It was 
 making gigantic preparations for this object, and the 
 only hope of safety for Athens was to obtain com- 
 mand of the sea. This secured, the Athenian people 
 might survive, even though their city, which was 
 then, it will be remembered, unprotected by walls, 
 might fall into the hands of the invader. Fortunately 
 the means for constructing a powerful fleet were 
 ready to his hand. The city possessed in the silver 
 mines of Laurium * a source of revenue which might be 
 easily employed for this purpose. The proceeds of the 
 mines had been frittered away in yearly doles to 
 the citizens. Themistocles persuaded his countrymen 
 to devote the whole, a sum amounting to about 
 ^12,000 1 to the building of a fleet. The immediate 
 
 The ore taken from the earth in these mines seems to have 
 been singularly rich. Within the last few years silver has been 
 profitably extracted from the refuse of the old workings. 
 
 t This must, of course, be multiplied many times to arrive 
 at its equivalent in spending power, as stated in our own cur- 
 rency. The figure itself is thus reached: Thirty thousand 
 citizens received a yearly dole of ten drachmas, a drachma 
 being equal in value to 9|d of our money, by weight of silver. 
 
THE WOODEN WALLS. 53 
 
 result was a speedy victory over MginsL ; the remoter 
 gain was the salvation of Greece. 
 
 Circumstances had combined to give a long respite 
 to the Greeks. Nearly ten years had passed since the 
 day of Marathon, and the storm of Persian vengeance 
 had not yet broken. Darius had been called away 
 when his preparations were almost complete, by the 
 revolt of Egypt; and his death had followed, at a 
 very short interval, the reduction of Egypt. But 
 his son and successor had no idea of abandoning the 
 scheme. Indeed, he was collecting from every part 
 of his vast Empire a force so vast that the mere 
 report of it would suffice, he thought, to banish all 
 idea of resistance. This enormous host, gathered 
 from evei-y tribe between the Indus and the Bospho- 
 rus, was already on its march westward. In the 
 Greek cities there was no unity of purpose. Some 
 openly declared their intention to submit to the bar- 
 barians; others, with a selfishness only equalled by 
 their folly, dreamt of saving their strength for the 
 defence of their own walls. It was only a minority 
 that had any idea of a combined resistance of the 
 common foe, and even in these there was a feeling 
 of terror which approached almost to despair. 
 
 The Athenians, feeling that they would be the 
 first objects of attack, asked the Delphian oracle 
 what they should do. Apollo's answer was by no 
 means encouraging. The envoys had scarcely taken 
 
54 THE WOODEN WALLS. 
 
 their seats within the precinct when the priestess 
 broke forth into a strain of awful warning. 
 
 ' Unhappj men why do je tarry? Fly, fly to the borders of 
 
 earth. 
 From where round your towering stronghold lies wheel- 
 like the town of your birth! 
 For the head and the body are sick, and the feet are 
 
 all weary and spent, 
 And their cunning is gone from the hands, and the loins 
 
 are all feeble and bent. 
 They are perished already, so fiercely the flame runneth 
 
 on to destroy, 
 Whfle, driving his Syrian chariot, the terrible Master, whose 
 
 joy 
 It in battle and death, cometh nearer. Nor think these 
 
 will suffer alone; 
 Full many a wall shall be levelled; not a stone shall be 
 
 left on a stone! 
 And the flame that devours shall encircle full many a 
 
 high-pillared fane; 
 Alas! for their dwellers immortal, who tremble and sweat 
 
 in the pain 
 Of the mastering dread that is on them, for even to-day 
 
 do they see 
 The blood dripping down from the roof-tops, dread token 
 
 of doom that shall be; 
 Qt and harden thy heart to the trouble that comes, is 
 
 my counsel to thee!" 
 
 The terror inspired by these words in the hearts 
 of the envoys was indescribable. Then came a sug- 
 gestion of comfort. One of the most notable citizens 
 
THE WOODEN WALLS. 5S 
 
 of Delphi counselled them not to be content with 
 so hopeless an answer. Let them, he said, approach 
 the god again, not as enquirers, but as suppliants, 
 and see whether they could not wring from him some 
 more encouraging reply. 
 
 It was commonly said that the Delphian god 
 medized," i,e, took the Persian side in the great 
 struggle of Greece for freedom. And it is beyond 
 doubt that the council of priests which dictated the 
 answers of the oracle shared the common belief that 
 the Persian arms were irresistible. Their great 
 object was to secure the reputation of their god as 
 a predicter of the truth, and they put into his mouth 
 .a forecast that seemed to them almost certainly 
 true. At the same time they were not inaccessible 
 to other influences, and these, we may be sure, 
 Themistocles did not fail to use. So far the oracle 
 had said exactly what he wished. Men reduced to 
 despair, as they had been, would listen eagerly to 
 any suggestion of hope, and this was now given 
 them, and exactly in the direction in which the great 
 statesman had been working for years. 
 
 Bearing the tokens of supplication * in their hands 
 the envoys entered the shrine again : * Lord Apollo, " 
 they said, *have regard to these tokens, and give 
 us some better answer about our fatherland; verily 
 we will not depart otherwise from thy temple, but 
 
 * Olive boughs wreathed round with white wooL 
 
56 THE WOODEN WALLS. 
 
 will stay here till we die." Thereupon the priestess 
 delivered a second oracle. "Pallas," she said, "had 
 vainly endeavoured to sway the heart of Zeus and 
 save her city ; but she had wrung from him one thing. 
 
 When all things else shall perish that are found in 
 
 King Cecrops* land, 
 Then alone unhurt of the foeman the walls that are 
 
 wooden shall stand, 
 The safety of thee and thy children. But do not thou 
 
 think to abide 
 The host of the footmen and horsemen as it pours like 
 
 an incoming tide 
 O'er the land of thy birth, but depart; yet know that 
 
 there cometh a day, 
 When those from whom thou art flying thou shalt meet 
 
 in the battle array, 
 And Salamis, Island Divine, many children of women 
 
 shall slay." 
 
 Here certainly we can see the hand of Themistocles. 
 The whole scheme of his policy is wrapped up in 
 these words. The Athenians were to relinquish all 
 idea of resisting the Persian advance by land; they 
 were to abandon their city what an audacious 
 proposal, one thinks, for a statesman to make to his 
 countrymen! they were to trust to their ships, and 
 to make their stand on the very place which the 
 extraordinary genius of the man had discerned as 
 the most favourable place for it. 
 
 Something, indeed, still remained to be done. The 
 
THE WOODEN WALLS. 57 
 
 oracle had been obtained; it had now to be interpreted 
 in the sense which Themistocles desired. There were 
 some who maintained that the " wooden walls ' was 
 the ancient palisading that surrounded the Acropolis or 
 citadel of Athens, and thus it was in the Acropolis that 
 the last stand was to be made. When this opinion was 
 overruled, there remained what seemed a gloomy prog- 
 nostic how " Salamis should slay many sons of women. " 
 Might not this be a prophecy that Athens, risking 
 her all upon her ships, should suffer defeat? At this 
 point Themistocles himself intervened. " Not so, " he 
 suggested, " if the god had meant to prophesy disaster 
 he would not have spoken of Salamis as 'divine' 
 but 'wretched' or 'unhappy.'* The argument was 
 convincing; and the plan of action was determined 
 upon. The Athenians were to concentrate their whole 
 fighting force in their fleet ; they were to make their 
 stand behind their "wooden walls." 
 
 The earlier events which followed the arrival of 
 the Persian host may be very briefly summarized. 
 The first line of defence was forced. The army 
 that garrisoned the pass of Thermopylae was 
 compelled to retreat, leaving behind to a glorious 
 death the famous Three Hundred from Sparta, 
 and another Seven Hundred from the Boeotian 
 Thespiae, less famous but not less noble. * The 
 
 * The men of Thespiae have strangely missed the full credit 
 which belongs to them for their devotion, a devotion still more 
 
58 THE WOODEN WALLS. 
 
 fleet at Artemisiiim in Euboea, which had been intended 
 to arrest the southward advance of the Persian 
 ships, after winning two victories at consider- 
 able cost, had also fallen back. Themistocles, who 
 was in command of the Athenian contingent, which 
 numbered one hundred and eighty ships out of a total 
 of about three hundred and seventy, induced the Greeks 
 to make a halt at Salamis. It was a request which 
 could not be refused, for the Athenians had resolved 
 to abandon their city and absolutely wanted their 
 squadron for the removal of the non-combatants and 
 of so much of their property as it was possible to 
 save. But the difficulty was to keep the fleet there. 
 The contingents from the Peloponnesus and a Pelo- 
 ponnesian, the Spartan Eurybiades, was in supreme 
 command were selfishly bent on defending their own 
 country. A wall was being built across the Isthmus 
 with all possible speed ; this, it was hoped, would stop 
 the Persian advance by land ; how the hostile fleet was 
 to be dealt with they do not appear to have considered. 
 Themistocles, on the other hand, felt that their departure 
 would be the ruin of Greece. The fleet would inevit- 
 
 remarkable than that of their Spartan comrades. These latter 
 were bound bj the strongest tradition of military honour; the 
 Thespians were under no such obligation. Professor Rawlinson 
 thinks that they may have been nerved by the hope of Thespiae 
 becoming the head of the Boeotian confederacy. Thespiae may 
 have cherished such an ambition : but the self-sacrifice of the 
 
THE WOODEN WALLS. 59 
 
 ably break up, each squadron hurrying home to the 
 defence of its own coast. Accordingly, he spared no 
 efforts to prevent a step so disastrous. When other 
 arguments failed, he had to recourse to a threat. 
 Stay here,' he said to the Spartan admiral, "and 
 you will be playing the part of a brave man, and 
 will save Greece. But if you are determined to go, 
 then know what we shall do. We will put our families 
 on board, and go just as we are to Siris in Italy; 
 that place is ours, and it has been prophesied that 
 some day we shall colonize it. As for you, you will 
 find out before long what it means to have lost such 
 allies as we are.' 
 
 Eurybiades could not resist this argument. He 
 was perfectly aware that without the Athenians the 
 Greek fleet was helpless, and he gave the order to 
 remain. This was received with apparent obedience, 
 but the discontent among the Peloponnesian allies 
 was great. And when the danger drew nearer, when 
 the army of the Persians was known to be marching 
 towards the Isthmus, where the wall was scarcely 
 finished, their fear got beyond all control. Another 
 council of the admirals was held ; a fierce debate 
 followed, but it was evident to the Athenian commander 
 that the vote would be against him, and that 
 Salamis would be abandoned. 
 
 particular soldiers, who were perfectly well aware that they were 
 
 staying behind to meet a certain death, is not less remarkable. 
 
60 THE WOODEN WALLS. 
 
 The peril was imminent. The safety of Greece 
 and his own personal fortunes which for all his 
 patriotism he never forgot were at stake. Under 
 these circumstances he took a desperate resolution, 
 venturing on an act which only success, and scarcely 
 success itself, could justify. He sent to the Persian 
 king hy a trusted slave of his own, Sicinnus by 
 name, a message which was to have the effect of 
 compelling the Greeks to remain where they were. 
 It ran thus: "The Athenian commander sends you 
 this without the knowledge of his allies. He wishes 
 you well, and would gladly see you victorious rather 
 than his countrymen. Know, therefore, that they 
 are overpowered by fear and are meditating flight. 
 You can therefore now accomplish the best work that 
 you ever did, if you will hinder their escape." 
 
 Xerxes, apparently without any suspicion that this 
 advice was not sincere, acted on the suggestion, and, 
 moving the western wing of his fleet, cut off the 
 retreat of the Greeks. 
 
 Themistocles first heard of the success of his advice 
 from a political enemy. Aristides, the leader of the 
 aristocratic party at Athens, had been banished at 
 the instance of his great rival. But this was a time 
 when all such feuds are forgotten. Aristides came 
 to the Spartan admiral's ship, where the council was 
 being held, and standing outside called for Themis- 
 tocles, who at once came out to speak to him. ** It 
 
THE WOODEN WALLS. 61 
 
 matters not,* said the new-comer, * whether there be 
 much talk or little about the departure of the Pelopon- 
 nesians from this place. Depart they cannot, however 
 much they may wish it. The Persians enclose us on 
 every side. This I have seen with my own eyes. 
 Go and tell the news to the council." 
 
 "You bring good news," replied Themistocles 
 " But you must know that this is of my devising. 
 Our allies would not fight here of their own free 
 will, and it was necessary to make them do so, 
 whether they would or no. Do you now go in and 
 tell them. You they will believe, while they will 
 think that I am telling them a feigned tale." 
 
 Aristides accordingly entered the council. * I have 
 come," he said, * from JSgina, having with difficulty 
 escaped the blockading ships. You are entirely en- 
 closed by the enemy. Make ready therefore to fight." 
 
 Many of the captains still doubted, when a new 
 arrival put the matter beyond all question. A Tenian 
 ship Tenos was a little island in the JEgean which 
 had deserted from the Persians, came with full intel- 
 ligence.' The Greeks had to make a virtue of neces- 
 sity* and prepared for battle. 
 
 At dawn of day Themistocles the Athenian gift 
 of oratory was even then, it would seem, acknow- 
 ledgedaddressed the assembled men-at-arms from 
 the fleet. These were soldiers who served on board 
 the ships, fulfilling much the same functions as our 
 
62 THE WOODEN WALLS. 
 
 marines. Plutarch tells us that there were eigh- 
 teen in each ship, so that the total number would 
 amount to something less than seven thousand. 
 
 The speech finished, the men-at-arms embarked 
 again, and the fleet put out from land. The Persian 
 ships advanced to engage it, and with an aspect so 
 formidable, it would seem, that the Greeks began to 
 back water. They had almost touched the land, when 
 some captain, with more presence of mind than his 
 companions, set a bolder example. Who this was was 
 much debated in after days. Some gave the credit 
 to Ameinias an Athenian, and, according to Plutarch, 
 a brother of the poet iEschylus.* The iEginetans 
 claimed it for themselves. The ship that fetched those 
 supernatural allies, the heroes of the house of ^acus, 
 was the first, they said, to show a courage worthy 
 of this mission, f Among the other Greeks a legend 
 grew up that the figure of a woman was seen to 
 hover in the air, crying in a voice that was heard 
 from end to end of the fleet: "How long, ye foolish 
 ones, are ye going to back water? " 
 
 Another brother had behaved with the greatest gallantry 
 at the battle of Marathon. 
 
 t Some days before, when the resolution to fight had been 
 first taken, an i?^]ginetan ship had been sent to fetch the 
 images of the heroes of this house from their temples in iEgina. 
 Telamon and Ajax his son were already at Salamis; iGacus, the 
 progenitor of the house, with his sons Peleus and Phocus and 
 his grandson Achilles, were fetched from ^gina. 
 
THE WOODEN WALLS. 63 
 
 The details of the battle that history has preserved 
 are not particularly clear; but it is beyond doubt 
 that the Athenians contributed far more than their 
 allies to the victory. They were matched against the 
 most formidable part of the Persian fleet at least as far 
 as nautical skill was concerned the Phoenician ships, 
 and inflicted on them a heavy loss. Next to them, 
 (in the judgment of some, above them) ranked the 
 men of ^E^'ina. And, indeed, considering the small- 
 ness of the iGginetan squadron only thirty ships- 
 it did more conspicuous service. They were especi- 
 ally active in cutting off the ships that attempted to 
 escape from the battle. Probably they could boast 
 a greater number of captives than any of the allies. 
 Herodotus bears express testimony to the good 
 order of the two squadrons, old enemies, it will be 
 remembered, who had gained their knowledge through 
 many bitter years of mutual loss, and now turned 
 it against the common foe. These, we learn from 
 the same source, did not yield without a struggle. 
 "The Persians," he says, "surpassed themselves." 
 They were fighting under the eye of the King him- 
 self, whose throne had been set up on a hill on the 
 mainland, that immediately overlooked the scene of 
 action, and whose scribes noted down for reward, or 
 punishment the names of the captains who seemed 
 to be doing conspicuously well or ill. None in the 
 Persian fleet did better than the Greeks from tlie 
 
64 THE WOODEN WALLS. 
 
 maritime cities of A.sia Minor and the islands that 
 had submitted to the king. They were opposed to 
 the Peloponnesian contingent and did them much 
 damage. A ship from Samothrace is specially men- 
 tioned for the success with which it was managed. It 
 had sunk an Athenian vessel, and was in its turn 
 attacked and crippled by an iEginetan. But its crew, 
 who happened to be particularly expert in the use 
 of the javelin, cleared the deck of the assailant, and 
 then boarded and captured it. Xerxes was particu- 
 larly struck with this deed, and conceived from it a 
 very high opinion of the skill, the valour, and the 
 fidelity of his Greek subjects. A less creditable ex- 
 ploit performed by Artemisia, Queen of Halicarnassus, 
 a Greek city which had fallen under Carian sway, 
 also attracted his favourable notice. She was being 
 closely pursued by an Athenian trireme. Not seeing 
 any hope of escape, she ordered her ship to be 
 steered against another Carian vessel, fighting like 
 herself on the Persian side. This she sent to the 
 bottom with all on board. The Athenian pursuer, 
 making sure that he had been chasing either one of 
 his own side, or a deserter from the Persians, aban- 
 doned the pursuit, and the Queen was able to get 
 clear away from the battle. Xerxes saw what was 
 done, and enquired the name of the successful com- 
 batant. His attendants were sure that the victorious 
 ship was Artemisia's, for they recognized her ensign. 
 
THE WOODEN WJLLL8. 65 
 
 but it occurred to none to doubt that her antagonist 
 was a Greek. * My men bear themselves like 
 women, my women like men/ was the king's 
 comment. 
 
 Whatever successes may have been won by indi- 
 vidual ships in the Persian fleet, the result on the 
 whole was a disastrous defeat. As a fleet it had 
 almost ceased to exist. The loss in ships and men 
 was enormous, all the greater because very few of 
 the crews were able to swim. The victory was com- 
 pleted by the destruction of the force which had 
 been landed on the little island of Psittaleia, lying 
 between Salamis and the coast of Athens. It had 
 been intended that these troops should help any of 
 their own men and kill any of the Greeks who might 
 drift thither in disabled ships. Aristides landed some 
 heavy-armed Athenian troops on the island, and 
 slew its occupants to a man. None of the disasters 
 of the day affected Xerxes more profoundly. Many 
 Persian nobles, among them three nephews of his 
 own, perished at that fatal spot. 
 
 Athens had saved herself and Greece by hei 
 '^wooden walla,* 
 
CHAPTER VIL 
 
 BOW AGAINST SPEAB. 
 
 THE disastrous defeat in the Bay of Salamis did not 
 put an end to the Persian hopes of success. The 
 king indeed was bent on returning home. With this 
 wish the advice of his most influential counsellors 
 coincided. Queen Artemisia, anxious herself to be 
 relieved from further service, urged him to depart, 
 and she was supported by Mardonius, the King's 
 uncle. This man had always been the most vehement 
 advocate of the war; he felt himself responsible for 
 its disasters; his only chance of safety for himself 
 was to remain behind and make another effort to 
 conquer Greece. Xerxes was to fly and so preserve 
 his invaluable life for the country; he, Mardonius, 
 would accomplish the end for which the forces of the 
 empire had been gathered. 
 
 Three hundred thousand men, the picked troops of 
 the army, Persians, Medes, Sacae, Bactrians, and 
 Indians, were left with Mardonius. They passed the 
 
BOW AGAINST SPEAB. 67 
 
 winter in the friendly country of Thessaly. Before 
 he moved his troops in the spring, the Persian general 
 consulted the oracles of Northern Greece. What 
 answers he received is not known. And he attempted 
 to win over the power which had hitherto thwarted 
 his master's purposes. A friendly prince, Alexander, 
 king of Macedonia, was sent to offer terms to Athens. 
 The proposal was met with a dignified refusal. * So 
 long as the sun shall move in his accustomed way, 
 so long will we stand against Xerxes," was the reply 
 of the Athenian statesmen. The messenger was 
 warned not to come again on the same errand. 
 " Tempt us not to unfriendly acts ; thou art a friend 
 and guest; we would not willingly harm thee.* 
 
 Sparta, aware of what Mardonius was doing, sent 
 envoys to urge their allies to be steadfast in the 
 cause of Greece. The reply was, that they need not 
 fear; so long as there was an Athenian alive, no 
 truce would be made with Xerxes. At the same 
 time an earnest request was made that an army 
 from the Peloponnesus should march in the early spring 
 into Boeotia, and save Athens from a second de- 
 struction. Whether this help was promised, we are 
 not told; it was certainly not given. With charac- 
 teristic selfishness, the Peloponnesians, once assured 
 that Athens would remain faithful, thought of nothing 
 but their own safety, and laboured to complete the 
 tortifications of the Isthmug. 
 
68 BOW AGAINST SPEAR. 
 
 It was lafce in the spring May or, possibly, June 
 before Mardonius left his quarters in Thessaly, and 
 marched into Boeotia. The Athenians again left their 
 city, and the Persian general fixed his head- quarters 
 in the Acropolis. He made a fresh attempt to win 
 over these obstinate foes. The envoy met with a 
 firm refusal. He was allowed to depart unhurt, but 
 a senator, who ventured to suggest a consideration 
 of the proposal, was stoned to death by his col- 
 leagues and the people, his wife and children meeting 
 with the same fate at the hands of the Athenian 
 women. 
 
 Another urgent demand for help was now addressed 
 to Sparta. The Ephors * continued to procrastinate, 
 even in the face of the threat that Athens, if per- 
 sistently deserted, must make terms for itself. For 
 ten days an answer was postponed. On the eleventh 
 the envoys presented a peremptory ultimatum, * Help 
 us, or we secure our own safety." The Ephors 
 replied, *An army is already on its march, and is 
 even now beyond our borders. * This statement they 
 confirmed with an oath. And, indeed, their fears had 
 at last been roused. An influential citizen of the 
 Arcadian town of Tegea had warned them that the 
 Isthmian wall would be useless if Athens was to put 
 her fleet at the service of the invader. Then a 
 
 The actual rulers of Sparta : the kings were little more than 
 commanders-in-chief. 
 
BOW AGAINST SPEAR. 69 
 
 sudden resolution was taken, and an effort not 
 unworthy of the occasion was made, and made with 
 astonishing speed. Sparta, always like a camp, wai 
 now, it is probable, prepared for instant action. An 
 army of five thousand Spartans, each attended by 
 seven armed Helots, and an equal number of Perioeci,* 
 each with one Helot, were actually on their march 
 northward while the Ephors were speaking. 
 
 The Argives, always jealous rivals of Sparta, had 
 promised Mardonius to arrest the march of their 
 neighbours whenever it should take place. But this 
 imposing force overawed them and, indeed, never before 
 or after was such an army brought together by the 
 state. All that the Argives could do was to despatch 
 their swiftest runner to the Persian general with tidings 
 of what had happened. Mardonius evacuated Athens, 
 not forgetting to complete the work of destruction 
 before he departed, marched through the passes of 
 Mount Parnes, and took up his position on the left 
 bank of the river Asopus. On the other side of the 
 stream he constructed a fortified camp of more than 
 a square mile in extent. Behind this again he had 
 a place of refuge in the strongly-fortified city of 
 Thebes. To all appearance the chances of war were 
 strongly in his favour. His army numbered more 
 than three hundred thousand men, various contingents 
 
 The Perioeci were of the subject race, but free, and wert 
 eommonly engaged in agriculture. 
 
70 BOW AGAINST SPEAB. 
 
 from Macedonia and northern tribes having joined it 
 in the course of the winter. Still the general feeling 
 was anything but sanguine. 
 
 Herodotus illustrates this by a curious story which 
 he heard, he declares, from an eye-witness, Menan- 
 der of Orchomenus. It runs thus : The chief magis- 
 trate of Thebes invited to a great banquet fifty of 
 the principal citizens together with fifty officers of 
 the army, so disposing his guests that each couch 
 accommodated a Persian and a Greek. * My neigh- 
 bour," said Menander, " said to me, * Since you have 
 eaten at the same table and drunk of the same cup, 
 hear the thing of which I am persuaded in my own 
 mind ; so you may best save yourself. See you these 
 Persians that feast here, and the army which we 
 left by the river? Out of them all in but a few 
 days there shall survive but a very few ! ' This he 
 spake with tears. Then I : ' Why tell you it not to 
 Mardonius?' He replied: 'What God hath decreed 
 none can avert. As for what I have said, no man 
 will believe it. Verily of all things the most hateful 
 is to know, and therewithal to have no power of 
 doing aught ! * * 
 
 Meanwhile the Greek army was gathering its 
 strength. The force from Laconia numbered fifty 
 thousand (ton thousand heavy-armed, and forty thou- 
 sand light-armed). From the rest of the Peloponnese 
 came about fourteen thousand, the most numerous 
 
BOW AGAINST SPEAB. 71 
 
 contingeDt being the Corinthian, in which there were 
 five thousand heavy-armed ; Megara sent three thousand, 
 and the Athenian heavy-armed numbered eight thousand. 
 The total force was nearly one hundred and ten thou- 
 sand,* and it was under the command of the Spartan 
 Pausanias. Crossing the ridge of the Cithaeron, the 
 Greeks came in view of the Persians, who were drawn 
 up on the plain below. So formidable an appearance did 
 the enemy present that Pausanias kept his army on the 
 higher ground. Mardonius immediately assumed the 
 offensive, sending his cavalry under Masistius to 
 harass their movements. In cavalry the Greek army 
 was absolutely deficient, nor could their archers 
 contend on equal terms with the Persian bowmen. 
 The Megarian contingent was particularly hard 
 pressed, nor would any of the Greeks volunteer to 
 go to their help. At last three hundred Athenians 
 came forward and took up the task. The skirmish 
 was decided by the fate of the Persian leader, 
 Masistius. As he was charging at the head of his 
 troop, his horse was struck by an arrow, reared, 
 
 * The Spartan numbers were so great as to show that every 
 available man was sent into the field. Sparta and Messenia 
 together contained an area of two thousand seven hundi ed and 
 seventy-one square miles (I take the modern divisions as gene- 
 rally corresponding to the ancient) and the population must have 
 fallen short of the half million, which is the number proportionate 
 to fifty thousand able-bodied soldiers. The modem population 
 is under three hundred thousand. 
 
72 BOW AGAINST SPEAB. 
 
 and threw him to the ground. Before he could rise 
 the Athenians had rushed forward and seized him. 
 Even then it was not easy to kill him, so impene- 
 trable was his armour. At last an Athenian spear 
 was driven into one of his eyes. A fierce struggle 
 for his body followed it. The Persians recovered it 
 for a time; then they lost it again. Finally it 
 remained in Greek hands. There it was an object 
 of the most lively curiosity, so splendid was the 
 armour in which it was clad, so handsome the face, 
 and so magnificent the proportions of the dead man. 
 In the Persian camp the loss of so renowned a 
 leader caused the deepest grief. * The wailing for 
 the dead could be heard," says the historian, 
 throughout the land of Boeotia." 
 
 This success encouraged Pausanias to leave the 
 high ground, and to take up his position on the 
 plain. The line was arranged according to the tra- 
 ditional order of precedence. The most honourable 
 post, the right wing, was assigned, as a matter of 
 course, to the Spartans; for the second in dignity, 
 the left, there was a contest between Athens and 
 Tegea. The Spartans, acting as arbiters, adjudged 
 it to Athens. The remainder of the Greek forces 
 occupied the centre, the Tegeans being next to the 
 Spartans, and the Corinthians next again to them. 
 
 The new Greek position was by no means conve- 
 nient. The whole army had to draw its supplies of 
 
BOW AGAINST SPEAB. 73 
 
 water from a single spring near the right wing, for 
 the Persian slingers and archers hindered access to 
 the river Asopus. At the same time the Persian 
 cavahy cut off the convoys that brought supplies from 
 the Peloponnesus, while the sooth-sayers declared that 
 the omens were unfavourable to a forward movement. 
 What would have been the result if Mardonius 
 had followed the policy of delay, urged upon him 
 by his Theban allies, while he continued to use his 
 superiority in cavalry to annoy his adversaries, it is 
 impossible to say. Happily his impatience was too 
 strong for him, and he determined to attack. 
 Alexander of Macedon, anxious to secure friends on 
 both sides, warned the Greeks of what was to happen, 
 and Pausanias, in view of it, proposed to the Athen- 
 ians that they should change places with the 
 Spartan troops. As the two armies were now arranged, 
 the Spartans faced the Persians, the Athenians 
 the Greek allies of Xerxes. This Pausanias proposed 
 to change. * We, * he said to the Athenians, " have 
 never had to do with the Persian troops, whereas 
 you conquered them at Marathon. Do you therefore 
 take our place, and we will deal with the hostile 
 Greeks, adversaries to whom we are accustomed.* 
 The proposal was accepted, and the movement was 
 begun. It did not, however, escape the notice of 
 Mardonius, and as he made a corresponding change 
 in his own line, the old order was resumed. 
 
74 BOW AGAINST 8PEAB. 
 
 Meanwhile the second position became untenable. 
 The Persian skirmishers made even the single spring 
 on which the army depended impossible of access, 
 and it became necessary to move. It was resolved 
 to take up a third position on a so-called * island " 
 made by two branches of the Oeroe, a small stream 
 that ran westward into the Corinthian Gulf. Diffi- 
 culties and disagreements that might easily have 
 ended in disaster arose when the time came for 
 executing this movement. The Greeks of the centre, 
 distressed and alarmed by the incessant attacks of 
 the Persian cavalry, which had become bolder since 
 the manoeuvre attempted by the Spartans, disobeyed 
 orders, and marched, not to the island, but to the 
 town of Platsea, where they found a safer position. 
 Disobedience of another kind hampered the Spartans ; 
 the leader of one of the divisions flatly refused to 
 move. * You are flying from the enemy," he said, 
 * and this is a thing that the true Spartan can never 
 do." Threats and persuasions were lost upon him; 
 go he would not, not even if he and his division 
 were left to fight the barbarians alone. At daybreak, 
 while the dispute was still raging, an Athenian 
 messenger rode up to ask whether the Spartans 
 intended to carry out the proposed plan. Pausanias 
 pointed to the refractory captain as the cause of the 
 delay, and bade the messenger carry back to his chief 
 the story of the untimely obstinacy which was 
 
BOW AGAINST SPEAB. 75 
 
 endangering the common safety. Amompharetus 
 this was the dissentient captain's name still refused 
 to yield. Taking up a small boulder from the ground 
 he cast it down at the feet of Pausanias with the 
 words, "I give my vote* for staying here." At 
 last Pausanias made up his mind to move, leaving 
 the obstinate officer to act as he pleased. He had 
 not been gone long before Amompharetus followed him. 
 
 But valuable time had been lost, while the hopes 
 of the Persians, who fancied that the Greeks had 
 lost courage, rose high. They followed the seemingly 
 retreating Spartans in hot haste, and overtook them 
 just as they were joined by the division of Amom- 
 pharetus. So hot was the attack that Pausanias sent 
 messengers to the Athenians, asking for help. But 
 these were by this time engaged with the Greek 
 allies of Xerxes, and could for the present do no 
 more than hold their own. 
 
 For a time the battle seemed to go against the 
 Spartans and Tegeans; these latter, alone of all the 
 Greeks of the centre, had kept their place. The Per- 
 sians made a breastwork of their wicker shields, and 
 poured from behind it an incessant stream of arrows, 
 strongly propelled by their gigantic bows, upon the 
 line of the Greeks. These for the time . could do 
 
 * Literally, "I place my pebble.* A common method of 
 voting was by putting pebbles into an urn or box, and the 
 same word (psephos) was used for "vote" and "pebble.* 
 
76 BOW AeADCST SPBAB. 
 
 nothing but endure. The victims gave no favourable 
 signs, and without these Pausanias did not venture 
 to move. It was not till, wearied of this disastrous 
 delay, he turned to the neighbouring shrine of Here, 
 and implored the goddess to help him, that the omenfl 
 changed, and the welcome order to charge was given. 
 The Tegeans, less patient or less superstitious, had 
 already advanced, and the two armies closed in a 
 furious struggle. But the time for the bow was over ; 
 the triumph of the spear was come. In vain did the 
 Persians fling themselves with desperate courage on 
 the foe, actually grappling with them in close embrace. 
 The Greeks were practised soldiers and athletes, and 
 they were protected, as far as the most vital parts 
 were concerned, by armour. No valour could avail 
 against such odds, and the battle was soon decided. 
 The Persians fled in headlong confusion to their camp, 
 hotly pursued by their adversaries, who, now that the 
 victory was practically won, were joined by some of 
 the other Greek contingents. 
 
 The Athenians meanwhile had had a harder task, 
 matched as they were with the Greek allies of Mar- 
 donius. Foremost among these were the Thebans, a 
 race whose stubborn courage changed more than once 
 the course of Greek history.* Others were probably 
 less resolute, the Phocians especially, whose fidelity 
 
 * At Delium (B.C. 425) where they checked the tide of 
 A-thenian conquest, and again in the siege of Syracuse. 
 
BOW AGAINST SPEAB. 77 
 
 to a cause which they had espoused under compulsion, 
 had already been doubted. After a stout resistance 
 the Greek allies of Mardonius retired, but in good 
 order, and the Athenians were free to join their 
 allies in the attack upon the camp. In this no pro- 
 gress had been made, so unskilled were the Spartans 
 in all fighting not carried on in the open field. The 
 Athenians brought with them some knowledge of siege 
 operations, and it was not long before the camp was 
 stormed. A frightful massacre followed, the conquer- 
 ors slaying without mercy till their arras were weary. 
 Mardonius and his bodyguard of a thousand Immortals 
 had perished earlier in the day; before nightfall the 
 huge Persian host had practically ceased to exist. 
 It was said that only three thousand were left alive. 
 It must be remembered, however, that one of the 
 subordinate commanders, Artabanus by name, had 
 separated his own force of sixty thousand from the 
 enemy before the battle commenced. He hurried with 
 them northwards, as speedily as possible, and was 
 able to reach Asia in safety. Of the Greeks one 
 hundred and fifty-nine fell, the losses being thus divided, 
 of the Lacedaemonians ninety-one, of the Tegeans 
 sixteen, of the Athenians fifty-two. The other Greeks 
 had practically no share in the battle though, several 
 cities bribed the Plataeans, who were constituted 
 guardians of the field, to allow them to erect monu- 
 mental barrows. 
 
78 BOW AGAINST SPEAR. 
 
 Plutarch, it is true, says that the total loss of the 
 Greeks was one thousand three hundred and sixty. 
 To make up this number we must add those that fell 
 in the movements before the battle, and six hundred 
 Megarians, who were cut off by the Theban cavalry, 
 and, as Herodotus says, * perished without honour. ' 
 This makes a total of seven hundred and fifty-nine. 
 The difference between this and Plutarch's figure, (six 
 hundred) may, perhaps, be accounted for by reckoning 
 in the Helots or light-armed troops who accompanied 
 the Spartan and Perioeci. Of these there were forty 
 thousanh on the field. Herodotus gives the Spartan 
 loss oul/. 
 
HERODOTUS, 
 
 From a Bust in the Farnese Collection at 
 Naples, 
 
CHAPTER Vm 
 
 SPOILT BY PBOSPERITT. 
 
 r cannot be said that Pausanias displayed any 
 special skill in his strategy at Plataea. From 
 first to last it was a soldiers' battle, won by the 
 superior force and more effective arms and armour 
 of the Greeks. But it brought, as such battles often 
 do, an enormous access of reputation to the general 
 in command. And this was increased rather than 
 diminished by the way in which he bore himself in 
 the hour of victory. He behaved with chivalrous 
 courtesy to a Greek woman who was found in the 
 Persian camp. She had been carried off from her 
 home, which was in the island of Cos, by the Per- 
 sians, and she besought Pausanias to rescue her from 
 a dishonourable captivity. "I am always i^eady," he 
 answered, "to hear the prayer of a suppliant, much 
 more when the suppliant is the daughter of my old 
 friend, Hegetorides of Cos." To an adviser who 
 suggested that he should impale the dead body of 
 
 19 
 
80 SPOILT BY PBOSPERITT, 
 
 Mardonius by way of revenging the indignities to 
 which Xerxes had subjected the corpse of Leonidas, 
 he replied that such advice was more suited to bar- 
 barians than to Greeks; as for Leonidas and the 
 Three Hundred, they had had an ampler and more 
 noble vengeance in the thousands of Persians who 
 had fallen on the field of battle. "Never come to 
 me again," he added, *with such counsel, and think 
 yourself fortunate that even now you have not suf- 
 fered for it what you deserve." On the evening of 
 the battle he is said to have given his colleagues in 
 command a practical illustration of what seemed to 
 him the lesson of the event. "Xerxes had left his 
 war-tent with Mardonius when he fled from Greece," 
 this is the fashion in which Herodotus tells the 
 story, "and when Mardonius saw it, with its adorn- 
 ments of gold and silver and its hangings of divers 
 colours, he gave commandment to the bakers and the 
 cooks that they should prepare for him a banquet, 
 such as they had been wont to serve up to Mar- 
 donius. So they made ready, as was commanded. 
 And when Pausanias saw the couches of gold and 
 silver fairly furnished, and tables of gold and silver, 
 and all the splendid furniture of the feast, he was 
 astonished at the good things that he beheld. Then, 
 by way of jest, he bade his own servants prepare 
 a meal in Spartan fashion, and because there was a 
 notable difference between the one furnishing and 
 
SPOILT BY PROSPERITY. 81 
 
 the other, he sent for the leaders of the Greeks. 
 When the men were assembled, Pausanias, pointing 
 to the setting forth of the two meals, said, 'Men of 
 Greece, it is for this purpose I sent for you, to 
 show you the folly of these Persians, who having 
 such things at their command, came to rob us whose 
 possessions are so poverty-stricken.*' 
 
 All this was in true Spartan fashion. But no- 
 thing is more manifest in Greek history than that the 
 Spartan training did not, as a rule, enable its pupils 
 to resist the temptations of prosperity. Frugal and 
 self-restrained at home, they were too often notori- 
 ous for their luxury and self-indulgence abroad. 
 So it was with Pausanias. The spoils of the Per- 
 sian arniy amounted, as may be supposed, to a very 
 large treasure, in spite of the numerous peculations 
 of the Helots, who had been set to collect it.* A 
 tenth was set apart for the Delphian Apollo; oflfer- 
 ings -were made to the other gods ; every soldier who had 
 taken part in the battle had his share. But the 
 portion reserved for Pausanias was very large; 'ten 
 specimens of every kind of thing,' says Herodotus. 
 This sudden wealth did much to spoil him. 
 
 Herodotus says: "The Helots at this time stole manyyeiy 
 valuable things. Those they sold in after-time to the men of 
 ^gina. Ajid this was the beginning of the great wealth of 
 the men of iEgina, for they bought the gold from the Helots 
 as if it kad been bo much brass.* 
 
 6 
 
82 SPOILT BY PROSPERITT. 
 
 The corrupting process was not, indeed, manifest 
 at once. An opportunity of still further enriching 
 himself soon offered itself, and his integrity seems 
 to have excited surprise. The first act of the vic- 
 torious Greeks was to punish the traitorous conduct 
 of the Thebans. Thebes had exerted itself energetic- 
 ally to advance the Persian cause. Other states 
 had yielded to superior force, and had at the worst 
 been guilty of want of courage, but, Thebes had done 
 its very best to bring about the subjugation of Greece. 
 Pausanias now demanded that the political leaders 
 who were responsible for this misconduct should be 
 surrendered to him for punishment. The demand 
 was refused, and he proceeded to lay siege to the 
 city and to ravage its territory. The accused persons 
 then offered to give themselves up. One of them, 
 indeed, escaped, but the others were surrendered. 
 They counted, Herodotus tells us, on being regularly 
 tried, and were confident that they would be able to 
 secure an acquittal by bribing their judges. Spartan 
 corruption was already notorious in Greece, and the 
 accused men doubtless relied on purchasing the good 
 will of Pausanias, who would, of course, be president 
 of the court. This expectation the Spartan chief 
 disappointed. He treated his prisoners as men mani- 
 festly guilty, whom it would be a waste of time to 
 try, took them to the Isthmus, and there promptly 
 executed them. 
 
SPOILT BY PROSPERITY. 83 
 
 The battle of Plataea was fought in the month of 
 September. That year nothing more was done, but 
 the next spring Pausanias sailed with the fleet of 
 the confederates to Cyprus. After conquering the 
 greater part of the island, he made his way to 
 Byzantium, a Greek colony which had fallen into 
 the hands of the Persians. The Persian garrison 
 made an obstinate resistance, but, in the end, the 
 town was taken. And now the poison began to work 
 in the mind of the Spartan chief. He had already 
 given offence to his countrymen by the vainglorious 
 inscription which he had caused to be inscribed on 
 the offering made out of the spoils of Plataea to 
 the Delphian Apollo. This ran as follows: * Pausanias, 
 leader of the Greeks, having destroyed the army of 
 the Medes, offers this memorial to Phoebus." The 
 authorities of Sparta commanded that these words 
 should be erased, and that a list of the states which 
 took part in the battle of Plataea should be substi- 
 tuted for it. He now conceived the idea of making 
 
 * Herodotus describes the offering as "a golden tripod, stand- 
 ing on a bronze serpent with three heads." Pausanias saw a 
 part of it at Delphi about 150 A.D. "The bronze part of it,* 
 he says, "was there in my time, but the golden part had been 
 abstracted by the Phocian leaders." A little less than two 
 centuries afterwards this 'bronze part* was removed by Con- 
 stantino to his new capital. There it remains to this day, 
 though in a mutilated form. Spon, a French traveller, who 
 
84 SPOILT BY PBOSPERITT. 
 
 himself supreme in Greece by help of the Persian 
 king. The first step was to send to Xerxes some 
 Persian prisoners of importance who had been cap- 
 tured in Byzantium. His colleagues in command 
 were given to understand that these men had escaped. 
 He then sent a confidential agent, one Gongylus, a 
 citizen of Eretria, with a letter which ran as fol- 
 lows : * Pausanias, chief of Sparta, sends thee these 
 prisoners of war desiring to do thee a pleasure. I 
 have it in my mind, if it seems good to thee also, 
 to marry thy daughter, and to make Sparta and the 
 rest of Greece subject to thee. And this I count 
 myself able to do, by taking counsel with thee. If, 
 therefore, any of these things please thee, send down 
 to the sea some trusty man, through whom we may 
 do business hereafter." That the letter is not an 
 exact transcript of Pausanias's communication is 
 
 visited Constantinople in 1675, in company with Mr., afterwards 
 the Rev. Sir George, Wheler, saw it in a nearly perfect con- 
 dition. It is figured in his "Journey into Greece, in the com- 
 pany of Dr. Spon of Lyons," the three heads being shown 
 distinctly. The heads are now gone, though one of them is 
 still preserved in the Church of St. Irene, and exhibits a flat- 
 tened crest, intended, it would seem, to support the tripod. In 
 the Crimean war what remains of the serpent was carefully 
 examined. The inscription was then deciphered. It shows th 
 names of the nations taking part in the battle of Plataea and 
 substantially agrees with the account of Herodotus and the list 
 given by Pausanias. 
 
SPOILT BT PROSPERITT. 85 
 
 clear from the fact that the dialect used is Attic. 
 Otherwise it has a very natural look, especially in 
 the changes from the third person to the first, a 
 very likely thing to be done by a person unaccus- 
 tomed to writing. 
 
 Xerxes was greatly pleased, it would seem, at the 
 suggestion. He sent Artabazus, who had held high 
 command in the army left in Greece, with instruc- 
 tions to take over the Satrapy which included the 
 north-western coasts of Asia Minor. Artabazus was 
 the bearer of a letter which Thucydides has pre- 
 served. " Thus saith King Xerxes to Pausanias. 
 As for the men whom thou didst save over the sea 
 in Byzantium, the benefit is laid up in our house 
 recorded for ever ; as for thy words, I am pleased 
 with them, let not night or day stay thee that thou 
 shouldst fail to do the things that thou promisest. 
 and be not hindered for any spending of gold or 
 silver or for lack of men, if such thou shouldst need. 
 Fear not to do with Artabazus, a trusty man, whom 
 I send to thee, all that concerns both thy business 
 and mine, so that all profit and honour may come to 
 both of us." 
 
 The Spartan's head was fairly turned by this 
 communication from the great King. The simple 
 frugal life in which he had been trained from 
 childhood ceased to content him. He adopted the 
 gorgeous Persian dress ; Indian and Egyptian body- 
 
86 SPOILT BY PROSPERITY. 
 
 guards accompanied him in his progresses through 
 Thrace. His table was served in the very same 
 oriental fashion with which he had pointed the moral 
 of contentment for his colleagues at Plataea. His 
 demeanour became haughty and insolent to all with 
 whom he came in contact, while he began to affect 
 the seclusion which was commonly practised by 
 oriental rulers. Crimes, far worse than these follies, 
 were laid to his charge. The Spartan authorities at 
 home promptly recalled him. He obeyed the sum- 
 mons, but went out again in a private capacity. 
 His conduct again gave rise to the same suspicions. 
 The Athenians forcibly expelled him from Byzan- 
 tium. Instead of returning home he took up his 
 residence on the Troad, and continued his old in- 
 trigues. The Spartans sent a herald after him with 
 a positive injunction that he was to accompany the 
 messenger. In default he would be declared a public 
 enemy. Anxious not to push the matter to extremities, 
 he returned, hoping, not, we are compelled to believe, 
 without good reason, that by a judicious use of money 
 he could secure acquittal. On his arrival he was 
 thrown into prison. Obtaining his release, he chal- 
 lenged his accusers to put him on his trial. The 
 authorities had no absolute proofs, and they were 
 unwilling, in default of these, to proceed against a 
 man of much personal distinction, who was also 
 acting as regent for his nephew, the young son of 
 
SPOILT BY PROSPERITY. 87 
 
 Leonidas. Then some Helots with whose loyalty he 
 had tampered informed against him. He had pro- 
 mised them their freedom, they said, if they would 
 help him to overturn the existing constitution of 
 Sparta. But even this testimony did not suffice. 
 To be available against a man of such a position, 
 the proof must be beyond all question. At last 
 such proof was found. Pausanias had employed 
 a certain Argibius to act as his messenger to 
 Artabazus. Argibius had observed that none of 
 those who had been employed before him in this 
 service had returned. He broke the seal of the 
 letter, read it, and discovered an injunction that 
 the messenger was to be put to death. He carried 
 the letter to the Ephors. These magistrates 
 were at last convinced. They laid a plot to get 
 Pausanias to convict himself out of his own mouth. 
 The messenger was instructed to seek sanctuary at 
 the Temple of Poseidon on the promontory of 
 Taenarum.* The magistrates thought it probable 
 that Pausanias would seek an interview with him, 
 as the fact of his having taken sanctuary was com- 
 promising to himself. Accordingly they contrived 
 a shelter for themselves from which they might 
 hear any conversation that took place. What they 
 expected happened. Pausanias hurried to the Temple, 
 
 * Now C. Matapan. 'Matapan" has by a very probable con- 
 jecture been identified with the word m^foponaE" face." 
 
88 SPOILT BY PROBPEBITT. 
 
 and asked his servant the reason for his conduct. 
 The man reproached him with the instructions given 
 in the letter, reminded him that he had always done 
 his part in the negotiations with the king prudently, 
 and complained that he had been condemned to the 
 same fate which had overtaken his predecessors. 
 Pausanias, in answer, confessed the wrong that he 
 had done, begged for forgiveness, pledged his word 
 not to harm him, if he would leave the sanctuary, and 
 entreated him to do his errand with all speed, and 
 not retard the negotiations. The magistrates could 
 no longer doubt. They resolved to arrest Pausanias 
 as soon as he had returned to Sparta. But before 
 ihe arrest was effected, the guilty man detected on 
 the face of one of the magistrates the errand on 
 which he had come. Another of them indicated by 
 a significant nod that he should take refuge in the 
 Temple of Athen^ of the Brazen House, the sacred 
 enclosure of which was close at hand. Pausanias 
 just managed to escape his pursuers, but this did 
 but prolong his life for a few days. He had taken 
 refuge in a small chapel attached to the Temple. 
 The magistrates took off the roof and the doors and built 
 him up. When he was on the point of dying of 
 hunger, they carried him out; a few moments after- 
 wards he expired. Their first intention was to cast 
 his corpse into the pit reserved for the bodies of 
 criminals. On second thoughts they gave it decent 
 
f 
 
 SPOILT BY PROSPERITY. 89 
 
 burial near the Temple. One tragic addition to the 
 story represents that the traitor's aged mother laid 
 the first brick when he was built up. She came 
 and went in silence. She was a Spartan, but she 
 could not wholly forget that she was a mother. 
 
CHAPTER EL 
 TRAITOR OR PATRI0T9 
 
 I HAVE already spoken of the extraordinary, it 
 might almost be said, preternatural sagacity of 
 Themistocles. I have also said in reference to the 
 message which he sent to the Persian king before 
 the battle of Salamis, that in the midst of his patri- 
 otism he never forgot his personal fortunes. It is 
 difficult indeed, when we consider the events of his 
 later career, to avoid the conclusion that his piivate 
 interests counted far more with him than suits the 
 highest type of a statesman, more than they did, for 
 instance, with Ai'istides or with Cimon. Various 
 anecdotes that tend this way are told of him in 
 reference to the operations of the war. When the 
 first stand was made against the advancing Persians, 
 it was arranged that the army stationed at Thermo- 
 pylsB should be supported by the fleet taking up a 
 position at Artemisium, a promontory in the north 
 of Euboea. The inhabitants of this island reckoned, 
 
THEMISTOCLES. 
 From a Bust in the Vatican. 
 
TRAITOR OR PATRT*---? 91 
 
 in consequence, of having at least time to remove 
 their families from the scene of danger, and also to 
 secure the moveable portion of their property. But 
 the Greek commanders were so terrified by the sight 
 of the Persian fleet, which lay at anchor within view 
 on the opposite coast, and by the general sense of 
 the invader's superiority in force, that they resolved 
 to retreat. The islanders, thus abandoned, were in 
 despair. They appealed to the commanders of the 
 fleet, but in vain. Then they sought an interview 
 with Themistocles, and offered him thirty talents,* 
 if he could so arrange that the fleet should remain 
 at Artemisium for at least a few days. Themistocles 
 took the money, purchased the adherence of the Spartan 
 commander by a bribe of five talents, and that of 
 the Corinthian by a bribe of three. The remainder, 
 more than two- thirds of the whole, he kept for himself. 
 
 After the victory of Salamis, his conduct was still 
 more unscrupulous. States that had given up their 
 submission to the Persian king might expect to suffer 
 for it. Themistocles, " always seeking for gain, " 
 according to Herodotus, saw and used the oppor- 
 tunity of aggrandizing his private fortunes. He used 
 his influence with the allied Greeks to spare or deal 
 leniently with cities which purchased his favour, and 
 to use severity to those which refused to do so. 
 In one case at least, that of Carystus, an Euboean 
 
 About 7000. 
 
92 TRAITOB OB PATRIOT? 
 
 town which had been compelled to submit to tbe 
 Persians, he was unable or unwilling to fulfil his 
 bargain. He took the bribe but allowed its terri- 
 tory to be plundered. 
 
 The proceedings of Themistocles at Sparta, after 
 the final repulse of the Persians, were less blame- 
 worthy, because they were not suggested by personal 
 interest, but they were such as a high-minded States- 
 man would not have stooped to. 
 
 The Athenians began, as soon as possible after 
 their return to their country, to rebuild their city, 
 and to surround it with larger and stronger fortifi- 
 cations than it had before possessed. The Spartans, 
 prompted partly by their perpetual jealousy, partly 
 by the remonstrances of their allies, begged them to 
 desist. Their own city was, by their deliberate choice, 
 unwalled, and they would gladly have had all their 
 rivals in the same condition. The reason which they 
 put forward for their request was of a different kind. 
 It would be injurious, they alleged, to the common 
 interests of Greece, if the Persians, in any further 
 invasion, should find a walled city outside the Pelo- 
 ponnese to occupy. Thebes had been such a city, 
 and had therefore been injurious to the Greek cause. 
 The Athenians ought not to think of supplying the 
 enemy with a second advantage of the same kind. 
 The Athenians, at the suggestion of Themistocles, 
 gave no direct answer to these representations ; they 
 
TRAITOR OR PATRIOT? 93 
 
 would send envoys to Sparta who should be quali- 
 fied to express their opinion. Of those envoys Themis- 
 tocles was one. His colleagues, one of whom was 
 Aristides, were long in arriving so it had been 
 arranged and Themistocles declined to act in their 
 absence. While they lingered the whole population 
 of Athens laboured incessantly at the walls. Nothing 
 was spared, private houses and public buildings being 
 alike destroyed to furnish materials. 
 
 The walls had risen to half their planned height, 
 when news of what was going on was brought to 
 Sparta, probably by some jealous neighbour of Athens. 
 The authorities taxed Themistocles with deceiving 
 them. He promptly denied the charge; he affirmed 
 that the news was false, that nothing was being 
 done in the matter of the building of the walls. 
 " Send envoys to see for themselves, " he said to the 
 Epliors. The Spartans naturally believed an assertion 
 made with such confidence. They had, too, a profound 
 and, it must be said, a well-earned respect for 
 Themistocles, and were not unconscious of the great- 
 ness of the service which he had rendered to them and 
 to the whole of Greece. The envoys were sent, and 
 with them went private instructions from Themistocles 
 to the Athenian government to keep them in safe 
 custody, or, anyhow, to hinder them from communi- 
 cating with anyone. Meanwhile Themistocles's two 
 colleagues arrived, bringing with them authoritative 
 
94 TRAITOR OR PATRIOT? 
 
 news that the walls were now sufficiently high for 
 purposes of defence. Themistocles then came forward 
 and boldly avowed the truth. The Athenians, he said, 
 had lately proved how well able they were to judge 
 on matters that concerned their own duty and the 
 common welfare of Greece. The Spartans made no 
 reply ; they were well aware that the building might 
 possibly have been prevented, but that once done it 
 could not be undone. They uttered no remonstrances 
 or reproaches, but they never forgave the man who 
 had deceived them. They were not more favourably 
 disposed to him by his subsequent policy, when ha 
 still further increased the strength of Athens by 
 suggesting the building of the Long Walls, the 
 fortifications which connected the city with the great 
 harbour of the Peiraeus. 
 
 For a time the Spartans were content to leave 
 him to enjoy his popularity undisturbed. But they 
 had intimate relations with an influential party in 
 Athens which was always on the watch to bring 
 about the degradation of a powerful rival, nor did 
 the conduct of Themistocles himself fail to afford 
 them opportunities of attack. The people, always 
 jealous of the personal ascendency even of the most 
 esteemed citizens, took offence at the boasts which 
 the great statesman was said to utter about his 
 signal services to his country, and at various other 
 indications of self-esteem, among them the erection 
 
TRAITOR OB PATRIOT? 95 
 
 of a chapel near his house dedicated to Athen^ of 
 Good Counsel.* Then there were charges of cor- 
 ruption brought against him by persons from the 
 allied cities. It was affirmed that he had accepted 
 bribes to pronounce sentences often unjust, banishing 
 and even executing citizens on allegations of Medism 
 which had been made by personal enemies. Not 
 many years after the repulse of the Persians the precise 
 date is not known these feelings found expression 
 in a formal accusation. He was arraigned before 
 the Assembly. His political opponents did their 
 best to bring about his condemnation, and the Spar- 
 tans, it is said, were liberal with their bribes. But 
 the memory of his great services to Athens was still 
 strong. His own appeal to them carried an irre- 
 sistible weight; and he was acquitted. 
 
 In 471 the enemies of Themistocles succeeded in 
 bringing about, not his condemnation, but his ostracism, 
 the singular process by which a jealous democracy 
 expressed its opinion that this or that citizen was 
 growing too powerful to be endured with safety to 
 the state.f He retired from Athens to Argos. 
 
 * We may compare with this phrase the various titlM given 
 to the Madonna, " Our Lady of Pity,* etc. 
 
 t Ostracism (so called from the ostrakon potsherd on which 
 the vote was inscribed) was a kind of informal banishment. A 
 leading statesman proposed the banishment of a rival. The As- 
 sembly deliberated whether any such proceeding was necessary. 
 If it decided in the affirmative a day was appointed for voting. 
 
96 TRAITOR OB PATRIOT? 
 
 Six years afterwards came the discovery of the 
 treason of Pausanias, described in my last chapter. 
 The Lacedaemonian authorities discovered among the 
 documents which came into their hands what they 
 considered to be proofs of the complicity of Themis- 
 tocles. The language of Thucydides, born, it will be 
 remembered, in 471, and so not far removed from 
 the time, seems to imply that these proofs were 
 genuine. The historian Ephorus, about five genera- 
 tions later, says that Pausanias solicited the aid of 
 Themistocles, but that the latter took no part in the 
 afifair, though he concealed his knowledge of it. The 
 two accounts are not inconsistent. At the same time 
 there is nothing in the character of Themistocles to 
 make us feel, as we feel about Aristides or Cimon, 
 
 The citizens who desired to express an opinion wrote down on 
 the ostrakon the name of the person whom they thought it 
 expedient to expel from the city. It might be either the name 
 of the proposer or the name of his adversary. It was necessary 
 that as many as six thousand voters should record their 
 opinions. If this condition had been fulfilled, the person whose 
 name was found on the majority of voting-papers, if we may so call 
 them, had to go into exile. But this exile was mitigated. It 
 was limited in duration, lasting for a period of ten years, af- 
 terwards reduced to five, and it did not carry with it confis- 
 cation of property. Many distinguished citizens suffered this 
 penalty of ostracism, Aristides among them. The last person 
 to be ostracized was the demagogue Hyperbolus, so contemp- 
 tible a person, according to his enemies, that the practice fell 
 into disrepute after being applied to him. 
 
THUCYDIDES. 
 
TRAITOR OR PATRIOT? 97 
 
 fchat he could not possibly have tampered with 
 treasonable schemes. However this may be, the 
 Spartans demanded that Themistocles should be put 
 on his trial before a congress of Greek states, and 
 the two powers forthwith despatched messengers to 
 arrest him. Warned, it is probable, that Argos would 
 not venture to protect him, he fled to Corcyra,* a city 
 to which in the days of his prosperity he had done 
 some kindness. The people of Corcyra were willing 
 enough to show their gratitude, but could not engage 
 to protect him against a combination f)f the Greek 
 states. They passed him to the Mainland, where he 
 was now outside the borders of Greece. The mes- 
 sengers still pursued him, and he was so hard pressed 
 that he was compelled to take refuge in the dwelling 
 of Admetus, king of the Molossians. f Admetus had 
 in former days received some affront from Themis- 
 tocles, probably in connection with some suit against 
 an Athenian citizen, and was not likely to be friendly 
 to him. Fortunately for the fugitive, the king hap- 
 pened to be away from home. His wife received 
 Themistocles kindly, and instructed him to sit at the 
 hearth with her child in his arms. This was the 
 attitude of a suppliant, and would appeal in the 
 strongest way to both the conscience and the com- 
 
 * Now Corfu. 
 
 t 1 he Molossians were oile of the tribes inhabiting Epeima 
 i literally the "Mainland ") lying to the N.E. of Greece Proper. 
 
 7 
 
98 TRAITOR OR PATRIOT? 
 
 passion of Admetus. And the appeal was successful. 
 Admetus promised his protection, and actually refused 
 to give him up when the emissaries from Athens 
 and Sparta arrived at his court and demanded the 
 fugitive. But Themistocles was not content to spend 
 the rest of his days at the court of a half-barbarous 
 king. He had more ambitious schemes in his head. 
 Admetus, at his request, furnished him with guides 
 who conducted him across the hills to a Macedonian 
 seaport. Finding there a merchant-vessel about to 
 sail for the coast of Asia Minor he took his passage in 
 it. No one had recognized him, and he did not 
 give his name. A storm drove the vessel out of its 
 course to the island of Naxos. Under ordinary 
 circumstances the captain would have gladly seized 
 the opportunity of obtaining rest and refreshment. 
 But to stop at Naxos would have been ruin to 
 Themistocles, for the place was then besieged by an 
 Athenian fleet. Themistocles acted with charac- 
 teristic courage and ingenuity, and with as little scruple 
 as usual about speaking the truth. He discovered 
 his name to the captain, promised him a great 
 reward if he succeeded in escaping, but threatened 
 to accuse him of having been an accomplice, should 
 he be captured. The captain consented not to 
 approach, and, after beating about off the island for 
 a day and a night, carried his passenger safely to 
 Ephesus. 
 
TEAITOB OB PATRIOT? 99 
 
 Artaxerxes, the son of Xerxes, had been on the 
 
 Persian throne a few months when Themistocles 
 arrived. He received the news with pleasure, accord- 
 ing to some accounts with even extravagant expres- 
 sions of joy. The letter in which the fugitive 
 announced his arrival was abrupt and even haughty, 
 but it seems not to have given offence to the king. It 
 ran thus : " I, Themistocles^ am come to thee, 1 who did 
 to thy house more damage than any man in Greece, so 
 long as I was compelled to defend myself against thy 
 father, but who also did him great service, ivhen it 
 was possible so to do without danger to myself, and 
 his escape was imperilled. There is yet therefore 
 owing to me reward from thee. And now the Oree.ks 
 have banished me on account of my liking for thee, 
 nevertheless I can yet do thee good service. Suffer 
 me to tarry a year, after that I will come and set 
 forth my purpose by word of mouth," 
 
 During the year Themistocles set himself to learn 
 the Persian language; at the end of the time he 
 visited the court, and laid before the king a sclieme 
 for the conquest of Greece. The king on the other 
 hand treated him with munificent generosity. Ho 
 gave him a Persian wife, and the revenues of three 
 districts for his support. Magnesia, where he 
 lived, was supposed to supply him with bread, 
 Myus with other provisions, and Lampsacus with 
 wine. The amount of the first contribution was 
 
100 TEAITOR OR PATRIOT? 
 
 fifty talents,* that of the others we do not know. 
 
 Themistocles seems to have lived at Magnesia for 
 some fifteen or sixteen years. During that time he 
 had done nothing, probably had attempted to do 
 nothing towards carrying out the promise which he 
 had made to Artaxerxes. According to Thucydides 
 he died from natural causes ; the historian, however, 
 mentions a tradition that he poisoned himself because 
 he felt himself unable to carry out his intentions. 
 The people of Magnesia erected a splendid monu- 
 ment in his honour, but it was said that his friends 
 removed his remains, and buried them secretly in 
 Attic soil. 
 
 It may be said with great probability that Themis- 
 tocles never intended to do serious injury to Athens 
 or to Greece. He was, indeed, shrewd enough to see 
 that no such injury was possible. So far he may be 
 acquitted of treason ; but that he was one of the 
 most unscrupulous of politicians cannot be doubted. 
 Proofs of this have already been given in this chapter, 
 another is to be found in the amount of his property, 
 when this was confiscated after his flight from Argos. 
 He had contrived to carry off much, and his friends 
 had saved for him as much more ; nevertheless what 
 was seized realized eighty, or, according to one 
 account, a hundred talents. And he had begun life, 
 we are told, with a patrimony of three! 
 
 More than 10,000. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 tN THE THEATRE AT ATHENS, 
 
 DEMOCLES to Chromius of .Etna * greeting. 
 So far, most excellent Chromius, I have per- 
 formed the commissions entrusted to me with success. 
 You must know that Poseidon favoured us with calm 
 seas for our voyage, and that the Twin Brethren 
 sent us a following wind from the very start to the 
 
 It may be as well to explain that at the time to which this 
 letter is supposed to belong (469 B.C.) the name of iEtna sig 
 nified the town of Catana (now Catania), very near the foot of 
 Mount ^tna. Some years before this time Hiero of Syracuse 
 had expelled its inhabitants from Catana, planted it with 
 colonists of his own, and changed its name to ^tna, while he 
 claimed for himself the title of Founder. This state of things 
 lasted for fifteen years. Not long after the death of Hiero the 
 original inhabitants of the place were restored; the old name 
 was given to it again, and the new settlers occupied a town 
 belonging to the native Sicels, called Messa, and gave it the 
 name of the short-lived city from which they had been expelled. 
 The place remained under this name for several centuries, and 
 must be distinguished from the old town with its temporary title. 
 
 101 
 
102 ' IN THE THEATRE AT ATHENS. 
 
 end of our sailing. Nevertheless it was by the 
 happiest chance that we escaped a most formidable 
 danger. You must know that the venerable Thym- 
 bron, our sailing master who practises the art of 
 navigation in much the same fashion, I imagine, as 
 it was practised by Tiphys* positively refused to 
 pass through the Sicilian strait. He believes most 
 firmly in Scylla with her dogs and the fatal whirl- 
 pool of Charybdis, though no sea-faring man since 
 the days of Ulysses has seen either the one or the 
 other. Verily, he had nearly thrust us into the jaws 
 of a far more formidable monster than ever was the 
 daughter of Nisus. Scarcely had we rounded Cape 
 Lilybaeum, f when we espied a ship which Thymbron 
 at once declared to be a Carthaginian. 
 
 It wag a fifty-oar, with a big fore-and-aft sail, 
 and as we could plainly see, for we were not more 
 than eight hundred paces away, crowded with men. 
 "Wo are lost," cried our supelt-cargo. * Not so," 
 said old Thymbron, * I have not sailed these seas, 
 man and boy, for seventy years, without learning 
 something," and he put the ship's head straight for 
 the land. It seemed a mighty dangerous thing to 
 do, for the aea was breaking everywhere on rocks, 
 either just hidden under the water or shaving a foot 
 or so above. "Have a care," cried the supercargo, 
 
 * The helmsman of the Argo. 
 
 t The extreme westerly point of the island, now Capo Boro. 
 
IN THE THEATRE AT ATHEN8. 103 
 
 or you will run us aground ; and he seized the 
 old man's arm. "Away, you fool!* shouted the old 
 man, "I know what I am about, and, anyhow, it is 
 better to be drowned than to be burnt alive in honour 
 of Melkarth, or whatever villainous deity those 
 barbarians are pleased to worship. * Before long we 
 saw what Thymbron was after. There was a deep 
 pool approached by a narrow channel which the old 
 man knew, and we in it, safe, we could see, from 
 pursuit. The Carthaginian tried to follow us, but it 
 had not gone a hundred paces before the captain, 
 whom we could see standing with a plumb-line in 
 the bows, gave the signal to back. They had a 
 narrow escape of striking, and he was clearly not 
 minded to run any more risk. Then they tried to 
 reach us with their slings, but the bullets fell far 
 short, and they were only wasting their time. 
 
 They did not stop long, for the wind was coming 
 on to blow from the East, and the lee-shore was 
 dangerous. Before sunset we saw the last of them. 
 Old Thymbron was triumphant, besides getting twenty 
 gold pieces which the passengers collected for him. 
 
 We reached the Corinthian Gulf without any 
 more adventures, and landing at Crissa, which we 
 found to be little better than a heap of ruins, 
 made the best of our way to Delphi. After I had 
 performed the customary sacrifice, presenting at 
 the same time the gifts with which you entrusted 
 
104 IN THE THEATRE AT ATHENS. 
 
 me, a voice came from the shrine uttering these words : 
 
 Thine is the glory of battle and of storm-footed steeds ; but beware 
 Of the day when the brood of the lion shall come yet again to his 
 
 lair." * 
 
 The next day using the mediation of Democrates 
 my host, who desired me to give you assurances of 
 his friendship, I approached the god privately and 
 received another answer, which I think it better to 
 reserve for your own ear. From Delphi I journeyed 
 to Thebes, having the advantage of joining a strong 
 company of Theban citizens who were on their way 
 homeward. The people who dwell in these parts 
 Phocians they call them have a somewhat evil 
 reputation, being said to rob those that travel to 
 and fro from the shrine of Apollo. I saw nothing 
 of them, but the road, overhung in many places with 
 frightful mountains, is but too well suited to such doings. 
 
 Among my fellow-travellers was a kinsman of the 
 poet Pindarus. By his help and introduction I was 
 able to transact more easily the business on which 
 I came. I should not, however, in any case have 
 found much difficulty, for the poet greatly admires 
 things Sicilian. To tell the truth, he is but ill suited 
 with his surroundings of Thebes. The state, as you 
 know, followed the worse side in the Persian war, 
 
 The oracle doubtless referred to the probable return of the 
 inhabitants of Catana to the city from which they had been 
 expelled. 
 
IN THE THEATRE AT ATHENS. lOo 
 
 and was brought thereby into no little discredit, 
 which is shared even by tliose who, as was the case 
 with Pindarus, had no part in the evil doing. Thus 
 it has come to pass that though he loves his country 
 he loves not his countrymen, and still less is he 
 loved by them. Hence it pleases him to look abroad 
 for those whom he may lawfully honour and the 
 further removed these are, the safer his praise. He 
 has, I am told, been fined by his fellow-citizens for 
 speaking well of his neighbours the Athenians. But 
 of us Sicilians there is no jealousy, as there is no 
 knowledge. Indeed, it affronts me to find that most 
 nten are in ignorance concerning us, as though we 
 were barbarians. But to my business. The poet 
 willingly consents to write an Epinikion * for the 
 occasion described. He was well pleased with the 
 remuneration, of which I paid him at your desire a 
 fifth part, i.e. ten gold pieces, by way of earnest. 
 "All men," said he with a smile, "have not such 
 faith in my performance ; and from some it is hard 
 
 An "Epinikion* is a poem composed to celebrate some 
 victory at the games. All Pindar's extant poems (with one 
 exception) are of this character. The particular poem referred 
 to here is numbered ninth among the Nemean Odes, i.e. the 
 odes composed to celebrate victories won at the games held at 
 Nemea in Argolis. As a matter of fact the occasion had nothing 
 to do with Nemea. It was a chariot-race victory won at SicyoD 
 some years before. 
 
106 IN THE THEATRE AT ATHENS. 
 
 to obtain the reward even for that which has been 
 
 finished.' 
 
 And now, your affairs, most worshipful Chromius, 
 being, I trust, satisfactorily completed, I have some- 
 thing more to write which you will read, I am sure, 
 not without interest. 
 
 It had been my purpose to return home without 
 delay from Thebes, having arranged to meet the 
 ship which brought me hither at Corinth, where the 
 supercargo had business to transact. But Pindarus 
 strongly dissuaded me from carrying out this intention. 
 " Nay, " said he, when I told him what I was about 
 to do, " to depart from this land without seeing 
 Athens is a thing not to be thought of. Athens is 
 the very flower of Greece, containing in itself all 
 that is most noble and beautiful. It is the very 
 home of the Muses, of whom we that dwell in other 
 cities cultivate, according to our powers, this one or 
 that, but they the whole quire. And, indeed, you 
 are fortunate in coming at this time, for they are 
 about to keep a great feast; and their city, always 
 beautiful, will put on for the occasion a special 
 splendour ! " And then he told me a certain history 
 which I will put into the best words that I can 
 command. It ran thus: 
 
 Theseus, king of the Athenians, having gone down 
 to the regions of the dead in company with Peirithoiis, 
 his friend, sought to carry from thence Queen 
 
IK THE THEATRE AT ATHENS. 107 
 
 Proserpine. Then these two, being overtaken on 
 their return, were condemned to a perpetual impri- 
 sonment. After a while Heracles descending to this 
 same place, saw the two. Of Peirithoiis he took no 
 account, but he thought it shame that Theseus, having 
 done so great things on earth, should so suffer. 
 Having, therefore, obtained his freedom he brought 
 him back to earth, so that he again reigned in Athens. 
 But in no long time, the people not liking his rule 
 and, indeed, it may be well believed that they who 
 might come back from the dead would seldom find 
 welcome Theseus was constrained to flee from 
 Attica and to take refuge in the island of Scyros. 
 There he was treacherously slain by king Lycomedes. 
 
 So ran the story. 
 
 Some seven years since the Athenians were com- 
 manded by an oracle to bring back the bones of 
 Theseus. This they were hindered from doing by 
 various causes, but now, Cimon having captured the 
 island, they were about to do. This I heard from 
 Pindarus, who, at the same time, advised me not to 
 neglect the occasion. 
 
 Truly I can say that he advised me well ; a more 
 noble sight I have never looked upon. Athens, 
 having been made aware by a swift-sailing pinnace 
 that the sacred ship would enter the harbour at 
 sunrise on the morrow, crowded down thither to 
 welcome it. By the kindness of your friend i 
 
108 IN THE THEATRE AT ATHENS. 
 
 Andocides, who desired me to present his salutations 
 to you, I had a most convenient place for the 
 spectacle, heing promoted for the time to the rank 
 of *a distinguished stranger." 
 
 The sun was just showing itself out of the sea 
 when the sacred ship they call it the Salaminia, in 
 remembrance of the great battle entered the har- 
 bour. It was equipped and adorned in a way 
 altogether worthy of its mission. The sails, intended, 
 I should say, for ornament rather than for use, 
 were of purple; the figure-head, representing the 
 patron goddess of the city, was of more than human 
 size, and richly gilded ; the officers and men were 
 clad in holiday apparel of white, the steersman 
 being conspicuous in his scarlet cloak. As for the 
 oars, of which there were nearly four-score on either 
 side, they were dipped into the water and rose again 
 with absolute regularity. The rowers were chosen, 
 I am told, with special care from the most respectable 
 class of sea-faring men. Their pay is one drachma* 
 by the day. 
 
 So soon as the ship had been made fast to the 
 quay and the gangway lowered, one of the magis- 
 trates of the city, by title the King Archon, for the 
 Athenians, though they have long since driven away 
 their kings, yet keep this name for the officer per- 
 
 * A.bout qd.; representing a considerably larger sum in modem 
 currency. 
 
IH THE THEATEE AT ATHENS. 109 
 
 forming certain sacred duties, came forward and made 
 a set oration. In this he welcomed the hero re- 
 turning, as he said, to his city recounted the benefits 
 which he had done to it in former times, and besought 
 him to regard it with favour in the days to come. 
 This done, a silver chest, containing the bones of 
 the hero, carried by poles put through rings, was 
 brought on shore, and set on an ox waggon, of a. 
 f?hape curiously ancient, and of the very model, they 
 say, first made by Triptolemus. * It was drawn by 
 four milk-white heifers. Behind it followed the priests 
 of the various temples in the city, headed by the 
 King Archon ; after them, in the chief place of honour 
 came Cimon himself. A man of nobler aspect I never 
 saw. He was of a commanding stature, being four 
 cubits and a span f in height, his face ruddy and of a 
 most benevolent look, his hair black and long, so that it 
 curled about his shoulders. The magistrates followed 
 him, according to their rank, and behind them again 
 
 Triptolemus was, according to the legend, son of Celeus, 
 king of Eleusis, one of the regions of Attica. Demeter, hospit- 
 ably entertained by his father in her search for her lost daughter 
 Proserpine, showed her gratitude by teaching the boy the secrets 
 of agriculture, among them the waggon, or as Virgil calls it 
 (Georg. 1. 163) *The Mighty Mother's slowly moving wain." 
 
 t This would make not quite six feet four inches. The * span " 
 is the lesser span (in Greek lichas), the space included by the 
 outstretched forefinger and the thumb, as distinguished from the 
 greater span i.e. between the little finger and the thumb. 
 
110 IN THE THEATRB AT ATHENB. 
 
 came an immense multitude of citizens and aliens. The 
 chest was deposited, with many ceremonies which it 
 is needless to describe at length, in a temple, newly- 
 built for the purpose, and called by the name of the 
 hero. Not only is this dedicated to his honour, but 
 it also serves a purpose which agrees most suitably 
 with his character, as having been one who destroyed 
 oppressors and delivered them that were oppressed. 
 Here will slaves, flying from masters that use them 
 cruelly, and freemen of a mean condition, flying from 
 powerful persons whom they may have cause to fear, 
 find a refuge. 
 
 In the evening I was by special favour of Ando- 
 cides invited to a great banquet held in the Town 
 Hall. Here citizens who have done great service to 
 the state have free entertainment. Among these I 
 saw many notable persons, captains that had led 
 ranks at Marathon or commanded ships at Salamis, 
 and others. Ambassadors also were present from 
 Sparta and other places, and envoys from the islands 
 which are in alliance with Athens. 
 
 On the day following I saw and heard that which 
 delighted me more than all that has met my eyes 
 and ears since I left Mtna.. You must know that 
 among the many honours paid to Theseus, thus 
 restored, as is said, to his country, was a dramatic 
 contest. At this three writers of tragedies competed; 
 Chaerilus, a man who continues to write even in 
 
IM THE THEATRE AT ATHENS. Ill 
 
 extreme old age, for he is approaching his hundredth 
 year, ^Eschylus, of whom it is needless to speak, so 
 well are you acquainted with his genius, and Sophocles, 
 a young man who now contended for the prize for 
 the first time. On that and on the following day, 
 there were exhibited nine plays in all. For myself 
 I must confess' that I was so overpowered by what 
 I saw and heard that I could not sit out the whole. 
 I was exhausted rather than wearied. To keep the 
 mind on the stretch for so long a time was a labour 
 greater than bodily exertion. But to the Athenians 
 it seemed to be no labour at all. Even the women 
 for not a few women were present sat out the 
 performance from beginning to end seemingly un- 
 wearied, and were as eager and as keen in their 
 attention at the last as at the first. To tell how 
 great was this keenness passes all my powers of 
 describing. Did an actor make so much as an awkward 
 gesture or mispronounce a word even by a letter, 
 there went up a roar of disapproval many times, 
 I must confess, I did not perceive the cause, which 
 was explained to me by my companion nor was the 
 audience less vehement in its approval. Verily these 
 Athenians are, as it were, a nation of schoolmasters. 
 One of the tragedies that I saw I will venture to 
 describe to you as far as my abilities will suffice. 
 It was entitled 'Prometheus Chained.* The scene 
 when the curtain was lowered showed us a ravine 
 
112 IN THE THEATRE AT ATHENS. 
 
 in the Caucasus, to the precipitous side of which 
 Strength and Force have brought the Fire-God, 
 Hephaestus, to carry out their purpose. Strength 
 bids the divine craftsman begin his task his com- 
 panion, I should say, is silent throughout, looking on 
 with a stern, unpitying face. The god confesses his 
 duty but owns that it is sorely against his will to 
 do it, for he knows that it is a long and dreary 
 punishment to which he is consigning the prisoner. 
 Here, " he says 
 
 "Man's voice thou shalt not hear nor see his face; 
 Here day by day the blazing sun shall scorch 
 Thy fair skin's beauty; here thy heart shall long 
 For starry-kirtled night to hide the day, 
 And for the day returning to dispel 
 The morning's chilling frost.* 
 
 "The deliverer," he goes on to say, * is yet unborn, 
 and Zeus it not apt to chanire his purpose, for 
 "Power newly won is ever stem of mood." 
 
 This pitiful mood Strength will not away with, 
 nor does he respect the plea of kinship which 
 Hephaestus puts forth. It may be hard to put it 
 aside, but it is harder to incur the wrath of Zeus. 
 "0 much detested craft of skilful hand!* 
 
 the Fire-God exclaims, and so proceeds to his 
 task, compassing the prisoner's limbs with chains 
 and driving the rivet through his breast. All the 
 while Strength urges him on, bidding him do his 
 
IN THE THEATRE AT ATHENS. 11 '3 
 
 work 80 strongly that all the captive's art cannot 
 undo it. When all is done the ruthless minister of 
 Zeus turns away with a taunting farewell. 
 
 "Here nurse thy swelling pride; here stealing gifts 
 That dower the gods give them to mortal men, 
 To men that cannot help thee in thy woe, 
 Fore-thinker falsely called, who needest sore 
 Fore-thought to free thee from these artful chains ! * 
 
 All this time the Titan has remained silent. 
 Nnther taunts nor violence have availed to wring a 
 single word from him. Now, when he finds himself 
 alone he breaks out: 
 
 *0h! firmament of heaven! Oh! swift- winged winds! 
 Oh! river-fountains and the laugh of waves 
 Beyond all number; and Thou, Mother Earth, 
 And Thou, all-seeing Sun, behold the woes 
 I suffer, I, a god, of gods oppressed." 
 
 As he continues to lament his lot, though not 
 without the comfort, such as it is, of knowing how 
 it will end, a sound strikes his ear. " What is this 
 light whirr of wings?" he asks himself, 
 
 'I see in all that comes new cause of fear.* 
 
 Scarcely has he spoken when the new-comers 
 appear. They are the Ocean-nymphs, who have 
 come, putting aside their maiden bashfulness, from 
 their father's halls, to show the pity that they feel 
 for his woes. This pity and an equal anger against 
 
 8 
 
114 IN THE THEATRE AT ATHENS. 
 
 the power that oppresses him, they express in 
 indignant words, and they entreat the prisoner tu 
 tell his story. Prometheus consents. There had 
 been war in heaven, and he, seeing that the oldei 
 gods were bent on compassing their own ruin, had 
 ranged himself on the side of Zeus, and so brought 
 about his victory. But Zeus had been ungrateful, 
 a thing not to be wondered at 
 
 'This is the vice of kingship that it keeps 
 Mistrust of friends." 
 
 You should have heard, worshipful Chromius, the 
 roar of applause which went up from the whole 
 theatre when these words were uttered. Would 
 they have been as well received, think you, in 
 Syracuse? That I know not, but it is certain that 
 they would never have been spoken. * He went on 
 to say that, setting his new kingdom in order, Zeus 
 had taken no thought of man, had even designed to 
 destroy the race. Prometheus only had interposed 
 between him and the unhappy ones. He had given 
 them gifts which made life worth having, the gift 
 of hope, blinding them to the future, the gift of 
 fire, by which all the arts are made possible. 
 
 Before the Titan had finished his story, another 
 character appears upon the scene. This is Oceanus, 
 
 * They would, of course, have been severe reflection on 
 the government of Hiero. 
 
IN THE THEATRE AT ATHENS. 115 
 
 father of the nymphs, who comes in a chariot drawn 
 by a winged gryphon. Friendship and ties of 
 kindred have brought him, he says, and he desires 
 to give the sufferer all the help he can. The help 
 is prudent advice. Let Prometheus submit himself 
 to Zeus. This advice the Titan rejects. He had 
 known beforehand what to expect, for he had seen 
 others suffering from the wrath of Zeus, Atlas, and 
 Typhon Typhon on whom the weight of -^tna had been 
 placed. But he will not suffer wholly unavenged, 
 for from his prison-house 
 
 'In times to come great streams of fire shall bunl 
 The fruitful fair Sicilia's golden plains 
 With angry jaws devouring* 
 
 a prophecy of which none knew the terrible ful- 
 filment better than we citizens of iEtna. 
 
 Oceanus, finding his advice rejected, departs, and 
 Prometheus describes to the listening nymphs what 
 he had done for men. It was he who had taught 
 them how to live as reasonable creatures, to change 
 the caves and holes of the earth, in which they had 
 found shelter, for houses of brick and wood. He 
 had shown them certain signs of the coming of the 
 seasons, making them know the rising and setting 
 of the stars. Number, he had taught them and 
 memory, which is the mother of knowledge. He had 
 tamed the horse for them, to the great use and 
 ornament of life, and he had shown them how to 
 
116 IN THK THEATRE AT ATHENS. 
 
 traverse the sea in ships, healing arts also and the 
 gift of prophecy. 
 
 The next figure that appeared upon the stage was 
 another victim of Zeus, lo the daughter of Inachus. 
 She comes in the shape of a heifer with the face of 
 a woman, for into this similitude she has been changed 
 by the jealous wrath of Here. Behind her follows 
 close the spectre of Argus, and a monstrous gadfly 
 was seen to have fastened on her flanks. As the 
 creature came in with " skippings unseemly/ as the 
 poet himself puts it, many of the spectators laughed, 
 for these Athenians have an unconquerable passion 
 for jesting and mirth, so that they do not spare 
 even sacred things. This, it seemed to me, somewhat 
 marred the success of the play ; nor was that which 
 followed wholly suitable to the audience, if, indeed, I 
 may presume to judge of such things. For the Titan 
 told her in many words of the strange places and 
 things which she would see in her wanderings, and 
 these, I could perceive, somewhat wearied tlie listen- 
 ers. Their mood, indeed, changes very speedily, and 
 they show their disliking as readily as they show 
 their pleasure. In truth, the whole drama is somewhat 
 wanting in action, a defect which counts for much 
 with the majority. Nothing, indeed, could be nobler 
 and of a higher dignity than the conclusion which, 
 lest my long writing should weary you, I will now 
 describe. 
 
.ESCHYLUS. 
 From a Bust in the Capitoline Museum at Rome. 
 
IN THE THEATRE AT ATHENS. 117 
 
 lo having departed, Prometheus declares in no 
 uncertain words that Zeus himself will be hurled 
 down from his throne. Thereupon comes Hermes 
 the messenger, demanding of him that he should 
 reveal the secret of how these things should come 
 to pass. The Titan will not yield one jot, no, not 
 to threats of storm and earthquake and of the eagle 
 that will be sent to devour his living flesh. He is 
 obstinately silent, and the nymphs show themselves 
 as constant as he; they choose rather to share his 
 fate than to save themselves by departing. And so, 
 while the mountains seemed to reel and totter all 
 around, and the lightnings flashed, and the thunder 
 roared, coming nearer and nearer, the curtain rose, 
 the last thing that we saw being the figure of the 
 chained Prometheus standing erect and undismayed 
 in the midst of all the growing terrors of the hour. 
 
 It will not, it may be, surprise you, after what I 
 have said, that iEschylus did not win the first prize. 
 In truth, while his tragedies for there were two 
 others performed at the same time did not attract 
 the vulgar, they did not wholly please the more 
 serious. "He says strange things, methinks," I 
 heard one grave senator say to another. " Are we 
 to think that the older gods were better than the 
 new?" The prize, accordingly, was given to this 
 young Sophocles of whom I have spoken. The old 
 poet is, I hear, so displeased with his countrymen 
 
118 DT THE THEATRE AT ATHENS. 
 
 that he purposes to leave Athens for ever. May I 
 suggest to you, most excellent Chromius, that to 
 invite him to ^tna would be a most wise and 
 reasonable act? He has already visited our island, 
 and in a conversation which I had with him this 
 morning, spake of it and its inhabitants with much 
 kindness and pleasing recollection. Our new city 
 could not have ft greater ornament 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 A MODEL ARISTOCRAT. 
 
 THE career of the victor of Marathon ended ip 
 disaster and disgrace. Presuming on his un- 
 bounded popularity, he asked from the Public Assembly 
 the sole conduct of an expedition, which he pledged 
 himself to use to the great advantage of the State. 
 No one was to know whither it was to go, or whai, 
 it was to do. Everything was to be left to his 
 unfettered discretion. A considerable force was raised, 
 and put under his orders. He sailed with it to the 
 Island of Pares. Whether he hoped to exact a 
 ransom which would enrich the public treasury or, 
 as was afterwards alleged, to avenge some private 
 wrong, we do not know. Anyhow, the attempt 
 failed. The Parians refused to pay the hundred 
 talents demanded of them. Ultimately Miltiades had 
 to return, unsuccessful and broken-down in health 
 by a dangerous injury to one of his thighs. He was 
 tried, found guilty, and sentenced to pay a fine of 
 
 lit 
 
120 A MODEL ARISTOCRAT. 
 
 fifty talents. Whether, in default of payment, he was 
 thrown into prison, is not certain. He did not long 
 survive his disgrace. 
 
 The career of his son Cimon, the 'model Aris- 
 tocrat," had, therefore, an ill-omened beginning. He 
 inherited his father's liabilities and, according to one 
 account, was thrown into prison till he paid the fine. 
 The money was furnished, we are told, by Callias, 
 an Athenian noble, who married Cimon's sister 
 Elpinice. Why Cimon, who appears to have been 
 wealthy, did not pay it himself, it is not easy 
 to say. 
 
 His first public appearance was on the eve of the 
 abandonment of Athens, by its inhabitants. All the 
 able-bodied population made the fleet their home 
 the non-combatants had already been put in safety 
 and Cimon headed a company of wealthy citizens, 
 whose assessment to the State entitled them to serve 
 as horse-soldiers, when they came to hang up in the 
 temple of Athen^ their useless bridles. After the 
 defeat of the Persians, Cimon commanded, in com- 
 bination with Aristides, the Athenian contingents to 
 the allied Greek forces, which for several years 
 carried on hostilities against Persia. The irreproach- 
 able conduct and demeanour of the two com- 
 manders, so strongly contrasting with the rapacity, 
 profligacy, and arrogance of the Spartan Pausanias, did 
 much to strengthen Athenian influence. Cimon's first 
 
A MODEL ARISTOCRAT. 121 
 
 exploit was the capture of Eion, a stronghold on the 
 coast of Thrace, after a desperate resistance by the 
 Persian Governor Boges. This took place probably 
 about 478 ; in 469 occurred the incident described 
 in the last chapter, the conquest of Scyros and the 
 * translation " of the re^nains of Theseus ; in 465 Cimon 
 won a great victory near the mouth of the river Eury- 
 medas.* A Persian fleet, mainly consisting of Phoe- 
 nician ships, was attacked by the allied Greeks and 
 entirely destroyed. Ciraon then landed his troops, 
 and attacked and stormed the enemy's camp. This 
 done, he set sail to meet an expected reinforcement 
 of eighty Phoenician ships, encountered them near 
 the island of Cyprus, and sank them all. An immense 
 amount of spoil was obtained, and Cimon returned 
 to Athens in triumph. 
 
 It was probably at this time that the poet Ion, 
 an Athenian citizen though born in Chios, made the 
 acquaintance of the model aristocrat, and recorded 
 his impressions in his "Memoirs." The work itself 
 has unfortunately been lost, but Plutarch, who had 
 it before him when writing his " Lives, " has pi-eserved 
 some interesting extracts from it. It is from Ion 
 that we get the interesting sketch of Cimon's per- 
 sonal appearance.f He describes the great man's 
 
 * Now the Capri Sea, flowing into the Gulf of Alalia on the 
 southern coast of Asia Minor, 
 t See p. 109. The "long hair curling about his shoulders* 
 
122 A MODEL ARISTOCRAT. 
 
 manners as genial and pleasant, giving, as proof, that 
 he was willing to play and sing for entertainment 
 of the company it was at supper that Ion made 
 his acquaintance. This was contrasted by the guests 
 with the more austere manners of Themistocles, who 
 did not possess, or certainly would not exhibit, these 
 accomplishments. He had busied himself, not with these 
 graceful arts, but with making Athens richer and more 
 powerful, a piece of self-assertion which, it is easy 
 to imagine, his acquaintance would resent. The 
 conversation naturally turning on Cimon^s military 
 exploits, he related an incident which did more cre- 
 dit, he thought, to his perspicacity, than anything 
 else in his career. A vast quantity of booty having 
 fallen into the hands of the allied Greeks at the 
 capture of Sestos and Byzantium, the question of 
 the division arose. It consisted of prisoners and 
 property. The latter, as being of a value that could 
 
 suggests an interesting suggestion in connection with Gimon's 
 political position. The hair was worn short by Athenian citizens 
 in general, but the higher classes had the conventional privilege 
 of wearing it long. Still the practice was looked upon with a 
 certain suspicion. * To wear the hair long * (expressed by the 
 single word Kom&n) was about equivalent for "to give oneself 
 .lirs." The phrase had a still more sinister significance. Hero 
 (lotus speaking of Cylon, a noble Athenian in the latter part 
 of the sixth century, and wishing to express that he had schemes 
 for making himself despot, says, to translate his words literally, 
 *he grew his hair long with the tyranny in his thoughts.* 
 
A MODEL ARISTOCRAT. 123 
 
 be promptly realized, seemed, to most of the claimants, 
 the more desirable. Cimon earned the good opinion 
 of the allies by cheerfully conceding it to them. In 
 a short time, however, it became evident that his 
 choice had been a wise one, quite apart from its 
 conciliating effect. Relations and friends of the pri- 
 soners thronged to the camp in the hope of ransoming 
 them, and the sums thus paid far exceeded the value 
 of the property. It is probably Ion who preserved 
 other traits in Cimon's character and way of life 
 His hereditary wealth had, of course, been largely 
 increased by his share of the prize-money earned in 
 a long series of successful struggles with the Per- 
 sians. These riches he used with the most profuse 
 liberality. His gardens were thrown open to the 
 public. Everyone was at liberty to help himself at 
 his pleasure to the fruits grown in them. His own 
 table was furnished in the most frugal way, but he 
 kept open house, according to one account, for all 
 citizens who might choose to avail themselves of his 
 hospitality, more probably for members of his own 
 tribe, or, it may be, township. When he walked 
 through the city a retinue of young Athenians attended 
 him, who were instructed to exchange their cloaks 
 with any poorly-clad citizen of mature years, whom 
 they might happen to meet. Others carried bags of 
 coin with which they relieved the wants of the poor, 
 putting the money, we are told, unostentatiously into 
 
124 A MODEL ARISTOCRAT. 
 
 their hands. Probably this bounty was not altogether 
 without an ulterior object. The famous Gorgias was 
 not far wrong when he said of Cimon that he gained 
 money in order to use it, and used it in order to 
 gain power. Personal aggrandizement was not his 
 aim, but he was a keen politician. He had, it is 
 probable, much to do with the ostracism of Themis- 
 tocles. In the matter of the Areopagus, the Supreme 
 Court, as it may be roughly called, he took the 
 unpopular side, stoutly defending its prerogatives 
 against the attacks of the democratic party. In 
 foreign policy he was decidedly a friend of Sparta. 
 His idea was to divide the headship of Greece 
 between his own country and its great rival. When 
 the Helots revolted (B.C. 464) and threatened the 
 very existence of Sparta, Cimon strongly pleaded 
 that the request for help which this city addressed 
 to Athens should be granted. " Do not, " he said 
 it is Ion who has preserved his words "suffer 
 Hellas to be lamed of one leg, and Athens to 
 draw without her yoke-fellow. " The appeal was 
 successful, and a contingent was sent. Unhappily 
 the Spartans, possibly because they had on their 
 consciences a secret treaty adverse to Athens, con- 
 ceived suspicion of their allies, refused to accept their 
 services, and sent them home in disgrace. All Athens 
 was furious at the affront ; Cimon was considered, even 
 by his friends, to have gone beyond due limits of pru- 
 
A MODEL ARISTOCRAT. 125 
 
 dence, and lost, in consequence, something of his 
 popularity. We are not, therefore, surprised to find 
 that in 457 he suffered the fate of his great rival 
 Themistocles, and was ostracized. 
 
 A few weeks after his banishment, the hostile feeling, 
 which had been growing in intensity for some time, 
 between Athens and Sparta, broke out into open war. 
 A Spartan army which had been sent on an expe- 
 dition into northern Greece,* took up a position at 
 Tanagra, near the Boeotian border. It was believed 
 that its purpose was to assist the oligarchical party 
 in Athens to overthrow their democratic rivals. Nor 
 is it unlikely that some of Cimon's less discreet or 
 high-principled followers, enraged at the fall of their 
 chief, were willing to look for foreign help. This 
 was not Cimon's feeling. He begged to be allowed 
 to serve, exile though he was, with the troops sent 
 out to attack the Spartans. The request was refused. 
 He turned to his friends and begged them to vindicate 
 his patriotism. A hundred of them carried his armour 
 into the thickest of the fight, and fell round it to 
 the last man. 
 
 Before the five years of his ostracism were over, 
 Cimon was recalled, on the motion of Pericles 
 himself, who had now become the leader of the 
 
 * It had gone to protect the little mountain community of 
 Doris, the mother state, it was supposed, of all the Dorian 
 cities, against the attacks of their Phocian neighbours. 
 
126 A MODEL ARISTOCRAT. 
 
 democratic party. This was in 453. In 450 Cimon 
 took a part in bringing about a five years' truce with 
 Sparta. The next year he led a powerful expedition, 
 numbering no less than two hundred ships, to Cyprus. 
 There he died, whether of a wound received in the 
 siege of a Cyprian town, or of disease, is not known. 
 After his death the Athenians won a signal victory 
 over the combined Cilician and Phoenician fleets, 
 followed within a day or two by a great success on 
 land. The conquerors liked to believe that they 
 received the inspiration of an irresistible courage, 
 from the fact that they were carrying home for its 
 funeral honours the embalmed remains of their great 
 commander. The end of Cimon's life may be said 
 to mark the culminating point of Athenian power. 
 And it was the great merit of Cimon that Athenian 
 greatness did not mean the depression of other Greek 
 states. He realized, more perhaps than any other 
 Greek statesman, the unity of the Hellenic racaw 
 
PERICLES. 
 From a Bust in the Vatican. 
 
CHAPTER Xn. 
 
 A STATESMAN AND HIS FRIENDA 
 
 PERICLES is the most striking, though not, perhaps, 
 the most admirable figure in Greek history. 
 The date of his birth is not known, but it was 
 certainly early in the fifth century, and may be 
 conjecturally assigned to the year 495. It was some- 
 where about 469 that he took part for the first 
 time in public affairs; the occasion is unknown, but 
 he died in the autumn of 429, and his political life 
 lasted, we are told, for forty years. 
 
 As I am not writing a history of Greece, or even 
 a biography of Pericles,* I need not narrate the 
 events of the earlier part of this period. It will 
 suffice to say that the assassination of Ephialtes in 
 453, left him the acknowledged head of the demo- 
 cratic party. Ephialtes had not a tenth part of his 
 
 * Told at length and very well by Mr. Evelyn Abbott in 
 Pericles " in the series of * Heroes of the Nations. * (G. P. 
 Putnam's Sons.) 
 
128 A STATESMAN AND HIS FlilENDS. 
 
 genius, but he was a man of more popular manners 
 and better suited than his high-born colleague to 
 play the part of a democratic leader, and had he 
 lived he might have continued to hold the first place 
 in public esteem. On the other hand the death of 
 Ciraon in 449, while it threw the leadership of the 
 aristocratic party into feebler hands, left Pericles 
 beyond all question the most distinguished person in 
 Athens. This rank he continued to hold for the 
 last twenty years of his life. His popularity varied ; 
 sometimes it was all that he could do to hold his 
 own against his enemies ; but he never ceased for a 
 moment to be the greatest man in the country. 
 
 It was not long before his statesmanship was 
 severely tried. The supremacy which Athens had 
 established over Boeotia was destroyed by the 
 disastrous defeat of Coronea. A few months after- 
 wards Euboea revolted, and without Euboea as a 
 granary Athens could hardly exist ; Megara ex- 
 pelled the Athenian garrison, and to crown all, the 
 Spartans, under the command of their king Pleistoa- 
 nax, invaded Attica. Pericles, who had been sent to 
 reduce Euboea, hurried back to Athens. His return 
 was followed by the retreat of the Spartan army. 
 There is very little doubt that the king or his 
 adviser was persuaded of the necessity for this 
 movement by a bribe. * It is recorded that when 
 
 * See p. 158. 
 
A STATESMAN AND HIS FRIENDS. 129 
 
 Pericles came to pass his accounts he refused to 
 explain how he had expended a certain sum. He 
 had devoted it, he said, to a "necessary purpose," 
 and the people, among whom the bribery was 
 probably an open secret, accepted the statement. 
 The danger past, he returned to Euboea, reduced the 
 whole island to submission in a very short time, 
 and settled its future relations to Athens on terms 
 highly advantageous to the ruling state. 
 
 Early in 449 peace was concluded with Sparta, 
 and Pericles had leisure to devote himself to domestic 
 politics. He began by doing on a large scale what 
 Cimon had sought to do by private munificence he 
 won the hearts of the poorer citizens. For many, 
 provision was made by allotments of land in Euboea 
 and elsewhere; many more, about five thousand in 
 all, derived a regular income from serving on juries. 
 Various courts of law had taken over most of 
 the jurisdiction of the Areopagus, and the jurymen 
 that sat in them were now paid. A vast system of 
 public works was also carried out. Pericles devoted 
 the surplus income that came in from the ConfeJeracy 
 of Delos * to the adornment of the city. Athens 
 assumed an appearance of splendour such as no other 
 town in Greece could rival ; the expenditure set a large 
 amount of money in circulation, while the strangers 
 who thronged to it brought no small contribution of 
 
 See Chapter XV. 
 
 9 
 
130 A STATESMAN AND HIS FRIENDS. 
 
 wealth. Even the pleasures of the people were pro- 
 vided for. The drama was the favourite amusement 
 of Athens; the expenses of the theatre were defrayed 
 out of the charge made for tickets of admission, but 
 that none might be debarred from this pleasure by 
 poverty, every citizen was entitled to an allowance 
 sufficient for the purchase of a ticket. In 443 the 
 aristocrats made an effort to overthrow their great 
 adversary. An ostracism was proposed and accepted ; 
 but the result was a disastrous disappointment. It 
 was their own leader who had to go into exile. 
 
 Peace at home naturally led to enterprise abroad. 
 Pericles found occupation for the adventurous spirits 
 at Athens, and for those who for various reasons 
 desired a fresh start in a new country, in the foun- 
 dation of the Italian colony of Thurii. Of this I 
 shall speak in a subsequent chapter. Wilder schemes 
 of adventure and there were dreams of conquest in 
 Africa and Sicily he steadily discouraged. In 439 
 a formidable attempt on the part of Samos to assert 
 its independence was crushed. Samos was the most 
 powerful member, after Athens, of the Delian Con- 
 federacy, and its complete subjugation greatly strength- 
 ened the position of the Imperial city. The operation 
 was conducted throughout, and, it would seem, most 
 skilfully conducted, by Pericles. Scarcely less impor- 
 tant was the foundation during the years 437 435 of 
 colonies on the northern coast of the ^gean. This 
 
A S'lAlEsMAA AWD HIS JJ'KIENDS. 131 
 
 sea had now become, to adapt a phrase in modern 
 politics, an "Athenian Lake." A footing was also 
 obtained on the western coast of Mainland Greece. 
 The Acarnanians, a half-barbarous tribe, but possessing 
 excellent military qualities, became allies of Athens. 
 
 All this time, however, there was a steady growth 
 at home of hostility towards the great statesman. 
 The aristocrats had never forgiven him ; the extreme 
 faction among the democrats were not satisfied with 
 his rate of advance. A coalition, implying, of course, 
 no real sympathy beyond a common dislike of the 
 object of their attack, was formed between thetwo. 
 But the attack was not levelled against the man himself; 
 his position was too assured to give any prospect 
 of success: it was directed against his friends. 
 
 Foremost among the artists whose genius Pericles 
 had employed to embellish his native city was the 
 sculptor Pheidias. Among his works was the mag- 
 nificent statue of the Virgin Athen^ set Up in the 
 newly-built temple of the Parthenon.* It was thirty- 
 eight feet high, and was of wood, overlaid with gold and 
 
 * Pheidias made various statues of Athen^. One of gold and 
 ivory was executed for Pellene, one of the twelve Achaean 
 towns. Another was erected on the battle-field of PlataBa. 
 This was of colossal size, the body being constmcted of wood, 
 while the hands, feet and face were of marble from Pentelicns. 
 A third was of bronze, also colossal in size, which stood on the 
 Acropolis. It is of this that Pausanias says : * The spear-point of 
 this Athene, and the plume of her helmet are visible from 
 
132 A STATESMAN AND HIS FRIENDS. 
 
 ivory. Pheidias was now accused of having embezzled 
 some of these precious substances. On this charge, 
 however, he was able to give a triumphant refutation. 
 At the suggestion of Pericles he had so arranged the 
 covering materials that they could be easily removed. 
 This was now done; they were weighed, and found 
 to exactly agree with the amount of materials handed 
 over to the sculptor. But his enemies had another 
 resource. Among the figures on the shield of the 
 goddess were found portraits of the artist and of his 
 patron. This was made the ground of a charge of 
 impiety; the sculptor was thrown in prison, where 
 he was found dead by what means was never known 
 before the day of trial came. 
 
 Another object of attack was the philosopher 
 Anaxagoras. Anaxagoras was an Ionian Greek who 
 had come to Athens in his youth, and had been 
 admitted into the intimate friendship of Pericles. 
 The philosophy of Anaxagoras, as we have it de- 
 scribed to us by the ancients, is not unlike what we 
 should now call Theism. He believed all things to 
 have been brought into order out of Chaos by a 
 principle which he called Mind or Intelligence. For 
 the Olympian assembly of gods and the powers who 
 in the popular belief was supposed to preside over 
 the processes of nature, he found no place, though 
 
 'nnium." He appears to be speaking from his own experience, 
 but modefn scepticism has questioned the statement. 
 
A STATESMAN AND HIS FRIENDS. 133 
 
 he did not deny their existence. The sun, for 
 instance, in his view, was not the chariot of a God, 
 driven day by day to illuminate the world, but a fiery 
 body, sent, in the beginning, on its course by the 
 operation of a creative intelligence, and continuing 
 duly to follow it. This teaching was construed in- 
 to atheism by conservative religionists at Athens. 
 One of them, Diopeithes by name, proposed that 
 those who denied the existence of the gods and 
 brought forward new theories about the nature of 
 the heavenly bodies should be impeached before the 
 Assembly. Whether he mentioned Anaxagoras by 
 name, we do not know. But the resolution was at 
 once applied to him, and he was indicted. He 
 contrived, however, to escape the fate of Pheidias, 
 for though condemned and imprisoned, he was not long 
 afterwards released, and died in old age at Lamp- 
 sacus. An unintelligible charge of " Medism * was 
 afterwards brought against him, and he was found 
 guilty in his absence. 
 
 A third blow was aimed at Pericles, which must 
 have troubled him still more. He had lived unhap- 
 pily with his wife, and their marriage had been 
 dissolved by mutual consent. After this separation 
 he lived with Aspasia of Miletus. She was of a 
 rank which made a legal marriage impossible, but 
 the affection between the two was constant and 
 unbroken. She was a woman of great beauty, remark- 
 
134 A STATESMAN AND HIS FEIEND8. 
 
 able ability, and a culture then very seldom found 
 in her sex. She was accused of impiety and of 
 making gain by odious means. Pericles himself 
 appeared to plead her cause. For once he departed 
 from his attitude of dignified reserve, and employed 
 the pathetic appeals, the entreaties, and even the 
 tears which, though permitted by ancient manners to 
 an advocate, seemed scarcely to consist with his 
 character. The judges, moved by an exhibition so 
 unwonted, acquitted the accused. 
 
 But now the great statesman's policy was to be 
 put on its trial. He had done his utmost to make 
 Athens an imperial power; and this claim of hers, 
 to rule over cities that by nature this was the 
 common Greek belief were independent, was sharply 
 resisted by the rest of Greece. The protest came 
 in the shape of the Peloponnesian war. The causes 
 that brought it about had been long at work ; the 
 immediate occasion was the interference of Athens 
 in the affairs of certain colonies belonging to Corinth ; 
 the first outbreak will be related hereafter. 
 
 Whether the war could have been postponed by 
 concession on the part of Athens, it is impossible 
 to say. But Pericles was against all concession. 
 He was confident in the power of Athens to hold 
 her own, and he probably thought that she was as 
 well prepared to do so then, as she ever would be 
 again. Nor were his calculations mistaken. If he 
 
ASPASIA. 
 From a Bust Found near Civita-Vecchia. 
 
A STATESMAN AND HIS FRIENDS. 135 
 
 had lived to guide Athenian policy, or if the 
 spirit of his counsels had animated his successors, 
 Athens might well have come out of the great war 
 stronger than she was when she entered it. 
 
 .Pericles*s own life ended in gloom. A great 
 disaster, for which no human foresight could have 
 made an allowance, fell on his country,* and he was 
 one of those who suffered most from it. His elder 
 son Xanthippus fell a victim to this disease; and 
 the second son, Paralus, a youth of considerable 
 promise, followed him. At the funeral the father's 
 firmness gave way. When he placed the garland 
 round the head of the dead he burst into tears 
 The people were touched by the sight. Earlier in 
 the year the reaction against his policy had been 
 so strong that for the first time for twenty years 
 he had not been elected to the post of general, 
 and had been even fined fifty talents. Now the 
 tide turned again. His son by Aspasia was made 
 legitimate and enrolled in his father's tribe, f 
 
 In the autumn of the same year Pericles died. 
 Whatever his faults he had at least shown a splendid 
 disinterestedness, for it was found, after his death, 
 that he had not added a single drachma to the 
 inheritance received from his father. 
 
 See Chapter XIII The Great Plague of Athens.* 
 \ He was afterwards put to death among the generals con- 
 demned for neglect of the ships after the battle of ArginussB. 
 
CHAPTER XnL 
 
 TEE GREAT PLAGUE OF ATHENS. 
 
 AT the end of the first year of the Peloponnesian 
 war the Athenians were fairly entitled to 
 boast that the balance of advantage was not against 
 them. Nothing conclusive, indeed, had been accom- 
 plished on either side ; but Athens had gained more 
 successes than her adversaries, and had inflicted at 
 least as much loss as she had suffered. The confident 
 expectation of Sparta and her allies, on the other 
 hand, had been utterly disappointed. The general 
 belief, though some better informed or more saga- 
 cious observers had dissented, had been that a single 
 campaign would be enough to bring the Athenians 
 to their knees. They would not endure, it was 
 thought, to see their country ravaged. The horror 
 of the spectacle would either drive them into risking 
 a battle, in which defeat was inevitable, or make 
 them sue for peace. Attica was invaded and ravaged 
 for forty days, but the Athenians, though their 
 
 IM 
 
THE GREAT PLAGUB OF ATHENS. 137 
 
 patience was tried to the uttermost, remained resolutely 
 within their walls. * The next year the same tactics 
 were repeated, except that the Peloponnesian army 
 entered Attica earlier in the year. But if they had 
 failed at the first trial they were not likely to suc- 
 ceed on the second. But now the enemies of Athens 
 were assisted by an ally as terrible as it was 
 unexpected. A great plague broke out. Commencing, 
 it was said, in Nubia, it had ravaged Egypt, and 
 from thence had been carried to the ports which had 
 business relations with that country. It found the 
 inhabitants of Athens predisposed to suffer grievously 
 from its ravages. The whole population of Attica 
 was crowded within the city walls. It is difficult to 
 form even an approximate estimate of the numbers, 
 but these must have been very large. Three con- 
 stituent parts have to be reckoned, the Athenians 
 proper, the resident aliens, and the slaves. Supposing 
 this last to be double the first and second taken 
 together, we may, perhaps, venture on an estimate 
 
 It was only the marvellous personal ascendency of Pericles 
 that brought about this result. When the invading army came 
 within sight of the walls, and began to ravage the wealthy and 
 populous township of Acharnae, the fury of the people could 
 scarcely be restrained. AcharnsB alone contributed as many as 
 three thousand to the roll of heavy-armed soldiers, and this 
 powerful contingent had a formidable influence. No one but 
 Pericles, with his unparalleled influence over the minds of his 
 countrymen, could have prevented a sally. 
 
138 THE GREAT PLAGUE OP ATHENS. 
 
 of six hundred thousand. The available space may, 
 perhaps, be reckoned at four or five square miles. 
 That the crowding was excessive we know from 
 some direct statements and many allusions. The 
 poorer classes were obliged to content themselves 
 with such miserable shelters as hastily constructed 
 cabins and even tubs which were placed under the 
 shelter of the walls. Even consecrated spaces which 
 an immemorial tradition had forbidden to be occupied 
 were made use of under the stress of necessity. The 
 sanitary appliances for this dense multitude were, of 
 course, miserably inefficient; and the water supply 
 deficient, and, it can hardly be doubted, contaminated. 
 It was a common belief at the time that the Pe- 
 loponnesians poisoned the wells. Such fancies always 
 spring up in times of pestilence. It is not necessary 
 to have recourse to them. It would be only too 
 easy for the wells to be poisoned without the malicious 
 intervention of an enemy. Thucydides gives a full 
 account of this terrible calamity. 
 
 " The year had previously been remarkably free 
 from illness; now every disorder terminated in this. 
 Others, who were in perfect health, were suddenly 
 attacked by this ailment. First, came violent heat 
 in the head, and redness and inflammation of the 
 eyes. The throat and tongue assumed a bloody 
 tinge, and the breath became unnaturally fetid. The 
 next symptoms were sneezing and hoarseness, and 
 
THE GREAT PLAGUE OF ATHENS. 139 
 
 after this the pain descended to the chest, and was 
 accompanied by a violent cough. Sometimes the 
 disease settled in the stomach and caused violent 
 vomiting. In many cases, however, there was much 
 ineffectual retching, attended by spasmodic pain, 
 lasting much longer in some cases than in others. 
 Externally the body was not very hot, neither was 
 there much pallor. On the contrary, the skin was 
 red or livid, and covered with small pimples or sores. 
 The internal heat, however, was so violent that the 
 patient could not bear clothing or linen of even the 
 lightest kind to be laid upon him. His chief desire 
 seemed to be to throw himself into cold water. 
 Those that were not carefully watched did so, plung- 
 ing into cisterns in the agony of their unquenchable 
 thirst, a thirst which was equally troublesome, 
 whether they drank much or little. The body did 
 not fall away as much as might have been expected. 
 As long as the fever lasted it held out wonderfully. 
 Most cases terminated fatally, either on the seventh 
 or the ninth day, while there was some strength 
 still left. Escaping that, the patient was afflicted by 
 a violent diarrhoea. Many died from the weakness 
 this caused. Generally it was to be noted that the 
 disease began in the head and passed through the 
 whole body. Not a few of those who escaped with 
 their lives suffered in their extremities, losing fingers 
 or toes; in some the eyesight was destroyed. Others,! 
 
140 THE GREAT PLAGUE OF ATHENS. 
 
 on recovering, had a total loss of memory, and did not 
 know their friends or even themselves. One notable 
 thing seemed to distinguish this disease from others 
 with which mankind are attacked. The birds and 
 beasts that prey on human bodies, in this case did not 
 come near the corpses of those who perished of the 
 plague, though many lay unburied, or they died from 
 feeding on them. There was, indeed, a marked 
 disappearance of birds of prey. The effect on the 
 dogs, which, as domestic animals, are more easily 
 observed, was still more manifest. 
 " Whether the sick were neglected or most carefully 
 treated, the result seemed to be much the same. 
 No constitution was fortified against attack, the most 
 careful attention to diet was of no avail. Of all the 
 symptoms that accompanied the disease, the most 
 painful was the extreme depression that settled upon 
 those who felt themselves attacked by it. They 
 abandoned themselves to despair, and made no attempt 
 to bear up against it. The new-comers who had 
 crowded into the city, suffered most. Living, as they 
 did, not in houses, but in stifling cabins, and that in 
 the very height of the summer, they died in crowds. 
 They might be seen lying one on another in the 
 death agony, while half dying creatures, in their 
 longing for water, rolled about the fountains. The 
 sacred enclosures were full of corpses, for in the general 
 despair, all laws, sacred and profane, were disregarded. 
 
THE GREAT PLAGUE OF ATHENS. 141 
 
 The custom of burial was observed no longer, the dead 
 being disposed of in the readiest way possible. Some 
 would place the corpse of a relation on funeral piles 
 that had been prepared for others, and so set fire to 
 them, or they would do the same while the pile was 
 actually burning, 
 
 " Lawlessness increased terribly. Poor men came 
 suddenly into the possession of property, and deter- 
 mined to enjoy what had come to them so speedily , 
 and might pass out of their hands as soon. Of honour 
 there was little thought; who could tell whether he 
 might not be cut off before he could grasp it. Only 
 the pleasure of the moment seemed to be worth 
 caring for. As for the fear of the gods, or the laws 
 of men, they were of no avail. The godly and the 
 ungodly were seen to perish alike, and it seemed 
 unlikely that a man would live to answer for his 
 offences. * 
 
 The writer of this account * tells us that he was 
 himself attacked by the disease. His account of the 
 symptoms leaves little doubt that it was something 
 of the typhus kind. 
 
 We do not know the amount of the mortality 
 caused by this terrible visitation. Probably the number 
 was not accurately ascertained even at the time. 
 That it was frightfully large we may take for certain. 
 Out of a force of four thousand heavy-armed troops, 
 
 * I haye given only the most salient points. 
 
142 THE GREAT PLAGUE OF ATHENS. 
 
 under the command of Hagnon, which vainly at- 
 tempted to take Potidsea, as many as fifteen hundred 
 died. The infection is said to have been communi- 
 cated to the force already in Thrace by the new 
 arrivals from the city. 
 
 We are equally in the dark as to the nature and 
 means of the treatment employed by the physicians 
 of the time. There is a story that the famous 
 Hippocrates was called in by the Athenians, and that 
 he ordered large bonfires to be lighted in the streets 
 and squares of the city. One author gives the 
 prescription of the medicine which he is said to have 
 administered, but the whole narrative is probably 
 fictitious. 
 
CHAPTER XI7. 
 
 A COLONY. 
 HIEEOCLES AT THURII TO CHARIDEMUS AT ATHENS. 
 
 KNOW, my dearest Charidemus, that I am safely 
 arrived at this place, but not without having 
 encountered many dangers. It were too audacious to 
 compare myself in any respect to Ulysses, yet I 
 might say that Athene, who doubtless has a care 
 for all true sons of her own city, has preserved me 
 from the wrath of Poseidon.* Certainly the God of 
 the Sea, whom yet I have not consciously offended, 
 seemed to do all that he could to destroy me. In the 
 first place, as we were rounding Cape Malea, there came 
 on a mist so thick that we could see, not indeed 
 as far as a man can cast a stone, as Homer hath 
 
 * The story of the adventures of Ulysses on his return from 
 Troy, turns in a great measure on the wrath of Poseidon against 
 the hero (roused by his having blinded the Cyclops, one of the 
 god's sons) and the protection extended to him by Athen^. 
 
 148 
 
144 OOLONY. 
 
 it, but as far, rather, as he can hurl a discus* of 
 the very heaviest. Old Bacis, who knows the place, 
 and, indeed, all places on our coasts, as well as he 
 knows the way from the wine jar to his mouth, 
 was utterly perplexed. He had never seen such a 
 thing, he said, in all the sixty years of his sea- 
 faring. Twice our keel grazed the rocks underneath ; 
 twice did we find ourselves within two or three 
 fathoms of the cliff. Had we not crept as slowly 
 on as a tortoise, we had most certainly perished. The 
 shipmaster was furious, for, feeding his passengers 
 on contract, he makes more profit the quicker the 
 voyage, and seemed more content that they, and he 
 too, should be drowned than that he should open 
 another jar of wine and cask of biscuit; but Bacis 
 would have it so. Then the next day, the fog having 
 cleared off, there sprang up a fine wind from the 
 South, raising waves like mountains. The ship was 
 deluged with water, which we bailed out, all of us 
 with all our might, the said shipmaster excepted, for 
 he, half- dead with sickness and fear, basely kept 
 under. * Can you see land?* the fellow kept crying 
 * The discus was a plate of metal (in the earliest times a 
 stone) about ten or twelve inches in diameter, with a leather 
 thong through it, by which the thrower got a firm hold of 
 it. It was not thrown at a mark as are our quoits, the victo- 
 rious competitor being he who could hurl it furthest. Unfor- 
 tunately no records have been preserved either of its weight or 
 of the distances to which it was thrown. 
 
A COLONY. 145 
 
 to Bacis. The gods forbid ! * the old man answered, 
 when the wind blows in this fashion, give me the 
 open sea." Our last and worst danger was of another 
 kind. 'Twas from a Carthaginian pirate ship, which 
 we espied as we rounded Cape Malea. It was 
 lying under shelter of the rocks on the west side, 
 and had we not been taking a larger compass than 
 is usual, must have caught us. As it was we had 
 about five furlongs start, and even so escaped most 
 narrowly. The scoundrels crowded on all the sail 
 that they could, whereas old Bacis would not suflFer 
 a stitch more of canvas to be spread than he con- 
 sidered to be suitable for such weather, the wind 
 being gusty and uncertain. The shipmaster tore 
 his hair in his rage and fear, and I myself, who had 
 sooner have been drowned than spend the rest of 
 my days in an African leadmine, began to doubt. 
 The pursuers came almost within a bow-shot. Indeed, 
 a spent arrow fell at the old pilot's feet. I doubted 
 whether he saw it, so intently was he looking seaward. 
 I followed his eyes, and saw that he was watching 
 the coming up of a squall. It seemed like a black 
 patch moving over the sea. I noted it is strange 
 how clearly one sees these things at such times 
 how white the crests of the waves showed against 
 it. The next moment it had struck our pursuers and 
 capsized them. We, too, reeled under it, our leeward 
 gunwale being within a finger's breadth of the water, 
 
 10 
 
146 COLONY. 
 
 but recovered ourselves. After that we had a speedy 
 and prosperous voyage. 
 
 The history of this city of Thurii has been not 
 unlike to the voyage which I have now described. 
 It also has passed through serious dangers, and 
 happily escaping them, is like to have peace and 
 prosperity henceforth. First, we are well quit of the 
 Sybarites.* There are those who, whatever their 
 experiences, can never either learn or forget anything, 
 and these Sybarites were of this kind. It can scarcely 
 be believed with what arrogance and folly they 
 behaved themselves. Because they were descended 
 from the inhabitants of the old city, they must keep 
 to themselves, forsooth, all honours and privileges 
 in the new. *T would be in any case an intolerable 
 pretension ; how much more so when we consider 
 what manner of people these inhabitants of the old 
 city are related to have been ! The strangest stories 
 are told of their ways of living, as for instance, that 
 no noisy craft or industry, as of smiths or cobblers, 
 were permitted in their city, lest haply their slumbers 
 
 * Thurii was intended to be a revival of the colony of 
 Sybaris, which had been destroyed by its neighbour Crotona in 
 the year 530 B.C. Fifty-eight years afterwards the survivors 
 and descendants of the exiles rebuilt the city. It was destroyed 
 again by the same enemy. This was in 447. In 443 another 
 attempt was made, this time under the protection of Athens. 
 The old site of Sybaris was abandoned for another which took 
 its name from the fountain of Thuria. 
 
COLONY. 147 
 
 should be disturbed, nor was it lawful to keep a 
 cock. Their streets were covered over lest haply 
 they should be scorched by the sun, and they were 
 wont to take three days to accomplish a single day's 
 journey. They bestowed the highest honours of the 
 state on those that furnished the most costly and 
 luxurious entertainments, and at their public festivals 
 they crowned the cooks that had invented a new 
 dish. Well, to return to my story, the children and 
 grandchildren of the men that had so distinguished 
 themselves would have monopolized everything, priest- 
 hoods, magistracies and the like. And the women, 
 as is the way with them, were even more arrogant 
 than the men, forbidding, for instance, well-born 
 Athenian maidens to walk in the procession of their 
 own goddess. Something the other citizens would 
 have willingly conceded to them, but their claims 
 were beyond all endurance. In the end the matter 
 was decided by arms, a pitched battle being fought 
 in the street. The Sybarites were defeated, and 
 driven out of the city, and settling themselves in a 
 strong fortress hard by, were there set upon by the 
 barbarians, and for the most part, slain. This cause 
 of troubles being removed, another soon followed it; 
 you will readily understand that the Crotonians, 
 though they ventured not to resist the power of Athens, 
 were ill pleased to see an old rival restored. But 
 they also are now at peace with us, friendship 
 
148 A COLONY. 
 
 being noiiv easily made, when these same haughty 
 Sybarites had been expelled from the city. Thurii, 
 therefore, is now, as I have said, at rest. That it 
 will always so remain I would not willingly affirm. 
 Such is not the way in human affairs, and there are 
 special causes from which trouble may arise hereafter. 
 Never was there a city in with was so strange 
 a mixture of men! Arcadians, Boeotians, men of 
 Elis, dwellers in the Islands, and many others are 
 to be found. We Athenians are but a few in a 
 multitude. Nevertheless we shall be undisturbed in 
 our pre-eminence, so long as Athens shall prosper. 
 So much then for our affairs. And now for other 
 matters. Know in the first place, that Herodotus is 
 yet alive, but, I write it with much grief, feeble 
 and sickly. Old he is not, not having reached his 
 sixtieth year, but worn-out before his time, having 
 suffered much in his travels, as I have learnt from 
 him in many talks which I have had with him since 
 I came to this place. And, indeed, he has travelled 
 distances well nigh incredible, certainly such as no 
 other man has achieved. You know how our cousin 
 Timanthes was wont to boast of a journey to Susa 
 and back when he went on an embassy to the Great 
 King, and, indeed, there were not many men in Athens 
 who had done as much. But this journey to Susa 
 is one only, and that neither the longest or the most 
 adventurous, of the travels of Herodotus. Among 
 
COLONY. 149 
 
 US again it is a notable thing even to set foot in 
 Egypt, but he has traversed it in its length and 
 breadth, and even penetrated to its border in the 
 South, where it touches on the land of the iEthiopians. 
 As for the other countries and cities which he has 
 visited, they are almost past telling. There is scarcely 
 a Greek city which he does not know, whether at 
 home or abroad, and with the nearer barbarians, as 
 those of Thrace and Macedonia, he has no small 
 acquaintance. The Lesser Asia is well known to 
 him from East to West and from North to South. 
 
 It must be confessed that for all these labours, 
 and for the great sums of money which he has 
 expended upon them he has as yet had but a small 
 recompense, or, I might almost say, no recompense 
 at all. Consider, for instance, what has befallen him 
 in his own native city of Halicarnassus. It might 
 have been expected that his fellow-countrymen would 
 have been proud of a citizen so distinguished, all the 
 more because, apart from his reputation as a traveller, 
 he did them excellent service in the matter of the 
 Tyrant Lygdamis. As all men know, the Halicar- 
 nasseans would scarcely have rid themselves of this 
 oppressor but for the sagacious counsels of Herodotus. 
 And how have they requited him ? So far from paying 
 him due honour, they made his life unbearable this 
 I have from the life of the man himself. And the way 
 they did this was by ridicule of his tales of travel. 
 
150 A COLONY. 
 
 His name passed among his countrymen into a very 
 by-word for that which is foolish and incredible. 
 Hence it is that he emigrated to this place, where 
 he meets with less annoyance, it is true, but only 
 because he is less known. So far as the Thuriotes 
 have any acquaintance with him, they all, some five 
 or six only excepted, think of him as a teller of idle 
 tales. 
 
 * And you yourself,* this I imagine to be the 
 question which you will now put to me, " what think 
 you of these said tales?" Let me answer first that 
 men do not sufficiently distinguish between the various 
 ways which he has of telling his tales. Of some, he 
 says expressly that he does not believe them. 'Tis 
 a common phrase with him, " So they talk, but to me, 
 for one, it seems a thing incredible." There are others 
 about which he pronounces no judgment. His readers 
 may believe them or not, as they will; he does but 
 tell again what has been told to him. Others, again, 
 he relates of his own knowledge. Of these I will 
 affirm so much and no more, that he has put down 
 nothing but what he himself verily believes to be 
 true. This much, however, must be conceded, that 
 he is of a credulous temper, willing to accept the 
 marvellous, and so especially liable to be deceived. 
 Do you not remember what he writes of the temple 
 of the Tyrian Hercules, how that he saw in it two 
 pillars, one of fine gold, the other of emerald, which 
 
A OOLONT. 151 
 
 latter shone at night with a particular lustre? Of 
 the bigness of these said pillars he does not inform 
 us, but we may suppose that they are some cubits, 
 say six or seven, in height. Now of the pillar of 
 gold I need say nothing. Probably 'tis of some 
 baser metal gilded, but that the priests affirmed it 
 to be pure gold may readily be imagined. Nor can 
 one distinguish between a thing of gold and a thing 
 gilded, not being allowed either to examine a part 
 or to weigh the whole. As for the emerald it is alto- 
 gether beyond belief. An emerald is a precious 
 stone, varying, indeed, in bigness, but not passing in 
 size beyond certain limits. None have been ever 
 heard of larger than the fruit of the nut-tree. * 'Tis 
 of the same order of things as the amethyst, the 
 topaz, the chrysoprase, the pearl, though this last is 
 affirmed by some to come from a certain shell-fish. 
 What then was this pillar of emerald? Of glass, 
 surely, and hollow, so that the priests, putting a lamp 
 within, caused the nightly splendour of which our 
 friend speaks. Not seldom, indeed,' has he been 
 deceived by those from whom he sought information 
 so, at least, it seems to me. The priests in Egypt, 
 for example, told him many things of which, to say 
 the least, there is no proof, and but little probability. 
 
 * By the " nut-tree" Hierocles means the " walnut," known 
 in Italy and Greece from time immemorial. The hazel-nut is 
 indigenous in Northern Europe but was not known to the Greeks 
 
152 A OOLOHT. 
 
 Add to this a frequent cause of error, in this, that 
 all things said on either side had to pass through 
 the lips of an interpreter. It is well known how 
 much a narrative is changed when it is told for a 
 second time, though in all good faith. How much 
 greater the change when this change is increased by 
 diversities of language! 
 
 Nor must it be forgotten that things that seem 
 incredible may yet be true. Our friend says that there 
 are parts of Egypt in which it never rains,* so that the 
 falling of a few drops was considered a portent of 
 evil, which, indeed, came to pass when the country 
 was conquered by Cambyses and the Persians. This 
 seems a marvellous thing to us, as it would seem a 
 marvellous thing to these same Egyptians should 
 one tell them that in Greece, at certain seasons of 
 the year, water becomes solid so that a man may 
 walk upon it. 
 
 Do you not remember, my Charidemus, the strange 
 
 Herodotus certainly affirms that it never rained in Upper 
 Egypt. At present a few slight showers commonly fall in the 
 year, and very seldom there is heavy rain. It is possible that 
 the climate may have changed in this respect. Or Herodotus 
 may have seen no rain or signs of rain during a somewhat 
 prolonged sojourn. As to the past he may have misunder- 
 stood his informants, or even have been deliberately deceived by 
 them. It is quite possible to imagine the Egyptian priests 
 finding entertainment in misleading a tronblesomely inquisitive 
 Greek. 
 
A OOLOKT. 153 
 
 thing which our friend relates about the King, 
 who caused to be brought before him certain 
 Indians and Greeks. To the Greeks he said : * What 
 would persuade you to devour the bodies of your 
 fathers when they are dead?" At this the men 
 cried out in horror, as well they might. Then he 
 said to the Indians : " What think you of burying 
 your fathers when they die ? " But the burying seemed 
 to them as detestable a practice as did devouring to 
 the others. Yet who would have believed, without 
 certain proof, that there are men who practice cus- 
 toms so strange? And there is, I verily believe, 
 yet greater variety in nature than in the customs 
 of men, so that nothing should seem incredible in 
 the one or impossible in the other. 
 
 There are other notable persons in the city. Pore- 
 most among them, at least in his own esteem, is 
 the Spartan Cleandridas. With us at Athens he is, 
 as you know, in but ill repute, for though he did us 
 a service, * 'twas not for love but for gold. Of the 
 Thurians he has deserved better, for he led their 
 
 * The "service" was rendered in 446 B.C. when Cleandridas 
 acted as adviser to the young king Pleistoanax. The Spartans 
 had invaded the territory of Attica, but retired, without doing 
 much damage, in consequence, it was said, of a bribe offered to 
 their leaders by Pericles. The Spartan authorities believed that 
 there had been corruption, for they banished Cleandridas, and 
 inflicted a heavy fine on Pleistoanax. Cleandridas retired to 
 Thurii. 
 
154 A COLONY. 
 
 army, with much skill and judgment, according to all 
 accounts, in the war that they carried on with 
 Tarentum. He affects, I am told, luxurious ways 
 beyond all the dwellers in the city. I understand 
 that this is commonly the case with the Spartans, 
 so soon as they get out of the reach of their strict 
 discipline. 
 
 I admire more a young countryman of ours, 
 Lysias by name, who has a great reputation for 
 eloquence in this city, not ill-deserved, as far as I 
 can judge, who have heard, as you know, the great 
 Pericles himself. He teaches others to practise the 
 art in which he himself excels, and it is my pur- 
 pose when I receive the next instalment of my 
 property to enrol myself among his pupils. At 
 present I cannot by any means spare the ten mince * 
 which is his customary fee. 
 
 More remarkable than any is the philo^7)her 
 Empedocles, of Acragas f in Sicily, who has done the 
 colony the honour of paying it a visit. " Philsopher * 
 do I call him? He would scarcely be content with 
 the word. According to his own account, as there 
 
 * Ten mincB would be equal to between 85 and 36, reck- 
 oning by weight at the rate of 2d. per grain for gold. The 
 purchasing power, however, of the sum would be greater than 
 is represented by the figures in English money, gold having 
 been much scarcer than it is at present. 
 
 t Better known under its Roman name of Agrigentum. It is 
 now Girgenti. 
 
A COLONY. 155 
 
 is nothing which he does not know, so there is 
 nothing which he cannot do. If any region is plagued 
 with epidemic diseases, as are many countries, for 
 instance, with ague and fever, he can make them 
 healthy; he can bring down rain when the land 
 is suffering from drought ; he can bring back the sun 
 into the heavens when the harvests are suffering 
 from superabundance of rain; he can cure diseases 
 both of body and mind, and has remedies against old 
 age and death ; he can foretell the future and recover 
 things that have been forgotten in the past. Such 
 are his claims I have heard them from his own 
 mouth, as well as read them in the book of "Puri- 
 fications " which he has written. You will doubtless 
 ask me, * What think you of these things yourself? " 
 Let me answer that I neither believe nor disbelieve. 
 That the man has a marvellous presence, and a 
 tongue so sweet and so persuasive that, at least 
 while he is speaking, it is impossible to doubt, that 
 he has wrought many marvellous cures, has foreseen 
 things to come, or, at the least, guessed them with 
 marvellous accuracy, that he has received signal 
 honours from cities which he has benefited by his 
 counsels all these things are beyond question. More 
 I cannot say. 
 
 I have had some interesting talk with a young 
 stranger from one of the Italian towns. He was on 
 his way to Sicily to buy corn, his people suffering, 
 
156 A COLOKT. 
 
 he told me, greatly from a scarcity of food. He 
 had been shipwrecked, and after various adventures 
 a capture by robbers among them had made his 
 way to this place. There was this bond of union 
 between us, I. found, that his great-grandfather had 
 taken part, some eighty years before, in the expelling 
 of tyrants from his city" Roma," he called it even 
 as did mine from our own Athens. But they do not 
 seem to have had so much prosperity since that time 
 as the gods have granted to us. Rather they have 
 become weaker by the change, the more so as these 
 tyrants were of the powerful Etruscan race, which 
 thus became a most dangerous enemy. One of the 
 strongest and most populous cities of these Etruscans 
 is, he told me, no more than ten miles from their 
 gates.* This seems to me almost intolerable; it is 
 as if we had an enemy always at Eleusis. Then 
 again they are troubled by fierce dissensions between 
 the nobles and the common people. These latter are 
 not only shut out from their due share in the govern- 
 ment of the state, but are weighed down by an 
 almost intolerable weight of debt. Unhappily for 
 them, they have never had a Solon among them, as 
 wise as he was bold.f I doubt whether a city 
 threatened both within and without by so many 
 
 * Veii, not conquered by Rome till more than thirty years 
 after the supposed date of this letter, 
 t See the account of Solon. 
 

 A COLONY. 157 
 
 dangers, can long survive. My young friend, however, 
 who is a noble, but of the more liberal sort,* has 
 very large hopes for the future of his country. 
 Anyhow, it is at too great distance to be a formid- 
 able rival to Thurii. I must confess that I am not 
 so easy in mind about some of our nearer neighbours, 
 the Lucanians,t for instance, who already begin to 
 threaten some of the smaller Greek cities in this 
 region. I must cease, for the messenger who is to 
 carry this to Athens waits. Farewell. 
 
 * Probably one of the Valerian House, " the good house that 
 loved the people well," as Macaulay describes it. 
 
 t Hierocles was not mistaken in his anticipations of trouble 
 for the Greek cities in Italy, from their Lucanian and Bruttian 
 neighbours. Paestum, on the west coast, fell into their hands 
 about the beginning of the fourth century. Shortly after this 
 the cities formed a confederacy for self-defence against them. 
 The people of Thurii suffered a disastrous defeat from them in the 
 year 390 B.C., losing, it is said, as many as ten thousand in 
 killed and prisoners. Still, it was Rome, which at the date of 
 this letter seemed, and mdeed was, an insignificant place (there 
 was a considerable falling off in its power after the expulsion 
 of the Kings) that ultimately destroyed ihe independence of 
 the Greek cities in Italy. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 THE HOLY ISLAND, 
 
 'VTEVER saw I so fair a mortal, man or woman,* 
 ly says the shipwrecked Ulysses to the Phseacian 
 maiden Nausicaa, " and but once only as goodly a 
 thing; 'twas in Delos, the young sapling of a palm- 
 tree that sprang up by the altar of Apollo." This 
 takes us back very far ; how far we cannot say, but 
 probably, if we are to accept the opinion of the 
 majority of scholars, beyond 1000 B.C. * Anyhow 
 
 * Most scholars, at least in England, or, perhaps we should 
 rather say, out of Germany, believe that the Iliad and the 
 Odyssey, at least in their original form, were composed before 
 this date. The question is too large to be discussed here, but 
 I may summarize the argument for this early date by saying 
 that the Homeric poems describe a civilization which existed 
 in Greece before 1000 B.C. but was swept away by the Dorian 
 invasion, a movement of the rude mountain tribes of North- 
 ern Greece upon the civilized regions of the South, which took 
 place about that time. The existence of this civilization is 
 chiefly proved by the artistic remains found in Mycenae, Tiryns, 
 AmyclsB, and other towns of the Peloponnese. 
 
 158 
 
THE HOLY ISLAND. 159 
 
 we may be certain that long before the dawn of 
 history Delos was a well-known place. An island 
 so insignificant in size it is little more than five 
 miles in circumference must have had something 
 special to make it famous, for the poet to mention 
 it in this way, the hero taking it for granted that 
 Nausicaa, a native, it must be remembered, of an island 
 on the other side of Greece, knows the place of which 
 he is speaking. What this special attraction was we 
 learn from the Homeric hymn to Apollo. The hymn 
 is called " Homeric, " and was, indeed, believed by the 
 ancients to be of the same date as the great poems. 
 Modern criticism, however, has detected traces of a 
 later origin. Its date is uncertain, but it may be 
 conjecturally ascribed to the middle of the seventh 
 century B.C. In this Hymn we read as follows: 
 
 "There are met together the long-robed sons of 
 Ionia with their children and their chaste wives ; 
 there in honour of Apollo they wrestle and dance 
 and sing. Whoso shall see them will say : * Deathless 
 surely they are and Death comes not near them,' so 
 much of beauty would he behold on every side, so 
 full of delight would he be to look upon the men, 
 and the fair-girdled women, and the swift ships, and 
 the riches of every kind. And near them are the 
 maidens of Delos, priestesses of the Archer-God, who 
 celebrate in song Apollo and Artemis and Leto their 
 mother, and the glory of the famous men and the 
 
160 THE HOLY ISLAND. 
 
 famous women of old, charming with their hymns 
 the hearts of mortal men." 
 
 Delos, in fact, was the meeting-place of the Ionian 
 tribes, one of the great branches of the Hellenic race. 
 An immemorial tradition had placed there the birth- 
 place of Apollo and his sister Artemis, and the temple 
 of Apollo, who seems to have had more than his 
 share of the worshippers' homage, became the centre 
 of attraction. A Greek was accustomed to combine 
 pleasure with his religious duties, and the festival was 
 made more attractive by athletic and artistic contests. 
 Again, neither religion nor amusement distracted his 
 attention from commerce. Delos was singularly well 
 placed to be a trade centre ; it lay in the line of the 
 great trade routes, whether ending in Italy to the 
 West, or in Egypt and Syria eastwards. Both causes 
 acted together to make it a rich and popular place. 
 
 Then came the change, the first of the many 
 vicissitudes of fortune through which the island has 
 passed. The great Ionian cities on the mainland of 
 Asia Minor fell into the hands of their neighbours 
 on the East, becoming tributaries first to the Lydian 
 and afterwards to the Perisan Kings. The festival 
 was dropped ; we do not know the precise date of 
 its discontinuance, but it must have been at some 
 time in the course of the sixth century B.C. Some- 
 thing, however, of its old sanctity still clung to the 
 island. When the Persian generals, Datis and Arta- 
 
 A 
 
THE HOLY ISLAND. 161 
 
 phernes were on their way to Greece in 490, the 
 inhabitants of Delos, fearful of the fate which had 
 overtaken others islanders, fled from their homes. 
 They took refuge in Tenos, which, lying as it did 
 outside the direct route to Athens, would, they hoped, 
 be overlooked by the Persians. Datis sent a herald 
 to them with a conciliatory and reassuring message. 
 It was to this effect: 
 
 " Why have ye thus fled, ye holy men ? Why 
 think ye so ill of me? Surely I had been sufficiently 
 wise, even without the king's command to spare the 
 land which was the birth-place of the two gods, * 
 to spare both the land and them that dwell therein. 
 Come ye back therefore to your homes, and inhabit 
 again your island." 
 
 Anxious, it is possible, to atone for any slight, he 
 offered the huge, the almost incredible amount of three 
 hundred talents of frankincense on the altar of the 
 temple of Apollo. 
 
 This was in 490, the Persian army being on its 
 way to Attica, where it was to fight the disastrous 
 battle of Maiathon. Fourteen years afterwards Delos 
 
 * The Persians might identify Apollo with the Sun and Artemis 
 with the Moon. They might also have been influenced by the 
 cuiiunon belief among the Greeks that these two deities were 
 I'oiiiu'cted with pestilence and sudden death. Their general 
 jiiiictire was to destroy the sacred buildings in all the dtiei 
 ^v'hich they captured. 
 
 11 
 
162 THE HOLY ISLAND. 
 
 became, in virtue of its central position, a place of 
 the greatest importance. The defeat of the Persians, 
 at Salamis in 480, and at Plataea and Mycale in 
 479, had relieved Greece of immediate fear of inva- 
 sion, but there were many reasons for continuing 
 hostilities. The invaders had behaved with the 
 greatest barbarity, sparing nothing, sacred or profane, 
 and had thus laid up against themselves a store of 
 wrongs which it would take a generation to expiate. 
 Then again, many Greek communities were still 
 subject to their tyranny. Finally, the danger of 
 invasion, though removed for a time, might revive. 
 As long as Greece consisted of a number of inde- 
 pendent states, jealous of each other, and bound 
 together by no common sentiment, so long a powerful 
 enemy would be dangerous to them. The enemy had 
 found traitors among them already, and he would 
 certainly find them again. To oppose him success- 
 fully it would be necessary to form a confederation. 
 For some time after the victories of 479 the Greek 
 forces were under Spartan command. But the mis- 
 conduct of Pausanias and the general incapacity of 
 the Spartans for rule put an end to this arrangement. 
 Athens naturally succeeded to the place thus vacated ; 
 and Athens at once set about forming what may be 
 called an Anti-Persian league. Both the sacred asso- 
 ciations and the position of Delos, pointed it out as 
 the head-quarters of the alliance, and Athens, which 
 
HOLT ISLAND. 168 
 
 had not yet exchanged its generous patriotism for 
 selfish ambition, willingly assented. An assessment 
 towards the common object operations against the 
 Persian foe was made on the members of the 
 alliance. The total amount of the money payment 
 was large, as much as j6106,000,* and there were 
 also contingents of ships of war. We do not know 
 the details of this assessment, but we are informed 
 that it was made by Aristides, and that it gave 
 then and afterwards universal satisfaction. 
 
 It is no part of my plan to relate the history of 
 the Delian confederacy. The materials for such a 
 history, indeed, are very scanty. We know that Naxos 
 revolted about ten years after its formation, and 
 Thasos very shortly afterwards. Both islands were 
 subdued, chiefly, of course, by the power of Athens. 
 The natural result was the aggrandizement of the 
 victorious city. Little by little her relations to 
 her allies were changed. One after another, they were 
 compelled or consented to commute the contingent 
 of war-ships for an increased money contribution. 
 Before thirty years had passed all the allies, with 
 two exceptions, had become tributaries, content to 
 fulfil their obligations by a money payment, these two - 
 being Chios and Lesbos. Meanwhile the first object of 
 the confederation had been receding into the distance. 
 
 This is calculated by the value of the bullion. Probably 
 the purchasing power varied greatly from time to time. 
 
164 THE HOLY ISLAND. 
 
 The Persians had almost ceased to be formidable to 
 Greece ; any dangers which threatened the country in 
 that direction were only made serious by the unprin- 
 cipled competition which the leading Greek states 
 carried on against each other. Athens began to use the 
 fleet for her own purposes, for expanding her dominion 
 and pushing her own commerce. Nothing could be 
 a more significant mark of this change, than the fact 
 that the treasury was transferred from Delos to Athens. 
 This transfer took place in the year 454 B.C. Though 
 the island must be supposed to have lost something 
 of its dignity by this change, its splendour and we 
 may say its prosperity, were, it may be said, increased. 
 These were at their height during the twenty years 
 that intervened between 454 and the commencement 
 of the Peloponnesian war in 432. Athens had reached 
 her culminating point of wealth and power, and she 
 delighted to make the embassies sent to the Sacred 
 Island more and more magnificent. One occasion of 
 this kind was long remembered for the splendour 
 which distinguished it. The leader of the embassy 
 was Nicias, son of Niceratus, the chief of the aris- 
 tocratic party in Athens, and one of the wealthiest 
 men in the country.* Commonly the effect of the 
 spectacle was marred by the unmanageable crowd 
 that had assembled to witness the landing of the 
 
 ^ He rented, in part at least, the famous silver mines at 
 Laurium, employing in them as many as a thousand slayes. 
 
 I 
 
THE HOLY ISLAND. 165 
 
 embassy. Nicias remedied this, by disembarking the 
 previous day on the island of Rheneia, which is 
 separated from Delos by a strait about half a mile 
 in breadth. He had brought with him, from Athens, 
 in separate pieces, a bridge which was to be thrown 
 across the channel. These were put together in the 
 course of the night. The next day the procession, 
 a numerous body consisting of some of the principal 
 citizens of Athens, with musicians splendidly attired, 
 and choruses of youths and maidens clad in white, 
 made its way at a slow and measured pace across 
 the bridge, itself a handsome structure adorned with 
 gilding and tapestry. 
 
 With the Peloponnesian war naturally commenced 
 a decline in the fortunes of Delos. The resources 
 of Athens were taken up, and more than taken up, 
 with warlike expenditure, and the cost of the embassies 
 had to be seriously curtailed. Then her attitude towards 
 her dependencies was greatly changed. She became a 
 grudging and oppressive ruler. In 426 the Atheni- 
 ans undertook a complete purification of the island. 
 All remains of the dead were removed, and an ordi- 
 nance was made for the future, that, as far as could 
 be prevented, no birth or death was to take place 
 upon the island. Four years later all the native 
 inhabitants were removed and settled on the mainland. 
 A part of them, however, were permitted to return 
 after the conclusion of the peace of Nicias, the 
 
166 THE HOLY ISLAND. 
 
 Athenians attributing their disasters to the wrath of 
 Apollo at the ill-treatment of his proteges. 
 
 After the fall of Athens in 404, when the depen- 
 dencies of Athens had their freedom restored to them, 
 the Delians became independent. Their independence, 
 however, did not last long. Athens recovered pos- 
 session of the island when the Spartans* supremacy 
 in Greece ceased to exist. Nor did she lose it when 
 Philip of Macedon became practically the ruler of Greece. 
 This, as has been well remarked, she would hardly 
 have been permitted to do, if the island had been 
 of any great value. The fact is that the first three 
 quarters of the fourth century B.C. were a period 
 of great depression in the history of Delos. The 
 inscriptions from which our knowledge of this history 
 is mainly derived, have very little to tell us. The 
 Athenian embassy, if it was not entirely discontinued, 
 had little pomp or splendour about it. Offerings 
 from other states, from princes Greek or Oriental, 
 were no longer sent. The names of Philip and 
 Alexander are conspicuously absent. 
 
 Then came another change, brought about by the 
 death of Alexander. 
 
 The Generals, who sought to divide among them- 
 selves the inheritance of the great Conqueror's empire, 
 proclaimed the independence of the Greek states, in 
 the hope of gaining popularity and prestige, and 
 Delos was thus enabled again to escape from the 
 
THE HOLY ISLAND. 167 
 
 dominion of Athens. She did more; she became a 
 political power, making herself, on the strength of 
 her ancient name and sacred associations, the centre 
 of an ^gean confederacy. It could not be said 
 that the island became absolutely independent; that 
 it could hardly be, possessing as it did no resources 
 of its own, and commanding no naval or military 
 strength. Nevertheless Delos was a power; the 
 rival monarchies which had divided among themselves 
 the empire of Alexander in turns courted, and, when 
 occasion demanded, protected her, made use of her 
 religious prestige, and availed themselves of her 
 central position for the purposes of commerce. 
 
 The first power, however, to nter into friendly 
 relations with the Sacred Island was not one of the 
 monarchies set up by Alexander's generals, but the 
 Republic of Rhodes. Rhodes, gifted with a magnifi- 
 cent climate it was the island of the Sun-god and 
 never, it was said, missed for a whole day the sight 
 of his face and a fertile soil, had been wealthy 
 from the earliest times. But it owed its greatness, 
 at least in a large measure, to the political foresight 
 of its people. Towards the end of the fifth century 
 its three cities, putting aside, with an abnegation 
 rare in Greek history, their passion for independence, 
 combined to make one powerful metropolis to which 
 the name of the island was given. For the next 
 aighty years Rhodes sided, as policy seemed to 
 
168 THE HOLY ISLAND. 
 
 dictate, with one or other of the powers that con- 
 tended for mastery in the iE^ean, with Athens, 
 with Sparta, with Thebes, even with the Carian 
 princes of Halicarnassus. * It had to submit to 
 Alexander, and to receive a Macedonian garrison. 
 This it expelled after the conqueror's death, and it 
 resisted all efforts to subdue it. The repulse of Deme- 
 trius, surnamed Poliorcetes or besieger of cities, after 
 a siege which lasted for a whole year, was particu- 
 larly famous. This was the power then that first 
 supported it is possible that it may even have 
 suggested the confederacy of Delos. The inscriptions 
 found in the island, which are, indeed, the chief 
 authorities for its history, record magnificent presents 
 sent by the Rhodian Republic to the Temple of 
 Apollo, and honours bestowed by the Delians in 
 return on eminent Rhodian citizens. Rhodes had 
 been on friendly terms with the Greek kings of 
 Egypt. We find, for instance, that among the con- 
 ditions on which Demetrius raised the siege, was the 
 
 * Mausolus (374 353 B C), known by the splendid tomb 
 which his sister, widow, and successor Artemisia (353350) 
 erected to his memory. Halicarnassus had once been one of 
 the six cities which, together with the three cities of Rhodes, 
 formed the Dorian Hexapolis. It fell into the power of the 
 Carians, but seems to have retained its Greek character. 
 Herodotus the historian was a native of this town, but seems 
 not to have been on friendly terms with his fellow-citizens. 
 
THE HOLY ISLAND. 169 
 
 stipulation that the Rhorlians should help him in any 
 enterprise that he might undertake, except against 
 Egypt. It was Egypt that succeeded to Rhodes in 
 the patronage of Delos. Delos was even more 
 essential to the trade of Egypt, lying, as the latter 
 country does, far away in the south-east of the 
 Mediterranean, than it had been to Rhodes. The 
 Ptolemies, accordingly, were liberal in their gifts to 
 the Delian Apollo, while they protected the island 
 and even collected its revenues. The Delians, on 
 the other hand, instituted festivals which they called 
 after their patrons' names, and erected statues in their 
 honour. Not only royal personages, but officers of 
 state and naval and military commanders, even such 
 minor personages as the king's physician or the 
 director of the Great Library were complimented in 
 this way. 
 
 Egypt, however, did not monopolize the favour of 
 the islanlors. The rival powers of Syria and 
 Macedonia made advances to the priesthood of Apollo, 
 and these advances were graciously received. Delos 
 regarded all these powers with a benevolent neutrality, 
 opened her port to their fleets, and received their 
 gifts with absolute impartiality. Complimentary 
 inscriptions, statues, and festivals were at the service 
 of the Antiochi of Syria and the Philippi of Macedonia, 
 and of their ministers or favourites. Towards the 
 end of the third century, indeed, Egypt was superseded 
 
170 THE HOLY ISLAND. 
 
 f 
 
 by Macedonia in the place of chief patron and 
 protector; in the beginning of the second, Rhodes 
 regained her old supremacy. 
 
 But now a new power appeared upon the scene. 
 Rome, after passing successfully through the long 
 struggle of the Second Punic War, began to push 
 her conquests in the East. Antiochus III. of Syria 
 received a crushing defeat at Magnesia, in 190 B.C. 
 Twenty-two years afterwards the Macedonian kingdom 
 came to an end at the fatal battle of Pydna. Roman 
 trade followed Roman conquest, and was not slow 
 in perceiving the natural advantages of the place. 
 The commercial importance of the island rapidly 
 recovered, till in 166 B.C. it was declared a free 
 port. This proceeding gave a vast impetus to its 
 trade, chiefly at the expense of its old patron Rhodes, 
 whose customs revenue sank in three years from 
 J35,000 to scarcely ,6,000. But it was the place, 
 not the people, that enjoyed this prosperity. The 
 Roman capitalists, selfish and unscrupulous as ever, 
 procured, along with the decree that made the island 
 a free port, the expulsion of the inhabitants. 
 
 Twenty years afterwards the trade of Delos was 
 largely increased by the fall of Corinth. This great 
 trading rival removed indeed, it was a century before 
 Corinth rose from her ruins the Island enjoyed some- 
 thing like a monopoly of the Mediterranean trade. 
 The exports of the East, spices and fruits, gems and 
 
I 
 
 THE HOLY ISLAND. 171 
 
 ivory, besides works of Greek art, filled her markets. 
 When in 133 Asia * became a Roman province, this 
 commerce was enormously increased, for Asia, which 
 Tacitus describes as still rich after it had suffered 
 two centuries of spoliation, was then wealthy beyond 
 description. No branch of trade, it is probable, was 
 more lucrative than the slave market, in which, it is 
 said, as many as ten thousand were sometimes sold 
 in the course of a single day. The Roman capitalists, 
 as time went on, shared with other nations, doubt- 
 less for satisfactory considerations, the vast business 
 which found a centre in the island. As early as 
 150 B.C. the merchants of Tyre had a corporation 
 there under the protection of Hercules ; while Jews, 
 Syrians, and Egyptians had factories of their own. It 
 was a meeting place, we may say, for the trade of 
 the civilized world. 
 
 The end to this prosperity came in the first half 
 of the first century B.C. In the year 87, Arsaces, 
 one of the generals of Mithridates, king of Pontus, 
 sacked the island. The pirates, whose ravages in 
 the Mediterranean were hardly checked till Pompey's 
 masterly strategy cjjiared them out of it, completed 
 the ruin thus begun. At the beginning of the Chris- 
 tian era the island was almost deserted. To-day, it 
 affords pasture to a few sheep, and is inhabited, for 
 
 By Asia is meant North-western Asia Minor. 
 
172 THE HOLY ISLAND. 
 
 a part at least of the year, by the shepherds who 
 tend them. 
 
 A few years ago there seemed to be a chance that 
 commerce, which is ever changing its routes, might 
 give it back something of its old prosperity. When 
 steam-ships first began to traverse the Mediterranean, 
 and it was necessary to find a stopping-place for 
 them, the rival claims of Delos and Syra (the ancient 
 Syros) were considered. Syra was chosen, and the 
 place, which was then almost uninhabited, now num- 
 bers nearly fifty thousand inhabitants. 
 
 I shall now attempt to give some account of the 
 appearance of the Sacred Island as it appeared to a 
 visitor, say in the earlier half of the second century 
 before our era. Approaching, let us suppose, from 
 the west, he enters the Sacred Harbour, and sees 
 before him a terrace fronting the sea. Behind the 
 terrace is the Temple of Apollo, and behind the Temple, 
 again, rises the famous hill of Cynthus, celebrated in 
 all praises and prayers addressed to the twin children 
 of Latona. The slopes of the hill are covered with 
 buildings, sacred and secular, whose white marble walls 
 stand out against the green foliage of the Sacred Wood. 
 He lands on the left or north side of the harbour, 
 and passing through a stately portico finds himself 
 in an open space adorned with statues. On his left 
 hand is the Commercial, on his right the Sacred City. 
 Determining first to visit the latter he passes under 
 
THE HOLY ISLAND 178 
 
 a stately gate, formed of Doric columns, which the 
 city of Athens had given to Apollo in the days of 
 its supremacy. A road leads up to the Temple of 
 the chief Delian god. It is lined on either side with 
 statues, some of them heing among the finest products 
 of Greek art. The Temple itself is a small building, 
 measuring only a hundred and four feet by forty-four. 
 But it is of the finest Parian marble and exquisitely 
 proportioned. This also the Delians owe to the munifi- 
 cence of the Athenians, who built it when they recovered 
 their hold of the island, early in the fourth century. 
 It is in the Doric style, but its columns are not fluted. 
 On the left or north of Apollo's shrine is the chapel 
 of his mother, and on the north of this again, that 
 of Aphrodite. In a partial semi-circle round the 
 shrine are the Treasuries, crowded with the offerings 
 of the munificent piety of Greater Greece. The 
 enclosure and shrine of Artemis lie more to the west. 
 The whole of the consecrated shore is surrounded by 
 a finely-finished granite wall. It abounds with statues, 
 altars, halls, and colonnades, the " Portico of Philip, ' 
 king of Macedonia (220 179), being conspicuous 
 among these last for magnitude and beauty; whDe 
 the most striking, if not the most beautiful of the 
 statues is the Colossus presented by the island of 
 Naxos. If the traveller desires to find a lodging he 
 can be accommodated in one of the hostelries which 
 line almost the whole of the enclosing wall. The 
 
174 THE HOLY ISLAND. 
 
 hospitality of the priests is supposed to be gratuitous, 
 but he is expected to make some proportionate 
 offering. 
 
 The wonders and beauties of the Sacred City 
 having been viewed, the visitor turns his steps to the 
 commercial quarter. This indeed lies on both sides 
 of the consecrated enclosure, but its most stately 
 buildings are to be found on the north side of the 
 island, conspicuous among them being what, to use 
 a modem phrase, we may call the Roman factory or 
 " Schola Romanorum; " if he has a friend among the 
 resident merchants, he will probably find that he 
 has a residence on the western slope of Mount 
 Cynthus. 
 
 This is a sketch of what the labours of archaBolo- 
 gical explorers have discovered among the ruins of 
 Delos. All the treasures of the island have disap- 
 peared. Nothing of consequence in either gold or 
 silver has been found, and not a single specimen of 
 the precious Delian bronze in which the great sculptor 
 Myron was accustomed to work. Only fragments of 
 the statues remain. For centuries, indeed, the place 
 was used as a quarry. The Knights of St. John 
 fortified Malta with marble from its ruins; the church 
 of Tenos was built from Delian materials, Greek 
 houses and Turkish courts were constructed out of 
 the inexhaustible store. But the plan of the buildings 
 can be traced, and in some cases the elevation restored. 
 
THE HOLY ISLAND. 175 
 
 But the most precious survival of all is the magnificent 
 collection of inscriptions. These number more than 
 fifteen hundred, and furnish us with a record, such 
 as literature proper does not attempt to give, of the 
 ' Saered Island * and its people. 
 
CHAPTER XVL 
 
 TEE FATE OF PLAT^A. 
 
 THERE is somotliing peculiarly pathetic in the 
 story of Platsea, of its steadfast fidelity to 
 Athens, and of its unhappy fate. Of course this 
 fidelity was not a mere matter of sentiment. The 
 smaller community had, or supposed itself to have, 
 good reasons for throwing in its lot with its power- 
 ful neighbour. It profoundly disliked Thebes, the city 
 which claimed its allegiance, but had no means of 
 asserting its freedom, except by claiming the pro- 
 tection of Athens. The benefits which earned its 
 gratitude were of a substantial kind, but the way 
 in which the gratitude was shown can scarcely fail 
 to affect us with both admiration and pity, 
 
 Platsea (the word has also a plural form " Plataeee ") 
 was situated at the foot of the northern slopes of 
 Mount Cithseron, near a branch of the river Asopus, 
 by which its territory was separated from that of 
 Thebes. The name appears in the Homeric catalogue 
 
THE FATE OP PLAT^A. 177 
 
 of the Boeotian cities. It was claimed by Thebes 
 as a colony ; the Plataeans themselves traced back 
 their origin to a time more remote than the foun- 
 dation of what called itself their mother city. While 
 Thebes was built by the Phoenician Cadmus they 
 claimed as their founder Plataea, * daughter of the 
 river God Asopus. Causes of quarrel about which 
 we possess no special information arose between the 
 two, and the Plataeans watched for an opportunity 
 of bringing about a change in their relation to the 
 sovereign city. This came shortly after the expulsion 
 of the family of Peisistratus from Athens. The 
 Spartan army, which under the constraint of a divine 
 bidding, but much against the popular feeling, had 
 assisted in this work, was on its way home, when 
 some envoys from Plataea sought an interview with 
 king Cleomenes. They claimed the protection of 
 Sparta against Thebes, surrendering at the same time 
 both their city and their territory. Cleomenes declined 
 the offer on behalf of his countrymen. Sparta, he 
 said, was too remote from Plataea to give help as 
 speedily as it might be wanted. They had better 
 go and seek protection from Athens which was nearer 
 and would give more effectual protection. The ad- 
 vice was good enough, but it was not meant in a 
 friendly spirit, as far at least as Athens was con- 
 
 The name, in its plural form, may mean the " Broad 
 Streets," something like our English " Broadway." 
 
 12 
 
178 THE FATE OP PLAT^A. 
 
 cerned. The Spartan king was shrewd enough to see 
 that an alliance with a Boeotian town, little more 
 than five miles distant from Thebes, would give rise 
 to perpetual quarrels, and would be a source of 
 weakness rather than of strength; and this, indeed, 
 was the res jilt. To the Plataeans, however, the 
 advice was most welcome. They sent envoys to 
 Athens, who, taking the opportunity of a public 
 sacrifice, seated themselves as suppliants at the 
 altar, surrendered their city and territory, and 
 implored protection against Thebes. The appeal 
 was successful, and when Thebes, resenting the 
 defection of a dependent, sent a force to restore 
 her authority, Athens marched to assist her new 
 ally. The Corinthians offered their mediation, and 
 the case was referred to their arbitration. Their 
 decision was that the Thebans had no right to compel 
 the Boeotian cities to remain in the league. The 
 defeated party refused to abide by this judgment, 
 which, indeed, was fatal to their position, and attacked 
 the Athenians. They were defeated and were punished 
 by the loss of some of their territory. 
 
 According to the chronology of Thucydides these events 
 took place in the year 519 B.C. (He says that the capture oi 
 Platsea in 429 took place in the 93rd year of its alliance with 
 Athens.) Mr. Grote gives good reasons for thinking that this is 
 some error. In 519 Hippias was despot at Athens, and it would 
 hardly have suited the policy of a despot to encourage the 
 
I 
 
 THE PATE OP PLAT-SA. 179 
 
 Nineteen years after the conclusion of the alliance 
 (if we accept the date suggested below) Plataea 
 rendered substantial help to Athens at the critical 
 moment when she had to defend herself from the 
 Persian invaders. The chance that in 479 made the 
 Plataean territory the scene of the final defeat of the 
 Persian army, turned out greatly to the advantage 
 of the city. It was rebuilt at the expense of the 
 allies; a special grant of eighty talents was made to 
 it, which was expended in the erection of a temple 
 to Athene, and its citizens were charged with the 
 duty of maintaining the burial places of the Greeks 
 who had fallen in the battle, of paying them funeral 
 honour, and of celebrating, every fifth year, the festival 
 of Freedom.* In return for their services the allied 
 
 revolt of a dependent, for his superior. If we change 93rd to 
 83rd we arrive at the year 509, a more probable date, as the 
 change of government at Athens would encourage the PlatsDans 
 in their resolve to revolt. 
 
 * "On the 16th of the month Maimacterion (about equivalent 
 to the 16th of November) a procession led by a trumpeter, who 
 blew the signal for battle, marched through the middle of the 
 town. It was followed by waggons loaded with myrtle boughs 
 and chaplets, by a black bull, and by free youths, who carried 
 the vessels containing the libations for the dead. No slave 
 was permitted to minister on this occasion. At the end of 
 this procession followed the archon of Plataea, who was not 
 allowed at any other time during his office to touch a weapon, 
 or to wear any other but white garments, now wearing a 
 purple tunic, with a sword in his hand, and also bearing an urn. 
 
180 THE FATE OP PLAT^A. 
 
 Greeks guaranteed the independence and individuality 
 of the city and of its surrounding territory. The 
 Plataeans continued to discharge their duties as cus- 
 todians of the battle-field with sufficient regularity, 
 though Herodotus charges them with having allowed 
 for a consideration, cities which had really taken no 
 part in the battle, to erect fictitious tombs. The 
 victory was really won, as will be seen from Chapter 
 VII, by the Spartans, Athenians and Arcadians. 
 
 The breaking out of the Peloponnesian war, had, 
 as might have been expected, a fatal influence on the 
 fortunes of Plataea. The town was, indeed, the scene 
 of the first blow that was struck in this long and 
 disastrous struggle. The occasion was remarkably 
 characteristic of Greek life. Plataea, like almost all 
 Greek towns, was divided between two factions, the 
 aristocrats, who desired to re-enter the Boeotian League, 
 under the supremacy of Thebes, and at the same time to 
 establish their own supremacy, and the democrats who 
 were in favour of maintaining the Athenian alliance. 
 
 kept for this purpose in the public archives. When the pro- 
 cession came to the place where the Greeks who had fallen at 
 Plataea were buried, the archon first washed and anointed the 
 tombstones, and then led the bull to a hedge and sacrificed it 
 praying to Zeus and Hermes Chthonius (Hermes of the Lower 
 World, held to be the conductor of the dead), and inviting 
 the brave men who had fallen in the defence of their native 
 country, to take part in the banquet prepared for them.* 
 (Smith's Dictionary of Anti^UUt p. 72526). 
 
THE FATE OF PLAT^A. 181 
 
 The former plotted with their friends at Thebes a 
 coup d'Uat. The result was that one night about the 
 end of March in the year 431 hostilities between 
 Athens and Sparta being imminent but not yet 
 conunenced a body of three hundred Theban heavy- 
 armed, under the command of two chiefs of the 
 Boeotian League, surprised the city. The gates were 
 opened to them by their allies, and they took up a 
 position in the market-place of the city. It had been 
 arranged that a large force should follow from Thebes 
 the next day. 
 
 The traitorous Platseans urged on their Theban 
 friends, the vigorous policy of seizing the chiefs of 
 the opposite party. The Thebans, feeling some scru- 
 ples against following this advice, contented them- 
 selves with proclaiming, that anyone who wished to 
 see Plataea return to her ancient membership in the 
 Boeotian League, should join their ranks. The first 
 impulse of the democrats was to make terms. When, 
 however, they found that the force which had occupied 
 the city was but small, they resolved to attack it. 
 The Thebans were taken at a disadvantage ; they did 
 not know the localities; they had been exposed all 
 night to a drenching rain. They made, however, some 
 resistance, and forming themselves in military order, 
 repelled for a time their assailants. But the attack 
 was repeated again and again, while the women 
 threw tiles from the roofs. Then they attempted flight, 
 
182 THE FATE OF PLAT.EA. 
 
 but flight was difficult. The gate by which they had 
 entered had been shut, a Plataean having jammed 
 the place from which the bolt had been broken with 
 the bar of a javelin. A few escaped by jumping 
 down from the wall, many being killed in the attempt, 
 others escaped by an unguarded gate, a woman 
 supplying them with a hatchet with which to cut 
 through the bolt, but the main body was compelled 
 to capitulate. 
 
 Meanwhile the reinforcements from Thebes had been 
 delayed by the rain which had so swollen the Asopus 
 that it could scarcely be forded. Before they could 
 arrive, their countrymen within the walls had been 
 captured. 
 
 Of what followed we have two accounts. The 
 Thebans declared that they received from the Platse- 
 ans the assurance that if they would abstain from 
 doing any hann to persons or property which might 
 fall into their hands, the prisoners should be delivered 
 up to them unharmed. The Plataeans, on the other 
 hand, denied that they gave any such engagement. 
 All that they promised to do was to keep the fate 
 of their captives in suspense till negotiations should 
 have been opened. 
 
 This promise, unfortunately, they did not keep. 
 They had sent a messenger to Athens, as soon as 
 they became aware of the surprise of their city; and 
 they had sent a second with an account of the capture 
 
THE PATE OP PLAT^A. 183 
 
 of the Theban troops. Pericles at once grasped the 
 situation, its possibilities and its dangers. He immedi- 
 ately despatched a herald who was to bid the Platae- 
 ans take no steps about their prisoners, till they 
 should have consulted their allies. Unhappily the 
 injunction came too late. Carried away by resent- 
 ment at a treacherous and unprovoked attack, the 
 Plataeans slaughtered their prisoners, one hundred 
 and eighty in number. It was a cruel act though 
 not transgressing any article in the Greek code of 
 war, if any such code existed, and accounted for by 
 a great provocation ; and it was a fatal mistake. The 
 prisoners would have been most valuable as hostages, 
 for many of them belonged to the governing class 
 in Thebes; io put them to death was at once to 
 free the hands of their countrymen and to give them 
 an inexpiable offence. 
 
 For two years the PlataBans were left unmolested. 
 The Thebans had not sufficient strength of their own 
 to exact the revenge for which they longed, and 
 their Peloponnesian allies were unwilling to act. The 
 army could, it was thought, be more profitably 
 employed, that is, in ravaging the territory of Athens, 
 and there was probably some reluctance to attack a 
 town that was protected by a common guarantee. 
 In the third year of the war, however, when it had 
 been determined not to repeat the invasion of Attica,* 
 
 Infection from the Plague was feared. 
 
184 THE FATE OF PLAT^A. 
 
 the importunity of the Thebans prevailed, and Archi- 
 damus the Spartan king, at the head of the united 
 Peloponnesian force, entered the Plataean territory, 
 and began to lay it waste. A herald from the 
 town, from which, of course, this proceeding had been 
 watched, came forth, and addressed him: " Archi- 
 damus and ye men of Lacedaemon, ye are doing that 
 which is unworthy both of you and of your fathers. 
 Pausanias the son of Cleombrotus, having freed Greece 
 from the Persians, assigned to the Plataeans this 
 city and territory to hold in their own right, so 
 that none might injure them; and all the Greeks 
 promised that if any should so do they would protect 
 us, yet ye are come with these Thebans, who are 
 our worst enemies, to enslave us." 
 
 To this appeal Archidamus replied : * We also are 
 endeavouring to set free the Greeks from their 
 oppressors, who are now not the Persians but the 
 Athenians. In this endeavour ye ought by right to 
 join, and to this we now invite you. But if ye cannot 
 act thus, at the least remain quiet, and be friends 
 to both, helping neither in matters that pertain to 
 war." 
 
 This invitation to neutrality had already been made 
 to the Plataeans, and declined. The refusal was now 
 repeated, two reasons being given, first, that they 
 could not act without the consent of the Athenians, 
 in whose charge they had put their wives and chil- 
 
I 
 
 THE FATE OF PLAT.EA. 185 
 
 dren ; second, that if they should bind themselves to 
 receive both parties as friends, there was reason to 
 dread another treacherous attack from the Thebans. 
 
 The Spartan king replied with a liberal proposal 
 which does the highest credit to his justice and desire 
 for peace. "Hand over," he said, "your city and all 
 that is in it to us; take an account of all your 
 property, and then go wherever you please. When 
 the war is over we will restore everything to you. 
 Meanwhile we will use it in trust for you, and make 
 you an annual allowance sufficient for your needs." 
 
 These terms were so attractive that a majority of 
 the Plataeans were disposed to accept. This, however, 
 they could not do, without first obtaining the consent 
 of the Athenians. A truce was obtained from Archi- 
 damus, and a messenger was sent to lay the facts 
 before the authorities at Athens. 
 
 If the Athenians had been magnanimous, they would 
 have consented to their old allies securing for them- 
 selves terms so favourable. But the temptation to 
 refuse was too strong for them. Plataea, they knew, 
 would hold out with steadfast determination, and so 
 holding out, would divert the whole Peloponnesian 
 force from any attack on Attica. This diversion 
 would give them a breathing space, and would be 
 otherwise of great advantage. Accordingly they 
 answered the Platseans in some such terms as these : 
 " Men of Plataea, we have never yet from the very begm- 
 
186 THE PATE OP PLATJ5A. 
 
 ning of our alliance, suffered you to be wrong, noi 
 will we now suffer it. To the best of our power 
 will we help you; do you therefore keep the oaths 
 which your fathers swore to us and keep the alliance 
 between us." 
 
 These were idle words, and the Athenians could 
 hardly have failed to know that they were. They 
 had never ventured to face the Peloponnesian army 
 in the field, nor were they likely to venture now; 
 and without so venturing they could give no efficient 
 help. In making this promise they could have had 
 nothing but the vaguest hope of some favourable 
 chance occurring. As it turned out during the whole 
 of the siege and it lasted almost a year they made 
 no attempt to relieve the blockaded town. 
 
 The Plataeans accepted the instructions of their 
 ally with touching loyalty and confidence. Their 
 herald proclaimed from the walls to the Spartan king, 
 that they refused to accept his terms. Archidamus 
 replied by a solemn invocation of the gods and heroes 
 who were believed to inhabit the Plataean territory. 
 He called them to bear witness to what had happened : 
 that the Plataeans had broken the oaths which were 
 common to them and to Greece, and that they had 
 refused the reasonable terms which had been offered ; 
 he implored the protecting power to punish the 
 wrong doers, to help those who were contending for 
 the cause of righteousness and justice. 
 
THE FATE OP PLAT^A. 187 
 
 The siege that followed is one of the most re- 
 markable that have been recorded in history. Had 
 not the narrative been told by one of the most 
 exact of historians, a contemporary who must have 
 heard the story from some of those who were 
 actors in the scene, it might well have been pro- 
 nounced incredible, at least in some of its details.* 
 
 The Plataeans had, as has been said above, sent 
 away their families. The garrison numbered four 
 hundred and eighty, of whom eighty were Athenians. 
 The only non-combatants in the town were one 
 hundred and ten women slaves, who acted as cooks. 
 
 The Peloponnesians began by constructing, out of 
 the fruit-trees which they cut down in the neighbouring 
 gardens and farms, a palisade, which enclosed the 
 town. Their next proceeding was to make a mound 
 of timber and earth against part of the town- wall, 
 their object being to form a slope by which it might 
 easily be scaled. The forests of Mount Cithaeron 
 furnished abundance of timber, which, together with 
 quantities of stones and earth, was piled up in heaps, 
 
 Sir George Cox does express himself to this effect. But 
 it is difficult to see what historical narrative is to be trusted, 
 if we have to disbelieve one written by one who had all the 
 qualifications of Thucydides. He had consummate ability; he 
 had no motive for perverting the truth, he was living within 
 a few miles of the place where the events happened; he had 
 opportunities of hearing the story at first hand. All evidence 
 becanes valueless, if his is to be rejected. 
 
188 THE PATE OP PLAT^A. 
 
 kept together by supports, attached to the wall. The 
 army carried on this work for more than two weeks, 
 labouring day and night in shifts which relieved 
 each other. At the end of this time the mound was 
 very nearly on a level with the top of the town- 
 wall. The answering move of the Plataeans was to 
 erect on the part of the wall that was threatened 
 by this attack, a superstructure of wood, strengthened 
 by bricks behind it. The front was protected from 
 fire by hides raw and dressed. The besiegers pro- 
 ceeded to raise the mound to the height of the 
 additional defence; this was met by the Plataeans 
 excavating a hole in their own wall, and carrying 
 away the earth from the lower part of the mound, 
 thus causing it to fall in below as fast as it was 
 raised above. The Peloponnesians filled up the ex- 
 cavated places with stiff clay, enclosed in wattled 
 reeds, which could not be easily removed, the besieged 
 mined the ground still lower down, so that the 
 -mound continued to sink underneath as fast as it 
 was added to from above. At the same time, in 
 anticipation of a time when their counterwork should 
 cease to protect them, they built a new portion of 
 town- wall, carrying it inwards from the extremities 
 of the part against which the mound had been piled. 
 Battering rams were brought to bear against the 
 fortifications, old and new, the latter being specially 
 endangered by them. The besieged contrived to 
 
THE FATE OP PLATJEA. 189 
 
 neutralize their effect. The heads of some they pulled 
 out of the straight line by ropes, which they let down 
 over them; others they broke off by heavy beams, 
 which they let down upon them. Fire, of course, was 
 tried. Combustibles, in large quantities, were thrown 
 into the space between the mound and the concave 
 wall, and also, as far as they could reach, into the 
 city itself. A huge conflagration was raised, and for 
 a time Plataea was in danger of being burnt to the 
 ground. If the wind had continued to blow as 
 strongly and from the same quarter as it did when 
 the attempt was made, the result must have been 
 fatal. But it either shifted or fell; according to one 
 account, an opportune thunderstorm extinguished the 
 flames. 
 
 The difficulties in this account are obvious. We 
 may suppose, indeed, that the besieged found plenty 
 of materials in the vacant portions of the town. 
 Plataea had evidently shrunk greatly during the sixty 
 odd years which had intervened between the day of 
 Marathon, ^hen they had sent a thousand warriors 
 to join the Athenian army, and the siege, when their 
 able-bodied men numbered but a few over four hun- 
 dred. And now the departure of all the non-com- 
 batant population must have left available for the 
 construction of new defences a large quantity of bricks, 
 stone, and timber. But how could the strength of less 
 than five hundred men have held out against the 
 
190 THE FATE OP PLAT^A. 
 
 exertions of an enemy, which must have exceeded 
 them twenty or thirty times at the very least ? Why 
 did not the Lacedaemonians attempt a direct assault? 
 How could the great circuit of the walls have been 
 defended by so scanty forces, occupied as these were, 
 at the same time, by works so laborious?* 
 
 The result of all these operations and counter- 
 operations was, that the besiegers abandoned all hope 
 of taking the town either by assault or mine, and 
 settled down to the tedious task of reducing it by 
 blockade. 
 
 Two distinct walls were constructed, sixteen feet 
 apart. The space between the two was covered and 
 filled up for the reception of the besieging force 
 which consisted of Boeotian and Peloponnesian troops 
 in equal parts. Two ditches were also excavated 
 the earth dug out furnished, in fact, the material 
 out of which the bricks were made one of them 
 inside, the other outside the walls, and severally 
 intended to prevent the exit of the enemy, or the 
 entry of a relieving force. These lines of circura- 
 
 A simple calculation will show as that the available forces 
 must have been wholly inadequate. Allowing that two thirds 
 of the garrison, i.e. three hundred and twenty men, could have 
 been always available, these would have had to patrol seven 
 miles and a half of wall, besides carrying on a laborious system 
 of countermining. No story more difficult to believe and yet 
 supported by evidence so strong has ever been told. 
 
THE PATE OP PLAT^A. 191 
 
 vallation were completed about the middle of Sep- 
 tember. In three months* time the object aimed at 
 was accomplished. Famine had become so severe in 
 the town that it was impossible to hold out any 
 longer. Under these circumstances, the general in 
 command proposed an attempt to escape, and was 
 strongly backed by the prophet Theasnetus, who may 
 be described as the religious adviser of the garrison. 
 This had been reduced by this time to four hundred 
 and twenty-four men. A plan was concerted, but at 
 the last moment, half of this number, overwhelmed by 
 the difficulties in the way of its execution, renounced 
 the attempt. 
 
 It has been said that the town was enclosed with 
 a double wall, or rather two walls made into one by 
 a covering. Each of these two was furnished with 
 battlements, and at each tenth battlement there was 
 a roofed tower, taking up the whole breadth of the 
 wall structure, but with a passage in the centre. 
 It was the custom of the besiegers to patrol thQ 
 whole length of the walls at night, but the sentries 
 sometimes used to retire under the shelter of the 
 towers when the weather was wet or stormy. Such 
 a night the Plataeans chose for their attempt. It 
 was nearly mid- winter; there was furious wind, 
 carrying with it rain and sleet, and no moon. They 
 carried with them ladders of a length calculated to 
 the height of the investing wall (ascertained by 
 
192 THE FATE OF PLATvEA. 
 
 repeated counting of the layers of bricks), and were 
 lightly armed, some with shields and spears, others 
 with breastplates, javelins, and bows and arrows. 
 One foot only was shod, the other being naked, to 
 give it a firmer hold on the muddy ground. They 
 moved with the wind in their faces, so that any 
 sound they might make might be carried away, and 
 were careful not to be so close together as to let 
 their arms clash. They crossed the inner ditch 
 without being discovered. This done, some of them 
 climbed the wall, took possession of two of the 
 towers, the guards in which they surprised and slew 
 without arousing their comrades, and so secured a 
 place over which the whole body might pass. Almost 
 all had mounted on the wall when one of them 
 disturbed a tile, and so betrayed what was going on 
 to the besiegers. An alarm was raised, and the 
 garrison hurried up to the top of the wall, but did 
 not know the precise spot to which they ought to 
 turn. At the same time the remainder of the besieged 
 made a diversion by a feigned sally on the opposite 
 side of the town. Fire signals were raised to give 
 notice at Thebes that help was wanted. But here 
 also the besieged caused some perplexity by raising 
 signals of their own. 
 
 Meanwhile the escaping Plataeans had climbed the 
 wall, crossed it, descended on the other side, and 
 even crossed the outer ditch, though this they found 
 
THE FATE OF PLATiEA. 193 
 
 covered with a thin coat of ice, unusually full of 
 water. Reaching the other side, they drew them- 
 selves up in line, and kept in check with showers of 
 arrows and javelins the only body of the enemy 
 which found itself in a position to attack. This was a 
 body of three hundred, which had been specially set 
 apart for emergencies. It is probable that they had at 
 first set off in a wrong direction ; anyhow, when they 
 came up they found the escape almost accomplished. 
 There remained on the wall only those who had 
 first mounted it, and had secured and held the towers, 
 while their comrades were coming. The three hundred 
 besiegers held torches in their hands, and so offered a 
 fair mark to the Plataeans. Confused by the missiles 
 sent among them, and not seeing their adversaries, they 
 remained stationary, giving time for the rest of the 
 Plataeans to join their comrades. Before they could 
 recover themselves, the fugitives had disappeared in 
 the darkness. They put their pursuers on a wrong 
 scent by taking at first the road to Thebes; after 
 pursuing this for something less than a mile, they 
 turned off to the east, and taking a compass, made 
 their way unharmed to Athens. One man was 
 unlucky enough to be captured, three or four lost 
 heart and turned back, the whole number that escaped 
 was two hundred and twelve. Those who turned 
 back reported to their countrymen in the town that 
 their comrades had perished in the attempt. These 
 
 13 
 
194 THE FATE OF PLAT^A. 
 
 accordingly sent a herald to beg their bodies for 
 burial ; it was from the answer which he received 
 that they learnt for the first time, not, we may be 
 sure, without feelings of regret for their own want 
 of decision, the success of the enterprise. 
 
 For some six or seven months more the town con- 
 tinued to hold out. Then, the stock of provisions 
 being entirely exhausted, it capitulated. The besiegers 
 could, of course, have easily taken it by storm 
 indeed the garrison even in its full strength could 
 hardly have resisted an assault but the Spartan 
 government gave strict orders that this should not be 
 done. Their motive was this, that when peace came to 
 be concluded, as it probably would, on the condition that 
 towns and territory taken by either side should be 
 restored, Plataea would not come under this descrip- 
 tion. A town voluntarily surrendered would not be 
 considered to have been "taken." The distinction 
 seems to us exceedingly sophistical, in view of such 
 sun*ender being compelled by pressure of famine, but 
 it was recognized by public opinion at the time. 
 
 The Thebans had now the opportunity of exacting 
 their long-deferred vengeance. The prisoners were 
 arraigned before five Spartan judges, who sat to try 
 their cause. What followed, however, cannot be de- 
 scribed as a trial. The prisoners were simply asked 
 such seems to have been the course arranged between 
 the Lacedsemonians and the Thebans 'Have you 
 
THE FATE OF PLATiBA. 195 
 
 during the present war rendered any service to the 
 Lacedaemonians or their allies? " Such a question 
 really prejudged the case. The only answer that 
 was possible implied a condemnation of the accused. 
 The prisoners begged that they might be allowed to 
 plead their cause; and this request was granted, in 
 spite of the opposition of their implacable enemies 
 from Thebes. Two speakers were appointed on behalf 
 of the whole body, and a speech which probably 
 represents the substance of what they said has been 
 preserved by Thucydides. They began by protesting 
 against such a mockery of a trial, and appealed to 
 the better feelings of their Spartan judges, as bound 
 to try their cause on broader grounds. They told again 
 the story of Theban oppression, and of their resort, 
 suggested by the Spartans themselves, to the help 
 and protection of Athens, of their patriotic conduct 
 during the Persian War, so strongly contrasting with 
 the treasonable compliance of Thebes, and of the 
 unprovoked attack made on them by their neigh- 
 bours, which had been the cause of all their troubles. 
 The speech made some impression, it would appear, 
 on the judges, and the Thebans claimed the right to 
 reply. They dwelt on the fact that Plataea had 
 deserted the Boeotian confederacy to throw in her lot 
 with a foreign city, defended their action in the matter 
 of the attack, which had been suggested, they said, by 
 some of the most patriotic citizens of Plataea, recalled 
 
196 THE FATE OF PLAT^A. 
 
 the cruel breach of faith by which their countrymen 
 had been put to death, and finally reminded the 
 Spartans that Thebes was an important member 
 of the Peloponnesian alliance, and was entitled to 
 the gratitude of its chief. 
 
 The verdict was such as was expected, we may say, 
 arranged. Each prisoner was separately asked the 
 question put to the whole body. When he answered, 
 as he could not but answer, in the negative, he was 
 led off to execution. Two hundred Platseans thus 
 perished, and twenty-five Athenians shared their fate. 
 
 The survivors were hospitably treated at Athens 
 and granted certain rights of citizenship. About 
 seven years afterwards the town of Scione on the 
 coast of Macedonia was handed over to them.* 
 
 * Scione had revolted from Athens and had been recaptured 
 by them. All the grown-up males were put to death. At the 
 conclusion of the Peloponnesian war the Plataeans were compelled 
 to give up the place, and they again took refuge in Alliens. Seven- 
 teen years afterwards (387 B.C.) when by the peace of Antal- 
 cidas all the Greek cities were declared free and independent, 
 the Spartans, who were then at enmity with their old allies 
 of Thebes, and desired above all things to hunible them, rebuilt 
 Platsea, and invited its inhabitants to return. It was but a 
 doubtful benefit, for the Platseans were compelled to receive a 
 Spartan garrison and governor. The city was, in fact, nothing 
 more than an outpost, intended to keep Thebes in check. 
 Fifteen years afterwards, during the brief supremacy of the 
 Boeotian power, under the able leadership of Kpuminondas, it 
 was again surprised by the Thebans and destroyed. Finally in 
 888 came the last change in its chequered fortunes. Philip of 
 Macedon again rebuilt the city, and invited the descendants of the 
 old inhabitants to resume possession of their ancestral home. After 
 this its history was uneventful. We hear of it in the sixth century 
 of our era, when its walls were restored by the Emperor Justinian. 
 
CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 PARTL 
 
 THE FIRST CAMPAIGN. 
 
 r would be for the historian, not for a writer who 
 aims at nothing more than to present a few pic- 
 turesque scenes from Greek story, to describe at length 
 the causes which resulted in the disastrous expedition 
 of the Athenians to Sicily. Athens had recovered 
 from the disasters that had overtaken her in the 
 early years of the Peloponnesian War, and was, to 
 say the least, as strong as she had ever been. It 
 was natural that she should look about for fresh 
 fields for her superabundant activities, fresh occasions 
 for aggrandizement. Ambition cloaked itself, as usual, 
 under plausible pretexts. There were kinsmen of the 
 Ionian stock, the inhabitants of Leontini, whom it was 
 only right to protect from the oppression of their 
 
 IfT 
 
198 THE FATAL FXPEDITION. 
 
 Dorian neighbours at Syracuse. There was the pos- 
 sible danger, which it was merely prudence to anti- 
 cipate, of a great Dorian League, in which the wealthy 
 and populous cities of Sicily would give a preponderating 
 power to the enemies of Athens. These and other 
 similar arguments were urged by the war party, 
 and by none more emphatically than by Alcibiades. 
 Nicias, the representative of the propertied and con- 
 servative classes, strongly advocated abstention from 
 Sicilian affairs, and a general avoidance of all entan- 
 glements abroad. Outvoted in the Assembly, he con- 
 ceived the idea of alarming the people by the magnitude 
 of his demands, and estimated the necessary number 
 of ships and men at a figure so high as would, he 
 thought, terrify the supporters of the expedition. 
 This hope was disappointed. His estimates were 
 received with enthusiasm, and Nicias found himself 
 committed to a scheme which engaged the whole 
 available strength of the city. He and Alcibiades 
 were made joint commanders, a third general, Lamachus, 
 who had a high reputation for courage, being asso- 
 ciated with them. 
 
 It was about Midsummer in the year 415 B.C. 
 when the great armament set out. There were on(^ 
 hundred ships of war, sixty of them being fitted for 
 action, while forty were to be used as transports 
 for troops. The number of citizen heavy-armed 
 soJ'^ers was two thousand two hundred, one thousand 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 199 
 
 five hundred of these being taken from the select roll, 
 and representing the very flower of Athenian manhood. 
 The remaining seven hundred were of the poorer 
 class, whose accoutrement was supplied by the State. 
 These served, for the most part, as marines. The 
 number was swelled to nearly five thousand by con- 
 tingents from Mantinea and Argos, troops who seem 
 to have been mercenaries rather than allies. 
 
 This was an imposing force, but the effect was 
 increased by the splendour with which it had been 
 equipped. The ships of war were furnished by 
 private citizens of the wealthier class, who were 
 specially taxed for this purpose. Commonly content, 
 we may suppose, with satisfying legal requirements, 
 they now vied with each other in the costliness of 
 their preparations, hiring the most efficient rowers 
 at their private expense, and covering the vessels them- 
 selves with the richest ornaments. The sight at- 
 tracte'd, not only the whole population of the city, which 
 flocked to the harbour in numbers which reminded 
 aged spectators of the migration to Salamis sixty-five 
 years before, but strangers from all parts of Greece. 
 
 The farewells ended and in these there must have 
 mingled, with all the pride and hope of the day, 
 some whispers of misgiving a trumpet was blown to 
 give the signal for silence. A herald stood forth, 
 and uttered a prayer for success. In this all the 
 crews and the multitude on shore joined with one 
 
200 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 voice. Then all sang the Paean together, and the 
 PsBan ended, libations were poured out from goblets 
 of gold and silver. These ceremonies completed, the 
 fleet started, the swift galleys racing as far as ^Egina. 
 
 The first point to be reached was Corcyra, where 
 the meeting-place for the contingents from allied and 
 subject states had been fixed. The strength of the 
 armament was materially increased by these addi- 
 tions. There were now five thousand one hundred 
 heavy-armed, one thousand five hundred and eighty 
 light-armed troops (one hundred and twenty of these 
 being exiles belonging to the democratic party of 
 Megara, and seven hundred slingers from Rhodes). 
 The cavalry could hardly have numbered more than 
 twenty or thirty, for a single transport sufficed for 
 them. The fleet was increased by thirty-seven ships. 
 Five hundred vessels, laden with stores, implements 
 of war, and artisans of various kinds, accompanied 
 the expedition ; these vessels were hired by the state ; 
 a number, not stated, chartered by private adventurers, 
 still further increased the vast array. 
 
 From Corcyra the fleet crossed to the promontory, 
 of lapyx in Apulia, the most easterly point of Italy. 
 The Greek cities on the coast, even Thurii, though 
 owing its foundation in a great measure to Athens, 
 showed no friendly temper. They not only shut 
 their gates against the new-comers, but refused to 
 allow them to purchase provisions. At some places 
 
ALCIBIADES. 
 
 From a Bust in the Chiaramonti Museum in the 
 Vatican. 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 201 
 
 the fleet was not allowed to water. Rhegium, an 
 Ionian colony, allowed the accommodation of a market 
 and a convenient place for an encampment, but was 
 not hospitable enough to open its gates. 
 
 At Rhegium the Atlienians made a stay of con- 
 siderable length. They wanted to clean the bottoms 
 of their ships a ship could not move at full speed 
 unless this was done and they had also some im- 
 portant business to transact. Among the inducements 
 that had been used to persuade the Assembly to vote 
 the expedition was a promise of a large sum of 
 money from the town of Egesta towards the pay of 
 the fleet. The Egestaeans, who were of an Italian 
 stock, had quarrelled with their Greek neighbours 
 of Selinus, had been worsted in the war wliich 
 followed, and hoped to repair their losses by the 
 help of Athens. It was now found that they had 
 practised a gross deception. Jars, that had been 
 described as full of coin, were found to contain no- 
 thing but base metal or stones with a thin layer of 
 precious metals at top. The rich gold and silver plate 
 with which the Athenian envoys had been greatly 
 impressed for envoys had actually been sent to 
 examine into the resources of the town had been 
 carried, it was discovered, from house to house. In 
 fact, the thirty talents of silver* which the Eges- 
 
 * About 7000. 
 
202 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 taean ambassadors had brought as an earnest of a 
 much larger sum to follow, were found to be all that 
 could be expected from this source. 
 
 This appointment gave Nicias the opportunity for 
 which he had been looking. "Sail to Egesta," he 
 said to his colleagues, " demand their promised con- 
 tribution; when they fail, as fail they must, to pro- 
 duce it, make as good terms as possible for them 
 with Selinus, and then return home without running 
 any more risk, or spending any more money." 
 
 Alcibiades was opposed to this timorous policy, as 
 he called it. His advice was to make alliance with 
 the other Greek cities in Sicily all of them jealous 
 of Syracuse and with the native inhabitants of the 
 interior. Having secured all available help, they 
 should then, he thought, proceed to attack Syracuse 
 and Selinus. 
 
 Lamachus advocated a bolder course to attack 
 Syracuse at once, before their preparations for defence 
 were complete. If his advice had been taken, the ex- 
 pedition might, it is quite possible, have had a dif- 
 ferent result. He was overruled, and finding that 
 he could not have his own way, gave in his adhesion 
 to the plan of Alcibiades. 
 
 The latter at once set about carrying his scheme 
 into execution. He presented himself at Messana in 
 the hope of bringing the city over. He was ad- 
 mitted within the walls and allowed to address the 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 203 
 
 assembly, but could not persuade the people to follow 
 his advice. From Messana he went to Naxos, escorted 
 by an imposing fleet. Naxos gave in its adhesion. 
 At Catana, the next place visited, he was refused 
 admittance. The next thing was to make a formal 
 demand on Syracuse to restore their town to the 
 people of Leoiithii. This was done by a herald from 
 the deck of a ship, one of a squadron of ten which 
 entered the Great Harbour of Syracuse for the pur- 
 pose, and at the same time to make observations on 
 the sea-defences of the city. 
 
 From Syracuse the generals returned to Catana. 
 Here a lucky accident gave them what had been 
 before refused. While Alcibiades was addressing the 
 assembly, some Athenian soldiers broke open a gate 
 which happened to be insufficiently guarded, and 
 made their way into the market-place. Their pres- 
 ence was a practical argument to which no answer 
 was possible. The Opposition were quite satisfied 
 with making their escape from the town, and Catana 
 became an ally of Athens. 
 
 A few days after, a fatal blow for such it proved 
 to be was dealt to the undertaking. For causes 
 which must be sought by the reader elsewere, Al- 
 cibiades was recalled. Afraid to return to Athens, 
 he fled to Sparta, and did his utmost to harm his 
 country. It is possible, even probable, that he made 
 a great mistake when he opposed the bold policy of 
 
204 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 Lamachus; but he made no mistakes when he ranged 
 himself among the enemies of his country. His policy 
 was supremely .able and supremely mischievous. 
 
 Soon after his departure a small success was 
 achieved in the capture of the little town of Hikkara, 
 inhabited by one of the native tribes. The prisoners 
 were sold or ransomed for one hundred and twenty 
 talents. The money doubtless was useful, but it may 
 have cost the captors dearly if this act alienated the 
 native tribes. 
 
 Three months had now passed since the arrival of 
 the armament in Sicily, and next to nothing had 
 been done. The soldiers were growing weary and 
 dispirited ; the Syracusans, on the other hand, who 
 had at first been terrified by the magnitude of the 
 invading force, were daily gaining confidence, and 
 were even beginning to despise the enemy. " Are 
 you going to stay here as peaceful settlers ? " their 
 troopers would ask, as they rode up to the Athenian 
 lines, "or are you going to restore the Leontines?" 
 Nicias, compelled to take some action by the dissa- 
 tisfaction of his own men, conceived an ingenious plan, by 
 which he could turn the careless temper of the 
 Syracusans to his own advantage, and was lucky 
 enough to find a man who was admirably qualified 
 to help in carrying it out. This was a native of 
 Catana, really an Athenian partisan, but one who 
 concealed his views so carefully that he was liked 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 205 
 
 and trusted by the other side. This man made his 
 way into Syracuse, and gave to the authorities some 
 information which seemed to make a successful coup 
 of easy accomplishment. (It is curious to see how 
 the grossest treachery is accepted as a matter of 
 course in a political partisan. An aristocrat was 
 always supposed to be ready to betray his country 
 if he could damage the Athenians thereby, a democrat 
 to do the same, if he could serve them.) The man 
 declared that many of the Athenian soldiers were 
 in the habit of passing the night within the walls 
 of Catana. It would be easy therefore to take them 
 at a disadvantage by delivering a vigorous attack at 
 day-break. The Syracusan party in Catana would 
 assist by closing the gates, attacking the Athenians, 
 and setting fire to the ships. The Syracusan generals 
 eagerly caught at the chance, and making a levy 
 en masse, marched to a spot about eight miles from 
 Catana. * Nicias put his whole available force on 
 shipboard the very same day, and reaching the Great 
 Harbour, which, it should be explained, lay to the 
 south of Syracuse, at daybreak, landed his force 
 without opposition. The spot chosen was the southern 
 bank of the river Anapus. His left wing was 
 protected by a steep hill crowned by a temple of 
 Olympian Zeus and named the Olympieion, his right 
 
 * Catana was about 35 Miles N. of Syracuse. 
 
206 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 by the sea, his rear by the houses, walls, etc., of a 
 little hamlet and by a fence which he hastily 
 constructed; a bridge, which crossed the Anapus at 
 a little distance from the sea, was broken down. 
 His ships were guarded by a palisade. The Syra- 
 cusans, discovering that they had been deceived, 
 hurried back with all speed, and, wearied though they 
 were by their long march, offered battle. This, Nicias 
 declined for the time. The next morning, however, 
 he left his camp and moved to meet the Syracusan 
 army, which was now, it seems, on the south side 
 of the Anapus. He disposed his troops in two lines, 
 each eight deep, the second being held in reserve. 
 The right wing was occupied by the mercenaries 
 from Argos and Mantinea ; the Athenians were in the 
 centre ; the other allies on the right. The Syracusan 
 army was probably far more numerous, for it con- 
 tained the whole of the able-bodied population, and 
 had been reinforced by allies from Selinus, Gela, and 
 Camarina. It was especially strong in its cavalry, 
 which numbered twelve hundred. But it was ill- 
 disciplined and unaccustomed to concerted movements. 
 On this occasion the troops were fatigued, and many, 
 availing themselves of the license taken by citizen 
 soldiers, had gone to their own houses for rest and 
 refreshment. 
 
 Nicias led on his troops to the attack at a brisk 
 pace, a movement which had decided the issue of the 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 207 
 
 day at Marathon, and was again to prove successful. 
 The Syracusans though taken by surprise and un- 
 prepared so vigorous an initiative on the part 
 of the Athenians was wholly unexpected made a 
 stout resistance. It was not till a sudden storm of 
 ram, accompanied by thunder and lightning, discour- 
 aged them the unpractised Syracusans regarded it 
 as an unfavourable portent, the veteran Athenians 
 as a common incident of the season that they 
 began tc give way. The Argives and Mantineans 
 were the first to drive back the troops opposed to 
 them, and the Athenians soon followed their example. 
 The whole line now broke into a retreat. But the 
 Athenians did not venture on a pursuit, which, indeed, 
 was impossible in the face of the powerful cavalry 
 force of the Syracusans. They contented themselves 
 with encamping on the field of battle. The Syracus- 
 ans were so little discomfited by their defeat that 
 they posted a strong guard in the Olympieion, where 
 there was* a very rich treasury. Nicias, whether from 
 caution or from a religious scruple and he was 
 scrupulous to a degree did not attempt to plunder 
 the shrine. The next day he gave back to the enemy 
 their dead (numbering two hundred and fifty) and paid 
 the last honours to his own, of whom there were fifty. 
 No further operations were attempted. The same 
 day the Athenians returned to Catana. Afterwards 
 they went to Naxos, where they had determined to 
 
208 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 spend the winter. A Sicilian winter would not, indeed, 
 seem a bad season for campaigning to a soldier of 
 the present day, very likely he would prefer it to the 
 sultry summer. But the practice of suspending active 
 operations during the cold season was too firmly 
 established to be disturbed. And it must be remem- 
 bered that a Greek army was so ill provided with many 
 necessaries of life that continuous campaigning was 
 scarcely possible. Nicias utilized the time by sending 
 home for a force of cavalry without which it would 
 be impossible, he said, to prosecute hostilities and 
 for a further supply of money. The Syracusans, on 
 the other hand, built a new wall, which would 
 materially increase the difficulties of the invading 
 force when it should attempt to invest the city. 
 Beginning at the Great Harbour on the south, it 
 reached northward to the sea north of the town. 
 Their including the whole of the city, made it neces- 
 sary for a besieger to make his circumvallating wall 
 of much larger dimensions. The deserted town of 
 Megara to the north of the city was also fortified, 
 as was the Olympieion, already mentioned, on the 
 south. All spots in the Great Harbour and elsewhere 
 where landing was easy were protected by stakes. 
 It is clear that on the whole the position of affairs, 
 nine months after the opening of the campaign, had 
 become less favourable to the invading force. 
 But the most powerful factor in the situation has 
 
THB FATAL EXPEDITIOK. 209 
 
 yet to be mentioned. Neither the inaction of the 
 Athenian generals, nor the energy of the Syracusans, 
 contributed so much to bring about the final result 
 as did the influence of Alcibiades. He had taken 
 refuge in Sparta, and he was now doing his utmost 
 to counteract the efforts of his country. He was in 
 the secret of her plans ; he was aware of her weak- 
 nesses; he had the means of detecting the intrigues 
 which her partisans in various cities, Sicilian and 
 others, were contriving. All this knowledge he used 
 with the utmost cleverness, and without a vestige of 
 scruple. 
 
 PART n. 
 
 THB SECOND CAMPAIGN (414). 
 
 Very early in the spring the Athenian forces were 
 in motion. Their operations were of little importance, 
 but they kept the troops in activity and so far were 
 useful. In March two hundred and fifty cavalry 
 arrived from Athens they were to be horsed in 
 Sicily and thirty mounted archers. Three hundred 
 and more troops of the same arm were raised among the 
 Sicilian allies. Nicias consequently could now muster 
 more than six hundred cavalry, and he lost no more 
 time in setting seriously about the work of investing 
 Syracuse. 
 
 The Syracusans had done something during the winter 
 
 14 
 
210 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 to increase the difficulty of his work; they now took 
 another step in the same direction. North-west of 
 the city was a tract of high ground, called EpipolsB 
 (the word may be translated by the English " Overton "). 
 This they attempted to occupy. But it was too 
 late. The Athenians had cast their eyes on the spot, 
 and they were beforehand with their antagonists. 
 They had actually reached the coveted ground, 
 approaching it from the north, when a chosen force 
 of six hundred Syracusans came hurrying up from 
 the meadows of the Anapus, where the city forces 
 were being reviewed. The new-comers were in 
 disorder and out of breath they had just accom- 
 plished a march of three miles at the double and 
 were easily routed with the loss of their leader and 
 half their number. The Athenians built a fort at 
 Labdalon, the highest point of the cliffs of Epipolae 
 on the north. This they followed up by building 
 another redoubt, at the top of the slope which descended 
 towards the city. This was to serve as a store for 
 munitions of war and for a meeting point for the 
 two lines of circumvallation, one of which was to 
 touch the Great Harbour, the other the Outer Sea, 
 This done they set about building the walls them- 
 selves, and carried on this work with a speed which 
 struck terror into the Syracusans. An attempt of 
 the latter to check the work by a general attack 
 had to be abandoned. The infantry refused to 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 211 
 
 meet the Athenians heavy-armed, and had to he led 
 back into the city. The cavalry was, for a time, 
 more successful, and interfered seriously with the 
 work. But they, too, were worsted in an encounter 
 with a detachment of Athenian infantry, supported 
 by the whole of the mounted force. 
 
 The next effort of the besieged was to build a 
 counter-wall, which would cut off the Athenian line 
 at a point between the second redoubt and the Great 
 Harbour. This also failed. The Athenians took the 
 opportunity of a time the hour of the mid-day 
 meal when the new erection was indifferently guarded. 
 (The citizen soldiers, it will be observed, were again 
 found wanting in vigilance and energy.) A detach- 
 ment was told off to attack it, while the main body 
 of the army supported the movement by threatening 
 the city. The manoeuvre was completely successful. 
 The assailants got possession of the work and 
 entirely destroyed it, carrying off the materials for 
 their own lines. 
 
 The same attempt wa? repeated still further 
 south, in the low ground that bordered the Great 
 Harbour. But an accident turned what was in other 
 respects a considerable victory, into a deplorable 
 disaster. The battle had been won, but in the ardour 
 of pursuit some Athenian troops got into trouble. 
 Lamachus came to their assistance, at the head of a 
 body of archers and of the Argive infantry. With 
 
212 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 characteristic courage he pressed on in advance ol 
 his men, was cut off from the main body and slain. 
 His death left Nicias in sole command. 
 
 While this was going on, some of the Syracusan 
 fugitives had rallied and made an attack on the 
 Athenian lines, near the second redoubt. By a happy 
 chance Nicias, who was suffering from illness, was 
 there in person. Some mischief was done; but the 
 assault was checked by the general's presence of 
 mind. He ordered a huge quantity of timber, which 
 had been collected on the spot, to be fired. The 
 enemy could not approach for a time, and before 
 another attack could be delivered, strong reinforce- 
 ments came up. The same day the Athenian fleet 
 entered the Great Harbour, and the Syracusans 
 retired within their city walls. They made no more 
 attempts to interfere with the circumvallation; their 
 utmost hope was to hold out in the City. 
 
 The prospects of the Athenians, on the other hand, 
 were bright in the extreme. They had shown again 
 and again a decisive superiority in the field. On the 
 sea there had not been even an attempt at resistance. 
 Their lines were within a measurable distance of 
 completion. That done, the capture of Syracuse was 
 only a matter of time. These prospects of success 
 brought them new friends and allies. The native 
 tribes were now almost united in their support of 
 him. The Greek cities of Italy, with one or two 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 218 
 
 exceptions, among which Tarentum, a Spartan colony, 
 was conspicuous, furnished his army with an abun- 
 dance of supplies. Three vessels of war from some 
 town on the coast of Etruria, offered their services. 
 This time, which may be fixed as June, 414, was 
 the culminating point of the Athenian fortunes. After 
 this everything began to changes for the worse. 
 
 Alcibiades had urged at Sparta the necessity of 
 appointing a Spartan officer to command the Syra- 
 cusan forces, and Gylippus had been named to the 
 post. This officer had been busy since the winter, 
 in getting together a force for the relief of Syracuse, 
 but had met with but little success. Corinth, the 
 enemy of Athens in politics and her rival in trade, 
 was most energetic in supporting him, and even 
 Corinth did very little. He was still waiting when 
 news of the Athenian victory, in which Lamachus 
 had fallen, reached Mainland Greece. The news was 
 exaggerated. Syracuse, so the report ran, was now 
 completely invested, and could not be saved. Gy- 
 lippus, however, resolved to start. Though Syracuse 
 might be lost, it was still possible to save the 
 Dorian Greeks of Italy, who would be the next object 
 of Athenian ambition. He set sail with four ships, 
 two furnished by Sparta, two from Corinth. A 
 squadron of fifteen more was to follow as speedily 
 as possible He reached Tarentum in safety, attempted 
 in vain to bring over Thurii to his cause, and after 
 
214 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 visiting some other Greek cities on the coast, was 
 driven back to Tarentum by bad weather. 
 
 Nicias had, of course, been informed by Athenian 
 partisans in Thurii of the arrival of Gylippus, but 
 took no steps in consequence, looking upon him as 
 an insignificant adventurer. But when he heard of 
 the Spartan's presence at Locri, a town much nearer 
 to Sicily, he thought it time to act, and sent out a 
 squadron of four ships to intercept the new-comer. 
 It was too late. Gylippus had already landed in the 
 island. In a few days he was at the head of a 
 considerable force. He took seven hundred men from 
 his ships. Himera, the town where he landed, furni- 
 shed him with some troops. Other Sicilians, attracted 
 by his reputation as a Spartan and by his character 
 as an adventurous leader, joined his standard. He 
 had altogether about three thousand men. The invest- 
 ing lines had not yet reached completion, though they 
 were within a short distance of it. But even without 
 them Gylippus might have been easily prevented from 
 making his way into the city. He had to cross 
 Epipolae, and the approach to this high ground could 
 be conveniently made by one road only, which the 
 besiegers could easily have secured. With incredible 
 supineness, Nicias allowed this formidable adversary 
 to collect his army, to march nearly across the island,* 
 
 * Himera (now the modern Termini) where Gylippus had 
 marshalled his force, was more than a hundred miles from Syracuse. 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 215 
 
 and to make his way into the city without any attempt 
 to hinder him. The blockading ships were equally 
 remiss. They failed to intercept either the single ship 
 which brought the Corinthian admiral Gongylus, or the 
 squadron of twelve ships which soon afterwards followed. 
 
 Gylippus was met by a Syracusan force as he 
 approached the city over Epipolae. Without entering 
 the city, he turned and offered battle to Nicias. It 
 is true that with a soldier's eye he noted the irregu- 
 larity of the citizen soldiers, and retired to a 
 more protected situation, but Nicias did not venture 
 to follow him, and the result of the day was to 
 make a most important change in the situation of 
 the combatants. The Spartan general had expressed 
 this fact with emphasis on the day when, immediately 
 on his arrival, he had sent a herald to Nicias with 
 the offer of a five days' truce, if he would evacuate 
 the island within that time. 
 
 Another effort, successful this time, was made to 
 build a cross wall, cutting off the lines of investment. 
 At first, indeed, Gylippus, who had chosen his ground 
 badly, where he could not use either cavalry or his 
 light troops, was defeated. In a second encounter he 
 gained a decided victory. The Athenians were driven 
 within their lines; the cross wall was completed. 
 From that moment the capture of Syracuse by land 
 was impossible. 
 
 With this the operations of the second campaign 
 
216 THB FATAL EXPEDITIOir. 
 
 were practically concluded. The Athenian army held 
 its ground without difficulty; for it was still strong, 
 and it was well posted, but it could not assume the 
 offensive. The fleet was sadly depreciated in quality 
 Many of the rowers, most of whom were slaves, had 
 deserted; the crews generally were weakened by 
 desertion. And there had been, of course, the wear 
 and tear of a year and a half's campaigning. Nicias 
 told the truth to his countrymen in a letter of which 
 Thucydides has preserved what is probably a verbatim 
 copy. I shall now give a summary of it. 
 
 What has happened in the past, men of Athens, 
 I have described in many letters ; but now I would 
 have you know how things stand with us. After we 
 had defeated the Syracusans in many battles, and 
 had built the walls within which we now lie, Gylippus 
 the Spartan came against us, bringing an army which 
 he had gathered in the Peloponnesus and in certain 
 cities of Sicily. In the first battle he was beaten 
 by ns, in the second we were driven from the field 
 by help of his cavaliy and dart-ihrowers. And now 
 we have ceased to work at our lines of investment, 
 for the enemy are superior in numbers ; many also 
 of our men are taken up in guarding our walls; 
 also the enemy have carried a wall past us, and 
 unless we can take this by a superior force, we shall 
 not be able to invest the city. Rather, we who thought 
 to besiege are ourselves besieged. 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 217 
 
 "Even now they are gathering together a yet 
 larger army, wherewith to storm our walls, while 
 they also attack us by sea. Let no one think it 
 strange that I say *by sea.' At first, indeed, our 
 fleet was in excellent condition ; the ships were sound, 
 and the crews complete ; now, because they have 
 been long at sea, the ships are leaky and the crews 
 are decayed. The ships we have not been able to 
 draw up on the shore and careen, for the fleet of 
 the enemy practises daily in our sight and can attack 
 us at their pleasure. As for our crews, many of the 
 seamen, while fetching wood, or foraging, or watering 
 at a distance, have been cut off by the horsemen; 
 our slaves have deserted, our enemies being as well 
 off as ourselves ; the foreigners whom we have pressed 
 into our service have gone back to their cities, while 
 they who joined us, persuaded by the high pay and 
 thinking that they should grow rich rather than fight, 
 now that they see our adversaries to be as strong 
 as ourselves, either go over to the enemy, or leave 
 us in some other way. Some have bribed the cap- 
 tains to take slaves from Hykkara in their places. 
 You know that a crew is at its best but for a 
 short time, and that there are but few who will get 
 a ship under weigh, or row in time. I cannot stop 
 these misdoings, nor can I find recruits. Our allies 
 are of no avail. And if the Syracusans gain one 
 thing more, and prevail upon the Italus cities, which 
 
218 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 have provisioned us, to send us food no longer, verily 
 they will conquer us without so much as fighting, 
 for we shall be starved out. 
 
 I might have written to you more agreeable things, 
 but not more useful, as you ought to know the true 
 state of affairs before you deliberate upon them. 
 Your temper is always to demand statements that 
 please at the time, and afterwards to be angry if the 
 result is other than what you wish. Therefore I 
 have judged it best to tell the truth. 
 
 * For the purpose for which you sent us hither 
 neither the army nor the generals were inadequate. 
 But the circumstances are changed. All Sicily is 
 banded against us, and an army is coming from the 
 Peloponnesus. You must either recall your troops, 
 or send another armament as large to reinforce 
 them, both men and ships. And send someone to 
 be general in my place, for I am suffering from a 
 grievous disease, which forbids my remaining at my 
 post. This consideration I may claim at your hands, 
 for while I had health and strength I expended 
 them in your service. And whatever you do, do it 
 without delay in the very beginning of spring." 
 
 Thucydides does not tell of the temper with 
 which this letter was received at Athens. That it 
 caused a bitter disappointment we cannot doubt; 
 but the people did not go back from their resolution. 
 When they had staked so much they would stake 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 219 
 
 still more. The request of Nicias, that he should be 
 relieved of his command, was refused, but colleagues 
 were appointed to share this responsibility. Two of 
 these were officers on the spot, two were at Athens. 
 One of the latter sailed at mid-winter, with ten 
 ships and a considerable sum of money. He was 
 to reassure his countrymen with the promise that 
 liberal help would be sent. 
 
 PARTm. 
 
 THE THIRD CAMPAIGN. 
 
 Both Sides were busy during the winter, preparing 
 for the final struggle. Early in the spring operations 
 were commenced by the Syracusans, who were now 
 confident enough to assume the offensive. At the 
 suggestion of Gylippus, who was strongly backed by 
 some influential Syracusans, an attack by sea was 
 resolved upon. The Athenians, it was thought, would 
 be dismayed by being thus challenged on what they 
 considered to be their own element. Eighty ships, 
 accordingly, were manned, thirty-five of them sailing 
 from the Great Harbour, and forty-five from the other. 
 The Athenians hastily manned sixty to meet them, 
 dividing them in similar proportions. The hostile 
 fleet met at the mouth of the Great Harbour. At 
 first the Syracusans more than held their own in 
 
220 THE FATAL EXPEDITIOX. 
 
 the fierce struggle that ensued, actually forcing their 
 way through the Athenian line. After this their 
 want of practice in naval tactics told fatally against 
 them. They lost all order, and even got entangled 
 with each other. 
 
 In the end the Athenians sank eleven ships, captur- 
 ing the crews of three and killing most of the others. 
 Three of their own ships were sunk. 
 
 But this success was more than counterbalanced 
 by a disaster on land. Nicias had erected three forts 
 on Plemmyrium, the southern headland of the Great 
 Harbour. It was against these, more than against 
 the fleet, that Gylippus directed the blow that he 
 meant to strike that day. He had marched out with 
 the whole available force of the city the night before, 
 taking the route over Epipolse and making a wide com- 
 pass which brought him out in the rear of the Plem- 
 myrium forts. The Athenian generals, who must have 
 been very badly served by their intelligence depart- 
 ment, had no notion of what was going on. The 
 garrison of the forts were equally off their guard. 
 Many of them actually left their posts to watch the 
 fight that was going in the Great Harbour. The 
 largest fort was carried after a short struggle, the 
 other two were evacuated by their garrisons when 
 th(5 first fell. Nothing contributed more, says Thucy- 
 dides, to the disastrous end of the Sicilian expedition 
 than the capture of these forts. Apart from the 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 221 
 
 number of the killed and prisoners, and this was 
 considerable, there was the loss of a large quantity 
 of stores, among them the masts and other equipments 
 of forty ships of war. Thenceforward, also, the 
 provisioning of the army became more and more 
 difficult. The Syracusans did not, indeed, hold the 
 command of 'the sea, but they disputed it. Nothing 
 could be brought into the Great Harbour and it 
 was by this way that all the provisions came with- 
 out a battle, and a battle now was far less likely to 
 end in an Athenian victory than it had been in the 
 first or even the second campaign. 
 
 This fact was, we may be sure, not unobserved 
 by the Sicilian cities, and it decided the action of 
 some that had hitherto stood aloof from the contest. 
 A force of between two and three thousand men was 
 raised, and set out for Syracuse. Nicias, however, 
 was less sanguine than he had been when Gylippus 
 was doing the same thing in the previous campaign. 
 He induced his native allies to lay an ambuscade. 
 The allied troops fell into it and suffered the loss 
 of about two fifths of their number. 
 
 This was a gleam of light in the Athenian pros- 
 pects. Another, was the approach of Demosthenes 
 with his reinforcements. Gylippus determined to 
 strike a blow before the new forces arrived. An 
 experienced Corinthian seaman had suggested an 
 alteration in the structure of the ships of war, which 
 
222 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 would give them a greater ramming power. The 
 beak was to be made shorter and stronger and to 
 be put lower in the water. This alteration would 
 not have served any useful purpose but for the circum- 
 stances under which the fighting would be carried on. 
 The Athenian captain relied on the skill with which 
 they manoeuvred their ships. They never met an 
 antagonist beak to beak, but rammed it somewhere 
 on the side. This, however, could not be done except 
 where there was room to move freely, and such room 
 the Athenians could not command. They were re- 
 duced, in short, to a trial of sheer strength, and in 
 strength this change of structure put them at a 
 disadvantage. Now were they able to meet the danger 
 by a corresponding change in their own ships. They 
 had neither sufficient materials nor the opportunity 
 of making use of what they had. 
 
 Thus prepared, the fleet sailed out of the docks, while 
 at the same time the land forces threatened the Athenian 
 lines. On the first day little was done, though 
 whatever advantage there was rested with the Syra- 
 cusans. It would have been prudent if the Athenians 
 had declined any further engagement, at least till 
 the expected reinforcements had arrived, and this, 
 indeed, was the counsel of Nicias. He was overruled 
 by his colleagues, and when, after an interval of a 
 day, the Syracusan fleet reappeared, the Athenian 
 fleet moved out to meet them. During the morning 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 223 
 
 little was done, and as the enemy withdrew at noon, 
 the Athenians supposed that the fighting for the day 
 was over, and separated to take their meal as usual, 
 on shore. While they were so engaged, the enemy's 
 fleet reappeared, and they hastily manned their own 
 ships. More indecisive skirmishing followed, till the 
 Athenian captains were provoked into assuming the 
 offensive. This was what their antagonists had been 
 expecting. The heavier metal and superior ramming 
 powers of the Syracusan ships were brought into 
 play, and the Athenian fleet suffered severely. Nicias, 
 who, supine as he certainly was, was nevertheless 
 a man of resources, had anchored a number of merchant- 
 men in front of the station of his ships of war, and 
 had furnished them with an apparatus, for letting down 
 a heavy weight on any enemy that might attempt to 
 pass between them. The Athenian ships were thus 
 protected in their retreat. Two of the victorious fleet 
 that attempted to follow them were sunk. Seven 
 ships, however, were sunk and many more disabled. 
 The besieged were now preparing for a general 
 attack, which would complete, it was hoped, the 
 destruction of the invaders, when once again the 
 destruction was changed. Demosthenes entered the 
 Great Harbour with a force little, if at all, inferior 
 to that which had appeared before Syracuse, at the 
 beginning of the first campaign. He had seventy-three 
 ships of war, five thousand heavy-armed, and a mul- 
 
224 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 titude of light troops. The Syracusans were struck 
 with astonishment and dismay. It seemed as if they 
 would have to do all their work again. 
 
 Demosthenes, on the other hand, was but ill pleased 
 with what he found an army sadly reduced in 
 number, suffering in health, and dispirited. He saw that 
 immediate action was absolutely necessary. Before 
 his own strength was impaired, and before the enemy 
 had recovered from the depression caused by his 
 arrival, a general attack must be made. If this was 
 successful, Syracuse might even yet be taken; if it 
 failed, there was nothing left but to return home, 
 before further losses had been incurred. 
 
 His first thought was to take the Syracusan works 
 by storm. He made an effort and failed. The defence 
 was too vigorous. The alternative was to turn them, 
 and this he proceeded to attempt. He chose a moon- 
 light night, for it was necessary that the movement 
 should be a surprise, and arrived, without exciting 
 the attentions of the enemy, at the highest point of 
 Epipolae. The fort that protected the extremity of 
 the cross wall built by the Syracusans, fell into his 
 hands, a Syracusan regiment that hastened up to 
 the rescue was driven back; even the main body, 
 when it hurried out under the personal command of 
 Gylippus, was compelled to retreat. The conquerors 
 began to pull down the cross wall, an operation of 
 extreme importance. If they had contented themselves 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 225 
 
 with this, all might have been well. But the excite- 
 ment of the success carried both the generals and 
 their troops away. They pursued the flying Syracu- 
 sans in such haste as to fall into disorder. In this 
 state they encountered a solid force of Boeotian 
 infantry, which had taken no part in the battle. The 
 Boeotian troops were of the very best quality. In 
 all the course of Greek history they were but once 
 only ably led.* but they showed several times of 
 what quality they were. And now they turned the 
 fortunes of the day. The victorious Athenians were, 
 in their turn, beaten. The usual consequences of an 
 unsuccessful night-attack followed. Friends and foes 
 could not be distinguished. The watchwords became 
 known, and ceased to be of any use. The Dorian 
 allies of the Athenians, many of them new-comers and 
 personally unknown to their fellow-soldiers, were, in 
 particular, mistaken for foes. Their war-cry or paean 
 was the same as the Syracusans, and so became a 
 special cause of confusion, striking terror into the 
 Athenians, who fancied, when they heard it, that 
 they had enemies in their midst and in their rear. 
 There was soon a general flight. The narrow road 
 that led from Epipolae to the Athenian camp was so 
 crowded with fugitives as to become impassable. 
 Many of the terror-stricken soldiers tried to climb 
 down the cliffs, and perished in the attempt. Others 
 * By Epaminondas and Pelopidas. 
 
 15 
 
226 THP FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 who contrived to get safely to the bottojn, lost their 
 way, especially the new-comers, and were cut down 
 by the cavalry. The loss of the army was between 
 two and three thousand men. 
 
 Demosthenes now urged immediate departure. 
 It was clearly impossible, he said, to capture Syra- 
 cuse. The best thing that could be done was to 
 save as much of the armament as possible. All 
 were greatly wanted at home, where Attica had 
 been again invaded and ravaged by a Peloponnesian 
 force. Retreat, too, for the present was possible. 
 The new ships, brought by Demosthenes, had restored 
 their naval superiority. Nicias vehemently opposed 
 the proposition. Whatever his arguments were, his 
 real motive is plain. He was simply afraid to return 
 to Athens, when he had such an utter failure to 
 confess. Two of his colleagues (the two associated 
 with him in the command before the arrival of the 
 reinforcements) voted with him, and Demosthenes 
 had to yield. 
 
 Failing absolute retreat, Demosthenes urged depar- 
 ture from the position occupied in the Great Harbour 
 to Catana or Thapsus, Nicias again opposed, and 
 was again supported in his decision by a majority 
 of votes. The Athenians remained where they were, 
 doing nothing, but gradually losing both strength 
 and hope. 
 
 About a month later, Gylippus, who had been 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 227 
 
 
 
 absent, recruiting new troops and finding more allies, 
 returned with a considerable force. The sight seems 
 to have convinced even Nicias that retreat was now 
 the only possible course, or, anyhow, overcame liis 
 opposition. Orders were privately circulated through 
 the camp, that the armament was to depart when 
 a certain signal should be given. Everything was 
 prepared, the ships were loaded, the men were ready 
 to depart, when an unexpected cause led to a fresh 
 delay. On the night proceeding the appointed day, 
 the moon was eclipsed. * It has been said that the 
 superstitious temper of Nicias is responsible for this 
 fatal postponement, for fatal it certainly was. This 
 is not fair. Nicias did but express the general 
 feeling of the army, which actually demanded the 
 delay. The prophets declared that the departure 
 must be postponed for a whole lunar month, f 
 
 The intentions, so strangely baffled, did not escape, 
 we may be sure, the knowledge of the Syracusans. 
 They took it for what it actually was, a confession 
 
 The eclipse took place on August 27th, 413. 
 
 t It is curious that the Athenian writer Philochorus (about a 
 century later) declares that the prophets were wrong in their 
 interpretation of the portent. An eclipse ouglit to have been 
 considered a favourable sign, by persons engaged in an under- 
 taking which could be best carried out in secrecy. Philochorus 
 was himself a soothsayer, holding at Athens an office not 
 unlike to that of the augurs at Rome. 
 
228 THE FATAL EXPEDITtOH. 
 
 of defeat, and were made proportionately confident. 
 A few days afterwards Gylippus made a combined 
 demonstration with his fleet and army. The fleet, 
 though inferior in number seventy-six against eighty- 
 six won a complete victory. The centre division 
 was broken through, and the left driven ashore in 
 the Bay of Daskon, a recess in the Great Harbour. 
 The commander, one of the board of five generals, 
 was slain. 
 
 Something like absolute destruction of the arma- 
 ment was averted, or rather postponed, only by an 
 incautious movement on the part of Gylippus. He 
 hurried down with some companies, to prevent the 
 escape of the crews from the stranded ships. But 
 his march was so disorderly that some Etrusean 
 auxiliaries who were guarding the extreme right of 
 the Athenian position fell upon his men as they 
 passed, and drove them with some loss into the 
 marshes that skirted the left bank of the Anapus. 
 Other Syracusan troops came to their help, and the 
 Etruscans were also reinforced from the Athenian 
 lines. The victory rested at last with the latter. 
 They did not inflict much loss on the enemy, but 
 they saved the ships and the crews. 
 
 The Syracusans would not have been content with 
 anything short of the absolute annihilation of the 
 Athenian force. To bring about this result, they 
 proceeded to close the mouth of the Great Harbour, 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 229 
 
 a space of about a mile, the inner city of Syracuse 
 being one end of the line, the promontory of Plem- 
 myrium the other. All kinds of vessels, ships of war, 
 merchantmen, and fishing boats, were strongly bound 
 together by iron chains, while they were kept in 
 their place by anchors. The work was accomplished 
 without any attempt at interruption, as far as we 
 know, on the part of the Athenians. 
 
 The generals had now to choose between two 
 possible chances of escape. Should they endeavour 
 to break through the line of ships, or should they 
 try an overland march, in the hope of reaching the 
 country of the friendly tribes of the interior? Not 
 a few were in favour of the second course. The 
 army had held its own better than the fleet, and a 
 start at least might be made without opposition. 
 On the other hand, if they could only regain the 
 mastery of the sea, their escape was practically 
 assured ; the fleet had only to make for home, carrying 
 all the survivors of the expedition with it. An army, 
 almost without provisions, and encumbered by a 
 multitude of non-combatants, would be almost as 
 helpless after its escape, as before it. The generals 
 accordingly resolved to try what the ships could do. 
 They abandoned the greater part of the investing 
 lines, so as to reduce, as far as possible, the force 
 needed for guarding them, and put every available 
 man on shipboard to serve, either as rower or com- 
 
230 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 batant, while they did the best that their stores 
 permitted to increase the efficiency of their ships. 
 One hundred and ten, in the end, were manned and 
 equipped. Before the crews embarked, Nicias ad- 
 dressed them. He explained the arrangements which 
 had been made, the unusual number of combatants 
 which had been crowded on to the decks, and the 
 grappling irons which were to be freely used as soon 
 as they came to close quarters with the enemy. No 
 appeals were made to the old Athenian reputation 
 for seamanship. The battle to be fought was to be a 
 land-battle on the water. The hope of victory depended 
 upon the resolution of the boarding parties, to make 
 good their footing on the decks of the enemies' ships. 
 To the allies in the first, privileged, as he said, to 
 share the glories of Athens, to the Athenians in the 
 second, heirs as they were of a great empire, now 
 seriously imperilled, Nicias addressed an urgent 
 appeal. Victory would retrieve everything ; defeat 
 meant destruction, both for themselves and their 
 country. 
 
 The address concluded, the crews embarked. But 
 Nicias had yet something to say to the captains. 
 He addressed them one by one, and urged them by 
 every argument, personal or general, that he could 
 think of, to do their duty. 
 
 The Syracusan fleet numbered seventy-six only, 
 but it was well equipped, well manned, and confident. 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 231 
 
 And the whole of it, it must be remembered, was 
 free to assume the offensive. The Athenians had to 
 break the blockadmg line ; their antagonists could 
 assail them as and where they pleased, while they 
 were making the attempt. For a short time the 
 effort to break through seemed as if it might succeed. 
 It would, doubtless, have succeeded, had there been 
 nothing else to do. But the Athenians had to defend 
 themselves from attack from behind, and before long 
 the struggle was transferred from the blockading 
 line, to the area of the Great Harbour The whole 
 of this was the scene of a fierce conflict, fiercer than 
 had ever been fought before in this war, and more 
 crowded nearly two hundred ships, m a space 
 measuring only two miles by one Of manoeuvring, 
 there was but little; even the ram was scarcely used, 
 The battle was a long succession of chance encounters, 
 fought as the generals had foreseen, like a battle on 
 land. As the hostile ships were nearing each other 
 the javelin-men and slingers did their part; when 
 they closed, the heavy-armed attempted to board. 
 Evidently it was a soldiers' battle ; the din and 
 confusion made it impossible even to hear the orders 
 that were given. Victory could but rest with the 
 most vigorous, the freshest, the most confident side. 
 The spectators on shore watched the struggle with 
 an intensity of interest never surpassed. Had it been 
 but a mimic spectacle, it would have been a pro- 
 
232 THE FATAL EXPrDTTTON. 
 
 foundly exciting sight. But those who watched knew 
 that their own life and liberty were at stake, and 
 showed it by their cries, running down all the scale 
 from triumph to despair for the fortune of the day 
 changed from hour to hour, and varied in this place 
 and in that by their very gestures, involuntary ex- 
 pressions of quickly succeeding moods. The conflict 
 was obstinate and long, for the vanquished did not 
 yield till they could fight no more, but it ended in 
 the absolute defeat of the Athenians. Fifty of their 
 ships were disabled, of their adversaries more than 
 half as many. 
 
 This nominal superiority suggested to Demosthenes, 
 the most vigorous and sanguine of the Athenian 
 commanders, that another attempt should be made 
 the next day to break through the line of blockade. 
 The seamen, however, had lost all heart, and flatly 
 refused to go. The alternative was to retreat by 
 land, and this, by common consent, it was resolved 
 to do. It is possible that, if this movement had been 
 executed at once, some advantage might have been 
 gained. The army was still a formidable force, and 
 if it could have escaped from its present position and 
 have reached a place where defence was possible and 
 supplies for the commissariat was the chief difficulty 
 attainable, it could have obtained favourable terms. 
 The Syracusan generals foresaw this possibility, and 
 were anxious at once to occupy positions which 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 283 
 
 would cut off <^ treat. But the soldiers could not 
 be induced to move. The pressure of anxiety was 
 now finally removed, and the people could think of 
 nothing but enjoying themselves. A great festival 
 happened to coincide with the day of victory, and 
 the whole population had abandoned itself to revelry. 
 The generals had, therefore, recourse to the following 
 device : Nicias, as they well knew, had friends within 
 the city who informed him of what was going on. 
 A message, purporting to come from them, was sent 
 to the Athenian camp. It was to the effect that the 
 army had better not attempt a retreat that night, 
 for the roads were guarded. It would be better to 
 postpone it for a day, when the watchfulness of the 
 Syracusan force would be relaxed, while they would 
 themselves be better prepared for the operation. It 
 does not appear that anything, even a forged letter, 
 was used to gain credence for this advice. Some 
 horseman rode up to the Athenian line and shouted 
 out the information, and Nicias, by what seems to us 
 extraordinary siuiplicity or infatuation, believed it. 
 The start was postponed, and that for two days. 
 
 When it took place, the scene, as the historian 
 describes it, was most deplorable. That the dead 
 were left unburied, was shocking to the conscience 
 of a Greek; but it was a still more piteous thing 
 that the sick and wounded had to be abandoned. 
 These poor deserted creatures protested and prayed; 
 
234 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 they clung to departing friends or comrades or kins- 
 folk; some followed the army till their strength 
 failed them. Nothmg could be done to help them; 
 the able-bodied had but the faintest hope of escaping, 
 for it was a cumbrous body, ill suited for rapid 
 movement, like a whole city in flight, as the his- 
 torian puts it. It numbered no less than forty 
 thousand, marching in the form of a hollow square, with 
 the non-combatants and the baggage m the middle. 
 The first obstacle encountered was the river Anapus. 
 Here they found the ford occupied by a hostile force. 
 This, however, was driven back without much loss, 
 and the river was crossed. Five miles only were 
 accomplished on the first day On the second no 
 progress at all was made. The Athenians, indeed, 
 advanced a little over two miles in the morning, 
 but they had to halt to secure some provisions, and 
 the enemy availed themselves of this delay to occupy 
 a narrow pass in the road which, as it had become 
 evident, they intended to take. But the fugitives 
 could not even reach this place. The attacks of the 
 cavalry and the skirmishers were so harassing, that 
 they returned to the camp which they had occupied 
 the night before. The next day, the same hopeless 
 struggle was repeated and with almost the same 
 result. They did not, indeed, return to the camp, 
 but the spot at which they bivouacked was but a 
 rnile in advance of it. 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 235 
 
 The generals now resolved on a change of route. 
 Instead of forcing their way over the high ground 
 which lay between them and the interior, they 
 determined to turn to the southern coast. They 
 might thus strike one or other of two river valleys, 
 by which they might reach the interior still, as being 
 inhabited by friendly native tribes, the point at 
 which they aimed. 
 
 Numerous fires being left burning to deceive the 
 enemy, a start was made during the night. By day- 
 break the front division, which Nicias commanded, 
 had reached the nearer of the two river valleys. 
 By the end of the day he had made some progress, 
 encamping on some high ground on the further side 
 of the second river. 
 
 The division under Demosthenes, comprising as it 
 did the larger and less effective part of the army, 
 was later in starting and even slower in movement, so 
 great were the confusion and panic in its ranks. Soon 
 overtaken by the Syracusans, it was compelled to 
 turn and defend itself. Defence, however, in any 
 real sense of the word, was impossible. The enemy 
 would not come to close quarters, but overwhelmed 
 the unhappy objects of their attack with showers of 
 missiles. Again the division attempted to move 
 onward. They found themselves in a large enclosure, 
 the olive-yard of Polyzelus * as it was called. Egress 
 
 * Polyzelus was a brother of Gelon, tyrant of Syracuse (d. 478). 
 
236 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 from this, at the further end, was blocked, while the 
 walls were covered with slingers and javelin-men, who 
 showered missiles on the helpless mass.* Gylippus, 
 who was in command of the pursuing force, sent a 
 herald, promising liberty to all islanders (natives, i.e. 
 of the islands included in the Delian confederation) who 
 chose to leave the Athenians. Few only responded 
 to this appeal. He then offered their lives to all who 
 would give up their arms. These terms were accepted. 
 Prisoners, to the number of six thousand in all, were 
 disarmed, and taken to Syracuse. Demosthenes was 
 on the point of killing himself, when he was dis- 
 armed. 
 
 Gylippus now followed in pursuit of the division 
 led by Nicias, and overtook it about twelve miles 
 from the point from which it had started. He sent 
 a horseman to inform its commander of the surrender 
 of Demosthenes with his division, and to summon 
 him to follow his example. Nicias, alleging that he 
 could not believe the news, asked leave to send a 
 messenger, who might have it confirmed by the mouth 
 of his colleague. The man went and returned, with 
 the result that Nicias proposed terms of capitulation. 
 Athens should reimburse the Syracusans for all the 
 expenses of the war, and a certain number of Athen- 
 ian citizens should remain as hostage for payment. 
 
 We may compare the position of the division of Demosthenes 
 with that of the French army at Sedan. 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 287 
 
 one man for each talent. Gylippus refused these 
 terms. Early the next morning Nicias recommenced 
 his march. The point at which he now aimed was 
 the ford of the river Asinarus, some five miles further 
 on. The ford, when he reached it, was found to be 
 held in force by the Syracusan cavalry. Here all 
 the discipline of the Athenians broke down. Mad- 
 dened with thirst, for want of water was now added 
 to their sufferings, they rushed into the river and 
 were slaughtered in crowds, while they attempted to 
 quench their thirst. Even when the water grew 
 turbid and tainted with blood, the new-comers still 
 crowded in and di-ank. Nicias could do nothing 
 now but surrender. He gave himself up to Gylippus. 
 He had been, during all his public life, a partisan of 
 Sparta, and he hoped that he should receive from a 
 Spartan general kinder treatment than the Syracusan 
 authorities would be likely to accede to him. It 
 was some time before the slaughter could be stopped. 
 When it was, the survivors, about four thousand in 
 number, were disarmed. The Athenian army had 
 ceased to exist; even a company of three hundred 
 which had got away in the night, was overtaken by 
 the cavalry and compelled to surrender. 
 
 It is difficult to estimate the loss which Athens 
 suffered by this disastrous expedition. It was such 
 as, in the judgment of the historian, no Greek city 
 had ever suffered before. Though no complete division 
 
238 THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 
 
 of the army made good its retreat, some stragglers 
 escaped to Catana, where they found a friendly wel- 
 come, which they were able to return by defending 
 that city against its powerful neighbour, Syracuse. 
 Many of the prisoners captured with Nicias, and 
 some of those who had belonged to the division of 
 Demosthenes, were secreted and sold for the private 
 profit of their captors. Some of these contrived to 
 get away; others were ransomed by their friends. 
 The lot of those who fell into the hands of the 
 Syracusan authorities was more unhappy. They were 
 confined in stone quarries, of which there were 
 several both within and without the walls of the 
 city. Crowded together in these places, exposed to 
 the sun by day and the cold by night it was now 
 autumn with the scanty provision of about half a 
 pint of water and a pound of bread, they endured 
 frightful sufferings. They died in numbers, and the 
 dead bodies were left to rot among the surviving. 
 It was only when the place became an intolerable 
 nuisance, and a serious danger to health, that the 
 survivors were removed. 
 
 Gylippus made an effort to save the captive gen- 
 erals. Demosthenes had inflicted on Sparta the most 
 serious loss that it had suffered, the loss of the 
 prisoners of Sphakteria ; Nicias, as has been said, had 
 always been Sparta's friend. Both, accordingly, though 
 for different reasons, would have been a welcome 
 
EURIPIDES. 
 From a Bust in the Museum at Naples. 
 
THE FATAL EXPEDITION. 239 
 
 sight in the streets of Sparta, if Gylippus had been 
 permitted to take them thither. But he was overruled. 
 The Syracusan Assembly passed a desire that both 
 should be put to death. All that Gylippus could do, 
 was to save them from the ignominy of a public 
 execution, by enabling them to put an end to their 
 own lives. 
 
 In this dismal story there is one redeeming feature. 
 " Some," says Plutarch, telling the story of the Sicilian 
 expedition in his Life of Nicias, "owed their safety 
 to the poems of Euripides, whose poems were more 
 popular among the Syracusans than among any other 
 Greeks. Any passages from these they gladly learnt 
 and repeated to each other. And some of the sur- 
 vivors of the expedition, returning to Athens, thanked 
 Euripides for the service which his verses had done 
 them, in earning for them the kindness of their 
 masters* 
 
CHAPTER XVm 
 
 THE LAST STRUGGLE, 
 
 WHATEVER we may think of the character of 
 the Athenian democracy, however great the 
 faults we may lay to its charge fickleness, arrogance, 
 cruelty to its dependents there can be no doubt as 
 to the magnificent courage and resolution, with which 
 it struggled on under the pressure of ruinous losses, 
 and against overwhelming odds. The disastrous end 
 of the expedition against Syracuse had been a heavier 
 blow to Athens than it is easy for us to conceive. 
 We have seen that more than two thousand citizen 
 soldiers went with the first armament, and that the 
 number was afterwards increased. It is probable that 
 more than half of these never returned. Comparing 
 these numbers with the total population of the city, 
 which probably did not include more than twenty 
 thousand citizens of all ages, it is not too much to 
 say that modem history records no such disaster 
 proportionately so great. It means the loss of two 
 
 MO 
 
THE LAST STRUGGLE. 241 
 
 fifths of the able-bodied males. Prance suffered 
 heavily during the Franco-Prussian war, but to suffer 
 as heavily as Athens in the year 416 415 she would 
 have had to lose absolutely two million soldiers. And 
 yet for ten years more the gallant democracy of 
 Athens struggled on. In 406 it seemed as if the 
 end had come. The Peloponnesian fleet, under the 
 command of the ablest, and we may add the noblest, 
 man that Sparta ever produced, Brasidas, perhaps, 
 only excepted, Callicratidas, * had blockaded the last 
 Athenian fleet in the harbour of Mitylene. Conon, 
 its commander, had, indeed, had a narrow escape of 
 losing his fleet altogether. It was only by the superior 
 speed, obtained by reducing the number of his ships 
 and transferring the best rowers into the remainder, 
 that he had been able to get to Mitylene at all. 
 Even then his pursuers had entered the harbour 
 along with him, and he had been compelled to fight. 
 Thirty out of his seventy ships had been sunk, and 
 the remaining forty saved only by hauling them up 
 on shore, close to the wall. These forty ships, unable 
 to put to sea, were, for the time, all that remained 
 of the fleet, with which five-and-twenty years before 
 Athens had ruled the seas. 
 
 The nobility of Callicratidas's character is shown especially 
 in his refusal to intrigue for the favour of the Persians, and 
 by his generosity in setting free the prisoners Lesbians and 
 Athenians captured at Methymna. 
 
 16 
 
242 THE LAST STRUGGLE. 
 
 Conon, though safe for the moment, was in the 
 greatest straits. Mitylene was crowded with fugitives 
 from the island, and had not been provisioned for a siege. 
 The only hope was in speedy relief from Athens, and 
 the first question was, how to convey the tidings. 
 Two of the swiftest ships, manned by the best 
 rowers in the fleet, were exercised for four days; at 
 noon on the fifth, when the blockading force was in 
 its least watchful temper, they made a rush from 
 the harbour. Separating as soon as they were outside, 
 one made for the Hellespont, the head of the other 
 was pointed for Athens. Some of the Peloponnesian 
 squadron started in hot pursuit, their most vigorous 
 efforts being directed to the ship that was making 
 for Athens. This was overhauled at sunset; the 
 other escaped, and when well out of sight, changed 
 its course, and carried the news to Athens. 
 
 Meanwhile another disaster had happened. A small 
 squadron, which had been detached from the main 
 force, attempted, with what seems to have been 
 somewhat foolhardy courage, to relieve their block- 
 aded comrades. The Spartan admiral fell upon them 
 unexpectedly, as they lay at anchor, and captured ten 
 out of the twelve ships. 
 
 At Athens, after the first feeling of consternation 
 had passed away, the people rose to the situation. 
 Every ship, old or new, if only it could float, was 
 hastily made ready for service, and a levy en masse 
 
THE LAST STRUaOLK. 243 
 
 of the whole able-hodied* population of the city 
 was made. No class was allowed, or sought, ex- 
 emption. The wealthy knights, who were not called 
 upon to serve in any expedition in which cavalry 
 could not be employed, hung up their bridles in the 
 temples, as they had done before the great day of 
 Salamis, and embarked as marines. Slaves, as well 
 as freemen, were enlisted, and were encouraged to 
 be faithful and brave by the promise of freedom when 
 the danger was passed. The result of this energetic 
 action was that one hundred and ten ships were 
 equipped and manned in the space of thirty days. 
 From the PirsBus the fleet sailed to Samos, where it 
 was joined by a squadron of ten ships. Thirty more 
 came from the other allies, swelling the total number 
 to one hundred and fifty. Callicratidas had a total 
 force of one hundred and seventy. Fifty of these he 
 left to continue the blockade of Mitylene ; with the 
 rest he sailed to meet the relieving fleet. He pur- 
 posed making a night attack, which would probably 
 have greatly endangered the hasty levies opposed to 
 him, but was prevented by a heavy down-pour of 
 rain and a thunderstorm, from putting to sea. The 
 weather cleared at daybreak, and he sailed to meet 
 the Athenian fleet. This was massed in close bodies, 
 the line being made so strong that the dreaded 
 
 * All the males from eighteen te mKtj, 
 
244 THE LAST STRUGGLE. 
 
 manoeuvre of the 'diecplus** could not be employed. 
 The reason given by the historian, himself an Athen- 
 ian, for the adoption of these tactics is that " they 
 were inferior in sailing power. * The Lacedaemonians, 
 he adds, * trusting to their superior seamanship, " 
 endeavoured to execute the manoeuvre of which their 
 adversaries stood in so much fear. These admissions, 
 which are made without a word of comment, are 
 most significant. They mark the beginning of the 
 end. In the early days of the war the nautical 
 superiority of the Athenians had been most marked. 
 But times had changed. The long struggle of a 
 quarter of a century had drained Athens of its best 
 blood. The skilful seamen of the old time had 
 perished in countless battles, or had grown too old 
 for service, and their place was filled by an inefficient 
 multitude, most of whom were wholly strange to their 
 work. On the day of Arginusse, however, (the White 
 Islets), for so the battle was called, from the station 
 occupied by the Athenian fleet, something of the old 
 splendour of Athens, in courage and skill, was to flash 
 out again for the last time. 
 
 The diecplus" was a rapid forward movement, which 
 hrought the attacking ships hetween those that were standing 
 on the defensive, followed by an equally rapid turn which 
 enabled them to " ram " the adversaries on the side. To be 
 practised with success this required a skilful steersman and a 
 well- practised crew. 
 
THE LAST STRUGGLE. 245 
 
 The Spartan admiral was advised by one of his 
 allies to postpone an engagement till he could meet 
 the enemy with equal numbers. He refused. * Sparta," 
 he said, "will not suffer for losing a single citizen," 
 and he gave the order to advance. The battle was 
 obstinately contested. For a time the opposing fleets 
 preserved the order in which they had been drawn 
 up; then the struggle was waged by single ships, 
 anyhow and anywhere, just as they happened to 
 meet. The Peloponnesians lost their gallant com- 
 mander. He was standing on the prow of his ship, 
 as this was driven against an enemy, eager, it would 
 seem, to head a boarding party. It was a strange 
 purpose, one cannot but think, in an admiral who 
 was responsible for the conduct of a hundred ships, 
 but a Greek could seldom resist the delight of actual 
 conflict. * The shock of the impact made him lose 
 his footing ; he fell into the sea, and clad as he was 
 in heavy armour, was drowned. Nine out of the 
 small Spartan squadron of ten ships were destroyed 
 at the same time, and sixty-eight from the rest of 
 the fleet. If Conon at Mitylene could have known 
 what had happened, he might have completed the 
 victory by attacking the blockading squadron. This 
 was saved by an ingenious device. The officer in 
 
 * Alexander the Great was in the habit of fighting like a 
 private soldier. Doubtless, he found his profit in so doing, bat 
 it was a tremendous risk for the armj. 
 
246 TBI LAST STRUOOLB. 
 
 command heard the news from the admiraFs signal 
 boat. He directed it to leave the harbour, and then 
 to return, crowned with triumphal garlands, with its 
 men uttering shouts of triumph. Conon was deceived 
 and made no movement. That same night the squadron 
 secretly left its station, and effected a junction with 
 what remained of the defeated fleet. 
 
 The Athenian fleet lost twenty-five ships. Unfor- 
 tunately, nearly all of the sailors and marines on 
 board of them were drowned. From this came the 
 melancholy sequel of my story. 
 
 The despatch announcing the victory brought, also, 
 the sad intelligence that the crews of the ships that 
 had been lost had perished with them; the corpses 
 of the slain had not been recovered for burial, the 
 survivors had not been picked up. A squadron had, 
 indeed, been told off for this service, but a sudden 
 storm had prevented its execution. 
 
 The truth of the account was doubted at home, 
 and not, as will be seen, without reason. Two of 
 the generals were prudent enough not to return to 
 the city ; the others were arrested shortly after their 
 arrival, on the charge of having neglected their duty. 
 At first, it seemed possible that their explanations 
 might be accepted by the majority of their fellow- 
 countrymen. A great victory had been won, and it 
 would ill become Athens to deal harshly with those 
 who had saved her. It is possible that, if the matter 
 
THE iJlst struoolb. 247 
 
 had been decided in the first Assembly, the accused 
 might have been acquitted. But the debate had 
 lasted long ; it was so dark it would have been 
 impossible to count the show of hands. Accordingly, 
 the Assembly was adjourned. 
 
 Before it met again the festival of the Apaturia 
 had come round. It was a time of family gatherings, 
 a time, therefore, when the loss of kinsmen would be 
 most vividly felt. Xenophon tells us that the party 
 adverse to the generals actually hired men to per- 
 sonate bereaved mourners. This seems hard to 
 believe. It may mean nothing more than that the 
 mourners were urged to make a parade of their loss 
 and their sorrow. Anyhow, the number of persons 
 seen in mourning during the festival, profoundly 
 affected the people ; and when they met at the 
 adjourned Assembly, their temper was fiercely hostile. 
 
 That there had been neglect seems beyond doubt. 
 Xenophon repeats at length the speech of one of 
 the accused generals. The speaker makes admissions 
 which prove that the anger of the people was not 
 without justification. The truth was, that the excuse 
 about the storm was not true. The facts were as 
 follows: When the victory had been decided, one 
 of the generals proposed that the whole fleet should 
 sail out in line (so as to cover as wide a space as 
 possible) and pick up the crews of the ships that 
 had been sunk. Another was in favour of the whole 
 
248 THE LAST STRUGGLE. 
 
 fleet proceeding in pursuit of the enemy. A third 
 proposed a middle course. Part of the fleet was to 
 sail in pursuit, part was to be left to rescue the 
 survivors. This proposal was adopted, and it was 
 here that the default had taken place. There had 
 been a storm, it is true, but not such a storm as 
 to prevent all action. The speaker, it must be under- 
 stood, did not admit this last statement; but he 
 revealed a significant difference of opinion among the 
 officers m command. 
 
 But if the people had some cause for their anger, 
 the way in which they proceeded to vent it on the 
 accused was blameable in the extreme. It was pro- 
 posed that all the accused should be tried at once, and 
 that the fate of all should be decided by a single vote. 
 
 This proposition was in flagrant violation of the 
 law, which provided that every accused person should 
 be tried separately. There were not wanting speakers 
 who reminded the Assembly of this fact, but the 
 majority of the voters was too excited to listen to 
 them. Their rage had been roused to fury by the 
 story of a. man who professed to have been an eye- 
 witness of the disaster, and to bring a message from 
 the dead to their countrymen at home. The man, 
 who must be ranked amongst the liars that have 
 reached historic fame, declared that he had saved 
 himself by clinging to an empty meal-tub, that as 
 he kept himself up in the water, he had been sur- 
 
THE LAST STRUGGLE. 249 
 
 rounded by drowning men who had commissioned 
 him, in case he should get safe to land, to tell the 
 Athenians how they had fought for their fatherland, 
 and how the generals had left them to drown. In 
 vain did some of the cooler heads in the Assembly 
 endeavour to check the fury of the people. Even 
 the threat, commonly so effective, that the proposer 
 of this illegal proceeding should be indicted for an 
 unconstitutional proceeding, was made in vain. One 
 of the accusers proposed that if those who used this 
 threat should persist in urging it on the present occasion, 
 they should be included in the same indictment with the 
 incriminated generals. Some of the presiding magis- 
 trates refused to put an illegal motion to the Assembly. 
 They were met by the same cry: " Put it or you also 
 will be included." With one exception they yielded 
 to the clamour. The one resolute champion of right 
 and law who refused to give way, was Socrates. In 
 one account Xenophon declares that he was the 
 acting president of the day; in another he describes 
 him as one of the magistrates. Whatever may have 
 been the case, his opposition was overruled. His 
 colleagues put the motion, without waiting for his 
 consent. It was carried by a majority, after an 
 amendment, providing for a separate trial, had been 
 rejected, but only by a second show of hands. The 
 accused were put to death. So did Athens undo, by 
 an act of fatal ingratitude, the benefit of her last victory. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE EYE OF GREECS, 
 
 THE victory of Arginusse was barren of all results, 
 except, indeed, the fatal lesson that the Athenian 
 democracy was an ill mistress to serve. Certain it 
 is, that she found no one to serve her during the year 
 that followed the events related in my last chapter. 
 The fleet was not wanting in numbers. The losses at 
 Arginusse had been more than made up, for the total was 
 now one hundred and eighty ships. And Conon, an able 
 and energetic officer was in command. Still, something 
 seems to have been wrong. The summer was wasted 
 in vague and desultory movements. Little was 
 done, and that little always too late. The final 
 catastrophe came in September. The Lacedaemonian 
 Hoet, under its able commander, Lysandor, had made 
 a rapid movement northwards, and had captu'-ed and 
 sacked the wealthy town of Lampsacus, situated on 
 the European side of the Hellespont, and an old ally 
 of Athena. The Athenian fleet followed him, was too 
 
THE ETE OF GREEOB. 251 
 
 late to give any help to the friendly Lampsacenes, 
 and finally, in the hope of bringing abont a general 
 engagement, took up its position at -^gospotami 
 (Goat's-rivers), a spot on the Asiatic shore directly 
 opposite to Lampsaous. The position was singularly 
 ill chosen. There was neither harbour nor anchor- 
 age ; nor could any supplies be obtained for the crews 
 nearer than at Sestos, nearly two miles distant by 
 land and more than twice as much by sea.* If the 
 Lacedasmonian fleet could have been persuaded to 
 give battle, all might have been well, but the wary 
 Lysander hoped to win his victory at a smaller cost. 
 On the morning after their arrival, the Athenians 
 manned their vessels and sailed across the Hellespont 
 to Lampsacus, where the enemy lay. They found 
 him prepared for battle, his fleet drawn up in regular 
 array, and his land force standing on the shore, ready 
 to give such help as might be wanted. He declined, 
 however, to advance, and the Athenians, on their 
 part, dared not hazard an attack. For four days 
 these proceedings were repeated. The Athenians 
 sailed across the Hellespont, and returned to their 
 position, each time becoming more confident, because 
 more contemptuous of what they considered to be 
 Lysander's cowardice in declining battle. But the 
 
 * It must be remembered that Greek fleets and armiee were 
 not regularly provisioned, but had to depend for their supply of 
 proyision on the localities where they were operating. 
 
252 THE EYE OF GREECE. 
 
 Spartan was on the watch. Every day the Athenian 
 ships were followed by some swift galleys, who 
 observed carefully how the crews disposed of them- 
 selves when dismissed for the day. 
 
 Another observer, not less keen and more friendly, 
 was at hand. Alcibiades was watching events from 
 his Thracian castle, and saw plainly enough the 
 perilous position in which his countrymen were placed. 
 In the course of the fifth day he rode up to the 
 Athenian camp. "You are putting yourselves," he 
 said, "at great disadvantage; the enemy have a 
 convenient harbour at their command, and supplies 
 within easy reach; your ships lie on an open beach, 
 and your men have to fetch everything they want 
 from a distance." This advice was contemptuously 
 repulsed. "It is we," said one of the generals to 
 whom he had addressed himself, "that are in com- 
 mand, not you. " Alcibiades, believing that there was 
 more than mere incompetence behind this extraordinary 
 disregard of the commonest precautions, departed. 
 He "suspected treachery," says Plutarch, and, indeed, 
 it is difficult to assign any other cause for conduct, 
 of which the most inexperienced civilian would have 
 seen the danger. 
 
 For five more days the same state of things con- 
 tinued. The Athenians grew more and more reckless 
 in their own neglect of precautions. Then the end 
 came. The Athenian fleet had made its usual demon- 
 
THE EYE OP GREECB. 253 
 
 strati on, and had returned to its station at -^gos- 
 potami ; the crews had dispersed to get their mid-day 
 meal. Lysander's swift galleys, following these move- 
 ments as on the previous days, hoisted the signal 
 a bright shield which was to indicate that the 
 moment for attack had come. The Peloponnesian 
 tieefc, which had been kept ready for action, moved 
 out of the harbour of Lampsacus, crossed the Hellespont 
 at full speed, and fell upon their defenceless enemy. 
 Some of the ships were absolutely empty, others had 
 but two or even one of their three banks of rowers 
 complete ; their missing seamen and marines were 
 scattered far and wide over the country. Of the 
 generals only one was on the alert. This was Conon. 
 He signalled, as soon as he saw the enemy's fleet 
 in motion, that all hands were to return to their 
 ships. It was all that he could do, but it was too 
 late. In his own ship and in eight others he had 
 contrived to keep up discipline. These were ready 
 for action ; so was the Paralus, one of the two sacred 
 vessels which were kept for special services. It was 
 hopeless, of course, to attempt resistance with so 
 small a force. The Paralus was despatched to Athens 
 with the news. With the remaining eight, Conon 
 made the best of his way to Salamis in Cyprus, where 
 he could count on a welcome from Evagoras, a prince 
 whose friendly feeling to Athens had been, a few 
 years before, acknowledged by the gift of citizenship. 
 
254 THE EYE OP GREECE. 
 
 Before starting he secured his retreat by an act of 
 great promptitude and courage, sailing across the 
 strait to where the stores of the Peloponnesian fleet 
 were kept, and seizing the great sails of the ships. * 
 Of the other Athenian ships not one escaped. A few 
 of the crews escaped to fortresses in the neighbour- 
 hood ; the rest were taken prisoners. This overwhelm- 
 ing success was secured without the loss of a single 
 man to the victorious armament. 
 
 The fate of the prisoners was left by Lysander 
 to the decision of the allies. This was, that all the 
 Athenian prisoners with the exception of one of the 
 generals, Adeimantus by name, should be put to death. 
 It was a merciless act, but the sufferers were only 
 receiving the same measure which they had dealt 
 out to others. Only a few months before, the Assembly 
 had decreed that every prisoner of war should have 
 his right hand cut off. And the massacre of the crews 
 of two Peloponnesian vessels, one from Corinth, the 
 other from Andres, was fresh in ther emembrance of 
 the conquerors. This had been personally ordered 
 by Philocles, one of the captive generals, and Lysander 
 asked him what the man who had done such deeds 
 deserved to suffer. "It is idle," replied the prisoner, 
 with unbroken courage, * to bring charges for which 
 you can find no proof ; you are conqueror ; do what 
 
 * These were landed before action, whenever it was prac 
 ticable to do so. ' 
 
THE EYE OF OREEC. 255 
 
 you certainly would have had to suffer if you had 
 been conquered." And he went to his death with 
 unfaltering step, arrayed in his gayest apparel. 
 
 The Paralus reached Athens at night, probably on 
 t'le fourth or fifth day after the disaster, the distance 
 between the scene of action and Athens being 
 something less than three hundred miles. Xenophon, 
 probably an eye-witness of the scene, thus describes 
 it: When the Paralus reached the city with the 
 evil tidings, " a bitter wail of woe broke forth. 
 From Piraeus, following the line of the Long Walls, 
 up to the heart of the city it swept and swelled, 
 as each man to his neighbour passed on the news. 
 On that night no man slept. There were mourning 
 and sorrow for those that were lost, but the lamen- 
 tation for the dead was mingled in even deeper 
 sorrow for themselves, as they pictured the evils 
 which they were about to suffer, the like of which 
 they had themselves inflicted upon others ; * and he 
 goes on to give a dismal catalogue of the cities which 
 Athens had shamefully ill-treated. The particulars 
 were so well known to his readers that he mentions 
 only the names. This is the dismal list. 
 
 1. The town of Melos in the island of the same 
 name was captured in 416. All the adult males had 
 been put to death and the women and children sold 
 into slavery. This cruelty was the more atrocious, 
 because the Athenians had not even the poor excuse 
 
256 THE EYE OF GREECE. 
 
 that Melos had revolted. The island had never joined 
 the Delian confederacy. It was a Dorian colony, and 
 had remained faithful to its mother city, Sparta. 
 
 2. HistiaBa, one of the Euboean towns, had revolted 
 along with the rest of the island, against Athenian 
 rule in 445. When this was restored, the inhabitants 
 were expelled and their land divided among Athenian 
 settlers. 
 
 3. Scione, a town in Thrace, had been treated in 
 the same way as Melos, the adult males slain, the 
 women and children sold into slavery. The Athenians 
 were enraged by the fact that the town had revolted 
 from them to the Spartans, two days after the con- 
 clusion of a truce, and that the Spartans had refused 
 .to give it back. 
 
 4. Torone was another town in Thrace and had 
 revolted with its neighbour Scione. In this case 
 there was no special aggravation, and the Athenians 
 contented themselves with selling the women and 
 children, and taking the men as prisoners to Athens, 
 where they were afterwards exchanged. 
 
 5. The inhabitants of ^gina were expelled from 
 their country in 431 at the beginning of the Pelo- 
 ponnesian war. They were old ener/iies and rivals of 
 Athens, but had given no fresh offence. They were 
 removed because they were dangerously near to the 
 great harbour of Athens, the Piraeus "the eye-sore 
 of the Piraeus, " Pericles was wont to call ^Egina. * And 
 
THB EYE OF GREECE. 257 
 
 many another Greek city, * adds the historian, quite 
 truthfully, no doubt, but with a bitterness heightened 
 by the recollection of his own wrongs, for Athens 
 had banished him. We cannot wonder that a city 
 with such a past behind her should look forward with 
 dread to the future. Fugitives from all the depen- 
 dencies now came flocking in. Before many days were 
 past, scarcely a town in the great Athenian confed- 
 eracy remained. Many revolted; others were taken. 
 But no more severities were exercised on the prisoners 
 so taken. They were not even detained. Only it 
 was strictly enjoined upon them to return at once 
 to Athens. If taken again elsewhere they would be 
 put to death. Lysander reckoned on the aid of famine 
 in reducing the city, and famine would operate the 
 more speedily the more crowded the population within 
 the walls. 
 
 The city was closely blockaded, both by land, where 
 the Spartan king Agis occupied the fort of Decelea, 
 and by sea, which was held by Pausanias with a fleet 
 of a hundred and fifty ships. On the other hand, 
 the Athenians prepared for a vigorous defence, blocking 
 up all the harbours but one, and manning the walls. 
 On the other hand, a large additional force from the 
 Peloponnesus came to reinforce the army, which the 
 Spartan king Agis had kept the summer through 
 before the walls, while Lysander with a fleet of a 
 hundred and fifty ships, blockaded the harbour. 
 
 17 
 
258 THE EYE OP GREECE. 
 
 The resolution of the besieged soon failed under 
 the pressure of famine. Envoys were sent to king 
 Agis with proposals to form an alliance with Sparta, 
 every point in dispute being yielded, except that 
 Athens was to keep its fortifications and its great 
 harbour, the PirsBus. Agis declared, that he had no 
 power to treat; the envoys must go to Sparta. To 
 Sparta, accordingly, they went. On reaching Laconian 
 territory, and communicating the terms which they 
 were instructed to offer to the Spartan authorities, 
 they received a peremptory order to depart. If they 
 really wanted peace, they must be the bearers of 
 more satisfactory terms. With this answer they 
 returned to Athens. A small minority was in favour 
 of accepting the inevitable, but the spirit of the 
 people was not yet broken. A senator who proposed 
 yielding to the Lacedaemonian terms, was thrown 
 into prison. The situation was critical. Submission 
 was inevitable, but the counsellor who might recom- 
 mend it, would run a great risk of his life. Nothing 
 remained but to cajole the people into accepting the 
 inevitable. A patriotic citizen might quite properly 
 have undertaken this task; the man who actually 
 undertook and carried it through, cannot be credited 
 with honourable motives. That he was keen enough 
 to see the state of the case may be conceded; this, 
 indeed, was patent to every reflecting person. But 
 it is doing him no injustice to say that personal 
 
THE EYE OP GREECE. 259 
 
 ambition was the ruling motive of his conduct 
 Theramenes had already made his mark as a 
 prominent politician on the oligarchical side. In the 
 affair of Arginusae he had behaved with peculiar 
 baseness. Responsible himself, as much as any man, 
 for the loss of the shipwrecked men for the task of 
 picking them up had been assigned to him, among 
 others he led the attack on the generals. So strong 
 was the feeling against him that, when afterwards 
 he was appointed to a command, the fleet refused 
 to accept him. He now saw an opportunity of 
 ingratiating himself with the state which would soon, 
 he perceived, have the disposal of political power at 
 Athens. Standing forth in the Assembly, dispirited 
 and dismayed as it was by the failure of the embassy, 
 he said : " Send me to Lysander, and I will find out 
 why the Lacedaemonians insist upon destroying the 
 walls; whether it is because they wish to enslave 
 you, or because they simply desire a guarantee of your 
 good faith." He was sent accordingly, but he made 
 no attempt to fulfil his mission. He simply lingered 
 with Lysander and the blockading fleet for three 
 months, waiting till the pressure of famine in the 
 city should become so intolerably hard that the 
 besieged would be ready to accept any conditions. 
 When this time had, as he thought, arrived, he 
 returned to Athens and declared that Lysander had 
 detained him, and now, after all this time had been 
 
260 THE EYE OP GREECE. 
 
 lost, told him that he had no power to treat and 
 that he must go to Sparta. 
 
 The treacherous messenger found his countrymen 
 in the state which he had expected, ready to submit 
 to anything. They chose him to go to Sparta, along 
 with nine colleagues, with full powers to treat. The 
 Spartan government, on their arrival, called an 
 assembly of their allies, and submitted the question 
 to them. Two at least of the powers were against 
 granting any terms. Nothing but the absolute destruction 
 of Athens would satisfy them. Many other states, 
 Xenophon tells us, showed this feeling but none 
 expressed it so decidedly. The Spartans put a veto 
 on the proposal. Athens had done great service to 
 the common race in the past. They would not, as 
 one of them expressed it, put out one of the eyes 
 of Greece. Little, however, beyond bare existence 
 was conceded. The walls were to be destroyed, the 
 Piraeus harbour blocked up, and all the ships of war 
 but twelve handed over to the conquerors. Theramenes 
 and his colleagues returned, and shameful as were 
 the conditions which they brought back with them, 
 were received with enthusiasm. Anything seemed 
 better than the destruction which seemed imminent 
 and which they felt to be not undeserved. A small 
 minority still resisted, but this cheap exhibition of 
 independence, not intended, as we may be sure, to 
 succeed, was overruled. The fleet was handed over 
 
THE EYE OF GREECE. 261 
 
 to the Peloponnesians ; the walls were pulled down 
 to the sound of joyous music. And the day by a 
 singular coincidence, was the anniversary of that on 
 which, seventy-five years before, Athens had saved 
 Greece in the Bay of Salamis. It is possible that 
 there may have been old men who remembered the 
 culmination of their country's glory, and now they 
 looked upon her alL 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 THE LI02rS CUB. 
 
 WHEN in the Frogs of Aristophanes, Bacchus, 
 sorely in need of a dramatic poet who will be 
 able to produce some play of decent merit at his 
 festivals, goes down to the Regions of the Dead, in 
 search of what he wants. Arrived at his destination, 
 he finds himself called upon to choose between ^Eschylus 
 and Euripides. Among other tests of merit, he pro- 
 poses to the candidates for his favour, that they should 
 give their countrymen such good advice that there 
 should be once again a prosperous Athens, exhibiting 
 tragedies in the style in which they should be exhib- 
 ited. Thereupon -^schylus delivers himself of the 
 following ; 
 
 Rear not a lion's cub within your walls. 
 But having reared him, let him work his wilL* 
 
 We may be sure that everyone in the audience 
 knew what was meant *-he lion's cub was Alcibiades, 
 son of Cleinias. 
 
ARISTOPHANES. 
 From a Bust Found near Tusculum. 
 
TH lion's cub. 263 
 
 At the time when the play above mentioned was 
 exhibited (the early spring of 405 B.C.) AJcibiades 
 was for the second time in exile. His career was, in 
 fact, practically at an end, but it is possible that if 
 the advice which it put into the old poet's mouth 
 had been followed, the fate of Athens might have 
 been averted or, at least, postponed. It is, anyhow, 
 certain that Alcibiades had never failed in anything 
 that he undertook. An utterly selfish politician, he 
 was yet a man of conspicuous abih'ty. The magnitude 
 of the injury which he did to his country when 
 seeking to revenge himself for his first banishment 
 is the measure of his remarkable powers. 
 
 He was connected on the mother's side with the 
 noble house of the Alcmaeonidae, the great Pericles 
 being his near kinsman, and, in right of this rela- 
 tionship, one of his guardians during his minority. 
 The great statesman was probably too much occupied 
 t6 take much thought for his ward, and his fellow- 
 guardian, his brother Ariphon, was a man of little 
 weight. This, doubtless, was one of the many adverse 
 influences which told against the young Alcibiades, 
 From the very beginning of his life he seems to have 
 been spoilt. Left at the age of two without a father's 
 care, rich, noble, singularly beautiful in person, of a 
 haughty and ambitious temper, it would have been 
 almost a miracle if he had grown up to be a self- 
 controlled, law-abiding citizen. Plutarch tells two 
 
264 THE lion's cub. 
 
 characteristic stories of his boyhood. Overpowered 
 by the superior strength of his antagonist in a 
 wrestling match, he caught his opponent's hand in 
 his teeth. * What ! ' cried the lad, " do you bite like a 
 woman, Alcibiades? " * No," he answered, *I bite like 
 a lion." On another occasion he was playing dice in 
 the street. A waggon approached, and its surly driver 
 refused to stop. The boy's playfellows dispersed, 
 but Alcibiades threw himself at full length before 
 the feet of the horses. *Run over me, if you dare,* 
 he cried. At eighteen, when he attained his majority, 
 he received from his guardians his property, largely 
 increased, probably, during a minority of sixteen years. 
 This must have been very shortly before the death 
 of Pericles, which, happened in the autumn of 429. 
 Possibly it is to this time that we are to refer an 
 anecdote, which if it is true, indicates pretty clearly 
 the way in which, the young aristocrat regarded 
 Athenian politics. Calling at his guardian's house, 
 and being refused admittance because the statesman 
 was busy with the accounts which he had to render 
 to the people, he remarked : " It would be far better 
 for him to busy himself in thinking how he may best 
 avoid rendering them at all." In common with all 
 young Athenians, he served in the army. Here, of 
 course, he found opportunities for the display and 
 ostentation which were part of his character. His 
 shield was inlaid with gold and ivory, and carried 
 
t 
 
 THE lion's cub. 265 
 
 the device of Zeus hurling a thunderbolt, borne, it 
 will be remembered, by Hyperbius, one of the Theban 
 Champions in 'Septem contra Thebas' of iEschylus. 
 His first foreign service was in 429 B.C. before Potidsea. 
 Here he was wounded and was for a time in great 
 danger, but was saved by Socrates, whose favourite 
 pupil he had been. The philosopher was strongly 
 attracted by the grace and beauty of the young man, 
 but seems not to have spared him plain-spoken rebukes 
 A strange affection grew up between them. The 
 influence of the elder man was not, we may believe, 
 wholly useless, though it did not suffice to keep back 
 the younger from a career of extravagance and folly. 
 On the other hand, we have reason for knowing that 
 the philosopher's unpopularity was much increased 
 by the misdoings of some of his pupils. Of these 
 Alcibiades was the most notorious. The special service 
 which Socrates performed at Potidasa was in a way 
 repaid at the disastrous defeat of Delium in 424. 
 B.C. At this battle Alcibiades was serving on horse- 
 back, and helped to protect the retreat of his master, 
 who was on foot. 
 
 The feelings with which Alcibiades was regarded 
 among his fellow-citizens were, we may be sure, of 
 a mixed kind. Some of his exploits must have ex- 
 torted Sk half unwilling admiration. When, probably 
 in the year of the battle of Delium, he ran seven 
 four-horsed chariots at Olympia, and won the first, 
 
266 THE lion's cub. 
 
 second, and fourth prizes ; when it was seen that the 
 ships of war which he had to man and equip were 
 the best provided in the fleet, that the plays which 
 he had to put upon the stage had more costly 
 scenery and better ^usic than any other, a certain 
 popularity followed. 
 
 But the favour thus won is of a very uncertain 
 and evanescent kind, while the enmities made by a 
 haughty and insolent demeanour and by acts of wanton 
 violence, are fierce and lasting. His conduct to his 
 wife Hipparete must have alienated from him the 
 powerful family to which she belonged. Enraged at 
 her husband's numerous infidelities, she left his home 
 and took refuge with her brother. Alcihiades affected 
 unconcern, * If my wife wants a divorce, " he said, 
 " she must deposit her memorial with the magis- 
 trate in person." Hipparete proceeded to comply 
 with the demand, which was probably legal. As she 
 was crossing the market-place Alcihiades seized her 
 and carried her to his home, where she remained till 
 her death. He showed similar audacity in serving 
 a friend, against whom an action had been brought. 
 He went to the Temple of Demeter where the State 
 archives were kept, asked to see the list of causes, 
 and wetting his finger, simply wiped out the charge 
 against his friend. We may compare it to burning 
 a writ. 
 
 It is difficult to define the line which Alcihiades 
 
THE lion's cub. 267 
 
 took in Athenian politics, for we can see that it was 
 largely influenced by personal feelings. It is pro- 
 bable that he did not become prominent till after the 
 death of Cleon. The most powerful personages in 
 Athens after this event, were Hyperbolus, who claimed 
 to be Cleon's successor, and Kicias, the leader of the 
 peace party. Hyperbolus endeavoured to get rid of 
 one or two of his rivals by ostracism; but they 
 combined together against him, and succeeded in 
 turning his weapon against himself. For a time it 
 seemed that Alcibiades would endeavour to oust 
 Nicias from his position as head of the peace party. 
 Anyhow he did his best to procure the release 
 of the Spartan soldiers taken at Sphacteria, and to 
 make himself generally a persona grata at Sparta.* 
 But the Spartans naturally preferred their old friends, 
 and when the Athenians at last abated their exces- 
 sive pretensions and consented to treat, refused the 
 services of Alcibiades, and made Nicias and Laches 
 their intermediaries. The brief peace that followed 
 was known as the Peace of Nicias. 
 
 Alcibiades now threw himself unreservedly into the 
 arms of the war party. He did his best to embroil 
 his country with Sparta, and succeeded in forming 
 an alliance with the anti-Spartan powers in the 
 
 * It must be understood that friendship with Sparta meant 
 adhesion to the peace party and to the general policy of the 
 aristocratic party. 
 
268 THE lion's cub. 
 
 Peloponnese, Argos, Mantinea, and Elis. His schemes 
 were brought to nothing by the disastrous defeat 
 which the allies suffered at Mantinea in 418. Al- 
 cibiades appears not to have been present at the battle. 
 
 The share that he took in promoting the ruinous 
 expedition against Syracuse, and the fate by which 
 he was himself overtaken have been already described. 
 And now the worst nature of the man, the innate 
 ferocity of the " lion's cub " came out. He turned 
 all his knowledge of the Athenian plans and all his 
 consummate abilities against his countrymen. The 
 Spartans, always slow to act, were carried away by 
 his energy. By his advice they actively took up the 
 cause of the Syracusans, sent one of their ablest 
 soldiers to help them, and renewed the occupation 
 of Decelea which had been so damaging to Athens 
 in the earlier part of the war. For a time he enjoyed 
 a great popularity among his hosts. 
 
 Throwing off the luxurious habits for which 
 he had been notorious in Athens, he affected a 
 Spartan simplicity, frugality, and hardness of life. 
 But a private quarrel with one of the kings, a quarrel 
 in which the offence was given by Alcibiades, brought 
 his residence at Sparta to an end. He fled into 
 Asia, and took refuge with Tissaphernes, one of the 
 Persian satraps. His personal charm was as effectual 
 with Tissaphernes as it had been in Athens and 
 Sparta. A series of tortuous intrigues followed. A 
 
THE lion's cub. 269 
 
 breach between Sparta and the Satrap was effected, 
 but it was not so easy to get any positive help from 
 him for Athens, in the shape either of men or of 
 gold. Still Alcibiades traded on the influence which 
 he was reputed to have over the Persian rulers, 
 endeavouring to obtain the repeal of the decree of 
 banishment passed against him three years before. 
 With characteristic want of principle he tried both 
 parties in turn. First, he offered to bring overTis- 
 saphernes as the price of his own recall but imposed, 
 the condition that the democratic government of 
 Athens must give place to an oligarchy. The con- 
 dition was accepted ; the democracy for a time ceased 
 to exist, its place being taken by the oligarchy of the 
 Four Hundred. But these new rulers did not trust 
 their ally ; and no decree of recall was passed. There- 
 upon Alcibiades reversed his policy. (It must be 
 remembered that the man's contemporaries had nothing 
 like the complete view of his intrigues which history 
 enables us to obtain.) The news of the political 
 revolution at Athens was ill received by the fleet at 
 Samos the crews *the sea-faring multitude" as the 
 aristocratic Aristophanes contemptuously calls them 
 were always strongly democratic. They constituted 
 themselves into an assembly, they chose new generals, 
 and, after some hesitation, recalled Alcibiades. Thras- 
 ybulus, who was the leading spirit in the fleet, 
 crossed over from Samos to the mainland and brought 
 
270 THE lion's CtJB. 
 
 him back. An Assembly was held to receive him; 
 he addressed it with such success that he was elected 
 general. There was a strong desire in the fleet to 
 sail to Athens and restore the old state of things by- 
 force. Alcibiades successfully combated it. He knew 
 that his promises to bring over Tissaphernes to the 
 side of Athens for he had repeated to the fleet what 
 he had said to the Four Hundred were delusive, 
 and that such a movement as was proposed would 
 leave all that Athens possessed in the ^gean at the 
 mercy of her enemy. His action at this crisis pro- 
 bably postponed the fall of the city. Had it not 
 been for this what happened in 404 would have 
 happened in 411. 
 
 Alcibiades did not return to Athens : he felt him- 
 self to be more usefully employed, and it may be 
 added, in greater safety, with the fleet. The men 
 followed him with enthusiasm, for he showed con- 
 summate ability. His greatest achievement was the 
 victory of Cyzicus, at which the entire Lacedae- 
 monian fleet was taken, except the contingent from 
 Syracuse, which was burnt by its own crews.* 
 
 * The number of ships is variously given as sixty and eighty. 
 It was this disaster which the Spartan Hippocrates announced 
 in the famous dispatch, the very model of laconic writing, 
 which he sent on the death of his superior Mindarus, to the 
 Government at home. " We are defeated. Mindarus is dead. 
 The men are starving; we do not know what to do." 
 
THE lion's cub. 271 
 
 In the following year (409) he captured Chalcedon, 
 and in the next year again Byzantium. His opera- 
 tions, in fact, were attended by an almost uniform 
 success, and he received an unanimous welcome when 
 in May 407, after an absence of eight years, he 
 returned to Athens. His popularity rose to its height 
 when, about four months afterwards, he escorted the 
 sacred procession that annually made its way from 
 Athens to Eleusis, there to celebrate the Mysteries 
 of the " Mother of the Gods. " For seven years the 
 solemnity had been intermitted. The Lacedaemonian 
 garrison at Decelea, established, it will be remembered 
 at the suggestion of Alcibiades, constituted a danger 
 too formidable to be encountered, and the celebrants 
 had been transported by sea, with no small loss to 
 the dignity of the festival. Alcibiades now raised 
 the whole available force of the city, and took and 
 brought back the procession in safety. The Spartan 
 general did not choose to hazard an attack, and 
 Alcibiades enjoyed all the honours of a triumph. 
 
 A few days afterwards he left the city, never to 
 return. 
 
 We may be sure that below the apparent unani- 
 mity with which his return had been welcomed, there 
 was some concealed dissatisfaction. Alcibiades had 
 made too many enemies for this not to be the case. 
 Probably he added to their number during his brief 
 stay at Athens, for he had tJie temper in which 
 
272 THE lion's cub. 
 
 success and popularity infallibly result in insolence. 
 The hostile party soon found occasion for censure. 
 He had a magnificent armament under his command, 
 and he had accomplished nothing; he had even suf- 
 fered defeat. True, this defeat happened in his 
 absence, and was brought about by direct disobedience 
 to his orders, Antiochus, the second in command, 
 having risked the engagement which he had been ex- 
 pressly directed to avoid. But Alcibiades cannot be 
 wholly acquitted of blame, for Antiochus owed his 
 appointment to him, and had been put by him over 
 the heads of abler men. * The change of feeling at 
 home was rapid. Alcibiades was deprived of his 
 command, and thought it more prudent not to return 
 to the city. He left the fleet, and retired to a 
 strongly-fortified castle which he possessed Bisanthe, 
 on the coast of Thrace. 
 
 Little more remains to be told. He made an effort 
 to save the fleet, Athens' last hope, which the reckless 
 folly of the admirals was exposing to the attack of 
 the Spartans at (Egos-Potami. He had seen the 
 danger from his Thracian retreat, and warned the 
 officer in command. They bade him depart. * They, 
 not he, " they said, * were responsible. " A few days 
 afterwards his warnings were justified. Athens, her 
 
 * Plutarch tells ns that Antiochus owed his favour to having 
 caught a tame quail, which his patron had allowed to escape 
 while addressing the public Assembly. 
 
THE lion's cob. 273 
 
 last force destroyed, was at the mercy of her enemies. 
 The capture of the city in 404 was followed by the 
 establishment of an oligarchy, subservient to Spartan 
 influences. One of the first acts of the new govern- 
 ment was to pass a decree for the banishment of 
 Alcibiades (his exile had up to this time been 
 voluntary). No greater proof could have been given 
 that, in spite of his lack of principle, he was a citizen 
 who could have promoted the interests of Athens. 
 The Thirty Tyrants such was the name given to 
 the leaders of the new Government were entirely 
 under Spartan control, and to be condemned by them 
 was in its way a proof of patriotism. Bisanthe, now 
 that the Athenian power had disappeared, was no 
 longer a safe residence. With characteristic courage 
 and self-reliance, Alcibiades determined to try his 
 fortune with the Great King himself. Another 
 Athenian, not unlike to himself in character, had 
 tried that course with remarkable success, and what 
 had been achieved by Themistocles might be done 
 again. Accordingly he left Thrace, and made his 
 way to Pharnabazus, who would, he hoped, give him 
 a safe conduct for his journey to the Persian capital. 
 Pharnabazus received him with every appearance of 
 friendship ; but his enemies were at work. The 
 oligarchical party at Athens represented to Lysander 
 that banishment was not enough, the new order of 
 things would never be safe as long as Alcibiades 
 
 18 
 
274 THE LION*S CUB. 
 
 lived. Lysander, accordingly, sent a messenger to 
 Pharnabazus with instructions that his guest must 
 be disposed of, and the Satrap, who no longer had 
 two rival Greek powers to play oflF against each 
 other, had no alternative but to comply. The house 
 in which Alcibiades was sleeping was surrounded at 
 night by a body of Persian troops and set on fire. 
 He caught up in his left hand a cloak which he 
 wrapped round his head, and a dagger in his right. 
 The sight of him was sufficient to send his assailants 
 flying. Not a man ventured to come to close quarters 
 with him. Retreating to a distance, they showered 
 javelins and arrows on him. He was about forty- 
 five at the time of his death. According to another 
 account his life was sacrificed, not to political jealousy 
 but to private revenge. Neither account is impror 
 bable. He had done enough to make himself hated 
 and feared by the enemies of Athens, and his private 
 life was such as to rouse against him the most 
 furious resentments. 
 
 A review of his career makes us feel that the 
 epigrammatic summary put into the mouth of iEschy- 
 lus was eminently true. It would have been better 
 for the city if the * lion's cub ' had never been 
 reared in it; and yet his personal leadership was 
 almost invariably successful. His countrymen had 
 many reasons not to like him, and yet they did not 
 prosper without him. 
 
CHAPTER XXL 
 
 TEE WISEST OF MEN. 
 
 " TTTHEN we were at PotidaBa, " says Alcibiades, 
 T T singing the praises of Socrates to the joyous 
 company which he found at the house of the poet 
 Agathon, * if we were short of food not an uncommon 
 thing on a campaign there was no one to compare 
 with Socrates for the way he bore it, while at a 
 banquet, if he was compelled to drink, which he 
 never wanted to do, he outlasted everyone else; no 
 one ever saw Socrates tipsy. As to the way in 
 which he bore cold and the cold is terrible in that 
 country here is an example of what he did. Once 
 there was an exceedingly hard frost; no one went 
 out, or if he did, wrapped himself up in the strangest 
 fashion, and put every kind of covering on his feet, 
 but Socrates went barefoot through the ice, with 
 less discomfort than others felt for all their pre- 
 cautions to keep themselves warm.* 
 
 This is followed by an anecdote which reminds 
 i7 
 
276 THE WISEST OF MEN. 
 
 one curiously enough of the raptures of some mediaeval 
 saints. " Some idea occurred to him and he stood 
 trying to think it out. Failing to do this he would 
 not give it up, but still stood thinking. By this time 
 it was noon, and the men began to notice him. 
 'See!' said one to another, 'Socrates has something 
 in his head, and has been standing thinking it out 
 ever since the morning.' When it was evening, some 
 men from Ionia, having had their meal, took out 
 their mattresses to sleep in the cool it was summer 
 time and also to see whether he would stand through 
 the night. And he did stand till morning. Then he 
 saluted the sun, and went his way." 
 
 Another story of endurance concludes the " Dialogues 
 of the Banquet " from which these anecdotes are taken. 
 One Aristodemus tells the story. " I was overcome with 
 slumber and slept a long time, for it was the time 
 of the year when the nights are long. At daybreak, 
 when the cocks were beginning to crow, I woke 
 and found that some of the guests were asleep and 
 that others were gone, and that Aristophanes, Agathon, 
 and Socrates, who alone of all the company were 
 awake, were drinking out of a great cup which they 
 passed from left to right. Socrates was talking to 
 the other two; but what he said I do not remember, 
 for I had not heard the beginning, and besides, I 
 was somewhat drowsy ; but the chief point was this : 
 he compelled them to acknowledge that the same man 
 
THE WISEST OP MEN. 277 
 
 ought to write both tragedy and comedy Then they 
 too and they had not followed him very clearly 
 began to nod, and first Aristophanes fell asleep, and 
 then when it was now broad daylight Agathon. 
 Thereupon Socrates rose, composed them to sleep, 
 and went away to the Lyceum, where he washed. 
 The rest of the day he spent as usual, and went 
 home in the evening." 
 
 The power of enduring heat and cold, and still 
 more the possession of a brain which defies all 
 influences of strong drink, may not seem quite as 
 admirable to us as they did to the contemporaries of 
 Socrates. But he had other qualities which we may 
 agree with them in respecting. The virtue of military 
 courage he possessed in the highest degree. In a 
 skirmish before Potidaea he saved the life of Alci- 
 biades, who had been left wounded and helpless on 
 the field. On the disastrous day of Delium he was 
 one of a few infantry soldiers who preserved so firm 
 an attitude during all the dangers of a retreat that 
 the enemy did not venture to molest them. 
 
 And he had also in perfection, the rarer gift of 
 political courage. How he bore himself in the As- 
 sembly when after the battle of Arginusae the generals 
 were illegally condemned, has already been described.* 
 Then he was resisting at the imminent peril of his 
 life, an infuriated democracy. When Athens fell, 
 See Chapter XVIII. 
 
278 THE WISEST OF MEN. 
 
 and the democracy was overthrown, he offered the 
 same resolute resistance to an unscrupulous oligarchy. 
 The Thirty this was the name of the governing 
 body which the victorious Lysander had established 
 in Athens sent for him and four other citizens of 
 repute, and commissioned them to fetch from Salamis 
 a certain Leon, a political opponent whom they had 
 resolved to put out of the way. Socrates alone 
 among the five, refused to obey. 
 
 A less tragical story may be told in the words in 
 which Xenophon, a disciple of the philosopher, relates it. 
 
 "The Thirty having put to death many citizens, 
 and these not the least worthy, and having turned 
 many to evil courses, Socrates said: *It seems strange 
 to me that a herdsman should make the cattle that 
 he has in charge fewer in number and of worse 
 condition, and yet not confess that he is a bad 
 herdsman; and it seems yet stranger that one who 
 ruling a city causes the citizens to be fewer and 
 worse, does not take shame to himself and own that 
 he is a bad ruler.' Now Critias and Callicles being 
 among the Thirty, both hating and fearing Socrates, 
 had caused a law to be passed, that no one should 
 teach the art of reasoning. Therefore they sent for 
 Socrates, and showed him the law, and commanded 
 him not to talk with young men. 
 
 'Socrates. *May I ask a question if there is anything 
 m this law that I do not understand?' 
 
THE WISEST OF MEN. 279 
 
 Crifias. * Certainly.' 
 
 *S. 'I am quite ready to obey the law; but at 
 I don't wish to transgress through ignorance, I should 
 like to get some clear information on one point. Do 
 you think that this art of reasoning is on the side 
 of right or on the side of wrong that you bid me 
 have nothing to do with it ? If it is on the side of 
 right, then it is clear that I shall have to keep from 
 speaking right ; if it is on the side of wrong, then 
 surely I ought to try to speak right?' 
 
 'Callicles (in a rage). *As you are so ignorant, 
 Socrates, here is something for you that will be easier 
 to understand. We tell you that you are not to 
 talk to young men at all.' 
 
 */S>. *To avoid all doubt, tell me exactly up to 
 what age a man is a young man ! ' 
 
 'C. *For so long as he cannot sit on the Senate, 
 as not having come to years of discretion. So don't 
 converse with any man under thirty.' 
 
 *S. *If a man under thirty has something to sell, 
 may I converse with him?' 
 
 *C. *0f course you may about such things. But 
 your way, Socrates, is to ask questions about things 
 that you know all about. Don't ask such questions 
 any more.' 
 
 *S. *And if a young man should ask me where 
 Callicles is or where Critias is to be found, may I 
 speak to him?' 
 
280 THE WISEST OF MEN. 
 
 'C, *Yes, you may.' 
 
 *Critias. *But keep away, I tell you, from carpen- 
 ters and cobblers and smiths and such people ; you 
 must have talked them deaf by this time, I take it ! ' 
 
 <S. *And I must have nothing to say, I suppose, 
 about matters that I have always associated with 
 such talks, justice and piety and such like ! ' * 
 
 '^Critias. 'Yes, and nothing about herdsmen, or 
 you'll find that the cattle are made fewer by one more.' 
 
 It is clear from this, " adds the writer, " that 
 what Socrates had said about the herdsmen had been 
 reported to them and had caused their wrath." 
 
 Socrates' external appearance is well known to 
 us. It was as unlike as possible to the Greek ideal 
 of beauty. His face was of the coarsest type, with 
 snub nose and projecting forehead, resembling a 
 Silenus far more than an Apollo. So far, then, we 
 are able to form a tolerably clear notion of the man. 
 He was a sturdy, courageous person, abstaining as 
 far as possible from political life, but inflexibly honest 
 and truthful when circumstances compelled him to 
 act. t Of his character as a teacher it is impossible 
 
 * It was the eonstant habit of Socrates to illustrate his 
 teaching from the common occupations of life. 
 
 t His appearance in the Assembly after the battle of Ar- 
 ginusae in the character of one of the presiding officers, was 
 not a matter of choice on his part. The tribes took it in turn 
 to fulfil this function, and the presiding officers were selected 
 out of them by lot. 
 
THE WISEST OF MEN. 281 
 
 to speak within any limits of space which I can 
 command, nor, indeed, is the subject such as belongs 
 to the scope of this hpok. Nevertheless, a few 
 details of prominent points may be given. Socrates 
 was the son of a sculptor, and seems for the first 
 half of his life (which extended to nearly seventy 
 years) to have followed the same profession. A group 
 of the Graces was shown to Pausanius when he 
 visited Athens in the second half of the second 
 century A.D., as the work of the philosopher. At 
 the age of thirty-five he gave up this occupation, and 
 thereafter devoted himself to teaching. Unlike his 
 contemporaries, such men as Gorgias of Leontini, 
 and Protagoras, he did not give his instructions in 
 a school or lecture-room, he did not pretend to have 
 any regular following of disciples, and he steadfastly 
 refused to receive any payment for his instruction. 
 He spent his whole day in the streets and .squares 
 of the city, talking with any passers-by who might 
 be willing to answer his questions, and ready to 
 answer any questions that might be put to him. 
 
 His method was eminently conversational. He did 
 not lecture; he talked. With a playful allusion to 
 the profession of a midwife which his mother had 
 followed, he was accustomed to say that he helped 
 to bring the thoughts and beliefs of others to the 
 birth. The subjects of his discourse were of an 
 eminently practical kind. In the speculations of 
 
282 THE WISEST OF MEN. 
 
 physical philosophy speculations which before his 
 time had largely occupied the thoughts of philoso- 
 phers he took little intertst. Questions concerning 
 conduct, about justice and injustice, right and wrong, 
 in states and in individuals, were the chief topics 
 which he would discuss. His method may be best 
 described by the word "cross-examination." He 
 questioned his hearers, using commonly a somewhat 
 circuitous route, till he compelled them to confess 
 that their notions were confused and contradictory. 
 His great maxim was * Know thyself." He stripped 
 off, or rather he made those who talked with him 
 strip off for themselves, the veils of self-deception 
 which so commonly hide a man's real self from him. 
 This was the meaning of his favourite doctrine, that 
 knowledge is in closest connection with virtue. To 
 exhort to virtue seemed to him useless, unless he could 
 make a man look at himself in his true light, get 
 rid of all false notions, all self-deceptions. We may 
 doubt, indeed, whether a man will necessarily do right 
 because he has knowledge of what is right, and of 
 how he is himself affected towards right, but this 
 need not prevent us from acknowledging the sub- 
 stantial soundness of the Socratic method. 
 
 A method and a teaching so novel attracted, it is 
 needless to say, much attention. Not a few strangers 
 came to Athens with the one purpose of making 
 themselves acquainted with it. Among the citizens 
 
THE WISEST OF MEN. 283 
 
 there was probably no more familiar figure. But it 
 does not follow that because he was well known he 
 was popular: even in his pupil Xenophon's account 
 of his extraordinary hardihood, we have a hint of 
 something like jealousy among his comrades. His 
 fellow-soldiers thought that he looked 5own upon 
 them. Then again, though he was not a political 
 partisan, his inflexible honesty brought him, as we 
 have already seen, into collision with both the aris- 
 tocratic and the democratic factions. It is a fact, 
 too, that prominent persons do not conciliate favour 
 by standing aloof in the marked way that was 
 characteristic of Socrates, from politics. A strong 
 partisan at least acquires the favour of his own side; a 
 neutral is very commonly disliked or suspected by both. 
 
 A special cause of unpopularity may be found in 
 the philosopher's connection with unpopular statesmen, 
 notably with Alcibiades and Critias. Both had been 
 his pupils. The latter, especially by the cruelty and 
 injustice of his rule while he was the leading spirit of 
 the Thirty, had made himself hated as an Athenian had 
 never been hated before. Happily for himself he 
 fell on the field of battle, but the memory of his 
 deeds was treasured against all who in the popular 
 judgment were connected with him. 
 
 It was also notorious to all who were in the habit 
 of listening to his talk, and this description must 
 have included pretty nearly every citizen of Athens, 
 
284 THE WISEST OF MEN. 
 
 that Socrates was in the habit of uttering very 
 undemocratic sentiments. He was no believer in the 
 inborn capacity of the multitude for good government. 
 It was his conviction and his convictions he never- 
 hesitated to express in the most decided way that 
 a man mdst learn how to rule, if he is to rule well, 
 just as he must learn how to steer a ship, if he is 
 to become a good pilot, and to make shoes if he is 
 to be a good cobbler. The spectacle 
 
 *0f those who know not ruling those who know 
 
 To their own harm" 
 
 was hateful to him. It is true that he might have 
 been found, if questioned himself, to believe that 
 a rich man or even a professional politician might 
 be as ignorant of the true art of ruling as the 
 most ignorant of the "Sailor mob"* which so often 
 swayed the decisions of the Athenian Assembly ; but 
 this belief had not so many opportunities of making 
 itself evident. The application of the Socratic theory of 
 the relation between knowledge and politics was obvious. 
 Curiously enough at the same time the philosopher 
 was incurring the suspicious dislike of the party that 
 was most opposed to democratic rule. Aristophanes 
 represented the conservative element in Athenian 
 thought, and to Aristophanes Socrates seemed a 
 dangerous innovator in religion and morals. The 
 
 * Nautikos ochlos, as it was called in the language of the 
 day, and always identified with the extreme democratic party. 
 
 I 
 
THE WISEST OP MEN. 285 
 
 comedy of the * Clouds, * in which the poet attacks 
 the philosopher by name, brings the two charges 
 most distinctly against him. Socrates is represented 
 as telling , his disciples that new gods rule in the 
 place of the old, or rather, for that is the practical 
 upshot of it all, that there are no gods at all, and 
 it is from the inspiration of his teaching that per- 
 sonified Injustice prevails in argument over Justice, 
 her baffled and dispirited rival. The * Clouds, " it is 
 true, wa? put upon the stage as early a the year 
 427 B.C. and Socrates was not accused till 399. 
 Nevertheless, the calumny, for it was nothing else, 
 was working against him, and was not the least 
 effective of the causes which brought about his con- 
 demnation. Finally there must have been a consi- 
 derable number of personal enemies, made enemies 
 by the relentless cross-examination to which this 
 teacher subjected every one with whom he came 
 into contact. Every self-convicted impostor, made 
 to confess his own incapacity and ignorance, to the 
 amusement of a listening crowd, must have treasured 
 up angry recollections of his exposure against the 
 teacher who had exposed the vanity of his pretensions. 
 Mr. Grote also thinks, and, it must be owned, 
 with a good deal of reason, that Socrates when 
 brought before his judges did not wish to escape. 
 He was an old man ; his means of living were pre- 
 carious ; his mode of life would have become impos- 
 
liob THE WISEST OF MEN. 
 
 sible in the face of the growing infirmities of age. 
 He did, indeed, in a way exert himself to procure an 
 acquittal ; that he would have welcomed, but rather, 
 we may be sure, for the sake of his judges than of 
 himself. He used, it is true, no persuasion, and he 
 condescended to no artifices, but he stated his case 
 fairly and in such a way as must, we cannot but 
 think, have carried conviction to the mind of an 
 unprejudiced hearer. But when the adverse verdict 
 was pronounced, and it was pronounced by a major- 
 ity of six votes only, * he may be said to have 
 deliberately set himself to bring down upon himself 
 the severest possible sentence. 
 
 * The words of Diogenes Laertius taken literally (he was 
 condemned by two hundred and eighty-one votes more than the 
 votes for acquittal) would mean that there was a majority of two 
 hundred and eighty-one against him. But Plato, in the "Apology of 
 Socrates" (the defence which he puts into the mouth of his teacher 
 on the occasion of his trial), says that the majority was not greater 
 than five or six, so that if three judges had voted otherwise than 
 they did, an acquittal would have been the result. It seems better 
 therefore to conclude that the adverse majority was two hundred 
 and eighty-one and the favourable minority two hundred and 
 seventy-six. The total number of five hundred and fifty-seven, 
 allowing for some, who would very probably be neutral, putting in 
 votes marked neither for acquittal nor for condemnation, is very 
 probable. The normal number of a court was five hundred but 
 this was never present, some of the members being absent from 
 various causes, and some places being commonly vacant. On 
 important occasions two courts sometimes sat together. 
 
THE WISEST OP MEN. 287 
 
 It was the somewhat strange practice of an Athenian 
 court, when the verdict of " guilty * had been pro- 
 nounced, to require the prosecutor to assess the 
 penalty which he considered would meet the case. 
 The condemned was required to do the same. In 
 the case of Socrates the prosecutor demanded the 
 penalty of death; the prisoner, had he been anxious 
 to escape this fate, would have mentioned something 
 that would have satisfied, not indeed his irreconcilable 
 enemies, but those who had voted without any very 
 strong motive. Banishment, imprisonment, even a 
 heavy fine, would have sufficed. Socrates did nothing 
 of the kind. He began by saying that if he had got 
 his proper deserts the people would have voted him 
 a public maintenance in what we may call Govern- 
 ment House. * He went on to say that he had no 
 money, and that therefore it was useless for him to 
 propose a fine. Nevertheless, as his friends were 
 urgent with him to propose something, and were 
 willing to find the money, he would name the sum 
 of five minas or about .iE20 of our money. This 
 was a calculated affront to the court, and, as there 
 was no alternative choice other than the penalties 
 named, necessarily resulted in a sentence of death. 
 
 The Prytaneum, or Town Hall, in which the oflBces of 
 Government were situated, and in which henefactors to the 
 city, distinguished generals, and others who had done good 
 service were maintained at the public expense. 
 
CHAPTER XXn. 
 
 TEE WILLING PRISONES. 
 
 ^PHE trial of Socrates took place early in May. 
 1 It would have been followed almost immediately 
 by his execution but for a happy ordering of events, to 
 which we owe what may well be called the most 
 significant and beautiful of his utterances. On the 
 day before that of his condemnation, the priest of 
 Apollo had put the sacred garland on the stern of 
 the ship which was to sail to Delos, carrying the 
 embassy which Athens sent year by year to take 
 part in the festival of the Delian Apollo. In the 
 interval between the departure and the return of this 
 vessel', commonly a period of thirty days, no con- 
 demned person could be put to death. The time was 
 spent by the philosopher in converse with his friends, 
 who seem to have been permitted to have free access 
 to his cell. Two of these conversations have been 
 recorded by Plato. It is impossible to say how far 
 we have the actual words of Socrates. It is pro- 
 
 I 
 
SOCRATES. 
 From a Bust in the Villa Albani (near Naples). 
 
THE WILLING PRISONER. 289 
 
 bable that the arguments have received considerable 
 accessions from the mind of the reporter, but that 
 the narrative is a fairly exact representation of the 
 truth. 
 
 The Dialogue to which the name of Crito has 
 been given, took place in the prison before the return 
 of the Sacred Ship. Crito was one of the wealthiest 
 men in Athens. He had been accustomed to con- 
 tribute liberally to the master's support; he was 
 among tlie friends who volunteered to find the money 
 for the fine which Socrates proposed as the alternative 
 punishment to death; and he had now been using 
 his money to smooth the way for the prisoner's 
 escape. The conversation was something to this 
 effect. 
 
 Socrates, * Why so early, Crito? It is not morn- 
 ing yet? " 
 
 Onto. " No, it isn't.* 
 
 S, "What is the time then?* 
 
 C "Just before dawn." 
 
 S. I am surprised that the jailor let you in. " 
 
 C. He knows me well, because I have been 
 here so often to see you, and he has had something 
 from me too." 
 
 S, " Have you been here a long time? * 
 
 C. * Fairly long." 
 
 S. * Why did you not wake me then?* 
 
 C. Well, S')crates, to tell the truth, I should 
 
 19 
 
290 THE WILLING PRISONEB. 
 
 not have cared to be awake in such a plight as this. 
 I was astonished to see how quietly you were sleep- 
 ing, and it was on purpose that I forbore to wake 
 you, for I want your time to go as pleasantly as it 
 may. Often before have I admired the easy way in 
 which you took things, but never so much as I do 
 at present, so easily, so gently do you take your 
 trouble." 
 
 S. " Surely, Crito, it would be absurd for a man 
 at my age to make any trouble about dying." 
 
 C, "Well, Socrates, others just as old as you, 
 for all their age, are greatly troubled when they find 
 themselves in such a plight as yours.* 
 
 S, " May be. But what made you come so early ? ' 
 
 C. *I have brought some news, not bad news 
 for you, Socrates, I can easily understand, but to 
 me and to your other friends as bad as could be." 
 
 S. * What do you mean ? Has the ship come 
 from Del OS?" 
 
 C, *It has not actually come, but it will come 
 to-day. So I understand from some people who have 
 come from Sunium * and left it there. Their news 
 means that it will come to-day, and that to-morrow 
 will be the last day of your life." 
 
 8, Let us hope it is all for the best. God must 
 
 Snnium, now Cape Colonna (ho called from the ruins of the 
 Temple of Athen6 which once crowned the promontory) was 
 ahout thirty miles S.E. of Athena. 
 
THE WILLING PRISONER. 291 
 
 order it as He thinks fit: still I do not think that 
 the ship will come to-day." 
 
 C. * What makes you think so? * 
 
 8. 'I will tell you; you say I must die the day 
 after it returns.' 
 
 C. 'So I am told by the authorities." 
 
 8, Then I think that it won't come the day that 
 is now dawning, but on the day after. My reason 
 is a certain dream that I have had to-night, and just 
 a little while ago. It seems very likely that you 
 did quite right not to wake me.* 
 
 C. "What was the dream?" 
 
 8, *I saw in my sleep a fair woman dressed in 
 white apparel, coming up to me. She called me by 
 my name and said, '0 Socrates, on the third day 
 hence thou shalt win unto deep-foamed Phthias' 
 strand.'" * 
 
 C. " What an absurd dream, Socrates ! " 
 
 8. *But quite plain, I think." 
 
 C. 'Very plain indeed. But, my dear Socrates, 
 do listen to me and consent to save your life." 
 
 Crito then proceeds to urge various arguments 
 upon the philosopher. People will think very badly 
 of him and his friends if they don't save their 
 
 * The words are taken from the speech of Achilles to the 
 envoys of Agamemnon (Iliad IX.), but are altered from the 
 first person to the second. Achilles tbreatens to leave the 
 host, and says that it wiU take him but two days to get home. 
 
292 THE WILLING PRISONER. 
 
 master's life, seeing that this could be done at no 
 very great expenditure of money, by bribing jailors 
 and such people. Of course they would be running 
 a certain risk in doing so ; but this they were prepared 
 for; it was only* their duty to encounter it, and, 
 after all it would be no great matter to buy the 
 silence of the informers, as they had bought the 
 connivance of the prison officials. Besides, there were 
 foreigners, Simmias for instance, who was a Theban, 
 quite ready to undertake this part of the business, 
 and these would not be exposed to any of the danger 
 that an Athenian citizen would incur. As for Socrates 
 himself, he would be doing wrong if he neglected 
 the opportunity of saving his life. He was doing 
 just what his enemies wished. Then he must consider 
 his children. Was he right in leaving them desolate? 
 A father owed a duty to those who owed their life 
 to him. And he must decide at once. He must 
 escape that very night. If he did not, it would be 
 too late. 
 
 Socrates is ready with his answer to these argu- 
 ments, and the sum of it was this: Is it right or 
 is it wrong for me to make my escape if I can? 
 By a bold image he personifies the laws of his 
 country, and imagines them as addressing him. 
 *What are you thinking of doing, Socrates?" they 
 are supposed to say to him. " What complaint have 
 you against us, that you go about to destroy us, 
 
THE WILLING PRISONEB. 293 
 
 for the man who ventures on the strength of his 
 own private opinion to upset a solemn decision of 
 the courts, is destroying the laws by which the state 
 subsists ? You owe to us your existence, your father, 
 your mother; have you any fault to find with the 
 marriage laws which brought them together ? ' 
 He could but answer, " No. " " Have you any, " they 
 continued, " with the laws about the rearing and educa- 
 tion of children, to which you owe your teaching in 
 liberal arts, and your bodily training?' These, too, 
 he could but acknowledge to be good. " Then again, 
 a child must not return evil for evil to father or 
 mother, if he is struck he must not strike back, 
 but must put up with what he has to endure. Now 
 your country is infinitely more worthy of rev- 
 erence than your parents. How much more, then, you 
 must yield to her if she is angry with you, 
 failing to persuade her, you must yield to her, do 
 what she bids you, and suffer what she puts upon 
 you ; if she bids you go to battle, you must obey, and 
 suffer wounds and even death, sooner than leave 
 your place in the ranks. And the court of justice 
 must be as the battle-field to you. You must submit 
 to what your countiy puts upon you." This it must 
 be allowed, is a very cogent argument; and we 
 cannot doubt, so thoroughly is it in accord with his 
 usual teaching, that Socrates was perfectly sincere 
 in using it. But it is no less clear that the deter- 
 
294 THE WILLING PRISONER. 
 
 mination to remain and submit to his sentence was, 
 we may even say, as much a matter of inclination 
 as of duty. The safe and comfortable home which 
 Crito offered him in Thessaly, did not attract him. 
 If he did not live in Athens he would not live any- 
 where. This is brought out very clearly in what the 
 Laws are represented as saying by way of enforcing 
 their argument. 
 
 And you, Socrates, would be more to blame, 
 if you were to do what we are thinking of than any 
 other Athenian would be. For we have abundant 
 proofs that we and this city of ours have always 
 been very much to your mind. Surely you would 
 not have tarried in Athens so much more than any- 
 one else, if you had not taken more pleasure than 
 anyone else in it. You never left the city for any 
 festival or games except it was once to the festival 
 of the Isthmus; you never went any whither, except 
 it might be on military service; for no other kind 
 of cause were you ever absent, such as takes most 
 men abroad; you never had a desire to see any 
 other city than this, or make acquaintance with any 
 other laws. We and our city were always sufficient 
 for you. Remember, too, that at your trial you might, 
 if you had so wished, have proposed the penalty of 
 banishment. What you now think of doing against the 
 will of your country, you might then have done with 
 her consent. But you made fine professions then that 
 
THE WILLING PRISONER. 295 
 
 you did not refuse to die, if so it must be, and that 
 
 you preferred death to banishment. Of these profes- 
 sions you are not now ashamed, you take no account 
 of us, but you want to do what the most worthless 
 slave might do, you want to run away." 
 
 All this no doubt expresses the very inmost heart 
 of Socrates. It was not only the dishonour of a life 
 purchased at the cost of all his professions and prin- 
 ciples that he refused to submit to, it was also the 
 intolerable ennui of an existence that was to be 
 passed anywhere but in the intellectual atmosphere 
 of Athens. Mr. Grote thinks, as has been said, that 
 no other city would have endured him so long; we 
 may perhaps, add the converse, and say that he could 
 have endured no other. 
 
CHAPTER XXm 
 
 TEE CUP OF HEMLOCK. 
 
 Fa play now almost forgotten, the Cato* of 
 Joseph Addison, the hero, who has been fortifying 
 himself in his purpose of suicide by a perusal of 
 Plato's dialogue of Phaedo, begins his great soliloquy 
 with the words: 
 
 It must be so; Plato, thou reasonest well I* 
 
 It is quite possible, however, that a modem reader 
 of the Phaedo may be disappointed in this same 
 reasoning. The arguments in favour of the Immor- 
 tality of the Soul are scarcely convincing; some of 
 the objections are but imperfectly answered. Never- 
 theless, it is easy to understand why the Dialogue has 
 held its place as the greatest of all pre-Christian 
 statements of the doctrine. But this greatness lies, 
 not so much in the reasoning of the abstract question 
 as in the pictures which it draws, with an unsurpassed 
 
I 
 
 PLATO. 
 
 From a Hronze Rust at Naples. 
 
THE CUP OF HEMLOCK. 297 
 
 literary force, of the practical faith of the philosopher 
 as he stood face to face with death. It is a picture 
 manifestly drawn from the life, and the cheerful, 
 unfaltering confidence which it portrays, is far more 
 convincing than any argument, even when this is 
 reinforced by the dialectical subtlety of the reporter. 
 Phaedo, the disciple from whom the Dialogue takes 
 its name, describes his feelings thus : " As for myself, * 
 he says to his friend Epicrates, who had been asking 
 for details of the last scene, "I was affected by what 
 I saw and heard in a quite surprising way. I could 
 not feel the compassion that might seem natural to 
 one who was present at the death of a dear friend. 
 The man seemed absolutely happy, to judge from 
 his manner and his talk, so fearless, so noble was 
 his bearing in the face of death. I saw in him one 
 who, if ever a man did so, was passing into the other 
 world under divine protection and once arrived would 
 assuredly be happy. The result was this. There 
 was no question of compassion, as there might have 
 been in the presence of so great a sorrow; on the 
 other hand, we could not feel our wonted pleasure 
 in our philosopher's talk ; for, indeed, our talk was 
 })hilosophical. Our condition was the strangest pos- 
 sible. There was a most unusual mixture of pleasure 
 on the one hand, and pain on the other, pain because 
 we knew that he was soon to die. We were laughin^^ 
 at one time and weeping at another ; no one more 
 
298 THE CUP OF HEMLOCJK. 
 
 SO than Apollodorus.* You know the man and his ways. 
 After enumerating the disciples who had been 
 present at the last scene, Phaedo goes on to describe 
 what had been done, and said: 
 
 " We came that day earlier than usual, for on the 
 day before we had heard on leaving the prison, that 
 the ship from Delos had arrived. Accordingly, we 
 agreed among ourselves to come as early as possible. 
 The porter who was accustomed to open the door, 
 told us to wait a while, and not go in till he bade 
 us. 'The Eleven,' he said, 'are taking the chains 
 ofif Socrates, and notifying to him that he is to die 
 to-day.' Before long the man came out to us again 
 and bade us follow him. Going into the chamber, 
 we found Socrates just quit of his chains, and 
 Xanthippe, with his little child in her arms, sitting 
 by him. As soon as she saw us, she cried out, 
 saying the sort of things that women do say, as, for 
 instance, *0 Socrates, this is the last time that your 
 friends will speak to you, or you to them.' Socrates 
 looked at Crito, and said, 'Crito, let someone take 
 this poor woman home.' Thereupon some of Crito's 
 attendants led her away wailing and beating her breast. " 
 After this the philosopher discussed various topics, 
 as the close union of pleasure and pain, suggested 
 by the sensation of relief when his fetters were 
 
 * He was an emotional, excitable person, not possessed of 
 any g""eat mental power, but profoundly attached to Socratea 
 
THE CUP OF HEMLOCK. 299 
 
 removed, and his employment in prison, which had 
 been turning iEsop's fables into verse. * 
 
 He sent an ironical message to a certain Euenus, 
 who, he said, was to follow him as quickly as pos- 
 sible ; *for I must go," he said, "to-day; the 
 Athenians will have it so. " Before long the con- 
 versation turned to the subject of Immortality. I 
 shall not attempt to analyse the reasoning, but shall 
 hasten on to the concluding scene, first giving, 
 however, the final portion of Socrates' description of 
 the rewards and punishments of the other world. 
 
 "When the dead are come to the place whither 
 the divine guide conveys each separate soul, first 
 they that have lived after a holy and noble fashion 
 are divided from them that have lived otherwise ; 
 and they that are judged to have lived neither ill 
 nor well, going to the river Acheron, mount the 
 carriages there provided for them, and so are con- 
 veyed to the Great Lake. There dwelling they 
 suffer cleansing and expiation, paying the penalty 
 for such things as they have wrongly done, and 
 receiving on the other hand, due reward for such 
 things as they have done well, each according to 
 his deserts. As for such as seem to be past all 
 
 * An employment enjoined by a divine intimation, according 
 to the philosopher's account. He lived habitually under the 
 sense of a supernatural guidance. This did not suggest action, 
 but frequently forbade what he had intended to follow. 
 
 h 
 
300 THE CUP OF HEMLOCK. 
 
 healing, by reason of the greatness of their trans- 
 gressions, having committed many and great rob- 
 beries of holy things, or committed many murders 
 against justice and law, these the attending Fate 
 casts into the pit of Tartarus never more to come 
 out thence. As for those who may be judged to 
 have sinned sins, great indeed, but such as may be 
 cleansed, as doing violence in the heat of anger to 
 father or mother, or slaying any man in the like 
 fashion, they must needs fall into the same pit, but 
 having so fallen a wave carries them out of it every 
 year, the manslayers by the stream of Wailing, and 
 the parricides and matricides by the stream of Burn- 
 ing Fire, and when being so carried, they come 
 over against the lake of Acheron, then they cry out 
 aloud, calling to them whom they have slain or 
 wronged, and beseeching them that they will suffer 
 them to come out into the lake, and will so receive 
 them. If they persuade them, then they come forth, 
 and are quit of their troubles ; if they persuade them 
 not, then they are carried back into the pit and from 
 thence again into the rivers. And this must be till 
 they persuade them whom they have wronged, this 
 being the penalty laid upon them by their judges. 
 As for them that have lived with exceeding holiness, 
 they being set free from these earthly dwelling- 
 places, from which they come forth as from a prison- 
 house, pass to fair habitations above. And such of 
 
THE CUP OF HEMLOCK. 301 
 
 these as have duly cleansed themselves by philosophy, 
 these live wholly without bodies for the time to 
 come, and come to habitations yet fairer, such as it 
 would be hard and beyond the opportunity of this 
 present time to describe. Here, then, there is cause 
 sufficient why we should do our best to keep fast 
 hold in this present life of virtue and wisdom, seeing 
 that the reward is noble and the hope great. Verily 
 a man may have good confidence concerning his soul, 
 who has put away from him all pleasures that con- 
 cern the body as things that concern him not, but 
 by temperance and courage and freedom and truth 
 has made himself ready for his passage into the 
 unseen world, that he is prepared to go when fate 
 shall call him. 
 
 *As for me," he went on, 'fate is now calling 
 me, as they say in a play. It is time for me to go 
 to the bath. It is well to do this before I die that 
 the women may not have the trouble of washing me 
 when I am dead." 
 
 * It is well, Socrates, " said Cebes. * But tell us, is 
 there anything you would have us do for your chil- 
 dren or in any other matter?" 
 
 *I have nothing more to say," he replied, *do 
 that for yourselves that I have bidden you, and you 
 will do all that is best for me and mine, whether 
 you now promise or no. But if you do it not, then 
 whatever you may promise, you will fail in your 
 
302 THE CUP OF HEMLOCK. 
 
 perfonnance.* 'We will do our best,* said Cebes, 
 but how are we to bury you?" 
 
 "Bury me just as you .please, that is if you can 
 catch me, and if I do not altogether escape from you." 
 
 " Then with a quiet laugh and a look at us, he said : 
 *Dear friends, I cannot persuade Crito here that 1 
 who am now talking to you am Socrates. He thinks 
 that that which he will soon see lying dead before 
 him is Socrates, and asks, forsooth, how he is to bury 
 me. Now, I have been long trying to convince you 
 that when I shall have drunk the poison I shall not 
 be with you any more, but shall depart to some 
 happy place. He thinks that this is all foolish talking 
 on my part, meant to give comfort both to you and 
 to myself. Now I want you to give to Crito just 
 the opposite guarantee to that which he gave the 
 court. He guaranteed that I would stay. Do you 
 guarantee that I shall not stay when I am dead, but 
 shall depart. So he will take the matter more easily, 
 and when he sees my body burnt or buried may not 
 be greatly troubled as if I had suffered some grievous 
 loss. Do, Crito, what you think best, and what is 
 customary in this matter.' 
 
 * Saying this he left us, going into an adjoining 
 room where he was to take his bath. Crito followed 
 him, bidding us remain where we were. So we 
 remained, now talking to each other about what had 
 been said, and thinking it over, and then conversing 
 
THE CUP OP HEMLOCK. 303 
 
 about our loss, for it seemed to us as if we were 
 about to lose a father, and that we should be orphans 
 for the rest of our days. When he had finished 
 his bath, his children were brought to him; he had 
 two that were quite young and one grown up. The 
 women of his family also came. He talked to them 
 in Crito's presence and told them what he wanted 
 them to do. Then he sent the women and children 
 away, and came out to us. It was now nearly sunset, 
 for he had been a long time away. Then he came 
 and sat down, saying but little. After this came 
 the servant of the Eleven, and stood by his side. 
 ' I shall not have to complain of you,' said the man, 
 'what I have to complain of others, that they fall 
 into a rage, and curse me, when at the command of 
 the magistrates I tell them that they must drink the 
 poison. I have always found you during the time 
 when you have been here, the very noblest and 
 gentlest and best man of all that have ever come 
 into this place. And now I am quite sure that you 
 are not angry with me, but as you know who are 
 to blame, with them. You know what I come for: 
 cheer up, and try to bear what has to be borne as 
 well as you can.' So speaking he burst into tears, 
 and turned away, and went out. Socrates looked at 
 him and said, *You, too, must cheer up; I will do 
 what you say!' Then turning to us, he said, 
 *How courteous the man is! All the time he has 
 
 h 
 
304 THE CUP OF HEMLOCK. 
 
 come and sometimes talked with me, and has been 
 the best of friends. And now see, how genuinelj 
 sorry he is! But come, Crito; let us do what he says, 
 let someone bring the poison, if it has been pounded ; 
 if not, let the man pound it!' 'But/ said Crito, 
 *I think, Socrates, that the sun is still on the hills, 
 and is not yet set. I know that others have put 
 off drinking the poison till as late as possible ; and alter 
 the message has been brought to them, they have 
 dined and drunk bountifully. Anyhow, there is no 
 hurry. There is plenty of time!* 'They are quite 
 right,' replied Socrates, *from their point of view; 
 they think that by so doing they will get some 
 advantage. But I shall be equally right in not 
 doing 80. For I think that I get no advantage by 
 drinking the cup an hour or so later, but shall only 
 make myself ridiculous, clinging to life. Pray, go 
 and do as I say ! ' When Crito heard this he nodded 
 to the slave that stood by him, and the slave went 
 out, and after a while, came back bringing the 
 attendant who had to administer the poison, which 
 he carried ready pounded in a cup. When Socrates 
 saw it, he said, ' Very good, my man ; as you know 
 all about these things, tell me what I ought to do.' 
 'Only this,' said the man, 'When you have drunk 
 it, walk about, till you find your legs growing heavy; 
 then lie down.' And so saying he reached out the 
 cup to Socrates. He took it very quietly. He did 
 
THE CUP OF HEMLOCK. 805 
 
 not tremble, or change colour, or expression, but 
 knitting his brow, as his habit was, said to the man, 
 ' What do you say about the draught ? Might one 
 pour out a libation to anyone?* *Well,' said he, 
 'we mix just so much as we think the proper 
 quantity to drink.' * I understand,' answered Socra- 
 tes, 'still, I suppose one may, indeed one ought, to 
 pray to the Gods that my change of abode from this 
 place to that may be for good. Verily I do pray 
 it. May it be so!' So speaking he drank off the 
 hemlock as easily and cheerfully as a man could. 
 
 " But when we saw him drinking, and the cup 
 empty, my tears came in a flood, yes, in spite of 
 myself ; 30 I covered my face and wept. Nor could 
 Crito control himself. As for Apollodorus, he had 
 never ceased weeping all the time, and now he burst 
 out into such a passion of grief that we all broke 
 lown, all, that is, except Socrates. 'What are you 
 about, my good friends?' said he. *This is why I 
 sent the women away, lest they should do anything 
 absurd; for I have always heard that a man ought 
 to die in peace. Be quiet, I beseech you, and control 
 yourselves.' Then for very shame we restrained 
 our tears. He, meanwhile, had been walking about, 
 and when he felt his legs growing heavy, he lay 
 down on his back, for the man told him so to do. 
 After a while the attendant who administered the 
 poison looked at his feet and legs, and pressing one 
 
 20 
 
306 THE CUP OF HEMLOCK. 
 
 of his feet with much force, asked him if he felt 
 anything. *No,' said Socrates. After this the man 
 felt his ankles, and so, going upwards, showed us 
 how he was growing cold and stiff. Socrates himself 
 said that when the coldness should reach his heart, 
 then he should die. And when it reached the ab- 
 domen, he uncovered his face, for he had covered 
 it, and said, and these were the last words that he 
 uttered, *Crito, we owe a cock to ^sculapius. See 
 that you pay it and do not forget.' 'It shall be 
 done,' said Crito. 'Is there anything else you have 
 to say ?' but he made no answer. A short time after 
 the attendant uncovered his face, and we saw that 
 the eyes were fixed. When Crito saw this, he closed 
 the mouth and the eyea.' 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 TEE ONE HERO OF THEBESk 
 
 THE Boeotians were proverbial, at least among their 
 Athenian neighbours, for sensuality and stupidity. 
 " They cultivate, " says Cornelius Nepos, " strength of 
 body rather than keenness of wit." The reproach was 
 not wholly undeserved, though there were brilliant 
 exceptions to the rule, in Hesiod, the earliest 
 of the didactic poets of Greece, in the illustrious 
 Pindar, and in Corinna, whom her contemporaries 
 are said to have preferred even to Pindar himself. 
 The political record of the people certainly excites 
 no admiration. A certain stolid courage they un- 
 doubtedly possessed, but it was not always employed 
 on the right side. In the Persian war, as we have 
 seen, Thebes exerted herself with what we may 
 fairly call a malignant energy against the cause of 
 Greece. Her conduct to Plataea was again, to say 
 the least, wanting in generosity. On the whole, 
 Thebes may be said to have fallen below the stan- 
 
308 THE ONE HERO OP THEBES. 
 
 dard, itself not very high, of rectitude and honour 
 attained by the Greek States. The cause of this 
 failure may probably be found, not so much in any 
 national defect, as in the singular want of able 
 leaders which, with one conspicuous exception, is 
 observable throughout the whole of her history. It 
 is this exception which is to be the subject of this 
 chapter. 
 
 Epaminondas, son of Polymnis, was born about 
 the year 419 B.C. He belonged to a noble house 
 which circumstances had combined to impoverish. * 
 He early manifested a taste very rare among his 
 countrymen for the study of philosophy and letters, 
 and the circumstances of the time enabled him to 
 cultivate it. The supremacy of Sparta, after the 
 conclusion of the Peloponnesian War, led to a re- 
 action in Boeotia, in favour of their Athenian neigh- 
 bours. The relations between the two States became 
 friendly, and Epaminondas was able to avail himself 
 
 * The Theban nobility claimed descent from the Spartoi, a 
 claim which is as grotesque as that of the Roman family of Lamia, 
 which traced its pedigree to Lamus, the Cannibal King of the 
 Lsestrygons. Cadmus, the founder of Thebes, according to the 
 legend, was bidden by Apollo to sow the teeth of a monstrous 
 dragon, which he had slain. (A similar incident occurs in the 
 legend of Jason.) These teeth produced a crop of armed men, 
 who fell upon each other with such fury that five only sur 
 vived. These five were regarded as the progenitors of the 
 noble families of Thebes. 
 
THE ONE HERO OF THEBES. 309 
 
 of facilities for learning, which at an earlier 
 time he could not have enjoyed. Socrates, he may 
 well have seen and heard, though we do not hear 
 of his having been enrolled among his disciples. 
 That he attended the lectures of one of Socrates' 
 most prominent followers, Cebes* the Theban, we 
 know. He learnt also from another disciple of 
 Socrates, Spintharus of Tarentum. So admirable was 
 his attitude as a disciple, so indefatigable was he as 
 a listener, so averse to making any display of \ds 
 own abilities, that Spintharus paid him the empha- 
 tic compliment : * I have never met with anyone who 
 understood more or talked less." 
 
 The pursuit of philosophy did not hinder Epami- 
 nondas from acquiring the other accomplishments 
 suited to his age. He made himself a proficient in 
 athletic exercises. But it was observed that he 
 specially affected such as tended to give agility to 
 the frame. Boxing, the favourite pursuit of the 
 Theban youth, he did not care to practise. 
 
 Epaminondas had reached the prime of life before 
 
 A treatise entitled the Plnax or Chart* has come down 
 to us under the name of Cebes. The "Chart" is supposed to 
 picture the moral dangers to which man is liable. It has been 
 doubted whether it really belongs to this time, and there is 
 certainly mention in it of persons of a later date. These may, 
 however, be interpolations. The treatise is undoubtedly Socratic 
 in its tone. 
 
310 THE ONE HERO OF THEBES. 
 
 his merit became known beyond the circle of his 
 private friends. It is not unlikely that poverty stood 
 in his way. It was during a great crisis in Theban 
 history that he had for the first time an opportunity 
 of acting a prominent part. In 388 B.C. by that 
 disgraceful compact with Persia which is known as 
 the Peace of Antalcidas, Sparta had obtained some- 
 thing like a mastery over the whole of Greece. She 
 used her power with characteristic want of modera- 
 tion. But of all her proceedings, perhaps the most 
 insolent was the seizure of the citadel of Thebes in 
 the year 383. A Lacedaemonian army, which was 
 passing under permission through Boeotia, entered 
 into an arrangement with the oligarchical party in 
 Thebes. The oligarchs obtained possession of power, 
 and the Spartans seized the citadel, the home govern- 
 ment censuring and punishing the offending general, 
 but refusing to give up their ill-gotten gains. Three 
 years afterwards the leaders of the democratic party, 
 who had fled for refuge to Athens, overthrew the 
 usurping government: Epaminondas, ever scrupulous 
 to a degree which scarcely had a parallel in Greek 
 life, refused to join in the plot, which involved the 
 assassination of the oligarchical leaders. When it 
 came to open fighting he was one of the first to 
 take up arms. The revolution was speedily com- 
 pleted by the capitulation of the Spartan garrison; 
 among the leaders of the party thus brought into 
 
THE ONE HERO OF THEBES. 311 
 
 power was Pelopidas, Epaminondas' most intimate 
 friend. From that time he took an active part in 
 the civil and military affairs of his country. It 
 would be tedious to follow the shifting phases of 
 these affairs and the ever changing relations of 
 Thebes to the other chief cities of Greece. Nor, 
 indeed, would it serve any useful purpose, as the 
 name of Epaminondas scarcely occurs in the histo- 
 nans of the time. It will suffice to say that seven 
 years after the Theban revolution we find him chosen 
 to represent the State at a Congress of the Greek 
 cities, and regarded with admiration by persons 
 thoroughly well qualified to judge. 
 
 The Congress met at Sparta in the hope so at 
 least it was professed of establishing a permanent 
 peace. The principle in which negotiations were 
 based was, that every city should be independent 
 and that Sparta and Athens should divide the head- 
 ship between them, taking the lead, i.e., when Greece 
 was threatened by a common foe, but not pretending 
 to dictate a policy to any of the states. All arma- 
 ments were to be dissolved, all garrisons and 
 governors put by stronger states to control the 
 weaker were to be withdrawn. Any offender against 
 the common peace was to be coerced; but no state 
 was to be compelled to join in this process of 
 justice. 
 
 All this seemed fair enough, but it was in fact 
 
^512 THE ONE HEKO OF THEBES. 
 
 a heavy blow at Thebes. There was something 
 peculiar in the relation of Thebes to the other 
 Boeotian cities. She claimed to be sovereign over 
 them ; they, or at least some of them, if not actually 
 hostile, as was Plataea, refused to acknowledge 
 anything but a leadership. This was the view 
 which Sparta, now backed up by Athens, sought to 
 enforce upon the Congress. Epaminondas argued 
 the case for Thebes in an oration which would have 
 done credit to the traditions of the best Athenian 
 eloquence. It is needless to follow his reasoning; 
 we are only concerned now with the fact that he 
 had been chosen to represent his country and that 
 he represented it in a way that extorted the admira- 
 tion of all that heard him. One peculiarly cogent 
 argument was addressed to Sparta in particular. He 
 argued with irresistible force that the principle for 
 which he was contending had been accepted by the 
 Spartan judges in the case of Plataea, and had been 
 the foundation of the decision against that city, a 
 decision which declared it to have broken its alle- 
 giance to Thebes. The Spartan king Agesilaus, who 
 presided over the Congress, made no attempt at an 
 answer, but put the simple question: "Will you 
 take the oath for Thebes only, and leave the other 
 Boeotian towns to take it for themselves singly ? " 
 * I will do it," was in substance the answer of 
 Epaminondas, * if Sparta also will allow the other 
 
THE ONE HERO OF THEBES. 313 
 
 towns of Laconia to take the oath for themselves." 
 Agesilaus then proposed that Thebes should be ex- 
 cluded from the Treaty of Peace, a motion which 
 was carried by the Congress. 
 
 These proceedings took place in June. The Spar- 
 tans, transported with a rage which even the friendly 
 Xenophon describes as a " misguiding inspiration "* 
 of angry Heaven, resolved to take an exemplary 
 vengeance for the affront which they conceived 
 themselves to have received. It so happened that 
 Cleombrotus, the other king, was at the time en- 
 camped on the Phocian border of Boeotia, with an army 
 of Lacedaemonians and allies. Instructions were sent 
 to him from home, approved, we are told, in the 
 General Assembly with but one dissentient voice, 
 to invade Boeotia. He obeyed them without delay, 
 forced a passage by a pass which, on account of 
 its difficulty, was but weakly guarded, and marching 
 into the Thespian territory, pitched his camp at 
 Leuctra. 
 
 The first impression made at Thebes was one of 
 dismay, and the first idea to remain within the 
 walls of the city. Epaminondas and his friend 
 Pelopidas succeeded in infusing into their country- 
 men a more hopeful spirit, and in recommending a 
 bolder course. The whole Theban force, with such 
 of their Boeotian allies as were well affected to them, 
 
 *Grote'8 History of Greece, viii. 166. 
 
314 THE ONE HERO OF THEBES. 
 
 marched out, and took up a position on rising ground 
 immediately facing the Spartan camp. There were 
 seven officers Bceotarchs they were called in com- 
 mand. Epaminondas and Pelopidas, with a colleague 
 whose name we do not know, were for giving 
 battle ; three, terrified by the aspect of their Spartan 
 adversaries, were for retreating behind the walls of 
 Thebes. The seventh was absent, guarding the 
 passes of Cithaeron. When he came, he voted for 
 the bolder policy. When this decision was taken, 
 the courage of the Theban army rose to the occasion ; 
 even the omens, which had hitherto presaged defeat, 
 became favourable.* 
 
 And now the military genius of Epaminondas was 
 to display itself. He adopted for the first time in 
 the history of war a movement which has now 
 
 * A legend of Spartan insolence was connected with a tomb 
 in Leuctra, said to cover the remains of a father and two 
 laughters. Pelopidas, we are told, saw in a dream the image 
 of the father standing over him, and bidding him offer in 
 sacrifice an "auburn virgin." Great was the perplexity among 
 the Theban chiefs when he communicated to them this dream. 
 It seemed to point to a human sacrifice, and human sacrifices, 
 though practised in Rome long after this date, had for many 
 years been condemned by Greek sentiment. This doubt was 
 happily resolved. While they were deliberating a mare with a 
 chestnut filly galloped up to the spot. The filly was pronounced 
 by the official prophet to be the * auburn virgin * intended, 
 and was sacrificed on the tomb. 
 
THE ONE HERO OF THEBES. 315 
 
 become a commonplace of the strategic art. Hitherto 
 the universal practice had been to set line against 
 line, with only such differences of strength as might 
 be due to the superior prowess of one division of 
 the army or another. Epaminondas, in spite of the 
 Theban inferiority in numbers,* and, indeed, with the 
 hope of neutralizing it, massed his chief forces on 
 his left wing. Here was the " Sacred Band " as it 
 was called, a battalion of three hundred soldiers, 
 picked for their strength, courage, and skill in athletic 
 exercises, and behind this a dense mass of soldiers, 
 no less than fifty deep. With this he intended to 
 strike an overwhelming blow. 
 
 The battle began with an engagement between the 
 Lacedaemonian and the Theban cavalry. The latter, 
 always as good as any force of the kind in Greece, 
 easily vanquished their opponents. Then Epami- 
 nondas delivered his attack on the Spartan right, 
 where Cleombrotus commanded in person. There was 
 a fierce struggle. Such soldiers as the Spartans 
 were not easily overborne, but even they could not 
 long resist the personal prowess and the overwhelming 
 force of their assailants. Cleombrotus fell early in 
 the day ; many of the superior officers of the Spartan 
 force shared his fate ; the whole wing, after a steady 
 resistance, were, driven to take refuge in their 
 
 "^ According to one account there were eleven thousand Lace 
 daeroonians to six thousand Thehans. 
 
316 THE ONE HERO OF THEBES. 
 
 camp. Elsewhere there seems to have been but 
 little serious fighting. The retreat of the Spartans 
 paralysed, as well it might, the energy and courage 
 of the allies. The whole army retreated to its camp, 
 where the Thebans did not venture to attack it. 
 
 Out of seven hundred Spartans four hundred fell 
 on the field of battle, the loss among the Pelopon- 
 nesian allies was one thousand, at a moderate esti- 
 mate. The Theban loss was returned at three hundred. 
 
 It 18 difficult to estimate the effect which the 
 result of the battle had upon Greek feeling. That 
 Spartans could not be beaten, or, if they could not 
 conquer, would die, was an almost universal article 
 of belief. This faith had, it is true, received one 
 or two hard shocks. In the course of the Pelopon- 
 nesian War, a garrison of Spartans had surrendered 
 at Sphacteria; in the Theban revolution, the force 
 that occupied the citadel had evacuated it. These 
 were thought to be departures from the severity of 
 Spartan law, the law that had kept the Three Hundred 
 at Thermopylae. But excuses might be made for 
 them. For the disaster at Leuctra nothing could be 
 said. On that battle-field, for the first time in Greek 
 history, the Spartans had been beaten in fair fight. 
 The Soldier State never wholly recovered its prestige. 
 
 Epaminondas was determined to follow up this 
 blow at Sparta by others that would help to enfeeble 
 her. He brought back to their old home the rem- 
 
THE ONE HERO OF THEBES. 317 
 
 nants of the Messenian nation. Three centuries, all 
 but a single year, had passed since after a gallant 
 struggle it had been expelled by its Spartan neigh- 
 bours, a people closely allied to it by descent. Nine 
 generations had cherished the hope of a return ; once 
 or twice this hope had seemed about to be fulfilled. It 
 was now accomplished by the remarkable genius of 
 Epaminondas. Sparta lost a considerable portion of 
 territory, and saw established on her south-western 
 border a hostile power, embittered by ages of wrong, 
 not only formidable in itself, but dangerous as giving 
 a refuge to the discontented element in her own sub- 
 ject population. 
 
 Another step in the same direction was the foun- 
 dation of the city of Megalopolis in Arcadia. The 
 policy of Sparta had been to keep the Arcadian 
 people disunited. She had, a few years before, 
 actually broken up the ancient community of Man- 
 tinea into a number of villages. The Mantineans 
 had themselves reinstated their town. And now 
 Epaminondas united a number of other Arcadian 
 communities in the new city. 
 
 To effect these objects he led an imposing force 
 into the Peloponnesus. For a time Sparta itself was 
 in danger. An unwalled city, it had always trusted 
 to the unrivalled valour of its inhabitants. The 
 prestige of this valour lost, it seemed absolutely 
 within reach of the most complete humiliation, even 
 
318 THE ONE HERO OF THEBE8. 
 
 of destruction. Epaminondas did not persevere in 
 his attack, though he was at one time within a 
 very short distance of the city. His characteristic 
 moderation induced him to hold his hand. But beyond 
 all question, for the time at least, Thebes occupied 
 that prominent position in the eyes of all Greece, 
 for which Sparta and Athens had long contended. 
 
 This moderation was shown, unhappily in vain, in 
 another instance. Epaminondas had led an army into 
 Thessaly, where Pelopidas had fallen into the hands 
 of local tyrants. During his absence the aristocratic 
 party in the Boeotian town of Orchomenus conceived 
 the wild idea of bringing about a revolution in 
 Thebes. The plot was revealed to the Theban 
 government, and the conspirators seized. A most 
 cruel vengeance was executed on the unhappy town. 
 All the males of military age were slain, and the 
 rest of the population sold into slavery. Epami- 
 nondas returned to find that this shameful sentence 
 had been carried into execution, and expressed his 
 indignation in the strongest terms. This did not 
 prevent his re-election to the highest office which 
 the people had to bestow. 
 
 But his career was now drawing to a close. 
 Pelopidas had fallen in Thessaly, a victim to his 
 own desperate valour, and Epaminondas did not 
 long survive him. Causes, which it would take too 
 long to detail, had brought about hostility between 
 
THE ONE HERO OF THEBES. 319 
 
 Thebes and part of that Arcadian people which had 
 derived such benefits from his policy. Epaminondas 
 felt himself compelled to intervene. He led a 
 numerous and well-appointed army into the Pelo- 
 ponnese. By a rapid and well-planned movement he 
 almost surprised Sparta. Finally, he confronted the 
 enemy in the plain between Mantinea and Tegea, 
 the battle that followed taking its name from the 
 former town. The Theban contingent was on the 
 left wing, confronting the Mantinean and Spartan 
 troops. He adopted the same tactics that had proved 
 so successful at Leuctra, hurling a massive body of 
 his best troops at a point in the enemy's line, 
 breaking it through, and so securing a first success. 
 All went well, but for one fatal event. Epaminondas, 
 fighting with desperate valour in front of his troops, 
 fell, mortally wounded. The contemporary Xenophon 
 gives no details of the manner in which he met 
 his death. What we hear of it, we hear from a 
 much later writer. According to this account he was 
 carried by his impetuosity into the midst of the 
 enemy, and after a gallant struggle received a 
 mortal wound in his breast. His followers carried 
 him out of the battle. The surgeons told him that 
 to remove the spear would be followed by immediate 
 death. He ordered it to be left where it was till 
 the questions that he asked were answered. " Whcie 
 is my shield?" was the first. He was told that it 
 
320 THE ONE HERO OF THEBES. 
 
 had been recovered. * It is well, " he said. * Whose 
 is the victory?" he asked a little later. He was 
 assured that it rested with the Thebans and their 
 allies. Satisfied as to his personal honour and the 
 principle of his country, he ordered the spear to be 
 drawn out and immediately expired. With him 
 passed away the short-lived supremacy of Thebes. 
 This simple fact is the most emphatic praise that 
 can be given to * The One Hero of Thebes.' 
 
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