THE GRECIAN HISTORY, FROM THE EARLIEST STATE TO THE DEATH OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT.
By DR. GOLDSMITH.
LONDON, Printed for J. and F. RIVINGTON, T. LONGMAN, G. KEARSLEY, W. GRIFFIN, G. ROBINSON, R. BALDWIN, W. GOLDSMITH, T. CADELL, and T. EVANS in the Strand. MDCCLXXIV.
ADVERTISEMENT.
THE Applause bestowed on the ROMAN HISTORY, written by Dr. GOLDSMITH, induced that Gentleman to complete his Plan, by writing a HISTORY OF GREECE.
The Work was printed off when the Republic of Letters was deprived of one of its brightest Ornaments. Since the Author's Decease, the Work has been perused by several of his learned Friends, who are of Opinion, that it has an equal Claim to that Approbation which the ROMAN HISTORY received from the Public.
THE HISTORY OF GREECE.
CHAP. I. Of the earliest State of GREECE.
THE first notices we have of every country are fabulous and uncertain. Among an unenlightened people every imposture is likely to take place, for ignorance is the parent of credulity. Nothing therefore which the Greeks have transmitted to us concerning their earliest state can be relied on. Poets were the first who began to record the actions of their countrymen, and it is a part of their art to strike the imagination even at the expence of probability. For this reason, in the earliest accounts of Greece we are presented with the machinations of gods and demigods, the adventures of heroes and giants, the ravages of monsters and dragons, and all the potency of charms and enchantments. Man, plain historical man, seems to have no share in the picture, and while the reader wanders through the most delightful scenes the imagination can offer, he is scarce once presented with the actions of such a being as himself.
It would be vain therefore, and beside the present purpose, to give an historical air to accounts which were never meant to be transmitted as true. Some writers indeed have laboriously undertaken to separate the truth from the fable, and to give us an unbroken narrative from the first dawning of tradition to the display of undoubted history; they have levelled down all mythology to their own apprehensions, every fable is made to look with an air of probability, instead of a golden fleece Jason goes in pursuit of a great treasure; instead of destroying a chimera, Bellerophon reclaims a mountain; instead of an hydra, Hercules overcomes a robber.
Thus the fanciful pictures of a strong imagination are taught to assume a serious severity, and tend to deceive the reader still more by offering in the garb of truth what had been only meant to delight and allure him.
The fabulous age, therefore, of Greece must have no place in history; it is now too late to separate these parts which may have a real foundation in nature from those which owe their existence wholly to the imagination. There are no traces left to guide us in that intricate pursuit, the dews of the morning are past, and it is vain to attempt continuing the chace in meridian splendor. It will be sufficient therefore for us to observe, that Greece, like most other countries of whose origin we have any notice, was at first divided into a number of petty states, each commanded by its own sovereign. Ancient Greece, which is now the south part of Turkey in Europe, was bounded on the east by the Egean sea, now called the Archipelago; on the south by the Cretan or Candian sea; on the west by the Ionian sea; and on the north by Illyria and Thrace. Of such very narrow extent, and so very contemptible with regard to territory was that country which gave birth to all the arts of war and peace, which produced the greatest generals, philosophers, poets, painters, architects and statuaries that the world ever boasted, which overcame the most powerful monarchs, and dispersed the most numerous armies that ever were brought into the field, and at last became the instructor of all mankind.
It is said in scripture that Javan, the son of Japeth, was the father of all these nations that went under the general denomination of Greeks. Of his four sons, Elisha, or Ellas is said to have given name to the
, a general name by which the Greeks were known. Tharsis, the second son, is thought to have settled in Achaia; Chittim settled in Macedonia; and Dodanim, the fourth, son in Thessaly and Epirus. How they portioned out the country, what revolutions they experienced, or what wars they maintained are utterly unknown, and indeed the history of petty barbarous states, if known, would hardly recompence the trouble of enquiry. In those early times, kingdoms were but inconsiderable: a single city with a few leagues of land was often honoured with that magnificent appellation; it would therefore embarrass history to enter into the domestic privacy of every little state, as it would be rather a subject for the oeconomist than the politician. It will suffice to observe, that Sicyon is said to be the most ancient kingdom of Greece. The begining of this petty sovereignty is placed by historians in the year of the world one thousand nine hundred and fifteen, before Jesus Christ two thousand eighty-nine, and before the first Olympiad one thousand three hundred and thirteen. The first king was Aegialeus. Its duration is said to have been a thousand years.
The kingdom of Argos, in Peloponesus, began a thousand and eighty years before the first Olympiad, in the time of Abraham.
A. M. 2148.
The first king was Inachus.
The kingdom of Mycaenae succeeded. The seat of government was translated thither from Argos by Perseus, the grandson of Acrisius, the last king of that country, who Perseus unfortunately slew. The kings who reigned at Mycaenae after Perseus, were Electryon, Sthenelus, and Eurystheus; the latter of whom was driven out by the Heraclidae, or the descendants of Hercules, who made themselves masters of Peloponnesus.
The kingdom of Athens was first founded by Cecrops, an Egyptian.
A. M. 2448.
This prince having settled in Attica, divided the whole country subject to him into twelve districts, and also established a court for judging causes, entitled the Areopagus. Amphictyon, the third king of Athens, procured a confederacy among the twelve states of Greece, which assembled twice a year at Thermopylae, there to offer up common sacrifices, and to consult for the common interest of the association. Theseus, one of the succeeding kings of this state, united the twelve boroughs of Cecrops into one city. Codrus was the last of this line who devoted himself to death for his people. The Heraclidae having made an irruption as far as the gates of Athens, the oracle declared, that they should be conquerors whose king should fall in this contest. To take the earliest advantage, therefore, of this answer, Codrus disguised himself in the habit of a peasant, and provoking one of the enemies soldiers, was killed by him. Whereupon, the Athenians sent an herald to demand the body of their king, which message struck such a damp into the enemy, that they departed without striking another blow. After Codrus the title of king was extinguished among the Athenians. Medon, his son, was set at the head of the commonwealth, with the title of Archon, which signifies chief governor. The first of this denomination had their places for life, but the Athenians growing weary of a government which represt their love of freedom, they abridged the terms of the archon's power to ten years, and at last made the office elective every year.
The kingdom of Thebes was first founded by Cadmus.
A. M. 2549.
This hero coming by sea from the coast of Phoenicia, settled in that part of the country which was afterwards called Baeotia. He there built the city of Thebes, which from his own name he called Cadmaea, and there fixed his seat of power and dominion. The adventures of his unhappy posterity, Laius, Jocasta, Oedipus, Eteocles, and Polynices, make a shining figure among the poetical fictions of that period.
The kingdom of Sparta, or Lacedaemon, is supposed to be first instituted by Leliae. Helena, the tenth in succession from this monarch, is equally famous for her beauty and infidelity. She had not lived above three years with her husband, Menelaus, before she was carried off by Paris, the son of Priam king of Troy. This seems to be the first occasion in which the Greeks united in one common cause. The Greeks took Troy after a ten years siege, much about the time that Jeptha was the judge in Israel.
A. M. 2820.
Corinth began later than the other cities above-mentioned to be formed into a state, or to be governed by its kings. It was at first subject to Argos and Mycaenae, but Sisiphus, the son of Aeolus, made himself master of it;
A. M. 2628.
and when his descendants were dispossessed, Bachis assumed the reins of power. The government after this became aristocratical, a chief magistrate being annually chosen by the name of Prytanni. At last Cypselus having gained the people, usurped the supreme authority, which he transmitted to his son Periander, who was ranked among the seven wise men of Greece, from the love he bore to learning, and his encouragement of its professors.
The kingdom of Macedonia was first governed by Caranus, descended from Hercules, and subsisted from his time till the defeat of Perseus by the Romans, a space of six hundred and twenty-six years.
Such is the picture Greece offers in its earliest infancy. A combination of little states, each governed by its respective sovereign, yet all uniting for their mutual safety and general advantage. Still, however, their intestine contentions were carried on with great animosity; and, as it happens in all petty states under the dominion of a single commander, the jealousies of the princes were a continual cause of discord. From this distressful situation, those states, by degrees, began to emerge: a different spirit began to seize the people, and, sick of the contentions of their princes, they desired to be free. A spirit of liberty prevailed all over Greece, and a general change of government was effected in every part of the country except in Macedonia. Thus monarchy gave way to a republican government, which, however, was diversified into as many various forms as there were different cities, according to the different genius and peculiar character of each people.
All these cities, though seemingly different from each other in their laws and interests, were united with each other by one common language, one religion, and a national pride that taught them to consider all other nations as barbarous and feeble. Even Egypt itself, from whence they had derived many of their arts and institutions, was considered in a very subordinate light, and rather as an half barbarous predecessor, than an enlightened rival.
To make this union among the states of Greece still stronger, there were games instituted in different parts of the country, with rewards for excellence in every pursuit. These sports were instituted for very serious and useful purposes; they afforded an opportunity for the several states meeting together; they gave them a greater zeal for their common religion; they exercised the youth for the purposes of war, and increased that vigour and activity which was then of the utmost importance in deciding the fate of a battle.
But their chief bond of union arose from the council of the Amphictyons, which was instituted by Amphictyon, king of Athens, as is already mentioned, and was appointed to be held twice a year at Thermopylae, to deliberate for the general good of those states of whose deputies it was composed. The states who sent deputies to this council, were twelve, namely, the Thessalians, the Thebans, the Dorians, the Ionians, the Perhaabeans, the Magnates, the Locrians, the Oetans, the Pthiotes, the Maleans, the Phocians, and the Dolopians. Each of those cities which had a right to assist at the Amphictyonic council, was obliged to send two deputies to every meeting. The one was intitled the Hieromnemon, who took care of the interests of religion; the other was called the Pylagoras, and had in charge the civil interests of his community. Each of these deputies, however, differing in their functions, enjoyed an equal power of determining all affairs relative to the general interests of Greece. But, although the number of deputies seems to have been settled originally so as to answer the number of votes which each city was allowed, yet in process of time, on some extraordinary occasions, the principal cities assumed a power of sending more than one Pylagoras to assist in a critical emergency, or to serve the purposes of a faction. When the deputies, thus appointed, appeared to execute their commission, after offering up sacrifices to Apollo, Diana, Latona, and Minerva, they took an oath, implying, that they would never subvert any city of the Amphictyons, never stop the course of waters either in war or peace, and that they would oppose any attempts to lessen the reverence and authority of the gods, to whom they had paid their adoration. Thus, all offences against religion, all instances of impiety and profanation, all contests between the Grecian states and cities came under the particular cognizance of the Amphictyons, who had a right to determine, to impose fines, and even to levy forces, and to make war against those who offered to rebel against their sovereign authority.
These different motives to confederacy united the Greeks for a time into a body of great power, and greater emulation. By this association, a country not half so large as England, was able to dispute the empire of the earth with the most powerful monarchs of the world. By this association, they not only made head against the numerous armies of Persia, but dispersed, routed and destroyed them, reducing their pride so low, as to make them submit to conditions of peace as shameful to the conquered as glorious to the conquerors. But among all the cities of Greece, there were two that by their merit, their valour, and their wisdom, particularly distinguished themselves from the rest: these were Athens and Lacedaemon. As these cities served as an example of bravery or learning to the rest, and as the chief burthen of every foreign war devolved upon them, it will be proper to enter into their particular history with greater minuteness, and to give the reader some idea of the genius, character, manners, and government of their respective inhabitants.
CHAP. II. Of the Government of SPARTA, and the Laws of LYCURGUS.
ALTHOUGH the kingdom of Lacedaemon was not so considerable as that of Athens, yet as it was of much earlier institution, it demands our first attention. Lacedaemon, as observed above, was in the beginning governed by kings, of which thirteen held the reins of power in succession, of the race of the Pelopidae. As during this dark interval there were no fixed laws to limit the prerogative, nor no ideas of true government among the people, it does not appear that there were any considerable encroachments made either on the side of the king or that of the people. Under the race of the Heraclidae, who succeeded, instead of one king, the people admitted two, who governed with equal authority. The cause of this change seems to have sprung from a very particular accident; for Aristodemus dying, left two sons, Eurysthenes and Procles, twins, so much alike, that it was hardly possible to distinguish them asunder. From hence the hint was taken by the mother of fixing the crown upon both; so that when the Spartans came for a king, she was either unwilling or unable to decide which of them was first-born, or which had the justest pretensions. This form of government continued for several succeeding centuries, and though the one was almost ever at variance with his associate on the throne, yet the government remained entire.
It was during this succession that slavery was first instituted in Sparta. Erysthenes and Procles having granted the countrymen of Sparta the same privileges with the citizens, Agis reversed what his predecessors had done in favour of the peasants, and imposed a tribute upon them. The Helotes were the only people that would not acquiesce in this impost, but rose in rebellion to vindicate their rights: the citizens however prevailed, the Helotes were subdued and made prisoners of war. As a still greater punishment, they and their posterity were condemned to perpetual slavery; and, to encrease their miseries still more, all other slaves were called by the general name of Helotes.
It would appear from hence that this little state was governed with turbulence and oppression, and required the curb of severe laws and rigorous discipline. These severities and rigorous discipline were at last imposed upon it by Lycurgus, one of the first and most extraordinary legislators that ever appeared among mankind. There is perhaps nothing more remarkable in prophane history, yet nothing so well attested, as what relates to the laws and government of Lycurgus. What indeed can be more amazing than to behold a mutinous and savage race of mankind yielding submission to laws that controuled every sensual pleasure and every private affection; to behold them give up, for the good of the state, all the comforts and conveniencies of private life, and making a state of domestic privacy more severe and terrible than the most painful campaigns and the most warlike duties. Yet all this was effected by the perseverance and authority of a single legislator, who gave the first lessons of hard resignation in his own generous example.
Lycurgus was the son of Eunomus, one of the two kings who reigned together in Sparta. The two kings dying without apparent issue, the right of succession rested in Lycurgus, who accordingly took the administration upon him. But an unexpected event came to interrupt his promotion; for the queen his sister-in-law proving with child, his right became doubtful. A man of less probity would have used every precaution to secure himself upon the throne, and a proposal which was made him by the queen seemed to secure his pretensions. She offered to destroy the birth, upon condition that he would marry her, and take her into a share of power. Lycurgus wisely smothered his resentment at so unnatural a proposal, and fearful that she might use means to put her project in execution, assured her that as soon as the child was born he would take upon himself to remove it out of the way. Accordingly she was delivered of a boy, which Lycurgus commanded should be brought to him, as he was at supper with the magistrates; to them he presented the child as their king, and to testify his own and the people's joy, gave him the name of Charilaus. Thus Lycurgus sacrificed his ambition to his duty; and still more, continued his regency, not as king but governor. However, dreading the resentment of the queen, and finding the state in great disorder, he resolved by travelling to avoid the dangers of the one, and to procure a remedy for the defects of the other.
Thus resolving to make himself acquainted with all the improvements of other nations, and to consult the most experienced persons he could meet with in the art of government, he began with the island of Crete, whose hard and severe laws were very much admired. In this island the handicraft trades were brought to some degree of perfection. There they wrought in copper and iron, and made armour, in which they danced with a confused noise of bells at the sacrifices of their gods. It was from them that the art of navigation was first known in Greece, and from them many legislators derived the principles of their respective institutions.
From Crete Lycurgus passed over into Asia, where he still found new information, and is said to have first made the discovery of the works of Homer. From thence he went into Egypt, and is said by some to have had conserences with the gymnosophists of India. But whilst thus employed abroad, his presence began to be greatly wanted at home. All parties conspired to wish his coming, and many messages were sent to hasten his return. The kings themselves importuned him to that effect, and let him know, that the people were arrived at such a pitch of disorder that nothing but his authority could controul their licentiousness. In fact, every thing tended to the unavoidable destruction of the state, and nothing but his presence was wished to check its encreasing dissolution.
Lycurgus, at length persuaded to return, found the people wearied out with their own importunities, and ready to receive any new impressions he might attempt. Wherefore the corruption being general, he found it necessary to change the whole form of the government; sensible that a few particular laws would produce no great effect. But considering the efficacy of religion in promoting every new institution, he went first to consult the oracle of Apollo at Delphos, where he met a reception that might flatter his highest ambition, for he was saluted by the priestless as a friend of the gods, and rather as a god than man. As to his new institution also, he was told that the gods heard his prayers, and that the commonwealth he was going to establish would be the most excellent and durable upon earth.
Thus encouraged, on his return to Sparta, Lycurgus first communicated his designs to his particular friends, and then by degrees gained over the leading men to his party, until things being ripe for a change, he ordered thirty of the principal men to appear armed in the market-place. Charilaus, who was at that time king, seemed at first willing to oppose this revolution, but being intimidated by a superlor force, he took shelter in the temple of Minerva; where, being prevailed upon by his subjects, and being also of a flexible temper, he came forth and joined the confederacy. The people soon acquiesced under a set of institutions which were evidently calulated for their improvement, and gladly acknowledged submission to laws which leaned with equal weight upon every rank of society.
To continue the KINGS still with a shadow of power, he confirmed them in their right of succession as before, but diminished their authority by instituting a senate, which was to serve as a counterpoise between the prerogative and the people. They still, however, had all their former marks of outward dignity and respect. They had the chief seats in every public assembly; in voting they were allowed first to give their opinion; they received ambassadors and strangers, and overlooked public buildings and highways. In the field they were possessed of greater power, they conducted the armies of the state, and were attended by judges, field-deputies, and a general of the horse. However, they were not entirely at liberty even in war, as they received their orders from the senate, which, though for the most part discretionary, yet they were sometimes forced to march against the enemy, or to return home when they least desired to retreat.
The government hitherto had been unsteady, tending at one time time towards despotism, at another to democracy, but the SENATE instituted by Lycurgus served as a check upon both, and kept the state balanced in tranquility. This body, which was composed of twenty-eight members, founded their chief policy in siding with the kings when the people were grasping at too much power; and, on the other hand, in espousing the interests of the people whenever the kings attempted to carry their authority too far. The senators, who were composed of those who assisted Lycurgus in his designs, as well as of several of the citizens remarkable for their private virtues, but none were eligible till sixty years of age. They were continued for life, except upon any notorious crime; and this, as it prevented the inconveniencies of too frequent a change, so it was a lasting reward to the old, and a noble incentive to the young. These formed the supreme court of judicature; and though there lay an appeal from them to the people, yet as they were only convened at the pleasure of the senate, and as the senators were not responsible for any wrong judgment, their decrees generally past without a repeal. Indeed, for several ages, such was the caution, and such the integrity of this tribunal, that none seemed desirous of seeking farther justice, and both parties acquiesced in the justice of their decree. However, the great power which the senate was thus possessed of, was about a century after tempered by the erection of a superior court, called the court of the EPHORI, which consisted of but five in number, and the members were chosen annually into their osfice. They were elected from the people, and had a power of arresting and imprisoning even the persons of their kings, if they acted unbecoming their station.
The PEOPLE also had a nominal share in the government. They had their assemblies consisting of citizens only, and also their great convention of all persons who were free of the state. But this power of convening was but a mere matter of form, as the senate alone was permitted to call them together, and as it was in the option of that body to dismiss them at pleasure. The subject of deliberation also was to be of their proposal, while the people, denied the privilege of debating or discussing, could only reject or ratify with laconic decision. To keep them still more helpless, they were left out of all offices of the state, and were considered merely as machines, which their wiser fellow-citizens were to conduct and employ.
So small a degree of power granted to the people might be apt to destroy these institutions in their infancy, but to reconcile them to the change, Lycurgus boldly resolved to give them a share in those lands from whence, by the encreasing riches of some, and the dissipation of others, they had been deprived. To keep the people in plenty and dependence, seems to have been one of the most refined strokes in this philosopher's legislation. The generality or the people were at that time so poor, that they were destitute of every kind of possession, whilst a small number of individuals were possessed of all the lands and the wealth of the country. In order, therefore, to banish the insolence, the sraud, and the luxury of the one, as well as the misery, the repining, and the factious despair of the others, he persuaded the majority, and forced the rest to give up all their lands to the commonwealth, and to make a new division of them that they might all live together in perfect equality. Thus all the sensual goods of life were equally distributed among the governors and the governed, and superior merit alone conferred superior distinction.
Lycurgus accordingly divided all the lands of Laconia into thirty thousand parts, and those of Sparta into nine thousand, and these he portioned out to the respective inhabitants of each district. Each portion was sufficient to maintain a family in that frugal manner he proposed; and, though the kings had a larger share assigned them to support their dignity, yet their tables had rather an air of decency and competency, than of superfluity or profusion. It is said that some years after, as Lycurgus was returning from a long journey, observing how equally the corn was divided in all parts of the country, he was heard to observe smiling on those next him,
Does not Laconia look like an estate which several brothers have been dividing amongst them?
But it would have answered no permanent purpose to divide the lands, if the money were still suffered to accumulate. To prevent, therefore, all other distinction but that of merit, he resolved to level down all fortune to one standard. He did not indeed strip those possessed of gold or silver of their property; but, what was equivalent, he cried down its value, and suffered nothing but iron money to pass in exchange for every commodity. This coin also he made so heavy, and fixed at so low a rate, that a cart and two oxen were required to carry home a sum of ten minas, or about twenty pounds English, and a whole house was necessary to keep it in. This iron money had no currency among any other of the Grecian states, who, so far from esteeming it, treated it with the utmost contempt and ridicule. From the neglect of foreigners, the Spartans themselves began to despise it so, that money was at last brought into disuse, and few troubled themselves with more than was barely sufficient to supply their necessities. Thus not only riches, but their attendant train of avarice, fraud, rapine, and luxury, were banished from this simple state, and the people found in ignorance of riches a happy substitute for the want of those refinements they bestow.
But these institutions were not thought sufficient to prevent that tendency which mankind have to private excess. A third regulation was therefore made, commanding that all meals should be in public. He ordained that all the men should eat in one common hall without distinction; and lest strangers should attempt to corrupt his citizens by their example, a law was expressly made against their continuance in the city. By these means frugality was not only made necessary, but the use of riches was at once abolished. Every man sent monthly his provisions to the common stock, with a little money for other contingent expences. These consisted of one bushel of flour, eight measures of wine, five pounds of cheese, and two pounds and an half of figs. The tables consisted of fifteen persons each, where none could be admitted but by the consent of the whole company. Every one without exception of persons was obliged to be at the common meal; and a long time after, when Agis returned from a successful expedition, he was punished and reprimanded for having eaten with his queen in private. The very children eat at these meals, and were carried thither as to a school of temperance and wisdom. At these homely repasts no rude or immoral conversation was permitted, no loquacious disputes or ostentatious talking. Each endeavoured to express his sentiments with the utmost perspicuity and conciseness; wit was admitted to season the banquet, and secrecy to give it security. As soon as a young man came into the room, the oldest man in the company used to say to him, pointing to the door,
Nothing spoken here must go that way.
Black broth was their favourite dish, of what ingredients it was made is now known, but they used no flesh in their entertainments; it probably resembled those lenten soups which are still in use on the continent. Dionysius, the tyrant, found their fare very unpalatable; but, as the cook asserted, the broth was nothing without the seasoning of fatigue and hunger.
An injunction so rigorous, which thus cut off all the delicacies and refinements of luxury, was by no means pleasing to the rich, who took every occasion to insult the lawgiver upon his new regulations. The tumults it excited were frequent; and in one of these, a young fellow whose name was Alexander, struck out one of Lycurgus's eyes. But he had the majority of the people on his side, who, provoked at the outrage, delivered the young man into his hands to treat him with all proper severity. Lycurgus, instead of testifying any brutal resentment, won over his aggressor by all the arts of affability and tenderness, till, at last, from being one of the proudest and most turbulent men of Sparta, he became an example of wisdom and moderation, and an useful assistant to Lycurgus in promoting his new institutions.
Thus, undaunted by opposition, and steady in his designs, he went on to make a thorough reformation in the manners of his countrymen. As the education of youth was one of the most important objects of a legislator's care, he took care to instil such early principles, that children should in a manner be born with a sense of order and discipline. His grand principle was, that children were properly the possession of the state, and belonged to the community more than to their parents. To this end he began from the very time of their conception, making it the mother's duty to use such diet and exercise as might fit her to produce a vigorous and healthy offspring. As during this period, all institutions were tinctured with the savageness of the times, it is not wonderful that Lycurgus ordained that all such children as, upon a public view, were deemed deformed or weakly, and unfitted for a future life of vigour and fatigue, should be exposed to perish in a cavern near mount Taygetus. This was considered as a public punishment upon the mother, and it was thought the readiest way to lighten the state of a future encumbrance.
Those infants that were born without any capital defects were adopted as children of the state, and delivered to their parents to be nursed with severity and hardship. From their tenderest age they were accustomed to make no choice in their eating, not to be afraid in the dark, or when left alone, not to be peevish or fretful, to walk barefoot, to lie hard at nights, to wear the same cloaths winter and summer, and to fear nothing from their equals. At the age of seven years they were taken from their parents, and delivered over to the classes for a public education. Their discipline there was little else than an apprenticeship to hardship, self-denial, and obedience. In these classes one of the boys more advanced and experienced than the rest, presided as captain to govern and chastise the refractory. Their very sports and exercises were regulated according to the exactest discipline, and made up of labour and fatigue. They went barefoot, with their heads shaved, and fought with one another naked. While they were at table it was usual for the masters to instruct the boys, by asking them questions concerning the nature of moral actions, or the different merits of the most noted men of the time. The boys were obliged to give a quick and ready answer, which was to be accompanied with his reasons in the concisest manner, for a Spartan's language was as sparing as his money was ponderous and bulky. All ostentatious learning was banished from this simple commonwealth, their only study was to obey, their only pride was to suffer hardship. Every art was practised to harden them against adventitious danger. There was yearly a custom of whipping them at the altar of Diana, and the boy that bore this punishment with the greatest fortitude came off victorious. This was inflicted publicly before the eyes of their parents, and in the presence of the whole city; and many were known to expire under the severity of the discipline without uttering a single groan. Even their own fathers, when they saw them covered with blood and wounds, and ready to expire, exhorted them to persevere to the end with constancy and resolution. Plutarch, who says that he has seen several children expire under this cruel treatment, tells us of one who having stolen a fox, and hid it under his coat, chose rather to let it tear out his very bowels than discover the theft.
Every institution seemed tending to harden the body and sharpen the mind for war. In order to prepare them for stratagems and sudden incursions, the boys were permitted to steal from each other, but if they were caught in the fact, they were punished for their want of dexterity. Such a permission, therefore, was little better than a prohibition of theft, since the punishment followed, as at present, in case of detection. In fact, by this institution, negligence in the possessor was made justly liable to the loss of his possessions, a consideration which has not been sufficiently attended to by subsequent legislators.
At twelve years old the boys were removed into other class of a more advanced kind. There, in order to crush the seeds of vice, which at that time began to appear, their labour and discipline were encreased with their age. There they had their instructor from among the men called Paedonomus, and under him the Irens, young men selected from their own body, to exercise a more constant and immediate command over them. They had now their skirmishes between parties, and their mock fights between larger bodies. In these they often fought with hands, feet, teeth, and nails, with such obstinacy that it was common to see them loose their eyes, and often their lives before the fray was determined. Such was the constant discipline of their minority, which lasted till the age of thirty, before which they were not permitted to marry, to go into the troops, or to bear any office in the state.
With regard to the virgins, their discipline was equally strict with the former. They were inured to a constant course of labour and industry until they were twenty years old, before which time they were not allowed to be marriageable. They also had their peculiar exercises. They ran, wrestled, pitched the bar, and performed all these feats naked before the whole body of the citizens. Yet this was thought no way indecent, as it was supposed that the frequent view of the person would rather check than excite every looser appetite. An education so manlike did not fail to produce in the Spartan women corresponding sentiments. They were bold, frugal, and patriotic, filled with a sense of honour, and a love of military glory. Some foreign women in conversation with the wife of Leonidas saying, that the Spartan women alone knew how to govern the men, she boldly replied, the Spartan women alone bring forth men. A mother was known to give her son, who was going to battle, his shield, with this remarkable advice;
Return with it,
or
return upon it.
Implying, that rather than throw it from him in flight, he should be borne upon it dead to his friends in Sparta. Another hearing that her son was killed fighting for his country, she answered without any emotion, it was for that I brought him into the world. After the battle of Leuctra, the parents of those who died in the action, went to the temples to thank the gods that their sons had done their duty, while those whose children survived that dreadful day seemed inconsoleable.
Yet it must not be concealed, that in a city where the women were inspired with such a passion for military glory, they were not equally remarkable for connubial fidelity. In fact, there was no law against adultery, and an exchange of husbands was often actually practised among them. This was always indeed by the mutual consent of parties, which removed the tedious ceremonies of a divorce. One reason assigned for allowing this mutual liberty, was not so much to gratify licentious desire, as to improve the breed of citizens, by matching such as were possessed of mutual inclination. In fact, in many of the laws of Lycurgus he seems to admit, that private vices may become public benefits, and this among the number.
Besides these constitutional resolutions, there were many other general maxims laid down that obtained the force of laws among them. They were forbid to exercise any mechanic art. The chief occupation of the Spartans was bodily exercises or hunting. The Helotes who had lost their liberty some centuries before, and who had been condemned to perpetual slavery, tilled their lands for them, receiving for their labour a bare subsistence. The citizens thus possessed of competence and leisure, were mostly in company in their large common halls, where they met and conversed together. They passed little of their time alone, being accustomed to live like bees, always together, always attentive to their chiefs and leaders. The love of their country and the public good was their predominant passion, and all self-interest was lost in the general wish for the welfare of the community. Pedarctus having missed the honour of being chosen one of the three hundred who had a certain rank in the city, converted his disappointment into joy,
that there were three hundred better men in Sparta than he.
Among the maxims of this legislator, it was forbidden them to make frequent war upon the same enemies. By this inhibition they were restrained from lasting and immoderate resentment, they were in no danger of teaching their discipline to those they made war upon, and all their alliances were thus more frequently renewed.
Whenever they had broken and routed their enemies, they never pursued them farther than was necessary to make themselves sure of the victory. They thought it sufficiently glorious to overcome, and were ashamed of destroying an enemy that yielded or fled. Nor was this without answering some good purposes; for the enemy, conscious that all who resisted were put to the sword, often fled, as they were convinced that such a conduct was the surest means of obtaining safety. Thus valour and generosity seemed the ruling motives of this new institution; arms were their only exercise and employment, and their life was much less austere in the camp than the city. The Spartans were the only people in the world to whom the time of war was a time of ease and refreshment, because then the severity of their manners was relaxed, and the men were indulged in greater liberties. With them the first and most inviolable law of war was never to turn their backs on the enemy, however disproportioned in forces, nor to deliver up their arms until they resigned them with life. When the poet Archilochus came to Sparta, he was obliged to quit the city for having asserted in one of his poems that it was better for a man to lose his arms than his life. Thus resolved upon conquest or death, they went calmly forward with all the confidence of success, sure of meeting a glorious victory, or what they valued equally, a noble death.
Thus depending upon their valour alone for safety, their legislator forbid walling the city. It was his maxim that a wall of men was preferable to a wall of brick, and that confined valour was scarce preferable to cowardice. Indeed a city, in which were thirty thousand fighting men, stood in little need of walls to protect it; and we have scarce an instance in history of their suffering themselves to be driven to their last retreats. War and its honours was their employment and ambition; their Helotes, or slaves, tilled their grounds, and did all their servile drudgery. These unhappy men were in a manner bound to the soil, it was not lawful to sell them to strangers, or to make them free. If at any time their increase became inconvenient, or created a suspicion in their fierce masters, there was a
cryptia,
or
secret act,
by which they were permitted to destory them. From this barbarous severity, however, Lycurgus is aquitted by Plutarch, but it is plain, that his institutions were not sufficient to restrain the people from such baseness and cruelty. It was by this act allowed for several companies of young men to go out of the city by day, and concealing themselves in the thickets, to rush out in the night upon their slaves, and kill all they could find in their way. Thucydides relates, that two thousand of these slaves disappeared at once without ever after being heard of. It is truly amazing, how a people like the Spartans, renowned for lenity to the conquered, for submission to their superiors, for reverence to old age, and friendship for each other, should yet be so very brutal to those beneath them; to men that ought to be considered in every respect as their equals, as their countrymen, and only degraded by an unjust usurpation. Yet nothing is more certain than their cruel treatment; they were not only condemned to the most servile occupations, but often destroyed without reason. They were frequently made drunk and exposed before the children, in order to deter them from so brutal a species of debauchery.
Such was the general purport of the institutions of Lycurgus, which from their tendency gained the esteem and admiration of all the surrounding nations. The Greeks were ever apt to be dazzled rather with splendid than useful virtues, and praised the laws of Lycurgus, which at best were calculated rather to make men warlike than happy, and to substitute insensibility to enjoyment. If considered in a political light, the city of Lacedaemon was but a military garrison, supported by the labour of a numerous peasantry that were slaves. The laws, therefore, by which they were governed, are not much more rigorous than many of the military institutions of modern princes, the same labour, the same discipline, the same poverty, and the same subordination, is found in many of the garrisoned towns of Europe that prevailed for so many centuries in Sparta. The only difference that appears to me between a soldier of Lacedaemon, and a soldier in garrison at Gravelin, is, that the one was permitted to marry at thirty, and the other is obliged to continue single all his life; the one lives in the midst of a civilized country, which he is supposed to protect, the other lived in the midst of a number of civilized states, which he had no inclination to offend. War is equally the trade of both, and a campaign is frequently a relaxation from the more rigorous consinement of garrison duty.
When Lycurgus had thus completed his military institution, and when the form of government he had established seemed strong and vigorous enough to support itself, his next care was to give it all the permanence in his power. He, therefore, signified to the people that something still remained for the completion of his plan, and that he was under a necessity of going to consult the oracle at Delphos for its advice. In the mean time, he persuaded them to take an oath for the strict observance of all his laws till his return, and then departed with a full resolution of never seeing Sparta more. When he was arrived at Delphos, he consulted the oracle to know whether the laws he had made were sufficient to render the Lacedaemonians happy; and being answered that nothing was wanting to their perfection, he sent this answer to Sparta, and then voluntarily starved himself to death. Others say, that he died in Crete, ordering his body to be burnt, and his ashes to be thrown into the sea. The death of this great lawgiver gave a sanction and authority to his laws which his life was unable to confer. The Spartans regarded his end as the most glorious of all his actions, and a noble finishing of all his former services; they considered themselves as bound by every tie of gratitude and religion to a strict observance of all his institutions; and the long continuance of the Spartan government is a proof of their persevering resolution.
The city of Lacedaemon thus instituted, seemed only desirous of an opportunity of displaying the superiority of their power among the neighbouring states, their rivals. The war between them and the Messenians soon taught them to know the advantages of their military institution; but as I am hastening to more important events, I will touch upon this as concisely as I can. There was a temple of Diana common to the Messenians and Lacedaemonians, standing upon the borders of either kingdom. It was there that the Messenians were accused of attempting the chastity of some Spartan virgins, and of killing Teleclus, one of the Spartan kings, who interposed in their defence. The Messenians, on the other hand, denied the charge, and averred, that these supposed virgins were young men thus dressed up with daggers under their cloaths, and placed there by Teleclus with an intent to surprise them. To the mutual resentment occasioned by this, another cause of animosity was soon after added: Polychares, a Messenian, who had won the prize in the Olympic games, let out some cows to pasture to Euphaenus, a Lacedaemonian, who was to pay himself for their keeping with a share of the increase. Euphaenus sold the cows, and pretended they were stolen from him. Polychares sent his son to demand the money; but the Lacedaemonian, to aggravate his crime, killed the young man, and persuaded his countrymen to give no redress. Polychares, therefore, undertook to do himself justice, and killed all the Lacedaemonians that came in his way. Expostulations passed between both kingdoms, till at last the affair came to a general war, which was carried on for many years with doubtful success. In this situation the Messenians sent to consult the oracle of Delphos, who required the sacrifice of a virgin of the family of Aepytus. Upon casting lots among the descendants of this prince, the chance fell upon the daughter of Lyciscus, but being thought to be supposititious, Aristodemus offered his daughter, whom all allowed to be his own. Her lover, however, attempted to avert the blow, by asserting, that she was with child by him, but her father was so enraged, that he ripped up her belly with his own hand publicly to vindicate her innocence. The enthusiasm which this sacrifice produced, served for a while to give the Messenians the advantage, but being at last overthrown and besieged in the city of Ithoe, Aristodemus finding all things desperate, slew himself upon his daughter's grave.
A. M. 3280.
With him fell the kingdom of Messenia, not without a most obstinate resistance, and many a defeat of the Spartan army, which they held thus engaged for above twenty years. Nor must we omit one memorable transaction of the Lacedaemonians during this war: having drained their city of all its male inhabitants, and obliged themselves by oath not to return until their designs were accomplished; their women, in the mean time, remonstrated, that from their long absence all posterity would be at an end To remedy this inconvenience, they detached fifty of their most promising young men from the army to go to Sparta, and to lie promiscuously with all the young women they fancied. The offspring of these virgins were from them called Partheniae, who finding themselves contemned and slighted by the Spartans on their return, joined some years after in an insurrection with the Helotes, but were soon suppressed. Being expelled the state, they went under the conduct of their captain, Philantus, and settled at Tarentum, in Italy.
After a rigorous subjection of thirty-nine years, the Messenians once more made a vigorous struggle for freedom, being headed by Aristomenes, a young man of great courage and capacity.
A. M. 3319.
The success of the first engagement was doubtful, and the Lacedaemonians being advised by the oracle to send for a general from among the Athenians, this politic state sent them Tyrtaeus, a poet and schoolmaster, whose chief business was to harrangue and repeat his own verses. The Spartans were little pleased with their new leader, but their veneration for the oracle kept them obedient to his commands. Their success, however, did not seem to improve with their duty; they suffered a defeat from Aristomenes, who, losing his shield in the pursuit, their total overthrow was prevented. A second and a third defeat followed soon after; so that the Lacedaemonians, quite dispirited, had thoughts of concluding a peace upon any terms. But Tyrtaeus so enflamed them by his orations and songs in praise of military glory, that they resolved upon another battle, in which they were victorious, and soon after Aristomenes was taken prisoner in a skirmish, with fifty of his followers.
The adventures of this hero deserve our notice. Being carried prisoner to Sparta, he was thrown into a deep dungeon which had been used for the execution of malefactors, and his fifty soldiers with him. They were all killed by the fall except Aristomenes, who finding a wild beast at the bottom preying upon a carcass, securing the animal's mouth, he continued to hold by the tail, until the beast made directly to its hole. There finding the issue too narrow, he was obliged to let go his hold, but following the track with his eye, he perceived a glimmering from above, and at length wrought his way out. After this extraordinary escape, he repaired immediately to his troops, and at their head made a successful sally, by night, against the Corinthian forces. Nevertheless he was once more shortly after taken by some Cretans; but his keepers being made drunk, he stabbed them with their own daggers, and returned to his forces. But his single valour was not sufficient to avert the ruin of his country; although, with his own single prowess, he had thrice earned the Hecatomphonia, a sacrifice due to those who had killed one hundred of the enemy hand to hand in battle, yet the body of his forces being small, and fatigued with continual duty, the city of Eira, which he defended, was taken, and the Messenians were obliged to take refuge with Anaxilas, a prince of Sicily.
A. M. 3340.
As for Tyrtaeus, the Lacedaemonians made him free of their city, which was the highest honour they had in their power to bestow. By the accession of the Messenian country to the territory of Sparta, this state became one of the most powerful of all Greece, and was second only to Athens, which state it always considered with an eye of jealousy.
CHAP. III. Of the Government of ATHENS, the Laws of SOLON, and the History of the Republic from the Time of SOLON to the commencement of the PERSIAN War.
WE now return to Athens. Codrus, the last king of this state, having devoted himself for the good of his country, a magistrate, under the title of Archon, was appointed to succeed him. The first who bore this office was Medon, the son of the late king, who, being opposed by his brother Nileus, was preferred by the oracle, and accordingly invested with his new dignity. This magistracy was at first for life; it was soon after reduced to a period of ten years, and at last became annual, and in this state it continued for near three hundred years. During this inactive government little offers to adorn the page of history, the spirit of extensive dominion had not as yet entered into Greece, and the citizens were too much employed in their private intrigues to attend to foreign concerns. Athens therefore continued a long time incapable of enlarging her power, content with safety amidst the contending interests of aspiring potentates and factious citizens.
A desire of being governed by written laws at last made way for a new change in government.
A. M 3380.
For more than a century they had seen the good effects of laws in the regulation of the Spartan commonwealth; and, as they were a more enlightened people, they expected greater advantages from a new institution. In the choice, therefore, of a legislator, they pitched upon Draco, a man of acknowledged wisdom, and unshaken integrity, but rigid even beyond human sufferance. It does not appear that any state of Greece was possessed of written laws before his time. However, he was not afraid to enact the most severe laws, which laid the same penalties on the most atrocious and the most trifling offences. These laws, which punished all crimes with death, and which were said not to be written with ink, but with blood, were too cruel to be duly and justly administered. Sentiments of humanity in the judges, compassion for the accused when his fault was not equal to his suffering, the unwillingness of witnesses to exact too cruel an atonement, their fears also of the resentment of the people; all these conspired to render the laws obsolete before they could well be put into execution. Thus, the new laws counteracted their own purposes, and their excessive rigour paved the way for the most dangerous impunity.
It was in this distressful state of the commonwealth, that Solon was applied to for his advice and assistance, as the wisest and the justest man of all Athens. His great learning had acquired him the reputation of being the first of the seven wise men of Greece, and his known humanity procured him the love and veneration of every rank among his fellow-citizens. Solon was a native of Salamis, an island dependent on Athens, but which had revolted to put itself under the power of the Megareans. In attempting to recover this island, the Athenians had spent much blood and treasure, until at last wearied out with such ill success, a law was made rendering it capital ever to advise the recovery of their lost possession. Solon, however, undertook to persuade them to another trial, and feigning himself mad, ran about the streets, using the most violent gestures and language; but the purport of all was, upbraiding the Athenians for their remissness and effeminacy, in giving up their conquests in despair. In short, he acted his part so well, by the oddity of his manner, and the strength of his reasoning, that the people resolved upon another expedition against Salamis; and, by a stratagem of his contrivance, in which he introduced several young men upon the island in women's cloaths, the place was surprised, and added to the dominion of Athens.
But this was not the only occasion on which he exhibited superior address and wisdom. At a time when Greece had carried the arts of eloquence, poetry, and government, higher than they had yet been seen among mankind, Solon was considered as one of the foremost in each perfection. The sages of Greece, whose fame is still undiminished, acknowledged his merit, and adopted him as their associate. The correspondence between these wise men was at once instructive, friendly, and sincere. They were seven in number, namely, Thales the Milesian, Solon of Athens, Chilo of Lacedaemon, Pittacus of Mitylene, Periander of Corinth, Bias and Cleobulus, whose birth places are not ascertained. Those sages often visited each other, and their conversations generally turned upon the methods of instituting the best form of government, or the arts of private happiness. One day when Solon went to Miletos to see Thales, the first thing he said, was to express his surprize that Thales had never desired to marry, or have children. Thales made him no answer then, but a few days after, he contrived that a stranger, supposed to arrive from Athens, should join their company. Solon, hearing from whence the stranger came, was inquisitive after the news of his own city, but was only informed that a young man died there, for whom the whole place was in the greatest affliction, as he was reputed the most promising youth in all Athens. Alas! cried Solon, how much is the poor father of the youth to be pitied! pray, what was his name? I heard the name, replied the stranger, who was instructed for the occasion, but I have forgot it: I only remember that all people talked much of his wisdom and justice. Every answer afforded new matter of trouble and terror to the inquisitive father, and he had just strength enough to ask if the youth was not the son of Solon? The very same, replied the stranger; at which words Solon shewed all the marks of the most inconsoleable distress. This was the opportunity which Thales wanted, who took him by the hand, and said to him, with a smile, Comfort yourself my friend, all that has been told you is a mere fiction, but may serve as a very proper answer to your question, why I never thought proper to marry?
One day at the court of Periander of Corinth, a question was proposed, which was the most perfect popular government? That, said Bias, where the law has no superior. That, said Thales, where the inhabitants are neither too rich nor too poor. That, said Anacharsis, the Scythian, where virtue is honoured and vice detested. That, said Pittacus, where dignities are always conferred upon the virtuous, and never upon the base. That, said Cleobulus, where the citizens fear blame more than punishment. That, said Chilo, where the laws are more regarded than the orators. But Solon's opinion seems to have the greatest weight, who said, where an injury done to the meanest subject is an insult upon the whole constitution.
Upon a certain occasion, when Solon was conversing with Anacharsis, the Scythian philosopher, about his intended reformations in the state;
"Alas, cried the Scythian, all your laws will be found to resemble spiders webs; the weak and small flies will be caught and entangled, but the great and powerful will always have strength enough to break through."
Solon's interview with Craesus king of Lydia, is still more celebrated. This monarch, who was reputed the richest of all Asia Minor, was willing to make an oslentatious display of his wealth before the Greek philosopher, and after shewing him immense heaps of treasure, and the greatest variety of other ornaments, he demanded whether he did not think the possessor the most happy of all mankind. No, replied Solon; I know one man more happy, a poor peasant of Greece, who neither in affluence or poverty, has but few wants, and has learned to supply them by his labour. This answer was by no means agreeable to the vain monarch, who by his question only hoped for a reply that would tend to flatter his pride. Willing, therefore, to extort one still more favourable, he asked whether at least he did not think him happy. Alas, cried Solon what man can be pronounced happy before he dies. The integrity and the wisdom of Solon's replies appeared in the event. The kingdom of Lydia was invaded by Cyrus, the empire destroyed, and Craesus himself was taken prisoner. When he was led out to execution, according to the barbarous manners of the times, he then too late recollected the maxims of Solon, and could not help crying out when on the scaffold upon Solon's name: Cyrus hearing him repeat the name with great earnestness, was desirous of knowing the reason; and being informed by Craesus of that philosopher's remarkable observation, he began to fear for himself, pardoned Craesus, and took him for the future into confidence and friendship. Thus Solon had the merit of saving one king's life, and of reforming another.
Such was the man to whom the Athenians applied for assistance in reforming the severity of their government, and instituting a just body of laws. Athens was at that time divided into as many factions as there were different sorts of inhabitants in Attica. Those that lived upon the mountains were fond of exact equality, those that lived in the low country were for the dominion of a few, and those that dwelt on the sea coasts, and were consequently addicted to commerce, were for keeping those parties to exactly balanced, as to permit neither to prevail. But, besides these, there was a fourth party, and that by much the most numerous, consisting wholly of the poor, who were grievously harrassed and oppressed by the rich, and loaded with debts which they were not able to discharge. This unhappy party, which, when they know their own strength, must ever prevail, were now determined to throw off the yoke of their oppressors, and to chuse themselves a chief who should make a reformation in government, by making a new division of lands.
As Solon had never sided with either, he was regarded as the refuge of all, the rich liking him because he was rich, and the poor because he was honest. Though he was at first unwilling to undertake so dangerous an employment, he at last suffered himself to be chosen archon, and to be constituted supreme legislator with the unanimous consent of all. This was a situation in which nothing could be added to his power, yet many of the citizens advised him to make himself king, but he had too much wisdom to seek after a name which would render him obnoxious to many of his fellow-citizens, while he was in fact possessed of more than regal authority.
A tyranny,
he would say,
resembles a fair garden, it is a beautiful
spot while we are within, but it wants a way to get out at.
Rejecting, therefore, the wish of royalty, he resolved upon settling a form of government that should be founded on the basis of just and reasonable liberty. Not venturing to meddle with certain disorders which he looked upon as incurable, he undertook to bring about no other alterations but such as were apparently reasonable to the meanest capacity. In short, it was his aim to give the Athenians not the best of possible constitutions, but the very best they were capable of receiving. His first attempt was, therefore, in favour of the poor, whose debts he abolished at once, by an express law of insolvency. But to do this with the least injury he could to the creditor, he raised the value of money in a moderate proportion, by which he nominally encreased their riches. But his management on this occasion had like to have had very dangerous consequences, for some of his friends, to whom the scheme had been previously communicated, took up vast sums of money while it was low, in order to be possessed of the difference when it became of greater value. Solon himself was suspected of having a hand in this fraud, but to wipe off all suspicion, he remitted his debtors five, or, as others say, fifteen talents, and thus regained the confidence of the people.
His next step was to repeal all the laws enacted by Draco, except those against murder. He then proceeded to the regulation of offices, employments, and magistracies, all which he left in the hands of the rich. He distributed the rich citizens into three classes, ranging them according to their incomes. Those that were found to have five hundred measures yearly, as well in corn as in liquids, were placed in the first rank, those that had three hundred were placed in the second, and those that had but two hundred made up the third. All the rest of the citizens whose income fell short of two hundred measures, were comprised in a fourth and last class, and were considered as unqualified for any employment whatever. But to compensate for this exclusion, he gave every private citizen a privilege of voting in the great assembly of the whole body of the state. This, indeed, at first might appear a concession of small consequence, but it was soon found to contain very solid advantages. For, by the laws of Athens, it was permitted, after the determination of the magistrates, to appeal to the general assembly of the people, and thus, in time, all causes of weight and moment came before them.
In some measure to counteract the influence of a popular assembly, he gave greater weight to the court of Areopagus, and also instituted another council consisting of four hundred. The Areopagus, so called from the place where the court was held, had been established some centuries before, but Solon restored and augmented its authority. To this court was committed the care of causing the laws to be observed and put in execution. Before his time the citizens of the greatest probity and justice were made judges of that tribunal. Solon was the first who thought it convenient that none should be honoured with that dignity but such as had passed through the office of archon. Nothing was so august as this court, and its reputation for judgment and integrity became so very great, that the Romans sometimes referred causes which were too intricate for their own decision, to the determination of this tribunal. Nothing was regarded here but truth; that no external objects might pervert justice, the tribunal was held in darkness, and the advocates were denied all attempts to work upon the passions of the judges. Superior to this, Solon instituted the great council of four hundred, who were to judge upon appeals from the Areopagus, and maturely to examine every question before it came to be debated in a general assembly of the people.
Such was the reformation in the general institutions for the good of the state, his particular laws for dispensing justice were more numerous. In the first place, all persons who in public dissensions and differences espoused neither party, but continued to act with a blameable neutrality, were declared infamous, condemned to perpetual punishment, and to have all their estates confiscated. Nothing could more induce mankind to a spirit of patriotism than this celebrated law. A mind thus obliged to take part in public concerns, learns, from habit, to make those concerns its principal care, and self-interest quickly sinks before them. By this method of accustoming the minds of the people to look upon that man as an enemy that should appear indifferent and unconcerned in the misfortunes of the public, he provided the state with a quick and general resource in every dangerous emergency.
He next permitted every particular person to espouse the quarrel of any one that was injured or insulted. By this means, every person in the state became the enemy of him who did wrong, and the turbulent thus were overpowered by the number of their opponents.
He abolished the custom of giving portions in marriage with young women, unless they were only daughters. The bride was to carry no other fortune to her husband than three suits of cloaths, and some houshold goods of little value. It was his aim to prevent making matrimony a traffic, he considered it as an honourable connexion, calculated for the mutual happiness of both parties, and the general advantage of the state.
Before this lawgiver's time the Athenians were not allowed to make their wills, but the wealth of the deceased naturally, and of course, devolved upon his children. Solon allowed every one that was childless to dispose of his whole estate as he thought fit, preferring by that means friendship to kindred, and choice to necessity and constraint. From this institution the bond between the parents and children became more solid and firm, it confirmed the just authority of the one, and encreased the necessary dependence of the other.
He made a regulation to lessen the rewards to the victors at the Olympic and Isthmian games. He considered it as unjust, that a set of idle people, generally useless, often dangerous to the state, should be allotted those rewards which should go to the deserving. He wished to see those emoluments go to the widows and families of such as fell in the service of their country, and to make the stipend of the state honourable, by being conferred only on the brave.
To encourage industry, the Areopagus was charged with the care of examining into every man's method of living, and of chastising all who led an idle life. The unemployed were considered as a set of dangerous and turbulent spirits, eager after innovation, and hoping to mend their fortunes from the plunder of the state. To discountenance all idleness, therefore, a son was not obliged to support his father in old age or necessity, if the latter had neglected giving him some trade or occupation. All illegitimate children were also exempted from the same duty, as they owed little to their parents except an indelible reproach.
It was forbidden to give ill language in public; the magistrates who were not eligible till thirty were to be particularly circumspect in their behaviour, and it was even death for an archon to be taken drunk. It is observable that he made no law against parricide, as supposing it a crime that could never exist in any community.
With regard to women, he permitted any man to kill an adulterer if he was taken in the fact. He allowed of public brothels, but prohibited mercenary prostitutes from keeping company with modest women, and as a badge of distinction to wear flowered garments. The men also who were notorious for frequenting their company were not allowed to speak in public, and he who forced a woman incurred a very heavy fine.
These were the chief institutions of this celebrated lawgiver, and although neither so striking, nor yet so well authorised as those of Lycurgus, they did not fail to operate for several succeeding ages, and seemed to gather strength by observance. After he had framed these institutes, his next care was to give them such notoriety that none could plead ignorance. To this end transcripts of them were publicly hung up in the city for every one to peruse, while a set of magistrates named Thesmothetae, were appointed to revise them carefully, and distinctly repeat them once a year. Then, in order to perpetuate his statutes, he engaged the people by a public oath to observe them religiously, at least for the term of an hundred years; and thus having completed the task assigned him, he withdrew from the city to avoid the importunity of some, and the captious petulance of others. For, as he well knew, it was hard, if not impossible, to please all.
Solon being thus employed on his travels in visiting Egypt, Lydia, and several other countries, left Athens to become habituated to his new institutions, and to try by experience the wisdom of their formation. But it was not easy for a city long torn by civil dissensions to yield implicit obedience to any laws, how wisely soever framed; their former animosities began to revive when that authority was removed which alone could hold them in subjection. The factions of the state were headed by three different leaders, who enflamed the animosity of the people against each other, hoping by the subversion of all order, to indulge their own private hopes of aspiring. A person named Lycurgus was at the head of the people that inhabited the low country, Pisistratus declared for those who lived in the mountains, and Megacles was the leader of the inhabitants upon the sea coast.
Pisistratus was of these the most powerful. He was a well bred man, of a gentle and insinuating behaviour, ready to succour and assist the poor, whose cause he pretended to espouse. He was wise, and moderate to his enemies, a most artful and accomplished dissembler, and was every way virtuous except in his inordinate ambition. His ambition gave him the appearance of possessing qualities which he really wanted, he seemed the most zealous champion for equality among the citizens, while he was actually aiming at the entire subversion of freedom, and he declared loudly against all innovations, while he was actually meditating a change. The giddy multitude caught by these appearances were zealous in seconding his views, and without examining his motives were driving headlong to tyranny and destruction.
It was just at the eve of success, and upon the point of being indulged in his utmost ambition, that Pisistratus had the mortification of seeing Solon return after an absence of ten years, apprized of his designs, and willing to subvert his schemes. Sensible, therefore, of his danger, and conscious of the penetration of this great lawgiver, the aspiring demagogue used all his artifice to conceal his real designs, and while he flattered him in public, used every endeavour to bring over the people to second his interests. Solon at first endeavoured to oppose art to his cunning, and to foil him at his own weapons. He praised him in his turn, and was heard to declare, what might have been true, that excepting the immoderate ambition of Pisistratus, he knew no man of greater, or more exalted virtues. Still, however, he set himself to counteract his projects, and to defeat his designs before they were ripe for execution.
But in a vicious commonwealth, no assiduity can warn, no wisdom protect. Pisistratus still urged his schemes with unabating ardour, and every day made new proselytes by his professions and his liberalities. At length, finding his schemes ripe for open action, he gave himself several wounds, and in that condition, with his body all bloody, he caused himself to be carried in his chariot to the market-place, where, by his complaints and eloquence, he so enslamed the populace, that they considered him as the victim of their cause, and as suffering such cruel treatment in their defence. An assembly of the people was, therefore, immediately convened, from whom he demanded a guard of fifty persons for his future security. It was in vain that Solon used all his authority and eloquence to oppose so dangerous a request. He considered his sufferings as merely counterfeited. He compared him to Ulysses in Homer, who cut himself with similar designs; but he alledged that he did not act the part right, for the design of Ulysses was to deceive his enemies, but that of Pisistratus was leveled against his friends and supporters. He upbraided the people with their stupidity, telling them, that for his own part he had sense enough to see through this design, but they only had strength enough to oppose it. His exhortations, however, were vain, the party of Pisistratus prevailed, and a guard of fifty men was appointed to attend him. This was all that he aimed at, for now having the protection of so many creatures of his own, nothing remained but insensibly to encrease their number. Thus every day his hirelings were seen to augment, while the silent fears of the citizens encreased in equal proportion. But it was now too late, for having raised the number to put him beyond the danger of a repuise, he at length seized upon the citadel, while none was left who had courage or conduct to oppose.
In this general consternation, which was the result of folly on the one hand, and treachery on the other, the whole city was one scene of tumult and disorder, some flying, others inly complaining, others preparing for slavery with patient submission. Solon was the only man who, without fear or shrinking, deplored the folly of the times, and reproached the Athenians with their cowardice and treachery. You might, said he, with ease have crushed the tyrant in the bud, but nothing now remains but to pluck him up by the roots. As for himself, he had at least the satisfaction of having discharged his duty to his country and the laws; and, as for the rest, he had nothing to fear, and now upon the destruction of his country, his only confidence was in his great age, which gave him hopes of not being a long survivor. In fact, he did not survive the liberty of his country above two years; he died at Cyprus in the eightieth year of his age, lamented and admired by every state of Greece. Besides his skill in legislation, Solon was remarkable for several other shining qualifications. He understood eloquence in so high a degree, that from him Cicero dates the origin of eloquence in Athens. He was successful also in poetry, and Plato asserts, that it was only for want of due application that he did not come to dispute the prize with Homer himself.
The death of Solon only served to involve Athens in new troubles and commotions. Lycurgus and Megacles, the leaders of the two opposite factions, uniting, drove Pisistratus out of the city, but he was soon after recalled by Megacles, who gave him his daughter in marriage. New disturbances arose; Pisistratus was twice deposed, and twice found means to reinstate himself, for he had art to acquire power, and moderation to maintain it. The mildness of his government, and his implicit submission to the laws, made the people forget the means by which he acquired his power; and, caught by his lenity, they overlooked his usurpation. His gardens and pleasure grounds were free to all the citizens; and he is said to be the first who opened a public library at Athens. Cicero is of opinion, that Pisistratus first made the Athenians acquainted with the books of Homer, that he disposed them in the order in which they now remain, and first caused them to be read at the feasts called Panathanea. His justice is not less remarkable than his politeness. Being accused of murder, though it was in the time of his tyranny, he disdained to take the advantage of his authority, but went in person to plead his cause before the Areopagus, where his accuser would not venture to appear. In short, he was master of many excellent qualities, and perverted them no farther than as they stood in competition with empire. Nothing could be objected to him but his having greater power than the laws, and by not exerting that power he almost reconciled the citizens to royalty. Upon these accounts he was deservedly oppofed to usurpers of fewer virtues, and there feemed such a resemblance between him and a more successful invader of his country's freedom, that Julius Caesar was called the Pisistratus of Rome.
Pisistratus dying in tranquillity, transmitted the sovereign power to his sons, Hippias and Hipparchus, who seemed to inherit all their father's virtues. A passion for learning and its professors, had for some time prevailed in Athens; and this city, which had already far out-gone all its cotemporaries in all the arts of refinement, seemed to submit tamely to kings, who made learning their pride and their profession. Anacreon, Simonides, and others, were invited to their courts, and richly rewarded. Schools were instituted for the improvement of youth in the learned professions, and Mercuries were set up in all the highways, with moral sentences written upon them, for the instruction of the lowest vulgar. Their reign, however, lasted but eighteen years, and ended upon the following occasion.
Harmodius and Aristogiton, both citizens of Athens, had contracted a very strict friendship for each other, and resolved to revenge the injuries which should be committed against either with common resentment. Hipparchus being naturally amorous, debauched the sister of Harmodius, and afterwards published her shame as she was about to walk in one of the sacred processions, alledging, that she was not in a condition to assist at the ceremony. Such a complicated indignity naturally excited the resentment of the two friends, who formed a fixed resolution of destroying the tyrants, or falling in the attempt. Willing, however, to wait the most favourable opportunity, they deferred their purpose to the feast of the Panathanea, in which the ceremony required that all the citizens should attend in armour. For their greater security, they admitted only a small number of their friends into the secret of their design, conceiving that upon the first commotion they should not want for abettors. Thus resolved, the day being come, they went early into the market-place, each armed with his dagger, and steadfast to his purpose. In the mean time, Hippias was seen issuing with his followers from the palace, to give orders without the city to the guards for the intended ceremony. As the two friends continued to follow him at a little distance, they perceived one of those to whom they had communicated their design, talking very familiarly with him, which made them apprehend their plot was betrayed. Eager, therefore, to execute their design, they were preparing to strike the blow, but recollected that the real aggressor would thus go unpunished. They once more, therefore, returned into the city, willing to begin their vengeance upon the author of their indignities. They were not long in quest of Hipparchus, they met him upon their return, and rushing upon him, dispatched him with their daggers without delay, but were soon after themselves slain in the tumult. Hippias hearing of what was done, to prevent farther disorders, got all these disarmed whom he in the least suspected of being privy to the design, and then meditated revenge.
Among the friends of the late assertors of freedom, was one Leona, a courtezan, who by the charms of her beauty, and her skill in playing on the harp, had captivated some of the conspirators, and was supposed to be deeply engaged in the design. As the tyrant, for such the late attempt had rendered him, was conscious that nothing was concealed from this woman, he ordered her to be put to the torture, in order to extort the names of accomplices. But she bore all the cruelty of their torments with invincible constancy; and lest she should in the agony of pain be induced to a confession, she bit off her own tongue and spit it in the tyrant's face. In this manner she died faithful to the cause of liberty, shewing the world a remarkable example of constancy in her sex. The Athenians would not suffer the memory of so heroic an action to pass into oblivion. They erected a statue to her memory, in which a lioness was represented without a tongue.
In the mean time, Hippias put no bounds to his indignation. A rebellious people ever makes a suspicious tyrant. Numbers of citizens were put to death; and to guard himself for the future against a like enterprize, he endeavoured to establish his power by foreign alliances. He gave his daughter in marriage to the son of the tyrant of Lampsacus, he cultivated a correspondence with Artaphanes, governor of Sardis, and endeavoured to gain the friendship of the Lacedaemonians, who were at that time the most powerful people of Greece.
But he was supplanted in those very alliances from which he hoped the greatest assistance. The family of the Alcmaeonidae, who from the beginning of the revolution had been banished from Athens, endeavoured to undermine his interests at Sparta, and they at length succeeded. Being possessed of great riches, and also very liberal in their distribution, among other public services, they obtained liberty to rebuild the temple at Delphos, which they fronted in a most magnificence manner with Parian marble. So noble a munificence was not without a proper acknowledgement of gratitude from the priestess of Apollo, who, willing to oblige them, made her oracle the echo of their desires. As there was nothing, therefore, which this family so ardently desired as the downfall of regal power in Athens, the priestess seconded their intentions, and whenever the Spartans came to consult the oracle, no promise was ever made of the god's assistance, but upon condition that Athens should be set free. This order was so often repeated by the oracle, that the Spartans at last resolved to obey. Their first attempts were, however, unsuccessful; the troops they sent against the tyrant were repulsed with loss. A second effort succeeded. Athens was besieged, and the children of Hippias were made prisoners as they were secretly conveying to a place of safety out of the city. To redeem these from slavery, the father was obliged to come to an accommodation, by which he consented to give up his pretensions to the sovereign power, and to depart out of the Athenian territories in the space of five days. Thus, Athens was once more set free from its tyrants, and obtained its liberty the very same year that the kings were expelled from Rome.
A. M. 3496
The family of Alcmaeon were chiefly instrumental, but the people seemed fonder of acknowledging their obligations to the two friends who struck the first blow. The names of Harmodius and Aristogiton were held in the highest respect in all succeeding ages, and scarce considered inferior even to the gods themselves. Their statues were erected in the market-place, an honour which had never been rendered to any before; and, gazing upon these, the people caught a love for freedom, and a detestation for tyranny, which neither time nor terrors could ever after remove.
CHAP. IV. A short Survey of the State of GREECE previous to the PERSIAN War.
HITHERTO we have seen the states of Greece in constant fluctuation, different states rising, and others disappearing, one petty people opposed to another, and both swallowed up by a third. Every city emerging from the ancient form of government which was originally imposed upon it, and by degrees acquiring greater freedom. We have seen the introduction of written laws, and the benefits they produced by giving stability to government.
During these struggles for power among their neighbouring states, and for freedom at home, the moral sciences, the arts of eloquence, poetry, arms, were making a rapid progress among them, and those institutions which they originally borrowed from the Egyptians, were every day receiving signal improvements. As Greece was now composed of several small republics bordering upon each other, and differing in their laws, characters, and customs, this was a continual source of emulation, and every city was not only desirous of warlike superiority, but also of excelling in all the arts of peace and refinement. Hence they were always under arms, and continually exercised in war, while their philosophers and poets travelled from city to city, and by their exhortations and songs, warmed them with a love of virtue, and with an ardour for military glory. These peaceful and military accomplishments raised them to their highest pitch of grandeur, and they now only wanted an enemy worthy of their arms to shew the world their superiority. The Persian monarchy, the greatest at that time in the world, soon offered itself as their opponent, and the contest ended with its total subversion.
But as Greece was continually changing not only its government, but its customs, as in one century it presented a very different picture from what it offered in the preceding, it will be necessary to take a second view of this confederacy of little republics previous to their contests with Persia, as by comparing their strength with that of their opponent, we shall find how much wisdom, discipline, and valour, are superior to numbers, wealth, and ostentation.
Foremost in this confederacy we may reckon the city of Athens, commanding the little state of Attica, their whole dominions scarce exceeding the largest of our English counties in circumference. But what was wanting in extent was made up by the citizens being inured to war, and impressed with the highest ideas of their own superiority. Their orators, their philosophers, and their poets, had already given lessons of politeness to mankind; and their generals, though engaged only in petty conflicts with their neighbours, had begun to practise new stratagems in war. There were three kinds of inhabitants in Athens; citizens, strangers, and servants. Their number usually amounted to twenty-one thousand citizens, ten thousand strangers, and from forty to threescore thousand servants.
A citizen could only be such by birth, or adoption. To be a natural denizen of Athens, it was necessary to be born of a father and mother both Athenians, and both free. The people could confer the freedom of the city upon strangers, and those whom they had so adopted, enjoyed almost the same rights and privileges as the natural citizens. The quality of citizen of Athens was sometimes granted in honour and gratitude to those who merited well of the state, as to Hippocrates the physician; and even kings sometimes canvassed that title for themselves and their children. When the young men attained the age of twenty, they were enrolled upon the list of citizens, after having taken an oath, and in virtue of this they became members of the state.
Strangers, or foreigners, who came to settle at Athens for the sake of commerce, or of exercising any trade, had no share in government, nor votes in the assemblies of the people. They put themselves under the protection of some citizen, and upon that account were obliged to render him certain duties and services. They paid a yearly tribute to the state of twelve drachmas, and in default of payment were made slaves, and exposed to sale.
Of servants, there were some free, and others slaves, who had been taken in war, or bought of such as trafficked in them. The Athenians were as remarkable for their lenity to these unhappy men, as the Spartans were noted for their fierceness and rigidity. There was even an asylum for slaves, where the bones of Theseus had been interred; and that asylum subsisted for near two thousand years. When slaves were treated with too much rigour and inhumanity, they might bring their masters to justice; who, if the fact were sufficiently proved, were obliged to sell them to another master. They could even ransom themselves against their master's consent, when they had laid up money enough for that purpose, for out of what they got by their labour, after having paid a certain proportion to their masters, they kept the remainder for themselves, and made a stock of it at their own disposal. Private persons when they were satisfied with their services, often gave them their liberty; and when the necessity of the times obliged the state to make their greatest levies, they were enrolled among the troops, and from thence were ever after free.
The revenues of this city, according to Aristophanes, amounted to two thousand talents, or about three hundred thousand pounds of our money. They were generally gathered from the taxes upon agriculture, the sale of woods, the produce of mines, the contributions paid them by their allies, a capitulation levied upon the inhabitants of the country, as well natives as strangers, and from fines laid upon different misdemeanors. The application of these revenues was in paying the troops, both by land and sea, building and fitting out sleets, keeping up and repairing public buildings, temples, walls, ports, and citadels. But in the decline of the republic, the greatest part was consumed in frivolous expences, games, feasts, and shows, which cost immense sums, and were of no manner of utility to the state.
But the greatest glory of Athens, was its being the school and abode of polite learning, arts, and sciences. The study of poetry, eloquence, philosophy, and mathematics began there, and came almost to their utmost perfection. The young people were sent first to learn grammar under masters who taught them regularly, and upon the principles of their own language. Eloquence was studied with still greater attention, as in that popular government it opened the way to the highest employments. To the study of rhetoric was annexed that of philosophy, which comprised all the sciences; and in these there were many masters, very conversant, but, as is common, their vanity still greater than their pretensions.
All the subordinate states of Greece seemed to make Athens the object of their imitation; and, though inferior to it upon the whole, yet each produced great scholars, and remarkable warriors in its turn. Sparta alone took example from no other state, but still rigorously attached to the institutions of its great lawgiver, Lycurgus, it disdained all the arts of peace, which, while they polished, served to enervate the mind, and, formed only for war, they looked forward to campaigns and battles, as scenes of rest and tranquillity. All the laws of Sparta, and all the institutions of Lycurgus, seemed to have no other object than war; all other employments, arts, polite learning, sciences, trades, and even husbandry itself, were prohibited amongst them. The citizens of Lacedaemon were of two sorts, either those who inhabited the city of Sparta, and, who for that reason were called Spartans, and those who inhabited the country dependent thereon. In the times of Lycurgus the Spartans amounted to nine thousand men, the countrymen to thirty thousand. This number was rather diminished than encreased in succeeding times, but it still composed a formidable body, that often gave laws to the rest of Greece. The Spartan soldiers, properly so called, were considered as the flower of the nation, and we may judge of their estimation by the anxiety the republic expressed when three hundred of them were once taken prisoners by the Athenians.
But notwithstanding the great valour of the Spartan state, it was formed rather for a defensive than an offensive war. They were always careful to spare the troops of their country, and as they had very little money, they were not in a capacity to send their armies upon distant expeditions.
The armies both of Sparta and Athens were composed of four sorts of troops: citizens, allies, mercenaries, and slaves. The greatest number of troops in the two republics were composed of allies, who were paid by the cities who sent them. Those which received pay from their employers were styled mercenaries. The number of slaves attending on every army was very great, and the Helotes, in particular, were employed as light infantry.
The Greek infantry consisted of two kinds of soldiers; the one heavy armed, and carrying great shields, spears, and scymetars; the other light armed, carrying javelins, bows, and slings. These were commonly placed in the front of the battle, or upon the wings, to shoot their arrows, or fling their javelins and stones at the enemy, and then retire through the intervals behind the ranks, to dart out occasionally upon the retiring enemy.
The Athenians were pretty much strangers to cavalry, and the Lacedaemonians did nor begin the use till after the war with Messene. They raised their horse principally in a small city not far from Lacedaemon, called Sciros, and they were always placed on the extremity of the left wing, which post they claimed as their rightful station.
But to recompence this defect of cavalry, the Athenians, in naval affairs, had a great superiority over all the states of Greece. As they had an extensive sea coast; and as the profession of a merchant was held reptuable among them, their navy encreased, and was at length sufficiently powerful to intimidate the fleets of Persia.
Such were the two states, that in some measure engrossed all the power of Greece to themselves; and, though several petty kingdoms still held their governments in independence, yet they owed their safety to the mutual jealousy of these powerful rivals, and always found shelter from the one against the oppressions of the other. Indeed the dissimilarity of their habits, manners, and education, served as well to divide these two states, as their political ambition. The Lacedaemonians were severe, and seemed to have something almost brutal in their character. A government too rigid, and a life too laborious, rendered their tempers haughtily sullen and untractable. The Athenians were naturally obliging and agreeable, chearful among each other, and humane to their inferiors, but they were restless, unequal, timorous friends, and capricious protectors. From hence neither republic could sufficiently win over the smaller states of Greece to their interests; and, although their ambition would not suffer the country to remain in repose, yet their obvious defects were always a bar to the spreading their dominion. Thus the mutual jealousy of these states kept them both in constant readiness for war, while their common defects kept the lesser states independent.
CHAP. V. From the Expulsion of HIPPIAS to the Death of DARIUS.
IT was in this disposition of Athens and Sparta, and of the lesser states, their neighbours, that the Persian monarchy began to interest itself in their disputes, and made itself an umpire in their contentions for liberty, only to seize upon the liberties of all. It has been already related, that Hippias being besieged in Athens, and his children being taken prisoners, in order to release them, he consented to abdicate the sovereign power, and to leave the dominions of Athens in five days. Athens, however, in recovering its liberty, did not enjoy that tranquility which freedom is thought to bestow. Two of the principal citizens, Calisthenes, a favourite of the people, and Isagoras, who was supported by the rich, began to contend for that power which they had but a little before joined in depressing. The former, who was become very popular, made an alteration in the form of their establishment; and, instead of four tribes, whereof they before consisted, enlarged their number to ten. He also instituted the manner of giving votes by Ostracism, as it was called. The manner of performing this, was for every citizen, not under sixty years old, to give in a name written upon a tile, or oyster-shell, (from whence the method of voting had its name) and he upon whom the majority fell was pronounced banished for ten years. These laws evidently calculated to encrease the power of the people, were so displeasing to Isagoras, that, rather than submit, he had recourse to Cleomenes king of Sparta, who undertook to espouse his quarrel. In fact, the Lacedaemonians only wanted a favourable pretext for lessening and destroying the power of Athens, which, in consequence of the command of the oracle, they had so lately rescued from tyranny. Cleomenes, therefore, availing himself of the divided state of the city, entered Athens, and procured the banishment of Calisthenes, with seven hundred families more, who had sided with him in the late commotions. Not content with this, he endeavoured to new model the state, but being strongly opposed by the senate, he seized upon the citadel, from whence, however, in two days he was obliged to retire. Calisthenes perceiving the enemy withdrawn, returned with his followers, and finding it vain to make any farther attempts for power, restored the government as settled by Solon.
In the mean time, the Lacedaemonians repenting the services they had rendered their rival state, and perceiving the imposture of the oracle, by which they were thus impelled to act against their own interests, began to think of reinstating Hippias on the throne. But, previous to their attempt, they judged it prudent to consult the subordinate states of Greece, and to see what hopes they had of their concurrence and approbation. Nothing however could be more mortifying than the universal detestation with which their proposal was received by the deputies of the states of Greece. The deputy of Corinth expressed the utmost indignation at the design, and seemed astonished that the Spartans, who were the avowed enemies of tyrants, should thus espouse the interests of one noted for cruelty and usurpation. The rest of the states warmly seconded his sentiments, and the Lacedaemonians, covered with confusion and remorse, abandoned Hippias and his cause for ever after.
Hippias being thus frustrated in his hopes of exciting the Greeks to second his pretensions, was resolved to have recourse to one who was considered as a much more powerful patron. Wherefore, taking his leave of the Spartans, he applied himself to Artaphernes, governor of Sardis, for the king of Persia, whom he endeavoured by every art to engage in a war against Athens. He represented to him the divided state of the city, he enlarged upon its riches, and the happiness of its situation for trade. He added the ease with which it might be taken, and the glory that would attend success. Influenced by these motives, the pride and the avarice of the Persian court were enflamed, and nothing was so ardently sought as the pretext of a dispute with the Athenians. When, therefore, that city sent to the Persian court to vindicate their proceedings, alledging, that Hippias deserved no countenance from so great a people; the answer returned was,
That if the Athenians would be safe, they must admit Hippias for their king.
Athens having so lately thrown off the yoke, had too lively a sense of its past calamities to accept safety upon such base conditions, and resolved to suffer the last extremity rather than open their gates to a tyrant. When Artaphernes, therefore, demanded the restoration of Hippias, the Athenians boldly returned him a downright and absolute refusal. From this arose the war between Greece and Persia, one of the most glorious, and the most remarkable that ever graced the annals of kingdoms.
But there were more causes than one tending to make a breach between these powerful nations, and producing an irreconcileable aversion for each other. The Greek colonies of Ionia, Aeolia, and Caria, that were settled for above five hundred years in Asia Minor, were at length subdued by Craesus king of Lydia; and he, in turn, sinking under the power of Cyrus, his conquests of course fell in with the rest of his dominions. The Persian monarch thus possessed of a very extensive territory, placed governors over the several cities that were thus subdued; and as men bred up in a despotic court, were likely enough to imitate the example set them at home, it is probable enough they abused their power. Be this as it may, in all the Greek cities they were called Tyrants; and as these little states had not yet lost all idea of freedom, they took every opportunity to recover their liberty, and made many bold, but unsuccessful struggles in that glorious cause. The Ionians particularly, who bore the greatest sway among them, let no occasion slip which promised the smallest hopes of shaking off the Persian yoke.
That which favoured their designs upon the present occasion, was the expedition of Darius into Scythia, into which country he sent a numerous army, laying a bridge over the river Ister for that purpose. The Ionians were appointed to guard this important pass, but were advised by Miltiades, whom we shall afterwards find performing nobler exploits, to break down the bridge, and thus cut off the Persian retreat. The Ionians, however, rejected his counsel, and Darius returned with his army into Europe, where he added Thrace and Macedon to the number of his conquests.
Histiaeus, the tyrant of Miletos, was the person who opposed the advice of Miltiades; who, being of an ambitious and intriguing disposition, was willing to lessen the merit of all his cotemporaries, in order to enhance his own. But he was deceived in his expectations of success; from these schemes Darius justly suspecting his fidelity, took him with him to Susa, under pretence of using his friendship and advice, but in reality of preventing his future machinations at home. But Histyaeus saw too clearly the cause of his detension, which he regarded as a specious imprisonment, and therefore took every opportunity of secretly exciting the Ionians to a revolt, hoping, that himself might one day be sent to bring them to reason.
Aristagoras was at that time this statesman's deputy at Miletus, and received the instructions of his master to stir up the Ionian cities to revolt with the utmost alacrity. In fact, from a late failure of this general upon Naxos, his credit was ruined at the Persian court, and no other alternative remained for him but to comply with the advice of Histiaeus in stirring up a revolt, and of trying to place himself at the head of a new confederacy.
The first step Aristagoras took to engage the affections of the Ionians, was to throw up his power in Miletus, where he was deputy, and to reinstate that little place in all its former freedom. He then made a journey through all Ionia, where, by his example, his credit, and perhaps his menaces, he induced every other governor to imitate his example. They all complied the more chearfully, as the Persian power since the check it had received in Scythia, was the less able to punish their revolt, or to protect them in their continued attachment. Having thus united all these little states by the consciousness of one common offence, he then threw off the mask, declaring himself at the head of the confederacy, and bid defiance to the power of Persia.
To enable himself to carry on the war with more vigour, he went in the beginning of the following year to Lacedaemon, in order to engage that state in his interests, and engage it in a war with a power that seemed every day to threaten the general liberty of Greece. Cleomenes was at that time king of Sparta, and to him Aristagoras applied for assistance, in what he represented as the common cause. He represented to him, that the Ionians and Lacedaemonians were countrymen; that it would be for the honour of Sparta to concur with him in the design he had formed of restoring the Ionians to their liberty; that the Persians were enervated by luxury; that their riches would serve to reward the conquerors, while nothing was so easy as their overthrow. Considering the present spirit of the Ionians, it would not be difficult, he said, for the victorious Spartans to carry their arms even to the gates of Susa, the metropolis of the Persian empire, and thus give laws to those who presumed to call themselves the sovereigns of the world. Cleomenes desired time to consider this proposal; and, being bred up in Spartan ignorance, demanded how far it was from the Ionian sea to Susa? Aristagoras, without considering the tendency of the question, answered, that it might be a journey of three months. Cleomenes made no answer, but turning his back upon so great an adventurer, gave orders that before sun-set he should quit the city. Still, however, Aristagoras followed him to his house, and finding the inefficacy of his eloquence, tried what his offers of wealth could do. He at first offered him ten talents, he then raised the sum to fifteen; and it is unknown what effect such a large sum might have had upon the Spartan, had not his daughter, a child of nine years old, who was accidentally present at the proposal, cried out,
Fly father, or this stranger will corrupt you.
This advice given in the moment of suspense, prevailed; Cleomenes refused his bribes, and Aristagoras went to sue at other cities, where eloquence was more honoured, and wealth more alluring.
Athens was a city where he expected a more favourable reception. Nothing could be more fortunate for his interests than his arrival at the very time they had received the peremptory message from the Persians to admit their tyrant, or to fear the consequences of their disobedience. The Athenians were at that time all in an uproar, and the proposal of Aristagoras met with the most favourable reception. It was much easier to impose upon a multitude than a single person, the whole body of citizens engaged immediately to furnish twenty ships to assist his designs; and to these, the Eretrians and Eubaeans added five more.
Aristagoras, thus supplied, resolved to act with vigour, and having collected all his forces together, set sail for Ephesus; where, leaving his fleet, he entered the Persian frontiers, and marched by land to Sardis, the capital city of Lydia. Artaphernes, who resided there as the Persian viceroy, finding the city untenable, resolved to secure himself in the citadel, which he knew could not easily be forced. As most of the houses of this city were built with reeds, and consequently very combustible, one of the houses being set on fire by an Ionian soldier, the flames quickly spread to all the rest. Thus the whole town was quickly reduced to ashes, and numbers of the inhabitants slain. But the Persians were soon avenged for this unnecessary cruelty, for either recovering themselves from their former panic, or being reinforced by the Lydians, they charged the Ionians in a body, and drove them back with great slaughter. Nor was the pursuit discontinued even as far as Ephesus, where the vanquished and the victors arriving together, a great carnage ensued, and but a small part of the routed army escaped, which took shelter aboard the fleet, or in the neighbouring cities. Other defeats followed after this. The Athenians intimidated with such a commencement of ill-success, could not be persuaded to continue the war. The Cyprians were obliged once more to submit to the Persian yoke. The Ionians lost most of their towns one after the other, and Aristagoras flying into Thrace, was cut off by the inhabitants with all his forces.
In the mean time, Histiaeus, who was the original cause of all these misfortunes, finding that he began to be suspected in Persia, left that court under a pretence of going to quell those troubles, which he had all along secretly fomented, but his duplicity of conduct rendered him now suspicious to either party. Artaphernes, the Persian viceroy, plainly accused him of treachery, while his own Milesians refused to admit him as their master. Thus wavering, uncertain, and not knowing where to turn, having picked up a few scattered remains of the routed armies, he fell in with Harpagus, one of the Persian generals, who routed his forces, and made Histiaeus himself a prisoner. Being sent to Artaphernes, that inhuman commander immediately caused him to be crucified, and ordered his head to be sent to Darius, who received the present with that disgust which evidenced his superior humanity. He wept over it with a friendly sorrow, and ordered that it should receive honourable interment.
In the mean time, the affairs of the Ionian confederacy every day became more desperate. The Persian generals finding that Miletus was the city which they chiefly depended on, resolved to march thither with all their forces, concluding, that having carried that city, all the rest would submit of course. The Ionians having intelligence of this design, determined in a general assembly, to make no opposition by land, where the Persians were too powerful; but to fortify Miletus, and exert all their efforts by sea, where they hoped for the advantage from their superior skill in naval evolutions. They accordingly assembled a fleet of three hundred ships at a little island over against Miletus, and on the superiority of this fleet they placed their whole reliance. But the Persian gold effected what their arms were unable to compass. Their emissaries having secretly debauched the greatest part of the confederates, and engaged them to desert; when the two fleets came to engage, the ships of Samos, Lesbos, and several other places, sailed off, and returned to their own country. Thus the remaining part of the fleet, which did not amount to more than an hundred ships, was quickly overpowered, and almost totally destroyed.
After this the city of Miletus was besieged, and was easily taken. All the other cities, as well on the continent as among the islands, were forced to return to their duty. Those who continued obstinate were treated with great severity. The handsomest of the young men were chosen to serve in the king's palace, and the young women were all sent into Persia. Thus ended the revolt of the Ionians, which continued six years from its first breaking out under Aristagoras, and this was the third time the Ionians were obliged to undergo the yoke of foreign dominion, for they inherited a natural love of freedom, which all the Greeks were known to possess.
The Persians having thus subdued the greatest part of Asia Minor, began to look towards Europe, as offering conquests worthy their ambition. The assistance given the Ionians by the Athenian fleet, and the refusal of that state to admit Hippias as their king, the taking of Sardis, and the contempt they testified for the Persian power, were all sufficient motives for exciting the resentment of that empire, and for marking out all Greece for destruction. Darius, therefore, in the twenty-eighth year of his reign, having recalled all his other generals, sent Mardonius, the son of Gobryas, a young nobleman who had lately married one of the king's daughters, to command in chief throughout all the maritime parts of Asia; and, particularly, to revenge the burning of Sardis. This was an offence which that monarch seemed peculiarly to resent, and from the time of that conflagration, he had given orders for one of his attendants every time he sat down to table, to cry out,
remember the Athenians.
Mardonius, willing to second his master's animosity, quickly passed into Thrace at the head of a large army, and so terrified the inhabitants of that country, that they yielded implicit obedience to his power. From thence he set sail for Macedonia, but his fleet attempting to double the Cape of Mount Athos, in order to gain the coasts of that country, they were attacked by so violent a tempest, that upwards of three hundred ships were sunk, and above twenty thousand men perished in the sea. His land army, that took the longest way about, met, at the same time, with equal distresses. For being encamped in a place of no security, the Thracians attacked them by night, and made a great slaughter among the enemy. Mardonius himself was wounded, and finding his army unable to maintain the field, he returned to the Persian court covered with grief and confusion, having miscarried both by sea and land.
But the ill success of one or two campaigns was not sufficient to abate the resentment, or the ardour of the king of Persia. Possessed as he was of resources almost inexhaustible, wealth without end, and armies that seemed to encrease from defeat, he only grew more determined from every repulse, and doubled his preparations in proportion to his former failures. He now perceived that the youth and inexperience of Mardonius were unequal to so great an undertaking, he, therefore, displaced him, and appointed two generals, Datis, a Mede, and Artaphernes, the son of him who was late governor of Sardis, in his stead. His thoughts were earnestly bent on attacking Greece with all his forces; he wished to take a signal revenge upon Athens, which he considered as the principal caufe of the late revolt in Ionia: besides, Hippias was still near him to warm his ambition, and keep his resentment alive. Greece, he said, was now an object for such a conqueror; the world had long beheld it with an eye of admiration, and if not soon humbled, it might in time supplant even Persia in the homage of the world.
Thus excited by every motive of ambition and revenge, Darius resolved to bend all his attention to a war with Greece. He had in the beginning of his reign sent spies with one Democedes, a Greek physician, as their conductor, to bring him information with respect to the strength and situation of all the states of Greece. This secret deputation failed; he was, therefore, willing once more to send men under the character of heralds, to denounce his resentment; and, at the same time, to learn how the different states of the country stood affected towards him. The form used by the Persians, when they expected submission from lesser states, was to demand earth and water in the monarch's name, and such as refused were to be considered as opposers of the Persian power. On the arrival, therefore, of the heralds amongst the Greeks, many of the cities, dreading the Persian power, complied with their demands. The Eginetans, with some of the islands also, yielded up a ready submission, and almost all but Athens and Sparta were contented to exchange their liberties for safety.
But these two noble republics bravely disdained to acknowledge the Persian power; they had felt the benefits of freedom, and were resolved to maintain it to the last. Instead therefore of offering up earth and water as demanded, they threw the heralds, the one into a well, the other into a ditch, and adding mockery to insult, desired them to take earth and water from thence. This they probably did to cut off all hopes of a reconciliation, and to leave no safety but in perseverance and despair.
Nor were the Athenians content with this outrage, but resolved also to punish the Aeginetans, who, by a base submission to the Persian power, had betrayed the common cause of Greece. They accordingly represented the affair to the Spartans, with all its aggravating circumstances, and heightened with that eloquence for which they were famous. Before such judges it was not likely that cowardice or timidity would find many defenders; the Spartans immediately gave judgment against the people of Aegina, and sent Cleomenes, one of their kings, to apprehend the authors of so base a concession. The people of Aegina, however, refused to deliver them, under pretence that Cleomenes came without his colleague. This colleague was Demaratus, who had himself secretly furnished them with that excuse. As soon as Cleomenes was returned to Sparta, in order to be revenged on Demaratus for thus counteracting the demands of his country, he endeavoured to get him deposed, as not being of the royal family. In fact, Demaratus was born only seven months after marriage, and this was supposed by many to be a sufficient proof of his bastardy. This accusation, therefore, being revived, the Pythian oracle was appointed to determine the controversy; and the priestess being privately suborned by Cleomenes, an answer was given against his colleague just as he had dictated. Demaratus thus being declared illegitimate, and unable to endure so gross an injury, banished himself from his country, and retired to Darius, who received him with great friendship, and gave him a considerable settlement in Persia. He was succeeded in the throne by Leotychides, who concurring with the views of Cleomenes, punished the Aeginetans, by placing ten of their most guilty citizens in the hands of the Athenians; while Cleomenes, some time after, being detected of having suborned the priestess, slew himself in a fit of despair.
On the other hand, the Aeginetans complained of the severity of their treatment, but finding no likelihood of redress, they resolved to obtain that justice by force which was refused to their supplications. Accordingly, they intercepted an Athenian ship, which in pursuance of an annual custom ever since the times of Theseus, was going to Delos to offer sacrifice. This produced a naval war between these two states; in which, after a variety of fortunes, the Aeginetans were worsted, and the Athenians possessed themselves of the sovereignty of the seas. Thus these civil discords, which seemed at first to favour the designs of the common enemy, turned out to the general advantage of Greece. For the Athenians thus acquiring great power at sea, were put in a capacity of facing the Persian fleets, and of cutting off those supplies which were continually carrying to their armies by land.
In the mean time, the preparations on both sides for a general war, were carried on with the greatest animosity and dispatch. Darius sent away his generals, Datis and Artaphernes, whom he had appointed in the room of Mardonius, to what he supposed a certain conquest. They were furnished with a fleet of six hundred ships, and an army of an hundred and twenty thousand men; their instructions were, to give up Athens and Eretria, a little city which had joined in the league against him, to be plundered; to burn all the houses and temples of both, and to lead away all the inhabitants into slavery. The country was to be laid desolate, and the army was provided with a sufficient supply of chains and fetters for binding the conquered nations.
To oppose this formidable invasion, the Athenians had only their courage, their animosity, their dread of slavery, their discipline
and about ten thousand men. Their civil commotions with the other states of Greece had given them a spirit of war and stratagem, while the genius of their citizens, continually excited and exercised, was arrived at its highest pitch, and fitted them for every danger. Athens had long been refining in all those arts which qualifies a state to extend, or to enjoy conquest; every citizen was a statesman and a general, and every soldier considered himself as one of the bulwarks of his country. But in this little state, from whence first flowed all these improvements that have since adorned and civilized society, there was at that time three men who were considered as superiors to all the rest, all remarkable for their abilities in war, and their integrity in peace, for those qualifications that can advance the glory of states, or procure the happiness of the individual.
Of these Miltiades, as being the most experienced, was at that time the most known. He was the son of Cimon, and nephew of Miltiades, an illustrious Athenian, who accepted the government of the Dolonci, a people of the Thracian Chersonesus. Old Miltiades dying without issue, he was succeeded in his government by Stesagoras his nephew, and he also dying, young Militades was chosen as his successor. He was appointed to that government the same year that Darius undertook his unsuccessful expedition against the Scythians. He was obliged to attend that prince as far as the Ister with what shipping he was able to supply; but ever eager to throw off the Persian yoke, it was he who advised the Ionians to destroy the bridge, and leave the army of Darius to its fate. When the affairs of the continent began to decline, Miltiades, rather than live in dependence, resolved to return once more to Athens; and thither he returned with five ships, which were all that remained of his shattered fortunes.
At the same time, two other citizens, younger than Miltiades, began to distinguish themselves at Athens, namely, Aristides and Themistocles. These were of very different dispositions; but from this difference resulted the greatest advantages to their country. Themistocles was naturally inclined to a popular government, and omitted nothing that could render him agreeable to the people, or gain him friends. His complaisance was boundless, and his desire to oblige sometimes out-stepped the bounds of duty. His partiality was often conspicuous. Somebody talking with him once on the subject, told him he would make an excellent magistrate if he had more impartiality:
God forbid, replied he, that I should ever sit upon a tribunal where my friends should find no more favour than strangers.
Aristides was as remarkable for his justice and integrity. Being a favourer of aristocracy, in imitation of Lycurgus, he was friendly, but never at the expence of justice. In seeking honours, he ever declined the interests of his friends, lest they should, in turn, demand his interest when his duty was to be impartial. The love of the public good was the great spring of all his actions, and with that in view no difficulties could daunt him, no success or elevation exalt. On all occasions he preserved his usual calmness of temper, being persuaded that he was entirely his country's, and very little his own. One day when an actor was repeating some lines from Aeschylus on the stage, coming to a passage which described a man as not desiring to appear honest, but to be so, the whole audience cast their eyes on Aristides, and applied the passage. In the administration of public offices, his whole aim was to perform his duty without any thought of enriching himself.
Such were the characters of the illustrious Athenians that led the councils of the state when Darius turned his arms against Greece. These inspired their fellow-citizens with a noble confidence in the justice of their cause, and made all the preparations against the coming invasion that prudence and deliberate valour could suggest. In the mean time, Datis and Artaphernes led on their numerous forces towards Europe; and after having made themselves masters of the islands in the Aegean sea without any opposition, they turned their course towards Eretria, that city which had formerly assisted the Ionians in their revolt. The Eretrians, now driven to the last extremity, saw no hopes of meeting their enemy in the field, wherefore they sent back four thousand men that the Athenians had supplied them with, and resolved patiently to stand a siege. For six days the Persians attempted to storm the city, and were repulsed with loss; but on the seventh, the city, by the treachery of some of the principal inhabitants, being betrayed into their hands, they entered, plundered, and burned it. The inhabitants were put in chains, and sent as the first fruits of war to the Persian monarch; but he, contrary to their expectation, treated them with great lenity, and gave them a village in the country of Cissa for their residence, where Apollonius Tyanaeus found their descendants six hundred years after.
After such splendid success at Eretria, nothing now remained but the apparently easy conquest of Greece. Hippias, the expelled tyrant of Athens, still accompanied the Persian army, and led them by the safest marches into the heart of the country; at length, flushed with victory and certain of success, he conducted them to the plains of Marathon, a fertile valley but ten miles distant from Athens. From thence they sent to summon the citizens, acquainting them with the fate of Fretria, and informing them that not a single inhabitant had escaped their vengeance. But the Athenians were not to be intimidated by any vicinity of danger. They had sent indeed to Sparta to implore succours against the common enemy, which were granted without deliberation; but the superstition of the times rendered their assistance ineffectual, for it was an established law among the Spartans not to begin a march before the full moon. They applied also to other states, but they were too much awed by the power of Persia to move in their defence. An army of an hundred and twenty thousand men, exulting in the midst of their country, was too formidable for a weak and jealous confederacy to oppose. The inhabitants of Platea alone furnished them with a thousand soldiers, and they were left to find all other assistance in their courage and their despair.
In this extremity they were obliged to arm their slaves for the safety of all, and their forces thus united amounted to but ten thousand men. Hoping therefore to derive from their discipline what they wanted in power, they placed their whole army under the conduct of ten generals, of whom Miltiades was chief, and these each was to have the command of the troops day about in regular succession. An arrangement in itself so unpromising, was still more embarrassed by the generals themselves disputing whether they should hazard a battle, or wait the approach of the enemy within their walls. The latter opinion seemed for a while to prevail; it was urged that it would be rashness itself to face so powerful and well appointed an army with an handful of men. It was alledged that the soldiers would gather courage from their security behind their walls, and that the forces of Sparta without, might make a diversion in case of a sally from within. Militades, however, declared for the contrary opinion, and shewed that the only means to exalt the courage of their own troops, and to strike a terror into those of the enemy, was to advance boldly toward them with an air of confidence and desperate intrepidity. Aristides also strenuously embraced this opinion, and exerted all his masculine eloquence to bring over the rest. The question being put, when the suffrages came to be taken, the opinions were equal on either side of the argument. It now therefore remained with Callimachus, the Polemarch, who had a right of voting as well as the ten commanders, to give his opinion and decide this important debate. It was to him Miltiades addressed himself with the utmost earnestness, alledging that the fate of his country was now in his power; that his single vote was to determine whether his country should be enslaved or free; that his fame might now, by a single word, be made equal to that of Harmodius and Aristogiton, who were the authors of Athenian liberty. Thus exhorted, Callimachus did not long debate, but gave his voice in favour of an open engagement; and Miltiades, thus seconded, prepared to marshal up his little army for the great encounter.
In the mean time it appeared that so many leaders commanding in succession, only served to perplex and counteract each other. Aristides perceived that a command which changes every day, must be incapable of projecting or executing any uniform design; he therefore gave it as his opinion that it was necessary to invest the whole power in one single person, and to induce his colleagues to conform, he himself set the first example of resignation. When the day came on which it was his turn to command, he resigned it to Miltiades as the more able and experienced general, while the other commanders, warmed by so generous a preserence followed his example.
Miltiades thus vested in the supreme command, which was now the post of highest danger, like an experienced general, endeavoured, by the advantage of his ground, to make up for his deficiency in strength and numbers He was sensible that by extending his front to oppose the enemy, he must weaken it too much, and give their dense body the advantage. He therefore drew up his army at the foot of a mountain, so that the enemy should not surround him or charge him in the rear. On the flanks on either side he caused large trees to be thrown, which were cut down for that purpose, and these served to guard him from the Persian cavalry, that generally wheeled on the flank in the heat of an engagement.
Datis, on his side, was sensible of this advantageous disposition, but relying on his superiority of numbers, and unwilling to wait till the Spartan reinforcements should arrive, he determined to engage. And now was to be fought the first great battle which the Greeks had ever engaged in. It was not like any of their former civil contests arising from jealousy and terminating in an easy accommodation: it was a battle that was to be decided with the greatest monarch of the earth, with the most numerous army that had been hitherto seen in Europe. This was an engagement that was to decide the liberty of Greece, and, what was of infinitely greater moment, the future progress of refinement among mankind. Upon the event of this battle depended the complexion which the manners of the West were hereafter to assume, whether they were to adopt Asiatic customs with their conquerors, or to go on in modelling themselves upon Grecian refinements, as was afterwards the case. This theresore may be considered as one of the most important battles that ever was fought, and the event was as little to be expected as the success was glorious.
The signal was no sooner given than the Athenians, without waiting the Persian onset, rushed in upon their ranks with desperate rapidity, as if wholly regardless of safety. The Persians regarded this first step of the Athenians as the result of madness, and were more inclined to despise them as maniacs, than oppose them as soldiers. However, they were quickly undeceived. It had never before been the custom of the Greeks to run on with this headlong valour; but comparing the number of their own forces with that of the enemy, and expecting safety only from rashness, they determined to break through the enemies ranks or fall in the attempt. The greatness of their danger added to their courage, and despair did the rest. The Persians, however, stood their ground with great intrepidity, and the battle was long, fierce, and obstinate. Miltiades had made the wings of his army exceeding strong, but had left the main body more weak and not so deep, for having but ten thousand men to oppose to such a numerous army, he supposed the victory could be obtained by no other means than strengthening his flanks, not doubting but when his wings were once victorious, they would be able to wheel upon the enemies main body on either side, and thus put them easily to the rout. The Persians, therefore, finding the main body weakest, attacked it with their utmost vigour. It was in vain that Aristides and Themistocles, who were stationed in this post of danger, endeavoured to keep their troops to the charge. Courage and intrepidity were unable to resist the torrent of encreasing numbers, so that they were at last obliged to give ground. But in the mean time the wings were victorious, and now, just as the main body was fainting under the unequal encounter, these came up and gave them time to recover their strength and order. Thus the scale of victory quickly began to turn in their favour, and the Persians, from being the aggressors, now began to give ground in turn, and being unsupported by fresh forces, they fled to their ships with the utmost precipitation. The confusion and disorder was now universal, the Athenians followed them to the beach and sat many of their ships on fire. On this occasion it was that Cyndaeyrus, the brother of the poet Aeschylus, seized with his hand one of the ships that the enemy was pushing off from the shore. The Persians, within seeing themselves thus arrested, cut off his right hand that held the prow, he then laid hold of it with his left, which they also cut off, at last he seized it with his teeth, and in that manner expired.
Seven of the enemies ships were taken, above six thousand Persians were slain, without reckoning those who were drowned in the sea as they endeavoured to escape, or those who were consumed when the ships were set on fire. Of the Greeks not above two hundred men were killed, among whom was Callimachus, who gave his vote for bringing on the engagement. Hippias, who was the chief incendiary of the war, is also thought to have fallen in this battle, though some say he escaped and died miserably at Lemnos.
Such was the famous battle of Marathon, which the Persians were so sure of gaining, that they had brought marble into the field in order to erect a trophy there. Just after the battle an Athenian soldier, whose name was Eucles, still covered all over with blood and wounds, quitted the army and ran to Athens to carry his fellow-citizens the news of the victory. His strength just sufficed to reach the city, and throwing himself into the door of the first house he met, he uttered three words,
Rejoice, we triumph,
and instantly expired.
While a part of the army marched forward to Athens, to protect it from the attempts of the enemy, Aristides remained upon the field of battle to guard the spoil and the prisoners; and although gold and silver were scattered about the enemy's deserted camp in abundance, though their tents and gallies were full of rich furniture and sumptuous apparel, he would not permit any of it to be embezzled, but reserved it as a common reward for all who had any share in obtaining the victory. Two thousand Spartans also, whose laws would not permit them to march until the full of the moon, now came into the field, but the action being over the day before, they only had an opportunity of paying due honours to those who gained so glorious a victory, and to bring back the news to Sparta. Of the marble which the Persians had brought with them, the Athenians made a trophy, being carved by Phidias into a statue, in honour of the goddess Nemesis, who had a temple near the field of battle.
In the mean time, the Persian fleet, instead of sailing directly back to Asia, made an attempt to surprise Athens before the Greek forces could arrive from Marathon. But the latter had the precaution to move directly thither, and performed their march with so much expedition, that though it was forty miles from Marathon, they arrived there in one day. In this manner the Greeks not only repelled their enemies, but confirmed their security. By this victory the Grecians were taught to know their own strength, and not to tremble before an enemy terrible only in name. This taught them through the whole of succeeding ages to imitate their ancestors with an ardent emulation, and inspired them with a wish of not degenerating from the Grecian glory. Those Athenians that were slain in battle had all the honour immediately paid them that was due to their merit. Illustrious monuments were erected to them all in the very place where the battle was fought, upon which their names, and the tribe to which they belonged, were inscribed. There were three distinct sets of monuments set up; one for the Athenians, one for the Plataeans, and a third for the slaves who had been enrolled into their troops upon that urgent occasion.
But their gratitude to Miltiades spoke a nobleness of mind, that far surpassed expensive triumphs, or base adulation. Sensible that his merits were too great for money to repay, they caused a picture to be painted by Polygnotus, one of their most celebrated artists, where Miltiades was represented at the head of the ten commanders exhorting the soldiers, and setting them an example of their duty. This picture was preserved for many ages, with other paintings of the best masters, in the portico where Zeno afterwards instituted his school of philosophy. An emulation seemed to take place in every rank of life; Polygnotus valued himself so much upon the honour of being appointed to paint this picture, that he gave his labour for nothing. In return for such generosity, the Amphyctions appointed him a public lodging in the city where he might reside during pleasure.
A. M. 3514.
But though the gratitude of the Athenians to Miltiades was very sincere, yet was it of no long continuance. This fickle and jealous people, naturally capricious, and now more than ever careful of preserving their freedom, were willing to take every opportunity of mortifying a general, from whose merit they had much to fear. Being appointed with seventy ships to punish those islands that had favoured the Persian invasion, and having raised the siege of Paros, upon a false report of the arrival of the enemy's fleet, he returned unsuccessfully to Athens, where he was accused by one Xanthippus, of having taken a bribe from Persia. As he was not in a condition to answer this charge, being confined to his bed by a fall he received at Paros; the accusation took place against him, and he was condemned to lose his life. The manner of executing criminals found guilty of great offences, was by throwing them into the Barathrum, a deep pit, from whence none were ever seen to return. This sentence was pronounced against him, but his former services were such, as to have this punishment commuted into a penalty of fifty talents, the sum which it had cost the state in fitting out the late unsuccessful expedition. Not being rich enough to pay this sum, he was thrown into prison, where the bruise on his thigh growing worse, from bad air and confinement, it turned at last to a gangrene, and put an end to his life and misfortunes.
Cimon, his son, who was at this time very young, signalized his piety on this occasion. As this ungrateful city would not permit the body of Miltiades to be buried until all his debts were paid, this young man employed all his interest among his friends, and strained his utmost credit to pay the fine, and procured his father's body an honourable interment.
CHAP. IV. From the Death of MILTIADES to the Retreat of XERXES out of Greece.
THE misfortunes of Darius only served to encrease his resentment, and give spirit to his perseverance. Finding the ill success of his generals, he resolved to try the war in person, and dispatched orders throughout his whole dominions for fresh preparations. However, a revolt in Egypt for a while averted his resentment, a contest among his sons about nominating his successor still farther retarded his designs; and, at last, when he had surmounted every obstacle, and was just preparing to take a signal vengeance, his death put an end to all his projects, and gave Greece a longer time for preparation.
Xerxes, his son, succeeded, who, with the empire, inherited also his father's animosity against Greece. Having carried on a successful expedition against Egypt, he expected the same good fortune in Europe. Confident of victory, he did not chuse, he said, for the future to buy the figs of Attica; he would possess himself of the country, and thus have figs of his own. But, before he engaged in an enterprize of that importance, he thought proper to assemble his council, and collect the opinions of the principal officers of his court. In his speech at opening the council, he evidently shewed his desire of revenge, and his passion for military glory. The best way, therefore, to pay court to this young monarch, was by flattering him in his favourite pursuits, and giving his impetuous aims the air of studied designs. Mardonius, grown neither wiser nor less ambitious by his own bad success, began by extolling Xerxes above all other kings that had gone before. He urged the indispensible necessity of avenging the dishonour done to the Persian name; he represented the Greeks as cowards, that were accidently successful, and was firmly of opinion, that they would never more stand even the hazard of a battle. A discourse that so nearly conincided with his own sentiments, was very pleasing to the young monarch, and the rest of the company by their looks, and their silence, seemed to applaud his impetuosity. But Artabanus, the king's uncle, who had long learned to reverence courage even in an enemy, and presuming upon his age and experience, to speak his real sentiments, rose with an honest freedom to represent the intended expedition in its true light.
"Permit me, sir, said he, to deliver my sentiments upon this occasion with a liberty suitable to my age and your interest. When Darius, your father, and my brother, first thought of making war against the Scythians, I used all my endeavours to divert him from it. The people you are going to attack are infinitely more formidable than they. If the Athenians alone could defeat the numerous army commanded by Datis and Artaphernes, what ought we to expect from an opposition of all the states of Greece united? You design to pass from Asia into Europe, by laying a bridge over the sea. But what if the Athenians should advance and destroy this bridge, and so prevent our return? Let us not expose ourselves to such dangers, as we have no sufficient motives to compel us to face them; at least let us take time to reflect upon it. When we have maturely deliberated upon an affair, whatever happens to be the success of it, we have nothing to regret. Precipitation is imprudent, and is usually unsuccessful. Above all, do not suffer yourself, great prince, to be dazzled with the splendor of imaginary glory. The highest and the most lofty trees have the most reason to dread the thunder. God loves to humble the ostentatious, and reserves to himself alone the pride of importance. As for you, Mardonius, who so earnestly urge this expedition, if it must be so, lead it forward. But let the king, whose life is dear to us all, return back to Persia. In the mean time, let your children and mine be given up as a pledge to answer for the success of the war. If the issue be favourable, I consent that mine be put to death, but if it prove otherwise, as I well foresee, then I desire that you and your children may meet the reward of rashness."
This advice, which was rather sincere than palatable, was received by Xerxes with a degree of rage and resentment.
"Thank the Gods, cried he, that thou art my father's brother; were it not for that thou shouldst this moment meet the just reward of thy audacious behaviour. But you shall have your punishment; remain here behind among the women; these you but too much resemble in your cowardice and fear. Stay here while I march at the head of my troops where my duty and glory call me."
Upon cooler thoughts, however, Xerxes seemed better reconciled to his uncle's opinion. When the first emotions of his anger were over, and he had time to reflect on his pillow upon the different counsels that were given him, he confessed the rashness of his former rebuke, and ingenuously ascribed it to heat of youth and the ardour of passion. He offered to come over to his opinion, at the same time assuring the council, that from his dreams he had every encouragement to proceed with the expedition. So much condescension on the one hand, and such favourable omens on the other, determined the whole council to second his inclinations. They fell prostrate before him, eager to shew their subm
ssion and their joy. A monarch thus surrounded by flatterers, all striving which should most gratify his pride and passions, could not long continue good, though naturally inclined to virtue. Xerxes therefore seems a character thus ruined by power, exerting his natural justice and wisdom at short intervals, but then giving way to the most culpable and extravagant excesses. Thus the counsel of Arrabanes being rejected, and that of Mardonius favourably received, the most extensive preparations were made for carrying on the war.
The greatness of these preparations seemed to shew the high sense which the Persians had of their enemy. Xerxes, that he might omit nothing conducive to success, entered into an alliance with the Carthaginians, who were, at that time, the most potent people of the West; with whom it was stipulated, that while the Persian forces should attack Greece, the Carthaginians should awe the Greek colonies, dispersed over the Mediterranean, from coming to their assistance. Thus having drained all the East to compose his own army, and the West to supply that of the Carthaginians under Amilcar, he set out from Susa in order to enter upon this war,
A. M. 3523.
ten years after the battle of Marathon.
Sardis was the place where the various nations that were compelled to his banner were to assemble. His fleet was to advance along the coasts of Asia Minor towards the Hellespont. But as in doubling the cape of Mount Athos many shipwrecks were sustained, he was resolved to cut a passage through that neck of land which joined the mountain to the continent, and thus give his shipping a shorter and safer passage. This canal was a mile and a half long, and hollowed out from a high mountain; it required immense labour to perform so great a work, but his numbers and his ambition were sufficient to surmount all difficulties. To urge on the undertaking the faster, he treated his labourers with the greatest severity, while with all the ostentation of an Eastern prince he gave his commands to the mountain to sink before him:
Athos, thou proud aspiring mountain, that liftest up thy head unto the heavens, be not so audacious as to put obstacles in my way. If thou givest them that opposition, I will cut thee level to the plain, and throw thee headlong into the sea.
As this monarch passed on in his march to the place of general destination, he went through Cappadocia, crossed the river Halys, and came to Calene, a city of Phrygia, near the source of the river Meander. He was there met by Pythias, a Lydian prince, who, by the most extreme parsimony and oppression, had become, next to Xerxes, the most opulent man in all the Persian empire. His treasures, however, were not sufficient to buy off the attendance of his eldest son, whom he requested might be permitted to remain with him, as he was old and helpless. He had before offered his money, which amounted to about four millions sterling, for the monarch's use; but this Xerxes had refused, and now, finding the young prince willing to remain with his father, he was so enraged that he commanded him to be put to death before his father's eyes. Then causing the dead body to be cut in two, and one part of it to be placed on the right, and the other on the left, he made the whole army pass between them to terrify them from a reluctance to engage by his example.
From Phrygia Xerxes marched to Sardis, and, in the opening of spring, directed his march down towards the Hellespont, where his fleet lay in all their pomp, expecting his arrival. Here being arrived, he was desirous of taking a survey of all his forces, which composed an army which was never equalled either before or since. It was composed of the most powerful nations of the East, and of people scarce known to posterity except by name. The remotest India contributed its supplies, while the coldest tracts of Scythia sent their assistance. Medes, Persians, Bactrians, Lydians, Assyrians, Hyrcanians, and an hundred other countries of various forms, complexions, languages, dresses, and arms. The land army, which he brought out of Asia, consisted of seventeen hundred thousand foot, and fourscore thousand horse. Three hundred thousand more that were added upon crossing the Hellespont, made all his land forces together amount to above two millions of men. His fleet when it set out from Asia, consisted of twelve hundred and seven vessels, each carrying two hundred men. The Europeans augmented his fleet with an hundred and twenty vessels, each of which carried two hundred men. Besides these there were two thousand smaller vessels fitted for carrying provisions and stores; the men contained in these, with the former, amounted to six hundred thousand, so that the whole army might be said to amount to two millions and an half, which, with the women, slaves, and futtlers, always accompanying a Persian army, might make the whole above five millions of souls: a number, if rightly conducted, capable of overturning the greatest monarchy, but being commanded by presumption and ignorance, they only served to obstruct and embarrass each other.
Lord of so many and such various subjects, Xerxes found a pleasure in reviewing his forces, and was desirous of beholding a naval engagement, of which he had not hitherto been a spectator. To this end a throne was erected for him upon an eminence, and in that situation beholding all the earth covered with his troops, and all the sea crowded with his vessels, he felt a secret joy diffuse itself through his frame from the consciousness of his own superior power. But all the workings of this monarch's mind were in extreme, a sudden sadness soon took place of his pleasure, and dissolving in a shower of tears, he gave himself up to a reflection that not one of so many thousand would be alive a hundred years after.
Artabanus, who neglected no opportunity of moralizing upon every occurrence, took this occasion to discourse with him upon the shortness and miseries of human life. Finding this more distant subject attended to, he spoke more closely to the present occasion, insinuated his doubts of the success of the expedition; urged the many inconveniencies the army had to suffer, if not from the enemy, at least from their own numbers. He alledged, that plagues, famine, and confusion, were the necessary attendants of such ungovernable multitudes by land, and that empty fame was the only reward of success. But it was now too late to turn this young monarch from his purpose. Xerxes informed his monitor that great actions were always attended with proportionable danger, and that if his predecessors had observed such scrupulous and timorous rules of conduct, the Persian empire would never have attained to its present height of glory.
Xerxes, in the mean time, had given orders for building a bridge of boats across the Hellespont for the transporting his army into Europe. This narrow streight, which now goes by the name of the Dardanels, is near an English mile over. But soon after the completion of this work, a violent storm arising, the whole was broken and destroyed, and the labour was to be undertaken anew. The fury of Xerxes upon this disappointment was attended with equal extravagance and cruelty. His vengeance knew no bounds; the workmen who had undertaken the task, had their heads struck off by his order; and that the sea itself also might know its duty, he ordered it to be lashed as a delinquent, and a pair of fetters to be thrown into it to curb its future irregularities. Thus having given vent to his absurd resentment, two bridges were ordered to be built in the place of the former, one for the army to pass over, and the other for the baggage and the beasts of burthen. The workmen, now warned by the fate of their predecessors, undertook to give their labours greater stability, they placed three hundred and sixty vessels across the streight, some of them having three banks of oars, and others fifty oars a piece. They then cast large anchors into the water on both sides, in order to fix these vessels against the violence of the winds, and the current. They then drove large piles into the earth, with huge rings fastened to them, to which were tied six vast cables which went over each of the two bridges. Over all these they laid trunks of trees, cut purposely for that use, and flat boats again over them fastened and joined together, so as to serve for a floor or solid bottom. When the whole work was thus completed, a day was appointed for their passing over, and as soon as the first rays of the sun began to appear, sweet odours of all kinds were abundantly scattered over the new work, and the way was strewed with myrtle. At the same time Xerxes poured out libations into the sea, and turning his face towards the East, worshipped that bright luminary which is the god of the Persians. Then, throwing the vessel which had held his libation into the sea, together with a golden cup and Persian scymetar, he went forward and gave orders for the army to follow. This immense train were no less than seven days and seven nights passing over, while those who were appointed to conduct the march quickened the troops by lashing them along, for the soldiers of the East, at that time and to this very day, are treated like slaves.
Thus this immense army having landed in Europe, and being joined by the several nations of Europe that acknowledged the Persian power, Xerxes prepared for marching directly forward into Greece. Beside the generals of every nation, who each of them commanded the troops of their respective countries, the land army was commanded by six Persian generals, to whom all the rest were subordinate. These were Mardonius, Tirintatechmus, Smerdonus, Massistus, Gergis, and Megabyzus. Ten thousand Persians, who were called the Immortal Band, were commanded by Hydarnes, while the cavalry and the fleet had their own respective commanders. Beside those who were attached to Xerxes from principle, there were some Greek princes, who, either from motives of interest or fear, followed him in this expedition. Among these were Artemisia, queen of Hallicarnassus, who, after the death of her husband, governed the kingdom for her son. She had brought in
eed but the trifling succour of five ships, but she had made ample amends by her superior prudence, courage, and conduct. Of this number also was Demaratus, the exiled king of Sparta, who, resenting the indignity put upon him by his subjects, took refuge in the Persian court, an indignant spectator of its luxuries and slavish submission. Being one day asked by Xerxes if he thought the Grecians would dare to await his approach, or would venture an engagement with armies that drank up whole rivers in their march.
Alas, great prince, cried Demaratus, Greece, from the beginning of time, has been trained up and accustomed to poverty; but the defects of that are amply recompensed by virtue, which wisdom cultivates, and the laws support in vigour. As for the Lacedaemonians, as they have been bred up in freedom, they can never submit to be slaves. Though all the rest of the Greeks should forsake them, though they should be reduced to a band of a thousand man, yet still they would face every danger to preserve what they hold dearer than life. They have laws which they obey with more implicit reverence than your subjects are obeyed by you. By these laws they are forbid to fly in battle, and they have only the alternative to conquer or to die."
Xerxes was not offended with the liberty of Demaratus, but, smiling at his blunt sincerity, ordered his army to march forward, while he had directed his fleet to follow him along the coast, and to regulate their course by his motions.
In this manner he pursued his course without any interruption, every nation near which he approached sending him all the marks of homage and subjection. Wherever he came he found provisions and refreshments prepared before-hand, pursuant to the orders he had given. Every city he arrived at, exhausted itself in giving him the most magnificent reception. The vast expence of these feasts gave a poor Thracian an opportunity of remarking, that it was a peculiar favour of the gods that Xerxes could eat but one meal a day. Thus did he continue his march through Thrace, Macedonia, and Thessaly, every knee bending before him till he came to the streights of Thermopylae, where he first found an army prepared to dispute his passage.
This army was a body of Spartans, led on by Leonidas their king, who had been sent thither to oppose him. As soon as it was known in Greece that Xerxes was preparing to invade that country, and that an army of millions were coming on with determined resolution to ruin it, every state seemed differently affected in proportion to its strength, its courage, or its situation. The Sicilians refused their aid, being kept in awe by Amilcar the Carthaginian. The Corcyreans pretended that they were wind-bound, and would not let their ships stir from the harbour. The Cretans, having consulted the Delphic oracle, absolutely determined to remain inactive. The Thessalians and Macedonians, from their situation, were obliged to submit to the conqueror, so that no states were found bold enough to face this formidable army but Athens and Lacedaemon. These states had received intelligence of the Persian designs from Demaratus, long before they had been put into execution. They had also sent spies to Sardis, in order to have a more exact information of the number and quality of the enemy's forces. The spies indeed were seized, but Xerxes ordered them to be conducted through his army, and to give an exact account of what they had seen at their return. They had sent deputies to all the neighbouring states to awaken their ardour, to apprise them of their danger, and to urge the necessity of fighting for their common safety. But all their remonstrances were vain; fear, assuming the name of prudence, offered frivolous excuses, or terms which were inadmissible. Relying therefore on their own strength, these generous states resolved to face the danger with joint forces, and conquer or fall in the cause of freedom. Having summoned a general council at the Isthmus, they there solemnly resolved to wave all private quarrels or pretensions, and join against the common danger.
One cannot, without astonishment, reflect on the intrepidity of the Greeks, who determined to face the innumerable army of Xerxes with such disproportioned forces. All their forces joined together amounted only to eleven thousand two hundred men. But they were all soldiers, bred amidst fatigue and danger, all determined to a man either to conquer or die. Their first care, however, was to appoint a general. It was then that the most able and experienced captains, terrified at the danger' had taken the resolution of not presenting themselves as candidates. Epicydes indeed, a man of ignorance, avarice, and presumption, was ready to lead them on, and, under his guidance, nothing could be hoped for but confusion and disappointment. In this pressing juncture, therefore, Themistocles, conscious of his own capacity, and warmed with a love of glory, which was great in proportion to the danger, resolved to use every art to get himself appointed to the command. For this purpose he used all his interest, and even distributed bribes to remove his competitor, and having gratified the avarice of Epycides, which was his ruling passion, he soon found himself appointed to the command, which was the darling object of his ambition.
But in this pressing exigence it was incumbent on the Athenians to avail themselves of every person that might be serviceable, however obnoxious he might appear to their resentment. There were many useful citizens whom they had, upon some factious discontents, sent into banishment, and these they now repentingly wished to restore. Among this number was Aristides, that brave and just man, who had, at the battle of Marathon, and upon other occasions, been instrumental in gaining their victories, and who had, upon all occasions, improved them by the disinterestedness and integrity of his example. This magistrate having had many contests with Themistocles, who was his rival in power and same, and always wished to supplant him, was at length condemned to go into banishment by the power of his prevailing faction. It was on that occasion that a peasant, who could not write, and did not know Aristides personally, applied to himself, and desired him to write the name of Aristides upon the shell by which his vote was given against him.
"Has he done you any wrong, said Aristides, that you are for condemning him in this manner."
"
No, replied the peasant, but I hate to hear him praised for his justice.
"
Aristides, without saying a word more, calmly took the shell, wrote down his own name upon it, and contentedly retired into banishment. But the present distresses of his country were now an object that strongly sollicited his return. Even Themistocles, his rival, was so far from remembering his old resentments, that he now ardently desired the assistance of his counsel, and gave up all his private resentments to the good of the state. The hatred of these great men had nothing in it of that bitter and implacable spirit which prevailed among the Romans in the latter times of the republic, or perhaps the desperate situation of their country might only occupy their thoughts at that time.
But the preparations by land alone were not sufficient to repel the growing danger. If the Greeks had trusted to their land armies without further succour, they must have been undone. Themistocles, who saw that the victory of Marathon must be followed by many more before safety could be ascertained, had prudently caused an hundred gallies to be built, and turned all his thoughts to give Athens a superiority at sea. The oracle had declared some time before that Athens should only defend herself with wooden walls, and he took the advantage of that ambiguity to persuade his countrymen, that by such walls was only meant her shipping. He had the address to procure some money annually coming in from silver mines, which the Athenians had in their district, to the purposes of equipping and manning this fleet, and now, upon the approach of Xerxes, the confederates found themselves at the head of a very powerful squadron of two hundred and eighty sail, the command of which was conferred upon Eurybrades, a Lacedaemonian.
All measures being taken that this brave confederacy could devise, it next remained to settle in what place they should first meet the Persians in the field, in order to dispute their entrance into Greece. The people of Thessaly represented that as they were most exposed and first liable to be attacked by the enemy, it was but reasonable that their security should be the first object of attention. The Greeks, willing to protect all who would declare in their quarrel, in pursuance of this request, resolved to send their chief forces to guard the passage which separates Macedonia from Thessaly, near the river Peneus. But Alexander, the son of Amyntas, representing that post as untenable, they were obliged to change their measures, and at last resolved to send a body of men to guard the pass at Thermopylae where a few were capable of acting against numbers.
Thermopylae was a narrow pass of twenty-five feet broad, between Thessaly and Phocis, defended by the remains of a wall, with gates to it, formerly built by the Phocians, to secure them against the incursions of their neighbouring enemy. From these gates, and some hot baths, which were at the entrance into the pass, the streight had its name. This was pitched upon, as well for the narrowness of the way, as for its vicinity to the sea, from whence the land forces could occasionally receive assistance from the fleet. The command of this important pass was given to Leonidas, one of the kings of Sparta, who led thither a body of six thousand men. Of these, three hundred were Spartans, the rest consisting of Baeotians, Corinthians, Phocians, and Arcadians, all such as in the present exigency were prepared for the field, and were not afraid of the numbers of the enemy. Each of these had particular commanders of their own, but Leonidas had the conduct of the whole. But though the determined resolution of these troops was incapable of being shaken, little was expected from the nature of their destination. They were all along taught to look upon themselves as a forelorn hope, only placed there to check the progress of the enemy, and give them a foretaste of the desperate valour of Greece; nor were even oracles wanting to check their ardour. It had been declared, that to procure the safety of Greece it was necessary that a king, one of the descendants of Hercules, should die. This task was chearfully undertaken by Leonidas; and, as he marched out from Lacedaemon, he considered himself as a willing victim offered up for the good of his country: however, he joyfully put himself at the head of his little band, took possession of his post, and with deliberate desperation waited at Thermopylae for the coming up of the Persian army.
Xerxes, in the mean time, approaching with his numerous army, flushed with success, and confident of victory. His camp exhibited all the marks of eastern magnificence and Asiatic luxury. He expected to meet no obstruction on his way to Greece; he led on his forces rather to terrify the enemy than to fight them; great, therefore, was his surprize, to find that a few desperate men were determined to dispute his passage. He had all along flattered himself, that on the first hearing of his arrival, the Grecians would betake themselves to flight, nor could he ever be persuaded to believe what Demaratus had assured him, that at the first pass he came to, his whole army would be put to a stand. He himself took a view of their camp and entrenchments. The Lacedaemonians were some of them calmly amusing themselves with military exercises, others with combing their long hair. He enquired the reason of this conduct, and he was informed, that it was the Spartan manner of preparing themselves for battle. Still, however, entertaining some hopes of their flight, he waited four days to give them time to reflect on the greatness of their danger, but they still continued gay and unconcerned, as men who regarded death as the end of labour. He sent to them to deliver up their arms. Leonidas, with truly Spartan contempt, desired him to
come and take them.
He offered, if they would lay down their arms, to receive them as friends, and to give them a country much larger and better than what they fought for. No country, they replied, was worth acceptance, unless won by virtue; and that for their arms, they should want them, whether as his friends or enemies. Upon this, the monarch addressed himself to Demaratus, asking, if these desperate men could expect to out-run his horses? Demaratus answered, that they would fight it out to the last, and not a man of them would survive his country's freedom. Some men were heard to say, that the Persians were so numerous, that their darts would darken the sun. Dieneces, a Spartan, replied, Then we shall fight in the shade.
Xerxes, thus treated with contempt, at length ordered a body of Medes to advance, desiring such as had lost any of their relations at the battle of Marathon, to take their revenge upon the present occasion. Accordingly they began the onset, but were repulsed with great loss. The number of the assailants only served to encrease their confusion, and it now began to appear that Xerxes had many followers, but few soldiers. These forces being routed by the Grecian troops, the Persian Immortal Band was brought up, consisting of ten thousand men, to oppose them. But these were as unsuccessful as the former. The charge was renewed the next day, Xerxes endeavouring to inspire his troops with the promises of reward, since he found they were dead to the sense of shame. But though their charge was violent, it was unsupported, and the Greeks standing closely connected in a body, withstood the shock, and filled the way with Persian carcasses. During these unsuccessful assaults, Xerxes was a spectator, sitting upon his throne, placed upon an eminence, and directing the order of battle, impetuous in his pride and resentment, and now and then seen to leap from his seat when he beheld his troops in confusion, or offering to give way.
Thus did the Greeks keep their ground for two days, and no power on earth seemed capable of removing them from their advantageous station. Xerxes, out of all hopes of being able to force a passage, appeared under the greatest consternation; but he was relieved from his embarrassment by the appearance of Epialtes, a Trachinian, who had deserted from the enemy, and undertook to shew his troops a secret path that led through the defiles of the mountains, and through which a body of forces might be led to fall upon the Grecians in the rear. He quickly, therefore, dispatched a body of twenty thousand men thither, who marching all night, arrived at the break of day at the top of the mountain, and possessed themselves of that advantageous post.
The Greeks were soon apprised of this misfortune, and Leonidas seeing that his post was no longer tenable, advised the troops of his allies to retire, and reserve themselves for better times, and the future safety of Greece. As for himself, and his fellow Spartans, they were obliged by their laws not to fly; that he owed a life to his country, and that it was now his duty to fall in its defence. Thus, having dismissed all but his three hundred Spartans, with some Thespians and Thebans, in all not a thousand men, he exhorted his followers in the most chearful manner to prepare for death.
Come, my fellow soldiers, says he,
lets us dine chearfully here, for to-night we shall sup with Pluto.
His men upon hearing his determined purpose, set up a loud shout, as if they had been invited to a banquet, and resolved every man to sell his life as dearly as he could. The night now began to advance, and this was thought the most glorious opportunity of meeting death in the enemy's camp, where the silence would favour desperation, and hide the smallness of their numbers. Thus resolved, they made directly to the Persian tents, and, in the darkness of the night, had almost reached the royal pavilion, with hopes of surprising the king. The obscurity added much to the horror of the scene, and the Persians falling upon each other without distinction, rather assisted the Grecians than defended themselves. Thus success seemed to crown the rashness of their enterprize, until the morning beginning to dawn, the light discovered the smallness of their numbers. They were soon, therefore, surrounded by the Persian forces, who, fearing to fall in upon them, flung their javelins from every quarter, till the Greeks, not so much conquered, as tired with conquering, fell amidst heaps of the slaughtered enemy, leaving behind them an example of intrepidity never known before. Leonidas was one of the first that fell, and the endeavours of the Lacedaemonians to defend his dead body were incredible. It was found after the battle, buried under a mountain of the dead, and was nailed to a cross, by way of infamy, by the brutal victor. Of all the train, two only escaped, whose names were Aristodemus and Panites. The latter, upon his return to Sparta, was branded with infamy, and treated with such contempt, that he killed himself. Aristodemus reserved himself for another occasion, and by his bravery at the battle of Platea recovered that honour which he had lost. Some time after this transaction the Amphyctions ordered a magnificent monument to be erected over these brave defenders of their country, and Simonides, the poet, wrote their epitaph.
Xerxes in this battle is said to have lost twenty thousand men, among which were two of his brothers. But to conceal the greatness of his loss from the army, he caused all but a thousand of those that were slain, to be buried in holes indiscriminately; however, this stratagem had very bad success, for when the soldiers of his fleet were curious some time after in taking a survey of the field of battle, they discovered the artifice, and urged it as an act of flagrant impiety against him.
Dismayed at an obstinacy in the enemy that cost him so dear, Xerxes was for some time more inclined to try his fortune at sea, than to proceed immediately into the country, where he had learned from Demaratus, that eight thousand Spartans, such as he had but lately fought with, were ready to receive him. Accordingly, the very day of the battle of Thermopylae, there was an engagement at sea between the two fleets. The Grecian fleet consisted of two hundred and seventy-one vessels. That of the enemy had lately lost four hundred vessels in a shipwreck, but was still greatly superior to the fleet of the Grecians. To repair this loss by a victory, two hundred Persian vessels had orders to take a compass and surprize the Grecians lying in the streights of Eubaea, but the Grecians being apprized of their designs, set sail by night, and so, by a counter-surprize, fell in with them while they were thus separated from their main squadron, took and sunk thirty, forced the rest to sea, and there, by stress of weather, they were all soon after either sunk or stranded. Enraged at these disappointments, the Persians bore down the next day with their whole fleet, and drawing up in form of an half moon, made an offer of battle, which the Greeks as readily accepted. The Athenians, having been reinforced with three and sisty sail, the battle was very obstinate and bloody, and the success pretty near equal on both sides, so that both parties seemed content to retire in good order.
All these actions which passed near Artemisa, though at that time indecisive, yet served not a little to animate and inspire the Athenians, who were now taught to think that there was nothing either formidable in the numbers, or useful in the size of the Persian ships. Thus strengthening themselves with the hopes of more splendid engagements, they sailed away from Artemisa and stopped at Salamis, where they might most conveniently assist the Athenians.
In the mean time Xerxes having entered with his numerous army into the country of Phocis, burning and plundering every town through which he passed. The inhabitants of Peloponnesus, who were naturally defended by their inaccessible situation, as their country was joined to the continent only by a neck of land, thought it the most prudent way to defend the isthmus by a wall, to take shelter behind that rampart, and to leave the rest of Greece to the mercy of the conqueror. The Athenians, however, whose country lay without the Isthmus, remonstrated loudly against this desertion, and endeavoured to persuade the Greeks to face the enemy in the plain. But prudence prevailed, and Themistocles gave them to understand that though their country should be for a while over-run by the barbarous invader, yet they had still their wooden walls to rely on, for their fleet was ready to transport them to such of their settlements as they thought proper. At first, however, this advice was the most hateful that could be imagined. The people thought themselves inevitably lost if they should once abandon the temples of their gods, and the tombs of their ancestors. But Themistocles using all his eloquence and address to work upon their passions, represented to them that Athens did not consist either of its walls or its houses but of its citizens, and that the saving of these was the true preservation of the state. A decree therefore was passed, by which it was ordained, that Athens for a while should be given up in trust to the gods, and that all the inhabitants, whether in freedom or slavery, should embark on board the fleet. In this calamitous desertion Cimon, though very young, was seen encouraging the citizens by his words and example. Bearing in his hands a part of his horse's furniture, he went to offer it as now useless in the temple of Minerva, and then going down to the water-side was the first that cheerfully went on board. When he was followed by the rest of the city, so moving and melancholy a sight drew tears even from the most obdurate. A brave, generous, polite, and ancient people, now forced from their native seats to undergo all the vicissitudes and dangers of the sea, to implore a retreat from foreign states, and give up their native lands to the spoiler was a most moving spectacle. Yet the steadiness and courage of some, and the pious resignation of all, demanded the utmost admiration. The young and adventurous embarked for Salamis, the old, the women, and children, took shelter at the city of Trezene, the inhabitants of which generously offered them an asylum. They even allowed them a maintenance at the expence of the public, permitted their children to gather fruit wherever they pleased, and appointed masters for their instruction. But in this general desertion, that which extremely raised the compassion of all, was the great number of old men they were obliged to leave in the city on account of their age and infirmities. Many also voluntarily remained behind, believing that the citadel which they had fortisied with wooden ramparts, was what the oracle pointed out for general security. To heighten this scene of general distress, the matrons were seen clinging with fond affection to the places in which they had so long resided, the wives filled the streets with loud lamentations, and even the poor domestic animals seemed to take a part in the general concern. It was impossible to see these poor creatures run howling and crying after their masters, who were going on shipboard, without being strongly asfected. Among these, the faithfulness of a particular dog is recorded, who jumped into the sea after his master, and continued swimming as near as he could to the vessel till he landed at Salamis, and died the moment after upon the shore. Those few inhabitants that remained behind retired into the citadel, where, literally interpreting the oracle, they fortified it as well as they could, and patiently awaited the invader's approach.
Whilst Xerxes was continuing his march, he was told that the Grecians were employed in seeing the games and combats then celebrating at Olympia. It was not without indignation that he found his power so little able to terrify his enemies, or interrupt their amusements. Having sent off a considerable detachment of his army to plunder the temple at Delphos, with the rest he marched down into Attica, where he found Athens deserted of all but a few in the citadel. These men despairing of succour, and unwilling to survive the loss of their country, would listen to no terms of accommodation; they boldly withstood the first assault, and, warmed by the enthusiasm of religion, began to hope for success. But a second assault carried their feeble out-works, they were all put to the sword, and the citadel reduced to ashes. Flushed with this success, Xerxes immediately dispatched a messenger to Susa with the news of his victories, and, at the same time, sent him a great number of pictures and statues, among which were those of Harmodius and Aristogiton.
In the mean time, the confederate Greeks summoned a council of war to consult upon the proper manner and place of opposing this barbarous inundation. With respect to the operations by land, it was universally determined to defend the isthmus by a wall, and Cleombrotus, the brother of Leonidas, was appointed to command that station; but as to the operations at sea, these were not so generally agreed on. Eurybiades the Spartan, who was appointed to the command of the fleet, was for having it advance near the isthmus, that it might co-operate with the army at land, but Themistocles was entirely of another opinion, and asserted, that it would be the most manifest error to abandon so advantageous a post as that of Salamis, where they were then stationed. They were now, he said, in possession of the narrow seas, where the number of the enemy could never avail them; that the only hope now left the Athenians was their fleet, and that this must not be capriciously given up by ignorance to the enemy. Eurybiades, who considered himself as glanced at, could not contain his resentment, but offered to strike Themistocles for his insolence.
Strike me,
cried the Athenian,
strike me, but hear me.
His moderation and his reasoning prevailed, the generals were reconciled to each other, and the result of the council was, that they should prepare to receive the Persians on the Isthmus by land, and in the streights of Salamis by sea.
Mean while Xerxes, after having demolished and burnt Athens, marched down toward the sea to act in conjunction with his fleet, which he had determined should once more come to an engagement with that of the enemy. This was what Themistocles most ardently desired in his present situation, but he was fearful his confederates would not have courage to abide the encounter. Their thoughts were still bent upon sailing towards the isthmus, and assisting their army in case of distress. Themistocles, therefore, in this exigence, was obliged to have recourse to one of those stratagems which mark superiority of genius; he contrived to let Xerxes privately understand, that the confederates were now assembled at Salamis preparing for flight, and that it would be an easy task to attack and destroy them. This information was attended with the desired success. Xerxes gave orders to his fleet to surround Salamis by night, in order to prevent an escape which he so much dreaded.
In this manner the Grecian fleet was blocked up, and no safety remained but in intrepidity and conquest. Even Themistocles himself was not apprized of the situation of his own forces and that of the enemy, all the narrow streights were blocked up, and the rest of the Persian fleet was sent for, to make every passage impracticable. In this exigence Aristides, in whose bosom the love of his country always prevailed over every private revenge, was resolved to venture all, in order to apprize Themistocles of his situation and danger. He was then at Egina, where he had some forces under his command, and with very great danger ventured in a small boat through all the fleet of the enemies by night. Upon landing he made up to the tent of Themistocles, and addressed him in the following manner:
"If we are wise, Themistocles, we shall hencesorth lay aside those vain and puerile dissensions which have thitherto separated us. One strife, and a noble emulation it is, now remains for us, which of us shall be most serviceable to our country. It is yours to command as a general, it is mine to obey as a subject, and happy shall I be, if my advice can any way contribute to your and my country's glory."
He then informed him of the fleet's real situation, and warmly exhorted him to give battle without delay. Themistocles felt all that generous gratitude which so disinterested a conduct demanded, and eager to shew a return of noble friendship, let him into all his projects and aims, particularly this last, of suffering himself to be surrounded. After this they used their joint authority with the other commanders to persuade them to engage, and accordingly both fleets prepared themselves for battle.
The Grecian fleet consisted of three hundred and eighty ships, the Persian fleet was much more numerous. But whatever advantage they had in numbers, and the size of their shipping, they fell infinitely short of the Greeks in their naval skill, and their acquainance with the seas where they fought; but it was particularly in their commander that the Greeks had the advantage. Eurybiades had nominally the conduct of the fleet, but Themistocles in reality conducted all their operations. Nothing escaped his vigilance, and he knew how to improve every incident to the greatest advantage. He, therefore, deferred the onset until a wind, which at that time of the year was periodical, and which he knew would be favourable, set in. As soon as this arose, the signal was given for battle, and the Grecian fleet sailed forward in exact order.
Xerxes imputing his former ill success at sea to his own absence, was resolved to be a witness of the present engagement from the top of a promontory, where he caused a throne to be erected for that purpose. This served in some measure to animate his forces, who, conscious of their king's observance, resolved to merit his applause. The Persians, therefore, advanced with such courage and impetuosity, as struck the enemy with terror, but their ardour abated when the engagement became closer. The numerous disadvantages of their circumstances and situation then began to appear. The wind blew directly in their faces; the height and heaviness of their vessels rendered them unwieldy and useless, even the number of their ships in the narrow sea where they fought, only served to embarrass and encrease their confusion. The Ionians, whom Themistocles had implored by characters engraven along the rocks of their coast, to remember from whence they derived their original, were the first who betook themselves to flight. In the other wing the contest was for some time doubtful, until the Phoenicians and Cyprians being driven on shore, the rest retired in great disorder, and fell foul of each other in their retreat. In this total defection, Artemisa alone seemed to stop the progress of victory; and, at the head of her five ships, performed incredible acts of valour. Xerxes, who was a spectator of her conduct, could not help crying out, that his soldiers behaved like women in the conslict, and the women like soldiers. As this queen, from her signal intrepidity, was become very obnoxious to the Athenians, a price had been set upon her head; sensible of which, as she was upon the point of falling into their hands, by a lucky turn of thought, she pretended to desert from her own party, and to fall foul of one of their ships; the Grecks thus concluding, that she either belonged to them, or was a deserter, permitted her to escape. In the mean time, the confederates pursued the Persian fleet on every side; some were intercepted at the streights of Attica, many were sunk, and more taken. Above two hundred were burnt, all the rest were dispersed; and the allies dreading the resentment of the Greeks, as well as of the Persian king, made the best of their way to their own country.
Such was the success of the battle of Salamis, in which the Persians had received a severer blow than they had ever hitherto experienced from Greece. Themistocles, in a secret conversation with Aristides, was, or pretended to be so elated, as to propose breaking down the bridge by which Xerxes had made his way into Europe. Whether Themistocles was really sincere in the proposal, remains a doubt, but Aristides used all his powers to persuade his coadjutor from such an undertaking. He represented to him the danger of reducing so powerful an enemy to desperation, and asserted, that it was his wish to be relieved from such an intruder with all possible dispatch. Themistocles at once acquiesced in his reasons; and, in order to hasten the king's departure, contrived to have him secretly informed that the Grecians designed to break down the bridge.
The situation of Xerxes was such, that the smallest repulse was now sufficient to wean him from his darling expedition. Astonished at the late overthrow, and alarmed at this new information, he only wanted a decent opportunity to retreat, when Mardonius came conveniently to extricate him from his embarrassments. He began by extenuating the late loss, and the many expedients that remained to relieve their situation, he laid all the blame of their defeat upon the cowardice of the auxiliaries, and their insincere attachment to his cause. He advised him to return speedily to his kingdom, lest the fame of his ill-success, which always represents things worse than they are, should occasion any commotions in his absence. He engaged, if he would leave him three hundred thousand of his choice troops, to subdue all Greece with glory. On the other hand, if the event proved otherwise, he would take all the blame of miscarriage, and suffer in person if it were to retrieve the honour of his master. This advice was very well received by Xerxes, who, thinking enough had been given to glory, when he had made himself master of Athens, prepared to return to Persia at the head of a part of his army, leaving the other part of it with Mardonius, not so much with the hope of reducing Greece, as through the fear of being pursued.
These resolutions were communicated in a council held soon after the fight, and the night following the fleet set sail in great confusion towards the Hellespont, and took up their winter quarters at Cuma. The king himself, leaving his generals to take care of the army, hastened with a small retinue to the sea-side, which he reached forty-five days after the battle of Salamis. When he arrived at the place, he found the bridge broken down by the violence of the waves in a tempest that had lately happened there. He was, therefore, obliged to pass the streight in a small boat, which manner of returning, being compared to the ostentatious method in which he had set out, rendered his disgrace still more poignant and afflicting. The army which he had ordered to follow him, having been unprovided with provisions, suffered great hardships by the way. After having consumed all the corn they could find, they were obliged to live upon herbs, and even upon the bark and leaves of trees. Thus harrassed and fatigued, a pestilence begun to complete their misery; and, after a fatiguing journey of forty-five days, in which they were pursued rather by vultures and beasts of prey, than by men, they came to the Hellespont, where they crossed over, and marched from thence to Sardis. Such was the end of Xerxes' expedition into Greece. A measure begun in pride, and terminating in infamy. It is to be observed, however, that we have all this account from the Greek writers only, who no doubt have been partial to their countrymen. I am told, that the Persian historians represent this expedition in a very different light, and say that the king was recalled in the midst of his successes to quell an insurrection at home. Be this as it will, the affairs of Persia seemed after that to go backward, until the time when Alexander led a conquering army of Greeks to invade them in turn.
CHAP. V. From the Retreat of XERXES to the Peace concluded between the GREEKS and PERSIANS.
A. M. 3524.
THE earliest object the Greeks took care of after the battle of Salamis, was to send the first fruits of the rich spoil they had taken from the Persians to Delphos. Considered in a confederated light, they were ever attentive to the duties of religion; and though their sects and opinions in philosophy, taught mankind to entertain but very mean ideas of the objects of public worship, yet it was religion that formed their bond of union, and for a while held them feebly together. When that bond came to be broken, and the council of the Amphyctions became rather a political than a religious assembly, the general union no longer prevailed, and the different states fell a sacrifice to their own contentions.
The joy of the Greeks upon this victory was general and loud; every commander had his share of honour, but the glory of Themistocles eclipsed that of all the rest. It was a custom in Greece, that after a battle the commanding officers should declare who had distinguished themselves most, by writing the names of such as merited the first and second rewards. On this occasion each officer concerned adjudged the first rank to himself, but all allowed the second to Themistocles, which was, in fact, a tacit superiority. This was farther confirmed by the Lacedaemonians, who carried him in triumph to Sparta; and having adjudged the rewards of valour to their own countryman, Eurybiades, adjudged that of wisdom to Themistocles. They crowned him with olive, presented him with a rich chariot, and conducted him with three hundred horse to the confines of their state. But still there was an homage paid him that flattered his pride yet more: when he appeared at the Olympic games, the spectators received him with uncommon acclamations. As soon as he appear- the whole assembly rose up to do him honour: nobody regarded either the games or the combatants, Themistocles was the only spectacle worth their attention. Struck with such flattering honours, he could not help observing, that he that day reaped the fruits of all his labours.
After the Grecians were returned from pursuing the Persian fleet, Themistocles sailed to all the islands that had espoused their interests, in order to levy contributions. The first he applied to was that of Andros, from whose inhabitants he required a considerable sum.
I come,
said he,
to you accompanied by two very powerful divinities, Persuasion and Necessity.
Alas!
replied they,
we also have divinities on our side, Poverty and Impossibility.
In consequence of this reply, he blocked them up for some time, but finding them too well fortified, he was obliged to retire. Some other islands, however, were neither furnished with so much reason or so much power. He exacted large sums from all such as were incapable of opposition; and these contributions he chiefly converted to his own private advantage, thus shewing in his own character two very oddly assorted qualities, avarice and ambition.
In the mean time, Mardonius, who remained in Greece with a body of three hundred thousand men, passed the winter in Thessaly; and, in the beginning of spring, led them down into the province of Boeotia. From thence he sent Alexander, king of Macedonia, with a splendid retinue to Athens, to make proposals for an accommodation, and to endeavour to make them separate their interests from the general cause of Greece. He offered to rebuild their city, to give them a considerable sum of money, to suffer them to enjoy their laws and constitution, and to give them the government of all Greece. Aristides was at that time in the highest office, being principal archon at Athens. It was in his presence that the king of Macedon made his proposals, and that the deputies from the other states of Greece endeavoured to avert the force of them. But Aristides wanted no prompter but the natural dictates of his own heart to give them an answer.
"To men, said he, bred up to pleasure and ignorance, it is natural to prosser great rewards, and to hope by bribes to buy off virtue. Barbarians who make silver and gold the chief objects of their esteem, may be excused for thinking to corrupt the fidelity of every people, but that the Lacedaemonians, who came to remonstrate against these offers, should suppose they could prevail was indeed surprising. The Athenians have the common liberty of Greece intrusted to their care, and mountains of gold are not able to shake its fidelity. No, so long as that sun which the Persians adore continues to shine with wonted splendor, so long shall the Athenians be mortal enemies to the Persians, so long shall they continue to pursue them for ravaging their lands, for burning their houses, and poluting their temples: such is the answer we return to the Persian proposal; and you," continued he, addressing himself to Alexander, "if you are truly their friend, refrain for the future from being the bearer of such proposals, your honour, and perhaps even your safety demands it."
All treaty being thus broke up, Mardonius prepared to act with vigour, and invaded Attica, which the Athenians were once more obliged to desert and leave to his fury. He entered Athens ten months after it had been taken by Xerxes, the inhabitants having again conveyed themselves to Salamis, and other neighbouring places. In that state of exile and want, they continued contented with all their sufferings, since repaid by freedom. Even Lycidas, a senator, who attempted to propose a submission, was stoned to death, while his wife and children met with the same fate from the women, so strong was the aversion which the Athenians had conceived against all communications with Persia.
In the mean time, the Spartans, whose duty it was to co-operate with the Athenians with equal ardour, unmindful of the general cause, only thought of making preparations for their own security, and resolved to fortify the isthmus, in order to hinder the enemy from entering into Peloponnesus. This the Athenians considered as a base and ungrateful defection, and sent deputies to remonstrate against the Spartan conduct. These had orders to say, that if Sparta would persist in its partial method of seeking security, the Athenians would follow their example; and, instead of suffering all for Greece, would turn with their sleet to the Persians, who being thus masters of the sea, could invade the territory of Sparta whenever they should think proper. These menaces had so good an effect, that five thousand men were privately dispatched, each attended with seven Helotes, and were actually upon their march before the Spartans gave the Athenian deputies any answer.
Mardonius had left Attica at this time, and was on his return to the country of Boeotia, where he resolved to await the approach of the enemy, as he could there draw up his forces with greater ease than in the hilly parts of Attica, where a few might be opposed to numbers with greater success. He encamped by the river Asopus, along the banks of which his army extended, consisting of three hundred thousand fighting men.
Great as this army was, the Greeks, with much inferior forces, resolved to meet it in the field. Their forces were by this time assembled, and amounted to seventy thousand men. Of these, five thousand were Spartans, attended by thirty-five thousand Helotes. The Athenians amounted to eight thousand, and the troops of the allies made up the remainder. In the right wing of this army the Spartans were placed, commanded by Cleombrotus, in the left wing the Athenians, with Aristides at their head. In this order they followed Mardonius into Boeotia, determined on trying the fate of a battle, and encamped at no great distance from them, at the foot of Mount Cythaeron. Here they continued for some time, awaiting in dreadful suspense a battle that was to determine the fate of Greece. Some skirmishing between the Persian cavalry and the wing of the Grecian army, in which the latter were successful, seemed to give a presage of future victory, which, however, for ten days neither side seemed willing to strike for.
While the two armies were thus opposed, waiting the most favourable opportunity of engaging, the Greeks, by their mutual dissensions, were upon the point of losing their freedom in satisfying their mutual jealousy. The first dispute that arose in the army, was begun by the Tegeans, who contended with the Athenians upon the point of precedence. They willingly allowed the Spartans the command of the right wing, as they constantly had it, but they insisted on having the left, alledging, that they had earned it by former acts of valour and well known success. The dispute ran high, a mutinous disposition began to prevail in all parts of the army, and the enemy were likely to become victorious without a blow. In this general spirit of dissension, Aristides alone appeared unmoved. Long noted for his impartiality and justice, all parties fixed their eyes upon him as the only moderator from whom they could expect satisfaction. Wherefore, turning himself to the Spartans, and some of the rest of the confederates, he addressed them in the following manner.
"It is not now a time, my friends, to dispute of the merit of past services, for all boasting is vain in the day of danger. Let it be the brave man's pride to rest assured, that it is not the post or station which gives courage, or which can take it away. I head the Athenians, whatever post you shall assign us we will maintain it, and make our station, wherever we are placed, the post of true honour and military glory. We are come hither not to contend with our friends, but to fight with our enemies; not to boast of our ancestors, but to imitate them. This battle will distinguish the particular merit of each city, each commander, and even the lowest centinel will share the honour of the day."
This speech determined the council of war in favour of the Athenians, who, thereupon, were allowed to maintain their former station.
A fatal conspiracy in the midst of the Athenians threatened consequences still more dangerous, as they were unseen. Some of the best and richest families, who had wasted their fortunes in the war, and lost their credit in the city, entered into a confederacy to deliver up Greece into the hands of the Persians Aristides, however, still watchful in the service of the state, was early informed of their machinations, and instantly laid their schemes before the general council. Notwithstanding he was contented with having eight of the conspirators arrested; and, of these, two only were reserved for trial. Yet his lenity, or, to call it by a truer name, his prudence, would not permit him to act rigorously even against these; as he knew that severity in times of general danger would but depress the ardour of the army, he permitted them to escape, and thus sacrificed public justice to public security.
Both armies had now continued for ten days in sight of each other, in anxious expectation of an engagement, both willing to begin, yet afraid to strike, as the aggressor was to engage at a disadvantage. But Mardonius being naturally of an impatient, fiery disposition, grew very uneasy at so long a delay. Besides, he had only few provisions left for his army, and the Grecians grew every day stronger by the addition of fresh supplies. He, therefore, called a council of war to deliberate whether he should give battle. Artabazus, a person of singular merit and great experience, was of opinion that they should not hazard a battle, but that they should retire under the walls of Thebes, while the enemy, formed of various troops, and subject to different leaders, would destroy each other by their own dissensions, or might be partly corrupted to give up the common cause. This opinion was the most reasonable, but Mardonius, spurred on by his natural impetuosity, and wearied with a protracted war, resolved to engage, nor had the rest courage to contradict his resolution. The result, therefore, was that they should give battle the next day.
This being resolved on the side of Persia, the Greeks were not less prepared for the engagement, for they had been secretly apprized the night before by Alexander king of Macedon of the result of the Persian councils. Pausanias, therefore, gave orders to his army to prepare themselves for battle, and drawing up his forces, placed the Athenians on the right, as being better acquainted with the Persian manner of fighting, and flushed with former success. Whether it was fear or prudence that suggested this change to the general, the Athenians took the post of honour with exultation; nothing was heard among them but mutual exhortations to bravery, and a steady resolution to conquer or fall. But Mardonius hearing of this alteration in the disposition of the Grecian army, made an alteration also in his own. This also once more produced a change in the disposition of the Greeks; by this changing and rechanging the order of battle, nothing farther was done for that day.
At night the Greeks held a council of war, in which it was resolved, that they should decamp from their present situation, and march to another, more conveniently situated for water. As their removal was performed in the night, much disorder ensued; and in the morning, Mardonius perceiving them scattered over the plain, he supposed that they were flying, rather than retreating; he, therefore, resolved to pursue with his whole army. The Greeks perceiving his design, soon collected their scattered forces, which the darkness had dispersed, but not intimidated, and halting near the little city of Platea, there determined to await the shock of their pursuers. The barbarian forces soon came up to the engagement with their accustomed howling, expecting rather to plunder than to fight. The Lacedaemonians, who closed up the rear of the Grecian army, were the first who supported the shock of the assailants. They were in some measure separated from the rest of the army by the obstinacy of one of their own regiments, who considered their retreat as contrary to the idea of Spartan discipline, but still consisting of a formidable body of men, they were in a capacity of making head against the invaders. Collecting themselves into a phalanx, they stood impenetrable and immovable to all the assaults of the enemy.
In the mean time, the Athenian troops who were apprized of the attack, quickly turned back, in order to assist their allies; but the Greeks, who were in Persian pay, to the number of five thousand intercepted their return. Thus, the battle was divided into two, and fought with great ardour in various parts of the field. But nothing could resist the weight of the Spartan phalanx, who, after some time, broke in upon the Persian forces, and put them into disorder. In this tumult, Mardonius attempting to restore the order of battle, and rushing into the midst of the carnage, was killed by Aimnestus, a Spartan; and soon after all his army betook themselves to flight. The other Greek troops soon followed the brave example set them by Sparta, and the rout became general. Artabazus, who commanded a body of forty thousand Persians, fled with them towards the Hellespont, while the rest fortified themselves in their camp with wooden ramparts. There they were attacked by the Spartans, but being not well-skilled in that part of war, the Athenians soon came up to their assistance, and soon effected a breach in this hasty rampart. It was then that the slaughter of the enemy was indiscriminate and terrible. Of all the Persian army that had taken refuge there, not four thousand men escaped. Above an hundred thousand men were put to the sword; and the conquerors, willing to rid their country at once of their terrible invaders, refused to give quarter. Thus ended the Persian invasions of Greece, nor ever after was the Persian army seen to cross the Hellespont.
The carnage being at last over, the Greeks buried their dead, which at most did not amount to ten thousand men; and soon after, as a testimony of their gratitude to Heaven, they caused a statue of Jupiter to made at the general expence, which they placed in his temple at Olympia. The names of the several nations of Greece that were present in the engagement, were engraven on the right side of the pedestal of the statue, the Spartans first, the Athenians next, and all the rest in order.
In the mean time, while success attended the Grecian arms upon land, they were not less fortunate at sea. The greatest part of the Persian fleet, after the defeat at Salamis, wintered at Cumae, and in the spring moved to Samos, both to guard and awe the coasts of Asia. The Grecians, in the mean while, were refitting their ships at Aegina, and being importuned by the Samians, they put to sea under the conduct of Leotichydes, the Spartan, and Xanthippus, the Athenian. The Persians apprised of their approaching, and having long experienced their own inferiority, would not venture to oppose them at sea, but drew up their ships upon land at Mycale, a promontory of lonia, where they fortified them with a wall and a deep trench, while they were also protected by an army of sixty thousand foot, under the command of Tigranes. This, however, did not deter the Greeks from venturing to attack them. Leotichydes having endeavoured to make the Ionians revolt, landed his forces, and the next day prepared for the assault. He drew up his army in two bodies; the one consisting chiefly of Athenians and Corinthians, kept the plain, whilst the other of Lacedaemonians, marched over the hills and precipices, to gain the highest ground. The battle being joined, great courage and resolution was shewn on both sides, and the fortune of the day continued for a long time in suspense. The defection of the Greek auxiliaries in the Persian army, turned the fate of the battle; the Persians were soon routed, and pursued with great slaughter to their very tents. The Athenians had made themselves masters of the field before the Lacedaemonians could come up to their assistance, so that all the share these had in the action, was to disperse some Persian troops which were attempting to make a regular retreat, soon after their ramparts were forced, and all their vessels burnt, so that nothing could be more complete than the victory at Mycale. Tigranes, the Persian general, and forty thousand men of his army, lay dead on the field of battle; the fleet was destroyed, and of the great army brought into Europe by Xerxes, scarce one remained to bring back the tidings.
The battle of Platea was fought in the morning, and that of Mycale in the evening of the same day. But what is very extraordinary, it is universally assirmed, that the victory at Plataea was known at Mycale before the battle begun, though it is a passage of several days from one place to the other. It is most probable, that Leotychides made use of the report to encourage his army, and incite them to emulate their associates in the cause of freedom.
During these misfortunes, Xerxes, who had been the cause of all, lay at Sardis expecting the event of his expedition, but every hour coming loaded with the news of some fatal disaster, finding himself unable to retrieve his affairs, he retired farther into the country, and endeavoured to drown in luxury and riot the uneasy reflections of his successless ambition. To the want of success abroad, was added the contempt of his subjects at home; and this brought on a train of treasons, insurrections, sacrilege, murder, incest, and cruelty; so that the latter part of his reign was as scandalous as the first part of it had been unfortunate.
The Grecian fleet after the battle of Mycale set sail towards the Hellespont, in order to possess themselves of the bridges which Xerxes had built over that streight, but finding them already destroyed by the tempestuous weather, they returned home. From this time, all the cities of Ionia revolted from the Persians, and having entered into the general consederacy, most of them preserved their liberty during the time that empire subsisted.
The treasures which the Persians had brought into Greece were very great, and these of consequence, became a prey to the conquerors. From this period, the Greeks began to lose their spirit of hardy and laborious virtue, and to adopt the refined indolence, the captious petulance, and the boundless love of pleasure, which extreme wealth is ever known to produce. The former equality of the people now began to be broken, and while one part of the inhabitants rioted in opulence and luxury, another was seen pining in want and despair. It was in vain that philosophy reared its head to stop these calamities; its voice reaches to but a few; the great and the little vulgar are equally deaf to its dictates. From this time we are to view a different picture; and, instead of a brave and refined people confederating against tyranny, we are to behold an ennervate and factious populace, a corrupt administration among those in power, and wealth alone making distinction.
CHAP. VI. From the Victory at MYCALE to the Beginning of the PELOPONNESSIAN War.
A. M. 3526.
NO sooner were the Greeks freed from the apprehensions of a foreign invasion, than they began to entertain jealousies of each other. Indeed these petty animosities had all along subsisted among them, but they were kept under by the sense of general danger. As this collection of republics was composed of states entirely dissimilar in manners, interests and inclinations, it was no way surprising to find its parts ever at variance with each other. The first marks of jealousy upon the destruction of the Persian army, exhibited themselves between the Athenians and Spartans. The one a refined ambitious state, unwilling to admit a superior in the general confederacy, the other an hardy unpolished race, which could never think of admitting a feebler state as an equal. The Athenians, with their families, being returned to their own country, began to think of rebuilding their city, which had been almost destroyed during the Persian war. As every new foundation aims at improving the old, they laid a plan of strengthening and extending their walls, and giving their city at once more magnificence and security. This was but natural, however the Lacedaemonians conceived a jealousy at this undertaking, and began to think that Athens, from being mistress of the seas, would soon attempt usurping all authority upon land. They, therefore, sent an embassy to the Athenians to dissuade them from this undertaking, giving as an ostensible reason, the danger such fortifications would be of to the general confederacy if they should ever fall into the hands of the Persians. This message at first appeared reasonable, and the Athenians put an immediate stop to their undertaking; but Themistocles, who since the battle of Salamis continued to guide in the assemblies of Athens, easily saw through the pretext, and advised the council to meet their dissimulation with similar address. He, therefore, answered the Spartan ambassadors, that the Athenians would soon send an embassy to Lacedaemon, in which they would fully satisfy all their scruples. Having thus gained time, he procured himself to be elected for that important negociation, and took care to draw out the treaty by studied delays. He had previously desired that his colleagues should follow one after another, and still he alledged at Lacedaemon that he only waited for their arrival to determine the affair at a single audience. During all this time the work was carried on at Athens with the utmost vigour and industry, the women and children, strangers and slaves, were all employed in it, nor was it interrupted for a single day. It was in vain that the Spartans complained of this procedure; it was in vain that they urged Themistocles to hasten his business, he stedfastly denied the fact, and entreated them not to give any credit to loose and idle reports. He desired they would send again and enquire into the truth of the matter; and, at the same time, advised the Athenians to detain the Spartan envoys until he and his collegues should return. At last, finding all his pretences for delay exhausted, he boldly demanded an audience, and knowing that the work was finished, he no longer kept on the mask. He then informed the Spartans in full council, that Athens was now in a condition to keep out any enemy, whether foreign or domestic: that what his countrymen had done was conformable both to the law of nations, and the common interests of Greece. Every city had a right to consult for its own safety, without submitting to the advice or controul of its neighbours; that what had been done was entirely in consequence of his advice; and, in short, that whatever injury they offered him, they must expect it would be returned upon their own ambassadors, who were still detained at Athens. These declarations extremely displeased the Lacedaemonians, but, either sensible of their truth, or unwilling to come to an open rupture, they dissembled their resentment, and the ambassadors on both sides having all suitable honours paid them, returned to their respective cities. Themistocles was received with as much joy by his fellow citizens as if he had returned from triumph, and he was of a disposition to feel those honours with the highest delight.
Having thus taken proper precautions for securing the city, his next care was to strengthen the port, and form an harbour at once spacious and secure. He likewise obtained a decree, that every year they should build twenty vessels to continue and augment their force by sea; and, in order to engage the greater number of workmen and sailors to resort to Athens, he caused particular privileges and immunities to be granted in their favour. His design was to render Athens entirely a maritime city, in which he followed a very different system of politics from their former governors, who bent all their efforts to alienate the minds of the people from commerce and naval affairs.
But as success in one part is apt to lead on to designs still more extensive, Themistocles was willing to outstep the bounds of justice in the prosecution of his darling projects. He even formed a plan of supplanting Sparta, and making Athens the unrivalled mistress of Greece. On a certain day, therefore, he declared in a full assembly of the people, that he had a very important design to propose, but which could not be communicated to the public, as the execution required secrecy and dispatch. He, therefore, desired they would appoint a person to whom he might explain himself, one whose judgment might direct, and whose authority might confirm him in his design. To direct in a matter of this importance, it was not easy to miss the wisest and the best man of the state, and Aristides was unanimously chosen by the whole assembly, as the properest person to weigh the justice as well as the utility of the proposal. Themistocles, therefore, taking him aside, told him, that the design he had conceived was to burn the fleet belonging to the rest of the Grecian states, which then lay in a neighbouring port, and thus procure Athens an undisputed sovereignty of the sea. Aristides, inwardly displeased at the proposal, made no answer, but returning to the assembly, informed them, that nothing could be more advantageous to Athens than what Themistocles proposed, but that nothing could be more unjust. The people, still possessed of a share of remaining virtue, unanimously declined the proposal without knowing its contents, and conferred the surname of
Just
upon Aristides, a title still the more flattering, as he had so well deserved it.
Thus, Athens being restored to peace and security, once more began to apply to those arts that adorn life and secure freedom. The people began to assume a greater share in the government of the state than they had hitherto aspired at, and steps were every day taken to render the constitution entirely popular. Aristides perceived this, and justly dreaded the consequences of a democratic government; he, therefore, procured a decree, that the archons who were the chief magistrates of the state, should be chosen indiscriminately from all ranks of Athenians without distinction. Thus, by indulging the citizens in a part of their wishes, he secured a legal subordination among the whole.
In the mean time, the Grecians, encouraged by their former victories, resolved to send a fleet to deliver their confederates, who still groaned beneath the Persian yoke. Pausanias commanded the Spartan fleet, while Aristides, and Cimon, the son of Miltiades, were appointed to conduct the fleets of Athens. This was the first time the latter, who was yet very young, was placed in a sphere for the exhibition of his virtues. He had formerly suffered himself to be imprisoned towards the satisfying his father's fine, and his piety upon that occasion gave the most favourable presage of his future greatness. When set at liberty, his services in war soon became conspicuous, and it was seen that he acted with the courage of his father, the judgment of Themistocles, and with more sincerity than either. The ingenuous openness of his temper being easily seen, he was opposed in the state as a counterpoise to the craft and subtlety of Themistocles, and thus advanced to the highest employments both at home and abroad. Under these commanders, the allied fleet first directed their course to the isle of Cyprus, where they restored all the cities to their liberty; then steering towards the Hellespont, attacked the city Byzantium, of which they made themselves masters, and took a vast number of prisoners, many of whom were the richest and most considerable families of Persia.
The success of this expedition was not more flattering to the Greeks than in the end prejudicial to them. A deluge of wealth pouring in, corrupted the simplicity, and tainted the manners of every rank of people. The Athenians already skilled in the arts of politeness and effeminacy, concealed their change for a time, but it soon broke out among the Spartans, and Pausanias himself, their commander, was the first infected with the contagion. Being naturally of an haughty and imperious temper, and still more impressed with the gloomy austerity of Sparta, he set no bounds to his ambition; he treated his officers, and even the confederate generals, with severity, arrogance, and disdain, and so much alienated the minds of the soldiers, that he was forsaken by all the confederates, who put themselves under the command and protection of Aristides and Cimon. These generals had ever preserved a contrary conduct; assable, courteous, and obliging, they tempered their authority with mildness, and won by their manners such as they could not engage by their benefits. An opposition so mortifying could not but be displeasing to Pausanias; it was in vain that he attempted to keep up his authority by pride and ostentation, his importance sunk with his unpopularity, and he became contemptible even to those that still acknowledged his command.
Perhaps it was from these motives that he resolved to sacrifice his country to his ambition, and give up to the Persians a state where he could no longer expect to dictate. Be this as it will, he made overtures for gaining the favour of Xerxes; and, in order to ingratiate himself at the court of that monarch, he suffered some of his more exalted prisoners to make their escape by night, commissioned with letters to Xerxes, wherein he offered to deliver up Sparta and all Greece, on condition that he would give him his daughter in marriage. Xerxes readily harkened to the proposal, and referred him to Artabazus, his governor, to concert measures with him for putting it in execution. He also furnished him with a large sum of money to be distributed among such of the Grecian states as would join in the conspiracy.
How long this treaty continued secret we are not told, but it was discovered at Sparta before it could be put into execution, and Pausanias was ordered home to take his trial for the offence. The proofs, however, against him were not sufficient for conviction, as the Ephori had made it a rule never to convict a man but upon the plainest evidence. But his command was taken from him, and he retired, still meditating revenge and the destruction of his country. It was not long, however, before he received a second summons to appear before the Ephori for fresh crimes, and a number of his own slaves were found to depose against him. Still, however, he had the fortune to come off, the mildness of the Spartan laws, and the authority of his regal office, which he still possessed, conspiring to protect him.
Pausanias having in this manner twice escaped the justice of his country, would not, however, abandon his base projects, or sacrifice his resentment to his safety. Immediately upon his being acquitted, he returned to the seacoasts, without any authority from the state, and still continued to carry on his correspondence with Artabazus. He now acted with such little reserve, that his conduct was known to the Ephori, and they only wanted information to convict him. While they were thus perplexed for want of evidence, a certain slave, who was called the Argilian, cleared their doubts, and came with proofs which could not be resisted. This man had been employed by Pausanias to carry a letter to Artabazus, and he accordingly prepared himself for the expedition, but reflecting, that many of his fellow-slaves had been sent on similar messages, and seeing none of them return, he was induced to open the pacquet of which he was the bearer, and there he discovered the mystery and his own danger. It seems, that Pausanias and the Persian governor had agreed to put to death all the messengers they mutually sent to each other as soon as their letters were delivered, that there might be no possibility left of tracing out, or discovering the correspondence. This letter he delivered to the Ephori, who were now convinced that Pausanias was guilty, but for a more thorough confirmation, they were willing to have it from himself. For this purpose, they contrived that the slave should take sanctuary in the temple of Neptune as for safety and protection, and under a pretence of supplicating the deity for the infidelity he had committed. The instant Pausanias was informed of his slave's behaviour, he hastened to the temple to enquire the reason, where the slave informed him, that having opened his letter, he found the contents fatal to himself, and therefore took this method of averting the danger. Pausanias instead of denying the fact, endeavoured rather to pacify the slave, and promised him a large reward to bribe his future secrecy. But during this interview, the Ephori had privately posted persons to overhear the conversation, and they soon divulged his guilt. The moment, therefore, he was returned to the city, the Ephori resolved to seize him, and from the aspect of one of these magistrates he plainly perceived his danger: he, therefore, flew to take sanctuary in the temple of Minerva, and got thither before his pursuers could overtake him. As the religion of the state would not permit his being taken forcibly from thence, the people stopped up the entrance with great stones, and tearing off the roof, left him exposed to the inclemency of the weather. After a short stay he was starved to death; and in this miserable manner died the general who had led on the victorious troops to the field of Plataea.
The fate of Pausanias soon after involved that of Themistocles, who had some time before been banished, and lived in great esteem at Argos. A passionate thirst of glory, and a strong desire to command arbitrarily over the citizens, had made him very odious at Athens. He had built near his house a temple in honour of Diana, under this title, To Diana, the Goddess of Good Counsel, as hinting his own counsels upon several important occasions, and thus tacitly reproaching his fellow-citizens of having forgot them. This, though a small offence, was sufficient to expel him from so sluctuating and jealous a state as that of Athens; but he was now accused of having participated in, and having been privy to the designs of Pausanias. In fact, Pausanias had communicated to him all his designs, but Themistocles had rejected his proposals with the utmost indignation. But then he concealed his enterprizes, either thinking it base to betray the secrets trusted to his confidence, or imagining it impossible for such dangerous and ill-concerted schemes to take effect. Be this as it will, upon the downfall of Pausanias, it appeared that a correspondence had been carried on between them, and the Lacedaemonians declared themselves his accusers before the assembly of the people of Athens. Such of the citizens as had long either envied, or feared Themistocles, now joined in the general accusation, and urged his death with great acrimony. Aristides alone, who had long been his open opposer, refused to join in this base confederacy against him, and rejected so mean an opportunity of revenge, being as little inclined to delight in the misfortunes of his adversary, as he had before been to envy his successes. It was in vain that Themistocles answered by letters to the calumnies laid against him; it was in vain that he alledged, that a mind like his disdaining slavery at home, could think of wishing for it in exile; the people too strongly wrought upon by his accusers, sent persons to seize and bring him before the council of Greece. Fortunately, however, he had timely notice of their design, and went to take refuge in the island of Corcyra, to the inhabitants of which he had formerly done signal services. From thence he fled to Epirus, and finding himself still pursued by the Athenians, grown at length desperate, he fled to Admetus king of the Molossians for refuge. There he first practised all the abject arts of a man obliged to sue to a tyrant for succour. He had upon a former occasion been instrumental in preventing the Athenians from granting aid to this monarch, and this was now severely remembered against him. Admetus was from home at the time Themistocles came to implore protection; and, upon his return, he was surprised to find his old adversary who had come to put himself under his protection. As soon as the king appeared, Themistocles took that monarch's young son in his arms, and seating himself amidst the houshold gods, informed him of the cause of his arrival, and implored his clemency and protection. Admetus surprised, and moved with compassion at seeing the greatest man of Greece an humble suppliant at his feet, raised him immediately from the ground, and promised him protection. Accordingly, when the Athenians and Lacedaemonians came to demand him, he refused absolutely to deliver up a person who had made his palace an asylum, in the firm persuasion that it would afford him safety and protection. Thus, continuing to spend the close of life in indolence and retirement, having learned to pardon and despise the ingratitude his country, he expected at least their forgiveness. But the Athenians and Lacedaemonians would not suffer him to live in peace, and still insisted on having him delivered up. In this exigence, as the king found himself unable to protect his illustrious guest, he resolved to promote his escape. He was, therefore, put on board a merchant ship, which was sailing to Ionia, and his quality concealed with the utmost precaution. A storm having carried the ship near the island of Naxos, then besieged by the Athenians, the imminent danger he was in of falling into their hands, compelled him to discover himself to the pilot, and prevailed upon him to steer for Asia; where, arriving at Cumae, a city of Aeolia, in Asia Minor, he was from thence sent under a strong guard, and in one of those covered chariots in which the Persians were accustomed to convey their wives to the court at Sardis.
When the unfortunate exile was arrived at the palace of the voluptuous monarch of the country, he waited on the captain of the guard, requesting, as a Grecian stranger to have permission to speak with the king. The officer informed him of a ceremony, which he knew was insupportable to some Greeks, but without which none were allowed that honour. This was to fall prostrate before the Persian monarch, and to worship him as the living image of the gods on earth. Themistocles, who was never scrupulous of the means of obtaining what he sought, promised to comply, and falling on his face before the king in the Persian manner, declared his name, his country, and misfortunes.
"I have done, cried he, my ungrateful country services more than once, and I am now come to offer these services to you. My life is in your hands: you may now exert your clemency, or display your vengeance. By the former you will preserve a faithful suppliant, by the latter you will destroy the greatest enemy to Greece."
The king made him no answer at this audience, though he was struck with admiration at his eloquence and intrepidity, but he soon gave a loose to his joy for the event. He told his courtiers, that he considered the arrival of Themistocles as a very happy accident, and wished that his enemies would for ever pursue the same destructive methods of banishing from among them all the good and wise. Even his satisfactions were continued in a dream. At night he was seen to start from his sleep, and three times to cry out,
"I have got Themistocles the Athenian."
He even gave him three cities for his support, and had him maintained in the utmost affluence and splendor. It is said that such was his favour at the Persian court, and so great was the consideration in which he was held by all ranks of mankind, that one day at table he was heard to cry out to his w
fe and children that were placed there,
"Children, we should have been certainly ruined, if we had not been formerly undone."
In this manner he lived in affluence and contented slavery, until the king began to think of employing his talents in sending him at the head of an army against Athens. Athough Themistocles professed himself an open enemy to that state, yet he still harboured a latent affection for it, which no resentment could remove. The consciousness that he should be instrumental in overturning a city which had been made to flourish by his counsels, gave him inexpressible pain. He found himself at last unable to sustain the conflict between his gratitude to the king and his love to his country; and, therefore, resolved upon dying as the only means of escaping from his perplexity. He, therefore, prepared a solemn sacrifice, to which he invited all his friends, when, after embracing them all, and taking a last farewell, he swallowed poison, which soon put an end to his life. He died at Magnesia, aged threescore and five years, the greatest part of which he had spent in the intrigues and bustles of active employment. Themistocles seemed to unite in himself all the prominent features of the Greek character; sagacious, eloquent, and brave, yet unprincipled, artful, and mercenary, with too many virtues ever to be mentioned as a despicable character, and too many defects ever to be considered as a great one.
In the mean time, while Themistocles was thus become the sport of fortune, the just Aristides attempted a nobler path to glory. It has already been observed, that the command of Greece had passed from Sparta to the Athenians; and it was agreed among the body of the states, that their common treasure for carrying on the expences of the war, should be lodged in the island of Delos, under the custody of a man of a clear head and an uncorrupt heart. The great question, therefore, was where to find a man to be trusted with so important a charge, and steadfastly known to prefer the public interest to his own. In this general disquisition all parties at last cast their eyes on Aristides, of whom Themistocles used jestingly to say, that he had no other merit than that of a strong box, in keeping safely what was committed to his charge.
The conduct of Aristides in his discharge of this duty, only served to confirm the great opinion mankind had formed of his integrity. He presided over the treasury with the care of a father over his family, and the caution of a miser over what he holds dearer than himself. No man complained of his administration, and no part of the public money was exhausted in vain. He who thus contributed to make government rich, was himself very poor; and so far was he from being ashamed of poverty, that he considered it as glorious to him as all the trophies and victories he had won. It happened upon a certain occasion, that Callias, an intimate friend and relation of Aristides, was summoned before the judges for some offence, and one of the chief objections alledged against him, was that while he rolled in affluence and luxury, he suffered his friend and relation Aristides to remain in poverty and want. Upon this occasion, Aristides was called upon, when it appeared that Callias had often offered to share his fortune with him, but that he declined the benefit; asserting, that he only might be said to want who permitted his appetites to transgress the bounds of his income, and that he who could dispense with a few things, thus rendered himself more like the gods, that want for nothing.
In this manner he lived, just in his public, and independent in his private capacity. His house was a public school for virtue, and was open to all young Athenians who sought wisdom, or were ambitious of power. He gave them the kindest reception, heard them with patience, instructed them with familiarity, and endeavoured above all things to give them a just value for themselves. Among the rest of his disciples Cimon, who afterwards made such a distinguished figure in the state, was one of the foremost.
History does not mention the exact time or place of his death, but it pays the most glorious testimony to his disinterested character, in telling us, that he who had the absolute disposal of all the public treasures died poor. It is even asserted, that he did not leave money enough behind him to pay the expences of his funeral, but that the government was obliged to bear the charge of it, and to maintain his family. His daughters were married, and his son subsisted at the expence of the public, and some of his grandchildren were subsisted by a pension equal to that which such received as had been victorious at the Olympic games. But the greatest honour which his countrymen paid to his memory, was in giving him the title of Just, a character far superior to all the empty titles of wisdom or conquest, since fortune or accident may confer wisdom or valour, but all the virtues of morality are solely of our own making.
Athens being in this manner deprived of the counsels and integrity of her two greatest magistrates, room was now made for younger ambition to step forward, and Cimon, the son of Miltiades, promised to fill the scene with dignity and honour Cimon had spent his youth in excesses, from whence it was thought no effort could extricate him. When he first offered to gain public favour, he was so ill received by the people, prejudiced against him by his former follies, that he suffered the most cruel neglect. But, though he was possessed of courage and abilities, he began to lay aside all thoughts of the public, contented with only humbler satisfactions. But Aristides perceiving that his dissolute turn of mind was united with many great qualifications, he inspired him with fresh hopes, and persuaded him once more to renew the onset He now, therefore, entirely changed his conduct, and laying aside his juvenile follies, aimed at nothing but what was great and noble. Thus, he became not inferior to Miltiades in courage, to Themistocles in prudence, and was not far surpassed by Aristides in integrity.
The first expedition of any note to the command of which Cimon was appointed, was of the fleet destined to scour the Asiatic seas. When he was arrived at Caria, all the Grecian cities upon the sea-coast immediately came in, and the rest, which were garrisoned by the Persians, were taken by storm. Thus, by his conduct as well as by his intelligence, the whole country from Ionia to Pamphylia declared against the power of Persia, and joined in the association with Greece.
The capture of the city Eion is too remarkable to be past over in silence. Boges was governor, who held it for his master, the king of Persia, with a firm resolution to save it, or perish in its fall. It was in his power to have capitulated with the besiegers, and Cimon had often offered him very advantageous terms, but preferring his honour to his safety, he declined all treaty, and defended his station with incredible fury, till he found it no longer possible to continue his defence. Being at last in the utmost want of provisions, he threw all his treasures from the walls into the river Strymon, after which, killing his wife and children, he laid them upon a pile which he had erected for that purpose, and then setting fire to the whole, rushed and expired in the midst of the flames.
Cimon thus proceeding from one conquest to another, was at last informed that the whole Persian fleet was anchored at the mouth of the river Eurymedon, where they expected a reinforcement of ships from Phoenicia, and, therefore, deferred an engagement till then. The Athenian general, however, resolved, if possible, to prevent this junction, and ranged his gallies in such a posture as to prevent, it and yet compel the enemy to an engagement. It was in vain that the Persian fleet retired farther up the mouth of the river, the Athenians still pursued them up the stream, until they were obliged to prepare for battle. The Persians having the superiority of an hundred sail, maintained the conflict for some time with great intrepidity, but being at last forced on shore, they who came first threw themselves upon land, leaving their empty vessels to the enemy. Thus, besides what were sunk, the Athenians took above two hundred ships, and following their blow upon land, the Greek soldiers jumping from their ships, and setting up a shout, ran furiously upon the enemy, who sustained the first shock with great resolution. But, at length, the Grecian valour surmounted the enemy's desperation; a total rout of the Persians ensued, numbers were made prisoners, and a great quantity of plunder seized, which was found in their tents. Thus, the Greeks, obtained a double victory by sea and land upon the same occasion.
Cimon having returned successful from this expedition, resolved to expend those treasures which he had taken in war, in beautifying and adorning his native city. A taste for architecture had for some time been entering into Greece, and the Athenians gave the world examples in this art, that surpass all others to this very day. Victories so very humiliating to the pride of Persia, induced that empire at last to think of peace, and after some time a treaty was concluded, in which the terms were very honourable on the side of Greece. It was stipulated, that the Grecian cities in Asia should be left in quiet enjoyment of their liberty, and that both the land and sea forces of the Persians should be kept at such a distance from the Grecian seas, as not to create the smallest suspicion. Thus entirely ended the Persian war, which had kept the Grecian states united, and called all their abilities into exertion; from that time forward those enmities which were dissipated upon the common foe, began to be turned upon each other; they lost all warlike spirit in petty jealousies, and entirely softening by the refinements and luxuries of peace, prepared themselves for submission to the first invader of their freedom.
About this time the study of philosophy was carried from Ionia to Athens by Athenagoras the Clazomenian. Poetry was, at the same time, cultivated by Simonides of the island of Ceos, who sung the exploits of his country in a style becoming their valour. His writings however have not had merit enough to preserve them from oblivion; and, it may be asserted, that mankind never suffer any work to be lost which tends to make them more wise or happy.
CHAP. VII. From the Peace with PERSIA to the Peace of NICIAS.
THE state of Athens being thus in a great measure freed from its fears of a foreign enemy, began to cherish intestine animosities, and its citizens laboured with every art to supplant each other in aiming at places of trust and authority. Besides Cimon, who, by general consent, had been appointed to conduct the fleet and army, others endeavoured to take the lead at home, and to govern with less hazard the operations of the state. The foremost in this attempt was Pericles, who was much younger than Cimon, and of a quite different character. Pericles was descended from the greatest and most illustrious families of Athens: his father, Xanthippus, defeated the Persians at Mycale, and his mother Agarista, was niece to Calisthenes, who expelled the tyrants, and established a popular government in Athens. He had early thoughts of rising in the state, and took lessons from Anaxagoras, in the philosophy of nature. He studied politics with great assiduity, but particularly devoted himself to eloquence, which, in a popular slate, he considered as the fountain of all promotion. His studies were crowned with success; the poets, his cotemporaries, affirm, that his eloquence was so powerful, that, like thunder, he shook and astonished all Greece. He had the art of uniting force and beauty; there was no resisting the strength of his arguments, or the sweetness of his delivery. Thucydides, his great opponent, was often heard to say, that though he had often overthrown him, the power of his persuasion was such, that the audience could never perceive him fallen.
To this eloquence he added also a thorough insight into human nature, as well as a perfect acquaintance with the disposition of his auditors. It was a constant saying with him to himself, Remember Pericles thou art going to speak to men born in the arms of liberty, and still took care to flatter them in their ruling passion. He resembled the tyrant Pisistratus, not only in the sweetness of his voice, but the features of his face, and his whole air and manner. To these natural and acquired graces, he added those of fortune; he was very rich, and had an extensive alliance with all the most powerful families of the state.
The death of Aristides, the banishment of Themistocles, and the absence of Cimon, gave opportunities to his growing ambition. Yet he at first concealed his designs with the most cautious reserve, till finding the people growing more and more in his interest, he set himself at their head, and opposed the principal men of the state with great appearance of disinterelled virtue. The chief obstacle to his rise was Cimon, whose candour and liberality had gained him a numerous party of all ranks and denominations. In opposition to him, Pericles called in popular assistance, and by expencing the public money in bribes, largesses, and other distributions, he easily gained the multitude to espouse his interests.
Thus, having laid a secure foundation in popularity, he next struck at the council of the Areopagus, composed of the most respectable persons of all Athens; and, by the assistance of one Ephialtes, another popular champion, he drew away most causes from the cognizance of that court, and brought the whole order into contempt. In this manner, while Cimon was permitted to conduct the war abroad, he managed all the supplies at home; and, as it was his interest to keep Cimon at a distance, he took care to provide him with a sufficiency of foreign employment.
In this state of parties at Athens, an infurrection of the Helotae, or Lacedaemonian slaves, gave an opportunity of trying the strength of either. These men, who had for several centuries groaned under the yoke of their countrymen, and had been excluded from all hopes of rising, merely by the influence of an unjust precedent to their prejudice, at last took up arms against their masters, and threatened no less than the destruction of the Spartan state. In this extremity the Lacedaemonians sent to Athens to implore succours; but this was opposed by Fphialtes, who declared, that it would be no way adviseable to assist them, or to make a rival city powerful by their assistance. On the other hand, Cimon espoused the cause of Sparta, declaring, that it was weak and inconsistent to maim the Grecian confederacy, by suffering one of its members to be tamely lopped away. His opinion for this time prevailed; he was permitted to march forth at the head of a numerous body to their relief, and the insurrection was quelled at their approach. But shortly after the mischief broke out afresh. The Helots possessed themselves of the strong fortress of Ithome, and the Spartans again petitioned for Athenian assistance. It was now that the party of Pericles was found to prevail, and the Lacedaemonians were refused a compliance with their demands. Thus left to finish the war with their insurgent slaves in the best manner they could, after besieging Ithome, which held out for ten years, they at last became masters of it, sparing the lives of those who defended it, upon condition of leaving Peloponnesus ever after.
In the mean time, the refusal on the side of Athens, and some indignities said to be received on the side of Lacedaemon, revived a jealousy that had long subsisted between these rival states, which continued thence forward to operate with greater or diminished influence, until both were utterly unabled to withstand the smallest efforts of foreign invasion.
The first instance the Athenians gave of their resentment, was to banish Cimon, who had been a favourer of the Spartan cause, for ten years, from the city. They next dissolved their alliance with Sparta, and entered into a treaty with the Argives, the professed enemies of the former. The slaves of Ithome were also taken under Athenian protection, and settled with their families at Naupactus. But what contributed to widen the breach still more, the city of Megara revolting from its alliance with Sparta, was protected and garrisoned by the Athenians; thus was laid the foundation of an inveterate hatred, which ended in mutual destruction.
As, in all beginning enmities, several treaties were entered into, and several leagues concluded on both sides, till at last they came to a formal rupture. Two pitched battles between the Athenians and Corinthians, in which either side was alternatively victorious, sounded the alarm. Another followed between the Athenians and Spartans at Tangara, in which, Cimon forgetting the injury he had sustained from his country, came in to its assistance; but the Athenians suffered a defeat. A month or two after repaired the disgrace, and the Athenians were in their turn victorious. The conduct of Cimon again restored him to public favour; he was recalled from banishment, in which he had spent five years; and it was Pericles, his rival, who first proposed the decree.
The first use Cimon made of his return, was to reconcile the two rival states to each other; and this was so far affected outwardly, that a truce for five years was concluded between them. This led the way to exerting the power of the state upon a more distant enemy. By his advice, a fleet of two hundred sail was manned, and destined, under his command, to conquer the island of Cyprus. He quickly sailed, over-ran the island, and laid siege to Citium. Here, being either wounded by the defendants, or wasted by sickness, he began to perceive the approaches of dissolution; but still mindful of his duty, he ordered his attendants to conceal his death until their schemes were crowned with success. They obeyed with secrecy and success. Thirty days after he was dead, the army, which still supposed itself under his command, gained a signal victory; thus he died not only in the arms of conquest, but gained battles merely by the efficacy of his name. With Cimon, in a great measure, expired the spirit of glory in Athens. As he was the last, so he was the most successful of the Grecian heroes. Such was the terror of the Persians at his name, that they universally deserted the sea-coasts, and would not come within four hundred furlongs of the place where he could be possibly expected.
Pericles being now, by the death of Cimon, freed from a potent rival, set himself to complete the work of ambition which he had begun, and by dividing the conquered lands, amusing the people with shows, and adorning the city with public buildings, he gained such an ascendant over the minds of the people, that he might be said to have attained a monarchical power in Athens. He found means to maintain for eight months in the year a great number of poor citizens, by putting them on board the fleet, consisting of threescore ships, which he fitted out every year. He planted several colonies in the many places which had lately submitted to Athens. By this he cleared the city of a great number of idle persons, who were ever ready to disturb government; and were, at the same time, unable to subsist. But the public buildings which he raised, the ruins of some of which subsist to this day, are sufficient to endear his name to posterity. It is surprising, that in a city not noted for the number of its inhabitants, and in so short a space of time as that of his administration, such laborious, expensive, and magnificent works could be performed. All the arts of architecture, sculpture, and painting were exhausted in his designs; and what still remain, continue to this hour as inimitable models of perfection. To effect these great works, he, in some measure, had recourse to injustice, and availed himself of those treasures which had been supplied by Greece for carrying on the war with Persia, and which having been lodged at Delos, he had address enough to get transported to Athens, where he expended them in securing his own power by all the arts of popularity. By these means Athens became so much admired, and envied by her neighbours, that it went by the name of the
Ornament;
and when it was urged, that the common treasure was squandred away in these works of show, Pericles answered, that the people of Athens were not accountable to any for their conduct; for they had the best right to the treasures of the confederated states who took the greatest care to defend them. He added, that it was fit ingenious artizans should have their share of the public money, since there was still enough left for carrying on the war.
These were rather the arguments of power than persuasion, of a man already in possession than willing upon just grounds to relinquish what he claimed. It was seen not only by the wiser citizens, but by all the states of Greece, that he was daily striding into power, and would, as Pisistratus had done before, make the people the fabricators of their own chains. For remedying this growing evil, the heads of the city opposed Thucydides to his growing power, and attempted to restrain his career by opposing eloquence to popularity.
Thucydides was brother-in-law to Cimon, and had displayed his wisdom on numberless occasions. He was not possessed of the military talents of his rival; but his eloquence gave him a very powerful influence over the people. As he never left the city, he still combated Pericles in all his measures, and for a while brought down the ambition of his rival to the standard of reason.
But his efforts could not long avail against the persuasive power and corrupt influence of his opponent. Pericles every day gained new ground, till he at last found himself possessed of the whole authority of the state. It was then that he began to change his behaviour, and from acting the fawning and humble suppliant, he assumed the haughty airs of royalty. He now no longer submitted himself to the caprice of the people, but changed the democratic state of Athens into a kind of monarchy, without departing however from the public good. He would sometimes indeed win his fellow-citizens over to his will, but at other times, when he found them obstinate, he would in a manner compel them to consult their own interests. Thus, between power and persuasion, public profusion, and private oeconomy, political falsehood, and private integrity, Pericles became the principal ruler at Athens, and all such as were his enemies, became the enemies of the state.
It is not to be wondered, that this prosperous and magnificent state of Athens was not a little displeasing to the rival states of Greece, especially as its state of splendor was, in some measure, formed from their contributions. The Spartans particularly still continued to regard this growing city with envy, and soon shewed their displeasure, by refusing to send deputies to Athens to consult about repairing the temple that had been burnt down during the wars with Persia. The successes of Pericles against the enemy in Thrace, still more encreased their uneasiness; and particularly when sailing round Peloponnesus with an hundred ships, he protected the allies of Greece, and granted their cities all they thought fit to ask him. These successes raised the indignation of Sparta, while they intoxicated Athens with ideas of ambition, and opened new inlets for meditating conquest. The citizens now began to talk of attempts upon Egypt, of attacking the maritime provinces of Persia, of carrying their arms into Sicily, and of extending their conquests from Italy to Carthage. These were views beyond their power, and that rather marked their pride than their ability.
An expedition against Samos, in favour of the Miletians, who had craved their assistance, was the beginning of this rupture, which never after was closed up. It is pretended, that Pericles fomented this war, to please a famous courtezan named Aspasia, of whom he was particularly enamoured. After several events and battles, not worth the regard of history, Pericles besieged the capital of Samos with tortoises and battering rams, which was the first time these military engines had been employed in sieges. The Samians, after sustaining a nine months siege, surrendered. Pericles rased their walls, dispossessed them of their ships, and demanded immense sums to defray the expences of the war. Flushed with this success, he returned to Athens, buried all those who had lost their lives in the siege in the most splendid manner, and pronounced their funeral oration.
A rupture now between the Athenians and Lacedaemonians seemed inevitable.
A. M. 3572.
Pericles, therefore, to anticipate the designs of his rival state, advised that aid should be sent to the people of Corcyra, whom the Corinthians, assisted by the Lacedaemonians, had invaded.
As the quarrel between the Corcyreans and Corinthians gave rise to the great Peloponnesian war, which soon after involved all Greece, it will be necessary to give a slight account of its original. Epidamnus was a colony of the Corcyreans, which growing first rich, and soon after factious, banished the chief of her citizens. The exiles joining with the Illyrians, brought the Epidamnians so low, that they were obliged to send to Corcyra, their parent city, for assistance. The Corcyreans rejecting their request, they had recourse to Corinth; and giving themselves up to that state, were taken under its protection. This, however, the Corcyreans began to resent, and having been remiss in affording assistance themselves, resolved to punish such as should offer any. A rupture ensued between the Corinthians and Corcyreans, some naval engagements ensued, in which the Corcyreans being worsted, had recourse, as has been already observed, to the Athenians for support, who sent some naval succours, which, however, proved of no great efficacy in their desence.
From this war arose another; for Potidaea, a city belonging to Athens, declaring for Corinth, these two states, from being accessaries, became principals, and drew their forces into the field near Potidaea, where a battle ensued, in which the Athenians had the victory. It was in this battle that Socrates saved the life of Alcibiades, his pupil; and after the battle was over, procured him the prize of valour which he himself had more justly earned. The city of Potidaea was soon after besieged in consequence of this victory, and the Corinthians complained to the states of Greece against the Athenians as having infringed the articles of peace. The Lacedaemonians, in particular, admitted them to an audience, where the deputies of Corinth endeavoured to rouse them into a sense of their danger from the ambitious designs of Athens; and threatened, if left unprotected, to put themselves under the command of a power strong enough to grant them protection and safety. After hearing what the Athenians had to reply, the Spartans came to a close debate among themselves, wherein it was universally agreed, that the Athenians were the aggressors, and that they should be reduced to a just sense of their duty. But the dispute was, whether war should be immediately declared against them, or remonstrances made to bring them to reason. Archidamus, one of their kings, a man of prudence and temper, was of opinion, that they were not at this time a match for Athens, and endeavoured to dissuade them from rushing into a thoughtless and improvident war. But Sthenelaides, one of the Ephori, urged the contrary, alledging, that when once they had received an injury, they ought not to deliberate, but that revenge should follow insult. Accordingly a war was declared, and all the confederates were made acquainted with the resolution.
War being thus resolved upon, in order to give a colour of justice to their designs, the Lacedaemonians began by sending ambassadors to Athens; and while they made preparations for acting with vigour, still kept up a shew of seeking redress by treaty. They required of the Athenians the expulsion of some who had prophaned the temple of Minerva at Cylon from their city; they demanded that the siege of Potidaea should be raised, and that the Athenians should cease to infringe upon the liberties of Greece.
Pericles now saw that as he had led the Athenians into a war, it was incumbent upon him to inspire them with courage to prosecute it with success. He shewed his countrymen that even trifles extorted from them with an air of command, were in themselves a sufficient ground for war: that they might promise themselves a considerable share of success from the division in the confederated councils of their opponents: that they had shipping to invade their enemies coasts, and their city being well fortified, could not easily be taken by land. He concluded with telling them the absolute necessity there was for war; and that the more chearfully they undertook it, the easier it would come to an happy conclusion. That the greatest honours had generally recurred to their state from the greatest extremities; that this might serve to animate them in its defence, so as to transmit it with undiminished honour to posterity. The people, giddy, fond of change, and unterrified by distant dangers, readily came into his opinion; and, to give some colour to their proceedings, sent evasive answers to the Spartan demand, and concluded with asserting, that they desired to adjust all differences by treaty, as being unwilling to begin a war; but, in case of danger, would defend themselves with desperate resolution.
Thus the people, from their love of change, entered hastily into the war, but Pericles was personally interested in its declaration. He was deeply indebted to the state, and knew that a time of peace was the only opportunity in which he could be called upon to settle his accounts. It is said that Alcibiades, his nephew, seeing him one day very pensive, and demanding the reason, was answered, that he was considering how to make up his accounts.
"You had better, said he, consider how to avoid being accountable."
Besides this, Pericles finding no happiness in domestic society, gave himself up to the allurements of his mistress Aspasia, whose wit and vivacity had captivated all the poets and philosophers of the age, even Socrates himself not excepted. She was inclined to oppose the Spartan state; and he, in some measure, is thought to acquiesce in her advice.
War being thus resolved on every side, the first dawn of success seemed to offer in favour of Athens; the city of Platea, that had lately declared for them, was surprised by three hundred Thebans, who were let in by a party of the town that joined in the conspiracy. But a part of the citizens that had espoused the opposite interests, falling upon them in the night, killed a part, and took two hundred prisoners, who a little time after were put to death. The Athenians, as soon as the news was brought of this action, sent succours and provisions thither, and cleared the city of all persons who were incapable of bearing arms. From this time all Greece appeared in motion, every part of it took a side in the common quarrel, except a few states who continued neuter till they should see the event of the war. The majority were for the Lacedaemonians, as being the deliverers of Greece, and espoused their interests with ardour. On their side were ranged the Achaians, the inhabitants of Pellene excepted, the people Megara, Locris, Boeotia, Phocis, Ambracia, Leucadia, and Anactorium. On the side of Athens, were the people of Chios, Lesbos, Platea, many of the islands, and several tributary maritime states, including those of Thrace, Potidaea excepted.
The Lacedaemonians immediately after their attempt upon Platea assembled a body of men, making up with their confederates sixty thousand in number: Archidamus, who commanded the army, harrangued them in an animated speech. He told them, that the eyes of all Greece were upon them; that they were superior in numbers, and were to oppose an enemy not only inferior in number, but oppressed with the consciousness of their own violence and injustice. He exhorted them to march boldly into the country they were about to enter, with that courage for which they had been long famous, and that caution which was requisite against so insidious an adversary. The whole army answered with an acclamation of joy; and thus, that war which was to be the destruction of Greece, was commenced in a phrensy of transport by its shortsighted inhabitants, who hurried on to mutual ruin.
Pericles, on the other hand, prepared his scanty body of Athenians to meet the threatened blow. He declared to the Athenians, that should Archidamus, when he was laying waste the Athenian territories, spare any part of those lands that belonged to Pericles himself, he would only consider it as a trick to impose upon Athenian credulity; he, therefore, gave up all his property in those lands, and resigned them back to the state, from which his ancestors had originally received them. He remonstrated to the people, that it was their interest to contract the war, and to let the enemy consume themselves by delay. He advised them to remove all their effects from their country, and to shut themselves up in Athens, without ever hazarding a battle. Their troops indeed were but very scanty compared to those they were to oppose; they amounted but to thirteen thousand heavy armed soldiers, sixteen thousand inhabitants, and twelve hundred horse, with a body of archers about double that number. This was the whole army of the Athenians, but their chief strength consisted in a fleet of three hundred gallies, which, by continually infesting and plundering the enemies coast, raised contributions sufficient to defray the expences of the war.
Imprest with the exhortation of Pericles, the Athenians, with a mixture of grief and resolution, forsook the culture of their fields, and carried all their possessions that could be conveyed away with them into Athens. They had now enjoyed the sweets of peace for near fifty years, and their lands wore an appearance of wealth and industry; but from the fate of war they were once more obliged to forsake culture for encampment, the sweets of rural life for their shocks of battle.
In the mean time, the Lacedaemonians entered the country at Oenoe, a frontier fortress, and leaving it behind them, marched forward to Acharne, an unwalled town, within seven miles of Athens. The Athenians, terrified at their approach, now began to convert their fury against the enemy into reproaches against their former leader. They abused him for bringing them into a war, in which he had not strength to oppose, nor courage to protect; they loudly desired, notwithstanding the inferiority of their number, to be led into the field of battle. Pericles, however, chose the more moderate part. He shut up the city gates, placed sufficient guards at all the posts around, sent out parties of horse to keep the enemy employed; and, at the same time, ordered out one hundred gallies to infest the coasts of Peloponnesus. These precautions at last succeeded; after the Lacedaemonians had laid waste the whole country round Athens, and insulted the defenders of the city by their numbers and their reproaches, finding the place impregnable, they abandoned the siege, and the inhabitants once more issued from their walls in joy and security.
The Athenians after this severe mortification, resolved to retaliate: being left at liberty to act ossensively, as well by land as sea, they invaded the enemies territory with their whole force in turn, and took Nisae, a strong haven, with walls reaching unto the city of Nigara.
Proud of the first dawn of success, the first campaign being elapsed, during the winter they expressed their triumph by public games at the funerals of those that were slain in battle. They placed their bodies in tents three days before the funeral; upon the fourth day coffins of cyprus was sent from the tribes to convey the bones of their relations; the procession marched with solemn pomp, attended by the inhabitants and strangers who visited the city; their relations and children of the soldiers who were killed, stood weeping at the sepulchre; those who fell at the battle of Marathon indeed were buried on the field, but the rest received one common interment in a place called Cerannicus. Pericles, who had contributed to the saving of his country, contributed also to its honour, and pronounced a funeral oration over them, which remains to this day, at once a mark of his eloquence and his gratitude. But the joy of the public was not confined to empty praises, ceremonies, and tears; a stipend was set apart for maintaining the widows and the orphans of those who fell in the service of their country. And thus ended the first year of the Peloponnesian war.
In the beginning of the ensuing summer, the Lacedaemonians renewed their hostilities, and invaded the territories of Athens with the same number of men as before. In this manner these capricious states went on to harrass and depopulate each other: but a more terrible punishment now began to threaten them from nature. A plague broke out in the city of Athens, a more terrible than which is scarcely recorded in the annals of history. It is related, that it began in Ethiopia, whence it descended into Egypt, from thence travelled into Libya and Persia, and at last broke like a flood upon Athens. This pestilence baffled the utmost efforts of art, the most robust constitutions were unable to withstand its attacks, no skill could obviate, nor no remedy dispel the terrible infection. The instant a person was seized, he was struck with despair, which quite disabled him from attempting a cure. The humanity of friends was fatal to themselves, as it was ineffectual to the unhappy sufferers. The prodigious quantity of baggage which had been removed out of their country into their city increased the calamity. Most of the inhabitants, for want of lodging, lived in little cottages, in which they could scarce breathe, while the burning heat of the summer increased the pestilential malignity. They were seen confusedly huddled together, the dead as well as the dying, some crawling through the streets, some lying along by the sides of fountains, whither they had endeavoured to repair to quench the raging thirst which consumed them. Their very temples were filled with dead bodies, and every part of the city exhibited a dreadful image of death, without the least remedy for the present, or the least hopes with regard to futurity. It seized all with such violence, that they fell one upon another as they passed along the streets. It was also attended with such uncommon pestilential vapours, that the very beasts and birds of prey, though famishing round the walls of the city, would not touch the bodies of those who died of it. Even in those who recovered, it left such a tincture of its malignity, that it struck upon their senses. It effected the notices and memory of all the passages of their lives, and they knew neither themselves nor their nearest relations. The circumstances of this disease are described at large by Thucydides, who was sick of it himself; and he observes, among other effects of it, that it introduced into the city a more licentious way of living. For the people at first had recourse to their gods to avert that judgment; but finding they were all alike infected, whether they worshipped them or not, and that it was generally mortal, they abandoned themselves at once to despair and riot: for since they held their lives but as it were by the day, the
were resolved to make the most of their tim
and money. The cause of it was generall
imputed to Pericles, who, by drawing suc
numbers into the city, was thought to hav
corrupted the very air. Yet, though this w
raging within, and the enemy wasting t
country without, he was still in the same mi
as before, that they ought not to put all th
hopes upon the issue of a battle. In the me
time, the enemy advancing towards the co
laid waste the whole country, and returned, after having insulted the wretched Athenians, already thinned by pestilence and famine.
Fickleness and inconstancy were the prevailing characters of the Athenians, and as these carried them on a sudden to their greatest excesses, they soon brought them back within the bounds of moderation and respect. Pericles had been long a favourite; the calamities of the state at last began to render him obnoxious; they had deposed him from the command of his army, but now repented their rashness; and reinstated him a short time after, with more than former authority. By dint of suffering, they began to bear patiently their domestic misfortunes, and, imprest with a love for their country, asked pardon for their former ingratitude. But he did not live long to enjoy his honours. He was seized with the plague, which, like a malignant enemy, struck its severest blow at parting. Being extremely ill and ready to breathe his last, the principal citizens, and such of his friends that had not forsaken him, discoursing in his bed-chamber concerning the loss they were about to sustain, ran over his exploits, and computed the number of his victories. They did not imagine that Pericles attended to what they said, as he seemed insensible; but it was far otherwise, for not a single word of their discourse had escaped him. At last, cried he, why will you extol a series of actions, in which fortune had the greatest part; there is one circumstance which I would not have forgotten, yet which you have passed over; I could wish to have it remembered, as the most glorious circumstance of my life,—that I never yet caused a single citizen to put on mourning.
Thus died Pericles, in whom were united a number of excellent qualities without imparing each other. As well skilled in naval affairs as in the conduct of armies; as well skilled in the arts of raising money as of employing it; eloquent in public, and pleasing in private; he was a patron of artists, at once informing them by his taste and example.
The most memorable transaction of the following years, was the siege of Platea by the Lacedaemonians. This was one of the most famous sieges in antiquity, on account of the vigorous efforts of both parties, but especially for the glorious resistance made by the besieged, and the stratagems to escape the fury of the assailants.
The Lacedaemonians besieged this place in the beginning of the third campaign. As soon as they had fixed their camp round the city, in order to lay waste the places adjacent, the Plataeans sent deputies to the Lacedaemonian general, declaring the injustice of injuring them, who had received their liberties on a former occasion from the Lacedaemonians themselves. The Lacedaemonians replied, that there was but one method to insure their safety, which was to renew that alliance by which they had originally procured their freedom; to disclaim their Athenian supporters, and to unite with the Lacedaemonians, who had power and will to protect them. The deputies replied, they could not possibly come to any agreement without first sending to Athens, whither their wives and children were retired. The Lacedaemonians permitted them to send thither, and the Athenians solemnly promising to succour them to the utmost of their power, the Plataeans resolved to suffer the last extremities rather than surrender, and prepared for a vigorous defence, with a steady resolution to succeed or fall.
Archidamus, the Lacedaemonian general, after calling upon the gods to witness that he did not first infringe the alliance, prepared for the siege with equal perseverance. He surrounded the city with a circumvallation of trees, which were laid very close together, their branches turned towards the city. He then raised batteries upon them, and formed a terrace sufficient to support his warlike machines. His army worked night and day without intermission sor seventy days, one half of the soldiers reposing themselves while the others were at work.
The besieged observing the works begin to rise round them, threw up a wooden wall upon the walls of the city, opposite the platform, in order that they might always out-top the besiegers. This wall was covered on the outside with hydes both raw and dry, in order to shelter it from the besiegers fires. Thus both walls seemed to vie with each other for superiority, till at last the besieged, without amusing themselves at this work any longer, built another within in the form of a half moon, behind which they might retire in case their outer works were forced.
In the mean time, the besiegers having mounted their engines of war, shook the city wall in a very terrible manner; which, though it alarmed the citizens, did not however discourage them: they employed every art that fortification could suggest against the enemy's batteries. They catched with ropes the heads of the battering rams that were urged against them, and deadened their force with levers. The besiegers finding their attack did not go on successfully, and that a new wall was raised against their platform, despaired of being able to storm the place; and, therefore, changed the siege into a blockade, after having vainly attempted to set fire to the city, which was suddenly quenched by a shower. The city was now surrounded by a brick wall, suddenly erected, strengthened on each side by a deep ditch. The whole army was engaged successively upon this wall, and when it was finished they left a guard over half of it; the Boeotians offering to guard the other half, while the rest of the army returned to Sparta.
In this manner the wretched Plataeans were cooped up by a strong wall without any hopes of redress, and only awaited the mercy of the conqueror. There were now in Plataea but four hundred inhabitants, and fourscore Athenians, with an hundred and ten women to dress their victuals, and no other person, whether freeman or slave, all the rest having having been sent to Athens before the siege. At last the inhabitants of Plataea having lost all hopes of succour, and being in the utmost want of provisions, formed a resolution to cut their way through the enemy. But half of them struck with the greatness of the danger, and the boldness of the enterprize, entirely lost courage when they came to the execution, but the rest (who were about two hundred and twenty soldiers) persisted in their resolution, and escaped in the following manner. The besieged first took the height of the wall, by counting the rows of bricks which composed it, and this they did at different times, and employed several men for that purpose, in order that they might not mistake in the calculation. This was the easier, because as the wall stood but at a small distance, every part of it was very visible. They then made ladders of a proper length. All things being now ready for executing the design, the besieged left the city one night when there was no moon, in the midst of a storm of wind and rain. After crossing the first ditch they drew near the wall undiscovered through the darkness of the night, not to mention that the noise made by the rain and wind prevented their being heard. They marched at some distance from one another, to prevent the clashing of their arms, which were light, in order that those who carried them might be the more active; and one of their legs was naked, to keep them from sliding so easily in the mire. Those who carried the ladders laid them in the space between the towers, where they knew no guard was posted, because it rained. That instant twelve men mounted the ladders, armed with only a coat of mail and a dagger, and marched directly to the towers, six on each side. They were followed by soldiers armed only with javelins, that they might mount the easier, and their shields were carried after them to be used in the charge. When most of these were got to the top of the wall, they were discovered by the falling of a tile, which one of their comrades in taking hold of the parapet had thrown down. The alarm was immediately given from the towers, and the whole army approached the wall, without discovering the occasion of the outcry from the gloom of the night and the violence of the storm. Besides which, those who had staid behind in the city, beat an alarm at the same time in another quarter, to make a diversion, so that the enemy did not know which way to turn themselves, and were afraid to quit their posts. But a corps de reserve of three hundred men, who were kept for any unforeseen accident that might happen, quitted the contravallation, and ran to that part where they heard the noise, and torches were held up towards Thebes, to shew that they must run that way. But those in the city, to render the signal of no use, made others at the same time in different quarters, having prepared them on the walls for that purpose. In the mean time, those who had mounted first having possessed themselves of the two towers which flanked the interval where the ladders were set, and having killed those who guarded them, posted themselves there to defend the passage, and keep off the besiegers. Then setting ladders on the top of the wall betwixt the two towers, they caused a good number of their comrades to mount, in order to keep off, by the discharge of their arrows, as well those who were advancing to the foot of the wall, as the others who were hastening to the neighbouring towers. Whilst this was doing they had time to set up several ladders, and to throw down the parapet, that the rest might come up with greater ease. As fast as they came up, they went down on the other side, and drew up near the fosse, on the outside, to shoot at those who appeared. After they were passed over, the men who were in the towers came down last, and made to the fosse to follow after the rest. That instant the guard, with three hundred torches came up. However, as the Plataeans saw their enemies by this light better than they were seen by them, they therefore took a surer aim, by which means the last crossed the ditch without being attacked in their passage. However, this was not done without much difficulty, because the ditch was frozen over, and the ice would not bear on account of thaw and heavy rains. The violence of the storm was of great advantage to them. After all were passed they took the road towards Thebes, the better to conceal their retreat, because it was not likely they had fled towards a city of the enemy's. Immediately they perceived the besiegers with torches in their hands pursuing them in the road that led to Athens. After keeping that of Thebes about six or seven stadia, they turned short towards the mountain, and resumed the route of Athens, whither two hundred and twelve arrived out of two hundred and twenty, who had quitted the place, the rest having returned back to it through fear, one archer excepted, who was taken on the side of the fosse of contravallation. The besiegers, after having pursued them to no purpose, returned to their camp. In the mean time, the Plataeans, who remained in the city, supposing that all their companions had been killed, (because those who were returned, to justify themselves, affirmed they were) sent a herald to demand their dead bodies, but being told the true state of the affair, he withdrew. At the end of the following campaign, the Plataeans being in absolute want of provisions, and unable to make the least defence, surrendered upon condition that they should not be punished till they had been tried and adjudged in form of justice. Five commissioners came for this purpose from Lacedaemon, and these without charging them with any crime, barely asked them whether they had done any service to the Lacedaemonians and the allies in this war? The Plataeans were much surprised, as well as puzzled at this question, and were sensible, that it had been suggested by the Thebans, their professed enemies, who had vowed their destruction. They, therefore, put the Lacedaemonians in mind of the services they had done to Greece in general, both at the battle of Artemisium and that of Plataea, and particularly in Lacedaemonia at the time of the earthquake, which was followed by the revolt of their slaves. The only reason they declared their having joined the Athenians afterwards, was to defend themselves from the hostilities of the Thebans, against whom they had implored the assistance of the Lacedaemonians to no purpose. That if that was imputed to them as a crime, which was only their misfortune, it ought not, however, entirely to obliterate the remembrance of their former services.
"Cast your eyes, said they, on the monuments of your ancestors which you see here, to whom we annually pay all the honours which can be rendered to the names of the dead. You thought fit to intrust their bodies with us, as we were eye-witnesses of their bravery. And yet you will now give up their ashes to their murtherers, in abandoning us to the Thebans who fought against them at the battle of Plataea? Will you enslave a province where Greece recovered its liberty? Will you destroy the temples of those gods to whom you owed the victory? Will you abolish the memory of their founders who contributed so greatly to your safety? On this occasion, we may venture to say, our interest is inseparable from your glory, and you cannot deliver up your ancient friends and benefactors to the unjust hatred of the Thebans, without eternal infamy to yourselves."
One would conclude, that these just remonstrances should have made some impression on the Lacedaemonians, but they were biassed more by the answer the Thebans made, and which was expressed in the most haughty and bitter terms against the Plataeans; and besides, they had brought their instructions from Lacedaemon. They stood, therefore, to their first question, Whether the Plataeans had done them any service since the war? and making them pass one after another, as they severally answered No, each was immediately butchered, and not one escaped. About two hundred were killed in this manner, and twenty-five Athenians, who were among them, met with the same unhappy fate. Their wives, who had been taken prisoners, were made slaves. The Thebans afterwards peopled their city with exiles from Megara and Plataea, but the year after they demolished it entirely. It was in this manner the Lacedaemonians, in the hopes of reaping great advantages from the Thebans, sacrificed the Plataeans to their animosity, ninety-three years after their first alliance with the Athenians.
I pass over several particular incidents of the succeeding campaign, in which the Grecian states mutually destroyed each other, without promoting general happiness, or establishing any common form of government. The fluctuations of success were various. The Athenians took the city of Pylus from the Lacedaemonians; and they, on the other hand, made annual incursions into Attica. More than one overture for a peace was made by Cleon, who had a great ascendant among the Athenians, and prevented their taking effect. The war was, therefore, renewed with all its former animosities. The island of Pylus became the scene of mutual contention. Demosthenes, who afterwards became the celebrated orator, being joined in commission with Cleon, landed on the island, in order to dispossess the Lacedaemonians, who still remained there. They attacked the enemy with great vigour, drove them from post to post, and gaining ground perpetually, at last forced them to the extremity of the island. The Lacedaemonians had stormed a fort that was thought inaccessible. There they drew up in battle array, faced about to that side only where they could be attacked, and defended themselves like so many lions. As the engagement had held the greatest part of the day, and the soldiers were oppressed with heat and weariness, and parched with thirst, the general of the Messenians directed himself to Cleon and Demosthenes, said, that all their efforts would be to no purpose, unless they charged their enemy's rear, and promised, if they would give him but some troops, armed with missive weapons, that he would endeavour to find a passage. Accordingly, he and his followers climbed up certain steep and craggy places, which were not guarded, when, coming down unperceived into the fort, he appeared on a sudden at the backs of the Lacedaemonians, which entirely damped their courage, and afterwards completed their overthrow. They now made but a very feeble resistance, and being oppressed with numbers, attacked on all sides, and dejected through fatigue and despair, they began to give way: but the Athenians seized on all the passes to cut off their retreat. Cleon and Demosthenes finding, that should the battle continue, not a man of them would escape, and being desirous of carrying them alive to Athens, they commanded their soldiers to desist, and caused proclamation to be made by a herald for them to lay down their arms, and surrender at discretion. At these words the greatest part lowered their shields, and clapped their hands in token of approbation. A kind of suspension of arms was agreed upon, and their commander desired leave might be granted him to dispatch a messenger to the camp to know the resolution of the generals. This was not allowed, but they called heralds from the coast, and after several messages, a Lacedaemonian advanced forward, and cried aloud, that they were permitted to treat with the enemy, provided they did not submit to dishonourable terms. Upon this, they held a conference, after which they surrendered at discretion, and were kept till the next day. The Athenians then raising a trophy, and restoring the Lacedaemonians their dead, embarked for their own country, after distributing the prisoners among the several ships, and committing the guard of them to the captains of the gallies. In this battle one hundred and twenty-eight Lacedaemonians fell out of four hundred and twenty, which was their number at first, so that there survived not quite three hundred, an hundred and twenty of whom were inhabitants of the city of Sparta. The siege of the island (to compute from the beginning of it, including the time employed in the truce) had lasted threescore and twelve days. They all now left Pylus, and Cleon's promise, though so vain and rash, was found literally true. But the most surprising circumstance was the capitulation that had been made; for, it was believed, that the Lacedaemonians, so far from surrendering their arms, would die sword-in hand. Being come to Athens, they were ordered to remain prisoners till a peace should be concluded, provided the Lacedaemonians did not make any incursions into their country, for that then they should all be put to death. They left a garrison in Pylus. The Messenians of Naupactus, who had formerly possessed it, sent thither the flower of their youth, who very much infested the Lacedaemonians by their incursions; and, as these Messenians spoke the language of the country, they prevailed with a great number of slaves to join them. The Lacedaemonians dreading a greater evil, sent several deputations to Athens, but to no purpose, the Athenians being too much elated with their prosperity, and especially their late success, to listen to any terms. For two or three years successively hostilities were carried on with alternate success, and nothing but the humbling of the one or the other of the two rival states could decide the quarrel. The Athenians made themselves masters of the island of Cythera; but, on the other hand, were defeated by the Lacedaemonians at Dellion. At length, the two nations began to grow weary of a war, which put them to great expence, and did not procure them any real advantage. A truce for a year was, therefore, concluded between them, which being expired, served to pave the way for a more lasting reconciliation. The death of the two generals that commanded the contending armies, served not a little to hasten this event. Brassidas, the Lacedaemonian, was killed as he was conducting a sally, when besieged in Amphipolis; and Cleon, the Athenian, despising an enemy to which he knew himself superior, was set upon unawares, and, slying for safety, was killed by a soldier who happened to meet him. Thus, these two men, who had long opposed the tranquillity of Greece, and raised their reputations but in a very different way, fell a sacrifice to their own ambition.
They were, however, men of very opposite characters. Brasidas had courage and conduct, moderation and integrity; and, it was he alone who at this time kept up the sinking reputation of his country. He was the only Spartan since Pausanias who appeared with any established character among the confederates, to whom he behaved so well, that they were again brought under the dependence of Sparta; and several cities came in to him as their common deliverer from the tyranny of Athens. The inhabitants of Amphipolis, besides their joining with the other allies in solemnizing his funeral in a public manner, instituted anniversary games, and sacrifices to his memory as an hero; and so far considered him as their founder, that they destroyed all the monuments which had been preserved as marks of their being an Athenian colony. His opposition to the peace was not so much the effects of his obstinacy, as of a true Spartan zeal for the honour of his country, which he was sensible had been treated by the Athenians with too much insolence and contempt. He had now a fair prospect of bringing them to reason, as he was gaining ground upon them, and every day making fresh conquests: and, however he might be transported with the glory of performing great actions, yet the main end of his ambition seems to have been, the bringing the war to an happy conclusion, I must not here omit the generous answer his mother made to the persons who brought her the news of his death. Upon her asking them whether he died honourably, they naturally fell into encomiums on his great exploits, and his personal bravery, and preferred him to all the generals of his time;
"Yes, said she, my son was a valiant man, but Sparta has still many citizens braver than he."
Cleon was another sort of m
n. He was rash, arrogant, and obstinate, contentious, envious, and malicious, covetous and corrupt, and yet, with all these bad qualities, he had some little arts of popularity which raised and supported him. He made it his business to caress the old men; and, as much as he loved money, he often relieved the poor. He had a ready wit, with a way of drollery, that took with many, though with the generality it passed for impudence and buffoonry. He had one very refined way of recommending himself, which was, upon his coming into power, to discard all his old friends, for fear it should be thought he would be biassed by them. At the same time, he picked up a vile set of sycophants in their room, and made a servile court to the lowest dregs of the people; and yet, even they had so bad an opinion of him, that they often declared against him for Nicias, his professed enemy; who, though he took part with the nobility, still preserved an interest in the commons, and was more generally respected. That which Cleon chiefly depended on, was his eloquence; but it was of a boisterous kind, verbose and petulant, and consisted more in the vehemence of his style and utterance, and the distortion of his action and gesture, than in the strength of his reasoning. By this furious manner of harranguing, he introduced among the orators and statesmen a licentiousness and indecency which were not known before, and which gave rise to the many riotous and disorderly proceedings which were afterwards in the assemblies, when almost every thing was carried by noise and tumult. In the military part of his service, he was as unaccountable as in the rest of his conduct. He was not naturally formed for war, and only made use of it as a cloak for his ill practices, and because he could not carry on his other views without it. His taking Sphacteria was certainly a great action, but it was a rash and desperate one; and it has been shewn how he was undesignedly drawn into it by a boast of his own. However, he was so elated with the success of that expedition, that he fancied himself a general, and the people were brought to have the same opinion. But the event soon undeceived them, and convinced them that he knew better how to lead in the assembly than in the field. In reality, he was not a man to be trusted in either. For, in the one he was more of a blusterer than of a soldier, and in the other, he had more of an incendiary than of a patriot.
The Lacedaemonians were no less inclined to peace than the Athenians and were glad to treat at this time while they could do it with honour: besides, they had nothing more at heart than the imprisonment of their men taken at Pylus, they being the chief of their city; and, among other considerations, it was not the least, that the truce which they had made for Argos for thirty years, was just upon expiring. This was a strong and flourishing city, and though it was not of itself a match for Sparta, yet they knew it was far from being contemptible, and that it held too good a correspondence with its neighbours, not to make itself capable of giving them a great deal of uneasiness. The matter having been canvassed and debated most part of the winter, the Lacedaemonians, to bring the treaty to a conclusion, gave out, that they resolved as soon as the season would permit to fortify in Attica. Upon which, the Athenians grew more moderate in their demands, and a peace was concluded in the tenth year of the war between the two states and their confederates for fifty years. The chief articles being, that the garrisons should be evacuated, and the towns and prisoners restored on both sides. This was called the Nician peace, because Nicias, who was just the reverse of his rival Cleon, was the chief instrument in it. Besides the tender concern he always expressed for his country, he had more particular ends in it, in securing his reputation. For he had been upon many expeditions, and had generally succeeded in them; but yet he was sensible how much he owed to his good fortune and his cautious management, and he did not care to risque what he had already got for the hopes of more.
CHAP. VIII. From the Peace of NICIAS to the end of the PELOPONNESSIAN War.
EVERY thing now promised a restoration of former tranquillity. The Boeotians and Corinthians were the first that shewed signs of discontent, and used their utmost endeavours to excite fresh troubles. To obviate any dangers arising from that quarter, the Athenians and Lacedaemonians united in a league offensive and defensive, which served to render them more formidable to their neighbouring states, and more assured with regard to each other. Yet still the former animosities and jealousies fermented at bottom, and while friendship seemed to gloss over external appearances, fresh discontents were gathering below. The character indeed of Nicias was peaceable, and he did all in his power to persuade the Athenians to cultivate their general tranquillity. But a new promoter of troubles was now beginning to make his appearance, and from him, those who wished for peace had every thing to fear. This was no other than the celebrated Alcibiades, the disciple of Socrates, a youth equally remarkable for the beauty of his person and the greatness of his mental accomplishments.
The strict intimacy between Alcibiades and Socrates is one of the most remarkable circumstances of his life. This philosopher observing excellent natural qualities in him, which were greatly heightened by the beauty of his person, bestowed incredible pains in cultivating so valuable a plant, lest, being neglected, it should wither as it grew, and absolutely degenerate: and, indeed, Alcibiades was exposed to numberless dangers; the greatness of his extraction, his vast riches, the authority of his family, the credit of his guardians, his personal talents, his exquisite beauty, and, still more than these, the flattery and complaisance of all who approached him. One would have concluded, says Plutarch, that fortune had surrounded and invested him with all these pretended advantages, as with so many ramparts and bulwarks, to render him inaccessible and invulnerable to all the darts of philosophy, those salutary darts which strike to the very heart, and leave in it the strongest incitements to virtue and solid glory. But those very obstacles redoubled the zeal of Socrates. Notwithstanding the strong endeavours that were used to divert this young Athenian from a correspondence which alone was capable of securing him from so many snares, he devoted himself entirely to it; he had the most unbounded wit; he was fully sensible of Socrates's extraordinary merit, and could not resist the charms of his sweetly insinuating eloquence, which at that time had a greater ascendent over him than the allurements of pleasure. He was so zealous a disciple of that great master, that he followed him wherever he went, took the utmost delight in his conversation, was extremely well pleased with his principles, received his instructions, and even his reprimands, with wonderful docility, and was so moved with his discourses, as even to shed tears and abhor himself; so weighty was the force of truth in the mouth of Socrates, and in so odious a light did he expose the vices to which Alcibiades abandoned himself. Alcibiades in those moments when he listened to Socrates, differed so much from himself, that he appeared quite another man. However, his head-strong fiery temper, and his natural fondness for pleasure, which was heightened and inflamed by the discourses and advice of young people, soon plunged him into his former irregularities, and tore him as it were from his master
, who was obliged to pursue him as a slave who had escaped correction. This vicissitude of flights and returns of virtuous resolutions and relapses into vice, continued a long time, but still Socrates was not disgusted by his levity, and always flattered himself with the hopes of bringing him back to his duty; and hence certainly arose the strong mixture of good and evil that always appeared in his conduct; the instructions which his master had given him sometimes prevailing, and, at other times, the fire of his passions hurrying him, in a manner, against his own will into things of a quite opposite nature. Among the various passions that were discovered in him, the strongest and most prevailing was a haughty turn of mind, which would force all things to submit to it, and could not bear a superior, or even an equal. Although his birth and uncommon talents smoothed the way to his attaining the highest employments in the republic, there was nothing however to which he was so fond of owing the credit and authority he wanted to gain over the people, as to the force of his eloquence, and the persuasive grace of his orations. To this, his intimacy with Socrates might be of great service. Alcibiades with such a cast of mind as we here described, was not born for repose, and had set every engine at work to traverse the treaty lately concluded between the two states, but not succeeding in his attempt, he endeavoured to prevent its taking effect. He was disgusted at the Lacedaemonians, because they directed themselves only to Nicias, of whom they had a very high opinion; and, on the contrary, seemed to take no manner of notice of him, though his ancestors had enjoyed the rights of hospitality among them. The first thing he did to infringe the peace was this: having been informed that the people of Argos only wanted an opportunity to break with the Spartans, whom they equally hated and feared, he flattered them secretly with the hopes that the Athenians would succour them, by suggesting to them, that they were ready to break a peace which was no way advantageous to them. Accordingly, he laid hold of this juncture, and improved the pretext the Lacedaemonians had given to exasperate the people both against them and Nicias; which had so good an effect, that every thing seemed disposed for a treaty with Argos: of which, the Lacedaemonians being very apprehensive, immediately dispatched their ambassadors to Athens, who at first said what seemed very satisfactory, that they came with full power to concert all matters in difference upon equal terms. The council received their propositions, and the people were to assemble the next day to give them audience. Alcibiades, in the mean while, fearing lest this negociation would ruin his designs, had a secret conference with the ambassadors, and persuaded them, under a colour of friendship, not to let the people know at first what full powers their commission gave them, but intimate, that they came only to treat and make proposals, for that otherwise they would grow insolent in their demands, and extort from them such unreasonable terms as they could not with honour consent to. They were so well satisfied with the prudence and sincerity of this advice, that he drew them from Nicias to rely intirely upon himself: and, the next day, when the people were assembled, and the ambassadors introduced, Alcibiades, with a very obliging air, demanded of them with what powers they were come? They made answer, that they were not come as plenipotentiaries. Upon which he instantly changed his voice and countenance, and exclaiming against them as notorious liars, bid the people take care how they transacted any thing with men on whom they could have so little dependence. The people dismissed the ambassadors in a rage, and Nicias knowing nothing of the deceit, was confounded and in disgrace. To redeem his credit, he proposed being sent once more to Sparta: but not being able to gain such terms there as the Athenians demanded, they immediately upon his return struck up a league with the Argives for an hundred years, including the Eleans and Mantineans, which yet did not in terms cancel that with the Lacedaemonians, though it is plain, that the whole intent of it was levelled against them. Upon this new alliance, Alcibiades was declared general; and though his best friends could not commend the method by which he brought about his designs, yet it was looked upon as a great reach in politics, thus to divide and shake almost all Peloponnesus, and to remove the war so far from the Athenian frontier, that even success would profit the enemy but little should they be conquerors; whereas, if they were defeated, Sparta itself would be hardly safe.
This defection of the confederates began to awaken the jealousy of Sparta, they resolved, therefore, to remedy the evil before it spread too far; wherefore, drawing out their whole force, both of citizens and slaves, and being joined by their allies, they encamped almost under the walls of Argos. The Argives having notice of their march, made all possible preparations, and came out with a full resolution to fight them. But just as they were going to engage, two of their officers went over to Agis, the Spartan king and general, and proposed to him to have the business made up by a reference. He immediately closing with the offer, in order to it, granted them a truce for four months, and drew off his army; the whole affair being transacted by these three, without any general consent or knowledge on either side. The Peloponnesians, though they durst not disobey their orders, inveighed grievously against Agis for letting such an advantage slip as they could never promise to themselves again. For they had actually hemmed in the enemy, and that with the best, if not the greatest army, that ever was brought into the field. And the Argives were so little apprehensive of danger on their side, that they were no less incensed against their mediators, one of whom they forced to the altars to save his life, and confiscated his goods.
Thus every thing seemed to favour the Athenian interest; and their prosperity, for this was the most flourishing period of their duration, blinded them to such a degree, that they were persuaded no power was able to resist them. In this disposition they resolved to take the first opportunity of adding the island of Sicily to their empire, and soon an occasion offered to their wish. Ambassadors were sent from the people of Egesta, who, in quality of their allies, came to implore their aid against the inhabitants of Selinuta, who were assisted by the Syracusans. It was the sixteenth year of the Peloponnesian war. They represented, among other things, that should they be abandoned, the Syracusans, after seizing their city, as they had done that of Leontium, would possess themselves of all Sicily, and not fail to aid the Peloponnesians, who were their founders; and, that they might put them to as little charge as possible, they offered to pay the troops that should be sent to succour them. The Athenians, who had long waited for an opportunity to declare themselves, sent deputies to Egesta to enquire into the state of affairs, and to see whether there was money enough in the treasury to defray the expence of so great a war. The inhabitants of that city had been so artful as to borrow from the neighbouring nations a great number of gold and silver vases, worth an immense sum of money, and of these they made a shew when the Athenians arrived. The deputies returned with those of Egesta, who carried threescore talents in ingots, as a month's pay for the gallies which they demanded and a promise of larger sums, which they said were ready both in the public treasury and in the temples. The people struck with these fair appearances, the truth of which they did not give themselves the leisure to examine; and, seduced by the advantageous reports which their deputies made with the view of pleasing them, immediately granted the Egestans their demand, and appointed Alcibiades, Nicias, and Lamachus, to command the fleet, with full power not only to succour Egesta, and restore the inhabitants of Leontium to their city, but also to regulate the affairs of Sicily, in such a manner as might best suit the interests of the republic. Nicias was appointed one of the generals to his very great regret; for, besides other motives, which made him dread that command, he shunned it because Alcibiades was to be his colleague. But the Athenians promised themselves greater success from this war, should they not resign the whole conduct of it to Alcibiades, but temper his ardour and audacity with the coldness and wisdom of Nicias. Nicias not daring to oppose Alcibiades openly, endeavoured to do it indirectly, by starting a great number of difficulties, drawn particularly from the great expence of this expedition. He declared, that since they were resolved upon war, they ought to carry it on in such a manner as might suit the exalted reputation to which Athens had attained. That a fleet was not sufficient to oppose so formidable a power as that of the Syracusans and their allies: that they must raise an army composed of good horse and foot, if they desired to act in a manner worthy of so noble a design; that, besides their fleet, which was to make them masters at sea, they must have a great number of transports to carry provisions perpetually to the army, which otherwise could not possibly subsist in an enemy's country: that they must carry vast sums of money with them, without waiting for that promised them by the citizens of Egesta, who perhaps were ready in words only, and very probably might break their promise: that they ought to weigh and examine the disparity there was between themselves and their enemies with regard to the conveniencies and wants of the army, the Syracusans being in their own country, in the midst of powerful allies, disposed by inclination, as well as engaged by interest, to assist them with men, arms, horses, and provisions; whereas, the Athenians would carry on the war in a remote country, possessed by their enemies, where, in the winter, news could not be brought them in less than four months time; a country where all things would oppose the Athenians, and nothing be procured but by force of arms: that it would reflect the greatest ignominy on the Athenians, should they be forced to abandon their enterprize, and thereby become the scorn and contempt of their enemies, by their neglecting to take all the precautions which so important a design required: that as for himself, he was determined not to go unless he was provided with all things necessary for the expedition, because the safety of the whole army depended on that circumstance; and that he would not rely on caprice, or the precarious engagements of the allies. Nicias had flattered himself, that this speech would cool the ardour of the people, whereas it only inflamed it the more. Immediately the generals had full powers given them to raise as many troops, and fit out as many gallies as they should judge necessary; and the levies were accordingly carried on in Athens, and other places, with inexpressible activity.
When prepared, they accordingly set sail, after having appointed Corcyra the rendezvous for most of the allies, and such ships as were to carry the provisions and warlike stores. All the citizens, as well as foreigners in Athens, flocked by day-break to the port of Pyraeus. The former attended by their children, relations, friends, and companions, with a joy overcast with a little sorrow, upon their bidding adieu to persons that were as dear to them as life, who were setting out on a distant and very dangerous expedition, from which it was uncertain whether they would ever return, though they flattered themselves with the hopes that it would be successful. The foreigners came thither to feed their eyes with a sight which was highly worthy their curiosity, for no single city in the world had ever fitted out so gallant a fleet. Those indeed which had been sent against Epidaurus and Potidaea, were as considerable with regard to the number of soldiers and ships, but then they were not equipped with so much magnificence, neither was their voyage so long, nor their enterprize so important. Here were seen a land and a naval army provided with the utmost care, and at the expence of particular persons, as well as of the public, with all things necessary on account of the length of the voyage, and the duration of the war. The city furnished an hundred empty gallies, that is threescore light ones, and forty to transport the soldiers heavily armed. Every mariner received daily a drachma, or ten pence English, for his pay, exclusively of what the captains of ships gave the rowers of the first bench. Add to this, the pomp and magnificence that was displayed universally, every one striving to eclipse the rest, and each captain endeavouring to make his ship the lightest, and, at the same time, the gayest in the whole fleet. I shall not take notice of the choice of the soldiers and seamen, who were the flower of the Athenians, nor of their emulation with regard to the beauty and neatness of their arms and equipage, any more than of their officers, who had laid out considerable sums purely to distinguish themselves, and to give foreigners an advantageous idea of their persons and circumstances, so that this sight had the air of a pageant, in which the utmost magnificence is displayed, rather than of a warlike expedition. But the boldness and greatness of the design still exceeded its expence and splendor.
When the ships were loaded, and the troops got on board, the trumpet sounded, and solemn prayers were offered up for the success of the expedition; gold and silver cups were filling every where with wine, and the accustomed libations were poured out; the people who lined the shore shouting, at the same time, and lifting up their hands to heaven to wish their fellow-citizens a good voyage and success. And now the hymn being sung, and the ceremonies ended, the ships sailed one after another out of the harbour, after which they strove to outsail one another, till the whole fleet met at Aegina. From thence it made to to Corcyra, where the army of the allies was assembled with the rest of the fleet.
Being now arrived at Sicily, the generals were divided in their opinions as to the place where they should make a descent. Lamachus, one of the generals, was for making directly for Syracuse. He urged, that it was as yet unprovided, and under the greatest consternation; that an army was always most terrible on its approach before the enemy had time to recollect and make danger familiar; these reasons, however, were over-ruled. It was agreed to reduce the smaller cities first, when having detached ten gallies only to take a view of the situation and harbour of Syracuse, they landed with the rest of their forces, and surprised Catana.
In the mean time, the enemies of Alcibiades had taken occasion from his absence, to attack him with redoubled vigour. They aggravated his misconduct in neglecting the proper method of attack, and enforced their accusation, by alledging, that he had prophaned the mysteries of Ceres; this was sufficient to induce the giddy multitude to recal their general, but for fear of raising a tumult in the army, they only sent him orders to return to Athens to pacify the people by his presence. Alcibiades obeyed the orders with seeming submission, but reflecting on the inconstancy and caprice of his judges, the instant he was arrived at Thurium, and had got on shore, he disappeared, and eluded the pursuit of those who sought after him; the galley, therefore, returned without him, and the people in a rage condemned him to death for his contumacy. His whole estate was confiscated, and all the orders of religion were commanded to curse him. Some time after, news being brought him that the Athenians had condemned him to death; I hope one day, saith he, to make them sensible that I am still alive.
The Syracusans had by this time put themselves in a posture of defence, and finding that Nicias did not advance towards them, they talked of attacking him in his camp; and some of them asked, in a scoffing way, Whether he was come into Sicily to settle at Catana? He was roused by this insult, and resolved to make the best of his way to Syracuse. He durst not attempt it by land for want of cavalry, and he thought it equally hazardous to make a descent by sea upon an enemy who was so well prepared to receive him: however, he chose the latter way, and succeeded in it by a stratagem. He had gained a citizen of Catana to go as a deserter to the Syracusans, and informed them, that the Athenians lay every night in the town without their arms; and that early in the morning, on a certain day appointed, they might surprize them, seize on their camp with all their arms and baggage, burn their fleet in the harbour, and destroy the whole army. The Syracusans gave credit to him, and marched with all their forces towards Catana; which Nicias had no sooner notice of, but he embarked his troops, and steering away for Syracuse, landed them there the next morning, and fortified himself in the out-skirts of the town. The Syracusans were so provoked at this trick being put upon them, that they immediately returned to Syracuse, and presented themselves without the walls in order of battle. Nicias marched out of his trenches to meet them, and a very sharp action ensued, wherein, at length, the Athenians got the better, and forced the enemy back to the city, after having killed two hundred and sixty of them and their confederates, with the loss of fifty of their own men. They were not as yet in a condition to attack the city, and therefore took up their winter quarters at Catana and Naxus.
The year following greater projects were undertaken, for, having received a supply of horse from Athens, with provisions, and other stores of war, Nicias set sail for Syracuse, in order to block it up by sea and land. In this manner did the little state of Athens spread terror among all the neighbouring states, and now risen to its utmost height, began to aspire at universal empire. Athens had already been the mistress of arts and philosophy, it now, with inverted ambition, aimed at setting mankind an example of the arts of conquest and of war, but they had never considered that a petty state raised artificially into power, is liable to a thousand accidents in its way to conquest; they had now sent out their whole force into Sicily, and while they fought to decide the fate of Syracuse, they were in fact contending for their own; the existence of Athens and Syracuse depended so much on the event of the present invasion, that both sides fought with the utmost perseverance, and historians have been minute in the detail.
The siege was now carried on in a more regular and skilful manner than had ever been practised before, and men were taught a new lesson now, as well in the arts of attack as of defence. Nicias found it necessary, in the first place, to gain Epipolae, an high hill which commanded the city, and had a steep craggy passage up to it. The Syracusans were so sensible of the importance of this post, that they had ordered a detachment of seven hundred men to march upon a signal given to the defence of it. But Nicias had landed his men in a little remote harbour so secretly and so suddenly, that they easily made themselves masters of it. And the seven hundred running up from the plains in a confused manner to dispossess them, were repulsed with the loss of three hundred of them and their leader. Nicias built a fort there, as a magazine, and proceeded to invest the town on the land-side, so as to prevent any communication with the country. The enemy endeavouring to defeat his works, and render them useless, several skirmishes ensued, wherein the Athenians had generally the better: but, in one of them, Lamachus being pressed hard, and abandoned by his men, was killed. The Syracusans being still intent on the recovery of Epipolae, ordered up another detachment thither. Nicias was at this time sick in the fort, and in bed, with only his servants about him. But when he found the enemy were forcing his intrenchments, he got up and set fire to the engines, and other wood that lay scattered about the fort; which had so good an effect, that it served as a signal to his own troops to come up to his relief, and so terrified and confounded those of the enemy, that they retreated into the city. From thenceforth, Nicias, who was now sole general, conceived great hopes; for several cities of Sicily, which hitherto had not declared for either side, came and joined him, and there arrived from all quarters vessels laden with provisions for his army, all parties being eager to go over to him, because he had acquired the superiority, and been exceedingly successful in all his undertakings. The Syracusans seeing themselves blocked up both by sea and land, and losing all hopes of being able to defend their city any longer, already proposed an accommodation. Gylippus, who was coming from Lacedaemon to their assistance, having heard in his passage the extremity to which they were reduced, and looking upon the whole island as lost, sailed forward nevertheless, not in the view of defending Sicily, but only to preserve to the nations of Italy such cities as were subject to them in that island, if it were not too late, and if this could be done; for fame had declared in all places, that the Athenians had already possessed themselves of the whole island, and were headed by a general whose wisdom and good fortune rendered him invincible.
The
ortifications of the Athenians were now almost completed, they had drawn a double wall near half a league in length along the plain and the fens towards the great port, and had almost reached it. There now remained on one side only a small part of the wall to be finished, and the Syracusans were upon the brink of ruin; they had no hopes left; they were unable to defend themselves, and they knew not where to look for succours; for this reason, they resolved to surrender, and a council was held to settle the articles of capitulation which were to be presented to Nicias.
It was at that very instant, and in this most distressful juncture, that a messenger arrived at Syracuse from Corinth with news of speedy relief. The whole body of citizens flocked round the messenger of such welcome information. He gave them to understand, that Gylippus, the Lacedaemonian general, would be with them immediately, and was followed by a great many other gallies which came to his aid. The Syracusans astonished, or rather stupefied as it were with this news, could scarce believe what they heard. Whilst they were thus sluctuating and in doubt, a courier arrived from Gylippus to inform them of his approach, and ordered them to march over all their troops to meet him. He himself after taking a fort in his way, marched in order of battle directly for Epipolae, and ascending by Euryclus as the Athenians had done, he prepared to attack them from without, whilst the Syracusians should charge them on their side with the forces of Syracuse. The Athenians, exceedingly surprised by his arrival, drew up hastily, and without order under the wall; with regard to himself, laying down his arms when he approached, he sent word by a herald, that he would allow the Athenians five days to leave Sicily. Nicias did not condescend to make the least answer to this proposal; and some of his soldiers bursting out a laughing, asked the herald, whether the presence of a Lacedaemonian privateer, and the trifling wand of an herald, could make any change in the present state of the city? Both sides, therefore, prepared for battle.
Gylippus began by storming the fort of Labdalla, and cutting in pieces all who were found in it. The Athenians, in the mean time, were not idle in forming entrenchments to oppose him, while the besieged were equally assiduous in cutting down and breaking through those walls and circumvallations which were carried round their city. At length, both sides drew up their forces in battle array between the walls, which the Athenians had raised to keep off the enemy. In the first engagement the cavalry of Gylippus being rendered useless from the narrowness of the place, to re-animate his soldiers, by doing them justice, he had the courage to reproach himself for the ill success they had met with, and to declare publicly, that he, not they, had occasioned the late defeat, because he had made them fight in too narrow a spot of ground. However, he promised soon to give them an opportunity of recovering both their honour and his; and, accordingly, the very next day he led them against the enemy, after having exhorted them in the strongest terms to behave in a manner worthy of their ancient glory. Nicias perceiving, that though he should not desire to come to a battle, it would, however, be absolutely necessary for him to prevent the enemy from extending their line beyond the contravallation, to which they were already very near, (because otherwise this would be granting them a certain victory) therefore, marched boldly against the Syracusans. Gylippus brought up his troops beyond that place where the walls terminated on both sides, in order that he might leave the more room to extend his battle, when, charging the enemy's left wing with his horse, he put it to flight, and soon after defeated their right. We have an instance of what the experience and abilities of a great captain are capable of producing; for Gylippus, with the same men, the same arms, the same horses, and the same ground, by only changing his order of battle, defeated the Athenians, and beat them quite to their camp. The following night the victors carried on their wall beyond the contravallation of the Athenians, and thereby deprived them of all hopes of being ever able to surround the city. Nicias had ever since the arrival of Gylippus been put upon the defensive, and as he daily lost ground in the country, he retired towards the sea, to keep that open in case of accidents, and to bring in provisions. For this purpose, he possessed himself of Plemmyrium, near the great harbour, where he built three forts, and kept himself up as it were in garrison. Gylippus took this opportunity to gain over the inland cities; and, at the same time, arrived the fleet which was expected from Corinth. Nicias, under these circumstances, wrote a very melancholy account of his affairs to Athens; that the enemy were become so superior to him, that he was not in a condition to force their intrenchments; and, that instead of besieging them, he was now besieged himself; that the towns revolted from him; the slaves and mercenaries deserted; that his troops were employed in guarding the forts and fetching in provisions, and that in this latter service many of them were cut off by the enemy's horse. That the fleet was in as bad a condition as the army; and that, in short, without a speedy reinforcement of men, ships, and money, equal to what he had at first set out with, it was in vain to attempt any thing farther: then, as to his own particular, he complained of his being afflicted with sharp nephritic pains, which rendered him incapable of going on with the service; and, therefore, pressed to be recalled." The Athenians were so affected with this letter, that they named Eurymedon and Demosthenes to go over with fresh supplies, the former immediately with ten gallies, and the other early in the spring with a stronger force. At the same time, they appointed Menander and Euthydemus to act as assistants to Nicias, but would not grant his request of coming home. In the mean time, Gylippus, who had made the tour of Sicily, returned with as many men as he could raise in the whole island, and prevailed with the Syracusans to fit out the strongest sleet in their power, and to hazard a battle at sea, upon the presumption that the success would answer the greatness of the enterprize. This advice was strongly enforced by Hermocrates, who exhorted the Syracusans not to abandon to their enemies the empire of the seas. He observed, that the Athenians themselves had not received it from their ancestors, nor been always possessed of it; that the Persian war had in a manner forced them into the knowledge of naval affairs, notwithstanding two great obstacles, their disposition, and the situation of their city, which stood at a considerable distance from the sea: that they had made themselves formidable to other nations, not so much by their real strength, as by their courage and intrepidity: that they ought to copy them; and since they had to do with enemies who were so enterprising, it was fit they should be equally daring.
This advice was approved, and accordingly a large fleet was equipped. Gylippus led out all his land-forces in the night-time to attack the forts of Plemmyrium. Thirty-five gallies of Syracuse, which were in the great harbour, and forty-five in the lesser, where was an arsenal for ships, were ordered to advance towards Plemmyrium, to amaze the Athenians, who would find themselves attacked both by sea and land at the same time. The Athenians at this news went on board also, and with twentyfive ships sailed to fight the thirty-five Syracusan vessels, which were sailing out against them from the great harbour, and opposed thirty-five more to the forty-five of the enemy which were come out of the little port. A sharp engagement was fought at the mouth of the great harbour, one party endeavouring to force their way into it, and the other to keep them out.
Those who defended the forts of Plemmyrium having flocked to the shore to view the battle, Gylippus attacked the forts unexpectedly by day-break; and having carried the greatest of them by storm, the soldiers who defended the other two, were so terrified, that they abandoned them in a moment. After this advantage the Syracusans sustained a considerable loss, for such of their vessels as fought at the entrance of the harbour, (after having forced the Athenians) bulged furiously one against the other, as they entered it in disorder; and, by this means, shifted the victory to their enemies, who were not contented with pursuing, but also gave chace to those who were victorious in the great harbour. Eleven Syracusan gallies were sunk, and great numbers of the sailors in them killed. Three were taken; but the Athenians likewise lost three, and after towing off those of the enemy, they raised a trophy in a little island lying before Plemmyrium, and retired to the center of their camp.
One circumstance which the besieged considered of the greatest importance, was to attempt a second engagement both by sea and land, before the fleet and other succours sent by the Athenians should arrive. They had concerted fresh measures for a battle at sea, by improving from the errors they had committed in the last engagement. The change made in the gallies was, their prows were now shorter, and, at the same time, stronger and more solid than before. For this purpose, they fixed great pieces of timber projecting forward on each side of the prows, and to these pieces they joined beams by way of props. The beams extended to the length of six cubits on each side of the vessel both within and without. By this they hoped to gain an advantage over the gallies of the Athenians, which did not dare, because of the weakness of their prows, to attack an enemy in front, but only in flank, not to mention, that should the battle be fought in the harbour, they would not have room to spread themselves, nor to pass between two gallies, in which lay their greatest art, nor to tack about after they should have been repulsed, in order to return to the charge; whereas, the Syracusans by their being masters of the whole extent of the harbour, would have all these advantages, and might reciprocally assist one another. On these circumstances the latter founded their hopes of victory.
Gylippus, therefore, first drew all the infantry out of the camp, and advanced towards that part of the contravallation of the Athenians which faced the city, whilst the troops of Olympia marched towards the other, and their gallies set sail.
Nicias did not care to venture a second battle, saying, that as he expected a fresh fleet every moment, and a great reinforcement under Demosthenes, it would betray the greatest want of judgment, should he, as his troops were inferior in number to those of the enemy, and already fatigued, hazard a battle without being forced to it. On the contrary, Menander and Euthydemus, who had just before been appointed to share the command with Nicias till the arrival of Demosthenes, fired with ambition, and jealous of those generals, were eager to perform some great exploit, to bereave the one of his glory, and if possible eclipse that of the other. The pretence they alledged on this occasion was, the fame and reputation of Athens; and they asserted with so much vehemence, that it would be entirely destroyed should they shun the battle as the Syracusans offered it them, that they at last forced Nicias to a compliance. The Athenians had seventy-five gallies, and the Syracusans eighty.
The first day the fleets continued in sight of each other, in the great harbour, without engaging, and only a few skirmishes passed, after which both parties retired; while the land-forces acted in the same manner. The Syracusans did not make the least motion the second day. Nicias, taking advantage of this inactivity, caused the transports to draw up in a line at some distance from one another, in order that his gallies might retire behind them with safety, in case he should be defeated. On the morrow the Syracusans came up sooner than usual, when a great part of the day was spent in skirmishing, after which they retired. The Athenians did not suppose they would return, but imagined that fear would make them fly. But having refreshed themselves in great diligence, and returning on board their gallies, they attacked the Athenians, who were far from expecting them. The latter being now forced to return immediately on board their ships, they entered them in great disorder; so that they had not time to draw them up in a line of battle, and most of the sailors were fasting. Victory did not long continue in suspence. The Athenians, after making a short and slight resistance, retired behind their line of transports. The enemy pursued them thither, but were stopped by the yards of those ships to which were fixed dolphins of lead: these being very heavy, had they fallen on the enemy's gallies, would have sunk them at once. The Athenians lost seven gallies in this engagement, and a great number of soldiers were either killed or taken prisoners.
This loss threw Nicias into the utmost consternation: all the misfortunes he had met with ever since the time he had enjoyed the supreme command, came into his mind, and he was now involved in a greater than any of them, by his complying with the advice of his colleagues. Whilst he was revolving these gloomy ideas, Demosthenes's fleet was seen coming forward in great pomp, and with such an air as might fill the enemy with dread. It was now the day after the battle. This fleet consisted of seventy-three gallies, on board of which were five thousand fighting men, and about three thousand archers, slingers, and bowmen. All these gallies were richly trimmed, their prows being adorned with shining streamers, manned with stout rowers, commanded by good officers, and echoing with the sound of clarions and trumpets, Demosthenes having affected an air of pomp and triumph purposely to strike terror into the enemy.
This gallant sight alarmed them indeed beyond expression. They did not see any end, or even the least suspension of their calamities. All they had hitherto done or suffered was as nothing, and their work was to begin again. What hopes could they entertain of being able to weary out the patience of the Athenians, since, though they had a camp intrenched in the middle of Attica, were however able to send a second army into Sicily as considerable as the former, and that their power, as well as their courage, seemed, notwithstanding all their losses, instead of diminishing, to increase daily.
Demosthenes having made an exact enquiry into the state of things, imagined it would not be proper for him to lose time as Nicias had done, who having spread an universal terror at his first arrival, becau
afterwards the object of contempt for his having wintered in Catana, instead of going directly to Syracuse, and had afterwards given Gylippus an opportunity of throwing troops into it. He flattered himself with the hopes that he should be able to carry the city at the first attack, by taking advantage of the alarm which the news of his arrival would spread in every part of it, and by that means should immediately put an end to the war; otherwise he intended to raise the siege, and no longer harrass and lessen the troops by fighting battles never decisive, nor quite exhaust the city of Athens, by employing its treasures in needless expences.
Nicias, terrified by this bold and precipitate resolution of Demosthenes, conjured him not to be so hasty, but to take time to weigh things deliberately, that he might have no cause to repent of what he should do. He observed to him, that the enemy would be ruined by delays; that their provisions as well as money were entirely exhausted; that their allies were going to abandon them; that they must soon be reduced to such extremity for want of provisions, as would force them to surrender, as they had before resolved. For there were certain persons in Syracuse who held a secret correspondence with Nicias, and exhorted him not to be impatient, because the Syracusans were tired with the war and with Gylippus; and that should the necessity to which they were reduced be ever so little increased, they would surrender at discretion.
As Nicias did not explain himself clearly, and would not declare in express terms that sure and certain advices were sent him of whatever was transacted in the city, his remonstrances were considered as an effect of the timidity and slowness with which he had always been reproached. Such, said they, are his usual protractions, delays, distrusts, and fearful precaution, whereby he has deadened all the vivacity, and extinguished all the ardour of the troops, in not marching them immediately against the enemy; but, on the contrary, by deferring to attack them till his own forces were weakened and despised. This made the rest of the generals, and all the officers, come over to Demosthenes's opinion, and Nicias himself was at last forced to acquiesce in it.
Demosthenes, after having attacked to no purpose the wall which cut the contravallation of the besiegers, confined himself to the attack of Epipolae, from a supposition, that should he once be master of it, the wall would be quite undefended. He, therefore, took provisions for five days, with workmen, implements, and every thing necessary for him to defend that post after he should possess himself of it. As there was no going up to it in the day-time undiscovered, he marched thither in the night with all his forces, followed by Eurymedon and Menander; Nicias staying behind to guard the camp. They went up by the way of Euryelus, as before, unperceived by the centinels, attacked the first intrenchment, and stormed it, after killing part of those who defended it. Demosthenes, not satisfied with this advantage, to prevent the ardour of his soldiers from cooling, and not delay the execution of his design, marches forward. During this interval, the forces of the city, sustained by Gylippus, marched under arms out of the intrenchments. Being seized with astonishment, which the darkness of the night increased, they were immediately repulsed and put to flight. But, as the Athenians advanced in disorder, to force whatever might resist their arms, lest the enemy might rally again, should time be allowed them to breathe and recover from their surprize, they are stopped on a sudden by the Boeotians, who make a vigorous stand, and marching against the Athenians with their pikes presented, they repulse them with great shouts, and make a dreadful slaughter. This spreads an universal terror through the rest of the army. Those who fled, either force along such as were advancing to their assistance, or else mistaking them for enemies, turn their arms against them. They now were all mixed indiscriminately, it being impossible to discover objects in the horrors of a night, which was not so gloomy as entirely to make objects imperceptible, nor yet light enough to distinguish those which were seen. The Athenians sought for one another to no purpose, and from their often asking the word, by which only they were able to know one another, a strange confusion of sounds was heard, which occasion no little disorder, not to mention that they by this means divulged the word to the enemy, and could not learn theirs; because, by their being together, and in a body, they had no occasion to repeat it. In the mean time, those who were pursued threw themselves from the top of the rocks, and many were dashed to pieces by the fall; and as most of those who escaped straggled from one another up and down the fields and woods, they were cut to pieces the next day by the enemy's horse who pursued them. Two thousand Athenians were slain in this engagement, and a great number of arms were taken, those who fled having thrown them away, that they might be the better able to escape over the precipices. Soon after Gylippus having made the tour of Sicily, brought a great number of troops with him, which rendered the affairs of Athens still more desperate, and deprived Nicias of all hopes of success; besides, the Athenian army now began to diminish exceedingly by sickness, and nothing seen to remain but their quitting an island in which they had experienced every mortification. Nicias no longer opposed the resolution, and only desired to have it kept secret. Orders were, therefore, given as privately as possible, for the fleet to prepare for setting sail with the utmost expedition.
When all things were ready, the moment they were going to set sail, (wholly unsuspected by the enemy, who were far from surmising they would leave Sicily so soon) the moon was suddenly eclipsed in the middle of the night, and lost all its splendour, which terrified Nicias and the whole army, who from ignorance and superstition, were astonished at so sudden a change, the causes of which they did not know, and therefore dreaded the consequences of it. They then consulted the soothsayers, who being equally unacquainted with the reasons of this phaemonenon, only augmented their consternation. It was the custom, after such accidents had happened, to suspend their enterprize but for three days. The soothsayers pronounced, that he must not set sail till three times nine days were past, (these were Thucydides' words) which doubtless was a mysterious number in the opinion of the people. Nicias, scrupulous to a fault, and full of a mistaken veneration for these blind interpreters of the will of the gods, declared that he would wait a whole revolution of the moon, and not return till the same day of the next month, as if he had not seen the planet very clearly, the instant it had emerged from that part which was darkened by the interposition of the earth's body.
But he was not allowed time for this. The news of the intended departure of the Athenians soon spread over the city; a resolution was taken to attack the besiegers both by sea and land. The Syracusans began the first day by attacking the intrenchments, and gained a slight advantage over the enemy. On the morrow they made a second attack, and, at the same time, sailed with seventy-six gallies against eighty-six of the Athenian. Eumyredon, who commanded the right of the Athenian fleet, having spread along the shore to surround them, this movement proved fatal to him; for, as he was detached from the body of the fleet, the Syracusans, after forcing the main battle, which was in the center, attacked him, drove him vigorously into the gulf called Dascon, and there defeated him entirely. Eumyredon lost his life in the engagement. They afterwards gave chace to the rest of the gallies, and run them against the shore. Gylippus, who commanded the land army, seeing the Athenian gallies were forced a-ground, and not able to return into the staccado, landed with part of his troops, in order to charge the soldiers, in case they should be forced to run ashore, and give his friends the more room to tow such gallies as they should have taken; however, he was repulsed by the Tyrrhenians, who were posted on that side, and obliged by the Athenians, who flew to sustain them, to retire with some loss as far as a moor which lay near it. The latter saved most of their ships, eighteen excepted, which were taken by the Syracusans, and their crews cut to pieces by them. After this, resolving to burn the rest, they filled an old vessel with combustible materials, and having set fire to it, they drove it by the help of the wind against the Athenians, who nevertheless extinguished the fire, and drove off that ship; each side erected trophies, the Syracusans for the death of Eurymedon, and the advantage they had gained the day before, and the Athenians for their having driven part of the enemy into the moor, and put the other part to flight. But the minds of the two nations were very differently disposed; the Syracusans, who had been thrown into the utmost consternation at the arrival of Demosthenes with his fleet, seeing themselves victorious in a naval engagement, resumed fresh hope, and assured themselves of a complete victory over their enemies. The Athenians, on the contrary, frustrated of their only resource, and overcome at sea, so contrary to their expectations, entirely lost courage, and had no thoughts but of retiring.
The enemy, to deprive them of all resource, and prevent their escaping, shut the mouth of the great harbour, which was about five hundred paces wide, with gallies placed cross-wise, and other vessels fixed with anchors and iron chains, and, at the same time, made the requisite preparations for a battle, in case they should have courage to engage again. When the Athenians saw themselves thus hemmed in, the generals and principal officers assembled, in order to deliberate on the present state of affairs. They were in absolute want of provisions, which was owing to their having forbid the people of Catana to bring any, from the hopes they entertained of their being able to retire, and they could not procure any from other places unless they were masters of the sea; this made them resolve to venture a sea fight. In this view they were determined to leave their old camp and their walls, and to entrench themselves on the shore near their ships, in the smallest compass possible; their design was to leave some forces in that place to guard their baggage and the sick, and to fight with the rest aboard all the ships they should have saved. They intended to retire into Catana in case they should be victorious, otherwise to set fire to their ships, and to march by land to the nearest city belonging to their allies.
This resolution being taken, Nicias immediately filled an hundred and ten gallies (the others having lost their oars) with the flower of his infantry, and drew up the rest of the forces, particularly the bowmen, in order of battle on the shore. As the Athenians dreaded very much the beaks of the Syracusan gallies, Nicias had provided harping-irons to grapple them, in order to break the force of the blow, and to come immediately to close fight as on shore. But the enemy perceiving this, covered the prows and upper part of their gallies with leather, to prevent their being so easily laid hold of. The commanders on both sides had employed all their rhetoric to animate their men, and none could ever have been prompted with stronger motives, for the battle which was going to be fought was to determine not only their lives and liberties, but also the fate of their country.
This battle was very obstinate and bloody. The Athenians being arrived at the mouth of the port, easily took those ships which defended the entrance of it, but when they attempted to break the chain of the rest to widen the passage, the enemy came up from all quarters. As near two hundred gallies came rushing on each side in a narrow place, there must necessarily be a very great confusion, and the vessels could not easily advance forward, or retire, or turn about to renew the attack. The beaks of the gallies for this reason did very little execution, but there were very furious and frequent discharges. The Athenians were overwhelmed with a shower of stones, which always did execution from what place soever they were thrown, whereas they defended themselves by only shooting darts and arrows, which by the motion of the ships, from the agitation of the sea, did not carry true, and by that means the greatest part of them did little execution. Ariston, the pilot, had given the Syracusans this counsel. These discharges being over, the soldiers heavily armed attempted to enter the enemies ships, in order to fight hand to hand, and it often happened that whilst they were climbing up one side, their own ships were entered on the other, and two or three ships were grappled to one, which occasioned a great perplexity and confusion. Farther, the noise of the ships that dashed one against the other, the different cries of the victors and vanquished, prevented the orders of the officers from being heard. The Athenians wanted to force a passage, whatever might be the consequence, to secure their return into their own country, and this the enemy employed their utmost efforts to prevent, in order that they might gain a more complete and more glorious victory. The two land-armies, which were drawn up on the highest part of the shore, and the inhabitants of the city who were there,
an to the walls, whilst the rest kneeling in
he temples were imploring heaven to give success to their fellow-citizens, all these saw clear, because of their little distance from the fleets every thing that passed, and contemplated the battle as from an amphitheatre, but not without great anxiety and terror. Attentive to, and shuddering at every movement, and the several changes which happened, they discovered the concern they had in the battle, their fears, their hopes, their grief, their joy, by different cries and different gestures, stretching out their hands sometimes towards the combatants to animate them, at other times towards heaven, to implore the succour and protection of the gods. At last the Athenian fleet, after sustaining a long battle, and a vigorous resistance, was put to flight, and drove against the shore. The Syracusans, who were spectators of this victory, conveyed the news to the whole city by an universal shout. The victors, now masters of the sea, and sailing with a favourable wind towards Syracuse, erected a trophy, whilst the Athenians, who were quite dejected and overpowered, did not so much as request that their dead soldiers might be delivered to them, in order to pay the last sad duty to their remains.
There now remained but two methods for them to chuse, either to attempt the passage a second time, for which they had ships and soldiers sufficient, or to abandon their fleet to the enemy and retire by land. Demosthenes proposed the former, but the sailors, in the deepest affliction, refused to obey, fully persuaded that it would be impossible for them to sustain a second engagement. The second method was, therefore, resolved upon, and accordingly they prepared to set out in the night, to conceal the march of their army from the enemy.
But Hermocrates, who suspected their design, was very sensible that it was of the utmost importance not to suffer so great a body of forces to escape, since they otherwise might sortify themselves in some corner of the island, and renew the war. The Syracusans were at that time in the midst of their festivity and rejoicings, and meditating nothing but how they might divert themselves after the toils they had sustained in fight. They were then solemnizing the festival of Hercules. To desire the Syracusans to take up arms again in order to pursue the enemy, and to attempt to draw them from their diversions, either by force or persuasion, would have been to no purpose, for which reason, another expedient was employed. Hermocrates sent out a few horsemen, who were to pass for friends of the Athenians, and ordered them to cry aloud, Tell Nicias not to retire till day light, for the Syracusans lye in ambush for him, and have seized on their passes. This false advice stopped Nicias at once, and he did not even set out the next day, in order that the soldiers might have more time to prepare for their departure, and carry off whatever might be necessary for their subsistence, and abandon the rest.
The enemy had time enough for seizing the avenues. The next morning early they possessed themselves of the most difficult passes, fortified those places where the rivers were fordable, broke down the bridges, and spread detachments of horse up and down the plain, so that there was not one place which the Athenians could pass without fighting. They set out upon their march the third day after the battle, with design to retire to Catana. The whole army was in an inexpressible consternation, to see such a great number of men either dead, or dying, some of whom were left exposed to wild beasts, and the rest to the cruelty of the enemy. Those who were sick and wounded conjured them with tears, to take them along with the army, and held by their cloaths when they were going, or else crawling after them, followed them as far as their strength would permit; and, when this failed, had recourse to tears, sighs, imprecations, and sending up toward heaven plaintive and dying groans; they called upon the gods, as well as men, to avenge their cruelty, whilst every place echoed with lamentations.
The whole army was in a deplorable condition. All the Athenians were seized with the deepest melancholy. They were inwardly tortured with rage and anguish, when they represented to themselves the greatness from which they were fallen, the extreme misery to which they were reduced, and the still greater evils from which they foresaw it would be impossible for them to escape. They could not bear the comparison for ever present in their thoughts, of the triumphant state in which they had left Athens, in the midst of the good wishes and acclamations of the people, with the ignominy of their retreat, aggravated by the cries and imprecations of their relations and fellow-citizens.
But the most melancholy part of the spectacle, and that which most deserved compassion, was Nicias, dejected and worn out by a tedious illness, deprived of the most necessary stores at a time when his age and infirmities required them most, pierced not only with his private grief, but with that of others, all which preyed upon his heart. However, this great man, superior to all his evils, thought of nothing but how he might best comfort his soldiers, and revive their courage. He ran up and down in all places, crying aloud, that their situation was not yet desperate, and that other armies had escaped from greater dangers; that they ought not to accuse themselves, or grieve too immoderately for misfortunes which they had not occasioned; that if they had offended some god, his vengeance must be satiated by this time; that fortune, after having so long favoured the enemy, would at last be tired of persecuting them; that their bravery and their numbers made them still formidable, (being still near forty thousand strong) that no city in Sicily would be able to withstand them, nor prevent their settling wherever they might think proper; that they had no more to do but to take care severally of themselves, and march in good order; that by a prudent and courageous retreat, which was now become their only resource, they would not only save themselves, but also their country, and enable it to recover its former grandeur.
The army marched in two bodies, both drawn up in the form of a phalanx, the first being commanded by Nicias, and the second by Demosthenes, with the baggage in the center. Being come to the river Anapis, they forced their passage, and afterwards were charged by all the enemy's cavalry, as well as archers, who discharged perpetually upon them. They were annoyed in this manner during several days march, every one of the passes being guarded, and the Athenians being obliged to dispute every inch of their way. The enemy did not care to hazard a battle against an army which despair alone might render invincible; and the instant the Athenians presented the Syracusans battle, the latter retired; but whenever the former proceeded in their march, they advanced and charged them in their retreat.
Demosthenes and Nicias seeing the miserable condition to which the troops were reduced, being in extreme want of provisions, and great numbers of them wounded, judged it adviseable to retire towards the sea by a quite contrary way from that in which they then marched, and to make directly for Camarina and Gela, instead of proceeding to Catana as they first intended. They set out in the night after lighting a great number of fires. The retreat was made in great confusion and disorder, as generally happens to great armies in the gloomy horrors of the night, especially when the enemy is not far off. However, the van-guard commanded by Nicias, went forward in good order, but above half the rear-guard, with Demosthenes at their head, quitted from the main body, and lost their way. On the next day the Syracusans, who on the report of their retreat, had marched with the utmost diligence, came up with him about noon, and having surrounded him with their horse, drove him into a narrow place inclosed with a wall, where his soldiers fought like lions. Perceiving at the close of the day that they were oppressed with fatigue, and covered with wounds, the conquering Syracusans gave the islanders leave to retire, which some of them accepted, and they afterwards spared the lives of the rest who surrendered at discretion, with Demosthenes, after having stipulated that they should not be put to death, nor sentenced to perpetual imprisonment. About six thousand soldiers surrendered on these conditions.
Nicias arrived the same evening at the river Erineus, and passing it, encamped on a mountain, where the enemy came up with him the next day, and summoned him to surrender at discretion as Demosthenes had done. Nicias could not persuade himself at first that what they told him concerning Demosthenes was true; and, therefore, desired leave to send some horse for information. Upon their returning with the news that Demosthenes had really surrendered in that manner, Nicias offered to pay the expences of the war, upon condition they would permit him to leave the country with his forces, and to give as many Athenians for hostages as they should be obliged to pay talents. But the enemy rejected this proposal with disdain and insolence, and renewed the attack. Nicias, though in absolute want of all things, however sustained the charge the whole night, and marched towards the river Asinarus. When they were got to the banks of it, the Syracusans advancing up to them, threw most of them into the stream, the rest already having plunged voluntarily into it to quench their thirst. Here the greatest and most bloody havock was made, the poor wretches being butchered without the least pity as they were drinking. Nicias finding all lost, and unable to bear this dismal spectacle, surrendered at discretion, upon condition that Gylippus should discontinue the fight, and spare the rest of his army. A great number were killed, and more taken prisoners, so that all Sicily was filled with them. The Athenians seemed to have been displeased with their general for surrendering in this manner at discretion; and, for this reason, his name was omitted in a public monument, on which was engraved the names of those commanders who had lost their lives in fighting for their country.
The victors, adorned with the arms taken from the prisoners, the finest and largest trees they could find on the banks of the rivers, and made a kind of trophies of those trees, when crowning themselves with chaplets of flowers, dressing their horses in the richest caparisons, and cropping those of their enemies, they entered triumphantly into Syracuse, after having happily terminated the most considerable war in which they had ever been engaged with the Greeks, and won by their strength and valour a most signal and most complete victory.
The next day a council was held to deliberate on what was to be done with the prisoners. Diocles, one of the leaders of greatest authority among the people, proposed that all the Athenians who were born of free parents, and all such Sicilians as had joined with them, should be imprisoned, and only two measures of flour and one of water given them daily; that the slaves and all the allies should be publicly sold, and that the two Athenian generals should be first scourged with rods, and afterwards put to death.
This last article was exceedingly disliked by all wise and compassionate Syracusans. Hermocrates, who was very famous for his probity and justice, attempted to make some remonstrances to the people, but they would not hear him, and the shouts which echoed on all sides prevented him from continuing his speech. At that instant an ancient man, venerable for his great age and gravity, who in this war had lost two sons, the only heirs to his name and estate, made his servants carry him to the tribunal for harrangues, and the instant he appeared a profound silence was made.
"You here behold, says he, an unfortunate father who has felt more than any other Syracusan the fatal effects of this war, by the death of two sons who formed all the consolation, and were the only supports of my old age. I cannot, indeed, forbear admiring their courage and felicity, in sacrificing to their country's welfare a life of which they would one day have been deprived by the common course of nature: but then I cannot but be strongly affected with the cruel wound which their death has made in my heart, nor forbear hating and detesting the Athenians, the authors of this unhappy war, as the murtherers of my children; but, however, I cannot conceal one circumstance, which is, that I am less sensible of my private affliction than of the honour of my country, and I see it exposed to eternal infamy by the barbarous advice which is now given you. The Athenians indeed merit the worst treatment, and every kind of punishment that can be inflicted on them for so unjustly declaring war against us, but have not the gods, the just avengers of crimes, punished them, and revenged us sufficiently. When their general laid down his arms and surrendered, did he not do this in the hopes of having their lives spared, and if we put them to death, will it be possible for us to avoid the just reproach of our having violated the laws of nations, and dishonoured our victory by an unheard-of cruelty? How will you suffer your glory to be thus sullied in the face of the whole world, and have it said, that a nation who first dedicated a temple in this city to Clemency had not found any in yours? Surely victories and triumphs do not give immortal glory to a city; but the exercising mercy towards a vanquished enemy, the using moderation in the greatest prosperity, and fearing to offend the gods by a haughty and insolent pride, will ever insure it. You doubtless have not forgot that this Nicias, whose fate you are going to pronounce, was the very man who pleaded your cause in the assembly of the Athenians, and employed all his credit, and the whole power of his eloquence to dissuade his country from embarking in this war; should you, therefore, pronounce sentence of death on this worthy general, would it be a just reward for the zeal he showed for your interest? With regard to myself, death would be less grievous to me than the sight of so horrid an injustice committed by my countrymen and fellow-citizens."
The people seemed moved with compassion at this speech, especially when this venerable old man first ascended, they expected to hear him cry aloud for vengeance on those who had brought all his calamities upon him, instead of suing for their pardon. But the enemies of the Athenians having expatiated with vehemence on the unheard of cruelties which their republic had exercised on several cities belonging to their enemies, and even to their ancient allies; the inveteracy which the commanders had shewn against Syracuse, and the evils they would have made it suffer had they been victorious, the afflictions and groans of infinite numbers of Syracusans who bewailed the death of their children and near relations, whose manes could be appeased no other way than by the blood of their murderers. These representations prevailed, and the people returned to their sanguinary resolution, and followed Diocles's advice in every respect. Gylippus used his utmost endeavours, but in vain, to have Nicias and Demosthenes given up to him, (especially as he had taken them) in order for him to carry them to Lacedaemon; but his demand was rejected with a haughty scorn, and the two generals were put to death.
All wise and compassionate men could not forbear shedding tears at the tragical fate of two such illustrious personages, and particularly for Nicias, who, of all men of his time, seemed least to merit so ignominious and untimely an end. When people recollect the speeches and remonstrances he had made to prevent this war; and, on the other side, when they considered how high a regard he had always retained for things relating to religion, the greatest part of them were tempted to exclaim against providence, in seeing that a man, who had ever shown the highest reverence for the gods, and had always exerted himself to the utmost for their honour and worship, should be so ill rewarded by them, and meet with no better fate than the most abandoned wretches.
The prisoners were shut up in the prisons of Syracuse, where, crouded one upon the other, they suffered incredible torment for eight months. Here they were for ever exposed to the inclemencies of the weather, scorched in the day-time by the burning rays of the sun, or frozen in the night by the colds of autumn; poisoned by the stench of their own excrement, by the carcasses of those who died of their wounds and of sickness, and worn out by hunger and thirst, for the daily allowance to each was but a small measure of water and two of meal. Those who were taken out of this place two months after, in order to be sold as slaves, many of whom were citizens who had concealed their condition, found a less rigorous fate. Their wisdom, their patience, and a certain air of probity and modesty were of great advantage to them, for they were soon restored to their liberty, or met with the kindest and most generous treatment from their masters. Several of them even owed the good usage they met with to Eurypides, the finest scenes of whose tragedies they repeated to the Sicilians, who were extremely fond of them; so that when they returned to their own country, they went and saluted that poet as their deliverer, and informed him of the admirable effects wrought in their favour by his verses.
The news of the defeat being carried to Athens, the citizens would not believe it at first, and were so far from giving credit to the report, that they sentenced that man to death who first published the tidings; but when it was confirmed, all the Athenians were seized with the utmost consternation; and, as if themselves had not decreed the war, they vented their rage and resentment against the orators who had promoted the enterprize, as well as against the soothsayers, who by their supposed prodigies, had flattered them with the hopes of success. They had never been reduced to so deplorable a condition as now, having neither horse, foot, money, gallies, nor mariners; in a word, they were in the deepest despair, expecting every moment that the enemy, elate with so great a victory, and strengthened by the revolt of the allies, would come and invade Athens both by sea and land with all the forces of Peloponnesus. Cicero had reason to observe, speaking of the battles in the harbour of Syracuse, that it was there the troops of Athens, as well as their gallies, were ruined and sunk, and that in this harbour the power and glory of the Athenians were miserably shipwrecked.
The Athenians, however, did not suffer themselves to be wholly dejected, but resumed courage. They now resolved to raise money on all sides, and to import timber for building ships, in order to awe the allies, and particularly the inhabitants of the island of Euboea. They retrenched all superfluous expences, and established a new council of ancient men who were to weigh and examine all affairs before they should be proposed to the people. In fine, they omitted nothing which might be of service in the present conjuncture, the alarm in which they were in, and their common danger, obliging every individual to be attentive to the necessities of the state, and sedulous to all advice that might promote its interests.
Such was the event of the siege of Syracuse, the failure of which destroyed the power of those that had undertaken it. We have hitherto seen Athens rising in arts and arms, giving lessons both in politeness, humanity, philosophy,
and war, to all the nations round, and beginning to fix an empire, which, if once established, no neighbouring power could overthrow. But their ambition grew faster than their abilities, and their views extending beyond their capacity to execute, they fell at once from that height to which for ages they had been assiduously aspiring. We are now, therefore, to be presented with a different picture, we are no longer to view this little state panting for conquests over other nations, but timorously defending itself at home; we are no longer to view Athens taking the lead in the councils, and conducting the confederated armies of Greece; they now become in a measure annihilated, they fade from the eye of the historian; and other nations, whose names have hitherto been scarcely mentioned, emerge from obscurity. The rashness of this enterprize was severely punished in the loss of their best generals, fleets, and armies; all now was destroyed, or left at the mercy of those whom they had so unseasonably undertaken to subdue.
Their allies began now to think of throwing off their yoke; and even those who had stood neuter took this occasion to declare against them. But the Lacedaemonians being more particularly elevated, resolved to prosecute the war with vigour, and the winter was spent in preparations on both sides. The Athenians, in their present distress, scarce knew where to turn; many of their allied cities revolted, and it was with the utmost difficulty, that by placing their forces and fleets at Samos, they reduced such states as had abandoned them to their former obedience, and kept the rest in their duty: thus still struggling with a part of their former spirit, they kept themselves in a condition to make head against their enemies, over whom they had obtained several advantages.
Alcibiades, who was well informed of all that passed among the Athenians, sent secretly to the principal of them at Samos to sound their sentiments, and to let them know that he was not averse to returning to Athens, provided the administration of the republic were put into the hands of the great and powerful, and not left to the populace, who had expelled him. Some of the principal officers went from Samos with a design to concert with him the proper measures for the success of that undertaking. He promised to procure the Athenians not only the favour of the king of Persia, with whom he had taken refuge, but of the king himself, upon condition they would abolish the democracy, or popular government; because the king would place more confidence in the engagements of the nobility than upon those of the inconstant and capricious multitude. The chief man who opposed his return was Phrynicus, one of the generals, who, to compass his designs, sent word to Astyochus, the Lacedaemomian general, that Alcibiades was treating with
issaphernes, to bring him over to the Athenian interest. He offered farther, to betray to him the whole army and navy of the Athenians. But his treasonable practices being all detected by the good understanding betwixt Alcibiades and Astyochus, he was laid aside, and afterwards stabbed in the market-place.
In the mean time, the Athenians went eagerly forward to complete that change of government which had been proposed to them by Alcibiades; the democracy began to be abolished in several cities of Athens, and soon after the scheme was carried boldly forward by Pysander, who was chiefly concerned in this transaction. To give a new form to this government, he caused ten commissaries, with absolute power, to be appointed, who were, however, at a certain fixed time, to give the people an account of what they had done. At the expiration of that term, the general assembly was summoned, wherein their first resolution was, that every one should be admitted to make such proposals as he thought fit, without being liable to any accusation for infringing the law, or consequential penalty. It was afterwards decreed, that a new council should be formed, with full power to administer the public affairs, and to elect new magistrates. For this purpose, five presidents were established, who nominated one hundred persons, including themselves. Each of these chose and associated three more at his own pleasure, which made in all four hundred, in whom an absolute power was lodged. But to amuse the people, and to console them with a shadow of popular government, whilst they instituted a real oligarchy, it was said that the four hundred should call a council of five thousand citizens to assist them when they should judge it necessary. The council and assemblies of the people were held as usual, nothing was done, however, but by order of the four hundred. The people of Athens were deprived in this manner of their liberty, which they had enjoyed almost an hundred years, after having abolished the tyranny of the Pisistratides.
This decree being passed without opposition, after the separation of the assembly the four hundred, armed with daggers, and attended by an hundred and twenty young men, whom they made use of when any execution required it, entered the senate, and compelled the senators to retire, after having paid them the arrears due upon their appointments. They elected new magistrates out of their own body, observing the usual ceremonies upon such occasions. They did not think proper to recall those who were banished, lest they should authorize the return of Alcibiades, whose uncontroulable spirit they apprehended, and who would soon have made himself master of the people. Abusing their power in a tyrannical manner, they put some to death, others they banished, and confiscated their estates with impunity. All who ventured to oppose this change, or even to complain of it, were butchered upon false pretexts, and those were intimidated who demanded justice of the murderers. The four hundred, soon after their establishment, sent ten deputies to Samos for the army's concurrence to their establishment.
The army, in the mean time, which was at Samos, protested against those proceedings in the city; and, at the persuasion of Thrasybulus, recalled Alcibiades, and created him general, with full power to sail directly to the Pyraeus and crush this new tyranny. Alcibiades, however, would not give way to this rash opinion, but went first to shew himself to Tissaphernes, and let him know, that it was now in his power to treat him as a friend or an enemy. By which means he awed the Athenians with Tissaphernes, and Tissaphernes with the Athenians. When, afterwards, the four hundred sent to Samos to vindicate their proceedings, the army was for putting the messengers to death, and persisted in the design upon the Pyraeus, but Alcibiades, by opposing it, manifestly saved the commonwealth.
In the mean while, the innovation in Athens had occasioned such factions and tumults, that the four hundred were more intent upon providing for their safety than prosecuting the war. In order to which, they fortisied that part of the Pyraeus which commands the mouth of the haven, and resolved, in case of extremity, rather to let in the Lacedaemonians than expose their persons to the fury of their fellow-citizens. The Spartans took occasion from these disturbances, to hover about with forty-two gallies under the conduct of Hegesandrides; and the Athenians, with thirty-six under Timochares, were forced to engage them, but lost part of their fleet, and the rest were dispersed. To add to which, all Euboea, except Oreus, revolted to the Peloponnesians.
This failure of success served to give the finishing blow to the power of the four hundred. The Athenians without delay deposed them as the authors of all their troubles and divisions under which they groaned. Alcibiades was recalled by unanimous consent, and earnestly sollicited to make all possible haste to the assistance of the city. But judging that if he returned immediately to Athens, he should owe his recall to the compassion and favour of the people, he resolved to render his return glorious and triumphant, and to deserve it by some considerable exploit. For this purpose, leaving Samos with a small number of ships, he cruised about the island of Cos and Cnidos, and having learnt that Mindarus, the Spartan admiral, was sailed to the Hellespont with his whole fleet, and that the Athenians were in pursuit of him, he steered that way with the utmost diligence to support them, and arrived happily with his eighteen vessels at the time the fleets were engaged near Abydos, in a battle which lasted till night, without any advantage on either side. His arrival gave the Spartans new courage at first, who believed him still their friend, and dispirited the Athenians. But Alcibiades hanging out the Athenian flag in the admiral's galley, fell upon them and put them to flight; and animated by his success, sunk their vessels, and made a great slaughter of their soldiers who had thrown themselves into the sea to save themselves by swimming. The Athenians, after having taken thirty of their gallies, and retaken those they had lost, erected a trophy.
Alcibiades after this victory went to visit Tissaphernes, who was so far from receiving him as he expected, that he immediately caused him to be seized, and sent away prisoner to Sardis, telling him he had orders from the king to make war upon the Athenians; but the truth is, he was afraid of being accused to his master by the Peloponnesians, and thought, by this act of injustice, to purge himself from all former imputations. Alcibiades, after thirty days, made his escape to Clazomenae, and soon after bore down upon the Peloponnesian fleet, which rode at anchor before the port of Cyzicus. With twenty of his best ships he broke through the enemy, pursued those who abandoned their ships and fled to land, and made a great slaughter. The Athenians took all the enemies ships, made themselves masters of Cyzicus, while Mingimis, the Lacedaemonian general, was found among the number of the slain.
Alcibiades well knew how to make use of the victory he had gained; and, at the head of his conquering forces, took several cities which had revolted from the Athenians. Calcedon, Salymbria, and Byzantium, were among the number. Thus slushed with conquest, he seemed to desire nothing so ardently as to be once more seen by his countrymen, as his presence would be a triumph to his friends, and an insult to his enemies. Accordingly, being recalled, he set sail for Athens. Besides the ships covered with bucklers and spoils of all sorts in the manner of trophies, a great number of vessels also were towed after him by way of triumph; he displayed also the ensigns and ornaments of those he had burnt, which were more than the others, the whole amounting to about two hundred ships. It is said, that reflecting on what had been done against him, upon approaching the port, he was struck with some terror, and was afraid to quit his vessel till he saw from the deck a great number of his friends and relations who were come to the shore to receive him, and earnestly entreated him to land. As soon as he was landed, the multitude who came out to meet him, fixed their eyes on him, thronged about him, saluted him with loud acclamations, and crowned him with garlands; he received their congratulations with great satisfaction; he desired to be discharged from his former condemnation, and obtained from the priests an absolution from all their former denunciations.
Yet, notwithstanding these triumphs, the real power of Athens was now no more, the strength of the state was gone, and even the passion for liberty was lost in the common degeneracy of the times; many of the meaner sort of people passionately desired that Alcibiades would take the sovereignty upon him, they even desired him to set himself above the reach of envy, by securing all power in his own person; the great, however, were not so sanguine in their gratitude, they were content with appointing him generalissimo of all their forces; they granted him whatever he demanded, and gave him for colleagues the generals most agreeable to him. He set sail accordingly, with an hundred ships, and steered for the island of Andros that had revolted, where, having defeated the inhabitants, he went from thence to Samos, intending to make that the seat of the war. In the mean time, the Lacedaemonians, justly alarmed at his success, made choice of a general supposed to be capable of making head against him; for this reason, they fixed upon Lysander, who, though born of the highest family, had been bred up to hardships, and paid an entire respect to the discipline and manners of his country. He was brave and aspiring, and, like his countrymen, sacrificed all sorts of pleasure to his ambition. He had an evenness and sedateness of temper which made all conditions of life sit easy upon him, but withal was extremely insinuating, crafty, and designing, and made his interest the only measure of truth and falshood. This deceitful temper was observed to run through the whole course of his life; upon which occasion it was said, that he cheated children with foul play, and men with perjury: and it was a maxim of his own, that when the lion fails we must make use of the fox.
Lysander having brought his army to Ephesus, gave orders for assembling ships of burden from all parts, and erected an arsenal for building of gallies; he made the ports free for merchants, gave the public places to artificers, put all arts in motion, and, by these means, filled the city with riches, and laid the foundation of that magnificence which he afterwards obtained. Whilst he was making these dispositions, he received advice that Cyrus, the Persian prince, was arrived at Sardis, he, therefore, set out from Ephesus to make him a visit, and to complain of Tissaphernes, whose duplicity and treachery had been fatal to their common cause. Cyrus, who had a personal enmity to that general, came into the views of Lysander, agreed to increase the seamens pay, and to give him all the assistance in his power.
This largess filled the whole fleet with ardour and alacrity, and almost unmanned the enemies gallies, the greatest part of the mariners deserting to the party where the pay was best. The Athenians, in despair, upon receiving this news, endeavoured to conciliate Cyrus by the interposition of Tissaphernes, but he would not hearken to them, notwithstanding the satrap represented, that it was not for the king's interest to aggrandize the Lacedaemonians, but to balance the power of one side with that of the other, in order to perpetuate the war, and to ruin both by their own divsions.
Alcibiades, on the other hand, having occasion to leave the fleet, in order to raise the supplies, gave the command of his fleet to Antiochus, with express command not to engage or attack the enemy in his absence. Antiochus, however, was willing to do some action that might procure him favour without a partner in the glory; he was so far, therefore, from observing the orders that were given him, that he presently sailed away for Ephesus; and, at the very mouth of the harbour, used every art to provoke the enemy to an engagement. Lysander at first manned out a few ships to repel his insults; but as the Athenian ships advanced to support Antiochus, other gallies belonging to the Lacedaemonians also came on, till both fleets arrived by little and little, and the engagement became general on both sides. Lysander at length was victorious; Antiochus was slain, and fifteen Athenian gallies were taken. It was in vain that Alcibiades soon after came up to the relief of his friends; it was in vain that he offered to renew the combat, Lysander, content with the victory he had gained, was unwilling again to trust to fortune.
The fickle multitude of Athens again, therefore, began to accuse Alcibiades of insufficiency. He who was just before respected even to adoration, was now discarded upon a groundless suspicion, that he had not done his duty. But it was the glory he had obtained by his past services that now ruined him; for his continual success had begot in the people such an opinion of him, that they thought it impossible for him to fail in any thing he undertook, and from thence his enemies took occasion to question his integrity, and to impute to him both his own and other miscarriages. Callicratidas was appointed to succeed Lysander, whose year was expired; alike severe to himself and others, inaccessible to flattery and sloth, the declared enemy of luxury, he retained the modesty, temperance, and austerity of the ancient Spartans, virtues that began to distinguish him particularly, as they were not too common in his time. His probity and justice were proof against all things; his simplicity and integrity abhorred all falshood and fraud, to which were joined a truly Spartan nobleness and grandeur of soul. The first attempt of the new admiral was against Methymna, in Lesbos, which he took by storm. He then threatened Conon, who was appointed general of the Athenians, that he would make him leave
debauching
the sea, and accordingly soon after pursued him into the port of Mytilene with an hundred and seventy sail, took thirty of his ships, and besieged him in the town, from which he cut off all provisions. He soon after took ten ships more out of twelve which were coming to his relief. Then hearing that the Athenians had fitted out their whole strength, consisting of an hundred and fifty sail; he left fifty of his ships, under Etonicus to carry on the siege of Mytilene, and with an hundred and twenty more met the Athenians at Arginusae, over against Lesbos. His pilot advised him to retreat, for that the enemy was superior in number. He told him that Sparta would be never the worse inhabited though he were slain. The fight was long and obstinate, until at last the ships of Callicratidas chargng through the enemy was sunk, and the rest fled. The Peloponnesians lost about seventy sail, and the Athenians twenty-five, with most of the men in them. The Athenian admirals, who had the joint command of the sleet, instead of being rewarded for so signal a victory, were made a barbarous instance of the power and ingratitude of their fellow-citizens. Upon a relation of the fight before the senate, it was alledged, they had suffered their men who were shipwrecked to be lost when they might have saved them; upon which, they were clapped in irons in order to answer it to the people. They urged in their defence, that they were pursuing the enemy; and, at the same time, gave orders about taking up the men to those whose business it more peculiarly was, particularly to Theramenes, who was now their accuser; but yet, that their orders could not be executed by reason of a violent storm which happened at that time. This seemed so reasonable and satisfactory, that several stood up and offered to bail them: but, in another assembly, the popular incendiaries demanded justice, and so awed the judges, that Socrates was the only man who had courage enough to declare, he would do nothing contrary to law, and accordingly refused to act. After a long debate, eight of the ten were condemned, and six of them were put to death, among whom was Pericles, son of the great Pericles. He declared, that they had failed in nothing of their duty, as they had given orders that the dead bodies should be taken up; that if any one were guilty, it was he, who being charged with these orders, had neglected to put them in execution, but that he accused nobody, and that the tempest which came on unexpectedly, at the very instant, was an unanswerable apology, and entirely discharged the accused from all guilt. He demanded that a whole day should be allowed them to make their defence, a favour not denied to the most criminal, and that they should be tried separately. He represented, that they were not in the least obliged to precipitate a sentence wherein the lives of the most Illustrious of the citizens were concerned; that it was in some measure attacking the gods, to make men responsible for the winds and weather; that they could not without the most flagrant ingratitude and injustice put the conquerors to death, to whom they ought to decree crowns and honours, or give up the defenders of their country to the rage of those who envied them; that if they did so, their unjust judgment would be followed by a sudden, but vain repentance, which would leave behind it the sharpest remorse, and cover them with eternal shame and infamy; among the number also was Diomedon, a person equally eminent for his valour and his probity, as he was carrying to execution, he demanded to be heard.
"Athenians, said he, I wish the sentence you have passed upon us may not prove the misfortune of the republic; but I have one favour to ask of you in behalf of my colleagues and myself, which is to acquit us before the gods of the vows we made to them for you and ourselves, as we are not in a condition to discharge them, for it is to their protection invoked before the battle, we acknowledge that we are indebted for the victory gained by us over the enemy."
There was not a good citizen that did not melt into tears at this discourse, so full of goodness and religion, and admire with surprize the moderation of a person, who seeing himself unjustly condemned, did not however vent the least resentment, or even complaint against his judges, but was solely intent (in favour of an ungrateful country which had doomed them to perish) upon what it owed to the gods in common with them for the victory they had lately obtained.
This complication of injustice and ingratitude seemed to give the finishing blow to the affairs of the Athenian state; they struggled for a while after their defeat at Syracuse, but from hence they were entirely sunk, though seemingly in the arms of victory.
The enemy after their last defeat had once more recourse to Lysander, who had so often led them to conquest; on him they placed their chief confidence, and ardently solicited his return. The Lacedaemonians, to gratify their allies, and yet to observe their laws, which forbad that honour being conferred twice on the same person, sent him with an inferior title, but with the power of admiral. Thus appointed, Lysander sailed towards the Hellespont, and laid siege to Lampsacus; the place was carried by storm, and abandoned by Lysander to the mercy of the soldiers. The Athenians, who followed him close, upon the news of his success steered forward towards Olestus, and from thence sailing along the coast, halted over-against the enemy at Aegos Potamos, a place fatal for the Athenians.
The Hellespont is not above two thousand paces broad in that place. The two armies seeing themselves so near each other, expected only to rest that day, and were in hopes of coming to a battle on the next. But Lysander had another design in view; he commanded the seamen and pilots to go on board their gallies, as if they were in reality to fight the next morning at break of day, to hold themselves in readiness, and to wait his orders in profound silence. He ordered the land army in like manner to draw up in battle upon the coast, and to wait the day without any noise. On the morning as soon as the sun was risen, the Athenians began to row towards them with their whole fleet in one line, and to bid them defiance. Lysander, though his ships were ranged in order of battle, with their heads towards the enemy, lay still without making any movement. In the evening when the Athenians withdrew, he did not suffer his soldiers to go ashore till two or three gallies which he had sent out to observe them, were returned with advice, that they had seen the enemy land. The next day passed in the same manner, as did the third and fourth. Such a conduct, which argued reserve and apprehension, extremely augmented the security and boldness of the Athenians, and inspired them with an high contempt for an army, which fear prevented from shewing themselves or attempting any thing.
Whilst this passed, Alcibiades, who was near the fleet, took horse and came to the Athenian generals, to whom he represented, that they kept upon a very disadvantageous coast, where there were neither ports nor cities in the neighbourhood; that they were obliged to bring their provisions from Sestos, with great danger and difficulty, and that they were very much in the wrong to suffer the soldiers and mariners of the fleet, as soon as they were ashore to straggle and disperse themselves at their pleasure, whilst the enemy's fleet faced them in view, accustomed to execute the orders of their general with instant obedience, and upon the slightest signal. He offered also to attack the enemy by land with a strong body of Thracian troops and to force them to a battle. The generals, especially Tydeus and Menander, jealous of their command, did not content themselves with refusing his offers, from the opinion, that if the event proved unfortunate, the whole blame would fall upon them, and if favourable, that Alcibiades would engross the honour of it, but rejected also with insult his wise and salutary counsel, as if a man in disgrace lost his sense and abilities with the favour of the commonwealth. Alcibiades withdrew.
The fifth day the Athenians presented themselves again, and offered him battle, retiring in the evening according to custom with more insulting airs than the days before. Lysander, as usual, detached some gallies to observe them, with orders to return with the utmost diligence when they saw the Athenians landed, and to put a brown buckler at each ship's head as soon as they reached the middle of the channel. Himself, in the mean time, ran through the whole line in his galley, exhorting the pilots and officers to hold the seamen and soldiers in readiness to row and fight on the first signal.
As soon as the bucklers were put up in the ship's heads, and the admiral's galley had given the signal by the sound of trumpet, the whole fleet set forwards in good order. The land army, at the same time, made all possible haste to the top of the promontory to see the battle. The streight that separates the two continents in this place is about fifteen stadia, or three quarters of a league in breadth, which space was presently cleared through the activity and diligence of the rowers. Conon, the Athenian general, was the first who perceived from shore the enemy's fleet advance in good order to attack him, upon which he immediately cried out for the troops to embark. In the height of sorrow and perplexity, some he called to by their names, some he conjured, and others he forced to go on board their gallies, but all his endeavours and emotion were ineffectual, the soldiers being dispersed on all sides. For they were no sooner come on shore than some were run to the suttlers, some to walk in the country, some to sleep in their tents, and others had began to dress their suppers. This proceeded from the want of vigilance and experience in their generals, who, not suspecting the least danger, indulged themselves in taking their repose, and gave their soldiers the same liberty.
The enemy had already fallen on with loud cries, and a great noise of their oars, when Conon disengaging himself with nine gallies, of which number was the sacred ship, he stood away for Cyprus, where he took refuge with Evagoras. The Peloponnesians falling upon the rest of the fleet, took immediately the gallies which were empty, and disabled and destroyed such as began to fill with men. The soldiers who ran without order or arms to their relief, were either killed in the endeavour to get on board, or flying on shore, were cut to pieces by the enemy, who landed in pursuit of them. Lysander took three thousand prisoners, with all the generals, and the whole fleet, after having plundered the camp, and fastened the enemy's gallies to the sterns of his own, he returned to Lampsacus amidst the sounds of flutes and songs of triumph. It was his glory to have atchieved one of the greatest military exploits recorded in history with little or no loss, and to have terminated a war in the small space of an hour which had already lasted seven and twenty years, and which, perhaps, without him had been of much longer continuance. Lysander immediately sent dispatches with this agreeable news to Sparta.
The three thousand prisoners taken in this battle having been condemned to die, Lysander called upon Philocles, one of the Athenian generals, who had caused all the prisoners taken in two gallies, the one of Andros, the other of Corinth, to be thrown from the top of a precipice, and had formerly persuaded the people of Athens to make a decree for cutting off the thumb of the right hand of all the prisoners of war, in order to disable them for handling the pike, and that they might be fit only to serve at the oar. Lysander, therefore, caused him to be brought forth, and asked him what sentence he would pass upon himself for having induced his city to pass that cruel decree. Philocles, without departing from his haughtiness in the least, notwithstanding the extreme danger he was in, made answer:
"Accuse not people of crimes who have no judges, but as you are victors, use your right, and do by us as we had done by you if we had conquered."
At the same instant he went into a bath, put on afterwards a magnificent robe, and marched foremost to the execution. All the prisoners were put to the sword except Adamantus, who had opposed the decree.
When the news of the entire defeat of the army came to Athens, by a ship which arrived in the night at the Piraeus, the city was in consternation. They naturally expected a siege; and, in fact, Lysander was preparing to besiege them. Nothing was heard but cries of sorrow and despair in every part of it. They imagined the enemy already at their gates; they represented to themselves the miseries of a long siege, a cruel famine, the ruin and burning of their city, the insolence of a proud victor, and the shameful slavery they were upon the point of experiencing, more afflicting and insupportable to them than the most severe punishments, and death itself. The next day the assembly was summoned, wherein it was resolved to shut up all the ports, one only excepted, to repair the breaches in the walls, and mount guard to prepare against a siege.
Their fears were soon confirmed by reality. Lysander finding numbers of Athenians dispersed in different cities, commanded them all on pain of death to take shelter in Athens. This he did with a design, so to croud the city as to be able soon to reduce it by famine. In effect, he soon after arrived at the port of Athens with an hundred and fifty sail. While Agis and Pausanias, the two kings of Sparta, advanced with their army to besiege it by land.
The wretched Athenians thus hemmed in on every side, without provisions, ships, or hopes of relief, prepared to meet the last extremity with patience; in this manner, without speaking the least word of a capitulation, and dying in the streets by numbers, they obstinately continued on the defensive; but, at length, their corn and provisions being entirely consumed, they found themselves compelled to send deputies to Agis, with offers of abandoning all their possessions, their city and port only excepted. The haughty Lacedaemonian referred their deputies to the state itself, and when the suppliant deputies had made known their commission to the ephori, they were ordered to retire, and to come with other proposals if they expected peace. At length, Theramenes, an Athenian, undertook to manage the treaty with Lysander; and, after three months of close conference, he received full powers to treat at Lacedaemon. When he, attended by nine others, arrived before the ephori, it was there strongly urged by some of the confederates, that Athens should be totally destroyed, without hearkening to any farther proposals. But the Lacedaemonians told them, they would not destroy a city which had so eminently rescued Greece in the most critical juncture, and consented to a peace upon these conditions: that the long walls and fortifications of the Piraeus should be demolished; that they should deliver up all their ships but twelve; that they should restore their exiles; that they should make a league offensive and defensive with the Lacedaemonians, and serve them in all their expeditions, both by sea and land. Theramenes being returned with the articles to Athens, was asked why he acted so contrary to the intentions of Themistocles, and gave those walls into the hands of the Lacedaemonians which he built in defiance of them? I have my eye, says he, upon Themistocles his design; he raised these walls for the preservation of the city, and I for the very same reason would have them destroyed; for, if walls only secure a city, Sparta, which has none, is in a very ill condition. The Athenians, at another time, would not have thought this a satisfactory answer, but being reduced to the last extremity, it did not admit of a long debate whether they should accept the treaty. At last, Lysander coming up the Piraeus, demolished the walls with great solemnity, and all the insulting triumphs of music. Thus a final period was put to this unhappy war, which had continued for seven and twenty years, in which heaps of treasure and deluge of blood were exhausted.
CHAP. IX. From the Demolition of the ATHENIAN Power to the Death of SOCRATES.
THE victory of Lysander was so terrible a shock to Athens, that it only survived to be sensible of the loss of its own power; however, the conquerors were so generous as not to extinguish the name; they said they would not be guilty of putting out one of the eyes of Greece: but they imposed some farther marks of conquest on them; they obliged the people to demolish the democracy, and submit to the government of thirty men, who were commonly known by the name of the thirty tyrants. Though the Greeks were apt enough to give that name to men of virtuous characters, these men, who were the creatures of Lysander, in every respect deserved the most opprobrious denomination; instead of compiling and publishing a more perfect body of laws, which was the pretence for their being chosen, they began to exert their power of life and death: and though they constituted a senate, and other magistrates, they made no farther use of them than to confirm their authority, and to see their commands executed. However, they at first acted cautiously, and condemned only the most detested and scandalous part of the citizens, such as lived by evidencing and informing; but this was only to give a colour to their proceedings; their design was to make themselves absolute, and knowing that was not to be done without a foreign power, their next step was to desire a guard might be sent them from Sparta, until such times as they could clear the city of all disaffected persons, and thoroughly settle the government. Lysander, accordingly, procured them a guard under the command of Callibius, who, by bribes and artifices, was wrought over to their designs, and then seen to act without controul, filling the city with the blood of those who, on account of their riches, interest, or good qualities, were most likely to make head against them.
One of the first acts of their cruelty was in procuring the death of Alcibiades, who had taken refuge in the dominions of Persia. This unfortunate general, still mindful of the debt he owed his country, employed his utmost attention in giving it the earliest notices of what could effect its freedom or its safety. Cyrus, the prince of Persia, having resolved to dethrone his brother Artaxerxes, entered into a treaty with the Lacedaemonians to assist him in his designs. Alcibiades did all that was in his power to obstruct the scheme; but the Lacedaemonian partisans at Athens, that is to say, the thirty tyrants, apprehended the intrigues of so superior a genius as his, and represented to their masters that they were inevitably ruined, if they did not find means to rid themselves of Alcibiades. The Lacedaemonians thereupon wrote to Pharnabasus, and with an abject meanness not to be excused, and which shewed how much Sparta had degenerated from her ancient manners, made pressing instances to him to deliver them at any rate from so formidable an enemy. This satrap complied with their wishes. Alcibiades was then in a small town of Phrygia, where he lived with his concubine Timandra. Those who were sent to kill him not daring to enter his house, contented themselves with surrounding and setting it on fire. Alcibiades having quitted it through the flames, sword in hand, the barbarians were afraid to stay to come to blows with him, but slying and retreating as he advanced, they poured their darts and arrows upon him from a distance, and he fell dead upon the spot. Timandra took up his body, and having adorned and covered it with the finest robes she had, she made as magnificent a funeral for it as her present condition would admit.
Such was the end of Alcibiades, whose great virtues were stifled and suppressed by still greater vices. It is not easy to say whether his good or bad qualities were most pernicious to his country, for with the one he deceived, and with the other he oppressed it. In him distinguished valour was united with nobility of blood. His person was beautiful and finely made; he was eloquent, of great ability in affairs, insinuating, and formed for charming all mankind. He loved glory, but without prejudice to his inclination sor pleasure, nor was he so fond of pleasure as to neglect his glory for it: he knew how to give into, or abstract himself from the allurements of luxury, according to the situation of his affaris. Never was there ductility of genius equal to his, he metamorphosed himself with incredible facility, into the most contrary forms, and supported them all with as much ease and grace as if each had been natural to him.
In this manner the thirty proceeded, and fearing to be opposed by the multitude, they invested three thousand citizens with some part of their power, and by their assistance preserved the rest. But thoroughly emblodened by such an accession to their party, they agreed to single out every one his man, to put them to death, and seize their estates for the maintenance of their gartison. Theramenes, one of their number, was the only man that was struck with horror at their proceedings; wherefore Critias, the principal author, thought it necessary to remove him, and accused him to the senate of endeavouring to subvert the state. Sentence of death was, therefore, passed upon him, and he was obliged to drink the juice of hemlock, the usual mode of execution at that time in Athens. Socrates, whose disciple he had been, was the only person of the senate who ventured to appear in his defence; he made an attempt to rescue him out of the hands of the officer of justice, and after his execution went about as it were in defiance of the thirty, exhorting and animating the senators and citizens against them.
The tyrants, delivered from a colleague whose presence alone was a continual reproach to them, no longer observed any measures. Nothing passed throughout the city but imprisonments and murders. Every body trembled for themselves or their friends. The general desolation had no remedy, nor was there any hope of regaining lost liberty.
All the citizens of any consideration in Athens, and who retained a love of freedom, quitted a place reduced to so hard and shameful a slavery, and sought elsewhere an asylum and retreat where they might live in safety. The Lacedaemonians had the inhumanity to endeavour to deprive those unhappy fugitives of this last resource. They published an edict to prohibit the cities of Greece from giving them refuge, decreed that they should be delivered up to the thirty tyrants, and condemned all such as should contravene the execution of this edict to pay a fine of five talents. Only two cities rejected with disdain so unjust an ordinance, Megara and Thebes, the latter of which made a decree to punish all persons whatsoever that should see an Athenian attacked by his enemies without doing his utmost to assist him. Lysias, an orator of Syracuse, who had been banished by the thirty, raised five hundred soldiers at his own expence, and sent them to the aid of the common country of eloquence.
Thrasybulus, a man of admirable character, who had long deplored the miseries of his country, was now the first to relieve it. At Thebes he fell into a consultation with his fellow-citizens, and the result was, that some vigorous effort, though it carried never so much danger, ought to be made for the benefit of public liberty. Accordingly, with a party of thirty men only, as Nepos says; but, as Xenophon more probably says, of near seventy, he seized upon Phyle, a strong castle on the frontiers of Attica. This enterprize gave the alarm to the tyrants, who immediately marched out of Athens with their three thousand followers, and their Spartan guard, and attempted the recovery of the place, but were repulsed with loss. Finding they could not carry it by a sudden assault, they resolved upon a siege, but not being sufficiently provided for that service, and a great snow falling that night, they were forced to retire the next day into the city, leaving only part of their guard to prevent any farther excursions into the country. Encouraged by this success, Thrasybulus no longer kept himself confined, but marched out of Phyle by night; and, at the head of a body of a thousand men, seized on the Pyraeus. The thirty flew thither with their troops, and a battle sufficiently warm ensued; but, as the soldiers on one side fought with valour and vigour for their liberty, and, on the other with, indolence and neglect for the power of their oppressors, the success was not doubtful, but followed the better cause: the tyrants were overthrown; Critias was killed upon the spot; and, as the rest of the army were taking to flight, Thrasybulus cried out,
"Wherefore do you fly from me as from a victor, rather than assist me as the avenger of your liberty? We are not enemies, but fellow-citizens, nor have we declared war against the city, but against the thirty tyrants."
He continued, with bidding them remember that they had the same origin, country, laws, and religion; he exhorted them to compassionate their exiled brethren, to restore to them their country, and resume their liberty themselves. This discourse had suitable effects. The army upon their return to Athens, expelled the thirty, and substituted ten persons to govern in their room, but whose conduct proved no better than that of those whom they succeeded.
Though the government was thus altered, and the thirty were deposed from power, they still had hopes of being reinstated in their former authority, and sent deputies to Lacedaemon to demand aid. Lysander was for granting it to them, but Pausanias, who then reigned in Sparta, moved with compassion at the deplorable condition of the Athenians, favoured them in secret, and obtained a peace for them; it was sealed with the blood of the tyrants, who having taken arms to reinstate themselves in government, were put to the sword, and Athens left in full possession of its liberty. Thrasybulus then proposed an amnesty, by which the citizens engaged upon oath that all past actions should be buried in oblivion, and the government was re-established in its ancient forms; their laws were restored to their past vigour, the magistrates elected with the usual ceremonies, and democracy was once more restored to this unfortunate people. Xenophon observes, that this intestine fury had consumed as many in eight months, as the Peloponnesian war had done in ten years.
Upon the re-establishment of affairs in Athens, the other states enjoyed the same tranquility, or rather kept in a quiet subjection to Sparta, which now held the undoubted sovereignty of Greece. But it being a maxim with the Spartans, that this sovereignty was not to be maintained but by a constant course of action; they were still seeking fresh occasions for war; and part of their forces, together with another body of Grecians, being at this time engaged in a quarrel between the Persian king and his brother, it will be necessary to pass over into Asia, and relate so much of the Persian affairs as concerns the expedition of Cyrus, wherein those forces were employed, especially since it is attended with circumstances which, if duly considered, will easily make it pass for one of the greatest actions of antiquity.
It has been already observed, that Cyrus, the son of Darius Nothus, saw with pain his elder brother Artaxerxes upon the throne, and more than once attempted to remove him. Artaxerxes was not insensible of what he had to fear from a brother of his enterprising and ambitious spirit, but could not refuse pardoning him on the prayers and tears of his mother Parysatis, who doated upon this youngest son. He removed him, therefore, into Asia to his government, confiding in him contrary to all the rules of policy, an absolute authority over the provinces left him by the will of the king his father. He was no sooner appointed in this manner, but he used all his arts with the barbarians and the Grecians to procure power and popularity, in order to dethrone his brother. Clearches retired to his court, after having been banished from Sparta, and was of great service to him, being an able, experienced, and valiant captain. At the same time, several cities in the provinces of Tissaphernes revolted from their obedience in favour of Cyrus. This incident, which was not an effect of chance, but of the secret practices of that prince, gave birth to a war between the two brothers. The emissaries of Cyrus at the court, were perpetually dispersing reports and opinions amongst the people to prepare their minds for the intended change and revolt. They talked that the state required a king of Cyrus's character, a king magnificent, liberal, who loved war, and showered his favours upon those that served him; and that it was necessary, for the grandeur of the empire, to have a prince upon the throne sired with ambition and valour, for the support and augmentation of his glory.
The troops of Cyrus, which were apparently levied for the business of the state, but in fact to overturn it, consisted of thirteen thousand Greeks, which were the flower and chief force of his army. Clearches, the Lacedaemonian, who commanded the Peloponnesian troops, was the only man of all the Greeks that was let into the Persian prince's design; he made it his sole application to gain the affections of his people during their marches, by treating them with humanity, conversing freely with them, and giving effectual orders that they should want for nothing. The Grecian troops knew neither the intent nor the occasion of the war; they set out for Sardis, at length, and marched towards the upper provinces of Athens.
When they were arrived at Tarfus, the Greeks refused to march any farther, rightly suspecting that they were intended against the king, and loudly exclaiming that they had not entered into the service upon that condition. Clearchus, who commanded them, had occasion for all his address and ability to stifle this commotion in its birth. At first he made use of authority and force, but with very ill success, and desisted therefore from an open opposition to their sentiments: he even affected to enter into their views, and to support them with his approbation and credit. By this artful evasion he appeased the tumult, and made them easy; and they chose him and some other officers for their deputies. Cyrus, whom he had secretly apprised of every thing, made answer, that he was going to attack Abrocomas, his enemy, at twelve days march from thence upon the Euphrates. When this answer was repeated to them, though they plainly saw against whom they were going, they resolved to proceed, and only demanded an augmentation of their pay. Cyrus, instead of one daric a month to each soldier, promised to give them one and a half. Still to ingratiate himself the more, being told that two officers had deserted from the army, and being advised to pursue and put them to death, he declared publicly, that it should never be said he had detained any one person in his service against his will; and he ordered their wives and children, who were left as hostages in his army, to be sent after them. A conduct so wise, and apparently generous, had a surprising effect in conciliating the affections of the soldiery, and made even those his firm adherents who were before inclined to retire.
As Cyrus advanced by long marches, he was informed from all parts, that the king did not intend to come directly to a battle, but had resolved to wait in the remotest parts of Persia till all his forces were assembled; and that, to stop his enemies, he had ordered an intrenchment to be thrown up on the plains of Babylon, with a ditch of five fathoms broad, and three deep, extending the space of twelve parasangs, or leagues, from the Euphrates to the wall of Media. Between the Euphrates and the ditch, a way had been left of twenty feet in breadth, by which Cyrus passed with his whole army, having reviewed it the day before. The king had neglected to dispute this pass with him, and suffered him to continue his march towards Babylon.
Cyrus still continued to proceed, giving Clearches the command of the right Grecian wing, and Menon that of the left, still marching in order of battle, expecting every hour to engage; at length he discovered his brother's army, consisting of twelve hundred thousand men, besides a select body of six thousand horse, approaching and preparing to engage.
The place where the battle was fought was called Cunara, about twenty-five leagues from Babylon. Cyrus getting on horseback, with his javelin in his hand, gave orders to the troops to stand to their arms, and proceed in order of battle. The enemy, in the mean time, advanced slowly, in good order. Artaxerxes led them on regularly with a slow pace, without noise or confusion. That good order and exact discipline extremely surprised the Greeks, who expected to see much luxury and tumult in so great a multitude, and to hear confused cries, as Cyrus had foretold them.
The armies were not distant above four or five hundred paces, when the Greeks began to sing the hymn of battle, and to march on softly at first, and with silence. When they came near the enemy, they set up great cries, striking their darts upon their shields to frighten the horse; and then moving all together, they sprung forwards upon the barbarians with all their force, who did not wait their charge, but took to their heels and fled universally, except Tissaphernes, who stood his ground with a small part of his troops.
Cyrus saw with pleasure the enemy routed by the Greeks, and was proclaimed king by those around him: but he did not give himself up to a vain joy, nor as yet reckoned himself victor. He perceived that Artaxerxes was wheeling his right to attack him in flank, and marched directly against him with his six hundred horse. He killed Artagerses, who commanded the king's guard of six thousand horse, with his own hand, and put the whole body to flight. Discovering his brother, he cried out with his eyes sparkling with rage, I see him, and spurred against him, followed only by his principal officers, for his troops had quitted their ranks to follow the run-aways, which was an essential fault.
The battle then became a single combat in some measure between Artaxerxes and Cyrus, and the two brothers were seen transported with rage and fury, endeavouring like Eteocles and Polynices to plunge their swords into each others hearts, and to assure themselves of the throne by the death of their rival.
Cyrus having opened his way through those who were drawn up in battle before Artaxerxes, joined him, and killed his horse, that fell with him to the ground: he rose, and was remounted upon another, when Cyrus attacked him again, gave him a second wound, and was preparing to give him a third, in hopes that it would prove his last. The king, like a lion wounded by the huntsman, was only the more furious from the smart, and sprung forwards, impetuously pushing his horse against Cyrus, who running headlong, and without regard to his person, threw himself into the midst of a flight of darts aimed at him from all sides, and received a wound from the king's javelin at the instant that all the rest discharged upon him. Cyrus fell dead; some say by the wound given him by the king, others affirm that he was killed by a Carian soldier. The greatest persons of his court resolving not to survive so good a master, were all killed around his body; a certain proof, says Xenophon, that he well knew how to chuse his friends, and that he was truly beloved by them. Ariaeus, who ought to have been the firmest of all his adherents, fled with the left wing as soon as he heard of his death.
Artaxerxes, after having caused the head and right hand of his brother to be cut off by the eunuch Mesabates, pursued the enemy into their camp. Ariaeus had not stopped there, but having passed through it, continued his retreat to the place where the army had encamped the day before, which was about four leagues distant.
Tissaphernes, after the defeat of the greatest part of his lest wing by the Greeks, led on the rest against them, and, by the side of the river, passed through the light armed infantry of the Greeks, who opened to give him a passage, and made their discharges upon him as he passed, without losing a man. They were commanded by Episthenes of Amphipolis, who was esteemed an able captain. Tissaphernes kept on without returning to the charge, because he perceived he was too weak, and went forward to Cyrus's camp, where he found the king, who was plundering it, but had not been able to force the quarter defended by the Greeks, who saved their baggage.
The Greeks on their side, and Artaxerxes on his, who did not know what had passed elsewhere, believed each of them that they had gained the victory; the first, because they had put the enemy to flight, and pursued them; and the king, because he had killed his brother, beat the troops he had fought, and plundered their camp. The event was soon cleared up on both sides. Tissaphernes, upon his arrival at the camp, informed the king, that the Greeks had defeated his left wing, and pursued it with great vigour; and the Greeks, on their side, learnt, that the king in pursuing Cyrus's left had penetrated into the camp. Upon this advice the king rallied his troops, and marched in quest of the enemy; and Clearchus being returned from pursuing the Persians, advanced to support the camp.
The two armies were soon very near each other, when, by a movement made by the king, he seemed to intend to charge the Greeks on their left, who fearing to be surrounded on all sides, wheeled about and halted, with the river on their backs, to prevent their being taken in the rear. Upon seeing that, the king changed his form of battle also, drew up his army in front of them, and marched on to the attack. As soon as the Greeks saw him approach, they began to sing the hymn of battle, and advanced against the enemy even with more ardour than in the first action.
The barbarians again began to fly, running farther than before, and were pursued to a village at the foot of a hill, upon which their horse halted. The king's standard was observed to be there, which was a golden eagle upon the top of a pike, having its wings displayed. The Greeks preparing to pursue them, they abandoned also the hill, fled precipitately with all their troops broke, and in the utmost disorder and confusion. Clearchus having drawn up the Greeks at the bottom of the hill, ordered Lycias, the Syracusan, and another, to go up it and observe what passed in the plain. They returned with an account that the enemies fled on all sides, and that their whole army was routed.
As it was almost night, the Greeks laid down their arms to rest themselves, much surprised that neither Cyrus, nor any one from him appeared; and imagining, that he was either engaged in the pursuit of the enemy, or was making haste to possess himself of some important place, for they were still ignorant of his death, and the defeat of the rest of his army; they determined, to return to their camp, and found the greatest part of the baggage taken, with all the provisions, and four hundred waggons laden with corn and wine, which Cyrus had expressly caused to be carried along with the army for the Greeks, in case of any pressing necessity. They passed the night in the camp, the greatest part of them without any refreshment, concluding that Cyrus was alive and victorious.
Amidst the confusion the Grecians were in after the battle, they sent to Ariaeus, as conqueror and commander in chief, upon Cyrus's death, to offer him the Persian crown. In the mean time, the king, as conqueror, also on his side, sent to them to surrender their arms, and implore his mercy, representing to them, at the same time, that as they were in the heart of his dominions, surrounded with vast rivers, and numberless nations, it would be impossible for them to escape his vengeance; and, therefore, they had nothing to do but to submit to the present necessity. Upon debating among themselves what answer they should return, Proxenus desired to know of the heralds upon what terms the king demanded their arms: if, as conqueror, it was in his power to take them; if upon any other footing, what would he give them in return. He was seconded by Xenophon, who said, they had nothing left but their arms and their liberty, and that they could not preserve the one without the other. Clearchus said to the same effect, that if the king was disposed to be their friend, they should be in a better capacity of serving him with arms than without; if their enemy, they should have need of them for their defence. Some indeed spoke in terms more complying; that as they had served Cyrus faithfully, they would also serve Artaxerxes, if he would employ them, and provided he would, at the same time, put them in possession of Egypt. At last it was agreed, they should remain in the place where they were; and that if they advanced farther, or retreated back, it should be looked upon as a declaration of war: so that by the issue of the debate, it appeared to have been managed so as to avoid giving a direct answer, but only to amuse the king and gain time.
Whilst this treaty was on foot, they received Ariaeus's answer, that there were too many powerful men in Persia to let him possess the throne; wherefore he intended to set out early the next morning on his return to Greece; and that, if they had a mind to accompany him, they should join him that night in his camp: which accordingly they all did, except Milthocytus, a Thracian, who went with a party of three hundred men and forty horse to the king. The rest, in conjunction with Ariaeus's forces, decamped by break of day, and continued their march until sun-set, when they discovered from the neighbouring villages that the king was in pursuit of them.
Clearchus, who now undertook to conduct the Greeks, ordered his troops to halt, and prepared for an engagement. The king of Persia terrified by so bold an appearance, sent heralds not to demand their surrender, but to propose terms of peace and treaty. When Clearchus was informed of their arrival, he gave orders to bid them wait, and to tell them that he was not yet at leisure to hear them. He assumed purposely an air of haughtiness and grandeur, to denote his intrepidity, and, at the same time, to shew the fine appearance and good condition of his phalanx. When he advanced with the most shewy of his officers, expressly chosen for the occasion, and had heard what the heralds had to propose; he made answer, that they must begin with giving battle, because the army being in want of provisions had no time to lose. The heralds having carried back this answer to their master, returned immediately, which shewed that the king, or whoever spoke in his name, was not very far distant. They said they had orders to conduct them to villages where they would find provisions in abundance, and conducted them thither accordingly.
After three days stay Tissaphernes arrived from the king, and insinuated to them the good offices he had employed for their safety. Clearchus in his own defence urged, that they were engaged in this expedition without knowing the enemy against whom they were to contend; that they were free from all engagements, and had no design against the Persian king, unless he opposed their return. Tissaphernes seemingly granted their desire, and promised that they should be furnished with all necessary provisions in their march; and to confirm their security, that he himself would be their companion on the way.
Accordingly, in a few days after they set out under his conduct; but, in their march, the barbarians encamping at about a league's distance from the Grecians, created some little distrusts and jealousies on both sides. In about fifty days, being got to the banks of the river Zabatus, Clearchus, to prevent things coming to an open rupture, had a conference with Tissaphernes. The result of their discourse was, that they had been misrepresented to each other by some of Clearchus's officers; and that he should bring them all to Tissaphernes, in order to detect those who were guilty. In consequence of this, it was agreed between them that there should be a general consultation of officers, in which those who had been remiss, or attempted to sow any dissensions between the two armies, should be exposed and punished. Menon, in particular, was suspected on both sides, and he was appointed among the number. In consequence of this fatal resolution, the five principal generals attended the succeeding day at the Persian general's tent. Their names were, Clearchus, Menon, Proxenes, Agias, and Socrates; they, on a signal given, were immediately seized, their attendants put to the sword, and themselves, after being sent bound to the king, were beheaded in his presence.
Nothing could exceed the consternation of the Greeks when they were informed of the massacre of their generals: they were now near two thousand miles from home, surrounded with great rivers, extensive desarts, and inimical nations, without any supplies of provisions. In this state of general dejection, they could think of taking neither nourishment nor repose; all now turned their eyes upon Xenophon, a young Athenian, who had been invited into Asia by Proxences, and had hitherto served as a volunteer in the army: this was that Xenophon afterwards so famous as an historian; and his conduct seemed equal to his eloquence, in which he surpassed all the rest of mankind. This young general went to some of the Greek officers in the middle of the night, and represented to them that they had no time to lose; that it was of the last importance to prevent the bad designs of the enemy; that, however small their number, they would render themselves formidable, if they behaved with boldness and resolution; that valour, and not multitudes, determines the success of arms; and that it was necessary, above all things, to nominate generals immediately, because an army without commanders is like a body without a soul. A council was immediately held, at which an hundred officers were present; and Xenophon being desired to speak, deduced the reasons at large he had at first but lightly touched upon: and, by his advice, commanders were appointed. They were, Timasion for Clearchus, Xanthicles for Socrates, Cleanor for Agis, Philesius for Menon, and Xenophon for Proxenes.
Before the break of day they assembled the army. The generals made speeches to animate the troops; and Xenophon, among the rest.
"Fellow-soldiers, said he, the loss of so many brave men by vile treachery, and the being abandoned by our friends, is very deplorable; but we must not sink under our misfortunes: and, if we cannot conquer, let us chuse rather to perish gloriously than to fall into the hands of barbarians, who would inflict upon us the greatest miseries; let us call to mind the glorious battles of Plataea, Thermopylae, Salamis, and the many others wherein our ancestors, though with a small number, have fought and defeated the innumerable armies of the Persians, and thereby rendered the name alone of Greeks for ever formidable. It is to their invincible valour we owe the honour we possess of acknowledging no masters upon earth but the gods, nor any happiness but what consists with liberty. Those gods, the avengers of perjury, and witnesses of the enemy's treason, will be favourable to us; and, as they are attacked in the violation of treaties, and take pleasure in humbling the proud, and exalting the low, they will also follow us to battle and combat for us. For the rest, fellow-soldiers, as we have no refuge but in victory, which must be our hope, and will make us ample amends for whatever it costs to attain it; I should believe, if it were your opinion, that for the making a more ready and less difficult retreat, it would be very proper to rid ourselves of all the useless baggage, and to keep only what is absolutely necessary in our march."
All the soldiers that moment lifted up their hands, to signify their approbation and consent to all that had been said, and without loss of time set fire to their tents and carriages; such of them as had too much equipage, giving it others who had too little, and destroying the rest.
Cherisophus, the Spartan general, led the van, and Xenophon, with Tymasion, brought up the rear. They bent their march towards the heads of the great rivers, in order to pass them where they were fordable. But they had made little way before they were followed by a party of the enemy's archers and slingers, commanded by Mithridates, which galled their rear, and wounded several of them, who being heavy armed, and without cavalry, could make no resistance. To prevent the like inconvenience, Xenophon furnished two hundred Rhodians with slings, and mounted fifty more of his men upon baggage-horses; so that when Mithridates came up with them a second time, and with a much greater body, he repulsed them with loss, and made good his retreat with this handful of men, until he arrived near the city of Larissa, on the banks of the Tigris. From thence they marched to another desolate city, called Mepsila, and about four leagues from that place Tissaphernes came up to them with his whole army in order of battle, but after several skirmishes was forced to retire. In a few days after he secured an eminence over which the Grecians were obliged to make their way, which Xenophon perceiving, took a detachment of the army, and with great diligence gained the top of a mountain which commanded that eminence, from whence he easily dislodged the enemy, and made good a passage for the rest of his troops into the plain, where they found plenty of provisions, though Tissaphernes had done what he could before to burn and destroy the country.
But still they were under as great difficulties as ever, being bounded on the one hand by the Tigris, and on the other by inaccessible mountains, inhabited by the Carduch, a fierce and warlike people; and who, Xenophon says, had cut off an army of six score thousand Persians to a man, by reason of the difficulty of the ways. However, having no boats to cross the river, and the passage through the mountains opening into the rich plains of Armenia, they resolved to pursue their march that way. These barbarians soon took the alarm, but not being prepared to meet the Greeks in a body, they possessed themselves of the tops of the rocks and mountains, and from thence annoyed them with darts and great stones, which they threw down into the desiles through which they passed, in which they were also attacked by several other parties; and though their loss was not considerable, yet, what with storms and famine, besides seven tedious days march, and being continually forced to fight their way, they underwent more fatigue and hardship than they had suffered from the Persians during the whole expedition.
They found themselves soon after exposed to new dangers. Almost at the foot of the mountains, they came to a river two hundred feet in breadth, called Centrites, which stopped their march. They had to defend themselves against the enemy, who pursued them in the rear, and the Armenians, the soldiers of the country, who defended the opposite side of the river. They attempted in vain to pass it in a place where the water came up to their arm pits, and were carried away by the rapidity of the current, against which the weight of their arms made them unable to resist. By good fortune they discovered another place not so deep, where some soldiers had seen the people of the country pass. It required abundance of address, diligence, and valour, to keep off the enemy on both sides of them. The army, however, passed the river at length without much loss.
They marched forwards with less interruption, passed the source of the Tygris, and arrived at the little river Teleboa, which is very beautiful, and has many villages on its banks. Here began the western Armenia, which was governed by Tiribasus, a satrap much beloved by the king, and who had the honour to help him to mount on horseback when at the court. He offered to let the army pass, and to suffer the soldiers to take all they wanted, upon condition that they should commit no ravages in their march; which proposal was accepted and ratified on each side. Tiribasus kept always a flying camp at a small distance from the army. There fell a great quantity of snow, which gave the troops some inconvenience; and they learnt from a prisoner, that Tiribasus had a design to attack the Greeks at a pass of the mountains, in a defile through which they must necessarily march. They prevented him, by seizing that post, after having put the enemy to flight. After some days march through the desart, they passed the Euphrates near its source, not having the water above their middles.
They suffered exceedingly afterwards from a north wind, which blew in their faces, and prevented respiration; so that it was thought necessary to sacrifice to the wind, upon which it seemed to abate. They marched on in snow five or six feet deep, which killed several servants and beasts of burden, besides thirty soldiers. They made fires during the night, for they found plenty of wood. All the next day they continued their march through the snow, when many of them, from the excess of hunger, followed with languor, or fainting, continued lying upon the ground through weakness and want of spirits: when something had been given them to eat, they found themselves relived, and continued their march.
After a march of seven days they arrived at the river Araxes, called also the Phasus, which is about an hundred feet in breadth. Two days after they discovered the Phasians, the Chalybes, and the T
ochians, who kept the pass of the mountain to prevent their descending into the plain. They saw it was impossible to avoid coming to a battle with them, and resolved to give it the same day. Xenophon, who had observed that the enemy defended only the ordinary passage, and that the mountain was three leagues in extent, proposed the sending a detachment to take possession of the heights that commanded the enemy, which would not be difficult, as they might prevent all suspicion of their design by a march in the night, and by making a false attack by the main road to amuse the barbarians. This was accordingly executed, the enemy put to slight, and the pass cleared. Thus, after twelve or fifteen days march, they arrived at a very high mountain, called Tecqua, from whence they descried the sea. The first who perceived it raised great shouts of joy for a considerable time, which made Xenophon imagine that the vanguard was attacked, and went with all haste to support it. As he approached nearer, the cry of the sea! the sea! was heard distinctly, and the alarm changed into joy and gaiety; and when they came to the top, nothing was heard but a confused noise of the whole army, crying out together, the sea! the sea! whilst they could not refrain from tears, nor from embracing their generals and officers; and then, without waiting for orders, they heaped up a pile of stones, and erected a trophy with broken bucklers and other arms.
From thence they advanced to the mountains of Colchis, one of which was higher than the rest, and of that the people of the country had possessed themselves. The Greeks drew up in battle at the bottom of it to ascend, for the access was not impracticable. Xenophon did not judge it proper to march in line of battle, but by files, because the soldiers could not keep their ranks from the inequality of the ground, that in some places were easy, in others difficult to climb, which might discourage them. That advice was approved, and the army formed according to it. The heavyarmed troops amounted to fourscore files, each consisting of about one hundred men; with eighteen hundred light-armed soldiers, divided in three bodies, one of which was posted on the right, another on the left, and a third in the center. After having encouraged his troops, by representing to them that this was the last obstacle they had to surmount, and implored the assistance of the gods, the army began to ascend the hill. The enemy were not able to support their charge, and dispersed. They passed the mountain, and encamped in villages, where they found provisions in abundance.
A very strange accident happened there to the army, which put them into great consternation; for the soldiers finding abundance of beehives in that place, and eating the honey, they were taken with violent vomiting and fluxes, attended with raving fits; so that those who were least ill seemed like drunken men, and the rest either furiously mad or dying. The earth was strewed with their bodies as after a defeat; however, none of them died, and the distemper ceased the next day, about the same hour it had taken them. The third or fourth day the soldiers got up, but in the condition people are in after taking a violent medicine.
Two days after the army arrived near Trebisond, a Greek colony of Sinopians, situated upon the Euxine, or Black Sea, in the province of Colchis. Here they lay encamped for thirty days, and acquitted themselves of the vows they had made to Jupiter, Hercules, and the other deities, to obtain an happy return into their own country: they also celebrated the games of horse and foot races, wrestling, boxing, the pancratium, the whole attended with the greatest joy and solemnity. Here Xenophon formed a project of settling them in those parts, and founding a Grecian colony, which was approved of by some; but his enemies representing it to the army only as a more honourable way of abandoning them; and to the inhabitants as a design to subdue and enslave the country, he was forced to give over that enterprize. However, the noise of it had this good effect, that the natives did what they could in a friendly manner to procure their departure, advising them to go by sea as the safest way, and furnished them with a sufficient number of transports for that purpose.
Accordingly they embarked with a fair wind, and the next day got into the harbour of Sinope, where Cherisophus met them with some gallies; but instead of the money they had also expected from him, he only told them they should be paid their arrears as soon as they got out of the Euxine sea. But this answer occasioned a great deal of murmuring and discontent among them; so that they resolved to put themselves under one general, desiring Xenophon in the most pressing and affectionate terms to accept of that command, which he modestly declined, and procured the choice to fall upon Cherisophus. But he enjoyed it not above six or seven days; for no sooner were they arrived at Heraclea, than the army deposed him for refusing to extort a sum of money from the inhabitants of that city; which being a Grecian colony, Xenophon likewise refused to concern himself in that affair; so that the army being disappointed in their hopes of plunder, fell into a mutiny, and divided into three bodies, after suffering a slight retreat. When divided from their barbarian enemies, they were happily reunited and encamped at the port of Calpe, where they settled the command as before, substituting Neon in the room of Cherisophus, who died here, and making it death for any man henceforward to propose the dividing of the army. But being streightened for provisions, they were forced to spread themselves in the vallies, where Pharnabazus's horse, being joined by the inhabitants, cut in pieces five hundred of them; the rest escaping to a hill, were rescued and brought off by Xenophon, who after this led them through a large forest, where Pharnabazus had posted his troops to oppose their passage; but they entirely defeated him, and pursued their march to Chrysopolis of Chalcedon, having got a great deal of booty in their way, and from thence to Byzantium.
From thence he led them to Salmydessa, to serve Seuthes prince of Thrace, who had beforce sollicited Xenophon by his envoys to bring troops to his aid, in order to his re-establishment in his father's dominions, of which his enemies had deprived him. He had made Xenophon great promises for himself and his troops; but when he had done him the service he wanted, he was so far from keeping his word, that he did not give them the pay agreed upon. Xenophon reproached him exceedingly with this breach of faith, imputing his perfidy to his minister Heraclides, who thought to make his court to his master by saving him a sum of money at the expence of justice, faith, and honesty, qualities which ought to be dearer than all others to a prince, as they contribute the most to his reputation, as well as to the success of affairs, and the security of a state. But that treacherous minister, who looked upon honour, probity, and justice as mere chimeras; and that there was nothing real but the possession of much money, had no thoughts, in consequence, but of enriching himself by any means whatsoever, and robbed his master first with impunity, and all his subjects along with him. However, continued Xenophon, every wise man, especially in authority and command, ought to regard justice, probity, and the faith of engagements as the most precious treasure he can possess, and as an assured resource and an infallible support in all the events that can happen. Heraclides was the more in the wrong for acting in this manner with regard to the troops, as he was a native of Greece, and not a Thracian; but avarice had extinguished all sense of honour in him.
Whilst the dispute between Seuthes and Xenophon was warmest, Charminus and Polynices arrived as ambassadors from Lacedaemon, and brought advice, that the republic had declared war against Tissaphernes and Pharnabazus; that Thimbron had already embarked with the troops, and promised a darick a month to every soldier, two to each officer, and four to the colonels, who should engage in the service. Xenophon accepted the offer, and having obtained from Seuthes, by the mediation of the ambassadors, part of the pay due to him, he went by sea to Lampsacus with the army, which amounted at that time to almost six thousand men. From thence he advanced to Pergamus, a city in the province of Troas. Having met near Parthenia, where ended the expedition of the Greeks, a great nobleman returning into Persia, he took him, his wife and children, with all his equipage, and by that means found himself in a condition to bestow great liberalities amongst the soldiers, and to make them a satisfactory amends for all the losses they had sustained. Thimbron at length arrived, who took upon him the command of the troops, and having joined them with his own, marched against Tissaphernes and Pharnabazus.
Such was the event of Cyrus's expedition. Xenophon reckons from the first setting out of that prince's army from the city of Ephesus to their arrival where the battle was fought, five hundred and thirty parasangas, or leagues, and fourscore and thirteen days march; and in their return from the place of battle to Cotyora, a city upon the coast of the Euxine, or Black Sea, six hundred and twenty parasangas, or leagues, and one hundred and twenty days march; and, adding both together, he says the way going and coming was eleven hundred and fifty-five parasangas, or leagues, and two hundred and fifteen days march; and that the whole time the army took to perform that journey, including the days of rest, was fifteen months.
This retreat of the ten thousand Greeks has always passed among judges of the art of war as a most extraordinary undertaking, and it, in some measure, inspired them ever after with a contempt for the power of the Persians; it taught them, that their dominions could be invaded without danger, and that marching into Persia was but pursuing an unresisting enemy, that only appeared to offer victory rather than battle.
In the mean time, while Greece was gaining fame in Persia, Athens was losing its honour at home: though it had now some breathingtime to recover from its late confusions, yet still there were the seeds of rancour remaining, and the citizens opposed each other with unremitting malice. Socrates was the first object that fell a sacrifice to these popular dissensions. We have already seen this great man, who was the son of an obscure citizen at Athens, emerging from the meanness of his birth, and giving examples of courage, moderation, and wisdom; we have seen him saving the life of Alcibiades in battle, of refusing to concur in the edict which unjustly doomed the six Athenian generals to death, of withstanding the thirty tyrants, and of spurning the bigotry and persecution of the times with the most acute penetration, and the most caustic raillery; he possessed unexampled good-nature, and an universal love to mankind; he was ready to pity vices in others, while he was in a great measure free from them himself; however, he knew his own defects, and if he was proud of any thing, it was in the being thought to have none. He seemed, says Libanius, the common father of the republic, so attentive was he to the happiness and advantage of his whole country. But as it is very difficult to correct the aged, and to make people change principles, who revere the errors in which they have grown grey, he devoted his labours principally to the instruction of youth, in order to sow the seeds of virtue in a soil more fit to produce the fruits of it. He had no open school like the rest of the philosophers, nor set times for his lessons; he had no benches prepared, nor ever mounted a professor's chair; he was the philosopher of all times and seasons; he taught in all places, and upon all occasions, in walking, conversation at meals, in the army, and in the midst of the camp, in the public assemblies of the senate or people. Such was the man whom a faction in the city had long devoted to destruction; he had been for many years before his death the object of their satire and ridicule. Aristophanes, the comic poet, was engaged to expose him upon the stage: he composed a piece called the Clouds, wherein he introduced the philosopher in a basket, uttering the most ridiculous absurdities. Socrates, who was present at the exhibition of his own character, seemed not to feel the least emotion; and, as some strangers were present who desired to know the original for whom the play was intended, he rose up from his seat, and shewed himself during the whole representation. This was the first blow struck at him, and it was not till twenty years after that Melitus appeared in a more formal manner as his accuser, and entered a regular process against him. His accusation consisted of two heads; the first was, that he did not admit the gods acknowledged by the republic, and introduced new divinities: the second, that he corrupted the youth of Athens; and concluded with inferring that sentence of death ought to pass against him. How far the whole charge affected him is not easy to determine: it is certain, that amidst so much zeal and superstition as then reigned in Athens, he never durst openly oppose the received religion, and was therefore sorced to preserve an outward shew of it; but it is very probable, from the discourses he frequently held with his friends, that in his heart he despised and laughed at their monstrous opinions and ridiculous mysteries, as having no other foundation than the fables of the poets; and that he had attained to the notion of the one only true God, insomuch, that upon the account both of his belief of the Deity, and the exemplariness of his life, some have thought fit to rank him with the Christian philosophers.
As soon as the conspiracy broke out, the friends of Socrates prepared for his defence. Lycias, the must able orator of his time, brought him an elaborate discourse of his composing, wherein he had set forth the reasons and measures of Socrates in their full force, and interspered the whole with tender and pathetic strokes, capable of moving the most obdurate hearts. Socrates read it with pleasure, and approved it very much; but, as it was more conformable to the rules of rhetoric, than the sentiments and fortitude of a philosopher, he told him frankly, that it did not suit him. Upon which Lycias having asked how it was possible to be well done, and at the same time not suit him? In the same manner, said he, using according to his custom a vulgar comparison, that an excellent workman might bring me magnificent apparel, or shoes embroidered with gold, to which nothing would be wanting on his part, but which, however, would not fit me. He persisted, therefore, inflexibly in the resolution not to demean himself by begging suffrages in the low abject manner common at that time. He employed neither artifice nor the glitter of eloquence; he had no recourse either to sollicitation or entreaty; he brought neither his wife nor children to incline the judges in his favour by their sighs and tears: nevertheless, though he firmly refused to make use of any other voice but his own in his defence, and to appear before his judges in the submissive posture of a suppliant, he did not behave in that manner out of pride or contempt of the tribunal; it was from a noble and intrepid assurance, resulting from greatness of soul, and the consciousness of his truth and innocence; so that his defence had nothing timorous or weak in it: his discourse was bold, manly, generous, without passion, without emotion, full of the noble liberty of a philosopher, with no other ornament than that of truth, and brightened universally with the character and language of innocence. Plato, who was present, transcribed it afterwards, and without any additions, composed from it the work which he calls the Apology of Socrates, one of the most consummate master-pieces of antiquity. I shall here make an extract from it.
Upon the day assigned, the proceedings commenced in the usual forms; the parties appeared before the judges, and Melitus spoke: the worse his cause, and the less provided it was with proofs, the more occasion he had for address and art to cover its weakness; he omitted nothing that might render the adverse party odious; and, instead of reasons which could not but fail him, he substituted the delusive shine of a lively and pompous eloquence. Socrates, in observing, that he could not tell what impression the discourse of his accusers might make upon the judges, owns, that for his part, he scarce knew himself, they had given such artful colouring and likelihood to their arguments, though there was not the least word of truth in all they had advanced.
I am accused of corrupting the youth, and of instilling dangerous maxims into them, as well in regard to the worship of the gods as the rules of government. You know, Athenians, that I never made it my profession to teach, nor can envy, however violent against me, reproach me with having ever sold my instructions. I have an undeniable evidence for me in this respect, which is my poverty. Always equally ready to communicate my thoughts either to the rich or poor, and to give them entire leisure to question or answer me. I lend myself to every one who is desirous of becoming virtuous; and if, amongst those who hear me, there are any that prove either good or bad, neither the virtues of the one, nor the vices of the other, to which I have not contributed, are to be ascribed to me. My whole employment is to persuade the young and old against too much love for the body, for riches, and all other precarious things, of whatsoever nature they be; and against too little regard for the soul, which ought to be the object of their affection. For I incessantly urge to you, that virtue does not proceed from riches; but, on the contrary, riches from virtue; and that the all other goods of human life, as well public as private, have their source in the same principle.
If to speak in this manner be to corrupt youth, I confess, Athenians, that I am guilty, and deserve to be punished. If what I say be not true, it is most easy to convict me of my falshood. I see here a great number of my disciples; they have only to appear. But, perhaps, the reserve and consideration for a master who has instructed them, will prevent them from declaring against me; at least their fathers, brothers, and uncles cannot, as good relations and good citizens, dispense with their not standing forth to demand vengeance against the corrupter of their sons, brothers, and nephews. But these are the persons who take upon them my defence, and interest themselves in the success of my cause.
Pass on me what sentence you please, Athenians; but I can neither repent or change my conduct; I must not abandon or suspend a function which God himself has imposed on me. Now he has charged me with the care of instructing my fellow-citizens. If after having faithfully kept all the posts wherein I was placed by our generals at Potidaea, Amphipolis, and Delium, the fear of death should at this time make me abandon that in which the divine Providence has placed me, by commanding me to pass my life in the study of philosophy for the instruction of myself and others; this would be a most criminal desertion indeed, and make me highly worthy of being cited before this tribunal as an impious man who does not believe the gods. Should you resolve to acquit me; for the future, I should not hesitate to make answer, Athenians, I honour and love you; but I shall chuse rather to obey God than you, and to my latest breath shall never renounce my philosophy, nor cease to exhort and reprove you according to my custom, by telling each of you when you come in my way, My good friend and citizen of the most famous city in the world for wisdom and valour, are you not ashamed to have no other thoughts than that of amassing wealth and of acquiring glory, credit, and dignities, whilst you neglect the treasures of prudence, truth, and wisdom, and take no pains in rendering your soul as good and perfect as it is capable of being.
I am reproached with abject fear and meanness of spirit, for being so busy in imparting my advice to every one in private, and for having always avoided to be present in your assemblies to give my counsels to my country. I think I have sufficiently proved my courage and fortitude both in the field, where I have borne arms with you, and in the senate, where I alone opposed the unjust sentence you pronounced against the ten captains, who had not taken up and interred the bodies of those who were killed and drowned in the sea-fight near the island Arginusae; and when, upon more than one occasion, I opposed the violent and cruel orders of the thirty tyrants. What is it then that has prevented me from appearing in your assemblies? It is that daemon, that voice divine, which you have so often heard me mention, and Melitus has taken so much pains to ridicule. That spirit has attached itself to me from my infancy: it is a voice which I never hear but when it would prevent me from persisting in something I have resolved; for it never exhorts me to undertake any thing: it is the same being that has always opposed me when I would have intermeddled in the affairs of the republic, and that with the greatest reason; for I should have been amongst the dead long ago had I been concerned in the measures of the state, without effecting any thing to the advantage of myself or our country. Do not take it ill, I beseech you, if I speak my thoughts without disguise, and with truth and freedom. Every man who would generously oppose a whole people, either amongst us or elsewhere, and who inflexibly applies himself to prevent the violation of the laws, and the practice of iniquity in a government, will never do so long with impunity. It is absolutely necessary for him, who would contend for justice, if he has any thoughts of living, to remain in a private station, and never to have any share in public affairs.
For the rest, Athenians, if, in the extreme danger I now am, I do not imitate the behaviour of those, who upon less emergencies have implored and supplicated their judges with tears, and have brought forth their children, relations, and friends; it is not through pride and obstinacy, or any contempt for you, but solely for your honour, and for that of the whole city. You should know, that there are amongst our citizens those who do not regard death as an evil, and who give that name only to injustice and infamy. At my age, and with the reputation, true or false, which I have, would it be consistent for me, after all the lessons I have given upon the contempt of death, to be afraid of it myself, and to belie in my last action all the principles and sentiments of my past life?
But without speaking of my fame, which I should extremely injure by such a conduct, I do not think it allowable to intreat a judge, nor to be absolved by supplications. He ought to be persuaded and convinced. The judge does not sit upon the bench to shew favour, by violating the laws, but to do justice in conforming to them. He does not swear to discharge with impunity whom he pleases, but to do justice where it is due: we ought not, therefore, to accustom you to perjury, nor you to suffer yourselves to be accustomed to it; for, in so doing, both the one and the other of us equally injure justice and religion, and both are criminals.
Do not, therefore, expect from me, Athenians, that I should have recourse amongst you to means which I believe neither honest nor lawful, especially upon this occasion, wherein I am accused of impiety by Melitus; for, if I should influence you by my prayers, and thereby induce you to violate your oaths, it would be undeniably evident, that I teach you not to believe in the gods; and even in defending and justifying myself, should furnish my adversaries with arms against me, and prove that I believe no Divinity. But I am very far from such bad thoughts: I am more convinced of the existence of God than my accusers; and so convinced, that I abandon myself to God and you, that you may judge of me as you shall deem best for yourselves and me.
Socrates pronounced this discourse with a firm and intrepid tone: his air, his action, his visage, expressed nothing of the accused; he seemed the master of his judges, from the assurance and greatness of soul with which he spoke, without however losing any thing of the modesty natural to him. But how slight soever the proofs were against him, the faction was powerful enough to find him guilty. There was the form of a process against him, and his irreligion was the pretence upon which it was grounded, but his death was certainly a concerted thing. His steady uninterrupted course of obstinate virtue, which had made him in many cases appear singular, and oppose whatever he thought illegal or unjust, without any regard to times or persons, had procured him a great deal of envy and ill will.
By his first sentence the judges only declared Socrates guilty; but when, by his answer, he appeared to appeal from their tribunal to that of justice and posterity; when, instead of confessing himself guilty, he demanded rewards and honours from the state, the judges were so very much offended, that they condemned him to drink hemlock, a method of execution then in use amongst them.
Socrates received this sentence with the utmost composure. Apollodorus, one of his disciples, launching out into bitter invectives and lamentations that his master should die
innocent:
"What," replied Socrates, with a smile, "would you have had me die guilty? Melitus and Anytus may kill, but they cannot hurt me."
After his sentence he still continued with the same serene and intrepid aspect with which he had long enforced virtue, and held tyrants in awe; when he entered his prison, which now became the residence of virtue and probity, his friends followed him thither, and continued to visit him during the interval between his condemnation and death, which lasted for thirty days. The cause of that long delay was, the Athenians sent every year a ship to the isle of Delos, to offer certain sacrifices, and it was prohibited to put any person to death in the city from the time the priest of Apollo had crowned the poop of this vessel as a signal of its departure, till the same vessel should return; so that sentence having been passed upon Socrates the day after that ceremony began, it was necessary to defer the execution of it for thirty days, during the continuance of this voyage.
In this long interval, death had sufficient opportunities to present itself before his eyes in all its terrors, and to put his constancy to the proof, not only by the severe rigour of a dungeon, and the irons upon his legs, but by the continual prospect and cruel expectation of an event of which nature is always abhorrent. In this sad condition he did not cease to enjoy that profound tranquility of mind which his friends had always admired in him. He entertained them with the same temper he had always expressed; and Crito observes, that the evening before his death, he slept as peaceably as at any other time. He composed also an hymn in honour of Apollo and Diana, and turned one of Aesop's fables into verse.
The day before, or the same day that the ship was to arrive from Delos, the return of which was to be followed by the death of Socrates, Crito, his intimate friend, came to him early in the morning to let him know that bad news; and, at the same time, that it depended only upon himself to quit the prison; that the jailor was gained; that he would find the doors open, and offered him a safe retreat in Thessaly. Socrates laughed at this proposal, and asked him, whither he knew any place out of Attica where people did not die? Crito urged the thing very seriously, and pressed him to take the advantage of so precious an opportunity, adding argument upon argument, to induce his consent, and to engage him to resolve upon his escape: without mentioning the inconsolable grief he should suffer for the death of such a friend, how should he support the reproaches of an infinity of people, who would believe that it was in his power to have saved him, but that he would not sacrifice a small part of his wealth for that purpose: can the people ever be persuaded that so wise a man as Socrates would not quit his prison when he might do it with all possible security? Perhaps he might fear to expose his friends, or to occasion the loss of their fortunes, or even of their lives or liberty: ought there to be any thing more dear and precious to them than the preservation of Socrates? Even strangers themselves dispute that honour with them, many of whom have come expressly with considerable sums of money to purchase his escape, and declare, that they should think themselves highly honoured to receive him amongst them, and to supply him abundantly with all he should have occasion for: ought he to abandon himself to enemies who have occasioned his being condemned unjustly, and can he think it allowable to betray his own cause? It is not essential to his goodness and justice to spare his fellow-citizens the guilt of innocent blood: but if all these motives cannot alter him, and he is not concerned in regard to himself, can he be insensible to the interests of his children? In what a condition does he leave them; and can he forget the father to remember only the philosopher?
Socrates, after having heard him with attention, praised his zeal, and expressed his gratitude; but before he could give into his opinion, was for examining whether it was just for him to depart out of prison without the consent of the Athenians. The question therefore here is, to know whether a man condemned to die, though unjustly, can without a crime escape from justice and the laws. Socrates held that it was unjust; and, therefore, nobly refused to escape from prison. He reverenced the laws of his country, and resolved to obey them in all things, even in his death.
At length the fatal ship returned to Athens, which was in a manner the signal for the death of Socrates. The next day all his friends, except Plato, who was sick, repaired to the prison early in the morning. The jailor desired them to wait a little, because the eleven magistrates (who had the direction of the prisons) were at that time signifying to the prisoner that he was to die the same day. Presently after they entered, and found Socrates, whose chains had been taken off, sitting by Xantippe, his wife, who held one of his children in her arms; as soon as she perceived them, setting up great cries, sobbing, and tearing her face and hair, she made the prison resound with her complaints; Oh, my dear Socrates! your friends are come to see you this day for the last time! He desired she might be taken away, and she was immediately carried home.
Socrates passed the rest of the day with his friends, and discoursed with them with his usual chearfulness and tranquility. The subject of conversation was the most important, but adapted to the present conjuncture; that is to say, the immortality of the soul. What gave occasion to this discourse was, a question introduced in a manner by chance, Whether a true philosopher ought not to desire, and take pains to die? This proposition taken too literally, implied an opinion, that a philosopher might kill himself. Socrates shews that nothing is more unjust than this notion; and, that man appertaining to God, who formed and placed him with his own hand in the post he possesses, cannot abandon it without his permission, nor depart from life without his order. What is it then that can induce a philosopher to entertain this love for death? It can be only the hope of that happiness which he expects in another life; and that hope can be founded only upon the opinion of the soul's immortality.
Socrates employed the last day of his life in entertaining his friends upon this great and important subject; from which conversation, Plato's admirable dialogue, intitled the Phaedon, is wholly taken. He explains to his friends all the arguments for believing the soul immortal, and refutes all the objections against it, which are very near the same as are made at this day.
When Socrates had done speaking, Crito desired him to give him, and the rest of his friends, his last instructions in regard to his children and other affairs, that by executing them they might have the consolation of doing him some pleasure. I shall recommend nothing to you this day, replied Socrates, more than I have already done, which is, to take care of yourselves. You cannot do yourselves a greater service, nor do me and my family a greater pleasure. Crito having asked him afterwards in what manner he thought fit to be buried? As you please, said Socrates, if you can lay hold of me, and I not escape out of your hands. At the same time, looking on his friends with a smile, I can never persuade Crito, that Socrates is he who converses with you, and disposes the several parts of his discourse, for he always imagines that I am what he is going to see dead in a little while; he confounds me with my carcase, and therefore asks me how I would be interred. In finishing these words, he rose up, and went to bathe himself in a chamber adjoining. After he came out of the bath, his children were brought to him, for he had three, two very little, and the other grown up. He spoke to them for some time, gave his orders to the women who took care of them, and then dismissed them. Being returned into his chamber, he laid himself down upon his bed.
The servant of the eleven entered at the same instant, and having informed him that the time for drinking the hemlock was come, (which was at sun-set) the servant was so much afflicted with sorrow, that he turned his back and fell a-weeping. See, said Socrates, the good heart of this man, since my imprisonment he has often come to see me, and to converse with me; he is more worthy than all his fellows: how heartily the poor man weeps for me. This is a remarkable example, and might teach those in an office of this kind how they ought to behave to all prisoners, but more especially to persons of merit, when they are so unhappy to fall into their hands. The fatal cup was brought. Socrates asked what it was necessary for him to do? Nothing more, replied the servant, than as soon as you have drank off the draught, to walk about till you find your legs grow weary, and afterwards lie down upon your bed. He took the cup without any emotion, or change in his colour or countenance; and regarding the man with a steady and assured look:
"Well, said he, what say you of this drink; may one make a libation out of it?"
Upon being told that there was only enough for one dose:
"At least, continued he, we may say our prayers to the gods, as it is our duty, and implore them to make our exit from this world, and our last stage happy, which is what I most ardently beg of them."
After having spoke these words, he kept silence for some time, and then drank off the whole draught with an amazing tranquillity and serenity of aspect not to be expressed or conceived.
Till then his friends, with great violence to themselves, had refrained from tears, but after he had drank the potion, they were no longer their own masters, and wept abundantly. Apollodorus, who had been in tears during almost the whole conversation, began then to raise great cries, and to lament with such excessive grief, as pierced the hearts of all that were present. Socrates alone remained unmoved, and even reproved his friends, tho' with his usual mildness and good nature.
"What are you doing? said he to them. I admire at you! Oh! what is become of your virtue? Was it not for this I sent away the women, that they might not fall into these weaknesses; for I have always heard say that we ought to die peaceably, and blessing the gods. Be at ease, I beg you, and shew more constancy and resolution."
He then obliged them to restrain their tears.
In the mean time, he kept walking to and fro; and when he found his legs grow weary, he laid down upon his back, as he had been directed.
The poison then operated more and more. When Socrates sound it began to gain upon the heart, uncovering his face, which had been covered, without doubt to prevent any thing from disturbing him in his last moments,
"Crito, said he, we owe a cock to Aesculapius; discharge that vow for me, and pray do not forget it."
Soon after which he breathed his last. Crito went to his body, and closed his mouth and eyes. Such was the end of Socrates, in the first year of the ninety-fifth Olympiad, and the seventieth of his age.
It was not till some time after the death of this great man, that the people of Athens perceived their mistake, and began to repent of it; their hatred being satisfied, their prejudices expired, and time having given them an opportunity for reflection, the notorious injustice of the sentence appeared in all its horrors. Nothing was heard throughout the city but discourses in favour of Socrates. The Academy, the Lycaeum, private houses, public walks, and market places, seemed still to reecho the sound of his loved voice.
"Here, said they, he formed our youth, and taught our children to love their country, and to honour their parents. In this place he gave us his admirable lessons, and sometimes made us seasonable reproaches, to engage us more warmly in the pursuit of virtue. Alas! how have we rewarded him for such important services?"
Athens was in universal mourning and consternation. The schools were shut up, and all exercises suspended. The accusers were called to account for the innocent blood they had caused to be shed. Melitus was condemned to die, and the rest banished. Plutarch observes, that all those who had any share in this black calumny were in such abomination amongst the citizens, that no one would give them fire, answer them any question, nor go into the same bath with them, and had the place cleaned where they had had bathed, lest they should be polluted by touching it, which drove them into such despair, that many of them killed themselves.
The Athenians, not contented with having punished his accusers, caused a statue of brass to be erected to him, of the workmanship of the celebrated Lysippus, and placed it in one of the most conspicuous parts of the city. Their respect and gratitude rose even to a religious veneration; they dedicated a chapel to him, as to a hero and a demi-god, which they called the Chapel of Socrates.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.