with him a considerable suite. On his arrival at Magnesia grief instead
of gold proved his portion. His enemy seized him, put him to a miserable
death, and hung his dead body on a cross to the mercy of the sun and the
rains. Thus his daughter's dream was fulfilled, for, in the old belief,
to be washed by the rain was to be washed by Zeus, while the sun
anointed him by causing the fat to exude from his body.
A year or two after the death of Polycrates, his banished brother
Syloson came to the throne in a singular way. During his exile he found
himself at Memphis, in Egypt, while Cambyses was there with his
conquering army. Among the guards of the king was Darius, the future
king of Persia, but then a soldier of little note. Syloson wore a
scarlet cloak to which Darius took a fancy and proposed to buy it. By a
sudden impulse Syloson replied, "I cannot for any price sell it; but I
give it you for nothing, if it must be yours."
Darius thanked him for the cloak, and that ended the matter there and
then,--Syloson afterwards holding himself as silly for the impulsive
good nature of his gift.
But at length he learned with surprise that the simple Persian soldier
whom he had benefited was now king of the great Persian empire. He went
to Susa, the capital, and told who he was. Darius had forgotten his
face, but he remembered the incident of the cloak, and offered to pay a
kingly price for the small favor of his humbler days, tendering gold and
silver in profusion to his visitor. Syloson rejected these, but asked
the aid of Darius to make him king of Samos. This the grateful monarch
granted, and sent Syloson an army, with whose aid the island quickly and
quietly fell into his hands.
Yet calamity followed this peaceful conquest. Charilaus, a hot-tempered
and half-mad Samian, who had been given charge of the acropolis, broke
from it at the head of the guards, and murdered many of the Persian
officers who were scattered unguarded throughout the town. The reprisal
was dreadful. The Persian army fell in fury on the Samians and
slaughtered every man and boy in the island, handing over to Syloson a
kingdom of women and infants. Some time afterwards, however, the island
was repeopled by men from without, and Syloson completed his reign in
peace, leaving the sceptre of Samos to his son.
_THE ADVENTURES OF DEMOCEDES._
When Pythagoras, the celebrated Greek philosopher, settled in the
ancient Italian city of Crotona (between 550 and 520 B.C.) there was
living in that town a youthful surgeon who was destined to have a
remarkable history. Democedes by name, the son of a Crotonian named
Calliphon, he strongly inclined while still a mere boy to the study of
medicine and surgery, for which arts that city had then a reputation
higher than any part of Greece.
The boy had two things to contend with, the hard study in his chosen
profession and the high temper of his father. The latter at length grew
unbearable, and the youthful surgeon ran away from home, making his way
to the Greek island of AEgina. Here he began to practise what he had
learned at home, and, though he was very poorly equipped with the
instruments of his profession, he proved far abler and more successful
than the surgeons whom he found in that island. So rapid, indeed, was
his progress that his first year's service brought him an offer from the
citizens of AEgina to remain with them for one year, at a salary of one
talent,--the AEginetan talent being nearly equal to two thousand dollars.
The next year he spent at Athens, whose people had offered him one and
two-thirds talents. In the following year Polycrates of Samos bid higher
still, offering him two talents, and the young surgeon repaired to that
charming island.
Thus far the career of Democedes had been one of steady progress. But,
as Solon told Croesus, a man cannot count himself sure of happiness
while he lives. The good fortune which had attended the runaway surgeon
was about to be followed by a period of ill luck and degradation,
following those of his new patron. In the constant wars of Greece a free
citizen could never be sure how soon he might be reduced to slavery, and
such was the fate of Democedes.
We have already told how Polycrates was treacherously seized and
murdered by the Persian satrap Oroetes. Democedes had accompanied him
to the court of the traitor, and was, with the other attendants of
Polycrates, seized and left to languish in neglect and imprisonment.
Soon afterwards Oroetes received the just retribution for his
treachery, being himself slain. And now a third turn came to the career
of Democedes. He was classed among the slaves of Oroetes, and sent
with them in chains to Susa, the capital of Darius, the great Persian
king.
But here the wheel of fortune suddenly took an upward turn. Darius, the
king, leaping one day from his horse in the chase, sprained his foot so
badly that he had to be carried home in violent pain. The surgeons of
the Persian court were Egyptians, who were claimed to be the first men
in their profession. But, though they used all their skill in treating
the foot of the king, they did him no good. Indeed, they only made the
pain more severe. For seven days and nights the mighty king was taught
that he was a man as well as a monarch, and could suffer as severely as
the poorest peasant in his kingdom. The foot gave him such torture that
all sleep fled from his eyelids, and he and those around him were in
despair.
At length it came to the memory of one who had come from the court of
Oroetes, at Sardis, that report had spoken of a Greek surgeon among
the slaves of the slain satrap. He mentioned this, and the king, to whom
any hope of relief was welcome, gave orders that this man should be
sought and brought before him. It was a miserable object that was soon
ushered into the royal presence, a poor creature in rags, with fetters
on his hands, and deep lines of suffering upon his face; a picture of
misery, in fact.
He was asked if he understood surgery. "No," he replied; saying that he
was a slave, not a surgeon. Darius did not believe him; these Greeks
were artful; but there were ways of getting at the truth. He ordered
that the scourge and the pricking instruments of torture should be
brought. Democedes, who was probably playing a shrewd game, now admitted
that he did have some little skill, but feared to practise his small art
on so great a patient. He was bidden to do what he could, and went to
work on the royal foot.
The little skill of the Greek soon distanced the great skill of the
Egyptians. He succeeded perfectly in alleviating the pain, and soon had
his patient in a deep and refreshing sleep. In a short time the foot
was sound again, and Darius could once more stand without a twinge of
pain.
The king, who had grown hopeless of a cure, was filled with joy, and set
no bounds to his gratitude. Democedes had come before him in iron
chains. As a first reward the king presented him with two sets of chains
of solid gold. He next sent him to receive the thanks of his wives.
Being introduced into the harem, Democedes was presented to the sultanas
as the man who had saved the king's life, and whom their lord and master
delighted to honor. Each of the fair and grateful women, in reward for
his great deed, gave him a saucer-full of golden coins, which were so
many, and heaped so high, that the slave who followed him grew rich by
merely picking up the pieces that dropped on the floor.
Nor did the generosity of Darius stop here. He gave Democedes a splendid
house and furniture, made him eat at his own table, and showed him every
favor at his command. As for the unlucky Egyptian surgeons, they would
all have been crucified for their lack of skill had not Democedes begged
for their lives. He might safely have told Darius that if he began to
crucify men for ignorance and assurance he would soon have few subjects
left.
But with all the favors which Darius granted, there was one which he
steadily refused to grant. And it was one on which Democedes had set his
heart. He wanted to return to Greece. Splendor in Persia was very well
in its way, but to his patriotic heart a crust in Greece was better than
a loaf in this land of strangers. Ask as he might, however, Darius
would not consent. A sprain or other harm might come to him again. What
would he then do without Democedes? He could not let him go.
As asking had proved useless, the wily Greek next tried artifice.
Atossa, the favorite wife of the king, had a tumor to form on her
breast. She said nothing of it for a time, but at length it grew so bad
that she was forced to speak to the surgeon. He examined the tumor, and
told her he could cure it, and would do so if she would solemnly swear
to do in return whatever he might ask. As she agreed to this, he cured
the tumor, and then told her that the reward he wished was liberty to
return to Greece. But he told Atossa that the king would not grant that
favor even to her, and that it could only be had by stratagem. He
advised her how she should act.
When next in conversation with the king, Atossa told him that the
Persians expected him to do something for the glory and power of the
empire. He must add to it by conquest.
"So I propose," he replied. "I have in view an expedition against the
Scythians of the north."
"Better lead one against the Greeks of the west," she replied. "I have
heard much about the beauty of the maidens of Sparta, Athens, Argos, and
Corinth, and I want to have some of these fair barbarians to serve me as
slaves. And if you wish to know more about these Greek people, you have
near you the best person possible to give you information,--the Greek
who cured your foot."
The suggestion seemed to Darius one worth considering. He would
certainly like to know more about this land of Greece. In the end,
after conversing with his surgeon, he decided to send some confidential
agents there to gain information, with Democedes as their guide. Fifteen
such persons were chosen, with orders to observe closely the coasts and
cities of Greece, obeying the suggestions and leadership of Democedes.
They were to bring back what information they could,--and on peril of
their lives to bring back Democedes. If they returned without him it
would be a sorry home-coming for them.
The king then sent for Democedes, told him of the proposed expedition
and what part he was to take in it, but imperatively bade him to return
as soon as his errand was finished. He was bidden to take with him the
wealth he had received, as presents for his father and brothers. He
would not suffer from its loss, since as much, and more, would be given
him on his return. Lastly, orders were given that a store-ship, "filled
with all manner of good things," should be taken with the expedition.
Democedes heard all this with the aspect of one to whom it was new
tidings. Come back? Of course he would. He wished ardently to see
Greece, but for a steady place of residence he much preferred Susa and
the palace of his king. As for the gold which had been given him, he
would not take it away. He wanted to find his house and property on his
return. The store-ship would answer for all the presents he cared to
make.
His shrewd reply left no shadow of doubt in the heart of the king. The
envoys proceeded to Sidon, in Phoenicia, where two armed triremes and
a large store-ship were got ready by their orders. In these they sailed
to the coast of Greece, which they fully surveyed, and even went as far
as Italy. The cities were also visited, and the story of all they had
seen was carefully written down.
At length they arrived at Tarentum, in Italy, not far from Crotona, the
native place of Democedes. Here, at the secret suggestion of the wily
surgeon, the king seized the Persians as spies, and, to prevent their
escape, took away the rudders of their ships. Their treacherous leader
took the opportunity to make his way to Crotona, and here the Persians,
who had been released and given back their ships, found him on their
arrival. They seized him in the market-place, but he was rescued from
them by his fellow-citizens in spite of the remonstrances and threats of
the envoys. The Crotonians even took from them the store-ship, and
forced them to leave the harbor in their triremes.
On their way home the unlucky envoys suffered a second misfortune; they
were shipwrecked and made slaves,--as was the cruel way of dealing with
unfortunates in those days. An exile from Tarentum, named Gillis, paid
their ransom, and took them to Susa,--for which service Darius offered
him any reward he chose to ask. Like Democedes, all he wanted was to go
home. But this reward he did not obtain. Darius brought to bear on
Tarentum all the influence he could wield, but in vain. The Tarentines
were obdurate, and would not have their exile back again. And Gillis was
more honorable than Democedes. He did not lay plans to bring a Persian
invasion upon Greece through his selfish wish to get back to his native
land.
A few words more will tell all else we know about Democedes. His last
words to his Persian companions bade them tell Darius that he was about
to marry the daughter of Milo of Crotona, famed as the greatest wrestler
of his time. Darius knew well the reputation of Milo. He had probably
learned it from Democedes himself. And a Persian king was more likely to
admire a muscular than a mental giant. Milo meant more to him than Homer
or any hero of the pen. Democedes did marry Milo's daughter, paying a
high price for the honor, for the sole purpose, so far as we know, of
sending back this boastful message to his friend, the king. And thus
ends all we know of the story of the surgeon of Crotona.
_DARIUS AND THE SCYTHIANS._
The conquest of Asia Minor by Cyrus and his Persian army was the first
step towards that invasion of Greece by the Persians which proved such a
vital element in the history of the Hellenic people. The next step was
taken in the reign of Darius, the first of Asiatic monarchs to invade
Europe. This ambitious warrior attempted to win fame by conquering the
country of the Scythian barbarians,--now Southern Russia,--and was
taught such a lesson that for centuries thereafter the perilous
enterprise was not repeated.
It was about the year 516 B.C. that the Persian king, with the
ostensible purpose--invented to excuse his invasion--of punishing the
Scythians for a raid into Asia a century before, but really moved only
by the thirst for conquest, reached the Bosphorus, the strait that here
divides Europe from Asia. He had with him an army said to have numbered
seven hundred thousand men, and on the seas was a fleet of six hundred
ships. A bridge of boats was thrown across this arm of the sea,--on
which Constantinople now stands,--and the great Persian host reached
European soil in the country of Thrace.
Happy was it for Greece that the ambitious Persian did not then seek
its conquest, as Democedes, his physician, had suggested. The Athenians,
then under the rule of the tyrant Pisistratus, were not the free and
bold people they afterwards became, and had Darius sought their conquest
at that time, the land of Greece would probably have become a part of
the overgrown Persian empire. Fortunately, he was bent on conquering the
barbarians of the north, and left Greece to grow in valor and
patriotism.
While the army marched from Asia into Europe across its bridge of boats,
the fleet was sent into the Euxine, or Black Sea, with orders to sail
for two days up the Danube River, which empties into that sea, and build
there also a bridge of boats. When Darius with his army reached the
Danube, he found the bridge ready, and on its swaying length crossed
what was then believed to be the greatest river on the earth. Reaching
the northern bank, he marched onward into the unknown country of the
barbarous Scythians, with visions of conquest and glory in his mind.
What happened to the great Persian army and its ambitious leader in
Scythia we do not very well know. Two historians tell us the story, but
probably their history is more imagination than fact. Ctesias tells the
fairy-tale that Darius marched northward for fifteen days, that he then
exchanged bows with the Scythian king, and that, finding the Scythian
bow to be the largest, he fled back in terror to the bridge, which he
hastily crossed, having left a tenth of his army as a sacrifice to his
mad ambition.
The story told by Herodotus is probably as much a product of the
imagination as that of Ctesias, though it reads more like actual
history. He says that the Scythians retreated northward, sending their
wives and children before them in wagons, and destroying the wells and
ruining the harvests as they went, so that little was left for the
invaders to eat and drink. On what the vast host lived we do not know,
nor how they crossed the various rivers in their route. With such
trifling considerations as these the historians of that day did not
concern themselves. There were skirmishes and combats of horsemen, but
the Scythian king took care to avoid any general battle. Darius sent him
a herald and taunted him with cowardice, but King Idanthyrsus sent word
back that if the Persians should come and destroy the tombs of the
forefathers of the Scythians they would learn whether they were cowards
or not.
Day by day the monster Persian army advanced, and day by day its
difficulties increased, until its situation grew serious indeed. The
Scythians declined battle still, but Idanthyrsus sent to his distressed
foe the present of a bird, a mouse, a frog, and five arrows. This
signified, according to the historian, "Unless you take to the air, like
a bird; to the earth, like a mouse; or to the water, like a frog, you
will become the victim of the Scythian arrows."
This warning frightened Darius. In truth, he was in a desperate strait.
Leaving the sick and weak part of his army encamped with the asses he
had brought,--animals unknown to the Scythians, who were alarmed by
their braying,--he began a hasty retreat towards his bridge of boats.
But rapidly as he could march, the swifter Scythians reached the bridge
before him, and counselled with the Ionian Greeks, who had been left in
charge, and who were conquered subjects of the Persian king, to break
down the bridge and leave Darius and his army to their fate.
And now we get back into real history again. The story of what happened
in Scythia is all romance. All we really know is that the expedition
failed, and what was left of the army came back to the Danube in hasty
retreat. And here comes in an interesting part of the narrative. The
fleet of Darius was largely made up of the ships of the Ionians of Asia
Minor, who had long been Persian subjects. It was they who had bridged
the Danube, and who were left to guard the bridge. After Darius had
crossed the bridge, on his march north, he ordered the Ionians to break
it down and follow him into Scythia, leaving only the rowers and seamen
in the ships. But one of his Greek generals advised him to let the
bridge stand under guard of its builders, saying that evil fortune might
come to the king's army through the guile and shrewdness of the
Scythians.
Darius found this advice good, and promised to reward its giver after
his return. He then took a cord and tied sixty knots in it. This he left
with the Ionians. "Take this cord," he said. "Untie one of the knots in
it each day after my advance from the Danube into Scythia. Remain here
and guard the bridge until you shall have untied all the knots; but if
by that time I shall not have returned, then depart and sail home."
Such were the methods of counting which then prevailed. And the
knowledge of geography was not more advanced. Darius had it in view to
march round the Black Sea and return to Persia along its eastern
side,--with the wild idea that sixty days would suffice for this great
march.
Fortunately for him, as the story goes, the Ionians did not obey orders,
but remained on guard after the knots were all untied. Then, to their
surprise, Scythians instead of Persians appeared. These told the Ionians
that the Persian army was in the greatest distress, was retreating with
all speed, and that its escape from utter ruin depended on the safety of
the bridge. They urged the Greeks to break the bridge and retire. If
they should do so the Persians would all be destroyed, and Ionia would
regain its freedom.
This was wise advice. Had it been taken it might have saved Greece from
the danger of Persian invasion. The Ionians were at first in favor of
it, and Miltiades, one of their leaders, and afterwards one of the
heroes of Greek history, warmly advised that it should be done. But
Histiaeus, the despot of Miletus, advised the other Ionian princes that
they would lose their power if their countries became free, since the
Persians alone supported them, while the people everywhere were against
them. They determined, therefore, to maintain the bridge.
But, to rid themselves of the Scythians, they pretended to take their
advice, and destroyed the bridge for the length of a bow-shot from the
northern shore of the stream. The Scythians, thinking that they now had
their enemies at their mercy, departed in search of their foes. That
night the Persian army, in a state of the greatest distress and
privation, reached the Danube, the Scythians having missed them and
failed to check their march. To the horror of Darius and his starving
and terror-stricken men, the bridge, in the darkness, appeared to be
gone. An Egyptian herald, with a voice like a trumpet, was ordered to
call for Histiaeus, the Milesian. He did so, an answer came through the
darkness, and the hopes of the fleeing king were restored. The bridge
was speedily made complete again, and the Persian army hastily crossed,
reaching the opposite bank before the Scythians, who had lost their
track, reappeared in pursuit.
Thus ended in disaster the first Persian invasion of Europe. It was to
be followed by others in later years, equally disastrous to the
invaders. As for the despots of Ionia, who had through selfishness lost
the chance of freeing their native land, they were to live to see,
before many years, Ionia desolated by the Persian tyrant whom they had
saved from irretrievable ruin. We shall tell how this came about, as a
sequel to the story of the invasion of Scythia.
Histiaeus, despot of Miletus, whose advice had saved the bridge for
Darius, was richly rewarded for his service, and attended Darius on his
return to Susa, the Persian capital, leaving his son-in-law Aristagoras
in command at Miletus. Some ten years afterwards this regent of Miletus
made an attempt, with Persian aid, to capture the island of Naxos. The
effort failed, and Aristagoras, against whom the Persians were incensed
by their defeat and their losses, was threatened with ruin. He began to
think of a revolt from Persian rule.
While thus mentally engaged, he received a strangely-sent message from
Histiaeus, who was still detained at Susa, and who eagerly desired to get
away from dancing attendance at court and return to his kingdom.
Histiaeus advised his regent to revolt. But as this message was far too
dangerous to be sent by any ordinary channels, he adopted an
extraordinary method to insure its secrecy. Selecting one of his most
trusty slaves, Histiaeus had his head shaved, and then pricked or
tattooed upon the bare scalp the message he wished to send. Keeping the
slave in seclusion until his hair had grown again, he sent him to
Miletus, where he was instructed simply to tell Aristagoras to shave and
examine his head. Aristagoras did so, read the tattooed message, and
immediately took steps to obey.
Word of the proposed revolt was sent by him to the other cities along
the coast, and all were found ready to join in the attempt to secure
freedom. Not only the coast settlements, but the island of Cyprus,
joined in the revolt. At the appointed time all the coast region of Asia
Minor suddenly burst into a flame of war.
Aristagoras hurried to Greece for aid, seeking it first at Sparta.
Finding no help there, he went to Athens, which city lent him twenty
ships,--a gift for which it was to pay dearly in later years. Hurrying
back with this small reinforcement, he quickly organized an expedition
to assail the Persians at the centre of their power.