There was trembling in Greece. 'The Great King', as the Greeks called
the chief potentate of the East, whose domains stretched from the
Indian Caucasus to the Aegaeus, from the Caspian to the Red Sea, was
marshalling his forces against the little free states that nestled amid
the rocks and gulfs of the Eastern Mediterranean. Already had his might
devoured the cherished colonies of the Greeks on the eastern shore of
the Archipelago, and every traitor to home institutions found a ready
asylum at that despotic court, and tried to revenge his own wrongs
by whispering incitements to invasion. 'All people, nations, and
languages,' was the commencement of the decrees of that monarch's court;
and it was scarcely a vain boast, for his satraps ruled over subject
kingdoms, and among his tributary nations he counted the Chaldean,
with his learning and old civilization, the wise and steadfast Jew, the
skilful Phoenician, the learned Egyptian, the wild, free-booting Arab
of the desert, the dark-skinned Ethiopian, and over all these ruled the
keen-witted, active native Persian race, the conquerors of all the
rest, and led by a chosen band proudly called the Immortal. His many
capitals--Babylon the great, Susa, Persepolis, and the like--were names
of dreamy splendor to the Greeks, described now and then by Ionians from
Asia Minor who had carried their tribute to the king's own feet, or
by courtier slaves who had escaped with difficulty from being all too
serviceable at the tyrannic court. And the lord of this enormous empire
was about to launch his countless host against the little cluster of
states, the whole of which together would hardly equal one province of
the huge Asiatic realm! Moreover, it was a war not only on the men but
on their gods. The Persians were zealous adorers of the sun and of fire,
they abhorred the idol worship of the Greeks, and defiled and plundered
every temple that fell in their way. Death and desolation were almost
the best that could be looked for at such hands--slavery and torture
from cruelly barbarous masters would only too surely be the lot of
numbers, should their land fall a prey to the conquerors.
True it was that ten years back the former Great King had sent his best
troops to be signally defeated upon the coast of Attica; but the losses
at Marathon had but stimulated the Persian lust of conquest, and the new
King Xerxes was gathering together such myriads of men as should crush
down the Greeks and overrun their country by mere force of numbers.
The muster place was at Sardis, and there Greek spies had seen the
multitudes assembling and the state and magnificence of the king's
attendants. Envoys had come from him to demand earth and water from each
state in Greece, as emblems that land and sea were his, but each state
was resolved to be free, and only Thessaly, that which lay first in his
path, consented to yield the token of subjugation. A council was held at
the Isthmus of Corinth, and attended by deputies from all the states of
Greece to consider of the best means of defense. The ships of the enemy
would coast round the shores of the Aegean sea, the land army would
cross the Hellespont on a bridge of boats lashed together, and march
southwards into Greece. The only hope of averting the danger lay in
defending such passages as, from the nature of the ground, were so
narrow that only a few persons could fight hand to hand at once, so that
courage would be of more avail than numbers.
The first of all these passes was called Tempe, and a body of troops was
sent to guard it; but they found that this was useless and impossible,
and came back again. The next was at Thermopylae. Look in your map of
the Archipelago, or Aegean Sea, as it was then called, for the great
island of Negropont, or by its old name, Euboea. It looks like a piece
broken off from the coast, and to the north is shaped like the head of
a bird, with the beak running into a gulf, that would fit over it, upon
the main land, and between the island and the coast is an exceedingly
narrow strait. The Persian army would have to march round the edge of
the gulf. They could not cut straight across the country, because the
ridge of mountains called Ceta rose up and barred their way. Indeed, the
woods, rocks, and precipices came down so near the seashore, that in two
places there was only room for one single wheel track between the steeps
and the impassable morass that formed the border of the gulf on its
south side. These two very narrow places were called the gates of the
pass, and were about a mile apart. There was a little more width left
in the intervening space; but in this there were a number of springs of
warm mineral water, salt and sulphurous, which were used for the sick to
bathe in, and thus the place was called Thermopylae, or the Hot Gates. A
wall had once been built across the western-most of these narrow places,
when the Thessalians and Phocians, who lived on either side of it, had
been at war with one another; but it had been allowed to go to decay,
since the Phocians had found out that there was a very steep narrow
mountain path along the bed of a torrent, by which it was possible to
cross from one territory to the other without going round this marshy
coast road.
This was, therefore, an excellent place to defend. The Greek ships
were all drawn up on the farther side of Euboea to prevent the Persian
vessels from getting into the strait and landing men beyond the pass,
and a division of the army was sent off to guard the Hot Gates. The
council at the Isthmus did not know of the mountain pathway, and thought
that all would be safe as long as the Persians were kept out of the
coast path.
The troops sent for this purpose were from different cities, and
amounted to about 4,000, who were to keep the pass against two millions.
The leader of them was Leonidas, who had newly become one of the two
kings of Sparta, the city that above all in Greece trained its sons to
be hardy soldiers, dreading death infinitely less than shame. Leonidas
had already made up his mind that the expedition would probably be his
death, perhaps because a prophecy had been given at the Temple of Delphi
that Sparta should be saved by the death of one of her kings of the race
of Hercules. He was allowed by law to take with him 300 men, and these
he chose most carefully, not merely for their strength and courage,
but selecting those who had sons, so that no family might be altogether
destroyed. These Spartans, with their helots or slaves, made up his own
share of the numbers, but all the army was under his generalship. It is
even said that the 300 celebrated their own funeral rites before they
set out, lest they should be deprived of them by the enemy, since, as we
have already seen, it was the Greek belief that the spirits of the dead
found no rest till their obsequies had been performed. Such preparations
did not daunt the spirits of Leonidas and his men, and his wife, Gorgo,
who was not a woman to be faint-hearted or hold him back. Long before,
when she was a very little girl, a word of hers had saved her father
from listening to a traitorous message from the King of Persia; and
every Spartan lady was bred up to be able to say to those she best loved
that they must come home from battle 'with the shield or on it'--either
carrying it victoriously or borne upon it as a corpse.
When Leonidas came to Thermopylae, the Phocians told him of the mountain
path through the chestnut woods of Mount Ceta, and begged to have
the privilege of guarding it on a spot high up on the mountain side,
assuring him that it was very hard to find at the other end, and that
there was every probability that the enemy would never discover it. He
consented, and encamping around the warm springs, caused the broken wall
to be repaired, and made ready to meet the foe.
The Persian army were seen covering the whole country like locusts, and
the hearts of some of the southern Greeks in the pass began to sink.
Their homes in the Peloponnesus were comparatively secure--had they
not better fall back and reserve themselves to defend the Isthmus of
Corinth? But Leonidas, though Sparta was safe below the Isthmus, had
no intention of abandoning his northern allies, and kept the other
Peloponnesians to their posts, only sending messengers for further help.
Presently a Persian on horseback rode up to reconnoitre the pass. He
could not see over the wall, but in front of it, and on the ramparts, he
saw the Spartans, some of them engaged in active sports, and others in
combing their long hair. He rode back to the king, and told him what he
had seen. Now, Xerxes had in his camp an exiled Spartan Prince, named
Demaratus, who had become a traitor to his country, and was serving
as counsellor to the enemy. Xerxes sent for him, and asked whether his
countrymen were mad to be thus employed instead of fleeing away; but
Demaratus made answer that a hard fight was no doubt in preparation, and
that it was the custom of the Spartans to array their hair with special
care when they were about to enter upon any great peril. Xerxes would,
however, not believe that so petty a force could intend to resist him,
and waited four days, probably expecting his fleet to assist him, but as
it did not appear, the attack was made.
The Greeks, stronger men and more heavily armed, were far better able to
fight to advantage than the Persians, with their short spears and wicker
shields, and beat them off with great ease. It is said that Xerxes three
times leapt off his throne in despair at the sight of his troops being
driven backwards; and thus for two days it seemed as easy to force a
way through the Spartans as through the rocks themselves. Nay, how
could slavish troops, dragged from home to spread the victories of an
ambitious king, fight like freemen who felt that their strokes were to
defend their homes and children!
But on that evening a wretched man, named Ephialtes, crept into the
Persian camp, and offered, for a great sum of money, to show the
mountain path that would enable the enemy to take the brave defenders in
the rear! A Persian general, named Hydarnes, was sent off at nightfall
with a detachment to secure this passage, and was guided through the
thick forests that clothed the hillside. In the stillness of the air, at
daybreak, the Phocian guards of the path were startled by the crackling
of the chestnut leaves under the tread of many feet. They started up,
but a shower of arrows was discharged on them, and forgetting all save
the present alarm, they fled to a higher part of the mountain, and the
enemy, without waiting to pursue them, began to descend.
As day dawned, morning light showed the watchers of the Grecian camp
below a glittering and shimmering in the torrent bed where the shaggy
forests opened; but it was not the sparkle of water, but the shine
of gilded helmets and the gleaming of silvered spears! Moreover, a
Cimmerian crept over to the wall from the Persian camp with tidings that
the path had been betrayed, that the enemy were climbing it, and
would come down beyond the Eastern Gate. Still, the way was rugged and
circuitous, the Persians would hardly descend before midday, and there
was ample time for the Greeks to escape before they could be shut in by
the enemy.
There was a short council held over the morning sacrifice. Megistias,
the seer, on inspecting the entrails of the slain victim, declared,
as well he might, that their appearance boded disaster. Him Leonidas
ordered to retire, but he refused, though he sent home his only son.
There was no disgrace to an ordinary tone of mind in leaving a post that
could not be held, and Leonidas recommended all the allied troops under
his command to march away while yet the way was open. As to himself and
his Spartans, they had made up their minds to die at their post, and
there could be no doubt that the example of such a resolution would do
more to save Greece than their best efforts could ever do if they were
careful to reserve themselves for another occasion.
All the allies consented to retreat, except the eighty men who came from
Mycenae and the 700 Thespians, who declared that they would not desert
Leonidas. There were also 400 Thebans who remained; and thus the whole
number that stayed with Leonidas to confront two million of enemies were
fourteen hundred warriors, besides the helots or attendants on the 300
Spartans, whose number is not known, but there was probably at least one
to each. Leonidas had two kinsmen in the camp, like himself, claiming
the blood of Hercules, and he tried to save them by giving them letters
and messages to Sparta; but one answered that 'he had come to fight, not
to carry letters'; and the other, that 'his deeds would tell all that
Sparta wished to know'. Another Spartan, named Dienices, when told that
the enemy's archers were so numerous that their arrows darkened the sun,
replied, 'So much the better, we shall fight in the shade.' Two of the
300 had been sent to a neighboring village, suffering severely from a
complaint in the eyes. One of them, called Eurytus, put on his armor,
and commanded his helot to lead him to his place in the ranks; the
other, called Aristodemus, was so overpowered with illness that he
allowed himself to be carried away with the retreating allies. It was
still early in the day when all were gone, and Leonidas gave the word to
his men to take their last meal. 'To-night,' he said, 'we shall sup with
Pluto.'
Hitherto, he had stood on the defensive, and had husbanded the lives of
his men; but he now desired to make as great a slaughter as possible,
so as to inspire the enemy with dread of the Grecian name. He therefore
marched out beyond the wall, without waiting to be attacked, and the
battle began. The Persian captains went behind their wretched troops
and scourged them on to the fight with whips! Poor wretches, they were
driven on to be slaughtered, pierced with the Greek spears, hurled into
the sea, or trampled into the mud of the morass; but their inexhaustible
numbers told at length. The spears of the Greeks broke under hard
service, and their swords alone remained; they began to fall, and
Leonidas himself was among the first of the slain. Hotter than ever was
the fight over his corpse, and two Persian princes, brothers of Xerxes,
were there killed; but at length word was brought that Hydarnes was
over the pass, and that the few remaining men were thus enclosed on all
sides. The Spartans and Thespians made their way to a little hillock
within the wall, resolved to let this be the place of their last stand;
but the hearts of the Thebans failed them, and they came towards the
Persians holding out their hands in entreaty for mercy. Quarter was
given to them, but they were all branded with the king's mark as
untrustworthy deserters. The helots probably at this time escaped into
the mountains; while the small desperate band stood side by side on the
hill still fighting to the last, some with swords, others with daggers,
others even with their hands and teeth, till not one living man remained
amongst them when the sun went down. There was only a mound of slain,
bristled over with arrows.
Twenty thousand Persians had died before that handful of men! Xerxes
asked Demaratus if there were many more at Sparta like these, and was
told there were 8,000. It must have been with a somewhat failing heart
that he invited his courtiers from the fleet to see what he had done
to the men who dared to oppose him! and showed them the head and arm of
Leonidas set up upon a cross; but he took care that all his own slain,
except 1,000, should first be put out of sight. The body of the brave
king was buried where he fell, as were those of the other dead. Much
envied were they by the unhappy Aristodemus, who found himself called by
no name but the 'Coward', and was shunned by all his fellow-citizens.
No one would give him fire or water, and after a year of misery, he
redeemed his honor by perishing in the forefront of the battle of
Plataea, which was the last blow that drove the Persians ingloriously
from Greece.
The Greeks then united in doing honor to the brave warriors who, had
they been better supported, might have saved the whole country from
invasion. The poet Simonides wrote the inscriptions that were engraved
upon the pillars that were set up in the pass to commemorate this great
action. One was outside the wall, where most of the fighting had been.
It seems to have been in honor of the whole number who had for two days
resisted--
'Here did four thousand men from Pelops' land
Against three hundred myriads bravely stand'.