CHAPTER X.

THE BURNING OF ATHENS.

B.C. 480

The officers return to their vessels.--The Greek fleet retire to

Salamis.--The Thessalians.--Their hostility to the Phocaeans.--Defeat of

the Thessalians.--Phocaean stratagem.--A spectral army.--Thessalian

cavalry.--Pitfall for the cavalry.--They are caught in it.--Advance of

the army.--Cruelties and atrocities.--The sacred town of Delphi.--Mount

Parnassus.--Summit of Parnassus.--The Castalian spring.--The

oracle.--Architectural structures.--Works of art.--Inspiration of the

oracle.--Its discovery.--Panic of the Delphians.--They apply to the

oracle.--Response of the oracle.--The prodigy in the

temple.--Discomfiture of the Persians.--The spirit

warriors.--Consternation at Athens.--The inhabitants advised to

fly.--Scenes of misery.--Some of the inhabitants remain.--Situation of

the Acropolis.--Magnificent architectural structures.--Statue of

Minerva.--The Parthenon.--Xerxes at Athens.--Athens burned.--The citadel

taken and fired.--Exaltation of Xerxes.--Messenger sent to Susa.

When the officers of the Persian fleet had satisfied themselves with

examining the battle-field at Thermopylae, and had heard the narrations

given by the soldiers of the terrible combats that had been fought with

the desperate garrison which had been stationed to defend the pass, they

went back to their vessels, and prepared to make sail to the southward,

in pursuit of the Greek fleet. The Greek fleet had gone to Salamis. The

Persians in due time overtook them there, and a great naval conflict

occurred, which is known in history as the battle of Salamis, and was

one of the most celebrated naval battles of ancient times. An account of

this battle will form the subject of the next chapter. In this we are to

follow the operations of the army on the land.

As the Pass of Thermopylae was now in Xerxes's possession, the way was

open before him to all that portion of the great territory which lay

north of the Peloponnesus. Of course, before he could enter the

peninsula itself, he must pass the Isthmus of Corinth, where he might,

perhaps, encounter some concentrated resistance. North of the isthmus,

however, there was no place where the Greeks could make a stand. The

country was all open, or, rather, there were a thousand ways open

through the various valleys and glens, and along the banks of the

rivers. All that was necessary was to procure guides and proceed.

The Thessalians were very ready to furnish guides. They had submitted to

Xerxes before the battle of Thermopylae, and they considered themselves,

accordingly, as his allies. They had, besides, a special interest in

conducting the Persian army, on account of the hostile feelings which

they entertained toward the people immediately south of the pass, into

whose territories Xerxes would first carry his ravages. This people were

the Phocaeans. Their country, as has already been stated, was separated

from Thessaly by impassable mountains, except where the Straits of

Thermopylae opened a passage; and through this pass both nations had been

continually making hostile incursions into the territory of the other

for many years before the Persian invasion. The Thessalians had

surrendered readily to the summons of Xerxes, while the Phocaeans had

determined to resist him, and adhere to the cause of the Greeks in the

struggle. They were suspected of having been influenced, in a great

measure, in their determination to resist, by the fact that the

Thessalians had decided to surrender. They were resolved that they would

not, on any account, be upon the same side with their ancient and

inveterate foes.

The hostility of the Thessalians to the Phocaeans was equally implacable.

At the last incursion which they had made into the Phocaean territory,

they had been defeated by means of stratagems in a manner which tended

greatly to vex and irritate them. There were two of these stratagems,

which were both completely successful, and both of a very extraordinary

character.

The first was this. The Thessalians were in the Phocaean country in great

force, and the Phocaeans had found themselves utterly unable to expel

them. Under these circumstances, a body of the Phocaeans, six hundred in

number, one day whitened their faces, their arms and hands, their

clothes, and all their weapons, with chalk, and then, at the dead of

night--perhaps, however, when the moon was shining--made an onset upon

the camp of the enemy. The Thessalian sentinels were terrified and ran

away, and the soldiers, awakened from their slumbers by these

unearthly-looking troops, screamed with fright, and fled in all

directions, in utter confusion and dismay. A night attack is usually a

dangerous attempt, even if the assaulting party is the strongest, as, in

the darkness and confusion which then prevail, the assailants can not

ordinarily distinguish friends from foes, and so are in great danger,

amid the tumult and obscurity, of slaying one another. That difficulty

was obviated in this case by the strange disguise which the Phocaeans had

assumed. They knew that all were Thessalians who were not whitened like

themselves. The Thessalians were totally discomfited and dispersed by

this encounter.

The other stratagem was of a different character, and was directed

against a troop of cavalry. The Thessalian cavalry were renowned

throughout the world. The broad plains extending through the heart of

their country contained excellent fields for training and exercising

such troops, and the mountains which surrounded it furnished grassy

slopes and verdant valleys, that supplied excellent pasturage for the

rearing of horses. The nation was very strong, therefore, in this

species of force, and many of the states and kingdoms of Greece, when

planning their means of internal defense, and potentates and conquerors,

when going forth on great campaigns, often considered their armies

incomplete unless there was included in them a corps of Thessalian

cavalry.

A troop of this cavalry had invaded Phocis, and the Phocaeans, conscious

of their inability to resist them in open war, contrived to entrap them

in the following manner. They dug a long trench in the ground, and then

putting in baskets or casks sufficient nearly to fill the space, they

spread over the top a thin layer of soil. They then concealed all

indications that the ground had been disturbed, by spreading leaves over

the surface. The trap being thus prepared, they contrived to entice the

Thessalians to the spot by a series of retreats, and at length led them

into the pitfall thus provided for them. The substructure of casks was

strong enough to sustain the Phocaeans, who went over it as footmen, but

was too fragile to bear the weight of the mounted troops. The horses

broke through, and the squadron was thrown into such confusion by so

unexpected a disaster, that, when the Phocaeans turned and fell upon

them, they were easily overcome.

These things had irritated and vexed the Thessalians very much. They

were eager for revenge, and they were very ready to guide the armies of

Xerxes into the country of their enemies in order to obtain it.

The troops advanced accordingly, awakening every where, as they came on,

the greatest consternation and terror among the inhabitants, and

producing on all sides scenes of indescribable anguish and suffering.

They came into the valley of the Cephisus, a beautiful river flowing

through a delightful and fertile region, which contained many cities and

towns, and was filled every where with an industrious rural population.

Through this scene of peace, and happiness, and plenty, the vast horde

of invaders swept on with the destructive force of a tornado. They

plundered the towns of every thing which could be carried away, and

destroyed what they were compelled to leave behind them. There is a

catalogue of twelve cities in this valley which they burned. The

inhabitants, too, were treated with the utmost cruelty. Some were

seized, and compelled to follow the army as slaves; others were slain;

and others still were subjected to nameless cruelties and atrocities,

worse sometimes than death. Many of the women, both mothers and maidens,

died in consequence of the brutal violence with which the soldiers

treated them.

The most remarkable of the transactions connected with Xerxes's advance

through the country of Phocis, on his way to Athens, were those

connected with his attack upon Delphi. Delphi was a sacred town, the

seat of the oracle. It was in the vicinity of Mount Parnassus and of the

Castalian spring, places of very great renown in the Greek mythology.

Parnassus was the name of a short mountainous range rather than of a

single peak, though the loftiest summit of the range was called

Parnassus too. This summit is found, by modern measurement, to be about

eight thousand feet high, and it is covered with snow nearly all the

year. When bare it consists only of a desolate range of rocks, with

mosses and a few Alpine plants growing on the sheltered and sunny sides

of them. From the top of Parnassus travelers who now visit it look down

upon almost all of Greece as upon a map. The Gulf of Corinth is a silver

lake at their feet, and the plains of Thessaly are seen extending far

and wide to the northward, with Olympus, Pelion, and Ossa, blue and

distant peaks, bounding the view.

Parnassus has, in fact, a double summit, between the peaks of which a

sort of ravine commences, which, as it extends down the mountain,

becomes a beautiful valley, shaded with rows of trees, and adorned with

slopes of verdure and banks of flowers. In a glen connected with this

valley there is a fountain of water springing copiously from among the

rocks, in a grove of laurels. This fountain gives rise to a stream,

which, after bounding over the rocks, and meandering between mossy banks

for a long distance down the mountain glens, becomes a quiet lowland

stream, and flows gently through a fertile and undulating country to the

sea. This fountain was the famous Castalian spring. It was, as the

ancient Greek legends said, the favorite resort and residence of Apollo

and the Muses, and its waters became, accordingly, the symbol and the

emblem of poetical inspiration.

The city of Delphi was built upon the lower declivities of the

Parnassian ranges, and yet high above the surrounding country. It was

built in the form of an amphitheater, in a sort of _lap_ in the hill

where it stood, with steep precipices descending to a great depth on

either side. It was thus a position of difficult access, and was

considered almost impregnable in respect to its military strength.

Besides its natural defenses, it was considered as under the special

protection of Apollo.

Delphi was celebrated throughout the world, in ancient times, not only

for the oracle itself, but for the magnificence of the architectural

structures, the boundless profusion of the works of art, and the immense

value of the treasures which, in process of time, had been accumulated

there. The various powers and potentates that had resorted to it to

obtain the responses of the oracle, had brought rich presents, or made

costly contributions in some way, to the service of the shrine. Some had

built temples, others had constructed porches or colonnades. Some had

adorned the streets of the city with architectural embellishments;

others had caused statues to be erected; and others had made splendid

donations of vessels of gold and silver, until at length the wealth and

magnificence of Delphi was the wonder of the world. All nations resorted

to it, some to see its splendors, and others to obtain the counsel and

direction of the oracle in emergencies of difficulty or danger.

In the time of Xerxes, Delphi had been for several hundred years in the

enjoyment of its fame as a place of divine inspiration. It was said to

have been originally discovered in the following manner. Some herdsmen

on the mountains, watching their flocks, observed one day a number of

goats performing very strange and unaccountable antics among some

crevices in the rocks, and, going to the place, they found that a

mysterious wind was issuing from the crevices, which produced an

extraordinary exhilaration on all who breathed it. Every thing

extraordinary was thought, in those days, to be supernatural and divine,

and the fame of this discovery was spread every where, the people

supposing that the effect produced upon the men and animals by breathing

the mysterious air was a divine inspiration. A temple was built over the

spot, priests and priestesses were installed, a city began to rise, and

in process of time Delphi became the most celebrated oracle in the

world; and as the vast treasures which had been accumulated there

consisted mainly of gifts and offerings consecrated to a divine and

sacred service, they were all understood to be under divine protection.

They were defended, it is true, in part by the inaccessibleness of the

position of Delphi, and by the artificial fortifications which had been

added from time to time to increase the security, but still more by the

feeling which every where prevailed, that any violence offered to such a

shrine would be punished by the gods as sacrilege. The account of the

manner in which Xerxes was repulsed, as related by the ancient

historians, is somewhat marvelous. We, however, in this case, as in all

others, transmit the story to our readers as the ancient historians give

it to us.

The main body of the army pursued its way directly southward toward the

city of Athens, which was now the great object at which Xerxes aimed. A

large detachment, however, separating from the main body, moved more to

the westward, toward Delphi. Their plan was to plunder the temples and

the city, and send the treasures to the king. The Delphians, on hearing

this, were seized with consternation. They made application themselves

to the oracle, to know what they were to do in respect to the sacred

treasures. They could not defend them, they said, against such a host,

and they inquired whether they should bury them in the earth, or attempt

to remove them to some distant place of safety.

The oracle replied that they were to do nothing at all in respect to the

sacred treasures. The divinity, it said, was able to protect what was

its own. They, on their part, had only to provide for themselves, their

wives, and their children.

On hearing this response, the people dismissed all care in respect to

the treasures of the temple and of the shrine, and made arrangements for

removing their families and their own effects to some place of safety

toward the southward. The military force of the city and a small number

of the inhabitants alone remained.

When the Persians began to draw near, a prodigy occurred in the temple,

which seemed intended to warn the profane invaders away. It seems that

there was a suit of arms, of a costly character doubtless, and highly

decorated with gold and gems--the present, probably, of some Grecian

state or king--which were hung in an inner and sacred apartment of the

temple, and which it was sacrilegious for any human hand to touch. These

arms were found, on the day when the Persians were approaching, removed

to the outward front of the temple. The priest who first observed them

was struck with amazement and awe. He spread the intelligence among the

soldiers and the people that remained, and the circumstance awakened in

them great animation and courage.

Nor were the hopes of divine interposition which this wonder awakened

disappointed in the end; for, as soon as the detachment of Persians came

near the hill on which Delphi was situated, loud thunder burst from the

sky, and a bolt, descending upon the precipices near the town, detached

two enormous masses of rock, which rolled down upon the ranks of the

invaders. The Delphian soldiers, taking advantage of the scene of panic

and confusion which this awful visitation produced, rushed down upon

their enemies and completed their discomfiture. They were led on and

assisted in this attack by the spirits of two ancient heroes, who had

been natives of the country, and to whom two of the temples of Delphi

had been consecrated. These spirits appeared in the form of tall and

full-armed warriors, who led the attack, and performed prodigies of

strength and valor in the onset upon the Persians; and then, when the

battle was over, disappeared as mysteriously as they came.

In the mean time the great body of the army of Xerxes, with the monarch

at their head, was advancing on Athens. During his advance the city had

been in a continual state of panic and confusion. In the first place,

when the Greek fleet had concluded to give up the contest in the

Artemisian Channel, before the battle of Thermopylae, and had passed

around to Salamis, the commanders in the city of Athens had given up the

hope of making any effectual defense, and had given orders that the

inhabitants should save themselves by seeking a refuge wherever they

could find it. This annunciation, of course, filled the city with

dismay, and the preparations for a general flight opened every where

scenes of terror and distress, of which those who have never witnessed

the evacuation of a city by its inhabitants can scarcely conceive.

The immediate object of the general terror was, at this time, the

Persian fleet; for the Greek fleet, having determined to abandon the

waters on that side of Attica, left the whole coast exposed, and the

Persians might be expected at any hour to make a landing within a few

miles of the city. Scarcely, however, had the impending of this danger

been made known to the city, before the tidings of one still more

imminent reached it, in the news that the Pass of Thermopylae had been

carried, and that, in addition to the peril with which the Athenians

were threatened by the fleet on the side of the sea, the whole Persian

army was coming down upon them by land. This fresh alarm greatly

increased, of course, the general consternation. All the roads leading

from the city toward the south and west were soon covered with parties

of wretched fugitives, exhibiting as they pressed forward, weary and

wayworn, on their toilsome and almost hopeless flight, every possible

phase of misery, destitution, and despair. The army fell back to the

isthmus, intending to make a stand, if possible, there, to defend the

Peloponnesus. The fugitives made the best of their way to the sea-coast,

where they were received on board transport ships sent thither from the

fleet, and conveyed, some to AEgina, some to Salamis, and others to other

points on the coasts and islands to the south, wherever the terrified

exiles thought there was the best prospect of safety.

Some, however, remained at Athens. There was a part of the population

who believed that the phrase "wooden walls," used by the oracle,

referred, not to the ships of the fleet, but to the wooden palisade

around the citadel. They accordingly repaired and strengthened the

palisade, and established themselves in the fortress with a small

garrison which undertook to defend it.

The citadel of Athens, or the Acropolis, as it was called, was the

richest, and most splendid, and magnificent fortress in the world. It

was built upon an oblong rocky hill, the sides of which were

perpendicular cliffs, except at one end, where alone the summit was

accessible. This summit presented an area of an oval form, about a

thousand feet in length and five hundred broad, thus containing a space

of about ten acres. This area upon the summit, and also the approaches

at the western end, were covered with the most grand, imposing, and

costly architectural structures that then existed in the whole European

world. There were temples, colonnades, gateways, stairways, porticoes,

towers, and walls, which, viewed as a whole, presented a most

magnificent spectacle, that excited universal admiration, and which,

when examined in detail, awakened a greater degree of wonder still by

the costliness of the materials, the beauty and perfection of the

workmanship, and the richness and profusion of the decorations, which

were seen on every hand. The number and variety of statues of bronze and

of marble which had been erected in the various temples and upon the

different platforms were very great. There was one, a statue of Minerva,

which was executed by Phidias, the great Athenian sculptor, after the

celebrated battle of Marathon, in the days of Darius, which, with its

pedestal, was sixty feet high. It stood on the left of the grand

entrance, towering above the buildings in full view from the country

below, and leaning upon its long spear like a colossal sentinel on

guard. In the distance, on the right, from the same point of view, the

great temple called the Parthenon was to be seen, a temple which was, in

some respects, the most celebrated in the world. The ruins of these

edifices remain to the present day, standing in desolate and solitary

grandeur on the rocky hill which they once so richly adorned.

When Xerxes arrived at Athens, he found, of course, no difficulty in

obtaining possession of the city itself, since it had been deserted by

its inhabitants, and left defenseless. The people that remained had all

crowded into the citadel. They had built the wooden palisade across the

only approach by which it was possible to get near the gates, and they

had collected large stones on the tops of the rocks, to roll down upon

their assailants if they should attempt to ascend.

[Illustration: THE CITADEL AT ATHENS.]

Xerxes, after ravaging and burning the town, took up a position upon a

hill opposite to the citadel, and there he had engines constructed to

throw enormous arrows, on which tow that had been dipped in pitch was

wound. This combustible envelopment of the arrows was set on fire before

the weapon was discharged, and a shower of the burning missiles thus

formed was directed toward the palisade. The wooden walls were soon set

on fire by them, and totally consumed. The access to the Acropolis was,

however, still difficult, being by a steep acclivity, up which it was

very dangerous to ascend so long as the besiegers were ready to roll

down rocks upon their assailants from above.

At last, however, after a long conflict and much slaughter, Xerxes

succeeded in forcing his way into the citadel. Some of his troops

contrived to find a path by which they could climb up to the walls.

Here, after a desperate combat with those who were stationed to guard

the place, they succeeded in gaining admission, and then opened the

gates to their comrades below. The Persian soldiers, exasperated with

the resistance which they had encountered, slew the soldiers of the

garrison, perpetrated every imaginable violence on the wretched

inhabitants who had fled there for shelter, and then plundered the

citadel and set it on fire.

The heart of Xerxes was filled with exultation and joy as he thus

arrived at the attainment of what had been the chief and prominent

object of his campaign. To plunder and destroy the city of Athens had

been the great pleasure that he had promised himself in all the mighty

preparations that he had made. This result was now realized, and he

dispatched a special messenger immediately to Susa with the triumphant

tidings.

Xerxes Makers of History · 第 10 / 12 章