I
The result of six years of desultory fighting had fully justified the
forebodings of Archidamus, and the sanguine anticipations of Pericles.
In spite of the terrible ravages of the plague, Athens had easily held
her own against the whole power of the Peloponnesian league. As yet,
however, no decisive advantage had been gained on either side. But in
the seventh year of the war an event occurred which would have enabled
the Athenians, but for their own folly, to conclude an honourable peace.
The ablest of the Athenian generals at this time was Demosthenes,
[Footnote: To be carefully distinguished from the great orator, born
about forty years after the date reached in this chapter (425 B.C.).]
who in the previous year had greatly distinguished himself by a
brilliant campaign in Aetolia. In the following summer he obtained
permission to take passage on board a fleet which was bound on a voyage
to Corcyra and Sicily. He sailed in a private capacity, but he was
authorized to use the ships against the coasts of Peloponnesus, if he
saw any opening which might be utilized in the interests of Athens.
On a rocky promontory, at the northern end of the spacious bay of
Navarino, lies the little town of Pylos, generally believed to have
been the home of the Homeric Nestor. Since the conquest of Messenia by
the Spartans, the town had remained in ruins, and the country for some
distance round was a desert. The natural advantages of the adjacent
coast had already caught the keen eye of Demosthenes, and he had formed
the plan of raising a fortified outpost on the spot, to be held by a
picked troop of the banished Messenians, and thus planting a thorn in
the side of Sparta.
Fortune favoured his design. For on rounding the western headland of
Peloponnesus, the fleet encountered a storm, and was compelled to seek
shelter at Pylos. Demosthenes now urged the admirals to employ their
enforced leisure in fortifying the place. But they repulsed him rudely,
and treated his suggestion with contempt. He next tried to interest the
inferior officers in his project, but meeting with no better success,
he began to fear that this grand opportunity would be thrown away. The
discussion, however, had reached the ears of the soldiers, and having
nothing else to do, they agreed among themselves to pass the time by
building a fort. Choosing a place of great natural strength, where the
rocky coast descends abruptly to the open sea, they went to work with a
will. As they had no tools for stone-cutting, they picked out the
stones, and fitted them together according to their shape; and for want
of hods they carried the mortar, wherever it was required, on their
backs, stooping forward and clasping their hands together behind them,
to prevent it from slipping off. They carried out their self-imposed
task with great energy, and after six days of vigorous labour the fort
was completed, for the natural defences of the site were so strong that
in most places there was no need of a wall. As the weather was now
favourable, the fleet proceeded on its voyage, leaving Demosthenes with
five ships to garrison the fort.
The news of the occupation of Pylos soon reached the Spartans, but at
first they paid little heed, thinking that they could expel the
audacious intruders whenever they chose to exert themselves. Moreover,
they were just then engaged in keeping one of those religious festivals
of which the Spartan calendar was so full, and a good part of their
army was absent in Attica. Agis, however, the Spartan king, and those
under him who were commanding in Attica, took a wiser view of the
situation, and cutting short their operations they led their forces
with all speed back to Sparta. They were the more inclined to do this
as the season was yet early, the weather inclement, and, the corn being
still green, they wanted means to nourish their troops. Thus the
inventive genius of Demosthenes had already proved of signal service to
his country; for this was the shortest of all the Peloponnesian
invasions, lasting only fifteen days.
On the return of their troops from Attica the Spartans sent a small
force to commence the attack on Pylos, and ordered the main body of
their army to follow. There was some discontent among those who had
already been serving abroad at this second levy, and the full muster of
the troops was consequently delayed. In the meantime a message was
despatched to a Peloponnesian fleet then sailing to Corcyra, which at
this time was in a state of revolution, with orders to return at once,
and assist in the campaign against Pylos. Demosthenes was now in
imminent danger, being threatened with an immediate assault by sea and
land, which he had no adequate means of repelling. Having sent off two
of his ships to recall the Athenian squadron from its voyage to
Corcyra, he prepared to defend himself, until the arrival of succour,
as best he could.
The Peloponnesian fleet was the first to arrive, and the Spartans, who
were now present in full force with their allies, determined to make
the most of their time. They hoped, by a simultaneous onslaught of
their army and fleet, to carry the fort before the Athenian ships had
time to return. But in case they should fail in this, they intended to
cripple the movements of the relieving squadron, by blocking the
entrances to the bay. For the long, narrow island of Sphacteria forms a
natural break water, converting the harbour of Navarino into a
land-locked basin, with two narrow passages at the northern and
southern end. [Footnote: The description of Thucydides does not
correspond to the picture of the harbour given in our modern maps. But
in the course of twenty centuries great changes may well have
occurred.] These inlets the Spartans proposed to close, by anchoring
triremes close together, with their prows turned seawards, which they
could easily have done, for at the southern entrance there was only
room for eight or nine vessels to sail abreast, and at the northern
entrance only room for two. This precaution, however, was never carried
out; and the Spartans, as if blinded by fate, adopted another measure,
which led to fatal consequences for themselves. Wishing to keep command
of every spot of land in the neighbourhood of Pylos, they landed a body
of their own men, numbering four hundred and twenty, with the usual
proportion of Helots, on the island, and the same time posted troops at
every assailable point on the opposite coast.
Thinking now that the little garrison at Pylos, surrounded on all sides
by enemies, would fall an easy prey, they sent orders to the fleet to
get under way, and prepared to attack the fort on the land side.
Meanwhile Demosthenes had not been idle: having drawn his three
remaining ships under the shelter of the fort, and protected them in
front by a stockade, he armed the crews with such weapons as he had,
including a number of wicker-shields, taken from a thirty-oared
Messenian galley which had recently come to his assistance with a force
of forty hoplites. Then, having posted the greater part of his troops
for the defence of his position against the Peloponnesian army, he
himself descended with a picked body of sixty hoplites, and took up his
station on the rocky shore. For on this side the defences were weakest,
as the Athenians, in building the fort, had never anticipated an attack
from the sea.
Demosthenes had just time to address a few words of caution and
encouragement to his men, assuring them of victory, if they would only
stand fast, when the Peloponnesian fleet was seen bearing down upon
them; and at the same moment a loud shout from the fort announced that
the garrison was already engaged behind them. The assault was fiercest
at the point where Demosthenes and his men were stationed, and the
Peloponnesians made desperate efforts to effect a landing. But they
were embarrassed by the difficult and rocky coast, which only allowed a
few ships to approach at a time. As fast as one division was beaten
back, another came on, with the white foam spouting round the prows,
and the waters roaring and eddying to the strokes of the gigantic oars,
while the cliffs resounded with the shouts of their comrades in the
ships behind, cheering them on to the attack.
Conspicuous among those who fought on the ships was seen the gallant
figure of Brasidas, who exerted himself, by voice and by example, to
infuse his own heroic spirit into the rest of the crews and their
officers. His ringing tones were heard above the tumult, urging on the
captains and steersmen, when they hung back in fear lest their ships
should be shattered on the rocks. "Spare not these timbers," he cried,
"but let every hull among them go to wreck, rather than suffer the
enemy to violate the soil of Lacedaemon. Where is your loyalty to
Sparta? Have you forgotten the debt which you owe to her? Have at them,
I say, and hurl this fort with its defenders into the sea." Saying this
he ordered the master of his own trireme to beach the vessel, and stood
ready on the gangway, that he might be the first to leap on shore. But
as he attempted to land he was hurled back by the Athenians, and fell
fainting, covered with wounds, on the deck. His shield slipped off his
arm, and dropped into the sea, and having been washed ashore, was
picked up by the Athenians, who used it to adorn the trophy which they
afterwards erected.
After the fall of Brasidas the Peloponnesians still continued their
efforts to effect a landing, but they were baffled by the obstinate
defence of the Athenians, and the rugged and inhospitable coast. It was
a strange reversal of affairs which had been brought about by the
fortune of war. On one side were the Spartans, trained to military
service on land, but now compelled to serve on board a fleet, in order
to obtain a footing on their own territory, and on the other side the
Athenians, whose natural element was the sea, drawn up on land to repel
a naval attack.
Next day the assault was repeated, but again without success. The
Spartans sent for a supply of timber, to construct siege engines,
intending to try and batter down the Athenian wall where it overlooked
the harbour, as at this point there was a better landing-place for the
ships. In this task, however, they were interrupted by the sudden
appearance of the Athenian fleet, now numbering fifty vessels, having
been reinforced by four Chian ships, and six from Naupactus. Finding
the harbour occupied by the Peloponnesians, and the whole coast lined
with troops, they retired for the night to the little island of Prote.
Next day they weighed anchor early, and dividing their fleet, sailed
into the harbour of Navarino by both entrances at once. Though taken by
surprise, the Peloponnesians manned their ships, and as fast as they
were ready put out to meet them; but before their array was complete
they were attacked by the Athenians, who disabled many of their
vessels, captured five, and drove the rest ashore. So complete was the
rout that the Athenians pursued the flying ships into the very interior
of the harbour, and rammed some of them after they had been brought to
land. Others they charged while the crews were still getting on board,
and began to tow off the disabled hulls. But in the heat of victory the
Athenians had pushed their advantage somewhat too far, and they paid
for their audacity by the loss of a considerable number of their men.
For the Lacedaemonians, in wild dismay at the defeat of their ships, by
which their comrades on the island would be cut off from all help, made
desperate exertions to save their fleet, wading into the water in their
heavy armour, and hauling back the vessels as they were being towed
off. In the confined space manoeuvring was impossible, and the
sea-fight had now become a furious hand to hand encounter, as between
two armies on land. After a prolonged struggle, in which both sides
suffered severely, the Spartans succeeded in saving their ships, except
those which had been taken at first, and the Athenians then retired to
their station.
The result of this battle was to give the Athenians complete command of
the sea, for the Peloponnesian fleet was in no condition to renew the
engagement. From their camp on the mainland the Spartans could see the
Athenian triremes rowing round and round the island, and keeping
vigilant watch, to prevent those who were confined there from escaping.
News of the disaster was sent without delay to Sparta, and the
magistrates, recognising the gravity of the crisis, proceeded at once
to Pylos, wishing to inform themselves on the spot, and then decide
what was best to be done. Finding on their arrival that there was no
prospect of rescuing their men on the island, they applied to the
Athenian commanders for a truce, to enable them to send envoys to
Athens, and arrange some terms for the recovery of the imprisoned
Spartans. The Athenians consented, and a truce was made on the
following conditions: The Spartans were to surrender all their fleet,
including any ships of war on the coast of Laconia, to the Athenians,
and to refrain from any attack on the fort, until the return of the
envoys. The Athenians, on their part, agreed to allow provisions to be
sent to the Spartans on the island, all such provision being conveyed
thither under their own inspection, and none by stealth. They further
agreed to carry the envoys to Athens in one of their own triremes, and
to suspend all hostilities until the expiration of the truce. When the
envoys returned, the Peloponnesian ships were to be given back.
It was a proud moment for Athens when the Spartan envoys appeared
before the assembly, bearing the humble petition from her great enemy.
The terms offered by the spokesman of the embassy in the name of Sparta
were simple and concise, peace and friendship with Sparta, in return
for the men shut up on the island. The rest of his speech was made up
of grave moral reflections, such as are generally paraded by those on
the losing side. Let the Athenians beware of abusing their advantage;
though they had the upper hand to-day, they might be brought to their
knees to-morrow. War was a game of hazard, in which the luck was always
changing. Now they had an opportunity of concluding an honourable
peace, and establishing a lasting claim to the gratitude of Sparta. And
if the two leading states of Greece were once united, they could
dictate what terms they pleased to the rest.
The notorious selfishness of Spartan policy is glaringly manifested in
this speech. In their anxiety to recover their own citizens, the
Spartans completely ignored the interests of their allies, and held out
the right hand of fellowship to the people whom they had lately branded
as the oppressors and spoilers of Greece. The Athenians might well
distrust the professions of these perfidious statesmen, who repudiated
their sworn obligations with such cynical levity. The Spartans in
Sphacteria were already, they thought, prisoners of Athens, to be dealt
with as they pleased; and were they to resign this costly prize, in
return for a vague promise of friendship from Sparta? Their answer was
framed on the advice of Cleon: they could not, they said, enter into
any discussion, until the men on the island had surrendered themselves,
and been brought to Athens. Then, if the Spartans agreed to restore to
the Athenians Nisaea and Pegae, [Footnote: The harbour-towns of
Megara.] and some other places which they had held before the Thirty
Years' Truce, peace might be made, and the prisoners restored. The
Spartan envoys were somewhat startled by these demands, which involved
a gross breach of faith to their own allies; so they affected to ignore
the proposal, and suggested a private conference between themselves and
select Athenian commissioners. It is not impossible that the terms
offered, infamous as they were to Sparta, might have been accepted; but
the whole negotiation was frustrated by the violence of Cleon, who, on
hearing the suggestion of the envoys, overwhelmed them with abuse,
accusing them of double-dealing and bad faith. The envoys were
confounded by this specimen of Athenian manners, and seeing that they
were wasting their time to no purpose, they turned their backs on the
city of free speech.
On their return to Pylos the truce expired, and the Spartans demanded
back their ships, but the Athenians refused to restore them, on the
ground of some alleged violation of the conditions laid down. Thereupon
hostilities were resumed with vigour on both sides. The Spartans made
repeated attacks on the fort, and watched for an opportunity of
bringing off their men from the island: and the Athenians kept a
vigilant guard to prevent their escape. During the day two triremes
sailed continually round Sphacteria in opposite directions, and at
night their whole fleet, now raised to the number of seventy by the
arrival of twenty fresh ships, was moored about the island, except on
the exposed side in windy weather.
Before long the Athenians began to feel the difficulties of their
position. They were but scantily supplied with food, and had much
trouble in obtaining water. The only spring to which they had access,
and even that by no means abundant, was in the citadel of Pylos, and
most of them were reduced to scraping the shingle, and thus obtaining a
meagre supply of brackish water. On land their quarters were straitened
and uncomfortable, and they had no proper anchorage for their ships, so
that the crews had to go ashore in turns to get their meals. They were
greatly disappointed to find their task thus prolonged, for they had
supposed that a few days' siege would suffice to starve the imprisoned
Spartans into a surrender, as the island was barren and ill-furnished
with water. But day followed day, and still they waited in vain for any
sign of yielding. For the Spartan magistrates had offered large rewards
to anyone who succeeded in conveying wine, meal, or other portable
provisions, to the island, and many were tempted to run the risk,
especially among the Helots, who were offered their liberty in return
for this service. They put out from various points of the mainland, and
landed under cover of night on the seaward side of the island, choosing
their time when the wind was blowing strong from the sea, which made it
impossible for the Athenian triremes to keep their exposed anchorage.
The Spartan hoplites stood ready on the rocks to help them; and so long
as they could get ashore with their freight, they cared nothing what
happened to their boats, for if they were wrecked, the Spartans had
pledged themselves for the full value. Others, still bolder, swam,
across the harbour, dragging after them leather bags filled with a
mixture of poppy-seed or linseed and honey, [Footnote: Poppy-seed was
valued in ancient medicine as an antidote against hunger, and linseed
against thirst.] and attached to a cord. These were soon detected; but
the other source of supply remained open, and it seemed likely that the
siege would be protracted till winter, when it would have to be given
up.
The Athenians at home were much concerned when they were informed of
this state of affairs, and they began to regret that they had not
accepted the terms offered by Sparta. They were suspicious and uneasy,
and Cleon, on whose advice they had acted, saw himself in danger of
falling a victim to their resentment. But his boundless self-confidence
served him well in this crisis. At first he affected to disbelieve the
report sent from Pylos, and proposed to send commissioners to inquire
into the true state of the case. His motion was carried, and he himself
was nominated as one of the commissioners. Cleon was now placed in an
awkward position: either he would have to confirm the statement of the
messengers from Pylos, and thus make himself ridiculous, or, if he
contradicted them, he would be convicted of falsehood. So he turned
round again, and advised the Athenians, if they believed the report, to
waste no more time, but to order an immediate attack on the island. "If
I were general," [Footnote: The chief civil and military magistrate at
Athens, corresponding to the Roman consul.] he said, with a meaning
glance at Nicias, who was then holding that office, "it would not be
long before these Spartans were brought in chains to Athens. The
Athenians want a _man_ to lead them."
This Nicias, on whom the demagogue had so scornfully reflected, was a
great noble, and the chief political opponent of Cleon. When he heard
the boastful words of his rival, it struck Nicias that there was a fine
opportunity of bringing him to ruin, by thrusting upon him a command
for which he was totally unqualified. Encouraged by the shouts of the
multitude, who were crying to Cleon, "Why don't you go and do it?" he
rose from his place, and proposed that the tanner should be sent in
charge of an expedition to take the men at Sphacteria. At first Cleon
agreed to go, thinking that Nicias was jesting; but when he saw that
the proposal was made seriously, he began to draw back. "It is your
business, not mine," he said to Nicias. "I am not general--you are; why
should I do your work for you?" "Never mind the title," answered
Nicias; "I resign my office on this occasion to you." The dispute grew
hotter and hotter, much to the amusement of the Athenians, who fell
readily into the humour of the situation, and loudly applauded the
proposal of Nicias. The more Cleon objected, the more they shouted that
he should go. Finding that he must make good his words, Cleon at last
plucked up a spirit, and accepted the honour thus contemptuously forced
upon him. "I am not afraid of the Spartans," he declared valiantly.
"Give me the contingent of soldiers from Lemnos and Imbros, the
Thracian peltasts, [Footnote: Light-armed soldiers.] and four hundred
archers, and without taking a single Athenian from the city, within
three weeks I will either bring those Spartans as prisoners to Athens,
or kill them where they are."
There was some laughter among the Athenians at Cleon's vain-glorious
promise; but the more sober-minded were not displeased at his
appointment, expecting that, if he failed, they would be rid of a
nuisance; while, if he succeeded, they would gain an immense advantage
over their enemies. Such, at least, is the comment of the historian;
but he makes no remark on the incredible levity of the Athenians, to
whom the gravest interests of state were matter for mirth and pastime;
and he has not a word of censure for Nicias and his "sober-minded"
partisans, who, in their eagerness to ruin a political opponent, showed
a criminal disregard for the welfare of Athens.