The Syracusans and the allies naturally thought that the struggle
would be brought to a glorious end if, after having defeated the
Athenian fleet, they took captive the whole of their great armament,
and did not allow them to escape either by sea or land. So they at
once began to close the mouth of the Great Harbor, which was about a
mile wide, by means of triremes, merchant-vessels, and small boats,
placed broadside, which they moored there. They made every preparation
also for a naval engagement, should the Athenians be willing to hazard
another; and all their thoughts were on a grand scale.
The Athenians, seeing the closing of the harbor and inferring the
intentions of the enemy, proceeded to hold a council. The generals and
officers met and considered the difficulties of their position. The
most pressing was the want of food. For they had already sent to
Catana,[37] when they intended to depart, and stopt the supplies; and
they could get no more unless they recovered the command of the sea.
They resolved therefore to quit their lines on the higher ground and
to cut off by a cross-wall a space close to their ships, no greater
than was absolutely required for their baggage and for their sick;
after leaving a guard there, they meant to put on board every other
man, and to launch all their ships, whether fit for service or not;
they would then fight a decisive battle, and, if they conquered, go to
Catana; but if not, they would burn their ships, and retreat by land
in good order, taking the nearest way to some friendly country,
barbarian or Hellenic.
This design they proceeded to execute, and, withdrawing quietly from
the upper walls, manned their whole fleet, compelling every man of any
age at all suitable for service to embark. The entire number of the
ships which they manned was about a hundred and ten. They put on board
numerous archers and javelin-men, Acarnanians,[38] and other
foreigners, and made such preparations for action as the nature of the
plan imposed upon them by their necessities allowed. When all was
nearly ready, Nicias,[39] perceiving that the soldiers were deprest by
their severe defeat at sea, which was no new experience to them,
while at the same time the want of provisions made them impatient to
risk a battle with the least possible delay, called his men together
and before they engaged exhorted them....
Nicias gave orders to man the ships. Gylippus[40] and the Syracusans
could see clearly enough from the preparations which the Athenians
were making that they were going to fight. But they had also previous
notice, and had been told of the iron grapnels; and they took
precautions against this as against all the other devices of the
Athenians. They covered the prows of their vessels with hides,
extending a good way along the upper part of their sides, so that the
grapnels might slip and find no hold. When all was ready, Gylippus and
the other generals exhorted their men....
When Gylippus and the other Syracusan generals had, like Nicias,
encouraged their troops, perceiving the Athenians to be manning their
ships, they presently did the same. Nicias, overwhelmed by the
situation, and seeing how great and how near the peril was (for the
ships were on the very point of rowing out), feeling too, as men do on
the eve of a great struggle, that all which he had done was nothing,
and that he had not said half enough, again addrest the trierarchs,
and calling each of them by his father's name, and his own name, and
the name of his tribe, he entreated those who had made any reputation
for themselves not to be false to it, and those whose ancestors were
eminent not to tarnish their hereditary fame. He reminded them that
they were the inhabitants of the freest country in the world, and how
in Athens there was no interference with the daily life of any man. He
spoke to them of their wives and children and their fathers' gods, as
men will at such a time; for then they do not care whether their
common-place phrases seem to be out of date or not, but loudly
reiterate the old appeals, believing that they may be of some service
at the awful moment. When he thought that he had exhorted them, not
enough, but as much as the scanty time allowed, he retired, and led
the land-forces to the shore, extending the line as far as he could,
so that they might be of the greatest use in encouraging the
combatants on board ship. Demosthenes,[41] Menander, and Euthydemus,
who had gone on board the Athenian fleet to take command, now quitted
their own station, and proceeded straight to the closed mouth of the
harbor, intending to force their way to the open sea where a passage
was still left.
The Syracusans and their allies had already put out with nearly the
same number of ships as before. A detachment of them guarded the
entrance of the harbor; the remainder were disposed all round it in
such a manner that they might fall on the Athenians from every side at
once, and that their land-forces might at the same time be able to
cooperate whenever the ships retreated to the shore. Sicanus and
Agatharchus commanded the Syracusan fleet, each of them a wing; Pythen
and the Corinthians occupied the center.
When the Athenians approached the closed mouth of the harbor, the
violence of their onset overpowered the ships which were stationed
there; they then attempted to loosen the fastenings. Whereupon from
all sides the Syracusans and their allies came bearing down upon them,
and the conflict was no longer confined to the entrance, but extended
throughout the harbor. No previous engagement had been so fierce and
obstinate. Great was the eagerness with which the rowers on both sides
rushed upon their enemies whenever the word of command was given; and
keen was the contest between the pilots as they maneuvered one against
another. The marines too were full of anxiety that, when ship struck
ship, the service on deck should not fall short of the rest; every one
in the place assigned to him was eager to be foremost among his
fellows. Many vessels meeting--and never did so many fight in so small
a space, for the two fleets together amounted to nearly two
hundred--they were seldom able to strike in the regular manner,
because they had no opportunity of first retiring or breaking the
line; they generally fouled one another as ship dashed against ship in
the hurry of flight or pursuit. All the time that another vessel was
bearing down, the men on deck poured showers of javelins and arrows
and stones upon the enemy; and when the two closed, the marines fought
hand to hand, and endeavored to board. In many places, owing to the
want of room, they who had struck another found that they were struck
themselves; often two or even more vessels were unavoidably entangled
about one, and the pilots had to make plans of attack and defense,
not against one adversary only, but against several coming from
different sides.
The crash of so many ships dashing against one another took away the
wits of the sailors, and made it impossible to hear the boatswains,
whose voices in both fleets rose high, as they gave directions to the
rowers, or cheered them on in the excitement of the struggle. On the
Athenians' side they were shouting to their men that they must force a
passage and seize the opportunity now or never of returning in safety
to their native land. To the Syracusans and their allies was
represented the glory of preventing the escape of their enemies, and
of a victory by which every man would exalt the honor of his own city.
The commanders, too, when they saw any ship backing water without
necessity, would call the captain by his name, and ask, of the
Athenians, whether they were retreating because they expected to be
more at home upon the land of their bitterest foes than upon that sea
which had been their own so long; on the Syracusan side, whether, when
they knew perfectly well that the Athenians were only eager to find
some means of flight, they would themselves fly from the fugitives.
While the naval engagement hung in the balance, the two armies on
shore had great trial and conflict of soul. The Sicilian soldier was
animated by the hope of increasing the glory which he had already won,
while the invader was tormented by the fear that his fortunes might
sink lower still. The last chance of the Athenians lay in their ships,
and their anxiety was dreadful. The fortune of the battle varied; and
it was not possible that the spectators on the shore should all
receive the same impression of it. Being quite close and having
different points of view, they would some of them see their own ships
victorious; their courage would then revive, and they would earnestly
call upon the gods not to take from them their hope of deliverance.
But others, who saw their ships worsted, cried and shrieked aloud, and
were by the sight alone more utterly unnerved than the defeated
combatants themselves. Others again who had fixt their gaze on some
part of the struggle which was undecided, were in a state of
excitement still more terrible; they kept swaying their bodies to and
fro in an agony of hope and fear as the stubborn conflict went on and
on; for at every instant they were all but saved or all but lost. And
while the strife hung in the balance, you might hear in the Athenian
army at once lamentation, shouting, cries of victory or defeat, and
all the various sounds which are wrung from a great host in extremity
of danger. Not less agonizing were the feelings of those on board.
At length the Syracusans and their allies, after a protracted
struggle, put the Athenians to flight, and triumphantly bearing down
upon them, and encouraging one another with loud cries and
exhortations, drove them to the land. Then that part of the navy which
had not been taken in the deep water fell back in confusion to the
shore, and the crews rushed out of the ships into the camp. And the
land-forces, no longer now divided in feeling, but uttering one
universal groan of intolerable anguish ran, some of them to save the
ships, others to defend what remained of the wall; but the greater
number began to look to themselves and to their own safety. Never had
there been a greater panic in an Athenian army than at that moment.
They now suffered what they had done to others at Pylos. For at
Pylos[42] the Lacedæmonians, when they saw their ships destroyed, knew
that their friends who had crossed over into the island of
Sphacteria[43] were lost with them. And so now the Athenians, after
the rout of their fleet, knew that they had no hope of saving
themselves by land unless events took some extraordinary turn.
Thus, after a fierce battle and great destruction of ships and men on
both sides, the Syracusans and their allies gained the victory. They
gathered up the wrecks and bodies of the dead, and sailing back to the
city, erected a trophy. The Athenians, overwhelmed by their misery,
never so much as thought of recovering their wrecks or of asking leave
to collect their dead. Their intention was to retreat that very
night....
On the third day after the sea-fight, when Nicias and Demosthenes
thought that their preparations were complete, the army began to move.
They were in a dreadful condition; not only was there the great fact
that they had lost their whole fleet, and instead of their expected
triumph had brought the utmost peril upon Athens as well as upon
themselves, but also the sights which presented themselves as they
quitted the camp were painful to every eye and mind. The dead were
unburied, and when any one saw the body of a friend lying on the
ground he was smitten with sorrow and dread, while the sick or wounded
who still survived but had to be left were even a greater trial to the
living, and more to be pitied than those who were gone. Their prayers
and lamentations drove their companions to distraction; they would beg
that they might be taken with them, and call by name any friend or
relative whom they saw passing; they would hang upon their departing
comrades and follow as far as they could, and when their limbs and
strength failed them and they dropt behind, many were the imprecations
and cries which they uttered. So that the whole army was in tears, and
such was their despair that they could hardly make up their minds to
stir altho they were leaving an enemy's country, having suffered
calamities too great for tears already, and dreading miseries yet
greater in the unknown future.
There was also a general feeling of shame and self-reproach--indeed
they seemed, not like an army, but like a fugitive population of a
city captured after a siege, and of a great city too. For the whole
multitude who were marching together numbered not less than forty
thousand. Each of them took with him anything he could carry which was
likely to be of use. Even the heavy-armed and cavalry, contrary to
their practise when under arms, conveyed about their persons their own
food, some because they had no attendants, others because they could
not trust them; for they had long been deserting, and most of them
had gone off all at once. Nor was the food which they carried
sufficient, for the supplies of the camp had failed. Their disgrace
and the universality of the misery, altho there might be some
consolation in the very community of suffering, was nevertheless at
that moment hard to bear, especially when they remembered from what
pomp and splendor they had fallen into their present low estate. Never
had a Hellenic army experienced such a reverse. They had come
intending to enslave others, and they were going away in fear that
they would be themselves enslaved. Instead of the prayers and hymns
with which they had put to sea, they were now departing amid appeals
to heaven of another sort. They were no longer sailors but landsmen,
depending, not upon their fleet but upon their infantry. Yet in face
of the great danger which still threatened them all these things
appeared endurable....
When daylight broke and the Syracusans and their allies saw that the
Athenians had departed, most of them thought that Gylippus had let
them go on purpose, and were very angry with him. They easily found
the line of their retreat, and quickly following came up with them
about the time of the midday meal. The troops of Demosthenes were
last; they were marching slowly and in disorder, not having recovered
from the panic of the previous night, when they were overtaken by the
Syracusans, who immediately fell upon them and fought. Separated as
they were from the others, they were easily hemmed in by the Syracusan
cavalry and driven into a narrow space. The division of Nicias was as
much as six miles in advance, for he marched faster, thinking that
their safety depended at such a time, not in remaining and fighting,
if they could avoid it, but in retreating as quickly as they could,
and resisting only when they were positively compelled.
Demosthenes, on the other hand, who had been more incessantly harassed
throughout the retreat, because marching last, was first attacked by
the enemy; now, when he saw the Syracusans pursuing him, instead of
pressing onward, had ranged his army in order of battle. Thus
lingering he was surrounded, and he and the Athenians under his
command were in the greatest danger and confusion. For they were
crusht into a walled enclosure, having a road on both sides and
planted thickly with olive-trees, and missiles were hurled at them
from all points. The Syracusans naturally preferred this mode of
attack to a regular engagement. For to risk themselves against
desperate men would have been only playing into the hands of the
Athenians. Moreover, every one was sparing of his life; their good
fortune was already assured, and they did not wish to fall in the hour
of victory. Even by this irregular mode of fighting they thought that
they could overpower and capture the Athenians.
And so when they had gone on all day assailing them with missiles from
every quarter, and saw that they were quite worn out with their wounds
and all their other sufferings, Gylippus and the Syracusans made a
proclamation, first of all to the islanders, that any of them who
pleased might come over to them and have their freedom. But only a few
cities accepted the offer. At length an agreement was made for the
entire force under Demosthenes. Their arms were to be surrendered but
no one was to suffer death, either from violence or from imprisonment,
or from want of the bare means of life. So they all surrendered, being
in number six thousand, and gave up what money they had. This they
threw into the hollows of shields and filled four. The captives were
at once taken to the city. On the same day Nicias and his division
reached the river Erineus, which he crossed, and halted his army on a
rising ground.
On the following day, he was overtaken by the Syracusans, who told him
that Demosthenes had surrendered, and bade him do the same. He, not
believing them, procured a truce while he sent a horseman to go and
see. Upon the return of the horseman bringing assurance of the fact,
he sent a herald to Gylippus and the Syracusans, saying that he would
agree, on behalf of the Athenian state, to pay the expenses which the
Syracusans had incurred in the war, on condition that they should let
his army go; until the money was paid he would give Athenian citizens
as hostages, a man for a talent. Gylippus and the Syracusans would not
accept these proposals, but attacked and surrounded this division of
the army as well as the other, and hurled missiles at them from every
side until the evening. They too were grievously in want of food and
necessaries. Nevertheless they meant to wait for the dead of the night
and then to proceed. They were just resuming their arms, when the
Syracusans discovered them and raised the pæan. The Athenians,
perceiving that they were detected, laid down their arms again, with
the exception of about three hundred men who broke through the enemy's
guard, and made their escape in the darkness as best they could.
When the day dawned Nicias led forward his army, and the Syracusans
and the allies again assailed them on every side, hurling javelins and
other missiles at them. The Athenians hurried on to the river
Assinarus. They hoped to gain a little relief if they forded the
river, for the mass of horsemen and other troops overwhelmed and
crusht them; and they were worn out by fatigue and thirst. But no
sooner did they reach the water than they lost all order and rushed
in; every man was trying to cross first, and, the enemy pressing upon
them at the same time, the passage of the river became hopeless. Being
compelled to keep close together they fell one upon another, and
trampled each other under foot; some at once perished, pierced by
their own spears; others got entangled in the baggage and were carried
down the stream. The Syracusans stood upon the further bank of the
river, which was steep, and hurled missiles from above on the
Athenians, who were huddled together in the deep bed of the stream and
for the most part were drinking greedily. The Peloponnesians came down
the bank and slaughtered them, falling chiefly upon those who were in
the river. Whereupon the water at once became foul but was drunk all
the same, altho muddy and dyed with blood, and the crowd fought for
it.
At last, when the dead bodies were lying in heaps upon one another in
the water and the army was utterly undone, some perishing in the
river, and any one who escaped being cut off by the cavalry, Nicias
surrendered to Gylippus, in whom he had more confidence than in the
Syracusans. He entreated him and the Lacedæmonians to do what they
pleased with himself, but not to go on killing the men. So Gylippus
gave the word to make prisoners. Thereupon the survivors, not
including, however, a large number whom the soldiers concealed, were
brought in alive. As for the three hundred who had broken through the
guard in the night, the Syracusans sent in pursuit and seized them.
The total of the public prisoners when collected was not great; for
many were appropriated by the soldiers, and the whole of Sicily was
full of them, they not having capitulated like the troops under
Demosthenes. A large number also perished; the slaughter at the river
being very great, quite as great as any which took place in the
Sicilian war; and not a few had fallen in the frequent attacks which
were made upon the Athenians during the march. Still many escaped,
some at the time, others ran away after an interval of slavery, and
all these found refuge at Catana.
The Syracusans and their allies collected their forces and returned
with the spoil, and as many prisoners as they could take with them,
into the city. The captive Athenians and allies they deposited in the
quarries, which they thought would be the safest place of confinement.
Nicias and Demosthenes they put to the sword, altho against the will
of Gylippus. For Gylippus thought that to carry home with him to
Lacedæmon the generals of the enemy, over and above all his other
successes, would be a brilliant triumph. One of them, Demosthenes,
happened to be the greatest foe, and the other the greatest friend of
the Lacedæmonians, both in the same matter of Pylos and Sphacteria....
Those who were imprisoned in the quarries were at the beginning of
their captivity harshly treated by the Syracusans. There were great
numbers of them, and they were crowded in a deep and narrow place. At
first the sun by day was scorching and suffocating, for they had no
roof over their heads, while the autumn nights were cold, and the
extremes of temperature engendered violent disorders. Being cramped
for room, they had to do everything on the same spot. The corpses of
those who had died from their wounds, exposure to the weather, and the
like lay heaped one upon another. The smells were intolerable; and the
prisoners were at the same time afflicted by hunger and thirst. During
eight months they were allowed only about half a pint of water and a
pint of food a day.[44] Every kind of misery which could befall man in
such a place befell them. This was the condition of all the captives
for about ten weeks. At length the Syracusans sold them, with the
exception of the Athenians and of any Sicilian or Italian Greeks who
had sided with them in the war. The whole number of the public
prisoners is not accurately known, but they were not less than seven
thousand.
Of all the Hellenic actions which took place in this war, or indeed of
all Hellenic actions which are on record, this was the greatest--the
most glorious to the victors, the most ruinous to the vanquished; for
they were utterly and at all points defeated, and their sufferings
were prodigious. Fleet and army perished from the face of the earth;
nothing was saved, and of the many who went forth few returned home.
Thus ended the Sicilian expedition.