HELMET AND SPEAR
_STORIES FROM THE WARS OF
THE GREEKS AND ROMANS_
By the
REV. A.J. CHURCH, M.A.
Sometime Professor of Latin in University College, London
Author of "Stories from Homer," etc.
"Yea, but of war the righteous last event
In highest Heaven is born,
And from great Zeus with saving power is sent."
Aeschylus, _Seven against Thebes_.
NEW YORK
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
66 Fifth Avenue
1900
[Illustration: Flight of the Persians after Marathon.]
PREFACE
I have told again in this volume some familiar stories, using mostly
the original authorities, but availing myself, where it was possible,
of the help of Plutarch, whose biographies are always rich in
picturesque details. These narratives never lose their interest, and
they have this special significance, that they illustrate what we all
at least desire to believe, that results of abiding good come out of
the losses and sorrows of war. I have sought to draw out this thought
with some detail in my Epilogue.
A.J.C.
Ightham, Sevenoaks.
_September 8, 1900._
CONTENTS
_BOOK I_
GREECE AND PERSIA. THE DEFENCE
PAGE
I. THE MEN OF MARATHON 2
II. THE LION KING 11
III. IN THE STRAITS 21
IV. THE WOODEN WALLS 29
V. THE BATTLES ON THE PLAIN AND ON THE SHORE 44
_BOOK II_
GREECE AND CARTHAGE
I. THE LORD OF SYRACUSE 65
II. THE STORM FROM AFRICA 75
III. DIONYSIUS THE TYRANT 99
IV. THE DELIVERER FROM CORINTH 110
_BOOK III_
GREECE AND PERSIA. THE ATTACK
I. THE FIGHT ON THE RIVER 123
II. THE IRRESISTIBLE PHALANX 135
III. THE ARMY OF THE HUNDRED PROVINCES 143
_BOOK IV_
ROME AND CARTHAGE
I. THE SERVANTS OF MARS 154
II. FOR THE RULE OF THE SEA 159
III. THE MARTYR PATRIOT 166
IV. THE SONS OF LIGHTNING 174
V. THE AVALANCHE FROM THE ALPS 183
VI. THE DISASTER AT THE LAKE 194
VII. THE OVERTHROW AT CANNÆ 202
VIII. THE SECRET MARCH 213
IX. HANNIBAL'S LAST BATTLE 224
X. THE BLOTTING OUT OF CARTHAGE 232
_BOOK V_
ROME AND THE BARBARIANS. THE RISE
I. THE DAY OF ALLIA 242
II. APOLLO THE DEFENDER 253
III. THE SWARM FROM THE NORTH 261
IV. BEYOND THE PYRENEES 275
V. ACROSS EUPHRATES 286
VI. THE CONQUESTS OF CÆSAR 302
VII. FURTHEST BRITAIN 323
VIII. BEYOND THE RHINE 331
IX. THE LAST ADVANCE 337
_BOOK VI_
ROME AND THE BARBARIANS. THE DECLINE
I. A CENTURY OF DISGRACE 343
II. A CENTURY OF REVIVAL 357
III. THREE DEADLY BLOWS 363
EPILOGUE 377
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
FLIGHT OF THE PERSIANS AFTER MARATHON _Frontispiece_
TIMOLEON HOLDING THE FORD OF THE CRIMESSUS 118
THE BATTLE OF ISSUS 140
THE OVERTHROW OF CANNÆ 210
DEFEAT OF THE CIMBRI IN THE BATTLE AT THE
WAGGONS 272
CRASSUS DEFEATED BY THE PARTHIANS 300
TRAJAN BESIEGING A DACIAN FORT 340
ATTILA AND LEO 374
To
MY DAUGHTERS
_BOOK I_
GREECE AND PERSIA. THE DEFENCE
I. THE MEN OF MARATHON
We may say of wars what a famous philosopher said of revolutions, that
they happen about little things, but spring from great causes. When
Herodotus at the beginning of his History proceeds to put on record the
grounds of the great feud between the Greeks and the Barbarians, he
tells us of various outrages committed by one party or the other. The
Phœnicians began by carrying off Io, daughter of Inachus; the Greeks
retaliated by landing at Tyre and bearing away the king's daughter
Europé. This they followed by the capture of Medea, a princess of
Colchi. When Paris of Troy ran away with the fair Helen from Sparta he
was only setting the account straight. It was then that, according to
the Persian sages, with whom Herodotus seems to agree, the Greeks made
a fatal mistake. They actually led a great army into Asia to recover a
worthless woman, though "men of sense care nothing about such people."
The fact is that the Greeks, as a very enterprising and active race,
came into frequent collision with their Eastern neighbours. We catch
glimpses of this in very remote times. To these, however, we need not
go back. Towards the end of the eighth or early in the seventh century
B.C., the kings of Lydia began to encroach on their Greek neighbours
and conquered city after city. Crœsus, who was the last of the dynasty,
had made himself master of all of them before he was himself overthrown
by Cyrus the Persian. This event meant nothing for the Greeks but a
change of masters, and this was not a change for the better. Lydians
and Greeks had long been neighbours, and could contrive to live on
tolerable terms. The Persians were strangers from a remote country, and
were of a harsher temper. In 502 B.C. a general rebellion took place,
in the course of which Sardis, the local capital of the Persians, was
burnt. A contingent of Athenian troops took part in this affair, and
their presence was the immediate cause of the great struggle that
followed. The war between Greece and Persia lasted, with intervals of
doubtful peace, something less than 180 years. The first great conflict
was at Marathon.
In the late summer of 490 B.C. the Persian army landed at the Bay of
Marathon, distant from Athens about twenty miles as the crow flies,
about twenty-five by the only road practicable for wheeled conveyances.
Of the Persian numbers we know nothing. Herodotus, who is our best
authority (born in 480, he probably talked with men who had fought
in the battle), gives no figures. Later writers speak of impossible
numbers, 600,000 being the largest, 110,000 the smallest estimate. To
carry even 110,000 across the Ægean sea would have been a heavy task.
If a guess has to be made, one may venture to say 60,000. The Athenians
numbered 10,000, and they had with them 1,000 men from Platæa, a little
Bœotian town, which they had recently taken under their protection.
The Plain of Marathon is about six miles long from south-west to
north-east, and in breadth varies from two and a half to one and
a-half miles. On the north-east it is bounded by a great marsh, which
is divided from the sea by a narrow slip of land. There is another
smaller marsh on the south-west. Along the edge of this swamp ran the
road to Athens. It was probably the immediate object of Datis, the
Persian general, to seize this road, and of the Athenian commanders to
protect it. Their right wing rested on the seaward slope of what is now
called Agrieliki, the north-eastern spur of Pentelicus. About a mile
from this may still be seen the remains of the mound which was raised
over the bones of the Athenians slain in the battle. It is probable
that this marks the spot where the fight raged most fiercely. If this
is so, the Persian lines must have been advanced to within a short
distance of the rising ground.
The Athenians, on learning the actual approach of the Persian forces,
had sent a swift runner to Sparta to beg for help. The man reached
Sparta, a distance of about one hundred and forty miles, in less than
forty-eight hours ("on the second day" is the expression). The Spartans
promised to come, but could not start, they said, till after the
full moon, which was then five days off. The question then among the
Athenian generals--there were ten in number and had each his day of
command--was whether they should fight at once or wait for the Spartan
contingent. The ten generals who shared the command of the army were
equally divided in opinion. But Miltiades, the most distinguished of
their number, was eager for instant action, and succeeded in winning
over to his views Callimachus the Polemarch, with whom it lay, in case
of an equal division, to give the casting vote. We shall see that he
had good reasons for his action, and that his promptitude saved Athens;
and, we may say, Greece.
The centre of the Persian line of battle was held by the native
Persians and Sacæ, these latter a tribe now represented by the
Turcomans. Of the rest of the formation we are told nothing. Some
cavalry they had, but it is not mentioned as taking any part in the
battle. It has been conjectured that it had not been disembarked when
the battle was fought. It would certainly have been difficult to get
the horses on board again, and if any number of them had been captured,
we should probably have heard something about it. The Athenian line was
drawn up so as to be equal in length to the Persian. To effect this it
was, of course, necessary to make it very thin in parts. This was the
case in the centre, where there were but two or three files. No light
armed soldiers, no archers, no cavalry were present. All were heavy
armed men with a few slaves in attendance. The right wing was commanded
by Callimachus; the Platæans were on the left.
There was, as has been said, a space of a mile between the two armies.
Miltiades ordered the Athenians to cross this at a run. Such a thing
had never been done before in regular warfare. It was an amazing feat
of strength, for the men were in heavy armour. Not less remarkable
was the courage of the movement, for in those days the Greeks had not
learned to look down upon the Persians. To the enemy the charge seemed
to be the act of madmen; but they must have felt that such madmen
were dangerous enemies, and must have been shaken in the confidence
with which they had looked forward to victory. Still they stood their
ground, and met their assailants in hand-to-hand fight. They even
broke the centre of the Athenian line, which, as has been said, was
but two or three files deep. Herodotus even says that "they pursued
them into the middle country," a curious phrase, seeing that the battle
was fought only a mile or so from the sea shore. But in hand-to-hand
fighting, when the conditions were at all equal, the Persians were no
match, either in training or in equipment, for their adversaries. The
poet Æschylus, himself "a man of Marathon," the proudest title which
an Athenian could bear, speaks of the war of the Persian against the
Greek as the battle of the bow against the spear. In the _Persæ_, the
drama which celebrates the crushing defeat of Persia in its second
assault on Greece, he makes the chorus, consisting of the Great King's
councillors, boast of how their lord would bid
"The arrows' iron hail advance
Against the cumbrous moving lance;"
a happy stroke of irony when it was known that the lance had prevailed
over the arrow. It certainly prevailed that day. Both the wings were
victorious in the shock of arms, and when they had put to flight the
ranks opposed to them they turned to restore the fortune of the day in
the centre. This they soon accomplished. Before long the whole Persian
line was in rapid retreat. Pausanias says that many of the fugitives
rushed into the marsh, and, indeed, that the greater part of their loss
was thus caused.
Miltiades, anxious to complete his victory, followed up the flying
enemy, and endeavoured to cut off his retreat. Here he was less
successful, and, indeed, incurred serious loss. In the attempt to burn
the Persian ships not a few distinguished Athenians fell. The Polemarch
and another of the generals were among them; so was a brother of the
poet Æschylus, who, having laid hold of one of the ships, had his hand
cut off by an axe, and died of the wound. The Persians contrived to get
away, not losing more than seven of their ships, but leaving behind
them in their richly furnished tents an ample booty for the conquerors.
Athens, however, was not yet safe. Hippias, who along with his brother
had once held despotic power in the city, and had been driven into
exile twenty years before, had come with the Persian army, hoping
that his friends--for he still had a party that plotted for his
return--would move in his favour. They did not altogether fail him.
When the Persians had re-embarked, a signal--a polished shield flashing
in the sunlight--was perceived on the summit of Pentelicus. This was
to indicate that the Persians should take advantage of the absence of
the army and sail round to Athens, and that the party of Hippias was
ready to act. Part of the fleet accordingly took the direction of Cape
Sunium, which it would have to round before it could reach Athens.
Miltiades seems to have been aware of what was intended, and at once
gave orders to march back to Athens with all haste. This was done, and
the traitors were foiled. The Persian fleet, it will be seen from the
map, would have to make a circuit of about sixty miles, while the army
would have to march less than half that distance.
The Persian loss is put down by Herodotus at 6,200, a moderate figure
which is very probably near the truth. Of the Athenians, one hundred
and ninety-two were slain. They were buried on the field of battle,
and a mound heaped over their remains. On the top of this were placed
ten stone pillars, one for each of the Athenian tribes, inscribed with
the names of the slain. An eleventh pillar commemorated the Platæans,
a twelfth the slaves who fell in the great victory. After the death of
Miltiades a monument was erected to him on the same spot. The pillars
have long since perished, but the mound remains. It is thirty feet
high and about 200 yards in circumference. It was excavated in 1890-91
by order of the Greek Government, and found to contain human remains,
with pottery of the very period of the battle. Writing about six
centuries later, Pausanias says, "Here every night you may hear horses
neighing and men fighting," and adds that it brings bad luck to go out
of curiosity, but that "with him who unwittingly lights upon it by
accident the spirits are not angry." The same tradition lingers about
many of the great battlefields of the world. Shepherds who fed their
flocks on the plains of Troy saw spectres in armour, and conspicuous
among them the spirit of the great Achilles. The scenes of the great
battles of Attila and Charlemagne are still said to be thus haunted.
It only remains to say that 2,000 Spartans arrived on the day after the
battle, that they went to the field of battle to see the Persian dead,
and after greatly praising the Athenians, returned home.
II
THE LION KING
Darius was not by any means disposed to take his repulse at Marathon as
final. On the contrary, he at once set to work on making preparations
for a new expedition, which should this time be one of overwhelming
force, and which he determined to lead in person. A revolt which broke
out in Egypt probably delayed him for a time. Anyhow, he died in 485
before his preparations were complete. He had reigned for thirty-six
years and was probably in his sixty-eighth year. Xerxes, the eldest
of the sons born after his accession to the throne, succeeded him
without any opposition. He is said to have been averse to the scheme
of an invasion, but was persuaded by those who were interested in
promoting it. However this may be, the preparations were not seriously
interrupted. The Egyptian insurrection was put down, and in the autumn
of 481 the army intended for the invasion of Greece was assembled at
Sardis. The story of the events that followed must be sought elsewhere,
for I am not attempting to give a narrative of the Persian war. It
must suffice to say that by August, 490, the Persian army had occupied
Thessaly. It was at the famous pass which leads from this region into
Locris that the Greeks made their first stand.
Thermopylæ (the Hot Gates) consisted of two narrow passes, neither
of them of greater width than one wheeled carriage would require,
caused by the near approach of Mount Œta to the sea, or rather to an
impassable morass which here formed the coast-line. (It is well to
remark that considerable changes have taken place in the character of
the country, the coast-line, in particular, having receded a long way
eastward.) The easternmost of the two passes was that to which the name
properly belonged, for here there were actual hot springs, dedicated to
Hercules, and supplying medicinal baths. Between the two passes (the
distance of a mile) the mountain receded from the sea, leaving a level
space of about half a mile broad. At Thermopylæ proper there was a
wall built by the Locrians, but at the time of which we are speaking it
had fallen into ruins.
It was here that Leonidas, one of the two kings of Sparta, took up his
position, late, it would seem, in July. He had with him 300 Spartans,
2,500 soldiers from other parts of the Peloponnesus, a contingent of
700 from Thespiæ, one of the Bœotian towns, which dissented strongly
from the pro-Persian views of their countrymen, and 400 Thebans, who
came on compulsion. Thebes did not venture to refuse the demands of
Leonidas while their Persian friends were still a long way off. He was
also joined by contingents of the Locrians and Phocians. Both tribes
had given in or were about to give in their submission to the Persians,
but probably preferred the success of the Greeks. In any case, they
were not prepared to resist the Greek commander-in-chief, present as he
was with a much superior force.
Leonidas at once strengthened his position by repairing the half-ruined
wall by the Hot Springs. But he learnt that Thermopylæ was not the only
way by which access could be had from northern to southern Greece.
The Phocians informed him that there was a mountain path which led
from a point beyond the westernmost pass to another point beyond the
defile of the Hot Springs. But they promised that they would guard it.
The fact came, of course, to the knowledge of the troops generally,
and greatly discouraged them. They even wished to abandon Thermopylæ
altogether. Those that came from the Peloponnese were especially
urgent, believing that they had a much better position for defence
in the Isthmus of Corinth. Leonidas refused to retreat, but he sent
messengers to the various Greek States with an urgent demand for
reinforcements. The forces that he had with him were wholly unequal, he
said, to cope with such an army as the Persians had at their command.
Xerxes, who had encamped within sight of Thermopylæ, sent a horseman
to reconnoitre the position of Leonidas. The Spartans were on guard
that day in front of the wall, and the man observed that some were
engaged in athletic exercises, while others were combing their long
hair. Demaratus, an exiled king of Sparta, who was with Xerxes, when
questioned about the meaning of this behaviour, told him that his
countrymen were particularly careful with their toilet when engaged
in any dangerous enterprise, and that he must expect a desperate
resistance. "You have to deal," he went on, "with the first city of
Greece, and with her bravest men." "But how can so small a company
contend with mine," asked Xerxes, who had not yet learnt to doubt his
big battalions. The king was unwilling to believe him, and waited for
four days in the expectation that the Greeks would think better of
their purpose to resist, and would retire without a conflict.
On the fifth day, finding that the Greeks were still in their
positions, Xerxes sent the Medes and the men of Cissia (now Khuzistan)
with instructions to take the Greeks alive and bring them into his
presence. These troops rushed with the greatest courage to the attack.
Many were slain, for indeed they were no match for the Greeks in
hand-to-hand fighting, but others stepped into their places. The
struggle went on during the whole day, with no result except heavy
loss to the assailants. On the morrow Xerxes sent his Persian _corps
d'élite_, which went by the name of the "Immortals," to the attack,
confident that they would be able to force the pass. They met with
no better success. Their spears were shorter than those used by the
Greeks, and the narrowness of the battlefield did not allow them
to take advantage of their superiority in numbers. Herodotus makes
special mention of the practised skill which the Spartans displayed.
One of their methods was to feign flight, lure the assailants on, and
then turn on them with deadly effect. Vast numbers of the Persians
were slain; the Greeks also suffered some loss, for the best troops of
the East could not have fought wholly in vain, but this loss was very
small. Thrice during the day's engagement the Persian king is said to
have leapt from the seat from which he watched the combat in terror for
his army.
Yet another day was spent in a fruitless assault on the Greek position.
The Persians hoped to wear out the enemy by incessant attacks. Some
must be slain or wounded, and when the total number was so small, even
a small loss must tell upon them in the end. As a matter of fact,
however, the strength of the Greeks was not sensibly impaired. The
space of ground that had to be held was very small, and the Greeks
could change their men actually engaged at frequent intervals.
The treachery of a native of Malis, a little Dorian state in the heart
of the mountains, relieved Xerxes of his perplexity. He offered, for
a reward, to show a mountain path by which the Greek position could
be turned. The name of this wretch, on whose head a price was set by
the General Council of the Greek States, was Ephialtes. It is doubtful
whether the secret could have been long kept; but there seems to have
been a general agreement that Ephialtes was the guilty man, though
other names were mentioned.
Xerxes willingly purchased the secret, and entrusted the task of
outflanking the Greek position to the Immortals. They started at dusk
and marched all night. The Phocian guards of the path seem to have
neglected to place any outposts, and were not aware of the approach of
the enemy till the crackling of the leaves under their feet, carried
through the still air of night, gave them warning. They started up from
their bivouack at the sound, and the Persians, surprised at the sight
of an enemy whose presence they had not expected, halted. The Phocians
seem not to have attempted to hold the path, but retreated to the crest
of the hill and then made ready to defend themselves. The Persians left
them alone, and continued their march.
The Greeks at Thermopylæ had by this time received warning of what had
happened. The soothsayer attached to the force is said to have read in
the victims which he examined a prognostic of their fate. More definite
information came from scouts who had been out on the hills, and who
now came hurrying into the camp with the news. A council of war was
hastily held. It could not agree, but the result was that the majority
of the contingents retreated. Whether they did this with or without
the orders of Leonidas is not certain. It is one of the matters about
which it is almost impossible to arrive at the truth. Herodotus thinks
that they were ordered to retire by Leonidas because he saw that they
were unwilling to stay. This has a look of probability. As for Leonidas
himself and his Spartans, they elected to stay. The inflexible military
honour of their commonwealth forbade retreat. The seven hundred
Thespians refused to depart, and must be allowed the glory of a still
more heroic courage.[1] The Theban contingent was detained against
its will. The soothsayer Megistias--his name ought to be preserved no
less carefully than that of the traitor Ephialtes--refused to depart,
though being not a Spartan, but an Acamanian by birth, he might have
done so without discredit, but he sent away his only son. The name of
the Thespian leader ought also to have its place on the roll of honour.
It was Demophilus.
In the forenoon the Persians began a double attack, in front and in
rear. They had seen such proofs of Greek prowess that the men had to
be driven into battle by the whip. As for the Greeks, they changed
their tactics. Leaving the pass of the Hot Springs and the wall, they
advanced into the open space. Hope of escape or victory had been given
up. They would fight where they could sell their lives most dearly.
And dearly did they sell them. Crowds of the Persians fell; many were
trampled under foot by their comrades; many more were thrust into the
marsh that bordered the road on the side of the sea. Among the slain
were two brothers of the king. The Spartans and Thespians fought till
their spears were broken. Leonidas seems to have fallen early in
the day, and there was a furious struggle for the possession of his
body. Four times did the barbarians carry it off, and four times was
it recovered. As the day drew on the Immortals came upon the scene.
Aware of their approach, the Greeks retreated to the pass and prolonged
their resistance to the very uttermost. When their weapons failed
them they used their hands and even their teeth. But the Persians
now surrounded them and showered arrows and all kinds of missiles
upon them. They perished to a man. One more name from among the three
hundred Spartans must be preserved--Dieneces, who seems to have been
a wit as well as a warrior. When a man of Trachis told him that the
Persians were so numerous that their arrows would darken the sun, "'Tis
well," he replied, "stranger; then we shall fight in the shade." One
of the contingent was absent. He and a comrade had been lying sick of
ophthalmia at a neighbouring village. They could not agree as to what
should be done. One buckled on his armour and bade his attendant helot
lead him--for he could not see--to the battlefield. The helot did so,
and then turned and fled. His master plunged into the thick of the
fight and fell. The other sick man returned to Sparta. There no one
would give him light to kindle his fire, or speak to him. He wiped away
the reproach by falling, after prodigies of valour, at Platæa.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: Canon Rawlinson does not show himself as acute as usual
when he suggests that this splendid resolve of the Thespians was due to
an ambition of dispossessing Thebes from the headship of the Bœotian
confederacy. Mr. Grote's remark that they knew that they must be left
homeless is more to the point.]
III
IN THE STRAITS
While the army of the allied Greeks was holding the pass of Thermopylæ,
their fleet occupied Artemisium. This was a promontory at the northern
end of the island of Eubœa, a small stretch of coast on either side of
the actual cape being known by the same name. The Persian attack was
being made both by land and sea, and the Greek plan of defence was to
check it at two points which were as nearly as possible in a line.
Both positions were liable to be turned. The danger at Artemisium was
even greater than at Thermopylæ, for there was nothing to prevent the
Persian fleet from sailing down the east coast of Eubœa. Indeed we
shall see that this was done, though, as it turned out, without any ill
result to the Greeks. It is clear that the officers in command of the
fleet were quite as uneasy as some of the army leaders at Thermopylæ,
nor was there any one who could exercise the control that Leonidas, in
virtue of his commanding personality and his rank as a Spartan king,
exercised over the allies.
An event of no great importance turned this uneasiness into panic. Two
out of three ships which had been detached to keep a look out were
captured by an advanced Persian squadron of ten ships. In consequence
of this disaster, the fleet hastily retreated some fifty miles to the
south to a spot where the channel between the mainland and Eubœa is at
its narrowest. It would probably have gone still further south but for
the heavy loss which the Persian fleet suffered during a four days'
storm. No less than four hundred ships were destroyed, and with them an
uncounted multitude of men. The Greeks were so encouraged by the loss
which had befallen the enemy, that they returned in all haste and took
up their former station. Hence the battle of Artemisium.
The first incident was a Greek success. The Persian fleet took up its
position in the great natural harbour which is now known as the Gulf
of Volo. Fifteen ships belonging to it lagged so far behind the rest,
that by the time they reached the south-eastern point of the gulf the
main body had rounded it and were out of sight. But the Greek fleet was
full in view; they mistook it for their own, sailed straight towards
it, and were captured without a struggle. Notwithstanding this stroke
of good fortune the Greek captains were full of fears. Even after the
losses caused by the storm, the Persian fleet greatly outnumbered their
own. They had two hundred and eighty ships, reckoning nine fifty-oars
with the larger triremes or "three-bankers"; the Persians must have had
more than twice as many. The question of retreat again came up, and
seemed very likely to be decided in the affirmative. A different result
was brought about by a proceeding curiously characteristic of Greek
ways of acting and thinking. The people of Eubœa were in despair at the
prospect of being deserted. It would be something, they thought, if
they could secure a few days' grace in which to remove their portable
property to a place of safety. They went to Eurybiades, the Spartan
admiral, who was in supreme command, and begged him to postpone his
departure for a short time. He refused the request. It would not, he
said, be for the public interest. Then they went to Themistocles, the
Athenian admiral. He was not the commander-in-chief, but he commanded
the most numerous contingent, one hundred and twenty-seven ships,
only thirteen short of the half. They offered him a splendid bribe of
thirty talents (about £7,000 of our money) if he could procure for
them the desired delay. Themistocles seems to have known the price of
the men whom he had to buy. To Eurybiades he gave five talents, and
the Spartan, to whom this sum probably seemed a fortune, changed his
views about the public safety. The Corinthian commander, who had the
most powerful squadron after that of Athens, had also to be bought.
Themistocles dealt with him in the frankest way. "I will give you," he
said, "more for staying than the Persians will give you for going."
The Corinthian does not seem to have resented the suggestion that he
was ready to be bribed by the enemies of his country, and accepted the
two talents which Themistocles sent on board his ship. The Athenian
kept the handsome balance in his own hands. We cannot say anything
more for him than that he comes out of the transaction better than
his colleagues. They believed that the better and safer course was to
retreat. He, on the contrary, was convinced that the right policy was
to stop and fight. But he never forgot his personal interests. In this
case he made them harmonise; on other occasions his action was more
doubtful. There is reason to think that, before the end of his career,
he postponed the public good to his own.
The Persians, when they saw that the Greek fleet was still at
Artemisium, had, it would seem, no thought but of how they might make
sure of capturing the whole. They sent a squadron of two hundred ships
to sail down the eastern coast of Eubœa. These were to take the Greek
in the rear, the main body waiting till the arrival of the squadron
had been signalled. Meanwhile the Greeks had received some encouraging
intelligence. A Greek diver, named Scyllias,[2] who had been in the
employ of the Persians, deserted to them. He described the damage that
had been done by the storm, and also informed them about the squadron
that had been sent round Eubœa. The first thought of the Greek admirals
was to sail south, and meet this squadron. But on reflection, bolder
counsels prevailed. Late in the afternoon they left their station, and
sailed towards the hostile fleet. The Persians viewed the movement with
astonishment, and the Asiatic Greeks with dismay, for though serving
with the enemy, they wished well to their countrymen. The Greek ships
were inferior, not only in numbers, but also in equipment, and they
seemed to be rushing on destruction.
The Greeks began by assuming what seemed like a defensive position,
forming a circle, with the sterns of their ships in close order,
and the prows turned to the enemy. The enemy advanced to close with
them, and then, at a concerted signal, the Greeks dashed at their
opponents with such success that they captured thirty of their ships,
the first prize falling, as indeed was fitting, to an Athenian ship.
The Persians, recovered from the first surprise, began to hold their
own better, and when night fell, the issue of the conflict was still
doubtful. The captain of a ship from the island of Lemnos had the
sagacity to see how the struggle would end, and deserted to the Greeks,
receiving afterwards a handsome reward for his timely patriotism.
Again the "stars fought in their courses for Greece." That night there
was a thunder-storm, with heavy rain and wind. The main body of the
fleet did not suffer much material damage, but the crews were dismayed
to see fragments of wrecks and bodies of the dead drifted in by the
wind. These were, indeed, the tokens of a great disaster. The squadron
that was sent round Eubœa had been driven on a lee shore and absolutely
destroyed. On the morrow the Persians made no movement, but the Greeks
repeated the tactics of the day before. The news of the disaster to
the Persian squadron had reached them, and they had been joined by a
reinforcement of Athenian ships. This gave them new courage besides
increasing their strength. Before the close of the day they captured
some Cilician ships.
On the third day the Persian commanders, made desperate by failure, for
they served a master who exacted a cruel penalty for ill-success, moved
forward to engage the enemy, the Greeks awaiting their attack. The
order of the Persian attack was in the shape of a half-moon, and its
object to outflank the enemy on either side. The Greeks accepted the
challenge. The result was not decisive. The Greeks sunk and captured
more ships than they themselves lost. But their own loss was serious.
Of the Athenian fleet especially, more than half was so injured as to
require repair. By this time, too, the position had ceased to have
any strategic value. The pass of Thermopylæ had been forced by the
Persians, and it was useless, therefore, to hold Artemisium. That night
the Greek fleet retired southwards. Themistocles, before he went,
caused to be engraved on a prominent rock an inscription which invited
the Asiatic Greeks serving with the Persians to make common cause with
their countrymen. "If these words," he reasoned with himself, "escape
the knowledge of the king, they may bring these Greeks over to us; if
they come to his knowledge, they will make him distrust them."
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 2: Pausanias tells us that he saw at Delphi a statue of this
Scyllias, which had been erected by the Amphictyonic Council. A statue
of his daughter Hydna had formerly stood next to it, but had been
carried off by Nero. The two were famous divers, and some marvellous
legends had gathered about them. Pausanias was told that they had
dragged away the anchors and moorings of the Persian ships during
the storm, and so aggravated the disaster. Herodotus had heard a yet
more marvellous story of how Scyllias had dived the whole distance,
nearly ten miles, between the Persian station and the Greek, but adds
characteristically, "My own opinion is that he made the passage in a
boat."]
IV
THE WOODEN WALLS
The retreat of the Greek forces from Thermopylæ and Artemisium left
Athens without defence. There had been a promise that an army of the
allies should make a stand against the invaders in Bœotia. No attempt
was made to keep it. The only plan of defence that commended itself to
the Peloponnesian States was to fortify the Isthmus of Corinth--and
all the states outside the Peloponnesus, Athens excepted, were either
pro-Persian or indifferent. As Athens was unwalled, there was no
question of defending it; the only thing that could be done was to
save as much life and property as was possible. For this the time
was short, and might have been shorter than it actually was, for the
Athenians had six days in which to transport their belongings to a
place of safety, though the distance to be traversed by the invaders
was not more than ninety miles. All the women, children, and persons
incapacitated by illness or old age were put on shipboard, and carried
either to Trœzen, a friendly city in the peninsula of Argolis, which
had some tie of kinship with Athens, to Ægina, which was but ten miles
away, or to Salamis, which was even nearer. The Athenians begged the
allies to remain in the neighbourhood till the work of transport was
accomplished, and Salamis happened to be the most convenient spot for
this purpose.
The whole fighting strength of Athens was now embarked in its fleet.
Years before, Themistocles, with a sagacity and prescience that seem
almost miraculous, had counselled his countrymen to spend all their
available resources in building ships. And only a few months before,
the oracle of Delphi had advised the Athenians to trust in their
"wooden wall," a phrase which this same statesman had interpreted as
meaning the ships. No one, we may believe, knew better what it meant,
as he had probably suggested it. The time had now come to put this
counsel into practice. Every able-bodied Athenian took service in the
fleet, the wealthy aristocrats, known as the "knights," setting the
examples by hanging up their bridles in the temple of Athené.
It had never been the intention of the officers in command of the
allied fleet to give battle at Salamis. They thought of nothing but
the safety of the Peloponnesus; possibly they believed that nothing
more than this could be hoped for. But when the Athenians, compelled
as they were to abandon their city, asked for their help in saving
non-combatants and such property as could be removed, they could not
refuse. And now the question presented itself--Where are we to meet
the Persian fleet? The captains assembled in the ship of Eurybiades
the Spartan, who was in chief command, and debated on what was to be
done. The general opinion was that they should retire from Salamis,
from which there would be great difficulty in escaping, if escape
should become necessary, and give battle somewhere off the coast of
the Peloponnesus. In the midst of the discussion a messenger arrived
with the news that the Persians had overrun all Attica, and had taken
by storm the citadel of Athens, which a few enthusiasts had insisted
on defending. These tidings could not have taken any one by surprise,
but the fact that one of the great cities of Greece had fallen into
the hands of the barbarians produced a panic. Some of the captains left
without waiting for the decision of the council, and, hurrying to their
own squadrons, prepared to depart. Those who stayed resolved to retire
to the Isthmus and make a stand there.
As Themistocles was returning to his ship from the council, he was
met by a friend who, in bygone years, had been his instructor in
philosophy. The new-comer, on hearing the decision at which the council
had arrived, denounced it most emphatically. "It means ruin for
Greece," he said. "The fleet will not remain together to fight; every
contingent will steal away, hoping to protect its own country. Go and
persuade Eurybiades to reconsider the question."
Themistocles went, and using every argument that he could think
of, at last succeeded in making such an impression on Eurybiades
that he consented to summon another council. Of course it was the
etiquette for the commander-in-chief to state the business which they
had met to discuss, but Themistocles, who saw that it was a matter
of life and death, could not help urging his case, without waiting
for the president of the council. Adeimantus, of Corinth, angrily
interrupted him. "Themistocles," he said, "at the Games, they who
start too soon are scourged." "True," replied the Athenian, "but they
who start too late are not crowned." He then addressed the council
in a tone of studied mildness and conciliation. He said nothing
about the probability that the fleet would be broken up by a general
desertion--such an argument would have been affront--but he urged that
to fight at Salamis would not be to risk everything on the issue of one
battle. To retreat would be to leave all northern Greece at the mercy
of the Persians, while a defeat at the Isthmus would mean the loss of
the Peloponnesus itself. As for the Athenians, they would loyally abide
by any decision to which the allies might come.
Adeimantus, enraged at the Athenian's persistence, interrupted him with
the remark that a man who had no country had no right to speak, and
even appealed to Eurybiades to impose silence upon him. Themistocles
then saw that it was time to assert himself. "With two hundred ships
fully manned and armed we have," he said, turning to Adeimantus, "as
good a country as any man here, for what state could resist us should
we choose to attack it?" Then he addressed himself to Eurybiades.
"Play the man and all will be well. All depends upon our ships. If you
will not stay here and fight, we will take our families on board and
sail for Italy, where the gods have provided us a home. Without us,
what will you do?"
To this threat there was no answer. The council resolved to stay and
fight.
But the matter was not really settled. The Peloponnesian contingents
were determined, in the last resort, to disobey their chief, and
Themistocles was aware of their determination. Only one course remained
for him, and it required the courage of despair to take it. If the
allies would not stay at Salamis of their own free will, they must do
it by compulsion. He sent a trusted slave to the Persian admiral with
this message: "The Athenian commander is a well-wisher to the King,
and he informs you that the Greeks are seized with fear, and are about
to retreat from Salamis. It is for you to hinder their flight." A more
daring stratagem was never put into execution. Not the least strange
circumstance about it is the fact that, years after, when Themistocles
had fallen into disgrace at home, he successfully claimed as a service
to the Persian king that he had given him the chance of destroying the
whole of the Greek fleet at one blow.
The Persian commanders seem not to have suspected the good faith of the
communication thus received, and at once set about closing in the Greek
ships. The town of Salamis was built in a little bay on the eastern
side of the island, the distance across to the mainland of Attica being
about two miles. The Greek fleet was drawn up, in what may be described
as the shape of a bow loosely strung, in front of the town; the Persian
ships were ranged along the opposite, _i.e._, the Attic shore. Both to
the north and to the south the channel narrowed, being less than a mile
across. The Persians now extended their line northwards till it touched
the shore of the island, and southwards till it reached an uninhabited
island called Psyttaleia. On this island they landed a body of troops
who were to help the crews of any of their own ships that might be
damaged, and slaughter any Greek soldiers or sailors who might be in a
similar plight.
While these preparations were going on--and they lasted nearly through
the night--the Greek leaders still hotly debated the question of going
or staying. An unexpected end was put to the controversy. The chief
opponent of Themistocles in Athenian politics was Aristides. He had
been banished, and, at the instance of his successful rival, recalled
from banishment when the danger of a Persian invasion became imminent.
He now came to join his countrymen, and brought startling tidings with
him. He had come from the island of Ægina, which lay some twelve miles
to the south of Salamis, and his ship had narrowly escaped capture in
making its way into the bay of Salamis; only the darkness had made
it possible to do so. Themistocles was fetched out from the council
to hear the tidings. "I hope," said Aristides, "that always, and now
especially, our strife will be who may do his best service to his
country. As for the question of going or staying, it matters nothing
whether the Peloponnesians talk much or little. Go they cannot. We are
enclosed on every side. This I have seen with my own eyes."
"This is good news," replied Themistocles, "for the Persians have done
exactly what I wished. Our men, who would not fight of their own free
will, will now be made to fight." And he told him of what he had done.
"And now go and tell them. If I was to say it, they would not believe
me."
Aristides accordingly went in to the council and told them his news.
Many of them refused to believe it, but when a ship from the island of
Tenos that had deserted from the Persians confirmed the report, there
was nothing more to say. All that could be done was to make all the
preparation possible for a conflict which had become inevitable.
Of the battle we have two accounts, that of Herodotus, derived
doubtless from one or more persons who had taken part in it, and that
of Æschylus, who actually fought there as he had fought before at
Marathon. The two accounts substantially agree, but they differ in the
number of Greek ships engaged. Herodotus says that there were 378, made
up to the round number of 380 by the Tenian ship which deserted on the
night before the battle, and a ship from Lemnos, which had done the
same at Artemisium. He gives the number of each contingent, the largest
being 180 contributed by Athens, while 89 came from the states of the
Peloponnesus, and 57 from Ægina and Eubœa. One ship only came from
Greece beyond the sea. Even this was a private rather than a public
contribution. A certain Phayllus of Crotona furnished a ship at his own
expense, and manned it with fellow-citizens who were sojourning in
Greece. Pausanias saw his statue at Delphi six centuries afterwards.
Æschylus says that there were 300 ships, and ten were of special
swiftness or strength. Mr. Grote thinks that this number is to be
accepted in preference, hardly showing, I think, his wonted acuteness.
The poet had to state his number in verse, and finds "ten thirties" a
convenient way of doing it. But 380 would have been an unmanageable
figure, and we have, accordingly, a convenient round number. Very
likely Mr. Grote was not so alive to the exigencies of verse as he had
been forty years before, when he was a Charterhouse boy.
As soon as the sun rose, the Greek fleet moved forward to the attack,
the crews joining, as they advanced, in the _pæan_ or shout of battle.
They met no reluctant foe. So confident, indeed, was the bearing of the
Persians, that the Greeks were checked. Some of the crews even began to
back water. The issues of great battles are often decided by examples
of courage. So it was at Salamis, for one of the Greek ships advanced
and led the way for the rest. To whom this credit is due cannot be
said for certain. The Athenians declared that this brave captain was
Ameinias, a brother of the poet Æschylus; the Æginetans claimed the
honour for a ship of their own, which had brought over, on the eve of
the battle, the heroes worshipped in their city as auxiliaries of the
Greek people.[3] Herodotus had also heard a legend how the form of a
woman, doubtless the goddess Athené, had been seen in the air and heard
to cry, in a voice which reached from one end of the fleet to another,
"Friends, how much further are ye going to back?" Æschylus gives his
authority in favour of his countryman, not expressly but by saying
that the ship which led the attack broke off the stern of a Phœnician
ship, for we know that the Phœnician squadron was posted over against
the Athenian contingent. The Æginetan was second if not first, and
Simonides gives the third place to a ship that came from Naxos. By
common consent Athens and Ægina shared the chief distinction of the day
between them. The Athenian ships busied themselves with such of the
enemy's fleet as offered resistance or were beached by their captains;
the Æginetans attacked those that attempted to escape by the southern
channel (their way to the open sea).