We now come to a siege which, from being unconnected with any rise
or fall of empires, or being made or resisted by any extraordinary
personages, may be passed by without particular notice by many readers
of history; and yet what horrors are crowded into this short scene;
what a picture it presents for human nature to shudder at!
Philip, king of Macedon, father of Perseus, who proved last monarch of
that country, was at war with the Rhodians. The inhabitants of Abydos
made common cause with that commercial people, who often came to visit
the shores of the Dardanelles. Philip was successful in his passage
through Thrace and the Chersonesus, where many cities surrendered to
his arms, but Abydos shut its gates against him, and prepared for a
bold resistance. We need not, in our time, go into any description
of the situation of this city: the East is now more familiar to the
inhabitants of central England than Cornwall or the isles of Scotland.
But Abydos was of more importance in the days of Philip than now;
the Dardanelles may still be of consequence as keys to the straits,
but this was then a wealthy commercial city and entrepôt. Nothing of
what is usually practised in such warlike proceedings was omitted in
this siege. No place was ever defended with more bravery; but this
bravery, in the end, degenerated into brutality and fury. Confiding
in their own strength, the Abydenians repulsed the first attacks of
the Macedonians with the greatest vigour. On the side next the sea,
the machines no sooner came forward than they were immediately either
dismounted by the balistæ or consumed by fire. Even the ships on which
they were mounted were in danger, and were saved with difficulty. On
the land side they also defended themselves for some time with great
courage, and did not despair even of defeating the enemy. But, finding
that the outer wall was sapped, and that the Macedonians were carrying
their mines under the inner one, they sent deputies to Philip, offering
to surrender upon the following terms:--That such forces as had been
sent to them by the Rhodians and King Attalus should return to their
respective sovereigns, under his safe conduct; and that all free
citizens should retire whithersoever they pleased, with the clothes
they had then on. Philip answered coolly, that the Abydenians had only
to choose whether they would surrender at discretion, or continue to
defend themselves bravely. This report being made by the deputies, the
besieged, in transports of despair, assembled to debate what was best
to be done. They came to the following resolutions:--First, that the
slaves should be all set free, to animate them to defend the city;
secondly, that all the women should be shut up in the Temple of Diana,
and all the children, with their nurses, in the Gymnasium; that they
should bring into the great square all the gold and silver in the
city, and carry all the rest of the valuable effects to the vessels
of the Rhodians and the Cyzicenians. These resolutions having passed
unanimously, another assembly was called, in which they chose fifty of
the wisest and most ancient of the citizens, but who at the same time
had vigour enough left to execute what might be determined on; and
they were made to take an oath, in presence of all the inhabitants,
that the instant they saw the enemy master of the inner wall, they
would kill the women and children, set fire to the galleys laden with
their effects, and throw into the sea all their gold and silver, which
they had heaped together: then, sending for their priests, they took
an oath either to conquer or die, sword in hand; and, after having
sacrificed the victims, they obliged the priests and priestesses to
pronounce before the altar the greatest curses on those who should
break their oath. This being done, they left off countermining, and
resolved, the instant the wall should fall, to fly to the breach, and
to fight till the last. Accordingly, the inward wall tumbling down,
the besieged, true to the oath they had taken, fought in the breach
with such unparalleled bravery, that, though Philip had perpetually
sustained with fresh soldiers those who had mounted to the assault,
yet, when night separated the combatants, he was still doubtful with
regard to the success of the siege. Such Abydenians as marched first to
the breach, over heaps of slain, fought with fury, and not only made
use of their swords and javelins, but after their arms were broken to
pieces, or forced out of their hands, they rushed headlong upon the
Macedonians, knocked some down, and broke the long spears of others,
and with the pieces struck their faces and such parts of their bodies
as were uncovered, till they made them absolutely despair of the event.
When night put an end to the slaughter, the breach was quite covered
with the dead bodies of the Abydenians; and those who had escaped were
so overwhelmed with fatigue, and had received so many wounds, that they
could hardly support themselves. Things being come to this dreadful
extremity, two of the principal citizens, being unable to bring
themselves to execute the awful task they had undertaken, and which
now came before them as a horrid reality, agreed that, to save their
wives and children, they should send to Philip by daybreak all their
priests and priestesses, clothed in their pontifical habits, to implore
his mercy, and open the gates to him. Accordingly, next morning,
the city was surrendered to Philip, whilst the greatest part of the
Abydenians who survived vented millions of imprecations against their
two fellow-citizens, but more particularly against the priests and
priestesses for delivering up to the enemy those whom themselves had
devoted to death with the most solemn oaths. Philip marched into the
city, and seized, without opposition, all the rich effects which the
Abydenians had collected together. But now he beheld a spectacle which
might have terrified even an ambitious monarch or a conqueror. Among
these ill-fated citizens, whom despair had made furious and distracted,
some were smothering their wives and children, and others stabbing
them with their own hands; some were running after them to strangle
them, others were plunging them into wells, whilst again others were
precipitating them from the tops of houses; in a word, death appeared
in all its variety of terrors. Philip, penetrated with horror and grief
at this spectacle, stopped the soldiers, who were eager to plunder, and
published the strange declaration that he would allow three days to all
who were resolved to lay violent hands on themselves. He was in hopes
that in that interval they would change their determination: but their
resolution was fixed. They thought it would be degenerating from those
who had lost their lives in defending their country, if they should
survive them. The individuals of every family killed one another,
and none escaped this murderous sacrifice but a few whose hands were
tied, or were otherwise kept, by force, from destroying themselves.
And Philip, during the three days, satisfied his ideas of humanity by
refraining from plundering the city he saw burning, and by beholding a
people destroy each other, whom he might have saved with a word!