No admirer of Greek civilisation can turn from the peaceful age of
Pericles and follow the next step in Grecian history without a feeling
of sadness, for he has to see the most cultured people of antiquity torn
by internal dissensions and interstate jealousies; he has to see the
people who represent the acme of culture harassed for a generation by an
imbecile strife, which shall leave it so weakened that it will become an
easy prey to outside foes. In every succeeding generation, when men have
studied the history of classical times, the same feeling of amazement has
prevailed, and has often found expression in contemplating this period
of the Peloponnesian War; but it remained for John Ruskin to invent the
vivid phrase which in three words epitomises the entire story, when he
speaks of this amazing conflict as the “suicide of Greece.” It was in
truth nothing less than that.
There was no great question at issue between the Athenian and Spartan
peoples that must be decided by the arbitrament of arms or otherwise.
There was no reason outside the temperament of the people themselves why
the Athenians on the one hand, and the Spartans on the other, might not
have gone on indefinitely, each people pre-eminent in its own territory,
and each standing aloof from the other; but that interstate jealousy
which was responsible for so many things in Grecian history came as a
determining influence which at last could not longer be controlled.
Persian might, which dared not re-enter Greece, but which longed for the
overthrow of an old enemy, urged on one side or the other, as seemed
for the moment best to serve that end. The remaining Grecian cities
took sides with Athens or Sparta according to their predilections,
or their own personal enmities and jealousies, and there resulted a
war which involved practically all the cities of Greece, and which,
after continuing for a full generation, brought Hellas as a whole to
destruction.
OUR SOURCES
The history of this war has been preserved to posterity in far greater
detail than has the history of any preceding conflict anywhere in the
world. The Athenian general Thucydides, who himself took an active part
in the earlier stages of the war, commanding forces in the field until
finally he suffered the displeasure of the Athenians, determined from
the outset, as he himself tells us, to write a complete history of the
conflict which he believed would be the most memorable of all in the
annals of history. The work which he produced has probably been more
widely celebrated and more universally applauded than any other piece of
historical composition that was ever written. All manner of extravagant
things have been said about it. Every one has heard, for example, of
Macaulay’s saying that he felt he might perhaps equal any other piece of
historical writing that had ever been done except the seventh book of
Thucydides, before which he felt himself helpless. This eulogy is of a
piece with much more that has been said in similar kind by a multitude
of other critics. It has even been alleged that no historian of a later
period has ever dealt out such impartial judgment as is to be found in
the pages of Thucydides. Seemingly forgetful of the meaning of words,
critics have even assured us that no period of like extent of the world’s
history, ancient or modern, is so fully known to us as this period of the
Peloponnesian War through the history of Thucydides.
To any one, who himself will take up the history of Thucydides, either
in the original or in such a translation as the admirable one of Dale,
two things will at once be apparent; in the first place it will not long
be open to doubt, to any one who is familiar with the literature of
antiquity, that this work of Thucydides, considered in relation to the
time in which it was written, is really an extraordinary production; but,
in the second place, it will be equally clear that if we are to consider
the work not in comparison with the writings of ancient authors but as
a part of world-literature, then much that has been said of it must be
regarded as fulsome eulogy.
To say that this work covers the period of the Peloponnesian War as
no modern period of history has been covered; to say that no modern
historian has dealt with his topic with the calm impartiality of
Thucydides; to say that no writer can hope to produce an historical
narrative comparable to the seventh book, or to any other book, of
Thucydides--to say such things as these is to abandon the broad impartial
view from which alone criticism worthy of the name is possible, and to
come under the spell of other minds. _The History of the Peloponnesian
War_ is a great book; as an historical composition it is one of the
greatest ever written: but when one has said that one has said enough.
Its style, by common consent, is not such as to make it a model, and
its matter is very largely the recital of bald facts with evidence of
an insight into the political motives beneath the surface, which seems
extraordinary only because the predecessors of Thucydides and some of
his successors had seemed so woefully to lack such insight. As to the
impartiality of the narrative, we must not overlook the significance of
Professor Mahaffy’s remark, that for most of the period covered in the
history of Thucydides this history itself is our sole authority. That
it does, nevertheless, evince a high degree of impartiality and a broad
sweep of intellect on the part of its author will not be questioned; but
Professor Mahaffy makes an estimate, which no one who is not fully under
the spell of antiquity would think of disputing, when he asserts his
belief that such modern historians as, for example, Thirlwall, must be
accredited with at least as high a degree of impartiality as Thucydides
can claim.
But all this must not be taken as in any sense denying that the work of
Thucydides is a marvellous production. Considering the time when it was
written, and that its author was a participant in many of the events
which he describes, it is astonishing that his work should be measurably
free from partiality. That it is so was, perhaps, at least in some
measure, due to the fact that Thucydides was banished from Athens, and
hence wrote his history not so much from the Athenian standpoint, as
from the standpoint of a man without a country, who was at enmity with
both Spartans and Athenians. But, partial or impartial, the history
of Thucydides remains, and presumably must always remain, the sole
contemporary record open to posterity of that great struggle through
which Greece, as it were, voluntarily threw away her prestige and her
power.
Thucydides, to be sure, did not complete his history of the war, or,
if he did, his later chapters have not been preserved to us. The
former supposition is doubtless the correct one, because the thread of
the narrative, which Thucydides dropped so abruptly, was taken up by
Xenophon, also a contemporary. It was a not unusual custom among the
ancient authors to write important works as explicit continuations of
the works of other writers. Xenophon’s narrative of the events of the
later years of the Peloponnesian War is such a work. Like the history of
Thucydides it is practically our sole authority for the period that it
covers, but, by common consent of critics, it takes a much lower level
than the work which it supplements.
Xenophon was also an exile from Athens; but he differed from Thucydides
in being an ardent friend of Sparta, and his prejudices are well known to
readers of his works. One must suppose, however, that the favourite pupil
of Socrates may be depended upon for reasonable impartiality when he
deals with matters of fact. But, be this as it may, it is Xenophon, and
Xenophon alone, who tells us most that we know at first hand, not alone
of the closing years of the Peloponnesian War, but of many in the period
succeeding. We shall constantly support our narrative of the events of
this period, therefore, by references to the pages of Xenophon, as well
as to those of Thucydides.[a]
THE ORIGIN OF THE WAR
Even before the recent hostilities at Corcyra and Potidæa, it had been
evident to reflecting Greeks that prolonged observance of the Thirty
Years’ Truce was becoming uncertain, and that the mingled hatred, fear,
and admiration which Athens inspired throughout Greece would prompt
Sparta and the Spartan confederacy to seize any favourable opening for
breaking down the Athenian power. That such was the disposition of Sparta
was well understood among the Athenian allies, however considerations
of prudence and general slowness in resolving might postpone the moment
of carrying it into effect. Accordingly not only the Samians when they
revolted had applied to the Spartan confederacy for aid, which they
appear to have been prevented from obtaining chiefly by the pacific
interests then animating the Corinthians--but also the Lesbians had
endeavoured to open negotiations with Sparta for a similar purpose,
though the authorities to whom alone the proposition could have been
communicated, since it long remained secret and was never executed--had
given them no encouragement.
The affairs of Athens had been administered, under the ascendency of
Pericles, without any view to extension of empire or encroachment upon
others, though with constant reference to the probabilities of war, and
with anxiety to keep the city in a condition to meet it. But even the
splendid internal ornaments, which Athens at that time acquired, were
probably not without their effect in provoking jealousy on the part of
other Greeks as to her ultimate views. The only known incident, wherein
Athens had been brought into collision with a member of the Spartan
confederacy prior to the Corcyræan dispute, was her decree passed in
regard to Megara, prohibiting the Megarians, on pain of death, from
all trade or intercourse as well with Athens as with all ports within
the Athenian empire. This prohibition was grounded on the alleged
fact, that the Megarians had harboured runaway slaves from Athens,
and had appropriated and cultivated portions of land upon her border;
partly land, the property of the goddesses of Eleusis; partly a strip
of territory disputed between the two states, and therefore left by
mutual understanding in common pasture without any permanent enclosure.
In reference to this latter point, the Athenian herald Anthemocritus
had been sent to Megara to remonstrate, but had been so rudely dealt
with, that his death shortly afterwards was imputed to the Megarians.
We may reasonably suppose that ever since the revolt of Megara fourteen
years before--which caused to Athens an irreparable mischief--the
feeling prevalent between the two cities had been one of bitter enmity,
manifesting itself in many ways, but so much exasperated by recent events
as to provoke Athens to a signal revenge. Exclusion from Athens and all
the ports in her empire, comprising nearly every island and seaport in
the Ægean, was so ruinous to the Megarians, that they loudly complained
of it at Sparta, representing it as an infraction of the Thirty Years’
Truce; though it was undoubtedly within the legitimate right of Athens
to enforce, and was even less harsh than the systematic expulsion of
foreigners by Sparta, with which Pericles compared it.
[Illustration: ATTENDANT OF A GREEK WARRIOR
(From a vase)]
[Sidenote: [432 B.C.]]
These complaints found increased attention after the war of Corcyra
and the blockade of Potidæa by the Athenians. The sentiments of the
Corinthians towards Athens had now become angry and warlike in the
highest degree. It was not simply resentment for the past which animated
them, but also the anxiety farther to bring upon Athens so strong a
hostile pressure as should preserve Potidæa and its garrison from
capture. Accordingly they lost no time in endeavouring to rouse the
feelings of the Spartans against Athens, and in inducing them to invite
to Sparta all such of the confederates as had any grievances against that
city. Not merely the Megarians, but several other confederates, came
thither as accusers; while the Æginetans, though their insular position
made it perilous for them to appear, made themselves vehemently heard
through the mouths of others, complaining that Athens withheld from them
the autonomy to which they were entitled under the truce.
According to the Lacedæmonian practice, it was necessary first that the
Spartans themselves, apart from their allies, should decide whether there
existed a sufficient case of wrong done by Athens against themselves or
against Peloponnesus--either in violation of the Thirty Years’ Truce,
or in any other way. If the determination of Sparta herself were in the
negative, the case would never even be submitted to the vote of the
allies; but if it were in the affirmative, then the latter would be
convoked to deliver their opinion also: and assuming that the majority
of votes coincided with the previous decision of Sparta, the entire
confederacy stood then pledged to the given line of policy--if the
majority was contrary, the Spartans would stand alone, or with such
only of the confederates as concurred. Even in the oligarchy of Sparta,
such a question as this could only be decided by a general assembly of
Spartan citizens, qualified both by age, by regular contribution to the
public mess, and by obedience to Spartan discipline. To the assembly
so constituted the deputies of the various allied cities addressed
themselves, each setting forth his case against Athens. The Corinthians
chose to reserve themselves to the last, after the assembly had been
inflamed by the previous speakers.
Of this important assembly, on which so much of the future fate of
Greece turned, Thucydides has preserved an account unusually copious.
First, the speech delivered by the Corinthian envoys. Next, that of some
Athenian envoys, who happening to be at the same time in Sparta on some
other matters, and being present in the assembly so as to have heard the
speeches both of the Corinthians and of the other complainants, obtained
permission from the magistrates to address the assembly in their turn.
Thirdly, the address of the Spartan king Archidamus, on the course of
policy proper to be adopted by Sparta. Lastly, the brief, but eminently
characteristic, address of the ephor, Sthenelaidas, on putting the
question for decision. These speeches, the composition of Thucydides
himself, contain substantially the sentiments of the parties to whom they
are ascribed. Neither of them is distinctly a reply to that which has
preceded, but each presents the situation of affairs from a different
point of view.
To dwell much upon specific allegations of wrong, would not have suited
the purpose of the Corinthian envoy; for against such, the Thirty
Years’ Truce expressly provided that recourse should be had to amicable
arbitration--to which recourse he never once alludes. He knew that,
as between Corinth and Athens, war had already begun at Potidæa; and
his business, throughout nearly all of a very emphatic speech, is to
show that the Peloponnesian confederacy, and especially Sparta, is
bound to take instant part in it, not less by prudence than by duty.
He employs the most animated language to depict the ambition, the
unwearied activity, the personal effort abroad as well as at home, the
quick resolves, the sanguine hopes never dashed by failure--of Athens,
as contrasted with the cautious, home-keeping, indolent, scrupulous
routine of Sparta. He reproaches the Spartans with their backwardness
and timidity, in not having repressed the growth of Athens before she
reached this formidable height, especially in having allowed her to
fortify her city after the retreat of Xerxes and afterwards to build the
Long Walls from the city to the sea. The Spartans (he observes) stood
alone among all Greeks in the notable system of keeping down an enemy,
not by acting, but by delaying to act--not arresting his growth, but
putting him down when his force was doubled. Falsely indeed had they
acquired the reputation of being sure, when they were in reality merely
slow. In resisting Xerxes, as in resisting Athens, they had always been
behindhand, disappointing and leaving their friends to ruin; while both
these enemies had only failed of complete success through their own
mistakes.
After half apologising for the tartness of these reproofs--which however,
as the Spartans were now well disposed to go to war forthwith, would
be well-timed and even agreeable--the Corinthian orator vindicates the
necessity of plain-speaking by the urgent peril of the emergency and
the formidable character of the enemy who threatened them. “You do
not reflect” he says “how thoroughly different the Athenians are from
yourselves. They are innovators by nature, sharp both in devising, and in
executing what they have determined: you are sharp only in keeping what
you have got, in determining on nothing beyond, and in doing even less
than absolute necessity requires. They again dare beyond their means, run
risks beyond their own judgment, and keep alive their hopes in desperate
circumstances: your peculiarity is, that your performance comes short of
your power, you have no faith even in what your judgment guarantees, when
in difficulties you despair of all escape. They never hang back, you are
habitual laggards: they love foreign service, you cannot stir from home:
for they are always under the belief that their movements will lead to
some further gain, while you fancy that new products will endanger what
you already have. When successful, they make the greatest forward march;
when defeated, they fall back the least. Moreover they task their bodies
on behalf of their city as if they were the bodies of others, while their
minds are most of all their own, for exertion in her service. When their
plans for acquisition do not come successfully out, they feel like men
robbed of what belongs to them: yet the acquisitions when realised appear
like trifles compared with what remains to be acquired. If they sometimes
fail in an attempt, new hopes arise in some other direction to supply the
want; for with them alone the possession and the hope of what they aim at
are almost simultaneous, from their habit of quickly executing all that
they have once resolved. And in this manner do they toil throughout all
their lives amidst hardship and peril, disregarding present enjoyment in
the continual thirst for increase, knowing no other festival recreation
except the performance of active duty, and deeming inactive repose a
worse condition than fatiguing occupation. To speak the truth in two
words, such is their inborn temper that they will neither remain at rest
themselves nor allow rest to others.
“Such is the city which stands opposed to you, Lacedæmonians--yet ye
still hang back from action. Your continual scruples and apathy would
hardly be safe, even if ye had neighbours like yourselves in character:
but as to dealings with Athens, your system is antiquated and out of
date. In politics as in art, it is the modern improvements which are sure
to come out victorious; and though unchanged institutions are best, if a
city be not called upon to act, yet multiplicity of active obligations
requires multiplicity and novelty of contrivance. It is through these
numerous trials that the means of Athens have acquired so much more new
development than yours.”
The Corinthians concluded by saying, that if, after so many previous
warnings, now repeated for the last time, Sparta still refused to protect
her allies against Athens, if she delayed to perform her promise made
to the Potidæans of immediately invading Attica, they (the Corinthians)
would forthwith look for safety in some new alliance, which they felt
themselves fully justified in doing. They admonished her to look well to
the case, and to carry forward Peloponnesus, with undiminished dignity,
as it had been transmitted to her from her predecessors.
Such was the memorable picture of Athens and her citizens, as exhibited
by her fiercest enemy before the public assembly at Sparta. It was
calculated to impress the assembly, not by appeal to recent or particular
misdeeds, but by the general system of unprincipled and endless
aggression which was imputed to Athens during the past, and by the
certainty held out that the same system, unless put down by measures of
decisive hostility, would be pushed still farther in future, to the utter
ruin of Peloponnesus. And to this point did the Athenian envoy (staying
in Sparta about some other negotiation and now present in the assembly)
address himself in reply, after having asked and obtained permission from
the magistrates. The empire of Athens was now of such standing that the
younger men present had no personal knowledge of the circumstances under
which it had grown up, and what was needed as information for them would
be impressive as a reminder even to their seniors.
In her position, he asserted, no Grecian power either would or could have
acted otherwise--no Grecian power, certainly not Sparta, would have acted
with so much equity and moderation or given so little ground of complaint
to her subjects. Worse they had suffered, while under Persia; worse they
would suffer, if they came under Sparta, who held her own allies under
the thraldom of an oligarchical party in each city; and if they hated
Athens this was only because subjects always hated the present dominion,
whatever that might be.
Having justified both the origin and the working of the Athenian empire,
the envoy concluded by warning Sparta to consider calmly, without being
hurried away by the passions and invectives of others, before she took
a step from which there was no retreat, and which exposed the future to
chances such as no man on either side could foresee. He called on her
not to break the truce mutually sworn to, but to adjust all differences,
as Athens was prepared to do, by the amicable arbitration which that
truce provided. Should she begin war, the Athenians would follow her
lead and resist her, calling to witness those gods under whose sanction
the oaths were taken. At any time previous to the affair of Corcyra, the
topics insisted upon by the Athenian would probably have been profoundly
listened to at Sparta. But now the mind of the Spartans was made up.
Having cleared the assembly of all “strangers,” and even all allies,
they proceeded to discuss and determine the question among themselves.
Most of their speakers held but one language--expatiating on the wrongs
already done by Athens, and urging the necessity of instant war. There
was however one voice, and that a commanding voice, raised against this
conclusion: the ancient and respected king Archidamus opposed it.
The speech of Archidamus is that of a deliberate Spartan, who, setting
aside both hatred to Athens and blind partiality to allies, looks at
the question with a view to the interests and honour of Sparta only.
He reminded them of the wealth, the population (greater than that of
any other Grecian city), the naval force, the cavalry, the hoplites,
the large foreign dominion of Athens--and then asked by what means
they proposed to put her down. Ships, they had few; trained seamen,
yet fewer; wealth, next to none. They could indeed invade and ravage
Attica, by their superior numbers and land-force. But the Athenians had
possessions abroad sufficient to enable them to dispense with the produce
of Attica, while their great navy would retaliate the like ravages upon
Peloponnesus. To suppose that one or two devastating expeditions into
Attica would bring the war to an end, would be a deplorable error; such
proceedings would merely enrage the Athenians, without impairing their
real strength, and the war would thus be prolonged, perhaps for a whole
generation. Before they determined upon war, it was absolutely necessary
to provide more efficient means for carrying it on; and to multiply their
allies not merely among the Greeks, but among foreigners also. While this
was in process, envoys ought to be sent to Athens to remonstrate and
obtain redress for the grievances of the allies. If the Athenians granted
this--which they very probably would do, when they saw the preparations
going forward, and when the ruin of the highly-cultivated soil of Attica
was held over them _in terrorem_ without being actually consummated--so
much the better: if they refused, in the course of two or three years,
war might be commenced with some hopes of success. Archidamus reminded
his countrymen that their allies would hold them responsible for the
good or bad issue of what was now determined; admonishing them, in the
true spirit of a conservative Spartan, to cling to that cautious policy
which had been ever the characteristic of the state, despising both
taunts on their tardiness and panegyric on their valour.
The speech of Archidamus was not only in itself full of plain reason and
good sense, but delivered altogether from the point of view of a Spartan;
appealing greatly to Spartan conservative feeling and even prejudice. But
in spite of all this, and in spite of the personal esteem entertained for
the speaker, the tide of feeling in the opposite direction was at that
moment irresistible. Sthenelaidas, one of the five ephors to whom it fell
to put the question for voting, closed the debate. His few words mark
at once the character of the man, the temper of the assembly, and the
simplicity of speech, though without the wisdom of judgment, for which
Archidamus had taken credit to his countrymen.
“I don’t understand,” he said, “these long speeches of the Athenians.
They have praised themselves abundantly, but they have never rebutted
what is laid to their charge--that they are guilty of wrong against our
allies and against Peloponnesus. Now if in former days they were good men
against the Persians, and are now evil-doers against us, they deserve
double punishment as having become evil-doers instead of good. But we
are the same now as we were then: we know better than to sit still while
our allies are suffering wrong: we shall not adjourn our aid, while they
cannot adjourn their sufferings. Others have in abundance wealth, ships,
and horses--but we have good allies, whom we are not to abandon to the
mercy of the Athenians: nor are we to trust our redress to arbitration
and to words, when our wrongs are not confined to words. We must help
them speedily and with all our strength. Nor let any one tell us that
we can with honour deliberate when we are actually suffering wrong--it
is rather for those who intend to do the wrong, to deliberate well
beforehand. Resolve upon war then, Lacedæmonians, in a manner worthy of
Sparta. Suffer not the Athenians to become greater than they are: let us
not betray our allies to ruin, but march with the aid of the gods against
the wrong-doers.”
With these few words, so well calculated to defeat the prudential
admonitions of Archidamus, Sthenelaidas put the question for the decision
of the assembly--which at Sparta was usually taken neither by show of
hands, nor by deposit of balls in an urn, but by cries analogous to the
ay or no of the English House of Commons--the presiding ephor declaring
which of the cries predominated. On this occasion the cry for war was
manifestly the stronger. Yet Sthenelaidas affected inability to determine
which of the two was the louder, in order that he might have an excuse
for bringing about a more impressive manifestation of sentiment and
a stronger apparent majority--since a portion of the minority would
probably be afraid to show their real opinions as individuals openly.
He therefore directed a division--like the speaker of the English House
of Commons when his decision in favour of ay or no is questioned by any
member--“Such of you as think that the truce has been violated and that
the Athenians are doing us wrong, go to that side; such as think the
contrary, to the other side.” The assembly accordingly divided, and the
majority was very great on the warlike side of the question.
The first step of the Lacedæmonians, after coming to this important
decision, was to send to Delphi and inquire of the oracle whether it
would be beneficial to them to undertake the war. The answer brought back
(Thucydides seems hardly certain that it was really given) was--that if
they did their best they would be victorious, and that the gods would
help them, invoked or uninvoked. They at the same time convened a general
congress of their allies to Sparta, for the purpose of submitting their
recent resolution to the vote of all.
[Sidenote: [432-431 B.C.]]
If there were any speeches delivered at this congress in opposition to
the war, they were not likely to be successful in a cause wherein even
Archidamus had failed. After the Corinthian had concluded, the question
was put to the deputies of every city, great and small indiscriminately:
and the majority decided for war. This important resolution was adopted
about the end of 432 B.C., or the beginning of January 431 B.C.: the
previous decision of the Spartans separately, may have been taken about
two months earlier, in the preceding October or November 432 B.C.
Reviewing the conduct of the two great Grecian parties at this momentous
juncture, with reference to existing treaties and positive grounds of
complaint, it seems clear that Athens was in the right. She had done
nothing which could fairly be called a violation of the Thirty Years’
Truce: while for such of her acts as were alleged to be such, she
offered to submit them to that amicable arbitration which the truce
itself prescribed. The Peloponnesian confederates were manifestly the
aggressors in the contest; and if Sparta, usually so backward, now came
forward in a spirit so decidedly opposite, we are to ascribe it partly to
her standing fear and jealousy of Athens, partly to the pressure of her
allies, especially of the Corinthians. Thucydides, recognising these two
as the grand determining motives, and indicating the alleged infractions
of truce as simple occasions or pretexts, seems to consider the fear and
hatred of Athens as having contributed more to determine Sparta than
the urgency of her allies. That the extraordinary aggrandisement of
Athens, during the period immediately succeeding the Persian invasion,
was well-calculated to excite alarm and jealousy in Peloponnesus, is
indisputable. But if we take Athens as she stood in 432 _B.C._, it
deserves notice that she had neither made, nor (so far as we know) tried
to make, a single new acquisition during the whole fourteen years which
had elapsed since the conclusion of the Thirty Years’ Truce--and moreover
that that truce marked an epoch of signal humiliation and reduction of
her power. The triumph which Sparta and the Peloponnesians then gained,
though not sufficiently complete to remove all fear of Athens, was yet
great enough to inspire them with the hope that a second combined effort
would subdue her. This mixture of fear and hope was exactly the state of
feeling out of which war was likely to grow.
Moreover the confident hopes of the Peloponnesians were materially
strengthened by the widespread sympathy in favour of their cause,
proclaiming as it did the intended liberation of Greece from a despot
city.
To Athens, on the other hand, the coming war presented itself in a very
different aspect; holding out scarcely any hope of possible gain, and the
certainty of prodigious loss and privation--even granting that at this
heavy cost, her independence and union at home, and her empire abroad,
could be upheld. By Pericles, and by the more long-sighted Athenians, the
chance of unavoidable war was foreseen even before the Corcyræan dispute.
But Pericles was only the first citizen in a democracy, esteemed,
trusted, and listened to, more than any one else by the body of citizens,
but warmly opposed in most of his measures, under the free speech and
latitude of individual action which reigned at Athens--and even bitterly
hated by many active political opponents. The formal determination of the
Lacedæmonians, to declare war, must of course have been made known at
Athens, by those Athenian envoys who had entered an unavailing protest
against it in the Spartan assembly. No steps were taken by Sparta to
carry this determination into effect until after the congress of allies
and their pronounced confirmatory vote. Nor did the Spartans even then
send any herald, or make any formal declaration. They despatched various
propositions to Athens, not at all with a view of trying to obtain
satisfaction, or of providing some escape from the probability of war;
but with the contrary purpose--of multiplying demands, and enlarging
the grounds of quarrel. Meanwhile the deputies retiring home from the
congress to their respective cities carried with them the general
resolution for immediate warlike preparations to be made with as little
delay as possible.
[Illustration: GREEK HELMETS AND STANDARD]
PREPARATIONS FOR THE CONFLICT
The first requisition addressed by the Lacedæmonians to Athens was a
political manœuvre aimed at Pericles, their chief opponent in that city.
His mother Agariste belonged to the great family of the Alemæonids, who
were supposed to be under an inexorable hereditary taint, in consequence
of the sacrilege committed by their ancestor Megacles nearly two
centuries before, in the slaughter of the Cylonian suppliants near the
altar of the Venerable Goddesses. Ancient as this transaction was, it
still had sufficient hold on the mind of the Athenians to serve as the
basis of a political manœuvre: about seventy-seven years before, shortly
after the expulsion of Hippias from Athens, it had been so employed by
the Spartan king Cleomenes, who at that time exacted from the Athenians
a clearance of the ancient sacrilege, to be effected by the banishment
of Clisthenes (the founder of the democracy) and his chief partisans.
This demand, addressed by Cleomenes to the Athenians at the instance of
Isagoras, the rival of Clisthenes, had been then obeyed, and had served
well the purposes of those who sent it. A similar blow was now aimed
by the Lacedæmonians at Pericles (the grand-nephew of Clisthenes), and
doubtless at the instance of his political enemies: religion required,
it was pretended, that “the abomination of the goddess should be driven
out.” If the Athenians complied with this demand, they would deprive
themselves, at this critical moment, of their ablest leader. But the
Lacedæmonians, not expecting compliance, reckoned at all events upon
discrediting Pericles with the people, as being partly the cause of the
war through family taint of impiety; and this impression would doubtless
be loudly proclaimed by his political opponents in the assembly.
The influence of Pericles with the Athenian public had become greater
and greater as their political experience of him was prolonged. But the
bitterness of his enemies appears to have increased along with it; and
not long before this period, he had been indirectly assailed, as we
have seen, through the medium of accusations against three different
persons, all more or less intimate with him--his mistress Aspasia, the
philosopher Anaxagoras, and the sculptor Phidias. It is said also that
Dracontides proposed and carried a decree in the public assembly, that
Pericles should be called on to give an account of the money which he had
expended, and that the dicasts, before whom the account was rendered,
should give their suffrage in the most solemn manner from the altar: this
latter provision was modified by Agnon, who, while proposing that the
dicasts should be fifteen hundred in number, retained the vote by pebbles
in the urn according to ordinary custom.
If Pericles was ever tried on such a charge, there can be no doubt that
he was honourably acquitted: for the language of Thucydides respecting
his pecuniary probity is such as could not have been employed if a
verdict of guilty on a charge of peculation had been publicly pronounced.
But we cannot be certain that he ever was tried; indeed, another
accusation urged by his enemies, and even by Aristophanes in the sixth
year of the Peloponnesian War, implies that no trial took place: for
it was alleged that Pericles, in order to escape this danger, “blew up
the Peloponnesian War,” and involved his country in such confusion and
peril as made his own aid and guidance indispensably necessary to her,
especially that he passed the decree against the Megarians by which the
war was really brought on. We know enough, however, to be certain that
such a supposition is altogether inadmissible. The enemies of Pericles
were far too eager, and too expert in Athenian political warfare, to have
let him escape by such a stratagem. Moreover, we learn from the assurance
of Thucydides that the war depended upon far deeper causes--that the
Megarian decree was in no way the real cause of it; that it was not
Pericles, but the Peloponnesians, who brought it on, by the blow struck
at Potidæa.
All that we can make out, amidst these uncertified allegations, is that,
in a year or two immediately preceding the Peloponnesian War, Pericles
was hard pressed by the accusations of political enemies--perhaps even in
his own person, but certainly in the persons of those who were most in
his confidence and affection. And it was in this turn of his political
position, that the Lacedæmonians sent to Athens the above-mentioned
requisition, that the ancient Cylonian sacrilege might be at length
cleared out; in other words, that Pericles and his family might be
banished. Doubtless his enemies, as well as the partisans of Lacedæmon
at Athens, would strenuously support this proposition. And the party of
Lacedæmon at Athens was always strong, even during the middle of the war;
to act as proxenus to the Lacedæmonians was accounted an honour even by
the greatest Athenian families. On this occasion, however, the manœuvre
did not succeed, nor did the Athenians listen to the requisition for
banishing the sacrilegious Alcmæonids. On the contrary, they replied that
the Spartans too had an account of sacrilege to clear off: for they had
violated the sanctuary of Poseidon at Cape Tænarus, in dragging from it
some helot suppliants; and the sanctuary of Athene Chalciœcus at Sparta,
in blocking up and starving to death the guilty regent Pausanias. To
require that Laconia might be cleared of these two acts of sacrilege,
was the only answer which the Athenians made to the demand sent for the
banishment of Pericles. Probably the actual effect of that demand was to
strengthen him in the public esteem--very different from the effect of
the same manœuvre when practised before by Cleomenes against Clisthenes.
Other Spartan envoys shortly afterwards arrived with fresh demands. The
Athenians were now required: (1) to withdraw their troops from Potidæa;
(2) to replace Ægina in its autonomy; (3) to repeal the bill of exclusion
against the Megarians.
It was upon the latter that the greatest stress was laid; an intimation
being held out that the war might be avoided if such repeal were granted.
We see plainly from this proceeding that the Lacedæmonians acted in
concert with the anti-Periclean leaders at Athens. To Sparta and her
confederacy the decree against the Megarians was of less importance than
the rescue of the Corinthian troops now blocked up in Potidæa; but on
the other hand, the party opposed to Pericles would have much better
chance of getting a vote of the assembly against him on the subject of
the Megarians: and this advantage, if gained, would serve to enfeeble
his influence generally. No concession was obtained however on either
of the three points: even in respect to Megara, the decree of exclusion
was vindicated and upheld against all the force of opposition. At length
the Lacedæmonians--who had already resolved upon war and had sent three
envoys in mere compliance with the exigencies of ordinary practice, not
with any idea of bringing about an accommodation--sent a third batch of
envoys with a proposition which at least had the merit of disclosing
their real purpose without disguise. Rhamphias and two other Spartans
announced to the Athenians the simple injunction: “The Lacedæmonians
wish the peace to stand; and it may stand, if you will leave the Greeks
autonomous.” Upon this demand, so very different from the preceding, the
Athenians resolved to hold a fresh assembly on the subject of war or
peace, to open the whole question anew for discussion, and to determine
once for all on a peremptory answer.
The last demands presented on the part of Sparta, which went to nothing
less than the entire extinction of the Athenian empire--combined with
the character, alike wavering and insincere, of the demands previously
made, and with the knowledge that the Spartan confederacy had pronounced
peremptorily in favour of war--seemed likely to produce unanimity at
Athens, and to bring together this important assembly under the universal
conviction that war was inevitable. Such however was not the fact.
The reluctance to go to war was sincere amidst the majority of the
assembly, while among a considerable portion of them it was so
preponderant, that they even now reverted to the opening which the
Lacedæmonians had before held out about the anti-Megarian decree, as
if that were the chief cause of the war. There was much difference of
opinion among the speakers, several of whom insisted upon the repeal of
this decree, treating it as a matter far too insignificant to go to war
about, and denouncing the obstinacy of Pericles for refusing to concede
such a trifle. Against this opinion Pericles entered his protest, in an
harangue decisive and encouraging, which Dionysius of Halicarnassus ranks
among the best speeches in Thucydides: the latter historian may probably
himself have heard the original speech.
“I continue, Athenians, to adhere to the same conviction, that we must
not yield to the Peloponnesians. Now let none of you believe that we
shall be going to war about a trifle if we refuse to rescind the Megarian
decree--which they chiefly put forward, as if its repeal would avert
the war--let none of you take blame to yourselves as if we had gone to
war about a small matter. For this small matter contains in itself the
whole test and trial of your mettle: if ye yield it, ye will presently
have some other greater exaction put upon you, like men who have already
truckled on one point from fear: whereas if ye hold out stoutly, ye will
make it clear to them that they must deal with you upon a footing of
equality.”
Pericles then examined the relative strength of parties and the chances
of war. The Peloponnesians were a self-working population, with few
slaves, and without wealth, either private or public: they had no means
of carrying on distant or long-continued war: they were ready to expose
their persons, but not at all ready to contribute from their very narrow
means: in a border-war or a single land battle, they were invincible,
but for systematic warfare against a power like Athens, they had neither
competent headship, nor habits of concert and punctuality, nor money
to profit by opportunities, always rare and accidental, for successful
attack. They might perhaps establish a fortified post in Attica, but it
would do little serious mischief; while at sea, their inferiority and
helplessness would be complete, and the irresistible Athenian navy would
take care to keep it so. Nor would they be able to reckon on tempting
away the able foreign seamen from Athenian ships by means of funds
borrowed from Olympia or Delphi. For besides that the mariners of the
dependent islands would find themselves losers even by accepting a higher
pay, with the certainty of Athenian vengeance afterwards, Athens herself
would suffice to man her fleet in case of need, with her own citizens and
metics: she had within her own walls steersmen and mariners better, as
well as more numerous, than all Greece besides. There was but one side on
which Athens was vulnerable: Attica unfortunately was not an island--it
was exposed to invasion and ravage. To this the Athenians must submit,
without committing the imprudence of engaging a land battle to avert it:
they had abundant lands out of Attica, insular as well as continental, to
supply their wants, and they could in their turn, by means of their navy,
ravage the Peloponnesian territories, whose inhabitants had no subsidiary
lands to recur to.
“Mourn not for the loss of land and house,” continued the orator:
“reserve your mourning for men: houses and land acquire not men, but
men acquire them. Nay, if I thought I could prevail upon you, I would
exhort you to march out and ravage them yourselves, and thus show to the
Peloponnesians that for them at least ye will not truckle. And I could
exhibit many further grounds for confidently anticipating success, if
ye will only be willing not to aim at increased dominion when we are in
the midst of war, and not to take upon yourself new self-imposed risks;
for I have ever been more afraid of our own blunders than of the plans
of our enemy. But these are matters for further discussion, when we
come to actual operations: for the present, let us dismiss these envoys
with the answer--That we will permit the Megarians to use our markets
and harbours, if the Lacedæmonians on their side will discontinue their
summary expulsions of ourselves and our allies from their own territory;
for there is nothing in the truce to prevent either one or the other:
That we will leave the Grecian cities autonomous, if we had them as
autonomous at the time when the truce was made; and as soon as the
Lacedæmonians shall grant to their allied cities autonomy such as each
of them shall freely choose, not such as is convenient to Sparta: That
while we are ready to give satisfaction according to the truce, we will
not begin war, but will repel those who do begin it. Such is the reply at
once just and suitable to the dignity of this city. We ought to make up
our minds that war is inevitable: the more cheerfully we accept it, the
less vehement shall we find our enemies in their attack: and where the
danger is greatest, there also is the final honour greatest, both for a
state and for a private citizen. Assuredly our fathers, when they bore up
against the Persians--having no such means as we possess to start from,
and even compelled to abandon all that they did possess--both repelled
the invader and brought matters forward to our actual pitch, more by
advised operation than by good fortune, and by a daring courage greater
than their real power. We ought not to fall short of them: we must keep
off our enemies in every way, and leave an unimpaired power to our
successors.”
These animating encouragements of Pericles carried with them the majority
of the assembly, so that answer was made to the envoys, such as he
recommended, on each of the particular points in debate. It was announced
to them, moreover, on the general question of peace or war, that the
Athenians were prepared to discuss all the grounds of complaint against
them, pursuant to the truce, by equal and amicable arbitration, but that
they would do nothing under authoritative demand. With this answer the
envoys returned to Sparta, and an end was put to negotiation.
It seems evident, from the account of Thucydides, that the Athenian
public was not brought to this resolution without much reluctance, and
great fear of the consequences, especially destruction of property in
Attica; and that a considerable minority took opposition on the Megarian
decree--the ground skilfully laid by Sparta for breaking the unanimity
of her enemy, and strengthening the party opposed to Pericles. But we
may also decidedly infer from the same historian--especially from the
proceedings of Corinth and Sparta as he sets them forth--that Athens
could not have avoided the war without such an abnegation both of dignity
and power as no nation under any government will ever submit to, and
as would have even left her without decent security for her individual
rights. It is common to ascribe the Peloponnesian War to the ambition of
Athens, but this is a partial view of the case.
The aggressive sentiment, partly fear and partly hatred, was on the
side of the Peloponnesians, who were not ignorant that Athens desired
the continuance of peace, but were resolved not to let her stand as she
was at the conclusion of the Thirty Years’ Truce. It was their purpose
to attack her and break down her empire, as dangerous, wrongful, and
anti-Hellenic. The war was thus partly a contest of principle, involving
the popular proclamation of the right of every Grecian state to autonomy,
against Athens: partly a contest of power, wherein Spartan and Corinthian
ambition was not less conspicuous, and far more aggressive in the
beginning than Athenian.
[Sidenote: [431 B.C.]]
Conformably to what is here said, the first blow of the war was struck,
not by Athens, but against her. After the decisive answer given to the
Spartan envoys, taken in conjunction with the previous proceedings, and
the preparations actually going on, among the Peloponnesian confederacy,
the truce could hardly be said to be in force, though there was no formal
proclamation of rupture.
A few weeks undoubtedly passed in restricted and mistrustful intercourse;
though individuals who passed the borders did not think it necessary to
take a herald with them, as in time of actual war. Had the excess of
ambition been on the side of Athens compared with her enemies, this was
the time for her to strike the first blow, carrying with it of course
greater probability of success, before their preparations were completed.
But she remained strictly within the limits of the truce, while the
disastrous series of mutual aggressions, destined to tear in pieces the
entrails of Hellas, was opened by her enemy and her neighbour.
The little town of Platæa, still hallowed by the memorable victory over
the Persians as well as by the tutelary consecration received from
Pausanias, was the scene of this unforeseen enterprise which marks the
opening of hostilities in the Peloponnesian war.[b]
[Illustration: GREEK HELMETS]
THE SURPRISE OF PLATÆA
War had been only threatened, not declared; and peaceful intercourse,
though not wholly free from distrust, was still kept up between the
subjects of the two confederacies. But early in the following spring, 431
B.C., in the fifteenth year of the Thirty Years’ Truce, an event took
place which closed all prospects of peace, precipitated the commencement
of war, embittered the animosity of the contending parties, and prepared
some of the most tragical scenes of the ensuing history. In the dead
of night the city of Platæa was surprised by a body of three hundred
Thebans, commanded by two of the great officers called Bœotarchs. They
had been invited by a Platæan named Nauclides, and others of the same
party, who hoped with the aid of the Thebans to rid themselves of their
political opponents, and to break off the relation in which their city
was standing to Athens, and transfer its alliance to Thebes. The Thebans,
foreseeing that a general war was fast approaching, felt the less scruple
in strengthening themselves by this acquisition, while it might be made
with little cost and risk. The gates were unguarded, as in time of peace,
and one of them was secretly opened to the invaders, who advanced without
interruption into the marketplace. Their Platæan friends wished to lead
them at once to the houses of their adversaries, and to glut their hatred
by a massacre. But the Thebans were more anxious to secure the possession
of the city, and feared to provoke resistance by an act of violence.
Having therefore halted in the marketplace, they made a proclamation
inviting all who were willing that Platæa should become again, as it had
been in former times, a member of the Bœotian body, to join them.
The Platæans who were not in the plot, imagined the force by which their
city had been surprised to be much stronger than it really was, and, as
no hostile treatment was offered to them, remained quiet, and entered
into a parley with the Thebans. In the course of these conferences they
gradually discovered that the number of the enemy was small, and might
be easily overpowered; and, as they were in general attached to the
Athenians, or at least strongly averse to an alliance with Thebes, they
resolved to make the attempt, while the darkness might favour them, and
perplex the strangers. To avoid suspicion they met to concert their plan
of operation by means of passages opened through the walls of their
houses; and having barricaded the streets with wagons, and made such
other preparations as they thought necessary, a little before daybreak
they suddenly fell upon the Thebans.
The little band made a vigorous defence, and twice or thrice repulsed the
assailants; but as these still returned to the charge, and were assisted
by the women and slaves, who showered stones and tiles from the houses
on the enemy, all at the same time raising a tumultuous clamour, and a
heavy rain increased the confusion caused by the darkness, they at length
lost their presence of mind, and took to flight. But most were unable
to find their way in the dark through a strange town, and several were
slain as they wandered to and fro in search of an outlet. The gate by
which they were admitted had in the meanwhile been closed, and no other
was open. Some, pressed by their pursuers, mounted the walls, and threw
themselves down on the outside, but for the most part were killed by the
fall. A few were fortunate enough to break open one of the gates in a
lone quarter, with an axe which they obtained from a woman, and to effect
their escape. The main body, which had kept together, entered a large
building adjoining the walls, having mistaken its gates, which they found
open, for those of the town, and were shut in. The Platæans at first
thought of setting fire to the building; but at length the men within, as
well as the rest of the Thebans who were still wandering up and down the
streets, surrendered at discretion.
Before their departure from Thebes it had been concerted that as large
a force as could be raised should march the same night to support them.
The distance between the two places was not quite nine miles, and these
troops were expected to reach the gates of Platæa before the morning;
but the Asopus, which crossed their road, had been swollen by the rain,
and the state of the ground and the weather otherwise retarded them,
so that they were still on their way when they heard of the failure of
the enterprise. Though they did not know the fate of their countrymen,
as it was possible that some might have been taken prisoners, they were
at first inclined to seize as many of the Platæans as they could find
without the walls, and to keep them as hostages. The Platæans anticipated
this design, and were alarmed, for many of their fellow citizens were
living out of the town in the security of peace, and there was much
valuable property in the country. They therefore sent a herald to the
Theban army to complain of their treacherous attack, and call upon them
to abstain from further aggression, and to threaten that, if any was
offered, the prisoners should answer for it with their lives. The Thebans
afterwards alleged that they had received a promise, confirmed by an
oath, that, on condition of their retiring from the Platæan territory,
the prisoners should be released; and Thucydides seems disposed to
believe this statement. The Platæans denied that they had pledged
themselves to spare the lives of the prisoners, unless they should come
to terms on the whole matter with the Thebans; but it does not seem
likely that, after ascertaining the state of the case, the Thebans would
have been satisfied with so slight a security. It is certain however that
they retired, and that the Platæans, as soon as they had transported
their movable property out of the country into the town, put to death all
the prisoners--amounting to 180, and including Eurymachus, the principal
author of the enterprise, and the man who possessed the greatest
influence in Thebes.
On the first entrance of the Thebans into Platæa a messenger had been
despatched to Athens with the intelligence, and the Athenians had
immediately laid all the Bœotians in Attica under arrest; and when
another messenger brought the news of the victory gained by the Platæans,
they sent a herald to request that they would reserve the prisoners for
the disposal of the Athenians. The herald came too late to prevent the
execution: and the Athenians, foreseeing that Platæa would stand in great
need of defence, sent a body of troops to garrison it, supplied it with
provisions, and removed the women and children and all persons unfit for
service in a siege.
After this event it was apparent that the quarrel could only be decided
by arms. Platæa was so intimately united with Athens, that the Athenians
felt the attack which had been made on it as an outrage offered to
themselves, and prepared for immediate hostilities. Sparta, too,
instantly sent notice to all her allies to get their contingents ready
by an appointed day for the invasion of Attica. Two-thirds of the whole
force which each raised were ordered to march, and when the time came
assembled in the isthmus, where King Archidamus put himself at their
head. An army more formidable, both in numbers and spirit, had never
issued from the peninsula; and Archidamus thought it advisable, before
they set out, to call the principal officers together, and to urge the
necessity of proceeding with caution and maintaining exact discipline,
as soon as they should have entered the enemy’s territory; admonishing
them not to be so far elated by their superior numbers as to believe
that the Athenians would certainly remain passive spectators of their
inroads. And though all except himself were impatient to move, he would
not yet take the decisive step, without making one attempt more to avert
its necessity. He still cherished a faint hope, that the resolution of
the Athenians might be shaken by the prospect of the evils of war which
were now so imminent, and he sent Melesippus to sound their disposition.
But the envoy was not able to obtain an audience from the people, nor so
much as to enter the walls. A decree had been made, at the instigation
of Pericles, to receive no embassy from the Spartans while they should
be under arms. Melesippus was informed that if his government wished
to treat with Athens, it must first recall its forces. He himself was
ordered to quit Attica that very day, and persons were appointed to
conduct him to the frontier, to prevent him from holding communication
with any one by the way. On parting with his conductors he exclaimed,
“This day will be the beginning of great evils to Greece.”
Such a prediction might well occur to any one, who reflected on the
nature of the two powers which were now coming into conflict, and on
the great resources of both, which, though totally different in kind,
were so evenly balanced that no human eye could perceive in which scale
victory hung; and the termination of the struggle could seem near only to
one darkened by passion. The strength of Sparta, as was implied in the
observation of Sthenelaidas, lay in the armies which she could collect
from the states of her confederacy. The force which she could thus bring
into the field is admitted by Pericles, in one of the speeches ascribed
to him by Thucydides, to be capable of making head against any that could
be raised by the united efforts of the rest of Greece. Within the isthmus
her allies included all the states of Peloponnesus, except Achaia and
Argos; and the latter was bound to neutrality by a truce which still
wanted several years of its term. Hence the great contest now beginning
was not improperly called the Peloponnesian War. Beyond the isthmus
she was supported by Megara and Thebes, which drew the rest of Bœotia
along with it; and Attica would thus have been completely surrounded
on the land side by hostile territories, if Platæa and Oropus had not
been politically attached to it. The Locrians of Opus, the Dorians of
the mother-country, and the Phocians (though these last were secretly
more inclined to the Athenians, who had always taken their part in their
quarrels with Delphi, the stanch friend of Sparta) were also on her
side. Thessaly, Acarnania, and the Amphilochian Argos, were in alliance
with her enemy; but for this very reason, and more especially from their
hostility to the Messenians of Naupactus, the Ætolians were friendly to
her; and she could also reckon on the Corinthian colonies, Anactorium,
Ambracia, and Leucas.
The power which Sparta exerted over her allies was much more narrowly
limited than that which Athens had assumed over her subjects. The Spartan
influence rested partly on the national affinity by which the head was
united to the Dorian members of the confederacy, but still more on the
conformity, which she established or maintained among all of them, to
her own oligarchical institutions. This was the only point in which she
encroached on the independence of any. Every state had a voice in the
deliberations by which its interests might be affected; and if Sparta
determined the amount of the contributions required by extraordinary
occasions, she was obliged carefully to adjust it to the ability of each
community. So far was she from enriching herself at the expense of the
confederacy, that at the beginning of the war there was, as we have seen,
no common treasure belonging to it, and no regular tribute for common
purposes. But, to compensate for these defects, her power stood on a more
durable basis of goodwill than that of Athens; and though in every state
there was a party attached to the Athenian interest on political grounds,
yet on the whole the Spartan cause was popular throughout Greece; and
while Athens was forced to keep a jealous eye on all her subjects, and
was in continual fear of losing them, Sparta, secure of the loyalty of
her own allies, could calmly watch for opportunities of profiting by the
disaffection of those of her rival.
At home indeed her state was far from sound, and the Athenians were
well aware of her vulnerable side; but abroad, and as chief of the
Peloponnesian confederacy, she presented the majestic and winning aspect
of the champion of liberty against Athenian tyranny and ambition: and
hence she had important advantages to hope from states which were but
remotely connected with her, and were quite beyond the reach of her arms.
Many powerful cities in Italy and Sicily were thus induced to promise
her their aid, and it was on this she founded her chief expectations
of forming a navy, which might face that of Athens. Her allies in this
quarter engaged to furnish her with money and ships, which, it was
calculated, would amount to no less than five hundred, though for the
present it was agreed that they should wear the mask of neutrality, and
admit single Athenian vessels into their ports. But as she was conscious
that she should still be deficient in the sinews of war, she already
began to turn her eyes to the common enemy of Greece, who was able
abundantly to supply this want, and would probably be willing to lavish
his gold for the sake of ruining Athens, the object of his especial
enmity and dread.
The extent of the Athenian empire cannot be so exactly computed. In the
language of the comic stage, it is said to comprehend a thousand cities;
and it is difficult to estimate what abatement ought to be made from this
playful exaggeration. The subjects of Athens were in general more opulent
than the allies of Sparta, and their sovereign disposed of their revenues
at her pleasure. The only states to which she granted more than a nominal
independence were some islands in the western seas, Corcyra, Zacynthus,
and Cephallenia--points of peculiar importance to her operations and
prospects in that quarter, though even there she was more feared than
loved. At the moment of the revolt of Potidæa her empire had reached its
widest range, and her finances were in the most flourishing condition;
and at the outbreak of the war her naval and military strength was at
its greatest height. Pericles, as one of the ten regular generals, or
ministers of war, before the Peloponnesian army had reached the frontier,
held an assembly, in which he gave an exact account of the resources
which the republic had at her disposal.
Her finances, beside the revenue which she drew from a variety of
sources, foreign and domestic, were nourished by the annual tribute
of her allies, which now amounted to six hundred talents [£120,000 or
$600,000]. Six thousand, in money, still remained in the treasury, after
the great expenditure incurred on account of the public buildings, and
the siege of Potidæa, before which the sum had amounted to nearly ten
thousand. But to this, Pericles observed, must be added the gold and
silver which, in various forms of offerings, ornaments, and sacred
utensils, enriched the temples or public places, which he calculated at
five hundred talents, without reckoning the precious materials employed
in the statues of the gods and heroes. The statue of Athene in the
Parthenon alone contained forty talents’ weight of pure gold, in the
ægis, shield, and other appendages. If they should ever be reduced to
the want of such a supply, there could be no doubt that their tutelary
goddess would willingly part with her ornaments for their service, on
condition that they were replaced at the earliest opportunity.
They could muster a force of 13,000 heavy-armed, beside those who were
employed in their various garrisons, and in the defence of the city
itself, with the long walls and the fortifications of its harbours, who
amounted to 16,000 more; made up, indeed, partly of the resident aliens,
and partly of citizens on either verge of the military age. The military
force also included 1200 cavalry and 1600 bowmen, beside some who were
mounted; and they had 300 galleys in sailing condition.
PERICLES’ RECONCENTRATION POLICY
After rousing the confidence of the Athenians by this enumeration,
Pericles urged them without delay to transport their families and all
their movable property out of the enemy’s reach, and, as long as the
war should last, to look upon the capital as their home. To encourage a
patriotic spirit by his example, and at the same time to secure himself
from imputations to which he might be exposed, either by the Spartan
cunning, or by an indiscreet display of private friendship, he publicly
declared, that if Archidamus, who was personally attached to him by the
ties of hospitality, should, either from this motive, or in compliance
with orders which might be given in an opposite intention, exempt his
lands from the ravages of war, they should from that time become the
property of the state.
[Illustration: OFFICERS’ HELMETS]
To many of his hearers that which he required was a very painful
sacrifice. Many had been born, and had passed all their lives, in the
country. They were attached to it, not merely by the profit or the
pleasure of rural pursuits, but by domestic and religious associations.
For though the incorporation of the Attic townships had for ages
extinguished their political independence, it had not interrupted
their religious traditions, or effaced the peculiar features of their
local worship; and hence the Attic countryman clung to his deme with
a fondness which he could not feel for the great city. In the period
of increasing prosperity which had followed the Persian invasion, the
country had been cultivated and adorned more assiduously than ever. All
was now to be left or carried away. Reluctantly they adopted the decree
which Pericles proposed; and, with heavy hearts, as if going into exile,
they quitted their native and hereditary seats. If the rich man sighed
to part from his elegant villa, the husbandman still more deeply felt
the pang of being torn from his home, and of abandoning his beloved
fields, the scenes of his infancy, the holy places where his forefathers
had worshipped, to the ravages of a merciless invader. All however was
removed: the flocks and cattle to Eubœa and other adjacent islands; all
beside that was portable, and even the timber of the houses, into Athens,
to which they themselves migrated with their families.
The city itself was not prepared for the sudden influx of so many new
inhabitants. A few found shelter under the roofs of relatives or friends;
but the greater part, on their arrival, found themselves houseless as
well as homeless. Some took refuge in such temples as were usually open;
others occupied the towers of the walls; others raised temporary hovels
on any vacant ground which they could find in the city, and even resorted
for this purpose to a site which had hitherto been guarded from all such
uses by policy, aided by a religious sanction. It was the place under the
western wall of the citadel, called, from the ancient builders of the
wall, the Pelasgicum: a curse had been pronounced on any one who should
tenant it; and men remembered some words of an oracle, which declared
it _better untrodden_. The real motive for the prohibition was probably
the security of the citadel; but all police seems to have been suspended
by the urgency of the occasion. It was some time before the newcomers
bethought themselves of spreading over the vacant space between the long
walls, or of descending to Piræus. But this foretaste of the evils of
war did not damp the general ardour, especially that of the youthful
spirits, which began at Athens, as elsewhere, to be impatient of repose.
Numberless oracles and predictions were circulated, in which every one
found something that accorded with the tone of his feelings. Even those
who had no definite hopes, fears, or wishes shared the excitement of
men on the eve of a great crisis. The holy island of Delos had been
recently shaken by an earthquake. It was forgotten, or was never known
out of Delos itself, that this had happened already, just before the
first Persian invasion. It was deemed a portent, which signified new and
extraordinary events, and it was soon combined with other prodigies,
which tended to encourage similar forebodings. Such was the state in
which the Athenians awaited the advance of the Peloponnesian army.[c]
Adolf Holm[e] compares the Periclean policy of voluntary reconcentration
with the acts of the Dutch, when in the sixteenth century they let the
Spanish destroy their crops, and then opened the dikes and flooded their
own country. We may compare also the compulsory reconcentration of the
country people in the cities as carried out by General Weyler in Cuba, in
1897, and by Lord Kitchener in South Africa, in 1901.[a]
THE FIRST YEAR’S RAVAGE
Archidamus, as soon as the reception of his last envoy was made known to
him, continued his march from the isthmus into Attica--which territory he
entered by the road of Œnoe, the frontier Athenian fortress of Attica
towards Bœotia. His march, was slow, and he thought it necessary to make
a regular attack on the fort of Œnoe, which had been put in so good a
state of defence that, after all the various modes of assault--in which
the Lacedæmonians were not skilful--had been tried in vain, and after a
delay of several days before the place, he was compelled to renounce the
attempt.
The want of enthusiasm on the part of the Spartan king, his multiplied
delays, first at the isthmus, next in the march, and lastly before Œnoe,
were all offensive to the fiery impatience of the army, who were loud in
their murmurs against him. He acted upon the calculation already laid
down in his discourse at Sparta--that the highly cultivated soil of
Attica was to be looked upon as a hostage for the pacific dispositions of
the Athenians, who would be more likely to yield when devastation, though
not yet inflicted, was nevertheless impending and at their doors. In this
point of view, a little delay at the border was no disadvantage; and
perhaps the partisans of peace at Athens may have encouraged him to hope
that it would enable them to prevail.
After having spent several days before Œnoe without either taking the
fort or receiving any message from the Athenians, Archidamus marched
onward to Eleusis and the Thriasian plain--about the middle of June,
eighty days after the surprise of Platæa. His army was of irresistible
force, not less than sixty thousand hoplites, according to the statement
of Plutarch, or of one hundred thousand, according to others. Considering
the number of constituent allies, the strong feeling by which they were
prompted, and the shortness of the expedition combined with the chance of
plunder, even the largest of these two numbers is not incredibly great,
if we take it to include not hoplites only, but cavalry and light armed
also. But as Thucydides, though comparatively full in his account of this
march, has stated no general total, we may presume that he had heard none
upon which he could rely.
As the Athenians had made no movement towards peace, Archidamus
anticipated that they would come forth to meet him in the fertile plain
of Eleusis and Thria, which was the first portion of territory that he
sat down to ravage. Yet no Athenian force appeared to oppose him, except
a detachment of cavalry, who were repulsed in a skirmish near the small
lakes called Rheiti. Having laid waste this plain without any serious
opposition, Archidamus did not think fit to pursue the straight road
which from Thria conducted directly to Athens across the ridge of Mount
Ægaleos, but turned off to the eastward, leaving that mountain on his
right hand until he came to Cropia, where he crossed a portion of the
line of Ægaleos over to Acharnæ.
He was here about seven miles from Athens, on a declivity sloping down
into the plain which stretches westerly and northwesterly from Athens,
and visible from the city walls; and here he encamped, keeping his army
in perfect order for battle, but at the same time intending to damage
and ruin the place and its neighbourhood. Acharnæ was the largest and
most populous of all the demes in Attica, furnishing no less than three
thousand hoplites to the national line, and flourishing as well by its
corn, vines, and olives, as by its peculiar abundance of charcoal burning
from the forests of ilex on the neighbouring hills. Moreover, if we are
to believe Aristophanes, the Acharnian proprietors were not merely sturdy
“hearts of oak,” but peculiarly vehement and irritable. It illustrates
the condition of a Grecian territory under invasion, when we find this
great deme, which could not have contained less than twelve thousand
free inhabitants of both sexes and all ages, with at least an equal
number of slaves, completely deserted. Archidamus calculated that when
the Athenians actually saw his troops so close to their city, carrying
fire and sword over their wealthiest canton, their indignation would
become uncontrollable, and they would march out forthwith to battle.
The Acharnian proprietors especially (he thought) would be foremost
in inflaming this temper, and insisting upon protection to their own
properties--or if the remaining citizens refused to march out along with
them, they would, after having been thus left undefended to ruin, become
discontented and indifferent to the general weal.
Though his calculation was not realised, it was nevertheless founded
upon most rational grounds. What Archidamus anticipated was on the point
of happening, and nothing prevented it except the personal ascendency
of Pericles, strained to its very utmost. So long as the invading army
was engaged in the Thriasian plain, the Athenians had some faint hope
that it might (like Plistoanax fourteen years before) advance no farther
into the interior. But when it came to Acharnæ within sight of the city
walls--when the ravagers were actually seen destroying buildings, fruit
trees, and crops, in the plain of Athens, a sight strange to every
Athenian eye except to those very old men who recollected the Persian
invasion--the exasperation of the general body of citizens rose to a
pitch never before known. The Acharnians first of all--next the youthful
citizens, generally--became madly clamorous for arming and going forth to
fight. Knowing well their own great strength, but less correctly informed
of the superior strength of the enemy, they felt confident that victory
was within their reach. Groups of citizens were everywhere gathered
together, angrily debating the critical question of the moment; while the
usual concomitants of excited feeling--oracles and prophecies of diverse
tenor, many of them doubtless promising success against the enemy at
Acharnæ--were eagerly caught up and circulated.
In this inflamed temper of the Athenian mind, Pericles was naturally
the great object of complaint and wrath. He was denounced as the
cause of all the existing suffering: he was reviled as a coward for
not leading out the citizens to fight, in his capacity of general:
the rational convictions as to the necessity of the war and the only
practical means of carrying it on, which his repeated speeches had
implanted, seemed to be altogether forgotten. This burst of spontaneous
discontent was of course fomented by the numerous political enemies of
Pericles, and particularly by Cleon,[47] now rising into importance as an
opposition-speaker; whose talent for invective was thus first exercised
under the auspices of the high aristocratical party, as well as of an
excited public.
But no manifestations, however violent, could disturb either the judgment
or the firmness of Pericles. He listened unmoved to all the declarations
made against him, resolutely refusing to convene a public assembly, or
any meeting invested with an authorised character, under the present
irritated temper of the citizens. It appears that he as general, or
rather the board of ten generals among whom he was one, must have been
invested constitutionally with the power not only of calling the ecclesia
when they thought fit, but also of preventing it from meeting, and of
postponing even those regular meetings which commonly took place at
fixed times, four times in the prytany. No assembly accordingly took
place, and the violent exasperation of the people was thus prevented from
realising itself in any rash public resolution. That Pericles should have
held firm against this raging force, is but one among the many honourable
points in his political character; but it is far less wonderful than the
fact that his refusal to call the ecclesia was efficacious to prevent the
ecclesia from being held. The entire body of Athenians were now assembled
within the walls, and if he refused to convoke the ecclesia, they might
easily have met in the Pnyx without him; for which it would not have been
difficult at such a juncture to provide plausible justification. The
inviolable respect which the Athenian people manifested on this occasion
for the forms of their democratical constitution--assisted doubtless by
their long-established esteem for Pericles, yet opposed to an excitement
alike intense and pervading, and to a demand apparently reasonable, in so
far as regarded the calling of an assembly for discussion--is one of the
most memorable incidents in their history.
While Pericles thus decidedly forbade any general march out for battle
he sought to provide as much employment as possible for the compressed
eagerness of the citizens. The cavalry were sent forth, together with
the Thessalian cavalry their allies, for the purpose of restraining the
excursions of the enemy’s light troops, and protecting the lands near the
city from plunder. At the same time he fitted out a powerful expedition,
which sailed forth to ravage Peloponnesus, even while the invaders
were yet in Attica. Archidamus, after having remained engaged in the
devastation of Acharnæ long enough to satisfy himself that the Athenians
would not hazard a battle, turned away from Athens in a northwesterly
direction towards the demes between Mount Brilessus and Mount Parnes,
on the road passing through Decelea. The army continued ravaging these
districts until their provisions were exhausted, and then quitted Attica
by the northwestern road near Oropus, which brought them into Bœotia. As
the Oropians, though not Athenians, were yet dependent upon Athens--the
district of Græa, a portion of their territory, was laid waste; after
which the army dispersed and retired back to their respective homes.
It would seem that they quitted Attica towards the end of July, having
remained in the country between thirty and forty days.
Meanwhile, the Athenian expedition, under Caranus, Proteas, and Socrates,
joined by fifty Corcyræan ships and by some other allies, sailed round
Peloponnesus, landing in various parts to inflict damage, and among
other places at Methone (Modon), on the southwestern peninsula of the
Lacedæmonian territory. The place, neither strong nor well-garrisoned,
would have been carried with little difficulty, had not Brasidas, the
son of Tellis--a gallant Spartan now mentioned for the first time, but
destined to great celebrity afterwards--who happened to be on guard at
a neighbouring post, thrown himself into it with one hundred men by a
rapid movement, before the dispersed Athenian troops could be brought
together to prevent him. He infused such courage into the defenders of
the place that every attack was repelled, and the Athenians were forced
to re-embark--an act of prowess which procured for him the first public
honours bestowed by the Spartans during this war. Sailing northward
along the western coast of Peloponnesus, the Athenians landed again on
the coast of Elis, a little south of the promontory called Cape Ichthys:
they ravaged the territory for two days, defeating both the troops in
the neighbourhood and three hundred chosen men from the central Elean
territory. Strong winds on a harbourless coast now induced the captains
to sail with most of the troops round Cape Ichthys, in order to reach the
harbour of Phea on the northern side of it; while the Messenian hoplites,
marching by land across the promontory, attacked Phea and carried it by
assault. When the fleet arrived, all were re-embarked--the full force
of Elis being under march to attack them. They then sailed northward,
landing on various other spots to commit devastation, until they reached
Sollium, a Corinthian settlement on the coast of Acarnania. They
captured this place, which they handed over to the inhabitants of the
neighbouring Acarnanian town of Palærus, as well as Astacus, from whence
they expelled the despot Euarchus, and enrolled the town as a member of
the Athenian alliance. From hence they passed over to Cephallenia, which
they were fortunate enough also to acquire as an ally of Athens without
any compulsion--with its four distinct towns or districts, Pale, Cranii,
Same, and Proni. These various operations took up near three months from
about the beginning of July, so that they returned to Athens towards
the close of September--the beginning of the winter half of the year,
according to the distribution of Thucydides.
This was not the only maritime expedition of the summer. Thirty more
triremes, under Cleopompus, were sent through the Euripus to the Locrian
coast opposite to the northern part of Eubœa. Some disembarkations were
made, whereby the Locrian towns of Thronium and Alope were sacked, and
further devastation inflicted; while a permanent garrison was planted,
and a fortified post erected, in the uninhabited island of Atalante
opposite to the Locrian coast, in order to restrain privateers from Opus
and the other Locrian towns in their excursions against Eubœa. It was
further determined to expel the Æginetan inhabitants from Ægina, and to
occupy the island with Athenian colonists. This step was partly rendered
prudent by the important position of the island midway between Attica
and Peloponnesus. But a concurrent motive, and probably the stronger
motive, was the gratification of ancient antipathy and revenge against
a people who had been among the foremost in provoking the war and in
inflicting upon Athens so much suffering. The Æginetans, with their wives
and children, were all put on ship-board and landed in Peloponnesus,
where the Spartans permitted them to occupy the maritime district and
town of Thyrea, their last frontier towards Argos; some of them, however,
found shelter in other parts of Greece. The island was made over to a
detachment of Athenian cleruchs, or citizen proprietors, sent hither by
lot.
To the sufferings of the Æginetans, which we shall hereafter find still
more deplorably aggravated, we have to add those of the Megarians. Both
had been most zealous in kindling the war, but upon none did the distress
of war fall so heavily. Both probably shared the premature confidence
felt among the Peloponnesian confederacy, that Athens could never hold
out more than a year or two, and were thus induced to overlook their own
undefended position against her. Towards the close of September, the
full force of Athens, citizens and metics, marched into the Megarid,
under Pericles, and laid waste the greater part of the territory; while
they were in it, the hundred ships which had been circumnavigating
Peloponnesus, having arrived at Ægina on their return, joined their
fellow citizens in the Megarid, instead of going straight home. The
junction of the two formed the largest Athenian force that had ever yet
been seen together; there were ten thousand citizen hoplites (independent
of three thousand others who were engaged in the siege of Potidæa), and
three thousand metic hoplites, besides a large number of light troops.
Against so large a force the Megarians could make no head, so that their
territory was all laid waste, even to the city walls. For several years
of the war, the Athenians inflicted this destruction once, and often
twice in the same year. A decree was proposed in the Athenian ecclesia
by Charinus, though perhaps not carried, to the effect that the strategi
every year should swear, as a portion of their oath of office, that they
would twice invade and ravage the Megarid. As the Athenians at the same
time kept the port of Nisæa blocked up, by means of their superior naval
force and of the neighbouring coast of Salamis, the privations imposed
on the Megarians became extreme and intolerable. Not only their corn
and fruits, but even their garden vegetables were rooted up, and their
situation was that of a besieged city pressed by famine. Even in the time
of Pausanias, many centuries afterward, the miseries of the town during
these years were remembered and communicated to him, being assigned
as the reason why one of their most memorable statues had never been
completed.
To the various military operations of Athens during the course of
this summer, some other measures of moment are to be added. Moreover,
Thucydides notices an eclipse of the sun, which modern astronomical
calculations refer to the third of August; had this eclipse happened
three months earlier, immediately before the entrance of the
Peloponnesians into Attica, it might probably have been construed as an
unfavourable omen, and caused the postponement of the scheme. Expecting
a prolonged struggle, the Athenians now made arrangements for placing
Attica in a permanent state of defence, both by sea and land; what
these arrangements were, we are not told in detail, but one of them was
sufficiently remarkable to be named particularly. They set apart one
thousand talents [£200,000 or $1,000,000] out of the treasure in the
Acropolis as an inviolable reserve, not to be touched except on the
single contingency of a hostile naval force about to assail the city,
with no other means at hand to defend it. They further enacted that if
any citizen should propose, or any magistrate put the question, in the
public assembly, to make any different application of this reserve, he
should be punishable with death. Moreover, they resolved every year to
keep back one hundred of their best triremes, and trierarchs to command
and equip them, for the same special necessity. It may be doubted whether
this latter provision was placed under the same stringent sanction, or
observed with the same rigour, as that concerning the money; which latter
was not departed from until the twentieth year of the war, after all
the disasters of the Sicilian expedition, and on the terrible news of
the revolt of Chios. It was on that occasion that the Athenians first
repealed the sentence of capital punishment against the proposer of
this forbidden change, and next appropriated the money to meet the then
imminent peril of the commonwealth.
The resolution here taken about this sacred reserve, and the rigorous
sentence interdicting contrary propositions, is pronounced by Mitford[48]
to be an evidence of the indelible barbarism of democratical government.
But we must recollect, first, that the sentence of capital punishment
was one which could hardly by possibility come into execution; for no
citizen would be so mad as to make the forbidden proposition while
this law was in force. Whoever desired to make it would first begin
by proposing to repeal the prohibitory law, whereby he would incur no
danger, whether the assembly decided in the affirmative or negative; and
if he obtained an affirmative decision he would then, and then only,
proceed to move the re-appropriation of the fund. To speak the language
of English parliamentary procedure, he would first move the suspension or
abrogation of the standing order whereby the proposition was forbidden;
next, he would move the proposition itself; in fact, such was the mode
actually pursued, when the thing at last came to be done. But though
the capital sentence could hardly come into effect, the proclamation
of it _in terrorem_ had a very distinct meaning. It expressed the deep
and solemn conviction which the people entertained of the importance of
their own resolution about the reserve; it forewarned all assemblies and
all citizens to come of the danger of diverting it to any other purpose;
it surrounded the reserve with an artificial sanctity, which forced
every man who aimed at the re-appropriation to begin with a preliminary
proposition formidable on the very face of it, as removing a guarantee
which previous assemblies had deemed of immense value, and opening the
door to a contingency which they had looked upon as treasonable. The
proclamation of a lighter punishment, or a simple prohibition without
any definite sanction whatever, would neither have announced the same
emphatic conviction, nor produced the same deterring effect. The assembly
of 431 B.C. could not in any way enact laws which subsequent assemblies
could not reverse; but it could so frame its enactments, in cases of
peculiar solemnity, as to make its authority strongly felt upon the
judgment of its successors, and to prevent them from entertaining motions
for repeal except under necessity at once urgent and obvious.
Far from thinking that the law now passed at Athens displayed barbarism,
either in the end or in the means, we consider it principally remarkable
for its cautious and long-sighted view of the future--qualities the exact
reverse of barbarism--and worthy of the general character of Pericles,
who probably suggested it. Athens was just entering into a war which
threatened to be of indefinite length, and was certain to be very costly.
To prevent the people from exhausting all their accumulated fund, and
to place them under a necessity of reserving something against extreme
casualties, was an object of immense importance. Now the particular
casualty, which Pericles (assuming him to be the proposer) named as the
sole condition of touching this one thousand talents, might be considered
as of all others the most improbable, in the year 431 B.C. So immense
was then the superiority of the Athenian naval force, that to suppose
it defeated, and a Peloponnesian fleet in full sail for Piræus, was
a possibility which it required a statesman of extraordinary caution
to look forward to, and which it is truly wonderful that the people
generally could have been induced to contemplate. Once tied up to this
purpose, however, the fund lay ready for any other terrible emergency:
and we shall find the actual employment of it incalculably beneficial
to Athens, at a moment of the gravest peril, when she could hardly have
protected herself without some such special resource. The people would
scarcely have sanctioned so rigorous an economy, had it not been proposed
to them at a period so early in the war that their available reserve
was still much larger. But it will be forever to the credit of their
foresight as well as constancy, that they should first have adopted such
a precautionary measure, and afterwards adhered to it for nineteen years,
under severe pressure for money, until at length a case arose which
rendered further abstinence really, and not constructively, impossible.
To display their force and take revenge by disembarking and ravaging
parts of the Peloponnesus, was doubtless of much importance to Athens
during this first summer of the war: though it might seem that the force
so employed was quite as much needed in the conquest of Potidæa, which
still remained under blockade, and of the neighbouring Chalcidians in
Thrace, still in revolt. It was during the course of this summer that a
prospect opened to Athens of subduing these towns, through the assistance
of Sitalces, king of the Odrysian Thracians. That prince had married the
sister of Nymphodorus, a citizen of Abdera; who engaged to render him,
and his son Sadocus, allies of Athens. Sent for to Athens and appointed
proxenus of Athens at Abdera, which was one of the Athenian subject
allies, Nymphodorus made this alliance, and promised in the name of
Sitalces that a sufficient Thracian force should be sent to aid Athens in
the reconquest of her revolted towns: the honour of Athenian citizenship
was at the same time conferred upon Sadocus. Nymphodorus further
established a good understanding between Perdiccas II of Macedonia and
the Athenians, who were persuaded to restore to him Therma, which they
had before taken from him. The Athenians had thus the promise of powerful
aid against the Chalcidians and Potidæans: yet the latter still held
out, with little prospect of immediate surrender. Moreover, the town of
Astacus in Acarnania, which the Athenians had captured during the summer,
in the course of their expedition round Peloponnesus, was recovered
during the autumn by the deposed despot Euarchus, assisted by forty
Corinthian triremes and one thousand hoplites. This Corinthian armament,
after restoring Euarchus, made some unsuccessful descents both upon other
parts of Acarnania and upon the island of Cephallenia: in the latter
they were entrapped into an ambuscade and obliged to return home with
considerable loss.[b]
FOOTNOTES
[47] “Cleon,” says Thucydides, “attacked him with great acrimony, making
use of the general resentment against Pericles, as a means to increase
his own popularity, as Hermippus testifies in these verses:
“‘Sleeps then, thou king of Satyrs, sleeps the spear,
While thundering words make war? Why boast thy prowess,
Yet shudder at the sound of sharpened swords,
Spite of the flaming Cleon?’”
[48] “A measure followed which, taking place at the time when Thucydides
wrote and Pericles spoke, and while Pericles held the principal influence
in the administration, strongly marks,” says Mr. Mitford, “both the
inherent weakness and the indelible barbarism of democratical government.
A decree of the people directed that a thousand talents should be set
apart in the treasury in the citadel, as a deposit, not to be touched
unless the enemy should attack the city by sea; a circumstance which
implied the prior ruin of the Athenian fleet, and the only one, it was
supposed, which could superinduce the ruin of the commonwealth. But
in a decree so important, sanctioned only by the present will of that
giddy tyrant, the multitude of Athens, against whose caprices, since
the depression of the court of Areopagus, no balancing power remained,
confidence so failed that the denunciation of capital punishment was
added against whosoever should propose, and whosoever should concur in,
any decree for the disposal of that money to any other purpose, or in
any other circumstances. It was at the same time ordered, by the same
authority, that a hundred triremes should be yearly selected, the best of
the fleet, to be employed on the same occasion only.”
[Illustration: GREEK TERRA-COTTA
(In the British Museum)]
[Illustration]