THERMOPYLÆ.
It was fortunate for the Greek cause that the council which met at
the Isthmus after the withdrawal from Tempe had at its disposal the
information necessary for forming a true estimate of the circumstances
of the time. It knew that no help was to come from outside the mainland
of Greece. It knew that Thessaly was lost, and that Bœotia, East
Locris, Phocis, and Doris, and last, though not least, Eubœa, must be
lost also, unless some prompt action were taken to save the situation
in those parts. And so, says Herodotus, “the Greeks, on coming to the
Isthmus, took counsel together, in view of what Alexander had told
them, as to where and in what parts they should establish the defence.”
The opinion which prevailed was, that they should guard the pass of
Thermopylæ, which they thought was narrower than the pass in Thessaly,
and nearer to their base. “They determined therefore to guard this
pass, and so prevent the passage of the barbarian into Greece, and that
the naval force should sail to Artemisium in the land of Histiæotis.”
There is no part of Greece where the strategical situation is so marked
as in the line of defence which runs along Mount Œta. Malis is verily
the entering in of the gate of Greece. The barrier of Mount Œta, the
tremendous nature of which can only be appreciated by those who have
seen it and traversed it, formed in a very real way the true boundary
of the land, and was recognized as such by the Greek historians of this
and after time. The Hellenism of the lands beyond it was a mere
shadow of the reality. Thessaly, in that widest sense which included in
the name all that lay between Œta, Pindus, and the Cambunian Mountains,
was in respect to civilization a debateable land, in which the
“barbarism” of the outer world to a great extent held sway. Nature had
so ordained it by an immutable decree when she raised Œta to be alike a
defence and a barrier to the Hellenism of the lands south of it.
Malis is separated from the plain of Thessaly by the range of Othrys.
This line of mountains is not of a uniform character. It branches
off from the backbone of Pindus in the West as a comparatively low
range, through which numerous paths, practicable at any rate for an
army without a large baggage train, lead into the upper valley of the
Spercheios,—the upper plain of Malis. As a main line of communication,
however, from the north, these paths are for two reasons comparatively
unimportant. In the first place, the two great roads through
Thessaly,—that from Larisa by way of Krannon to Thaumaki, and that from
Larisa to Thebes in Phthiotis,—afford but an extremely circuitous route
to their northern entrances; and, again, when these paths do reach the
upper plain of Malis, they are not continued southwards by any direct
routes across the chain of Œta; and it is necessary to traverse the
whole length of the Malian plain to the neighbourhood of Thermopylæ
before any practicable way leading south can be found. They could only
have been of strategic importance in this campaign had the Greeks
attempted to defend the eastern passes of Othrys, in which case the
Persians, by using them, could without much difficulty have turned the
defence.
[Illustration: MOUNT ŒTA AND PLAIN OF MALIS.
_From Sketch by E. Lear._]
[_To face page_ 259.
]
The part of Othrys east of the longitude of Lamia is of a loftier and
much more difficult character. It is rather a mass of mountains than
a single range. Viewed from Thermopylæ it presents the appearance of
a series of cones and ridges rising towards a central point, where it
attains a height of over six thousand feet. There are only two passes
through it which are practicable for an army with baggage; these may
be called respectively the pass of Thaumaki, and the pass of Thebes
in Phthiotis. #MARCH OF THE PERSIANS.# The pass of Thaumaki is a
direct continuation of the great route by way of Krannon. At Thaumaki
itself it is eminently defensible, as the rise from the Thessalian
plain is abrupt, and the road traverses a narrow ravine. From that
point southward the pass is not a difficult one. It enters the Malian
plain at Lamia.
The second of the two passages is more or less of a coast road,
skirting first the shores of the Pagasætic Gulf, and later those of the
Euripus and Malian Gulf. It debouched on the Malian plain at Phalara,
a small town which stood within half a mile of the modern Stylida and
about six miles from Lamia, by which latter town also the road must
have passed. It is possible that Lamia was not effectively fortified in
480. Still, the occupation of it could only have harassed, not stopped,
the invading army, since, owing to the presence of the fleet, the real
line of communication was on the sea.
◆H. vii. 196.◆
From two incidents mentioned in Herodotus it is evident that the
Persians adopted both these lines of advance. ◆H. vii. 196.◆ He says
that the numbers of the Persian army were so large, that of the rivers
of Achaia even the largest, the Apidanos, barely sufficed for its
purposes. This indicates the use of the Krannon-Thaumaki route.
The visit of Xerxes to Halos indicates that he, with part of his army,
took the coast route.
It was after entering the Malian plain that the real difficulties of
the campaign began. Xerxes and his army were face to face with Mount
Œta. It may be well to realize in so far as possible the prospect which
would meet his eye when, after completing the passage round Othrys,
he arrived at Phalara From that point of view nearly the whole length
of Œta would be extended before him as he faced southwards. Away to
the south-west, at a distance of from twelve to fifteen miles, stands
the highest and most imposing mass of the range, a great hummock
crowned by four or five peaks. The hummock itself rises some five
thousand feet almost sheer from the plain, and the peaks on it rise
some fifteen hundred feet more. In full view from Phalara, too, would
be that tremendous ravine, a dark, wedge-shaped cut in the side of the
mountain, which a comparatively small stream has hollowed out
to a depth of four thousand feet. As the eye travels eastward along
the range there is a decrease in the actual height of it, the general
level of the ridge being perhaps not more than four thousand feet. But
the face towards the plain is marked by the broad black band of those
famous rocks the Trachinian cliffs. They end suddenly towards the east,
where a thin, perpendicular, black streak in the mountain side marks
the exit of the great ravine of the Asopos.
It is a magnificent picture; but the background is as magnificent as
the picture itself. High as the range is, there rises above it in the
distance, behind the four-thousand-foot ridge, the great peak of Giona.
Though it is one of the most impressive peaks in Greece, its ancient
name is unknown. It is far away among the confused mass of the great
ranges of Northern Ætolia; and yet it seems so near when it is lit
up by the last rays of the setting sun, while all the foreground of
the broad Malian plain, and even of Œta, is involved in the deep blue
shadow of the eastern twilight. It rises from the east towards heaven
in a long, gradually ascending ridge, becoming steeper in the final
effort of its climb. Then, the highest summit once attained, it falls
sheer down into a valley of misty gloom.
[Illustration: THE GORGE OF THE ASOPOS.
[_To face page 261._
]
[Illustration: ASOPOS RAVINE.
[_To face page 261._
]
Immediately east of the Asopos defile the chain of Œta is at its
lowest, barely three thousand feet high, and it is over this part of
the range that the modern road is carried. The difficulties of passing
it do not, however, decrease in proportion to its height, and no
military way or path seems to have been practicable at this point.[109]
Farther east the range rises again into peaks of nearly five thousand
feet, faced towards the north by the great cliffs which overhang the
pass of Thermopylæ. #MT. ŒTA AND THE ASOPOS RAVINE.# Here the Malian
Gulf and not the plain forms the foreground of the picture, across
which, at a distance of eight or nine miles, a white line can be
discerned at the base of the cliffs, the great sulphur deposit of the
warm springs. This part of the Œta range was known as Kallidromos.
Away beyond Thermopylæ it extends towards the Euripus under the name
of Knemis, gradually bending in a more southerly direction down the
channel, until it is lost in the distance towards Atalanta. Behind it
and above it rises the great grey mass of Parnassus.
This very difficult range is rather turned than pierced by the pass of
Thermopylæ, the actual passage through the chain being many miles south
of the pass itself.
There is one point with reference to it which is not always recognized.
There was and is a second pass[110] through it leading direct to the
Dorian plain by way of the great ravine of the Asopos, a pass, too, of
which the Persian army actually made use after Thermopylæ had been won.
It would seem strange at first sight that the Persian generals, when
they found Thermopylæ so hard to force, did not nullify the defence of
it by marching into Doris this way.
The defile of the Asopos issues abruptly on to the Malian plain some
three and a half to four miles west of the Western Gate of Thermopylæ.
Its bottom is merely formed of the stony river bed, at first some fifty
yards wide, but rapidly contracting, until a little farther up the
chasm it is only twelve feet wide between absolutely sheer cliffs from
seven to nine hundred feet high. This winding rift in the mountains
continues for some three and a half miles from the entrance, and then
suddenly broadens out into a wide upland valley, behind the range of
Œta, from which there is a long but not difficult passage to the Dorian
plain.[111] This valley was, no doubt, the land of those Œteans whom
Thucydides mentions in his account of the circumstances leading to the
foundation of Heraklea Trachinia.
Another important point with regard to this route is, that it
was not merely the direct road to Delphi from the north, but the only
direct road. As such it must have been in frequent use, and, in the
flourishing days of the Delphi-Thermopylæ Amphictyony, of considerable
importance. It was, of course, by reason of its very nature, liable
to interruption by even a slight rise of the Asopos; and the frequent
storms which traverse the Malian plain even in summer render such a
possibility perennial. But even so it is a strange thing that in Greek
military history it is never used as a means of avoiding direct assault
on Thermopylæ.[112]
[Illustration: THERMOPYLAE, FROM BRIDGE OF ALAMANA.
_From Sketch by E. Lear._]
1. Site of Upper Drakospilia.
2. Mount Kallidromos.
3. Cliffs of West Gate.
[_To face page_ 263.
]
#THERMOPYLÆ AND ATREMISIUM.#
The true significance of the step which the council at the Isthmus
took in deciding to send a land force to Thermopylæ and the fleet
to Artemisium can only be appreciated if the intimate strategical
connection between the two places be realised. The dual nature of
the Persian advance necessitated a dual form of defence. Had the
invading force been merely a land army, the defence of the pass
of Thermopylæ alone would have been sufficient; but it is evident that
the Greeks fully appreciated the uselessness of attempting the defence
of that pass, if the Persian fleet were left free to land a large body
of troops in rear of it, and so turn the defence. Successful defence of
Thermopylæ was then absolutely dependent upon successful defence of the
Euripus.
[Illustration: VIEW FROM THERMOPYLÆ, LOOKING TOWARDS ARTEMISIUM.
1. Malian Gulf.
2. Mount Othrys (circ. 15 1⁄2 miles).
3. Northern Branch of Euripus.
4. Site of Alpenoi.
5. Hills of North-west Eubœa.
]
[Illustration: CHANNEL OF ARTEMISIUM, FROM 1600 FEET ABOVE THERMOPYLÆ.
1. Malian Gulf.
2. Mount Othrys.
3. Northern Branch of Euripus.
4. Hills of North-west Eubœa.
5. Euripus.
[_To face page_ 264.
]
#DEFENCE OF THE STRAIT A NECESSITY.#
But there were other reasons which pointed not merely to the necessity
of defending the Euripus, but of establishing the defence of the
channel at the point at which it was established—at Artemisium.
[Illustration: ON THERMOPYLÆ-ELATÆA ROAD (_viâ_ MODERN BOUDENITZA).
_From Sketch by E. Lear._]
1. Mount Othrys.
2. Malian Gulf.
3. Deposit at Mouth of Spercheios.
[_To face page_ 265.
]
◆Paus. x. 21.◆
It was plainly important that the enemy’s fleet should be excluded from
the Malian Gulf. The road eastwards from Thermopylæ runs by the side
of the Gulf for a long distance after it has issued from the east gate
of the pass; and it would have been fatal to the defenders had troops
been landed there, since they would have been within short striking
distance of the Greek position, and so have rendered any escape by
way of the mountain path which leads by the modern Boudenitza to the
Phocian plain at Elatea difficult, if not impossible. But there was a
further possibility of which the Greek commanders must have been aware,
and against which they would have to provide. If it was possible 200
years after this time for the Athenian galleys to sail close in shore
and attack the flank of the army of Brennus when it was assailing the
narrow part of the pass, there must have been a very much greater
possibility of this being done in the year 480. On this rapidly
advancing shore that which was done in 279 B.C. with difficulty, and
not without danger, must conceivably have been a comparatively easy
matter in 480.
There was a further danger to be feared, supposing the northern bend
of the strait had been left open. Landing on the north coast of Eubœa,
a Persian force might have made its way to Chalets, and so have turned
Thermopylæ. In the wars of later Greece this was a measure recognized
as possible and actually put in practice by combatants commanding this
part of the strait. The Greeks were undoubtedly right in the choice of
Artemisium. As a naval station it possessed two further advantages: the
strait was comparatively narrow at that point, and, above all, it was
within sight of Thermopylæ.
From the hillside above the road through the pass, only 150 feet above
the level of the plain, the view extends right down this northern bend
of the Euripus. From a point still higher up, some 1600 feet above
the road, the whole channel is extended like a map. Signalling from
one position to the other by means of the smoke and fire signals
then used must have been quite easy, and it would be even possible from
this higher position at Thermopylæ to observe the movements of large
bodies of ships in the neighbourhood of Artemisium, though, owing to
the distance, a single ship would hardly be discernible to the naked
eye. It is quite clear that Herodotus was aware of the intimacy of the
relation between the two positions.[113]
The strategic capacity of those who were responsible for the Greek
plans in the war of 480 was never more advantageously displayed than in
this design of the dual defence of the pass and the strait. Had it been
carried out with equal wisdom, or even with more harmonious vigour,
Greece might perhaps have been spared the losses and anxiety of the
year that followed.
On the general question of Greek strategy let it be remarked at this,
the outset of the story of the great events of the war, that it is
unquestionably wrong to judge of it on the mere evidence of the direct
statements made by Herodotus. What may be derived from him is rarely
more than the mere narrative of events as related to him at the time,
long subsequent to the events themselves, when he made the collection
of material for his history. It is only too easy to imagine that the
strategical motives underlying those events, which cannot, even at the
time at which they were operative, have been known to many, must have
vanished from the popular story, even if they ever had any place in
it. It may also be doubted whether Herodotus would have been qualified
to appreciate fully such motives had the record of them survived until
his own day. What he has given to the world is the popular story
of the Persian war, distorted, it may be, at times by imaginative
additions, but, in so far as can be seen, drawn in the main from
veracious sources. The historian himself wanted to get at the truth
about the war. He brought to bear upon his material a certain amount
of critical acumen which the extreme simplicity of his language has a
tendency to conceal. #HERODOTUS AND STRATEGIC QUESTIONS.# In military
history he seems to have been under the disadvantage of lack of
practical experience; and consequently where he makes statements of
cause they are often unconvincing, sometimes demonstrably wrong. But
he made an honest endeavour to correct such errors as might arise from
his own inexperience by visiting the scenes of the great events which
he describes. His descriptions of the regions of Thermopylæ and Platæa
are undoubtedly those of an eye-witness; Salamis he must, Mykale he
may well have seen. He supplies consequently a vast accumulation of
reliable facts which make it possible in many cases to reconstruct
the design which lay behind them; and by that means it may be seen
that the Greek Council of War, in spite of its divisions, in spite of
half-hearted compromise of plans, was composed of men, some of whom, at
any rate, were quite able to grasp the large strategical considerations
involved in a war far greater than any of which they had had experience.
[Illustration: MAP SHOWING PASSES OF MOUNT OETA AND CONNECTION BETWEEN
ARTEMISIUM & THERMOPYLAE
London: John Murray, Albemarle Street.
_Stanford’s Geog^l. Estab^t. London._
]
The general design, then, in accordance with which the Greek forces
took up their position at Thermopylæ and Artemisium was in conception
admirable. For one of those mysterious reasons which so often recur in
Greek history, it was but half executed; and yet, in spite of this, it
only just fell short of a great success.[114]
If any criticism of the Greek plan of holding Thermopylæ is to
hold good, it must be based on the existence of the Asopos ravine,
which, in spite of the making of the new road, is still used by the
natives as a means of communication between the two plains.
Why did not Xerxes make use of this road?
The reasons for his not using it can only be stated conjecturally.
It is quite possible that he never discovered the existence of any sort
of road that way until Ephialtes led his men up it to reach the path of
the Anopæa. To one standing at the mouth of the ravine, it has all the
appearance of a mere torrent bed leading up among the hills.
#THE ASOPOS RAVINE.#
It is in any case hardly conceivable that any considerable force could
make its way through it with the commissariat train which would be its
necessary accompaniment. There is only just room for a loaded mule amid
the great boulders which block its bed. The Greeks were probably aware
of this.
It is also probable that the supplies for the Persian army had run
somewhat low. It had executed a march of many days without the
possibility of direct communication with the fleet, and the taking
of the coast road may have become a necessity. Xerxes may well have
expected to be able to re-open communications with the fleet almost
immediately. He evidently supposed that it would have no difficulty in
forcing the channel of the Euripus.
In failing, then, to take measures for the defence of this ravine,
as well as for the passage of Thermopylæ, it is possible that the
Greeks were guilty of an error; but it was an error of a minor kind.
The excellence of the general plan of adopting the Thermopylæ and
Artemisium line is not affected by it.
From the little that is known of those who were responsible for
the general conduct of the war, it would seem highly probable
that this great design was the work of Themistocles,—a view which
is confirmed by Herodotus’ account of the events which happened at
Artemisium. This extraordinary man seems, according to the practically
unanimous verdict of his own and after times, to have been endowed with
unusual capacity, which, in so far as a judgment can now be formed
upon the matter, appears to have consisted largely in a most marked
and unusual power of insight into the nature of the ruling factor in
a great situation. It was combined with an indomitable persistence in
attaining the end in view. In the present instance he had to exercise
this latter quality to the full.
The fact which stands out with most prominence in the general history
of the war of 480–479, is that the Peloponnesian Greeks were ever
hankering after the Isthmus as the line of defence against the huge
Persian expedition. Not merely one, but apparently several fortified
lines had been already begun there.
On the other hand, there existed a party in the Council, composed,
it may well be imagined, almost wholly, if not exclusively, of the
representatives of Athens on that body, who insisted on the necessity
of adopting some stronger line, and one sufficiently far north to
save the Northern States from compulsory medism. The advocates of
this Northern policy made up for the smallness of their numbers
by their vigour and intelligence; but the decisive factor in the
situation was the Athenian fleet. The selfish Corinthian trader and
the ignorant Peloponnesian farmer were, from sheer inexperience and
want of knowledge, utterly impervious to any argument founded on even
the most elementary strategic considerations, and do not even appear
to have fully recognized what the withdrawal of Athens and her fleet
from the defence would have meant to the patriot Greeks. Nothing
within their own meagre military experience could have taught them
the full significance of the dual nature of the Persian attack. #THE
PELOPONNESIAN POLICY.# Warfare as they understood it meant putting
on as much armour as a careful citizen could carry, and meeting a
similarly equipped foe on some piece of level ground, where he was
either ravaging or being ravaged. It was fortunate for the
Greek cause and for the advocates of the Northern policy that the
preponderant state in the Peloponnese consisted of a body of soldiers.
Stupid and dull of comprehension as the Spartan was when compared
with the quick-witted Athenian, yet even he must, from the very
circumstances of his life, since he lived for the profession of arms,
have acquired an elementary knowledge of the art of war, sufficient
to render him a capable judge of strategic questions, where the issue
was sufficiently plain. The Spartans were forced at this time into
an unwilling recognition of the fact that without the Athenian fleet
the defence must collapse; and the Athenians for their part made it
perfectly clear that, unless some effort was put forth on behalf of
Greece north of the Isthmus, Athenians and Athenian fleet alike would
vanish from Greece.
The outcome of this contention of interests was the determination to
defend Thermopylæ and Artemisium.
Drawing his history largely from Athenian sources, Herodotus brings
the selfishness of the Peloponnesian policy into special prominence.
Selfish, indeed, it must have seemed to the Greeks north of the
Isthmus, who probably recognized the strikingly defensible character
of the line formed by Œta, notwithstanding that their acquaintance
with the region north of the Bœotian plain seems to have been of an
imperfect character.[115]
But is it so strange that the Peloponnesian Greeks should have
preferred a defensive line which they did know, and in which they
believed, to one of which they had but imperfect knowledge? Some of
them had just been involved in what they must have regarded as a
fiasco,—that expedition to Thessaly.
Herodotus describes the decision to defend Thermopylæ as having
been taken immediately after the return from Thessaly. Whether that
was the case or not may be doubted. Herodotus himself, in another
passage, seems to imply that an interval occurred, at any rate between
the decision to defend Thermopylæ and the actual despatch of
troops thither. He mentions again the decision, and then describes
the despatch of troops from the Isthmus as having been made when the
Greeks “heard that the Persian was in Pieria.” Xerxes was at Abydos
when the expedition to Thessaly took place.[116] It is probable that
not a little time was spent in discussing the plan of defence. It is,
at any rate, quite plain from Herodotus’ account of Artemisium, that
a very large section of the Greeks there present longed to seize upon
any excuse for a retreat to the Isthmus. Was it, after all, considering
their knowledge at the moment, so selfish a policy to fix the defence
at a line in which they had some sort of confidence, rather than at
one where the chances of success were impossible of calculation?
The game they were playing must have seemed so desperate, that the
Peloponnesians may well have conceived it a wiser policy to try, with
some hope of success, to save a part of the land, than to attempt to
save all, with a prospect of disastrous failure. Selfish consideration
of their own special interests would naturally contribute to the
formation of their views on the strategical question; but, at the same
time, they had what must have seemed to them some very sound general
arguments in support of those views.
Herodotus shows quite clearly that there were times throughout the
whole period of the war when the contest between the two policies was
doubtful; times, too, when it seemed as if the Peloponnesian policy
must win the day. That they were all but in equilibrium at the time of
Artemisium, is evident. ◆Cf. H. vii. 206, _ad init._ and Diod. xi. 4.◆
The Northern policy had so far prevailed as to induce the Lacedæmonians
to make a plausible effort for the defence of the Northern Greeks,
who, if they thought themselves abandoned, would certainly refuse to
join in the defence of the Isthmus, and remaining at home, would be
forced to medize. #UNREALITY OF THE SPARTAN EFFORT.# On the other hand,
some practical demonstration of the apparent hopelessness of defending
Northern Greece, and of the apparent willingness of Sparta to make
some sacrifice on their behalf, might conceivably induce them to aid in
the defence of the Isthmus.
The tale of Thermopylæ is one of the strangest in the history of the
world, as well as one of the most famous. It is not merely that some of
the details of that most dramatic story are difficult to understand:
the motive of the main plot of the tragedy is obscure. Why was not the
defence of the pass a real effort on the part of those Greek states
which contributed to it? Of the unreality there can be no doubt.
Herodotus’ narrative makes it quite clear; and this is all the more
remarkable, as the historian himself is apparently wholly unaware that
what he relates will give this particular impression.
Thucydides had no illusions on the subject. In his account of the first
congress of the Peloponnesian allies preceding the Peloponnesian war,
he puts words into the mouth of the Corinthians which significantly
show what view Greece in after-times took of the Spartan action at this
period of the war:—
“The Mede, we ourselves know, had time to come from the ends of the
earth to Peloponnese, without any force of yours worthy of the name
advancing to meet him.”
The troops which were sent to the pass were:—
◆H. vii. 202.◆
Peloponnesians: 300 Spartans; 1000 Tegeans and Mantineans; 126
Orchomenians from Arcadia; 1000 from the rest of Arcadia; 400
Corinthians; 200 from Phlius; 30 Mykenæans.
Northern Greeks: 700 Thespians; 400 Thebans; 1000 Phocians; and the
whole force of the Opuntian Locrians.
Leaving out of the calculation the indeterminate number of the Opuntian
Locrians,—not a very serious deduction either as regards quantity
or quality, if the general military history of this people be any
criterion,—and adding the light-armed which would be present with
the Spartan force, a total of 7300 is arrived at as the sum of the
defenders of this all-important passage. Herodotus, whose narrative
of Thermopylæ is conspicuously drawn from Lacedæmonian sources,
is at considerable pains to emphasize the intention of the
Peloponnesians to send reinforcements. ◆H. vii. 203.◆ The Opuntian
Locrians are told that the force sent is merely an advance guard,
and that “the rest of the allies might be expected any day;” and are
further comforted, so Herodotus says, with a piece of philosophy after
the historian’s own heart: “The invader of Greece is not divine but
human; and there neither is nor will be the man who is not liable to
misfortune from the day of his birth; moreover, the greater the man,
the greater the misfortune.” This affords an unparalleled example of
the effectiveness of proverbial philosophy in war.
◆H. vii. 206.◆
“The men with Leonidas the Spartans despatched first, in order that
the other allies on seeing them might join in the expedition and not
medise, if they heard that they were delaying. They intended later,
the Carnean festival being the momentary obstacle, after celebrating
the feast and after leaving a garrison in Sparta, to come up _en
masse_ with all speed.”
The historian accounts for the delay of the other allies by saying that
they were celebrating the Olympian games; and, on the whole question,
further adds that the Peloponnesians generally never supposed that the
struggle at Thermopylæ would be so quickly brought to a decision. He
proceeds:—
“The Greeks at Thermopylæ, when the Persian arrived near the pass,
proceeded in their alarm to discuss the question of retreat. The other
Peloponnesians thought it best to go to Peloponnesus and guard the
Isthmus; but Leonidas, owing to the indignation of the Phocians and
Locrians at this proposed policy, decided to remain where he was and
to send off messages to the states, ordering them to come to their
aid, as the numbers at present with him were not large enough to keep
back the army of the Medes.”
#DOUBLE POLICY OF SPARTA.#
It can only be to these messengers, or to some despatched at a later
date, ◆H. vii. 230.◆ that Herodotus refers further on in his narrative,
where he gives an alternative version of the tale of Eurytos and
Aristodemos. With reference to Aristodemos he says:—
“Some say that, when sent as a messenger from the army, he refused to
return in time for the battle, though it was possible for him to
do so, but saved his life by loitering on the way, whereas his fellow
messenger came to the battle and met his death.”
It is possible to assume that the messengers which Leonidas is reported
to have sent were the first which he despatched for assistance; and,
if so, Aristodemos and Eurytos were either those messengers, or were
despatched at a later time. The noticeable point about the tale is
that they had time to return for the actual battle. If that be so,
reinforcements might have been despatched; and though _they_ might
not have found it possible to arrive in time, yet, had they been
despatched, that fact would hardly have been omitted from a tale of
Spartan origin.[117]
The general circumstances of the time and the details of the
Lacedæmonian story are such as to leave little doubt concerning the
real history of the Spartan policy at this particular stage of the war.
Sparta was acting under two impulses. She wished, on the one hand, to
concentrate the defence at the Isthmus. Her Peloponnesian allies wished
the same; and the difficulty of persuading them to any other design
must have been very great. On the other hand, there were most important
considerations which rendered the complete adoption of this design
impossible. The works for the defence of the Isthmus were certainly not
complete; and unless the Persian’s course was stayed, could hardly be
forward enough to resist his attack. Athens also would not hear of such
a policy; and Athens could not be ignored. The Northern States, too,
would medize.
And so, distracted by conflicting considerations, among which the
incompleteness of the works at the Isthmus cannot have been least,
Sparta played a double game. She sent a small contingent of her own
troops and of those of her allies to Thermopylæ, representing them
to be merely the advance guard of a larger force. She hoped, no
doubt, that the Phocians, Locrians, and Bœotians would accept this
instalment as surety for the discharge of the whole obligation, and
would contribute their share in full without delay. This hope
was destined to disappointment. The gangrene of Medism had no doubt
spread rapidly after the desertion of Thessaly; and it was not to be
checked by half remedies. Even the Opuntian Locrians suspected the
genuineness of the effort—a suspicion which, no doubt, the Bœotian
and Phocian shared to a still greater degree. The smallness of the
contingents which they despatched shows that they were distrustful of
the Peloponnesian good faith.
Except the small contingent with Leonidas, not a single member of the
Lacedæmonian land army seems to have set foot north of the Isthmus at
this time.
It cannot, however, be supposed that Leonidas was deliberately
sacrificed. There would be every reason to believe that if the worst
did come to the worst, he would be able to withdraw his small force
in safety. The Lacedæmonian authorities might reckon that even if the
Persian fleet forced the straits and landed men behind the pass, there
was a possibility of retreat by the mountain track which led by the
site of the modern Boudenitza to the ancient Elatæa. The path of the
Anopæa was a factor in the situation of whose existence they were quite
unaware when they sent Leonidas to the pass. But, even had it been
taken into the original calculation, Herodotus’ version of the events
at Thermopylæ subsequent to its capture by the Persians emphasizes the
fact that even then escape was possible; and this detail of that part
of his story is peculiarly supported by the geography of the region.
The Carnean and Olympian festivals served the Spartans and
Peloponnesians with an excuse for doing what they had all along
intended to do, viz.—to stay inside the Isthmus. This design accounts
for the ever restless desire of their Peloponnesian compatriots at
Artemisium to retreat from the Euripus. If they had regarded the effort
at Thermopylæ as serious, if they had supposed that their main army
might be expected there, would they have continually suggested the
desertion of a position whose retention was of vital importance to the
defence of Thermopylæ?
In all this drama Leonidas plays an unrehearsed part.
#TOPOGRAPHY OF THERMOPYLÆ.#
Note.—_Thermopylæ Past and Present._
Whatever view may be taken by any one who has visited Thermopylæ
regarding the details of the battle as described by Herodotus, there is
no reasonable doubt that the author’s exceedingly accurate description
of the topography of the district could only proceed from the pen of
one who had seen the place, and had examined it with some care. The
region which formed the scene of the events connected with the battle
is the ground at the foot of the northern slope of Mount Œta, extending
from the eastern end of the Trachinian cliffs, that is, from the mouth
of the Asopos ravine, for a distance of eight or nine miles, to a point
about half a mile beyond what was the east gate of Thermopylæ. There
were three “gates” or narrows in the pass, the West, the Middle, and
the East, all of which are mentioned by Herodotus. The middle one was
that to which the name Thermopylæ was especially applied, as the hot
springs are there situated.
If we may judge from the order of Herodotus’ description, it would
seen as if his examination of the district was made in the course
of a journey from North Greece southwards; for his enumeration of
the natural features takes them for the most part in order from west
to east. This hypothesis is supported, curiously enough, by the one
mistake which he makes as to the topography of the region. He wrote
evidently under the impression that the road through the pass ran
from north to south, for he describes various features on either side
as lying east or west of it (vii. 176). Coming from Lamia across the
plain, the road would be due north and south. In those days also it
is probable that the bend towards the west gate of the pass was more
gradual than at the present day; and the change of direction would not
be so noticeable.
Speaking of the region generally, he makes reference to (vii. 198)
the ebb and flow of the sea in the Malian gulf. This is connected
with the peculiar local tide-phenomenon in the Euripus. At Chalkis,
where the channel is contracted to a width that may be measured by
feet, the current induced by it is so strong that the Greek steamers
have at times to wait several hours before they can get through the
narrow passage. At the head of the Malian gulf, where the shore is
very low and flat, the phenomenon is peculiarly remarkable, and in
making the survey of Thermopylæ it was rather a puzzling feature
in the situation, rendering it difficult to fix the exact position of
prominent points along the coast.
Herodotus speaks of the Malian plain (vii. 198) as being divided
into two parts by the projection of the mountain at either side. The
greatest and highest mass of Œta, west of the Trachinian cliffs,
extends northwards towards Othrys, and marks off the upper plain of
Hypati, the ancient Hypata, from the lower plain of Lamia. The breadth
of the plain where it is broadest, [which he states to be at the city
of Trachis,] he gives at a figure which has been corrupted in the text.
The actual breadth from the exit of the Asopos defile to Lamia is about
eight miles, or about four hundred plethra.
His account of the natural features of the district begins outside the
limits of the region which formed the scene of operations. The rivers
Dyras and Melas may be identified with sufficient certainty under the
modern names of Gourgo-potamo and Mavra-neria.
Herodotus now enters upon the description of those features which did
have an influence upon the events of 480 B.C. “South of Trachis,” he
says (vii. 199), “there is a cleft in the mountain range which shuts
in the territory of Trachinia; and the river Asopos, issuing from the
cleft, flows for a while along the foot of the hills.”
The Asopos, at the present day, after issuing from the ravine, turns
eastwards through an angle of at least 45 degrees, and proceeds for a
distance of about two and a half miles in the direction of the north
foot of the hills which form the west gate of Thermopylæ. There is a
sort of bay in the range between the ravine and the west gate of the
pass. Herodotus’ description of it as flowing along the foot of the
hills would be applicable to its course at the present day. Its bed, a
broad stony channel, thickly sown with bushes of oleander and plane,
is one which is liable to alteration; but I could not find any trace
or evidence whatever of its having largely diverged from its present
course within recent times; and the modern maps of this district which
represent the river as running far out into the plain before turning
towards Thermopylæ are certainly wrong. No really reliable map of the
region as a whole at present exists. The best I have seen is one in
Hauvette’s Herodotus; and that contains several palpable errors.
#ROUTE OF HERODOTUS.#
Before reaching the hills at the west gate, the river takes a bend
slightly northwards of its former course, and passes the end of
this promontory of the range at a distance of about one-third of a
mile. After passing underneath the Lamia-Thermopylæ-Atalanta road, it
falls into the Spercheios a few hundred yards below the Alamana bridge.
Any consideration as to the exact position of its mouth in former times
is so much dependent on considerations connected with the Spercheios,
that they had better be left until the conjectural former course of
that river is described. This may, however, be said:—that the present
course of the Asopos seems to resemble to a great extent its course in
the time of Herodotus, though it must, in the interval, have passed
through many modifications.
Of the Spercheios Herodotus tells us, unfortunately, very little. I
venture, however, to think that it entered the gulf in those days at a
point farther west than is represented in the modern maps which have
conjecturally depicted the state of this region 500 years before Christ.
The description of Herodotus in Chapters 198 and 199 seems to be
almost certainly of the nature of a verbal map. He is describing what
he saw when travelling along a route from the north; and he begins
his description, as it is his intention to describe Thermopylæ, at
the Spercheios river. Whether the route he had traversed was that by
Thaumaki or that by Thebes in Phthiotis, he must have passed by way of
Lamia; for we know from Livy that that town blocked both those roads;
in fact, the physical characteristics of the region were such as to
render it practically certain that both must have passed that way. His
knowledge of Macedonian history and also of the Vale of Tempe and of
the sanctuary at Halos render it possible that he saw Thermopylæ in
the course of a journey from Macedonia to Greece; he expressly says in