traveller from Achaia.”
His route map of the region seems to have been somewhat as follows:—
Anticyra—Near mouth of Spercheios.
|
| 20 stades. Circ. 2. m. 3 fur.
|
R. Dyras.
|
| 20 stades. 2. m. 3 fur.
|
R. Melas.
|
| 5 stades. 4 1⁄2 fur.
|
Trachis (doubtful whether on, near, or not near road).
|
| Distance not given.
|
R. Asopos.
|
|
|
R. Phœnix.
|
| 15 stades. 1 m. 6 fur.
| → Anthele somewhere here.
|
Thermopylæ.
#RIVER SPERCHEIOS.#
The fifteen stades from Phœnix river to Thermopylæ is the only one of
these distances which we can test at the present day. The fact that it
is very fairly correct makes for the presumption that the others
are near the truth.
◆Anticyra.◆
Anticyra seems to have been on the road. Herodotus does not state that
it was actually at the mouth of the Spercheios. The muddy, marshy
shore of the gulf is not a place where a permanent dwelling would be
established.
◆Rivers Dyras and Melas.◆
The detail which shows how very far the ancient line of road was up
the present plain of the Spercheios is the statement of the distances
between that river and the Dyras, and between the latter and the Melas.
This last is identified, with all but complete certainty, with the
Mavra-neria, or Black-water river. If this be so, the Dyras can be
no other than the Gourgo-potamo, (Leake, “Northern Greece,” ii. 25).
The fact that these streams were nearly two miles and a half apart at
the points where the road crossed them, shows that it must have been
necessary to make a great circuit in order to get round the then shore
of the gulf and the marshes which no doubt bordered it. The mouth of
the Spercheios must in those days have been several miles above the
site of the modern bridge of Alamana, which is at the present day at
least four or five miles from the present mouth of the river.
Even two hundred years after this time, the mouth of the river must
have been at a considerable distance from the west gate of Thermopylæ.
Had it been anywhere near the promontory which projects into the plain
at that point, the Greek light cavalry force which was watching the
river bank must have been cut off from the main army by the body of
Gauls whom Brennus sent to cross the mouth of the Spercheios. Infantry
might easily make their way over the low hills above this west gate;
but I doubt whether cavalry would be able to do so (Paus. x. 20; 7, 8;
21; 1).
The rapidity with which the head of the Malian gulf has been filled up
is very striking. This is chiefly due to the main river Spercheios. The
amount of solid matter brought down by that stream when the water is
high must be very large. The extraordinary length of the promontories
formed by the deposit at its mouth shows it to be so. But as far as the
plain in the neighbourhood of Thermopylæ is concerned, it seems to me,
after examining the ground, quite certain that the little streams which
come down from Œta have contributed more than half of the material
which has accumulated in the neighbouring plain.
◆Site of Trachis.◆
Though not strictly bearing on the events at Thermopylæ, the
description of the site of the city of Trachis is of considerable
importance from the point of view of the general topography of this
region in after-times.
Herodotus tells us that it is five stades, _i.e._ somewhat more than
half a mile from the Melas river. He also says that the plain is
broadest at this point, and that the Asopos ravine lies south of the
city (H. vii. 199).
Does he mean that Trachis was actually on the road? His language is
doubtful; but I venture to think that he does. He is, as we have seen,
under the impression that in traversing not merely the plain, but
even the pass of Thermopylæ, he was travelling south, whereas, after
passing the Melas, he must have been going nearly due east Therefore,
when he speaks of the Asopos ravine as being south of Trachis, he
means probably that it was the next noticeable point on the journey to
Thermopylæ. It would therefore seem probable that the Melas, Trachis,
and the Asopos ravine are three points on his road. The road evidently
crossed the Melas high up the stream, and the natural way from it to
Thermopylæ would be along the firm ground at the foot of the Trachinian
cliffs proper. It would thus pass certainly within two hundred yards of
the mouth of the ravine. The determinants then in his description of
the position of Trachis are (1) the distance from the Melas; (2) the
position of the ravine with regard to it, for which we must read “east”
for “south.”
Leake’s view, which has largely (_e.g._ in Stein, Rawlinson, etc.),
though not universally prevailed, is that Trachis was identical with
the lower part of that Heraklea whose ruins are on the mountain at
Sideroporto. To one who has seen this region Leake’s description is
very difficult to understand; and in the diary of his journey the time
of arrival at various places which he sets down are in certain respects
so incomprehensible as to lead to the suspicion that there is something
wrong in his calculation.
The diary reads as follows:—
8.15. Coming from Franzi across Gourgo-potamo.
8.25. Alpospata a quarter of a mile on right.
8.32. Near round hill, which looks like site of ancient acropolis;
man told L. that it was not so.
8.41. Vardhates half a mile to right.
8.46. Branch of Mavra-neria.
8.52. Foot of Trachinian cliffs.
8.59. Sources of Mavra-neria.
9.03. Catacombs in rocks. (Delay five minutes).
#COLONEL LEAKE’S ROUTE.#
9.08. Start from catacombs.
9.22. Crossed Asopus, half mile below ravine.
9.48. Road to Dhamasta, half a mile to right. Delay three minutes
till:—
9.51.
10.04. Beginning of west pass of Thermopylæ.
10.08. Phœnix river.
10.11. Salt spring.
10.20. End of pass: salt spring (_i.e._ at Turkish barracks).
10.30. Cross torrent of Anthele (_sic_).
10.40. Beginning of sulphur deposit.
The total result is that Leake did about thirteen and a half miles
over a rough and confused track, with, presumably, baggage mules in
his train, in two and a quarter hours. I can only say this, that what
he took thirty-nine minutes to do (9.22 to 10.04, with three minutes’
delay) took me fifty-five minutes of fast walking on two occasions,
the distance being three and a half miles, and the track difficult,
for the most part on the stony bed of the Asopos. Nor can I understand
how Leake, or any one else, could, between 8.46, or 8.59 and 9.03, get
from the Mavra-neria to the place in his map where he indicates the
position of the tombs. The statement is quite incomprehensible. Leake’s
map is hopelessly incorrect; but that does not wholly explain the
difficulty. As to the argument from the tombs, I can only say that the
whole face, not merely of the Trachinian cliffs proper, but even of the
rocky hillside which lies east of the Asopos ravine, is honeycombed
with them. A large number were discovered in the making of the new
road. My very strong impression is that Leake has placed the Trachis
of Herodotus several miles east of its true site, and that, though it
is not far from the Heraklea at Sideroporto, which may or may not have
been the Heraklea of the Peloponnesian war, yet that it was not in
any sense a lower part of that town. I am disposed to think that the
identification of the site with the remains on the steep, flat-topped
hill three miles west of Sideroporto, near the hamlet of Konvelo, will,
whenever the ruins are excavated, prove to be correct.
Strabo (428) gives the distance between Heraklea and Trachis as six
stades. If any reliability be attached to the statement, it can only
proceed from the assumption that after the establishment of the hill
fortress by Sparta, the population of one of the towns which it was
founded to protect either removed itself or was removed to the
immediate neighbourhood of its protector.
◆River Asopos.◆
The junction of the Asopos with the Spercheios is at the present day,
as has been said, a few hundred yards east of the bridge of Alamana,
off the west end of the west gate. In Herodotus’ time it entered the
sea independently, and it seems from his description as if its mouth
must have been near the point where it now joins the main river. In the
first place he expressly tells us that the Phœnix river joins it. That
river, so called, is to be identified with a little stream which issues
from the rocks of the west gate, whose bed is of a ruddy brown colour,
owing, no doubt, to its being impregnate with oxide of iron. This fact
alone shows that the Asopos mouth must have been at some point off,
that is, north of the west gate.
◆The site of Anthele.◆
The historian also tells us that it entered the sea near village of
Anthele, which he describes as having been between the Phœnix and
Thermopylæ proper. Leake in his sketch map places Anthele on the
great accumulation of _débris_ which is brought down by the stream
which issues from the great ravine just about half a mile west of the
hot springs. The site is impossible. This heap is traversed in every
direction by ever-shifting branches of the torrent, and anything built
upon it would be soon carried away. Such a site, on what is practically
a huge stream-bed, would also be excessively malarious. Herodotus
describes the situation almost unmistakably when he says (vii 200),
“There is a broad piece of land about it in which are the temple of
Amphictyonid Demeter, and the seats of the Amphictyons, and a temple
of Amphictyon himself.” This must be the fairly level piece of land
just inside the west gate, under the old Turkish cavalry barracks. The
latter stand at the extremity of a steep-sided shelf which projects
from the hill which forms the west gate; and I am strongly inclined
to think that one or both of the temples, and the seats of the
Amphiktyons, were on this somewhat commanding site, looking down upon
Anthele.
◆The West Gate.◆
Coming to the actual pass itself, along the line which Herodotus
followed, we enter it by the west gate. Herodotus says (vii. 176) that
the pass is not narrowest at Thermopylæ itself, _i.e._ at the middle
gate, but _before_ Thermopylæ and behind it, meaning by the latter,
as his next words show, the east gate. It will be seen that by using
the words “before Thermopylæ,” of the west gate, he again indicates
the route by which he visited the pass. #THE WEST GATE.# “In front,”
he says, “by the Phœnix river, near the city of Anthele, is
another place where only one waggon at a time can pass.” The road at
the present day does not traverse the whole of the west gate. Crossing
the bridge of Alamana, it arrives at the actual foot of the cliff at a
point somewhat east of the stream which is identified with the Phœnix.
In former days, coming from the west it would pass along the whole of
the foot of the steep slope or cliff in which this low promontory of
Œta ends towards the plain.
The total length of the passage, from the west end to the site of
the Turkish barracks, which I am inclined to identify with that of
the Amphiktyonid temples, is just under one mile,—about 1670 yards.
To the right, or south of the line of road, the hill rises either
very steeply, or in the form of a cliff, to a height of between two
and three hundred feet; above which the slope is gentle. The total
height attained by the promontory is not great, only varying between
three and four hundred feet above the level of the plain. The road
was in 480 artificially constructed at this point, as is indicated by
Herodotus’ use of the word δέδμηται (H. vii. 200). It can only have
been a few feet wide. At the present time, the ground between the left
or north side of the road and the Spercheios is in winter time marshy
throughout; and even in the month of August, 1899, the eastern portion
of it, extending from the road to the river, was impassable, though
there had been a long drought. In Herodotus’ time it would seem to have
been for the most part a marsh between the cliffs and the Asopos river,
though it may well be that the sea actually came up to the road towards
the east end of the gate. No passage is possible between the road and
the modern river; much less can it have been so in B.C. 480.
Leake speaks of the pass as “the false Thermopylæ,” and seems never
to have dreamt of its being a possible site of the battle of 480. It
would be quite indefensible to any force which was not large enough to
occupy and defend the wide, and, to a light-armed man, easy passage of
the hills above it. In some of the best known guide books the battle
is described as having taken place in this gate. I do not know the
authority for this statement. Apart from its indefensibility against
superior numbers, Herodotus makes it quite clear that the battle took
place near the hot springs in the middle gate.
On issuing from the west gate underneath the old barracks, the land
on the right is fairly level, the hill-side retiring somewhat. This
is, as I have already said, almost certainly the site of Anthele.
On the left of the road the marshy land still continues for a space.
But within a few hundred yards the road ascends in the form of a long
gradual hill, to descend further in like manner to the great lime and
sulphur deposits of the hot springs. This rise in the road is caused
by the intervention of a mass of stream _débris_, which has poured
out of a great chasm to the west of the hot springs and has extended
far out into the plain. Its magnitude is enormous absolutely, and,
relative to the mean magnitude of that torrent which has produced it,
astounding. On issuing from the ravine it forms a fan-shaped mass, one
mile in length from the chasm to the plain, with an extreme breadth
of three quarters of a mile. Its apex is over three hundred feet in
perpendicular height above its base. It is formed for the most part of
large material, the finer stuff having gone down to form the new land
of the plain. This is what Leake calls the plain of Anthele. East of
this great chasm this mass of _débris_ is edged by the great face of
Kallidromos, which rises almost sheer to a height of three thousand
feet above it. ◆The hot springs.◆ The eastern part of this great cliff
overhangs the deposit at the hot springs, a white, glistening mass of
lime impregnated with sulphur, which covers an area of ground five and
a half furlongs in length from east to west, with an average breadth
of one furlong; that is to say, about fifty-five acres of land. The
hot springs rise in the side of Kallidromos on the edge of the great
mass of _débris_ which has been described; and the water from them
is carried along an artificial channel, immediately at the foot of
the steep side of the mountain, for more than half a mile. The stream
first enters the baths, and then turns a mill, which may be called
the upper mill; after this it crosses the road and is carried by a
solid stone aqueduct to turn a second mill in the plain. The springs
are very copious. In the artificial channel the water rushes along
rapidly in a stream three feet broad by about eighteen inches deep, and
is of that bright clear green which Pausanias describes. ◆The Middle
Gate.◆ The original middle gate of the pass was undoubtedly under the
steep hill-side between the baths and the upper mill. Herodotus makes
that quite clear. Of the mountain overhanging it, he says that it is
“untraversable and precipitous, lofty, extending to Œta” (vii. 176).
Of the middle gate he says, “Again the entrance to Greece, through
Trachis, is at its narrowest point half a plethron in width” (vii.
176). #THE MIDDLE GATE.# “To the east (really the north) of the
road the sea and the marshes begin.” “There are also in this entrance
warm baths, which the natives call the caldrons, and an altar of
Herakles is built above them. A wall had been built at this passage,
and in old days there were gates in it. The Phocians built the wall for
fear of the Thessalians when these came from Thesprotis to settle in
the Æolid territory which they now possess. In case of the Thessalians
attempting to subjugate them the Phocians took this precaution, and at
that time they turned the hot water on to the passage, so that deep
channels might be formed in the ground, using every device to prevent
the Thessalians invading the country. This old wall had been built a
long time before, and the greater part of it had fallen down with age”
(vii. 176). “This place is called by most of the Greeks Thermopylæ,
but by the natives, and by those who dwell in the neighbourhood, Pylæ”
(vii. 201). “The Greeks with Leonidas, as though going to meet their
fate, now advanced into the broader parts of the neck much more than
before. Hitherto they had held their station within the wall, and from
this had gone forth to fight where the path was narrowest” (vii. 223).
Herodotus says that the Spartans “retreated to the narrow part of the
way, and, crossing the wall, came and took up their positions on the
mound, all of them in a compact body, except the Thebans. The mound
is in the pass where stands the stone lion in honour of Leonidas.”
◆The Three Gates.◆ The fact that this was regarded as “the gates” _par
excellence_ is shown by the passage in vii 201. The contour lines of
the map of the pass as it is at the present day illustrate in a very
remarkable way the description of it given by the ancient historian.
The curves of the five-yard contour line are most noticeable. It is
at the three gates of the pass as described by Herodotus that it
approaches most closely to the hill slope. At the west and east gates
it reaches the actual base of the mountain. At the middle gate it all
but does so; but the accumulation of matter from the hot springs has
somewhat pushed it back.
◆The old coast-line.◆
It cannot amount, of course, to more than a rough calculation, but I am
disposed to believe that in the cases where stream _débris_ has been
pushed forward into the plain, the ten-yard contour, and elsewhere the
five-yard contour, represent pretty closely the coast line as it was in
the last few centuries before Christ.
In 480 there appears to have been deep water close to the road, for
Herodotus in his account of the final attack of the Persians on
the pass speaks of many of them falling into the sea and perishing
(vii. 223). The truth of this detail is strongly supported by
Pausanias’ description (x. 21, 4) of how the Athenian fleet two
centuries later attacked the flank of the Gauls when they were
assailing the middle gate. I am inclined to think that the deep water
must have been at the base of the two mounds which stand at the east
end of it. The marshes spoken of (vii. 176) would be those formed at
the point where the hot springs reached the shore, probably several
hundred yards west of where they now come down to the aqueduct.
The breadth of half a plethron, or fifty feet, is evidently to be
applied to that part of the pass which extended from the first mound
westward in the direction of the modern baths (_vide_ Plan). South of
this the mountain side rises at a very steep angle, and, apart from its
steepness, is practically untraversable, owing to the nature of the
rock-strewn slope, and the thick brushwood which covers it.
◆The Phocian Wall.◆
The question as to the exact position of the Phocian wall is a somewhat
difficult one to solve. At the same time, I see strong reason to think
that the existing remains of wall foundations on the neck by which
the first mound is attached to the mountain side are relics of a wall
which, if not identical with, is identical in site with the one which
the Phocians built.
Of this wall I noted the following details. The general line of it
is distinct. It can be traced seventy or eighty yards south from the
summit of the mound along the neck of the ridge, and it seems to have
been carried down the north slope of the mound towards what is now the
sulphur deposit but which was in former times the sea. The detail of
its plan is somewhat indistinct, largely owing to its having been very
much cut about in constructing rifle pits for the expected defence of
the pass in the recent war with Turkey. It seems to have been planned
as a series of angle bastions projecting westwards, connected by
curtains a few yards long.
It is from three to three feet six inches thick, and formed of stones,
some of which are roughly squared, and have an average dimension of
fifteen inches by ten.
The significance of its position will best be understood when the
course of the ancient road through this part of the pass is described.
There can be no question as to the line of it. Coming from the west
across the great mass of _débris_ formed by the stream from the great
ravine, it must have passed close to the site of the present baths.
#THE PHOCIAN WALL.# Thence it must have run along the foot of
the mountain slope until it reached the point where the first mound
projects into the plain. As the sea must at that time have washed the
north foot of this mound, the road must have climbed the west slope of
it, which is not peculiarly steep, and must have passed over the neck
which connects it with the mountain. Hence it would be blocked by this
wall, which runs along the neck, and which was probably carried higher
up the mountain slope to the south. I could not find any traces of its
south end; that is to say, it certainly went farther up the mountain
side than I could trace it. I have no reasonable doubt we have here
the line, if not the actual remnants, of the wall of 480. The position
is a very strong one, such as a small body of men could defend against
largely superior numbers.
It seems fairly clear that the Phocians used the water from the hot
springs to damage the road between this mound and the modern baths.
The stream itself is not, and I do not think can have ever been, of
sufficient magnitude to form a serious obstacle in itself. The defence
would simply consist in making the narrow passage awkward, if not
impossible for cavalry.
This suggested position of the wall accords with the details of the
last struggle given in vii. 225. The Greeks fall back from the broader
part of the pass (probably near the baths) to the narrow part (between
that and the mound). _Then_ they cross the wall and take their position
on the mound. Furthermore, the fact mentioned at the end of the
chapter, that in the assault on the mound the Persians pulled down the
wall, shows pretty clearly where the latter must have been, _i.e._ on
the mound itself.
On this mound certain stone graves have recently been found. I
am afraid the discovery was made when the rifle pits were being
constructed. I could only get a vague account of their position and
none of their contents, if any.
One word of warning. Viewed from the side of the road, the first mound
looks like an integral part of the mountain slope, and the existence
of the deep little valley which separates it almost completely from
Kallidromos can only be ascertained by ascending the mound itself, or
by going up the valley between the first and second mounds of which the
little valley is a branch.
The line of wall which lies to the north of the present road among the
bushes west of the aqueduct to the lower mill has been suggested as a
remnant of the Phocian wall. The lime and sulphur deposit upon it,
similar to that on the present aqueduct, shows that it carried at one
time the stream from the hot springs to a mill which must have existed
at its extremity.
◆The country between the Middle and East Gate.◆
The distance from the east end of the west gate to the middle gate at
the first mound is one mile five furlongs. From the middle gate to the
east gate is one mile three furlongs. Adding to this the length of the
long passage of the west gate, which is nearly one mile, we find that
the total length of the whole pass is four miles. Taking into account
the necessary windings of the ancient road, the length of the pass was
probably four and a half miles at least to one travelling through it.
After crossing the stream from the hot springs, the modern road is flat
for a few hundred yards. At this point it passes on the right a salt
spring, which forms a pond beneath the third mound.
After this the road begins a long ascent up the side of another
fan-shaped mass of stream _débris_ similar to that found west of the
hot springs. In this case, however, the mass is the combined work of a
number of small torrents which come down from the mountains and issue
on the plain at a short distance from one another. The great line of
cliff which overhangs the middle gate now recedes. It continues indeed,
but high up the mountain side, and from its base a series of bastions
and rounded ridges come down towards the plain, separated from one
another by the deep ravines which the streams have cut.
As you ascend the hill on the road you pass, on your immediate right,
four more mounds or hillocks. The last, or sixth mound, is at the
top of the hill, and is a prominent object when viewed from the hot
springs. Shortly after passing it the road begins to descend again;
and about half a mile farther on you arrive at what was the east gate
of the pass. Here the passage was narrow and short. It was formed by a
somewhat lofty projecting ridge of the mountain slope, round the end
of which the road passed. The five-yard contour makes a sudden bend
inwards at this point. Herodotus tells us that, like the western gate,
it afforded passage to but one waggon, and that it was near Alpenos
(vii. 176). At the end of the same chapter he speaks of Alpenos as
being “very near the road,” and as being the place from which the
Greeks reckoned to supply their commissariat. #THE EAST GATE AND WALL.#
◆Site of Alpenos.◆ I think that the site of Alpenos is to be identified
with the remains of a walled acropolis on a hill which stands out into
the plain from the ὑπωρέη or lower slope of the mountain, about
half a mile beyond the east gate. Between it and the east gate there
must have been a bay of the sea, or harbour, to which, no doubt, the
Greek provision ships went. Leake places Alpenos quite close to the
middle gate (_vide_ his map), but that is quite inconsistent with H.
vii. 176. The incomprehensibility of the eastern part of his map of
Thermopylæ makes one suspect that either he had never visited the east
end of the pass, or, if he had, had done so very hurriedly.
[Illustration: THERMOPYLÆ BETWEEN MIDDLE AND EAST GATE.
_From Sketch by E. Lear._]
1. Kallidromos (1 mile).
2. High Mass of Œta (about 14 miles).
3. West Gate (about 3 3⁄4 miles).
[_To face page_ 290.
[Illustration: THE EAST GATE OF THERMOPYLÆ.
1. Site of Alpenoi.
2. Hills of North-west Eubœa.
3. Foot of Wall at East Gate.
_To face page_ 291.
]
From the east gate there runs up the ridge towards the high mountain
the remains of a remarkable wall (_vide_ map). I cannot find in history
any trace or hint of its origin. It was evidently a defence against
an enemy advancing from the westward; for the whole way along its
west front there is a steep fall in the ground. It goes up the hill
for half a mile in a south-west direction, and then, in order to keep
along the ridge, it bends through an angle, and may be traced going
S.S.E. to a point near the foot of the line of cliffs near the summit
of the mountain. It would afford a very strong defensive position to a
large force. I am inclined to think that it cannot be a mediæval work,
because by mediæval times the sea must have retired from the east gate
at its foot. The stones of it are of medium size. I fancy the outside
courses were of squared material, while the interior was of unsquared
stones set in mortar. Its width seemed to vary from eight to ten feet.
The defence of the line of the wall would be a necessary adjunct to the
defence of the east gate. It will be seen, therefore, that the latter
did not afford a position where small numbers could have faced an enemy
in great numerical superiority.
* * * * *
In entering upon the details of Herodotus’ account of the battle of
Thermopylæ, it is necessary to bear in mind that it is a story written
by a man who was indeed excellent as a topographer, but who seems to
have absolutely lacked, in so far as can be seen, that practical or
theoretical knowledge of war which alone could have enabled him to
judge of the probable truth or falsehood of the various motives of
events given in the sources, whether verbal or written, from which he
drew his story. Special circumstances in connection with the battle
made it more than likely that the real history of it would be
officially concealed. The only people who knew the whole story of the
events leading up to the great catastrophe were the authorities at
Sparta. They can hardly have anticipated a disaster such as actually
happened; but, after it had taken place, they had every interest in
putting a complexion upon it such as would absolve them, in so far as
possible, from blame. The result in Herodotus’ narrative is similar
to what we find in other like passages in his history: on the pure
question of facts he is reliable; but when he attempts to give the
motives lying behind facts, he is only too apt to produce unreliable
statements from his sources of information. He must not be judged too
hardly in this matter. It is probable that neither he nor any other
historian writing after 450 could have arrived at the truth concerning
the motives underlying the events of 480. It is not merely a question
of the absence of reliable records. He must have been influenced by the
view of the past taken by the men of his own day; and there is only too
much evidence in history of the extent to which the Greek permitted his
imagination to take liberties with facts. The very caution, too, which
he displays as an historian is evidently a prominent characteristic
of the man,—a characteristic which would almost inevitably lead him
to shun a collision with the views of those of his fellow-men with
whom he was most intimately connected in life and sentiment. But his
silence is sometimes eloquent. In the Thermopylæ narrative he mentions
Leonidas’ demand for reinforcements: he states that the intention of
sending them existed; but he never hints that even a show of carrying
out the intention was ever made. The inadequacy of the reasons which
he gives for the omission to send help,—the occurrence of the Carnean
and Olympian festivals, and the alleged miscalculation made by the
Spartans as to the time at which the Persians would arrive before the
pass,—is patent on impartial examination. He himself clearly shows
that the Greeks had information as to the movements of the Persian
army; for he says that Leonidas was despatched to Thermopylæ “when
they heard the Persian was in Pieria.” #FACT AND MOTIVE.# Leonidas and
his band were then in good time. Nor was any such mistake made in
despatching the fleet to Artemisium.
And when it is all over, what is the alleged cause of Leonidas’ death?
It is represented as an act of self-sacrifice. An oracle had declared
that one king must die, that Spartan liberty perish not. And so
Leonidas immolated himself on the altar of Patriotism.
This is a motive which would directly appeal to the piety of the
historian. But some contemporary sceptic might well have asked
why, under the circumstances, the hero of a deed of such splendid
self-sacrifice should have thought it right to involve therein the
Thespian and Theban contingents. That Leonidas’ act was one of the most
glorious recorded in history there is no reason to doubt: the question
is as to the motive.
How can the motive be judged of at the present day? Herodotus himself
supplies the apparatus of criticism by his narrative of the incidents
which occurred at Thermopylæ, which, when statements of motive are
excluded, is in nearly every single detail capable of verification on
the spot at the present day. The modern world possesses in it a sound
basis for an induction of the causes which produced the events. The
motives alleged here and in other parts of his history of the Persian
War are little more than hypotheses for the verification or disproof of
which the genuine honesty of the historian often supplies the means.
◆H. vii. 201.◆
Xerxes, on arriving at the Malian plain, pitched his camp in Trachinia,
commanding the country as far as Trachis. The Persian encampment
would seem to have stretched from the river Melas, or thereabouts,
to the entrance of the west gate of the pass. The Greek encampment
was in the middle gate, probably behind the first mound, either on
the ridge beyond the valley, or on the stream _débris_ over which
the modern road passes. The numbers of the Greek army must have been
about eight thousand, including the unstated numbers of the Opuntian
Locrians. Of these, however, one thousand Phocians were set to guard
the path of the Anopæa, more than three thousand feet above the gate.
Leonidas was in command. ◆H. vii. 204.◆ Even before the battle
brought him undying fame he seems to have been a man whose character
excited great admiration. The three hundred men whom he took with him
from Sparta were the royal bodyguard, picked men all, and fathers of
families, so Herodotus says. The historian evidently implies that in
so desperate a venture Leonidas considered it unadvisable to take with
him men whose death would blot out their name from the land of the
living. Is this detail quite consistent with the presumed intention to
send reinforcements? It is possibly a graphic touch added by Spartan
tradition after the event.
The Theban contingent was four hundred in number. Herodotus’ account of
all relating to it is so full of disputable motives that it has been
suggested that he followed a tradition which developed either under the
influence of the bitterness of feeling called forth by the attitude of
Thebes later on in the war, or of the violent enmity which sprang up
between Athens and Thebes in after-time, and which was at its height
at the time when Herodotus wrote. He represents Leonidas as taking the
Thebans with him under a sort of compulsion, because he suspected them
of a tendency to medize. There are several reasons urged for doubting
this version of the story of the Theban participation in the campaign.
1. It is doubtful whether Leonidas with so small a force as he had
with him could have coerced so powerful a State as Thebes.
◆Diod. xi. 4.◆
2. Ephoros says these Thebans were of the party opposed to medism.
3. If they were not, Xerxes committed a gross error of policy in
branding their prisoners after Thermopylæ.
◆Plut. Herod. Mal. 31–33.◆
4. Plutarch, a Bœotian himself, emphatically denies the truth of
Herodotus’ story.
Plutarch’s statements, in brief, are as follows:—
(_a_.) The fact that Thebes sent five hundred men to Tempe is proof
that up to the time of Thermopylæ Thebes supported the Greek
cause.
(_b_.) Leonidas had no suspicions against Thebes. He was treated with
special honour there.
#THE THEBAN CONTINGENT.#
(_c_.) If these Thebans were traitors to the Greek cause, why did
Leonidas retain so dangerous an element with him in the last
fight at Thermopylæ?
(_d_.) The chief of the Theban contingent was not Leontiades, but
Anaxandros.
The objections to the Herodotean version are by no means decisive in
character.
1. As far as coercion is concerned, Thebes had to reckon not merely
on Leonidas and his band, but on the whole Greek force at the
Isthmus.
2. Ephoros’ story is of later date, but really contributes the
strongest piece of evidence adduced against Herodotus.
3. The Theban prisoners had just been fighting against Xerxes in the
pass. He was not likely under the circumstances to discriminate
them as friends among foes.
4. Plutarch’s evidence, being that of a Bœotian, is liable to
suspicion. His evidence, too, taken in detail, is open to
criticism.
(_a_.) Plutarch’s argument is weak, because, as has been seen, the
contagion of medism spread in the North for the most part
after Tempe, and probably in consequence of the fiasco there.
(_b_.) There exists no means of judging of the truth or falsehood of
his assertions with regard to Leonidas.
(_c_.) Leonidas’ action is comprehensible on the supposition that he
wished to definitely embroil Thebes in the defence against the
Persian.
(_d_.) It is quite possible that the Bœotian Plutarch has discovered
a genuine mistake of Herodotus with regard to the name of the
Theban commander.
Two theories are possible: either that these Thebans were taken as
hostages for their fellow-countrymen’s behaviour; or that they joined
the expedition with a patriotism which stood the test of the extremest
danger. Perhaps the most telling piece of evidence against them
may seem to be the smallness of their contingent when compared with
that of the minor town of Thespiæ. But here again the explanation may
be that they shared the evident distrust with which the Northern States
regarded the Peloponnesian effort at Thermopylæ, and were ready to
fulfil their share of the obligation whenever they saw Sparta willing
to undertake hers.
The evidence is not of a kind which renders it possible at the present
day to decide between the truth of the respective versions. The motives
which Herodotus attributes to Leonidas and to the Thebans at this time
may not bear the stamp of _conclusive_ truth; but they convey, when
examined by the side of the contrary evidence, a stronger impression of
truth than of falsehood.
Xerxes’ first measure on taking up his encampment was to send a scout
to examine the Greek position.[118] He could not see the whole Greek
force, because those within the wall were hidden by it.[119]
Part, however, of the Spartan force was outside the wall, the men being
engaged in exercise and in combing their hair. Having ascertained their
numbers, the scout returned to Xerxes with his report. His description
of what was going on surprised the king, who appealed to the Spartan
Demaratos for an explanation. The latter told him that it was the
national custom of the Spartans to adorn themselves before facing
the danger of death in battle, and warned him that he must expect a
stubborn resistance. ◆H. vii. 210.◆ The king, it is said, did not
credit this, and allowed four days to pass “expecting ever that they
would run away.” Xerxes’ motive for the delay was probably somewhat
different from that given by Herodotus. #THE FIRST ATTACK.# The king
thought, no doubt, that his fleet would within a few days force
the passage of the Euripus, and that, the position of the Greeks being
thus turned, they would have to retreat, and would thus save him the
inevitable losses which must result from an attempt to force a pass so
strong.
On the fifth day his impatience got the better of him, and he began a
fierce assault with his Median and Kissian troops. After the Persians,
the Medes enjoyed the greatest reputation in the army. In spite of the
disparity of numbers, it was an unequal contest. Numbers were indeed
of little avail, the passage being very narrow,—only fifty feet in
width—and the Greeks having either flank protected by the mountain and
the sea. But it was in respect to actual arms that the disparity was
greatest. The Greek hoplite, with his heavy defensive armour and longer
spear, was far more than a match for the Mede, who practically lacked
defensive armour, and whose weapons of offence were of an inferior
character.
The battle lasted all day; ◆H. vii. 211.◆ for when it became clear that
the Medes could effect nothing, Xerxes sent his picked Persian troops,
the Immortals, to the assault. Even these signally failed to make an
impression on the Greek defence.
The excellence of the Lacedæmonian drill and discipline seems to have
been remarkable. They employed tactics which very few troops in the
world could employ in a narrow space in face of immensely superior
numbers:—an advance; then a pretended retreat, to draw the enemy on;
and then once more a right-about-face to the attack. The object of
this was, no doubt, to keep the enemy at close quarters. ◆Xen. Anab.
iii. 3, 9.◆ The one thing they had to fear was that the lighter armed
foe should confine himself to an attack with missiles, in which form
of fighting they must have suffered severely, without being able to
retaliate in adequate fashion.
The attack was repeated next day. The Persians hoped to win the pass by
sheer weight of numbers, knowing that they could afford to lose ten men
for every one of the enemy whom they placed _hors de combat_. But again
the attack failed.
The king’s position at this time must have been very critical.
Neither army nor fleet had forced a passage, nor had they been able
to resume touch with one another. They maintained a communication,
no doubt, by the coast road running along the north shore of the
Malian gulf; but the transport of supplies to the army, whether by
that route from the fleet, or from the Thessalian plain by the way of
Thaumaki, must have been a work of such difficulty and magnitude that
it is hardly possible to believe that it could have been adequately
maintained.
The failure to reinforce the garrison at Thermopylæ was the most
disastrous mistake which the Greeks made in the course of the war. Even
with the ridiculously small force which was sent, the defence came very
near being a success. Had an army only half the size of that which
fought at Platæa been there, neither pass nor path could ever have been
forced, and the fleet at Artemisium, or at least the Peloponnesian
section of it, would have fought with a very different spirit to that
which it actually displayed. Their stake at Thermopylæ was too small,
and their stake at the Isthmus too great to render them aught but
vacillating defenders of the channel. Had the stakes been reversed, had
the safety of their compatriots at the pass been largely involved, the
fleet would have been inspired with unanimous courage. And had it been
so, the advance of the Persians, in spite of their superior numbers,
might have been definitely checked. It is not probable, judging from
the results of the fighting which did actually take place, that either
side could have gained a decisive advantage over the other. Though
the Greek fleet suffered severely in the final combat, the Persians
were not successful in forcing the strait; and to them failure in both
strait and pass would have meant failure of the expedition.
◆Thuc. i. 69.◆
Men said in Greece in after time that the Persian was the rock on which
he himself made shipwreck. That expressed but half the truth. It was
true in the sense that the success in the war was not owing to good
management on the part of the Greeks. #THE PATH OF THE ANOPÆA.# It
was not true in the sense that the Persian’s mistakes were the main
factor in his failure. The main factor was conspicuously the
superiority of the Greek weapons in close fighting, a form of combat
which the Persian as the assailant could not avoid. It was a lesson
which the European Greek took long in learning. Aristagoras the Ionian
had pointed it out to Kleomenes when he visited him at Sparta in the
first year of the fifth century. And yet it was not until the early
years of the next century that the Greeks of Europe came to appreciate
to the full the effectiveness of their national panoply as compared
with that of the Persian. The incidents of the strange adventure of
the 10,000 which Xenophon recorded at last convinced them of the real
nature and magnitude of their strength when matched with the great
Empire of the East.
By Malian treachery and Phocian cowardice Xerxes was saved from the
desperate position in which he found himself after the failure of the
two days’ assault on the pass.
The tale runs thus in Herodotus:—
◆H. vii. 213.◆
“When the king was now at a loss to know what to do in the
circumstances in which he found himself, Epialtes, a Malian, came
to speak with him, thinking he would get some great reward from
the king, and told him of the path leading through the mountain to
Thermopylæ.... ◆H. vii. 215.◆ Xerxes approved of Epialtes’ proposal,
and being much pleased thereat, immediately despatched Hydarnes and
those he commanded.”
◆H. vii. 211.◆
Herodotus says in an earlier chapter that these were the Immortals.
“He started from the camp about the time of the lighting of the
lamps. Native Malians discovered this path, and, after doing so, led
the Thessalians by it against the Phocians, at the time when the
latter, after blocking the pass with a wall, were under cover from
attack. Ever since that time the path has been put to an ill use by
the Malians. The path is as follows: it begins from that part of the
Asopos river which flows through the defile.”[120]
“The mountains here and the path are both called by the same name,
Anopæa. This Anopæa extends along the ridge of the mountain, and
debouches at the city of Alpenos, which is the first Locrian town as
you come from Malis, and by the stone called Melampygos, and at the
seats of the Kerkopes, where it is narrowest. Such is the nature of
the path along which the Persians, after crossing the Asopos, marched
the whole night long, having the mountains of Œta on their right, and
those of Trachis on their left. Day was dawning when they arrived at
the summit of the mountain. At this part of the mountain, as I have
already shown, a thousand Phocian hoplites were on guard, protecting
their own country, and watching the path. For the pass below was
guarded by the troops I have mentioned; but the path through the
mountains Phocian volunteers undertook to guard for Leonidas. ◆H.
vii. 218.◆ It was not until the Persians reached the summit that the
Phocians discovered their presence in the following way. Owing to the
mountain being covered with oak forest, the Persian ascent had been
unobserved. There was no wind, but inasmuch as considerable noise was
inevitably made by the trampling of the feet upon the leaves, the
Phocians proceeded to run up and put on their armour. The Persians
came up immediately. When they saw men putting on their armour they
were amazed, for, never expecting that any one would appear and oppose
them, they had come upon an army. Hydarnes, then, fearing that the
Phocians were Lacedæmonians, questioned Epialtes as to the nature
of the force; and on hearing the truth, he drew up the Persians in
fighting order. The Phocians, however, assailed by a thick shower
of arrows, betook themselves in flight to the peak of the mountain,
thinking at first that they were the main object of attack, and
prepared to defend themselves to the death. Such was their intention;
but the Persians with Epialtes and Hydarnes paid no regard to the
Phocians, but proceeded to descend the mountain with all speed.”
[Illustration: SUMMIT OF ANOPÆA, LOOKING EAST.
1. Mount Saromata.
[_To face page_ 301.
]
_The Path of the Anopæa._
Leake gives what is, in so far as it goes, a fairly accurate
description of this path (“Northern Greece,” vol. ii.); but he does
not say that he actually traversed it. I am inclined to think that his
information was derived from the natives of old Drakospilia, which
seems to have been in existence in his time. When at Thermopylæ in
July–August, 1899, I was able to traverse the path from beginning to
end. On the first day I had no difficulty in tracing that part of it
which lies above the actual pass of Thermopylæ. I intended to follow
it to its end that day; but, at a monastery on the hills above the
plain west of the pass, we got upon a wrong track, leading straight
down into the plain about two miles east of the Asopos ravine. On
the next day I went up that ravine to try and discover a path, if
any, leading eastwards from it. It took an hour and a quarter to pass
through the ravine at a fairly fast walk. It is, as I have already
mentioned, a magnificent chasm, with perpendicular sides ranging from
seven hundred to nine hundred feet in height. Its width, never great,
is in one place contracted to twelve feet. Just as we were about to
issue upon the great upland valley of which I have before spoken, a
small valley opened out on the left of the ravine, _i.e._ eastward,
and up this a path led. I went up the path, which was a rough one and
steep, for several miles, until I reached the new main road, high up
on the mountain. On the next day I traced the path from that point
to near the monastery of the Panagia, whence on the first day we had
inadvertently diverged from it. For nine-tenths of the whole distance
from the east end of Thermopylæ to the Asopos ravine, it is absolutely
certain that this is the original path of the Anopæa, for the very
good reason that it traverses the only line which _can_ be traversed
in that very difficult country. In the neighbourhood of the monastery
the monks have caused new paths to be constructed, and it is therefore
not possible to say with certainty which was the original line of the
track. In mentioning distances, I can only speak approximately for the
latter two-thirds of the road, as I could get but few compass bearings
to points in my map, and these were all in the eastern third of the
way. I do not think that I have exaggerated the distances given, as I
have made allowances for the fact that in traversing an extremely rough
track, a large part of which runs through thick forest, distances
seem greater than they really are. The scenery throughout is most
beautiful, finer, I think, than anything I have seen in Greece. As the
track leads through a country inhabited, in so far as it is inhabited
at all, by semi-civilized Vlach shepherds, it would be unadvisable to
attempt to traverse it, at present, at any rate, save with a fairly
large party.
I append a detailed description of the path.
Beginning at the mouth of the Asopos ravine, it goes through that chasm
almost to its far extremity, a distance, I should say, of two and
three-quarter or three miles. For a man or loaded mule the track is not
difficult, and is still greatly used in spite of the making of the new
road. The new road involves a terrific climb. The bottom of the ravine
ascends but slowly; and it is possible to reach the Dorian plain from
its southern extremity without attaining any high elevation.
After passing through this ravine, you begin to ascend a valley whose
sides are dotted, if I remember rightly, by a scanty covering of small
fir-trees. You ascend this valley in a general direction eastwards,
until you emerge, after going from two to two and a half miles, on the
new road, at a height of perhaps two thousand feet. Crossing that, you
proceed through a more or less wooded country for some two miles, to
the monastery of the Panagia, along a very rough track. The monastery
is about two thousand to two thousand five hundred feet above the
plain. From it a steep ascent begins through low, thick forest on the
north side of the ridge of Œta, which at this point rises about one
thousand feet above you on the right, _i.e._ on the south. The forest
is largely composed of oak, but there are many fir-trees and some
planes. The track is so narrow that you are obliged to walk in single
file. About three miles from the monastery, when the height attained
cannot be less than three thousand two hundred feet, the forest alters
in character, and large fir-trees now predominate, which appear to the
non-botanical eye to be what are called Scotch firs.
At one point at this part of the track you emerge on a rocky platform
at the top of the rocks marked in my map as the Great Gable. The
traveller through the pass can see them from the road, if he looks up
the great ravine. They rise a little to the right of the line of the
ravine, and are a prominent object against the sky horizon of the high
range. #THE STATION OF THE PHOCIANS.# From this point the track leads
southwards to turn the upper part of the chasm of the Great Ravine,
at a point several miles from its exit near the hot springs. The
view down that ravine, with a foreground of giant firs and plane-trees,
the great flat plain of Malis in the middle distance, and the range
of Othrys in the background, is of extraordinary magnificence. After
descending into the ravine and ascending the far side of it, you arrive
at the site of Palaia-Drakospilia, a deserted village. From here you
ascend for a short distance through a primæval fir forest, to arrive at
an open space on the ridge which runs back from the great hill above
the hot springs at Thermopylæ. Half a mile away to the north, _i.e._
towards the summit above the pass, is an old φρούριον, which evidently
guarded the path in former days. There can be little doubt that this
is where the Phocians were stationed. It is at the true summit of the
path, a height of certainly three thousand two hundred and probably
of three thousand five hundred feet. It accords with the little
Herodotus tells us of the scene of the surprise, save that the trees
hereabouts are not oak, but firs. His mention of the oak-trees may,
however, be taken to apply to the oak forest through which you pass
before arriving at the Great Gable. From this point the path begins
to descend. It is very narrow; often steep and rocky. It goes down an
upland valley filled with dense primæval fir forest, between the ridge
which rises above the pass, and the main ridge of Œta, which rises
to a considerable height on the south, and is known by the name of
Saromata. This continues for several miles,—I cannot say how many, but
I should think not less than five; probably more, as it took us several
hours to traverse the distance. This section of the track ends at
Upper Drakospilia, a village visible from the road at Thermopylæ, and
some one thousand five hundred feet above the plain. From this place
there is at the present day a choice of roads down to the plain. The
easier leads down to a point near the east gate of the pass, near the
site which I believe to be that of Alpenoi. The other is a steep path
descending to the plain at a point about half-way between the middle
and east gates.
I reckon that the total distance from the Asopos ravine to the little
town of Alpenoi cannot be much less than seventeen miles.
* * * * *
The account given of the seizure of the path is a perfectly
comprehensible one. There is no question that, had the Phocians not
been caught unprepared, the Persians could never have got through.
Numbers would have been of little avail on a track that for the most
part allows only the passage of one, or, at most, two men at a time.
The fact that the defenders were, from the indications given in
Herodotus’ account, caught on what is at the present day practically
the only open ground after the monastery of the Panagia is passed,
affords but little excuse for them. They had committed an enormous
blunder in being taken unprepared; and this blunder was probably made
greater by their having deposited their arms in the fort, which is not
on the road, but half a mile away from it. Had they had their weapons
at hand they could have fallen back on the thick forest to the east of
the open space; and, had they done so, it is difficult to conceive how
the Persians could possibly have forced a passage. The allegation in
Herodotus that they allowed the enemy to pass under the misapprehension
that they were themselves the object of attack is probably a mere cloke
to a mistake in which cowardice played no small part—an excuse invented
by their friends in after-time. ◆H. vii. 217.◆ The Persians seem to
have arrived at this point while it was still dark, or at any rate,
in the dimness of the dawn. They started about 7.30 in the evening,
and must have reached this point before 4.30 next morning. That would
give them nine hours in which to accomplish the twelve or thirteen
miles from the mouth of the Asopos ravine. This is about the time which
they might have been expected to take over a path of the character of
that which they had traversed. At this rate of progression they would
probably take three hours more at least to arrive at the point from
which they would for the first time overlook the pass, the site of what
is now Upper Drakospilia. But when they had arrived there, it would
take much time for the long straggling column to come up; and it may
well have been many hours before they were in a position to venture
down the hill into the pass itself. Of the two paths which at the
present day descend from Drakospilia to the road, it is most probable
that only the easier one, which would lead them down to a point just
outside the east gate, existed at that time. #A FORLORN HOPE.# The
other seems to have been created by the needs of the modern
Drakospilia for direct communication with Lamia and its district. It is
very precipitous, very narrow, and easily capable of defence, whereas
the other is not.
So far the tale of Thermopylæ is borne out in the most conspicuous way
by the evidence. The remainder of the story, however, presents features
which, though in accord with the purely topographical circumstances of
the present day, raise problems of peculiar difficulty.
◆H. vii. 219.◆
The news that the Persians had discovered the existence of the path,
and had despatched a body of men to seize it, was brought to the Greek
camp by deserters during the night; its actual seizure seems to have
been reported after dawn by scouts, who probably made their way down
from the Phocian position by the precipitous mountain slopes east of
the middle gate. The tale of what ensued is thus told by Herodotus:—
“On hearing this news, the Greeks consulted together; and their
opinions were divided. Some were against deserting the position,
others of the opposite view. After this they separated, and some went
off, and, dispersing, went each to their several cities, while others
prepared to remain where they were with Leonidas. There is another
tale to the effect that Leonidas sent them away, in his anxiety to
save their lives, telling them, however, that it did not stand with
his honour and that of the Spartans present to leave the post they
had originally come to guard. I myself am most inclined to think that
Leonidas, when he saw that the allies were dispirited and unwilling to
share the danger, ordered them to depart, but thought it ignoble to do
so himself. For if he remained at his post, a great and glorious name
awaited him, and the prosperity of Sparta would not be blotted out.”
◆H. vii. 220.◆
The explanation of the last words is given in the tale which Herodotus
then proceeds to tell, to the effect that the Pythian oracle had
announced to Sparta, quite at the beginning of the war, that either
Sparta would be destroyed by the barbarians, or that its king would
perish. Herodotus thinks that it was because Leonidas remembered this
oracle, and wished to gain glory for the Spartans alone, that he sent
the allies away. He is more inclined to believe this than that
the allies, owing to a quarrel with him, went after so undisciplined a
fashion.
He regards as evidence in favour of this view the fact that Leonidas
ordered the seer Megistios, an Acarnanian, who had the previous night
warned them of the coming disaster, to depart; which he refused to do.
◆H. vii. 222.◆
“The allies, then, who were dismissed, went away and obeyed Leonidas,
save the Thespians and Thebans, who alone remained with the
Lacedæmonians. Of these the Thebans stayed against their will, and not
wishing to do so, for Leonidas kept them in the guise of hostages. The
Thespians showed every will to remain, refusing to leave Leonidas and
those with him and depart. So they stayed with them and shared their
death. Their leader was Demophilos, the son of Diadromos.”
This is a very remarkable incident in the narrative of an episode
which is itself undeniably one of the most remarkable in history.
It contains but little of that reliable element in Herodotus,—fact;
it contains much of the unreliable element,—motive. The facts are
plain, and there is no reason to doubt them. The Spartans, Thebans,
and Thespians remained and took part in the final struggle; the rest
of the allies departed. Who were the latter? By reference to the list
of those present in the pass it will be found that they were Tegeans,
Mantineans, other Arcadians, Corinthians, Phliasians, Mykenæans ◆Paus.
ii. 16, 5; x. 20, 2.◆ (though Pausanias mentions a tradition to the
effect that they remained), and the Opuntian Locrians. The calculation
can only be an approximate one, but, excluding the Phocians, who were
up on the path, and the Opuntian Locrians, whose number we do not know,
3500 remained, and 2800 departed.[121] This division is a somewhat
significant one.
The central motive in Herodotus’ story is undoubtedly the reported
oracle delivered to Sparta “quite early in the war.” It is unfortunate,
from the historical point of view, that the tradition assailed the
historian on his weakest side. He was incurable in this respect.
#DIFFICULTIES IN THE NARRATIVE.# Even the most glaring cases of
oracular dishonesty, to which he could not shut his eyes, such as
the tampering of the Alkmæonidæ with the oracle at Delphi in order
to bring about the expulsion of the Peisistratidæ, never killed his
faith in oracular responses in general. But in cases where, as in the
present instance, an oracle came to point a moral and adorn a tale, he
completely surrendered his critical faculty. The whole of Herodotus’
narrative hangs by this oracle. He rejects the story that half the army
deserted the defence of its own free will, in order, in accordance
with his prime motive, to produce a story to the effect that Leonidas
dismissed them, knowing that he himself had to make the great act of
self-abnegation, and not wishing to involve them therein. And yet
Leonidas keeps the Thebans with him, and the Thespians remain of their
own free will; and, apparently, he allows them to do so.
If this account be true, what was the position of those three thousand
five hundred Greeks who remained to face the Persian attack on front
and rear? It is not said that they sacrificed themselves to give
their friends time to escape, nor is there the slightest cause to
suppose that there was any reason whatever for their doing so. The
scouts from the top of the mountain must have been down in the camp at
least two hours before the Persians could arrive at the site of Upper
Drakospilia; and, even arrived there, the latter could not possibly
have descended into the pass before their numbers had gathered. It must
have been late in the morning before they came down, and probably past
midday before they began to assail the rear of the Greek position.
Those who escaped had only a mile and a half to go before they were out
of the pass at the east gate; and, once outside, they were in an easy
country, over which they could travel rapidly.
Taking the story as it stands, there is no possible strategic motive
for remaining to defend the middle gate; there is rather every reason
for not doing so. And the men who remained there must have been
perfectly aware that by remaining they merely sacrificed their own
lives without really contributing anything to the defence of their
fatherland. The intense sense of discipline among the Spartans
may, in so far as they are concerned, of itself account for an act
otherwise inexplicable. But what of the Thebans? Were they likely to
allow themselves to be forced to face certain death in a case where
none save a sentimental result could be attained, without displaying a
feeling such as would make them most undesirable participants in the
defence? And the Thespians? They must have amounted to a very large
proportion of the total available fighting force of their little town.
Were they likely to sacrifice themselves, as has been suggested, in the
hope that if the Greek cause prospered, they might become the head of
the Bœotian confederacy? How could they hope to attain such a result
by deliberately placing seven hundred of their citizens in a position
whose only issue was the gate of death? What measure of gratitude could
they expect from a people who were responsible for their great betrayal
at Thermopylæ?
It is plain that there must have been some reasonable and strong motive
which induced the Thespians to remain, and made it possible for the
Thebans to be retained with Leonidas. The reason given by Herodotus
is inadequate to the last degree. Some other must have existed. It is
probable that, as is often the case under such circumstances, part
of the true reason is present in some form in the statement of the
imagined motives. Two tales existed, so Herodotus says: one that the
allies went away; the other that they were sent away. Possibly each of
them contained a fraction of the truth. What was the situation on that
eventful morning? The news of the Persians having passed the summit
came not long after dawn. Leonidas must have known, if he had, as must
be supposed, taken any measures to get knowledge of the path, that the
Persians could not be in force at Upper Drakospilia, to use the modern
name, for some hours after the news reached him; and three thousand men
in the tangled forest which begins just outside the village might stop
the whole Persian army. He would thus be able to maintain the pass, if
he could hold his end of it. #DEPARTURE OF HALF THE GREEK ARMY.# Is it
not possible, then, that he divided his force into what, as has been
seen, was, roughly speaking, two halves, and “sent away” the one
half to seize the forest path before the Persians had time to debouch
from it in any strength? On the question of time it may be said that
from the middle gate to Upper Drakospilia is an hour and twenty minutes
by the direct but more difficult path, and about twenty minutes longer
by the easier path which comes down near the east gate.
It seems an essential factor in the situation that Leonidas believed
in and was able to persuade the Thespians and, it may be, the Thebans
too, of the possibility of still maintaining the pass. Had the division
sent to meet Hydarnes done its duty with energy, it is highly probable,
judging from the history of the previous fighting, that the event would
have justified his confidence. What happened to that division of two
thousand eight hundred men will never be known. It may be that for
some reason it arrived too late, and found the Persians in too strong
a force at Drakospilia. It may be that it never attempted to carry out
the orders, and retreated straightway through the east gate, and so to
Elatæa. Probably the latter was the case. Had there been a reasonable
excuse for their conduct it would have survived in history. But was
there _no_ excuse for their vanishing from the scene? They were face
to face with a fearful danger, greater even than the danger which had
faced them for a week past, great though that had been. They must
have been suffering under a bitter sense of desertion, left to their
fate, as it were, by those who sent them from the Isthmus. And who but
Sparta was responsible for this? “Had they not done enough?” they may
have argued. Were they to blame if, deserted themselves, they deserted
others? And who were those “others?” Spartans, men of the race which
had wished to sacrifice them; Thebans of suspicious loyalty; Thespians,
who were—well, not Peloponnesians. And so they could go off with half
a conscience, if not a whole one. Such reasoning would not do them
honour; but men, if dishonourably treated themselves, are but too apt,
in their bitter resentment, to lose the finer sense of honour.
The story of their shame but half-survived; Herodotus caught some echo
of it. Those who lived to tell it had most interest in concealing
it. The dead men at Thermopylæ could tell no tales; and the Thebans
were too much discredited to obtain credit. There was a conspiracy of
silence. The inaction of the Spartan authorities had borne terrible
fruit,—far more terrible, it may be believed, than the authorities ever
expected it would bear. Leonidas had been deserted and had died with
his brave band. It was no good blaming the allies who deserted him,
even had it been possible under the circumstances to establish the fact
of their desertion. These, too, could have retaliated with a tale which
would have brought discredit, or even infamy, on those who were really
responsible for the disaster.
Thus it was possible to conceal the truth, and the field was open
for invention. It was not difficult to supply a motive for a courage
so grand as that which Leonidas had displayed,—the motive of
self-sacrifice. That was absolutely the only motive which could account
to the world for the extraordinary circumstances of his death; and it
had the merit of being true.
He was represented as a victim self-immolated on the altar of his
country’s weal. The oracle had said that the king must die for his
people. And he did die, but a victim to the dishonour of a country
which left him and the brave men with him to their fate.
After the departure of the Peloponnesian allies, the last scene in the
tragedy began. ◆H. vii. 223.◆ Herodotus describes it in the simple but
beautiful language of a master-artist who seeks to do justice to the
grandest story of his time. Xerxes after making libation at sunrise,
waited until the time when the Agora is wont to fill, and then began
the attack; such being the instructions of Epialtes.[122]
“For the descent from the mountain is quicker and the distance much
shorter, than the way round the hills.”[123]
[Illustration: COAST AT MIDDLE GATE OF THERMOPYLÆ IN 480.
Scale 8″ to 1 mile.
1, 2, 3, mark the three positions of the defenders of the Pass.
[_To face page_ 310.
]
[Illustration: THERMOPYLÆ.]
[Illustration: THERMOPYLÆ: THE MIDDLE GATE.
1. The 1st Mound.
2. Upper Mill.
3. Modern Baths.
4. Great Ravine.
[_To face page_ 311.
]
#THE LAST FIGHT.#
“So the barbarians under Xerxes advanced; and the Greeks with
Leonidas, as though going to meet their death, came out much more into
the wider part of the pass than they had done hitherto”[124]
“Up to this time they had held their station within the wall, and from
this had gone out to fight where the path was narrowest.”[125]
“On this occasion, however, the battle took place outside the narrows,
and numbers of the Persians fell. For the commanders standing
behind the companies with whips in their hands lashed on every man,
continually urging them forward. Many of them fell into the sea and
were drowned, and a still larger number were trampled to death;
but no one heeded the dying. For as the Greeks knew the fate which
awaited them at the hands of those who were making the circuit of the
mountain, they displayed with recklessness and fury the most desperate
valour against the barbarians.”[126]
“By that time the spears of most of them were broken, but they
slaughtered the Persians with their swords. In this _melée_ fell
Leonidas, the bravest of men, and other famous Spartans with him,
whose names I found out, for they deserved record; in fact, I
discovered the names of all the three hundred.”[127]
The losses of the Persians were not confined to the rank and file of
the army. Many of their prominent men fell, among others two sons of
Darius.
“Over the body of Leonidas there was a fierce struggle between the
Lacedæmonians and Persians, until the Greeks by their valour rescued
it, and drove back the enemy four times. This battle lasted until
those with Epialtes came up. When the Greeks heard of their arrival,
they changed their plan of defence. For they retreated to the narrow
part of the pass-way, and, retiring even behind the cross wall, came
and took up their position all in a body, save the Thebans, on the
hillock. This hillock is in the pass where now stands the stone lion
set up in honour of Leonidas.”[128]
“In this position, while such as had swords, still defended themselves
with them, and even with their hands and teeth, they were buried by
the barbarians beneath showers of missiles; some assailed them in
front and pulled down the wall; some went round and attacked them on
all sides.”
From the tales which Herodotus tells of the personal incidents in
connection with the battle, there is but little to be gathered which
can be said to contribute to the history of the time.
◆H. vii. 229.◆
In the tale of the two men Eurytos and Aristodemos there is a purely
incidental detail which is, in its way, of significance. They had been
sent away from the camp by Leonidas, and lay at Alpenoi, “in the last
stage of ophthalmia.”
[Illustration: FIRST AND SECOND MOUNDS, MIDDLE GATE, THERMOPYLÆ.
1. Second Mound.
2. Little Valley.
3. First Mound.
Sulphur Deposit in foreground.
[_To face page_ 312.
]
#THE TOMB OF THE FALLEN.#
At the present day the reed-cutters in the marsh at the west gate
suffer from this disease.
◆H. vii. 233.◆
The Theban contingent did not take any part in the last battle on the
mound. When the Greeks retreated from the broader part of the pass, the
Thebans remained behind and surrendered. It is significant to note that
this surrender was made at the time when the Greeks were made aware
that the division of Hydarnes was going to attack them in the rear.
It was probably years afterwards, when Herodotus visited the scene of
the battle, that he made a copy of the inscription which was engraved
on the monument raised on the mound to the memory of the Peloponnesian
Greeks who had fallen. Its words summarized, no doubt, the impression
which the battle had made on the Greek world as a whole.
Their memory is recorded in the lines:—
“Here, with three hundred myriads, once fought
Four thousand men of Peloponnese.”
The next lines quoted by Herodotus refer to the Lacedæmonians alone:—
“Stranger, unto the Lacedæmonians tell
That here we lie obedient to their laws.”
The epitaph of the seer Megistios followed, written by his friend the
poet Simonides.
It is remarkable that in the lines recorded by Herodotus there is no
mention of the Thespians or other allies who came not from Peloponnese.
It seems, however, from what Strabo says, ◆Strabo, 425.◆ that five
memorial pillars were erected on the spot, one of which recorded the
memory of the Locrians who perished; ◆Anthol. Pal. Append. 94.◆ and
an epigram of the Megarian Philiades on the fallen Thespians is also
extant, which was very possibly that engraved on one of the stelæ on
the mound.
To contemporary Greeks, and to Greeks of after time, Thermopylæ seemed,
if not the most important, the most impressive page in the history
of the race. It was regarded as an act of pure self-sacrifice, whose
splendour was such as to place it outside the range of any logical
discussion as to its practical strategic value. The sole motive
which was attributed to the gallant band who fought the last fight was
a stern, unyielding sense of duty, such as might serve as a pattern to
all after-time. There can be no doubt that this popular view had an
enormous moral effect. It gave the Greek a higher ideal of his national
character at his best; and in the history of any nation any sacrifice
which can have that effect is but a small price to pay, even if the
purely practical result of the sacrifice be small.
Before attempting any estimate of the real nature of the sacrifice, it
will be well to realize how it happened that the Greek world generally
came to adopt what was, in certain important respects, a mistaken view
of it. Herodotus’ narrative shows clearly the cause of this phenomenon.
The circumstances of the disaster were such that the Spartan
authorities were left in a position to impress their own explanation
on the facts that came to light. Herodotus gives what was, no doubt,
the authorized version. Its origin is plain. It is from beginning
to end drawn from Lacedæmonian sources. The Spartan is not merely
the protagonist in the tragedy; he is practically the only actor who
appears on the stage in the final act, except the unfortunate Theban,
the villain of the piece. The whole story was calculated to elevate
the idea which the Greek world held of the Spartan character. In one
sense it had its effect. It is impossible to doubt that from that day
forward the Spartans were credited with an heroic courage which knew no
yielding. How strong, how thorough, how lasting was this conviction in
the Greek mind is shown by the tremendous impression produced more than
fifty years later by the surrender of the Spartans on Sphakteria, the
desperate nature of the position in which they found themselves failing
to save the shock to their national reputation. But is it not strange
that the Thespians did not share the reputation? In certain respects
the part which they played at Thermopylæ had been even more glorious
than that of Leonidas and his men. #THE LAST HOURS AT THERMOPYLÆ.# The
seven hundred citizens by whom they were represented constituted to
them an infinitely greater stake in the perilous game than the three
hundred Spartans and their attendant Helots did to Sparta.
But in one important respect the official Spartan version failed
conspicuously to have the effect which it was doubtless intended
to convey. The Greek did not at this or any other time allow his
admiration of the national character of the Spartan to warp his
judgment with regard to the Spartan government. He was perfectly well
aware that the personal bravery of the Spartans in the field stood in
strong contrast to the pusillanimity of the policy of their rulers. If
he had any illusions on the subject at the beginning of the war, the
events of the war itself were strikingly calculated to disillusion him.
There can be no possible question as to the personal bravery of the
Spartans in every action, whether on land or sea, in so far as pure
fighting qualities are concerned; there can be no question as to the
greatness of the Spartan contribution to the final result; but Sparta
got little credit for the result in after-time.
It is impossible to close this chapter without making some attempt
to form an estimate of the mental attitude with which Leonidas faced
the situation in which he found himself involved on the morning of
the final struggle in the pass. It is necessary, in examining the
popular story, to remember that Leonidas’ conduct is not represented
as a sacrifice to the stern duty imposed by Spartan discipline, but to
one of the alternatives put forward on the authority of an oracular
response. There was possibly a tinge of fatalism about the character
of the man which lent a colouring to the tale of his death current
at the time. He died, so it was said, to save his country, not from
actual, but from predicted disaster. If this was the case, it is
quite comprehensible that his Spartan bodyguard should be involved
in the fate of their master. To them Spartan law and custom made the
consequences of desertion worse than death. But, leaving the Theban
contingent out of the question, what, under the circumstances, could
possibly have induced the Thespians to involve themselves in the fate
of one who was sacrificing himself to a prediction which did not
concern them? What possible feeling, sentimental or practical,
could have prompted them to share the fate of a self-doomed man? That
was the weak spot in the Spartan version of Thermopylæ. No attempt
was made to explain it. The hypothesis which lay at the root of the
story made it inexplicable. Nor does it seem to have struck those
who invented this story, that under the theory put forward by them,
Leonidas, without any motive whatsoever, deliberately allowed 700
devoted men of a little Bœotian city to share a doom which was his and
his alone.
Leonidas died a nobler death than that. It was with the grander courage
of reason that he faced the terrible odds against him on that last day
of his life.
The fighting of the previous days had shown him the strength of the
position which he held at the middle gate. It was a desperate risk; but
there was just the possibility that by detaching half his force to stop
the encircling body of the foe in the difficult path which they were
travelling, he might still be able to maintain the pass, and if he did
maintain it he would do his country an inestimable service. It was thus
with half his little army that he deliberately chose to face an enemy
one hundred times his own numerical strength. He took a risk of whose
magnitude he must have been well aware, to win, in case of success,
a prize of incalculable greatness. He cannot have deluded himself,
he may be pardoned if he deluded his allies—as to the overwhelming
nature of the chances against them. He might have retreated. There
is an exaggerated tendency to assume that Spartan discipline at this
time forbade a commander, under any circumstances, to withdraw from a
position once taken up. Artemisium and, above all, Platæa, prove this
not to have been the case. He was under no such compulsion. What he
did dare to do was to face odds such as men had never faced before and
never have faced since, because by so doing he had a possible prospect
of conferring a service of enormous value on his country. He did this,
too, in spite of that bitter feeling of his countrymen’s desertion
which must have been present in his mind. Nor was the nobility of
his death marred by a useless sacrifice of the lives of devoted men.
#ORIGIN OF HERODOTUS’ VERSION.# Great as was the risk, the greatness
of the end to be attained in case of success justified his
associating others with himself in the desperate venture.
I have laid aside this account of Thermopylæ for some months, in order
to consider whether any other more reasonable explanation of the
circumstances might be drawn from Herodotus’ narrative of _facts_.
I do not, however, see any possibility of arriving at any other
conclusion from them, when taken in combination with the topographical
evidence, which happens in this case to be very clear. There was
certainly a possibility of defending the pass, even after Hydarnes had
forced the path. It may have been remote; but it existed all the same.
There were, however, too many people interested in concealing the
truth of what happened. The Spartan authorities had good reason for
so doing, and the very fact of two wholly different traditions being
in existence in Herodotus’ day with regard to the conduct of those
who did not remain with Leonidas until the end, shows that the latter
were able to exercise a concealment which was in all probability
much to their interest to exercise. A not very unreasonable excuse
for their conduct might well be that the circumstances on that last
day were absolutely desperate, owing to the omission of Sparta to
send reinforcements. It would be an ugly tale for the Lacedæmonian
Government, and all the more so as the only person who might have
denied it with authority had died in the battle.
CHAPTER VIII.
ARTEMISIUM.
While the events just described were taking place on land, a somewhat
desultory naval warfare was being waged in the channel north of Eubœa,
which, though in itself indecisive, was not without influence on the
ultimate issue of the war. The defence of the channel had been rightly
regarded as an absolutely necessary adjunct to that of the pass; and
the resolution to send troops to Thermopylæ had been accompanied by the
resolution to send to the North Euripus all the ships available. Even
Herodotus recognizes the intimacy of the connection between the two
positions. When visiting Thermopylæ he can hardly have failed to notice
the relation between them.
◆Cf. also H. viii. 21.◆
Speaking of it he says: “These places are near one another, so that the
forces stationed at them could communicate with one another.”
◆H. vii. 175.◆
Even from a point at Thermopylæ only a hundred and fifty feet above the
Malian plain it is possible to see right down this northern channel,
and to distinguish in the distance part of the outline of the island of
Skiathos.
The historian treats the Artemisium story as an episode in itself,
though he supplies means by which it may be chronologically connected
with the Thermopylæ narrative. This treatment is justified by the
fact that, though there was so intimate a connection between the two
positions from a strategical point of view, the actual fighting which
occurred at them was of a quite independent character in so far as he
could judge of it. But there is also another reason which probably
had still greater weight in determining the method which he employed.
#SPARTAN AND ATHENIAN SOURCES.# The story of Thermopylæ is plainly
of Spartan origin from beginning to end; that of Artemisium is drawn
from Athenian sources. There is a further difference between them. The
story of Thermopylæ is, in respect to motive, a popularized tale of
official origin, for which the authorities at Sparta were responsible.
That of Artemisium is derived mainly, like some other parts of
Herodotus’ military history, from some one who was present at the
engagements, but was not in a position to know the designs of those in
command. The tale is too confused for it to be possible to suppose that
it is founded largely on official documents or on official information
of any kind. The reasons given for important movements are such as
would be current in the gossip of the fleet, coloured by the evident
intention to bring into high relief the greatness of the service which
Athens did to the Greek cause at this time by saving the situation on
the Euripus. The impression which is so intentionally given was not
indeed a false one. The Athenians did save the situation at Artemisium
in so far as it could be saved. By so doing they contributed not a
little to the solidarity of the Greek resistance.
The method which Herodotus employed to bring the two series of events
into connection with one another is natural; but the result is curious.
His narrative of this part of the war is in the form of a twofold
diary of the incidents at Thermopylæ and at Artemisium respectively.
There are two points of contact between the two diaries—at their
beginning, the departure from Therma, and at their end, the disaster
at Thermopylæ. It is notable, however, that there is a discrepancy
of two days between them. It is probable that two days have somehow
been omitted from the Artemisium diary. A close examination of its
narrative makes it evident that the historian, either owing to his
own miscalculation, or to some error in his source of information,
has attributed to one period of twenty-four hours events which could
not conceivably have happened within so brief a space of time. That
it is a case of pure miscalculation, either on his own part or on
that of his authority, ◆H. viii. 15.◆ is further evident from his own
statement that the naval battles at Artemisium took place on the
same days as the battles in the pass at Thermopylæ; in other words,
that the events of the eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth days of
the Thermopylæ narrative were synchronous with those of the sixteenth,
seventeenth, and eighteenth days in the record of the Artemisium
journal as it stands in his work.[129]
◆H. viii. 1.◆
The fleet which the Greeks despatched to Artemisium was a large one,
composed of the following contingents:—
Athenians, 127 triremes, part of the crews of which were Platæans;
Corinthians, 40 triremes; Megareans, 20 triremes; Chalkidians,
(probably Athenian kleruchs from Chalkis,) manned 20 triremes
provided by Athens; Æginetans, 18 triremes; Sikyonians, 12 triremes;
Lacedæmonians, 10 triremes; Epidaurians, 8 triremes; Eretrians, 7
triremes; Trœzenians, 5 triremes; Styreans, 2 triremes; Keians, 2
triremes and 2 pentekonters: Opuntian Locrians, 7 pentekonters.
The total number Herodotus gives correctly as 271. The commander of
the fleet was the Spartan Eurybiades. #ATHENS AND ATHENIAN SOURCES.#
The story goes that, before the embassy was sent to Sicily, it had
been arranged that Athens should have the supreme command at sea,
but that the Peloponnesian allies opposed this arrangement even to the
extent that they threatened to withdraw their contingent altogether
if it were allowed to stand. And so, says Herodotus, the Athenians,
unwilling to sacrifice the national cause, with a laudable patriotism
waived their claim. The refusal of the Peloponnesians was not
unnatural. It was one thing to submit to the hegemony of the ancient
and respectable Sparta; it was another thing to place themselves under
the leadership of this pushing parvenu state, whose rise to importance
had been so extremely rapid. On the other hand, the magnanimous
attitude of Athens was based, no doubt, on the simple arithmetical
calculation that 270 ships were better than 150. Herodotus implies that
there had been a change in the attitude of the allies. The profound
dissatisfaction which they felt with the Northern policy may easily
account for this. At the time of the embassy to Sicily the question of
the locality of the defence had probably not been raised in a highly
controversial form.
[Illustration: PLAIN OF EUBŒA.
_From Sketch by E. Lear._]
1. Mount Dirphys (Delph).
[_To face page_ 321.
]
In this part of the Artemisium narrative the Athenian bias is as
strongly marked as elsewhere: it contrasts, however, with the major
portion of the story in the fact that it seems to rest upon an official
basis. The details of the numbers of the various contingents, and the
correct sum-total of the whole,—a trait lacking at times in Herodotus’
history,—render it unlikely that the information can have been derived
from mere tradition, or from personal recollection.
◆12th day.◆
The fleet of Xerxes remained at Therma for twelve days after the army
had departed. It had now the most difficult and dangerous part of
its voyage to perform. From Therma to the Pagasætic Gulf there is no
harbour into which it could put; and it is probable that the intention
was to perform the passage in one continuous stretch.
◆H. vii. 179.◆
The fast-sailing vessels were sent forward as scouts towards the island
Skiathos, which lies off the mouth of the Euripus. ◆H. vii. 179.◆ These
vessels came across three Greek ships, Trœzenian, Æginetan, and Attic
vessels respectively, engaged in a similar duty off the mouth of the
Peneius river. ◆H. vii. 182.◆ When the Persian vessels came into sight,
the Greek ships fled. Not merely were they outnumbered, but also up
to this time the Greeks had had no experience which could give them
confidence in their own naval equipment when matched against that of
the Persian. ◆H. vii. 180, 181.◆ The Trœzenian and Æginetan vessels
were taken with their crews; the Athenian ship was run aground at the
mouth of the Peneius. Those aboard her escaped to shore, and finally,
after what must have been an adventurous journey, made their way to
Athens. ◆H. vii. 179. 183.◆ Apparently on the same day, the main body
of the fleet left Therma, and, after sailing the whole day through,
“arrived at Sepias and the strand between the city of Kasthanea and the
Sepiad Cape, in Magnesia.”
◆H. vii. 182.◆
On this day the Athenian fleet was at Artemisium. The promontory of
that name, crowned by the temple of Artemis, was the north-east point
of the island of Eubœa. The actual station of the fleet must have been
at least ten miles from the promontory, well within the strait, at a
point west of the mouth of the Pagasætic Gulf, where the fair way is
much narrower than in the outer part of the channel. ◆H. vii. 176.◆ The
name “Artemisian shore” seems to have been applicable to this part of
the coast of Eubœa, as well as to the immediate neighbourhood of the
promontory.
The capture of the Greek outlook vessels was reported to the Greek
fleet at Artemisium by means of fire signals from Skiathos.[130]
[Illustration: THE NARROWS AT CHALKIS.
_From Sketch by E. Lear._]
1. Venetian Castle, now destroyed.
[_To face page_ 323.
]
#ALLEGED PANIC OF THE GREEKS.#
◆H. vii. 182.◆
The possibilities of the case preclude the supposition that the
Greek fleet received the news sufficiently early for them to move from
Artemisium on that day. It therefore becomes a serious historical
question as to what interpretation is to be put upon the account which
Herodotus gives of the next step taken by the fleet. He says, “On
hearing this news the Greeks were frightened, and removed from their
anchorage at Artemisium to Chalkis, with intent to guard the Euripus,
leaving watchers posted on the heights of Eubœa.”
There are almost overwhelming reasons for doubting the truth of the
motives of this story; though, as is so often the case in Herodotus’
narrative, the facts appear to be true. It is probable that the Greek
fleet _did_ move towards, if not to, Chalkis, and that watchers _were_
posted on the heights of Eubœa. But the reason given for this change of
station is that the Greeks were panic-stricken at the capture of their
three scouting vessels. This reason is inadequate and incredible.
1. The Greeks had made up their minds to face the Persians at
Artemisium. Is it credible that so small a disaster should have led
to the adoption of a resolution, the effect of which, under the
circumstances, must have deranged the whole plan of campaign?
2. If such a panic had taken place for a reason so insignificant, is
it probable that any human power could have induced the Greeks to
return a few days later to their former station?
3. Is it credible that they should have retreated without warning the
garrison at Thermopylæ which would in that case have been
sacrificed?
4. If that garrison had been warned, would it not have retreated from
that advanced post in the same way that the army had withdrawn
from Tempe?
5. It is extremely unlikely that the withdrawal was made at night. It
is almost certain that it must have been made on the morning after
the news had been received, by which time the storm which burst
upon the Persian fleet at the Sepiad strand had already begun.
6. The motive alleged is in the highest degree suspicious, because
all through the narrative the services of the Athenians in keeping
the fleet at Artemisium are emphasized in the most marked manner.
It is probable that the motive given is a pure fabrication invented
at Athens and current at Athens in after-time. It is also probable
that the real reason for the withdrawal of the Greek fleet was the
impossibility of remaining in the North Euripus during the storm.
Such storms spring up with astonishing suddenness in these seas,
and give little or no warning of their approach; and it is probable
that the Greek fleet, caught unprepared, had to run for it to the
inner strait, where, once round the corner of Eubœa, it would be
sheltered by the mountains which form the great precipices on the
Euripus north of Chalkis. Whether it went to Chalkis or not, it is,
of course, impossible to say. It is probable it did not do so, for
Mount Kandili[131] ceases before Chalkis is reached, and the narrow
part of the Strait is exposed to the east and north-east. There is no
difficulty in identifying the nature of the storm. It blew on shore on
the Sepiad strand, and therefore must have been one of those E.N.E.
gales from the Black Sea, which are the most violent and most dangerous
of the storm winds of the Ægean. They may occur at any time of year.
Such a storm would blow right down the north bend of the Euripus.
The army at Thermopylæ must have known of the retirement of the fleet;
but it must have known also that there was every intention of returning
to the former station so soon as the weather allowed. For that reason
it held its ground.
The adventures of the ten Persian ships did not end with their capture
of the Athenian vessels. Three of them came to grief on the rock called
Murmex, which is in the fairway just at the entrance of the channel.
#THE STORM AT THE SEPIAD STRAND.#
On the evening of the twelfth day of the journal the position appears
to be as follows: the Greek fleet was at Artemisium; the Persian at the
Sepiad strand outside the strait; the Persian scouting vessels, or,
rather, the seven survivors of them, ◆H. vii. 183.◆ were probably
engaged in erecting a pillar on the Murmex rock as a danger mark to the
rest of the fleet.
The Sepiad shore was not sufficiently extensive for it to be possible
to draw up the whole of the Persian fleet upon it. A large number of
the vessels were obliged to remain at anchor, with their bows facing
seawards, in eight lines. ◆13th day.◆ These were surprised at dawn by
the storm. It arose suddenly, the sea having previously been quite
calm. The wind was from the east or E.N.E., known in that region as the
“Hellespontian wind,” not less known, nor less obnoxious to sailors at
the present day than it was in the days of Herodotus. The destruction
wrought in the fleet was enormous. Four hundred warships and an unknown
number of transports are said to have perished. The numbers are no
doubt greatly exaggerated; but the loss relatively to the size of the
fleet seems to have been very considerable. Such were the events of the
thirteenth day at the Sepiad strand. The Greek fleet, driven from the
North Euripus on that morning by the storm, took refuge in the inner
channel,—“at Chalkis,”—so says Herodotus.[132]
◆14th day. 15th day.◆
The storm lasted during the fourteenth and fifteenth days, the fleets
remaining at their respective stations.
◆16th day.◆
The events of the sixteenth day are of special importance. They are
crowded together in the narrative in a way that raises the suspicion
that the chronological error in the story is to be sought in this part
of it.
◆H. vii. 192.◆
The storm had come to an end on the fourth day; but on the day
following its commencement the Greeks received news of the disaster at
the Sepiad strand from the watchers posted on the heights of the Eubœa.
◆14th day.◆
“When the Greeks heard this, after offering prayer to their preserver
Poseidon, and pouring libation, they hastened straightway to
Artemisium, hoping that but few ships would oppose them.” There is
manifestly some mistake here. The Greek fleet could not possibly
have made its way back to Artemisium in the face of the storm. ◆16th
day.◆ It must have waited until the storm had blown itself out; that
is to say, it could not have returned to its former station until the
sixteenth day. The tale as it stands supplies a motive for the return
of the fleet such as will fit in with the main motive of the story.
◆H. vii. 193.◆
“They came for a second time to Artemisium and took up their station
there, and from that day to this have been accustomed to address
Poseidon by the name of ‘saviour’ then given to him. The barbarian,
when the wind dropped and the sea went down, dragged the vessels down
into the water and sailed along the coast round the cape of Magnesia,
into the gulf leading to Pagasæ. There is a place in this Gulf of
Magnesia where it is said that Herakles was left by Jason and his
comrades when he had been sent from the Argo to fetch water, when they
were sailing to Aias in Colchis after the golden fleece; for their
intention was, after watering there, to put out to sea. From this
circumstance the place got its name of Aphetæ. Here the fleet of Xerxes
came to anchor.”
It is fairly clear from the description that Aphetæ must have been
situated at the extremity of the long curved peninsula which extends
west from the south end of Magnesia, enclosing the Pagasætic Gulf on
the south.
The only other event which can be reasonably ascribed to this sixteenth
day is the capture by the Greek fleet of fifteen Persian vessels
which were belated in starting for Aphetæ. It is not difficult to
demonstrate, on Herodotus’ own showing, that their capture cannot have
taken place until well on in the afternoon.
The tale is as follows:
◆H. vii. 194.◆
“Fifteen of these ships (the Persian) had put out much later, and in
some way or other caught sight of the Greek vessels at Artemisium.
The barbarians thought they were their own ships, and sailed into the
hands of their enemies.”
#GREEKS RETURN TO ARTEMESIUM.#
◆H. vii. 191, _ad fin._◆
The storm had not ceased until that very morning. It is quite certain
that the battered Persian fleet must have required some hours of
preparation before it could put out from the Sepiad strand; and it did
not reach Aphetæ until the early afternoon. The fifteen vessels must
have come up some hours later, well on in the afternoon, since the main
fleet had evidently disappeared into the Pagasætic Gulf before they
entered the channel; otherwise they could not have made the mistake
they did make. The story of their capture shows that on the afternoon
of that day the Greek fleet was already back at Artemisium. Had it come
up from Chalkis that morning? It is not impossible that it should have
done so; but it is improbable.[133]
◆H. vii. 196.◆
“So the Persian fleet, with the exception of the fifteen
vessels which, as I have said, Sandokes commanded, came to Aphetæ.”
The composite character of the sources of the historian’s narrative is
well illustrated by the next episode in the strange story. It is of the
nature of a by-plot in the drama inserted with a view to illustrate
not merely the services of the Athenians in saving the situation, but
also the twofold character of the man who now becomes for the first
time prominent in the story. ◆H. viii 4.◆ In brief the tale is that the
fleet, after returning to Artemisium, discovered that the disaster at
the Sepiad strand had by no means been so great as had been imagined.
So alarmed were the Greeks at this, that “they discussed whether they
should retreat from Artemisium to Middle Greece.” The Eubœans, who thus
saw themselves likely to be suddenly deserted without the possibility
of providing for the safety of their children and households,
implored Eurybiades to allow them time to remove them to a place of
security. Finding they could make no impression upon him, they resorted
to Themistocles, to whom they offered a bribe of thirty talents, if
he would take measures to keep the fleet where it was. Themistocles
undertook to do so, and proceeded to bribe Eurybiades with a gift
of five talents, and Adeimantos, the Corinthian admiral, with three
talents.
The tale excites the strongest suspicion of having been an invention
of after-time, concocted by political opponents of Themistocles.
Herodotus’ whole attitude to Themistocles is suspicious. He is quite
unable to suppress the greatness of the services which he rendered to
the Greek cause; but he is ever ready to discount the value of those
services either by tales discreditable to the personal character of the
man who rendered them, ◆H. vii. 144.◆ or by attributing to him motives
other than those which really prompted his action.
Nor do the details of the story, when taken into consideration, tend
to make it appear more probable. No doubt the Peloponnesian members of
the fleet seized every possible occasion for urging such a withdrawal.
It must have been known to them that the force sent to Thermopylæ
did not represent any real effort on their part. It could hardly be
expected that they should display any large amount of zeal in carrying
out a policy of which they wholly disapproved, and in the execution
of which their own authorities were so manifestly half-hearted. They
knew that, if they left Artemisium, the army must leave Thermopylæ; and
they were no doubt convinced that that was the very best thing which
could possibly happen. But on the practical question of withdrawal,
other considerations must have influenced those in command. Unless the
retreat from Thermopylæ were begun many hours before the withdrawal of
the fleet, the army must be caught in a trap. With a light-armed enemy
in vastly superior numbers in hot pursuit, the retreat could not have
been rapid, and the Persian fleet would have had ample time to land
troops in such a position as would make it possible to cut the line of
it.
#REPORTED BRIBERY OF THEMISTOCLES.#
There is no trace whatever in the Thermopylæ story of a message having
been received from the fleet advising the garrison of its intended
withdrawal. That may be attributed to the incompleteness of the
story itself. This explanation, however, can hardly be considered
satisfactory in view of the fact that, had anything of the kind
occurred, such an incident would hardly have been omitted from a
version the main object of which was to depict the disaster as an act
of deliberate self-sacrifice on the part of Leonidas.
The decisive factor in the situation was that, bribed or not,
Eurybiades and Adeimantos could not possibly leave the Thermopylæ
garrison in the lurch.[134] The real significance in this, as in the
other similar stories in Herodotus relating to this time, is that it
brings into relief the existence of a strong party within the fleet
which was wholly opposed to the Northern policy. It also for the first
time indicates the part which Corinth seems’ to have played in the
war as the leader of this party of opposition to the Athenian policy.
Thus far it is reliable. The rest of the tale is, as has been said,
suspicious to the last degree,—suspicious, in what may be called its
local colouring,—suspicious, owing to the appalling recklessness of the
assertions which Greek politicians did not hesitate to make respecting
their political opponents.
◆Diod. xi. 12.◆
Diodorus’ version of Artemisium presents so many marked differences
to that of Herodotus, that it is impossible to suppose that it is
either drawn from Herodotus, or even derived from a common source.
There is absolutely no hint of bribery in it, nor, indeed, is there
any reference to the restiveness of the Peloponnesian contingent. What
is emphasized is the fact that Themistocles’ personal influence in the
fleet, and especially with Eurybiades, was very great, and that he was
the _de facto_ commander. There is no tendency to belittle the services
of Athens, though her claims to merit are put upon a different basis.
It is probable, then, that the Greek fleet, after its return
to Artemisium on that sixteenth day, did not face the situation with
a unanimous determination to make a stubborn fight of it. It would
have been surprising had unanimity prevailed, since the circumstances
as they stood, and as they were intended to stand, at Thermopylæ
cannot possibly have been a secret to members of the Peloponnesian
contingents. Still, so long as Leonidas remained there, the strait had
to be defended.
The Persians at Aphetæ were animated by very different feelings. ◆H.
viii. 6.◆ The Greek fleet was not to be defeated merely, but to be
captured. ◆17th day.◆ It was determined to despatch a large squadron,
◆H. viii. 7.◆ two hundred in number, to circumnavigate Eubœa, and to
block the South Euripus.[135]
Exaggerated as are the numbers given in Herodotus, the mere fact that
the Persian commanders ventured thus to divide their fleet in face of
an enemy with 271 ships, together with the comparative ill-success with
which the Greeks fought with that part of the fleet which remained
at Aphetæ, shows that the Persians must, even after the disaster on
the Sepiad strand, have had a very large number of vessels at their
disposal.
Herodotus does not say, but he certainly implies, ◆H. viii. 7. _ad
fin._◆ that this flying squadron was despatched on the very day of the
arrival at Aphetæ. It is not necessary to insist that this was, under
the circumstances, hardly possible. The fleet had been terribly knocked
about by the storm. The storm itself had only ceased that very morning.
There had been no time to refit before leaving for Aphetæ; and the
fleet had only reached that anchorage early in the afternoon of that
sixteenth day. ◆H. viii. 7, _ad init._◆ These two hundred vessels,
moreover, were evidently despatched by daylight.[136]
#PERSIAN SQUADRON SENT ROUND EUBŒA.#
It is here, no doubt, that one of those missing days has been omitted
from Herodotus’ narrative of Artemisium. The despatch of the
squadron round Eubœa must have taken place on the morning of the
seventeenth day.
The one fear of the Persians at this time was that the Greek fleet
would run away. They, consequently, adopted the stratagem of sending
the squadron of two hundred vessels by the channel north of Skiathos,
so as to give the impression that it was sailing to Therma or
elsewhere. It was an effective manœuvre, because the island completely
fills in the sea horizon of the mouth of the channel.
◆H. viii. 7. 18th day.◆
On the next day[137] they reviewed their fleet at Aphetæ, but otherwise
lay quiet, intending to wait for news of the encircling squadron.
Of the destination of the two hundred the Greeks do not appear to
have had any suspicion whatever, until Skyllias the diver, deserting
the Persian fleet, made his way across the strait and gave them
information. The utter confusion of this part of the Artemisium
story renders it very difficult to arrive at anything resembling a
certain conclusion as to what actually took place in consequence of
the receipt of this news. It is hardly conceivable that those in
command of the Greek fleet should have been quite unprepared for the
eventuality of a squadron being sent round to intercept their retreat
by Chalkis. There is no direct evidence on this point; the slight
evidence which does exist is of a circumstantial character. ◆H. viii.
14.◆ After describing the disaster which overtook the two hundred
vessels, Herodotus says that the news of it was brought to the fleet
at Artemisium by a squadron of fifty-three Attic vessels, or, at any
rate,—for his language is not quite explicit,—that the news arrived
with that squadron. This is the first mention of this body of ships.
It seems highly probable that it had been at Chalkis, guarding the
narrow passage there, and that, on receiving news of the disaster to
the Persian flying squadron, it went to join the rest of the fleet at
Artemisium.
The escape of Skyllias is asserted to have been made during the review,
and the consultation among the Greeks as to what course they must
adopt in consequence of his information was held on the day of the
first engagement.[138]
Herodotus reports that they determined to remain where they were for
that day and the greater part of the following night, and then, after
midnight, to go and meet the ships coming up through the south channel.
It is quite intelligible that, if the Greeks had not provided for the
defence of the narrows at Chalkis, their position was such as to cause
alarm, and to demand desperate measures.
But the probability is that there never was any intention on the part
of the Greek commanders to leave the station at Artemisium until some
blow had been inflicted on the fleet at Aphetæ.[139]
The Attic vessels were probably guarding the strait, which at Chalkis
was so narrow as to be easily defensible. Under no circumstances
could the fleet at Aphetæ have been left free to land troops behind
Thermopylæ.[140]
#ATTACK ON PERSIANS AT APHETÆ.#