As for traitors, he was sure that, whatever treachery might lurk among

some of the higher born and wealthier Athenians, the rank and file whom

he commanded were ready to do their utmost in his and their own cause.

With regard to future attacks from Asia, he might reasonably hope that

one victory would inspirit all Greece to combine against the common foe;

and that the latent seeds of revolt and disunion in the Persian empire

would soon burst forth and paralyze its energies, so as to leave Greek

independence secure.

With these hopes and risks, Miltiades, on the afternoon of a September

day, B.C. 490, gave the word for the Athenian army to prepare for

battle. There were many local associations connected with those mountain

heights which were calculated powerfully to excite the spirits of the

men, and of which the commanders well knew how to avail themselves in

their exhortations to their troops before the encounter. Marathon itself

was a region sacred to Hercules. Close to them was the fountain of

Macaria, who had in days of yore devoted herself to death for the

liberty of her people. The very plain on which they were to fight was

the scene of the exploits of their national hero, Theseus; and there,

too, as old legends told, the Athenians and the Heraclidæ had routed the

invader, Eurystheus.

These traditions were not mere cloudy myths or idle fictions, but

matters of implicit earnest faith to the men of that day, and many a

fervent prayer arose from the Athenian ranks to the heroic spirits who,

while on earth, had striven and suffered on that very spot, and who were

believed to be now heavenly powers, looking down with interest on their

still beloved country, and capable of interposing with superhuman aid in

its behalf.

According to old national custom, the warriors of each tribe were

arrayed together; neighbor thus fighting by the side of neighbor, friend

by friend, and the spirit of emulation and the consciousness of

responsibility excited to the very utmost. The War-ruler, Callimachus,

had the leading of the right wing; the Platæans formed the extreme left;

and Themistocles and Aristides commanded the centre. The line consisted

of the heavy-armed spearmen only; for the Greeks--until the time of

Iphicrates--took little or no account of light-armed soldiers in a

pitched battle, using them only in skirmishes, or for the pursuit of a

defeated enemy. The panoply of the regular infantry consisted of a long

spear, of a shield, helmet, breastplate, greaves, and short sword.

Thus equipped, they usually advanced slowly and steadily into action in

a uniform phalanx of about eight spears deep. But the military genius of

Miltiades led him to deviate on this occasion from the commonplace

tactics of his countrymen. It was essential for him to extend his line

so as to cover all the practicable ground, and to secure himself from

being outflanked and charged in the rear by the Persian horse. This

extension involved the weakening of his line. Instead of a uniform

reduction of its strength, he determined on detaching principally from

his centre, which, from the nature of the ground, would have the best

opportunities for rallying, if broken; and on strengthening his wings so

as to insure advantage at those points; and he trusted to his own skill

and to his soldiers' discipline for the improvement of that advantage

into decisive victory.[45]

[Footnote 45: It is remarkable that there is no other instance of a

Greek general deviating from the ordinary mode of bringing a phalanx of

spearmen into action until the battles of Leuctra and Mantinea, more

than a century after Marathon, when Epaminondas introduced the tactics

which Alexander the Great in ancient times, and Frederick the Great in

modern times, made so famous, of concentrating an overpowering force to

bear on some decisive point of the enemy's line, while he kept back, or,

in military phrase, refused the weaker part of his own.]

In this order, and availing himself probably of the inequalities of the

ground, so as to conceal his preparations from the enemy till the last

possible moment, Miltiades drew up the eleven thousand infantry whose

spears were to decide this crisis in the struggle between the European

and the Asiatic worlds. The sacrifices by which the favor of heaven was

sought, and its will consulted, were announced to show propitious omens.

The trumpet sounded for action, and, chanting the hymn of battle, the

little army bore down upon the host of the foe. Then, too, along the

mountain slopes of Marathon must have resounded the mutual exhortation

which Æschylus, who fought in both battles, tells us was afterward heard

over the waves of Salamis: "On, sons of the Greeks! Strike for the

freedom of your country! strike for the freedom of your children and of

your wives--for the shrines of your fathers' gods, and for the

sepulchres of your sires. All--all are now staked upon the strife."

Instead of advancing at the usual slow pace of the phalanx, Miltiades

brought his men on at a run. They were all trained in the exercise of

the _palæstra_, so that there was no fear of their ending the charge in

breathless exhaustion; and it was of the deepest importance for him to

traverse as rapidly as possible the mile or so of level ground that lay

between the mountain foot and the Persian outposts, and so to get his

troops into close action before the Asiatic cavalry could mount, form,

and manoeuvre against him, or their archers keep him long under fire,

and before the enemy's generals could fairly deploy their masses.

"When the Persians," says Herodotus, "saw the Athenians running down on

them, without horse or bowmen, and scanty in numbers, they thought them

a set of madmen rushing upon certain destruction." They began, however,

to prepare to receive them, and the Eastern chiefs arrayed, as quickly

as time and place allowed, the varied races who served in their motley

ranks. Mountaineers from Hyrcania and Afghanistan, wild horsemen from

the steppes of Khorassan, the black archers of Ethiopia, swordsmen from

the banks of the Indus, the Oxus, the Euphrates and the Nile, made ready

against the enemies of the Great King.

But no national cause inspired them except the division of native

Persians; and in the large host there was no uniformity of language,

creed, race or military system. Still, among them there were many

gallant men, under a veteran general; they were familiarized with

victory, and in contemptuous confidence their infantry, which alone had

time to form, awaited the Athenian charge. On came the Greeks, with one

unwavering line of leveled spears, against which the light targets, the

short lances and cimeters of the Orientals offered weak defence. The

front rank of the Asiatics must have gone down to a man at the first

shock. Still they recoiled not, but strove by individual gallantry and

by the weight of numbers to make up for the disadvantages of weapons and

tactics, and to bear back the shallow line of the Europeans. In the

centre, where the native Persians and the Sacæ fought, they succeeded in

breaking through the weakened part of the Athenian phalanx; and the

tribes led by Aristides and Themistocles were, after a brave resistance,

driven back over the plain, and chased by the Persians up the valley

toward the inner country. There the nature of the ground gave the

opportunity of rallying and renewing the struggle.

Meanwhile, the Greek wings, where Miltiades had concentrated his chief

strength, had routed the Asiatics opposed to them; and the Athenian and

Platæan officers, instead of pursuing the fugitives, kept their troops

well in hand, and, wheeling round, they formed the two wings together.

Miltiades instantly led them against the Persian centre, which had

hitherto been triumphant, but which now fell back, and prepared to

encounter these new and unexpected assailants. Aristides and

Themistocles renewed the fight with their reorganized troops, and the

full force of the Greeks was brought into close action with the Persian

and Sacean divisions of the enemy. Datis' veterans strove hard to keep

their ground, and evening was approaching before the stern encounter was

decided.

But the Persians, with their slight wicker shields, destitute of body

armor, and never taught by training to keep the even front and act with

the regular movement of the Greek infantry, fought at heavy disadvantage

with their shorter and feebler weapons against the compact array of

well-armed Athenian and Platæan spearmen, all perfectly drilled to

perform each necessary evolution in concert, and to preserve a uniform

and unwavering line in battle. In personal courage and in bodily

activity the Persians were not inferior to their adversaries. Their

spirits were not yet cowed by the recollection of former defeats; and

they lavished their lives freely, rather than forfeit the fame which

they had won by so many victories. While their rear ranks poured an

incessant shower of arrows over the heads of their comrades, the

foremost Persians kept rushing forward, sometimes singly, sometimes in

desperate groups of ten or twelve, upon the projecting spears of the

Greeks, striving to force a lane into the phalanx, and to bring their

cimeters and daggers into play. But the Greeks felt their superiority,

and though the fatigue of the long-continued action told heavily on

their inferior numbers, the sight of the carnage that they dealt upon

their assailants nerved them to fight still more fiercely on.

At last the previously unvanquished lords of Asia turned their backs and

fled, and the Greeks followed, striking them down, to the water's

edge,[46] where the invaders were now hastily launching their galleys,

and seeking to embark and fly. Flushed with success, the Athenians

attacked and strove to fire the fleet. But here the Asiatics resisted

desperately, and the principal loss sustained by the Greeks was in the

assault on the ships. Here fell the brave War-ruler Callimachus, the

general Stesilaus, and other Athenians of note. Seven galleys were

fired; but the Persians succeeded in saving the rest. They pushed off

from the fatal shore; but even here the skill of Datis did not desert

him, and he sailed round to the western coast of Attica, in hopes to

find the city unprotected, and to gain possession of it from some of the

partisans of Hippias.

[Footnote 46:

The flying Mede, his shaftless broken bow;

The fiery Greek, his red pursuing spear;

Mountains above, Earth's, Ocean's plain below,

Death in the front, Destruction in the rear!

Such was the scene.--Byron.]

Miltiades, however, saw and counteracted his manoeuvre. Leaving

Aristides, and the troops of his tribe, to guard the spoil and the

slain, the Athenian commander led his conquering army by a rapid

night-march back across the country to Athens. And when the Persian

fleet had doubled the Cape of Sunium and sailed up to the Athenian

harbor in the morning, Datis saw arrayed on the heights above the city

the troops before whom his men had fled on the preceding evening. All

hope of further conquest in Europe for the time was abandoned, and the

baffled armada returned to the Asiatic coasts.

After the battle had been fought, but while the dead bodies were yet on

the ground, the promised reënforcement from Sparta arrived. Two thousand

Lacedæmonian spearmen, starting immediately after the full moon, had

marched the hundred and fifty miles between Athens and Sparta in the

wonderfully short time of three days. Though too late to share in the

glory of the action, they requested to be allowed to march to the

battle-field to behold the Medes. They proceeded thither, gazed on the

dead bodies of the invaders, and then praising the Athenians and what

they had done, they returned to Lacedæmon.

The number of the Persian dead was sixty-four hundred; of the Athenians,

one hundred and ninety-two. The number of the Platæans who fell is not

mentioned; but, as they fought in the part of the army which was not

broken, it cannot have been large.

The apparent disproportion between the losses of the two armies is not

surprising when we remember the armor of the Greek spearmen, and the

impossibility of heavy slaughter being inflicted by sword or lance on

troops so armed, as long as they kept firm in their ranks.[47]

[Footnote 47: Mitford well refers to Crecy, Poictiers, and Agincourt as

instances of similar disparity of loss between the conquerors and the

conquered.]

The Athenian slain were buried on the field of battle. This was contrary

to the usual custom, according to which the bones of all who fell

fighting for their country in each year were deposited in a public

sepulchre in the suburb of Athens called the "Ceramicus." But it was

felt that a distinction ought to be made in the funeral honors paid to

the men of Marathon, even as their merit had been distinguished over

that of all other Athenians. A lofty mound was raised on the plain of

Marathon, beneath which the remains of the men of Athens who fell in the

battle were deposited. Ten columns were erected on the spot, one for

each of the Athenian tribes; and on the monumental column of each tribe

were graven the names of those of its members whose glory it was to have

fallen in the great battle of liberation. The antiquarian Pausanias read

those names there six hundred years after the time when they were first

graven.[48] The columns have long perished, but the mound still marks

the spot where the noblest heroes of antiquity repose.

[Footnote 48: Pausanias stales, with implicit belief, that the

battle-field was haunted at night by supernatural beings, and that the

noise of combatants and the snorting of horses were heard to resound on

it. The superstition has survived the change of creeds, and the

shepherds of the neighborhood still believe that spectral warriors

contend on the plain at midnight, and they say that they have heard the

shouts of the combatants and the neighing of the steeds.]

A separate tumulus was raised over the bodies of the slain Platæans, and

another over the light-armed slaves who had taken part and had fallen in

the battle.[49] There was also a separate funeral monument to the

general to whose genius the victory was mainly due. Miltiades did not

live long after his achievement at Marathon, but he lived long enough to

experience a lamentable reverse of his popularity and success. As soon

as the Persians had quitted the western coasts of the Ægean, he proposed

to an assembly of the Athenian people that they should fit out seventy

galleys, with a proportionate force of soldiers and military stores, and

place it at his disposal; not telling them whither he meant to lead it,

but promising them that if they would equip the force he asked for, and

give him discretionary powers, he would lead it to a land where there

was gold in abundance to be won with ease.

[Footnote 49: It is probable that the Greek light-armed irregulars were

active in the attack on the Persian ships, and it was in this attack

that the Greeks suffered their principal loss.]

The Greeks of that time believed in the existence of eastern realms

teeming with gold, as firmly as the Europeans of the sixteenth century

believed in El Dorado of the West. The Athenians probably thought that

the recent victor of Marathon, and former officer of Darius, was about

to lead them on a secret expedition against some wealthy and unprotected

cities of treasure in the Persian dominions. The armament was voted and

equipped, and sailed eastward from Attica, no one but Miltiades knowing

its destination until the Greek isle of paros was reached, when his true

object appeared. In former years, while connected with the Persians as

prince of the Chersonese, Miltiades had been involved in a quarrel with

one of the leading men among the Parians, who had injured his credit

and caused some slights to be put upon him at the court of the Persian

satrap Hydarnes. The feud had ever since rankled in the heart of the

Athenian chief, and he now attacked Paros for the sake of avenging

himself on his ancient enemy.

His pretext, as general of the Athenians, was, that the Parians had

aided the armament, of Datis with a war-galley. The Parians pretended to

treat about terms of surrender, but used the time which they thus gained

in repairing the defective parts of the fortifications of their city,

and they then set the Athenians at defiance. So far, says Herodotus, the

accounts of all the Greeks agree. But the Parians in after years told

also a wild legend, how a captive priestess of a Parian temple of the

Deities of the Earth promised Miltiades to give him the means of

capturing Paros; how, at her bidding, the Athenian general went alone at

night and forced his way into a holy shrine, near the city gate, but

with what purpose it was not known; how a supernatural awe came over

him, and in his flight he fell and fractured his leg; how an oracle

afterward forbade the Parians to punish the sacrilegious and traitorous

priestess, "because it was fated that Miltiades should come to an ill

end, and she was only the instrument to lead, him to evil." Such was the

tale that Herodotus heard at Paros. Certain it was that Miltiades either

dislocated or broke his leg during an unsuccessful siege of the city,

and returned home in evil plight with his baffled and defeated forces.

The indignation of the Athenians was proportionate to the hope and

excitement which his promises had raised. Xanthippas, the head of one of

the first families in Athens, indicted him before the supreme popular

tribunal for the capital offence of having deceived the people. His

guilt was undeniable, and the Athenians passed their verdict

accordingly. But the recollections of Lemnos and Marathon, and the sight

of the fallen general, who lay stretched on a couch before them, pleaded

successfully in mitigation of punishment, and the sentence was commuted

from death to a fine of fifty talents. This was paid by his son, the

afterward illustrious Cimon, Miltiades dying, soon after the trial, of

the injury which he had received at Paros.

The melancholy end of Miltiades, after his elevation to such a height

of power and glory, must often have been recalled to the minds of the

ancient Greeks by the sight of one in particular of the memorials of the

great battle which he won. This was the remarkable statue--minutely

described by Pausanias--which the Athenians, in the time of Pericles,

caused to be hewn out of a huge block of marble, which, it was believed,

had been provided by Datis, to form a trophy of the anticipated victory

of the Persians. Phidias fashioned out of this a colossal image of the

goddess Nemesis, the deity whose peculiar function was to visit the

exuberant prosperity both of nations and individuals with sudden and

awful reverses. This statue was placed in a temple of the goddess at

Rhamnus, about eight miles from Marathon. Athens itself contained

numerous memorials of her primary great victory. Panenus, the cousin of

Phidias, represented it in fresco on the walls of the painted porch;

and, centuries afterward, the figures of Miltiades and Callimachus at

the head of the Athenians were conspicuous in the fresco. The tutelary

deities were exhibited taking part in the fray. In the background were

seen the Phoenician galleys, and, nearer to the spectator, the Athenians

and the Platæans--distinguished by their leather helmets--were chasing

routed Asiatics into the marshes and the sea. The battle was sculptured

also on the Temple of Victory in the Acropolis, and even now there may

be traced on the frieze the figures of the Persian combatants with their

lunar shields, their bows and quivers, their curved cimeters, their

loose trousers, and Phrygian tiaras.

These and other memorials of Marathon were the produce of the meridian

age of Athenian intellectual splendor, of the age of Phidias and

Pericles; for it was not merely by the generation whom the battle

liberated from Hippias and the Medes that the transcendent importance of

their victory was gratefully recognized. Through the whole epoch of her

prosperity, through the long Olympiads of her decay, through centuries

after her fall, Athens looked back on the day of Marathon as the

brightest of her national existence.

By a natural blending of patriotic pride with grateful piety, the very

spirits of the Athenians who fell at Marathon were deified by their

countrymen. The inhabitants of the district of Marathon paid religious

rites to them, and orators solemnly invoked them in their most

impassioned adjurations before the assembled men of Athens. "Nothing was

omitted that could keep alive the remembrance of a deed which had first

taught the Athenian people to know its own strength, by measuring it

with the power which had subdued the greater part of the known world.

The consciousness thus awakened fixed its character, its station, and

its destiny; it was the spring of its later great actions and ambitious

enterprises."

It was not indeed by one defeat, however signal, that the pride of

Persia could be broken, and her dreams of universal empire dispelled.

Ten years afterward she renewed her attempts upon Europe on a grander

scale of enterprise, and was repulsed by Greece with greater and

reiterated loss. Larger forces and heavier slaughter than had been seen

at Marathon signalized the conflicts of Greeks and Persians at

Artemisium, Salamis, Platæa, and the Eurymedon. But, mighty and

momentous as these battles were, they rank not with Marathon in

importance. They originated no new impulse. They turned back no current

of fate. They were merely confirmatory of the already existing bias

which Marathon had created. The day of Marathon is the critical epoch in

the history of the two nations. It broke forever the spell of Persian

invincibility, which had previously paralyzed men's minds. It generated

among the Greeks the spirit which beat back Xerxes, and afterward led on

Xenophon, Agesilaus, and Alexander, in terrible retaliation through

their Asiatic campaigns. It secured for mankind the intellectual

treasures of Athens, the growth of free institutions, the liberal

enlightenment of the Western world, and the gradual ascendency for many

ages of the great principles of European civilization.

EXPLANATORY REMARKS ON SOME OF THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF THE BATTLE OF

MARATHON

Nothing is said by Herodotus of the Persian cavalry taking any part in

the battle, although he mentions that Hippias recommended the Persians

to land at Marathon, because the plain was favorable for cavalry

evolutions. In the life of Miltiades which is usually cited as the

production of Cornelius Nepos, but which I believe to be of no authority

whatever, it is said that Miltiades protected his flanks from the

enemy's horse by an abatis of felled trees. While he was on the high

ground he would not have required this defence, and it is not likely

that the Persians would have allowed him to erect it on the plain.

But, in truth, whatever amount of cavalry we suppose Datis to have had

with him on the day of Marathon, their inaction in the battle is

intelligible, if we believe the attack of the Athenian spearmen to have

been as sudden as it was rapid. The Persian horse-soldier, on an alarm

being given, had to take the shackles off his horse, to strap the saddle

on, and bridle him, besides equipping himself (Xenophon), and when each

individual horseman was ready, the line had to be formed; and the time

that it takes to form the Oriental cavalry in line for a charge has, in

all ages, been observed by Europeans.

The wet state of the marshes at each end of the plain, in the time of

year when the battle was fought, has been adverted to by Wordsworth,[50]

and this would hinder the Persian general from arranging and employing

his horsemen on his extreme wings, while it also enabled the Greeks, as

they came forward, to occupy the whole breadth of the practicable ground

with an unbroken line of leveled spears, against which, if any Persian

horse advanced, they would be driven back in confusion upon their own

foot.

[Footnote 50: _Greece_.]

Even numerous and fully arrayed bodies of cavalry have been repeatedly

broken, both in ancient and modern warfare, by resolute charges of

infantry. For instance, it was by an attack of some picked cohorts that

Cæsar routed the Pompeian cavalry--which had previously defeated his

own--and won the battle of Pharsalia.

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