THE BATTLE OF MARATHON
While the council of war was being held, a youth named Philippides was
on his way to Sparta to beg the citizens to hasten to the help of their
country. Philippides was sometimes called by his friends Pheidippides.
As Philippides sped on his errand a strange adventure befell him, for
it is told that he met the great god Pan:
‘There, in the cool of a cleft, sat he--majestical Pan.
Ivy drooped wanton, kissed his head, moss cushioned his hoof,
All the great God was good in the eyes grave-kindly--the curl
Carved on the bearded cheek, amused at a mortal’s awe,
As under the human trunk, the goat thighs grand I saw.
“Halt, Pheidippides!” halt I did, my brain in a whirl;
“Hither to me; why pale in my presence?” he gracious began.’
The young Athenian was too amazed to answer, he but gazed at the god in
silence. Then Pan asked why he was no longer worshipped in Athens, and
promised that he would fight among the ranks of the Athenians against
Persia, so that henceforth they would worship him in gratitude for his
help.
‘Test Pan, trust me!
Go bid Athens take heart, laugh Persia to scorn; have faith
In the temples and tombs. Go say to Athens, “The Goat-God saith;
When Persia--so much as strews not the soil--is flung under the sea,
Then praise Pan who fought in the ranks with your most and least,
Goat-thigh to greaved-thigh, made one cause with the free and the
bold.”’
As a pledge the god then gave to Philippides a handful of a herb called
fennel.
The youth then sped on as before until he reached Sparta. But although
the Spartans said they were willing to fight, they could not march
until the moon was full, for their religious rites forbade that they
should.
So Philippides, having done his errand, hastened back to Athens and
told the citizens all that had befallen him.
Glad that the god had promised his aid the Athenians at once set out
on their march to Marathon. Here they were joined by a force of one
thousand men from the little town of Plataea. They came to show their
gratitude to the Athenians who had sent help to them when they were
attacked by their enemies.
From their camp on a hill above the plain of Marathon, the Greeks
looked down upon the vast army of the Persians. For several days no
battle was fought, the Persians being unable to attack the Athenians
without danger as they were on the hill.
At length Miltiades, whom the other nine generals were willing to
follow, resolved to wait no longer. He ordered his men to advance at a
sharp run down the hill and to charge the enemy.
When they had started, the soldiers could not stop themselves. Quicker
and quicker they ran, until, when they reached the plain, they crashed
into the Persian army with tremendous force.
The shock was so great that the enemy gave way before it and was driven
by the Athenians toward the sea or toward a small marsh that lay at one
end of the plain.
But while both wings of the Greek army were victorious, the centre,
which was weak, would have been beaten, had not Miltiades seen the
danger and called back those who were pursuing the scattered Persian
wings. Only after a fierce struggle was the centre of the Persian army
also driven to the shore in utter confusion.
Those who escaped the sword of the Athenians tried to reach their
ships, but seven of the vessels had been seized by the victors. In the
struggle on the shore, Callimachus the polemarch was slain.
The battle of Marathon was won, and the glory of the victory was due to
the prowess and skill of Miltiades.
No sooner was the victory certain, than the whole army cried that
Philippides should race once again, but this time to the Acropolis, to
tell Athens that by the help of Pan she was indeed saved.
‘So Pheidippides flung down his shield,
Ran like fire once more; and the space ’twixt the Fennel-field
And Athens was stubble again, a field which a fire runs through,
Till in he broke; “Rejoice, we conquer.” Like wine through clay
Joy in his blood bursting his heart, he died--the bliss!...
So is Pheidippides happy for ever, the noble, strong man
Who could race like a god, bear the face of a god, whom a god loved
so well.
He saw the land saved he had helped to save and was suffered to tell
Such tidings, yet never decline, but gloriously as he began
So to end gloriously--once to shout, thereafter be mute:
“Athens is saved!” Pheidippides dies in the shout for his meed.’
[Illustration: They crashed into the Persian army with tremendous
force]