THE BATTLE OF THERMOPYLAE
Xerxes looked on while his soldiers fought at the entrance to the
pass. And they did their best, for they were unwilling that their king
should see them beaten back by men who had spent their days in games or
in bedecking their hair. But they could not stand against the fierce
attacks of the Spartans, and at length, when many of their number had
been slain, they withdrew.
The king then ordered his own chosen bodyguard, the ten thousand famous
Immortals, to advance against the gallant defenders of the pass.
Even at the approach of these renowned warriors, the Spartans did not
waver. They pretended to flee, only to turn and slay the barbarians who
had followed them into the pass. At length after a furious conflict,
the Immortals were forced to give way and return to their camp.
Three times as he watched his Immortals, Xerxes sprang from his throne,
thinking that all was lost. But the next day he sent them against the
foe once more, for now he believed that the Spartans would be too weary
to fight.
But Leonidas was careful of the little band he commanded. It was easy
to hold the pass with only a small number of men. As each company grew
tired, the king ordered it to withdraw and sent a fresh one to take its
place. Soon the entrance to the pass was choked with the dead bodies of
the barbarians.
Some of the most valiant of Xerxes’ warriors were next sent against the
enemy. But they were cowed by the bravery of the Spartans, and as they
saw their comrades falling around them, they turned to flee. Then their
officers drove them back with lashes.
For two days, the terrible slaughter never ceased, and Xerxes was
almost ready to leave the pass to its brave defenders, so hopeless
seemed the task of taking it.
But that night, a Greek named Ephialtes came to the great king, and for
a large sum of money, he offered to show the Persians a path which led
over the hill down to the pass of Thermopylae. The path was the tiny
track that was guarded by the Phocians.
The offer of the traitor was at once accepted, and at midnight Xerxes
sent his officer Hydarmes, at the head of his Immortals, to follow
Ephialtes.
‘All night long they followed the path with the mountains on the right
and on the left. The day was dawning when they reached the peak of
the mountain, and there the thousand Phocians were keeping watch and
guarding the pathway. While the Persians were climbing the hill, the
Phocians knew not of their coming, for the whole hill was covered with
oak trees, but they knew what had happened when the Persians reached
the summit. Not a breath of wind was stirring, and they heard the
trampling of their feet as they trod on the fallen oak leaves.’
No sooner had they heard than the arrows of the Immortals were pouring
in upon them. They fell back, leaving the pathway free, while they
hastily put on their armour and prepared to fight to the death. They
did not dream that the Immortals had no wish to fight with them. But
so it was, for the Persians took no more notice of them, but finding
the hill path free, they sped downward to the pass to take the Spartans
in the rear. The Phocians were left alone on the heights almost before
they were aware.
Leonidas had heard of the treachery of Ephialtes soon after the traitor
left the Persian king. He knew that to try to hold the pass now that he
would be attacked in the rear was certain death. Yet the brave king
did not hesitate, for his orders had been to hold the pass at all costs.
Nor did he waver as he remembered the ominous words of the oracle,
‘Sparta must be overthrown or one of her kings must perish.’ It seemed
that he was the king who was doomed to die, but what of that if his
country was saved?
He resolved that to Sparta alone should belong the glory of the defence
of Thermopylae. So while there was still time, he sent away all his
allies, keeping with him only his three hundred Spartans, seven hundred
Thespians who refused to leave him, and four hundred Boeotians, lest
they should join the enemy.
Then ‘when the sun arose, Xerxes poured out wine to the gods and the
barbarians arose for the onset, and the men of Leonidas knew now that
they must die.’ But they would die fighting, and before they were
attacked in the rear they would do great deeds.
Fierce and desperate was their defence, and before the fury of their
blows the barbarians fell in heaps. Once again, the Persian officers,
armed with whips, had to drive their men forward to face the small but
undaunted band.
In the confusion many of the great host of Xerxes were pushed into the
sea, while many more were trampled to death by their comrades.
So furious was the struggle, that at length the spears of the Spartans
were broken in their hands. In a moment, they had seized their swords
and hundreds of the Persians fell before their terrible thrusts.
But now the worst that could befall the Spartans happened. Leonidas,
their brave king Leonidas, was slain where he fought in the forefront
of the battle. A terrible struggle at once began for the body of the
king.
Four times the Spartans drove back the Persians, and then with one
tremendous effort they carried away the body of their king.
It was at this moment that the Immortals, led by the traitor,
Ephialtes, reached the pass. The Spartans hastily withdrew behind the
wall, which had been repaired by the order of their king. Here, on a
hillock, ‘they defended themselves to the last, such as had swords
using them, and the others resisting with their hands and teeth; till
the barbarians, who had in part pulled down the wall and attacked
them in front, in part had gone round and now encircled them upon
every side, overwhelmed and buried the remnant which was left, beneath
showers of missile weapons.’
As you read the story of the brave defence of Thermopylae, you do
not wonder that Leonidas and his three hundred Spartans have won for
themselves immortal fame.
On the hillock where the little band took their last stand, a stone
lion was placed in honour of king Leonidas, while in the pass itself a
pillar was erected on which were written these words:--
‘Go, tell the Spartans, thou that passest by,
That here obedient to their laws we lie.’
When the battle was over, Xerxes ordered his men to search for the body
of Leonidas. When it was found he ordered the head to be cut off and
the body to be hung upon a cross.
It was the custom of the Persians to honour the bodies of those who had
fallen fighting bravely against them. This unusual and cruel treatment
was but a proof of the fear the brave Spartan had inspired in the heart
of Xerxes. Nor could the king forget that he had been on the point of
leaving the pass in the hands of its brave defenders.
Demaratus could not look at the slaughter of his countrymen unmoved. He
had seemed to be a friend of the great king, yet now he longed to warn
the Spartans who had stayed at home that the Persians were ready to
march against them.
But how could he send a message unknown to the Persians. He soon
thought of a strange and less cruel way than had Histiaeus, who, you
remember, branded his secret on the head of his slave.
The exiled king took a writing tablet and scraped away the wax on which
letters were usually engraved. On the wood beneath he scratched the
message he wished to send. He then poured melted wax on the top of what
he had written, and the tablet looked as any other tablet looked.
When it reached Sparta, the peopled studied it with amazement. There
was a tablet, but where was the message? They turned it this way and
that, they peered at it now on one side, now on another--nothing was to
be seen.
Then Gorgo, whom you heard of last as a little maiden of eight years
old, gave the people advice as wise as she had given to her royal
father long before. She was grown up since those days and had been
married to brave king Leonidas.
‘Scrape off the wax,’ she said to the people, ‘and see if the message
lies on the wood beneath.’
And when this was done, there stood the warning words of Demaratus, so
that all might read.