THE MARCH OF THE TEN THOUSAND
In 404 B.C., soon after the disaster of Ægospotami, Darius, king of
Persia, died. His eldest son Artaxerxes succeeded to his father’s
throne.
Cyrus, the younger son, who was present at his father’s death, was
accused by Tissaphernes of trying to secure the throne for himself.
Artaxerxes believed Tissaphernes, and Cyrus was arrested, and would
have been put to death had not his mother pleaded that his life might
be spared.
The king listened to his mother’s request and set his brother free.
He even allowed him to govern the provinces that had been his in his
father’s lifetime.
But Cyrus felt no gratitude to his brother, he hated him, and was
determined if it were possible to seize his throne.
So he hired a large number of Greek soldiers, for now that there was
peace between Athens and Sparta, many of them were idle and glad to
take service under Cyrus.
The prince pretended that he was going to fight against Tissaphernes,
and no one save himself and the Spartan, Clearchus, who was the leader
of the Greeks, knew that the army was going to Babylon to fight against
Artaxerxes, king of Persia.
Among the Greek soldiers was Xenophon, a scholar and a pupil of
Socrates, who wrote the story of this expedition.
Early in 401 B.C., Cyrus assembled his troops at Sardis. When they
arrived at Tarsus, a city on the coast of Cilicia, the soldiers began
to suspect that Cyrus was going to lead them against Artaxerxes. They
were not afraid of the great king, but they were afraid to leave the
sea behind them, for that was ever a terrible thing to the Greeks. So
they refused to march farther.
Clearchus, who was a stern commander and no favourite with his men,
tried in vain to quell their rebellion, but all his efforts were vain.
Not a step forward would they march.
He had used his authority and failed, now he resolved not to command
but to persuade. So he called his men together again, and as he looked
at them he wept.
Their grim, stern commander shedding tears! The soldiers stared at him
in open-eyed wonder.
Then Clearchus bade them see in how difficult a position they had
placed him, for he must either fail Cyrus or forsake them. Forsake
them he could not, so he declared, for were they not ‘his country, his
friends, and his allies’?
These words pleased the soldiers well, but what pleased them even more
was that when Cyrus sent to ask their commander to go to his tent, he
refused to go.
But they were less content when Clearchus reminded them that as they
refused to follow Cyrus, they could no longer expect him to give them
food or wages. What, he asked them, did they mean to do?
All that they could do was to send a few of their number to the prince
to ask him where he intended to lead them.
Cyrus answered that he was taking them to the river Euphrates, to fight
against a Persian rebel, and at the same time he offered to increase
their wages if they would obey Clearchus.
The Greeks were far from home, and not knowing what else to do, they
agreed to follow their commander. But they did not trust Cyrus,
and they still suspected that he wished to march beyond the river
Euphrates. And when they reached the river their suspicions proved
true, for Cyrus told them plainly that he was going to Babylon to
dethrone his brother Artaxerxes.
As the Euphrates was unusually shallow, the army was able to cross over
on foot, and soon afterwards it was in the desert of Arabia.
Xenophon tells us that the desert was ‘smooth as a sea.’ There were no
large trees in all the great expanse, but there were many shrubs that
had a pleasant scent.
The soldiers did not find the march across the desert dull, for they
saw many strange beasts, unlike any they had ever seen--wild asses,
ostriches, antelopes,--and these they hunted with zest.
When the desert lay behind them they found themselves in a land where
fields had been dug and gardens tended. Here, too, a little before
them, was Artaxerxes, with a great army, ready to fight to the death
for his crown.
The king was encamped at a place called Cunascæ, where in the summer of
401 B.C. a battle was fought. Strange as it may seem, before a blow was
struck, the Persians were seized with panic and turned to flee. Only
Tissaphernes at the head of the cavalry stood firm.
Cyrus with a small body of men, about six hundred in number, dashed
upon the centre of the army, for there, surrounded by six thousand
horsemen, was Artaxerxes. The guards scattered before his fierce
attack, and the king turned to fly with them.
Then Cyrus, careless of aught save his desire to slay his brother, and
gain his crown, galloped after him, attended by only a few of his own
bodyguard.
As he drew near to the king, he hurled a javelin at him and wounded him
slightly. Almost at the same moment Cyrus himself was wounded in the
eye, and shortly after he fell from his horse and was slain.
Cyrus was dead, and ten thousand Greek soldiers were left alone with
their generals in a strange land, surrounded by enemies. Tissaphernes
pretended to be a friend to the Greeks, and offered to guide them
safely home. So the two armies set out together, but before long the
Greek soldiers grew suspicious of the Persians. To reassure the men,
Tissaphernes invited Clearchus and his captains to his tent.
The Greek general accepted the invitation, and, never dreaming of
treachery, he went to the Persian’s tent with four other generals,
twenty captains and a few soldiers.
No sooner had they entered than the captains and soldiers were seized
and put to death by the order of Tissaphernes. Clearchus and the other
generals were loaded with chains and sent to the king. Artaxerxes
commanded that they, too, should be put to death.
The Persians believed that the Greek army would now be forced to
surrender. For, alone in an unknown land, without a leader, how could
they hope to reach their own country?
But the greatness of their danger roused the courage of the Greeks.
Xenophon, who was at the time only a young man, made an eloquent speech
to the army, bidding them choose new generals and obey them, for in
this way only could they hope to escape from their enemies.
The men did as he advised, choosing Xenophon himself as one of the new
generals.
And now began the retreat of the ten thousand through untold
difficulties. To go back the same way as they had come was impossible,
for the roads would be guarded by the Persians. So they turned to the
north and marched through a wild and barren country, where fierce
hillmen held the narrow passes through which they must pass.
Sometimes the savage tribes hurled down upon them from the heights
great pieces of rock, and the soldiers lived in dread of being crushed
to death by their unseen foes.
When they reached Armenia it was December and bitterly cold. They were
overtaken by a snowstorm so severe that many of the men lost their way.
In vain they tried to rejoin their comrades, and at length, utterly
worn out, they stumbled into great snowdrifts or lay down on the road
to die.
Still the army struggled bravely on, in the face of the biting north
wind, until at length it reached a tributary of the river Euphrates.
This they crossed in safety, to find that most of their difficulties
were over, for soon after they reached a city called Gymnias.
Gymnias was a prosperous mining town, and the inhabitants welcomed the
ten thousand gladly and gave them food and shelter, after they had
heard of the terrible difficulties through which the men had come.
But the soldiers did not linger long at Gymnias. They were eager to set
out again, for a guide promised that in five days he would bring them
to the sea.
‘On the fifth day the Greeks came to a hill, and when the van reached
the summit a great cry arose. When Xenophon and those at the rear heard
it they thought that an enemy was attacking in front; but when the cry
increased as fresh men continually came up to the summit, Xenophon
thought it must be something more serious, and galloped forward to the
front with his cavalry.
‘As he drew near he heard what the cry was--“The Sea, the Sea.”’
A few days more and the ten thousand were on Greek soil. Here they
rested for a month, offering glad sacrifices of thanksgiving to Zeus,
who had brought them back in safety to their own land.