CHAPTER XII.

THE DEATH OF DARIUS.

B.C. 490-485

The Persian fleet sails southward.--Fate of Hippias.--Omens.--The

dream and the sneeze.--Hippias falls in battle.--Movements of the

Persian fleet.--The Persian fleet returns to Asia.--Anxiety of

Datis.--Datis finds a stolen statue.--Island of Delos.--Account of

the sacred island.--Its present condition.--Disposition of the

army.--Darius's reception of Datis.--Subsequent history of

Miltiades.--His great popularity.--Miltiades's influence

at Athens.--His ambitious designs.--Island and city of

Paros.--Appearance of the modern town.--Miltiades's proposition to

the Athenians.--They accept it.--Miltiades marches against

Paros.--Its resistance.--Miltiades is discouraged.--The captive

priestess.--Miltiades's interview with the priestess.--Her

instructions.--Miltiades attempts to enter the temple of Ceres.--He

dislocates a limb.--Miltiades returns to Athens.--He is

impeached.--Miltiades is condemned.--He dies of his wound.--The fine

paid.--Proposed punishment of Timo.--Timo saved by the Delphic

oracle.--Another expedition against Greece.--Preparations.--Necessity

for settling the succession.--Darius's two sons.--Their claims to the

throne.--Xerxes declared heir.--Death of Darius.--Character of

Darius.--Ground of his renown.

The city of Athens and the plain of Marathon are situated upon a

peninsula. The principal port by which the city was ordinarily

approached was on the southern shore of the peninsula, though the

Persians had landed on the northern side. Of course, in their retreat

from the field of battle, they fled to the north. When they were

beyond the reach of their enemies and fairly at sea, they were at

first somewhat perplexed to determine what to do. Datis was extremely

unwilling to return to Darius with the news of such a defeat. On the

other hand, there seemed but little hope of any other result if he

were to attempt a second landing.

Hippias, their Greek guide, was killed in the battle. He expected to

be killed, for his mind, on the morning of the battle, was in a state

of great despondency and dejection. Until that time he had felt a

strong and confident expectation of success, but his feelings had then

been very suddenly changed. His confidence had arisen from the

influence of a dream, his dejection from a cause more frivolous still;

so that he was equally irrational in his hope and in his despair.

The omen which seemed to him to portend success to the enterprise in

which he had undertaken to act as guide, was merely that he dreamed

one night that he saw, and spent some time in company with, his

mother. In attempting to interpret this dream in the morning, it

seemed to him that Athens, his native city, was represented by his

mother, and that the vision denoted that he was about to be restored

to Athens again. He was extremely elated at this supernatural

confirmation of his hopes, and would have gone into the battle certain

of victory, had it not been that another circumstance occurred at the

time of the landing to blast his hopes. He had, himself, the general

charge of the disembarkation. He stationed the ships at their proper

places near the shore, and formed the men upon the beach as they

landed. While he was thus engaged, standing on the sand, he suddenly

sneezed. He was an old man, and his teeth--those that remained--were

loose. One of them was thrown out in the act of sneezing, and it fell

into the sand. Hippias was alarmed at this occurrence, considering it

a bad omen. He looked a long time for the tooth in vain, and then

exclaimed that all was over. The joining of his tooth to his mother

earth was the event to which his dream referred, and there was now no

hope of any further fulfillment of it. He went on mechanically, after

this, in marshaling his men and preparing for battle, but his mind was

oppressed with gloomy forebodings. He acted, in consequence, feebly

and with indecision; and when the Greeks explored the field on the

morning after the battle, his body was found among the other mutilated

and ghastly remains which covered the ground.

As the Persian fleet moved, therefore, along the coast of Attica, they

had no longer their former guide. They were still, however, very

reluctant to leave the country. They followed the shore of the

peninsula until they came to the promontory of Sunium, which forms the

southeastern extremity of it. They doubled this cape, and then

followed the southern shore of the peninsula until they arrived at the

point opposite to Athens on that side. In the mean time, however, the

Spartan troops which had been sent for to aid the Athenians in the

contest, but which had not arrived in time to take part in the

battle, reached the ground; and the indications which the Persians

observed, from the decks of their galleys, that the country was

thoroughly aroused, and was every where ready to receive them,

deterred them from making any further attempts to land. After

lingering, therefore, a short time near the shore, the fleet directed

its course again toward the coasts of Asia.

The mind of Datis was necessarily very ill at ease. He dreaded the

wrath of Darius; for despots are very prone to consider military

failures as the worst of crimes. The expedition had not, however, been

entirely a failure. Datis had conquered many of the Greek islands, and

he had with him, on board his galleys, great numbers of prisoners, and

a vast amount of plunder which he had obtained from them. Still, the

greatest and most important of the objects which Darius had

commissioned him to accomplish had been entirely defeated, and he

felt, accordingly, no little anxiety in respect to the reception which

he was to expect at Susa.

One night he had a dream which greatly disturbed him. He awoke in the

morning with an impression upon his mind, which he had derived from

the dream, that some temple had been robbed by his soldiers in the

course of his expedition, and that the sacrilegious booty which had

been obtained was concealed somewhere in the fleet. He immediately

ordered a careful search to be instituted, in which every ship was

examined. At length they found, concealed in one of the galleys, a

golden statue of Apollo. Datis inquired what city it had been taken

from. They answered from Delium. Delium was on the coast of Attica,

near the place where the Persians had landed, at the time of their

advance on Marathon. Datis could not safely or conveniently go back

there to restore it to its place. He determined, therefore, to deposit

it at Delos for safe keeping, until it could be returned to its proper

home.

Delos was a small but very celebrated island near the center of the

AEgean Sea, and but a short distance from the spot where the Persian

fleet was lying when Datis made this discovery. It was a sacred

island, devoted to religious rites, and all contention, and violence,

and, so far as was possible, all suffering and death, were excluded

from it. The sick were removed from it; the dead were not buried

there; armed ships and armed men laid aside their hostility to each

other when they approached it. Belligerent fleets rode at anchor,

side by side, in peace, upon the smooth waters of its little port, and

an enchanting picture of peace, tranquillity, and happiness was seen

upon its shores. A large natural fountain, or spring, thirty feet in

diameter, and inclosed partly by natural rocks and partly by an

artificial wall, issued from the ground in the center of the island,

and sent forth a beautiful and fertilizing rill into a rich and happy

valley, through which it meandered, deviously, for several miles,

seeking the sea. There was a large and populous city near the port,

and the whole island was adorned with temples, palaces, colonnades,

and other splendid architectural structures, which made it the

admiration of all mankind. All this magnificence and beauty have,

however, long since passed away. The island is now silent, deserted,

and desolate, a dreary pasture, where cattle browse and feed, with

stupid indifference, among the ancient ruins. Nothing living remains

of the ancient scene of grandeur and beauty but the fountain. That

still continues to pour up its clear and pellucid waters with a

ceaseless and eternal flow.

It was to this Delos that Datis determined to restore the golden

statue. He took it on board his own galley, and proceeded with it,

himself, to the sacred island. He deposited it in the great temple of

Apollo, charging the priests to convey it, as soon as a convenient

opportunity should occur, to its proper destination at Delium.

The Persian fleet, after this business was disposed of, set sail

again, and pursued its course toward the coasts of Asia, where at

length the expedition landed in safety.

The various divisions of the army were then distributed in the

different provinces where they respectively belonged, and Datis

commenced his march with the Persian portion of the troops, and with

his prisoners and plunder, for Susa, feeling, however, very uncertain

how he should be received on his arrival there. Despotic power is

always capricious; and the character of Darius, which seems to have

been naturally generous and kind, and was rendered cruel and

tyrannical only through the influence of the position in which he had

been placed, was continually presenting the most opposite and

contradictory phases. The generous elements of it, fortunately for

Datis, seemed to be in the ascendency when the remnant of the Persian

army arrived at Susa. Darius received the returning general without

anger, and even treated the prisoners with humanity.

Before finally leaving the subject of this celebrated invasion, which

was brought to an end in so remarkable a manner by the great battle of

Marathon, it may be well to relate the extraordinary circumstances

which attended the subsequent history of Miltiades, the great

commander in that battle on the Greek side. Before the conflict, he

seems to have had no official superiority over the other generals,

but, by the resolute decision with which he urged the plan of giving

the Persians battle, and the confidence and courage which he

manifested in expressing his readiness to take the responsibility of

the measure, he placed himself virtually at the head of the Greek

command. The rest of the officers acquiesced in his pre-eminence, and,

waiving their claims to an equal share of the authority, they allowed

him to go forward and direct the operations of the day. If the day had

been lost, Miltiades, even though he had escaped death upon the field,

would have been totally and irretrievably ruined; but as it was won,

the result of the transaction was that he was raised to the highest

pinnacle of glory and renown.

And yet in this, as in all similar cases, the question of success or

of failure depended upon causes wholly beyond the reach of human

foresight or control. The military commander who acts in such

contingencies is compelled to stake every thing dear to him on results

which are often as purely hazardous as the casting of a die.

The influence of Miltiades in Athens after the Persian troops were

withdrawn was paramount and supreme. Finding himself in possession of

this ascendency, he began to form plans for other military

undertakings. It proved, in the end, that it would have been far

better for him to have been satisfied with the fame which he had

already acquired.

Some of the islands in the AEgean Sea he considered as having taken

part with the Persians in the invasion, to such an extent, at least,

as to furnish him with a pretext for making war upon them. The one

which he had specially in view, in the first instance, was Paros.

Paros is a large and important island situated near the center of the

southern portion of the AEgean Sea. It is of an oval form, and is about

twelve miles long. The surface of the land is beautifully diversified

and very picturesque, while, at the same time, the soil is very

fertile. In the days of Miltiades, it was very wealthy and populous,

and there was a large city, called also Paros, on the western coast of

the island, near the sea. There is a modern town built upon the site

of the former city, which presents a very extraordinary appearance, as

the dwellings are formed, in a great measure, of materials obtained

from the ancient ruins. Marble columns, sculptured capitals, and

fragments of what were once magnificent entablatures, have been used

to construct plain walls, or laid in obscure and neglected

pavements--all, however, still retaining, notwithstanding their

present degradation, unequivocal marks of the nobleness of their

origin. The quarries where the ancient Parian marble was obtained were

situated on this island, not very far from the town. They remain to

the present day in the same state in which the ancient workmen left

them.

In the time of Miltiades the island and the city of Paros were both

very wealthy and very powerful. Miltiades conceived the design of

making a descent upon the island, and levying an immense contribution

upon the people, in the form of a fine, for what he considered their

treason in taking part with the enemies of their countrymen. In order

to prevent the people of Paros from preparing for defense, Miltiades

intended to keep the object of his expedition secret for a time. He

therefore simply proposed to the Athenians that they should equip a

fleet and put it under his command. He had an enterprise in view, he

said, the nature of which he could not particularly explain, but he

was very confident of its success, and, if successful, he should

return, in a short time, laden with spoils which would enrich the

city, and amply reimburse the people for the expenses they would have

incurred. The force which he asked for was a fleet of seventy vessels.

So great was the popularity and influence which Miltiades had acquired

by his victory at Marathon, that this somewhat extraordinary

proposition was readily complied with. The fleet was equipped, and

crews were provided, and the whole armament was placed under

Miltiades's command. The men themselves who were embarked on board of

the galleys did not know whither they were going. Miltiades promised

them victory and an abundance of gold as their reward; for the rest,

they must trust, he said, to him, as he could not explain the actual

destination of the enterprise without endangering its success. The

men were all satisfied with these conditions, and the fleet set sail.

When it arrived on the coast of Paros, the Parians were, of course,

taken by surprise, but they made immediate preparations for a very

vigorous resistance. Miltiades commenced a siege, and sent a herald to

the city, demanding of them, as the price of their ransom, an immense

sum of money, saying, at the same time, that, unless they delivered up

that sum, or, at least, gave security for the payment of it, he would

not leave the place until the city was captured, and, when captured,

it should be wholly destroyed. The Parians rejected the demand, and

engaged energetically in the work of completing and strengthening

their defenses. They organized companies of workmen to labor during

the night, when their operations would not be observed, in building

new walls, and re-enforcing every weak or unguarded point in the line

of the fortifications. It soon appeared that the Parians were making

far more rapid progress in securing their position than Miltiades was

in his assaults upon it. Miltiades found that an attack upon a

fortified island in the AEgean Sea was a different thing from

encountering the undisciplined hordes of Persians on the open plains

of Marathon. There it was a contest between concentrated courage and

discipline on the one hand, and a vast expansion of pomp and parade on

the other; whereas now he found that the courage and discipline on his

part were met by an equally indomitable resolution on the part of his

opponents, guided, too, by an equally well-trained experience and

skill. In a word, it was Greek against Greek at Paros, and Miltiades

began at length to perceive that his prospect of success was growing

very doubtful and dim.

This state of things, of course, filled the mind of Miltiades with

great anxiety and distress; for, after the promises which he had made

to the Athenians, and the blind confidence which he had asked of them

in proposing that they should commit the fleet so unconditionally to

his command, he could not return discomfited to Athens without

involving himself in the most absolute disgrace. While he was in this

perplexity, it happened that some of his soldiers took captive a

Parian female, one day, among other prisoners. She proved to be a

priestess, from one of the Parian temples. Her name was Timo. The

thought occurred to Miltiades that, since all human means at his

command had proved inadequate to accomplish his end, he might,

perhaps, through this captive priestess, obtain some superhuman aid.

As she had been in the service of a Parian temple, she would naturally

have an influence with the divinities of the place, or, at least, she

would be acquainted with the proper means of propitiating their favor.

Miltiades, accordingly, held a private interview with Timo, and asked

her what he should do to propitiate the divinities of Paros so far as

to enable him to gain possession of the city. She replied that she

could easily point out the way, if he would but follow her

instructions. Miltiades, overjoyed, promised readily that he would do

so. She then gave him her instructions secretly. What they were is not

known, except so far as they were revealed by the occurrences that

followed.

There was a temple consecrated to the goddess Ceres near to the city,

and so connected with it, it seems, as to be in some measure included

within the defenses. The approach to this temple was guarded by a

palisade. There were, however, gates which afforded access, except

when they were fastened from within. Miltiades, in obedience to Timo's

instructions, went privately, in the night, perhaps, and with very

few attendants, to this temple. He attempted to enter by the gates,

which he had expected, it seems, to find open. They were, however,

fastened against him. He then undertook to scale the palisade. He

succeeded in doing this, not, however, without difficulty, and then

advanced toward the temple, in obedience to the instructions which he

had received from Timo. The account states that the act, whatever it

was, that Timo had directed him to perform, instead of being, as he

supposed, a means of propitiating the favor of the divinity, was

sacrilegious and impious; and Miltiades, as he approached the temple,

was struck suddenly with a mysterious and dreadful horror of mind,

which wholly overwhelmed him. Rendered almost insane by this

supernatural remorse and terror, he turned to fly. He reached the

palisade, and, in endeavoring to climb over it, his precipitation and

haste caused him to fall. His attendants ran to take him up. He was

helpless and in great pain. They found he had dislocated a joint in

one of his limbs. He received, of course, every possible attention;

but, instead of recovering from the injury, he found that the

consequences of it became more and more serious every day. In a word,

the great conqueror of the Persians was now wholly overthrown, and lay

moaning on his couch as helpless as a child.

He soon determined to abandon the siege of Paros and return to Athens.

He had been about a month upon the island, and had laid waste the

rural districts, but, as the city had made good its defense against

him, he returned without any of the rich spoil which he had promised.

The disappointment which the people of Athens experienced on his

arrival, turned soon into a feeling of hostility against the author of

the calamity. Miltiades found that the fame and honor which he had

gained at Marathon were gone. They had been lost almost as suddenly as

they had been acquired. The rivals and enemies who had been silenced

by his former success were now brought out and made clamorous against

him by his present failure. They attributed the failure to his own

mismanagement of the expedition, and one orator, at length, advanced

articles of impeachment against him, on a charge of having been bribed

by the Persians to make his siege of Paros only a feint. Miltiades

could not defend himself from these criminations, for he was lying, at

the time, in utter helplessness, upon his couch of pain. The

dislocation of the limb had ended in an open wound, which at length,

having resisted all the attempts of the physicians to stop its

progress, had begun to mortify, and the life of the sufferer was fast

ebbing away. His son Cimon did all in his power to save his father

from both the dangers that threatened him. He defended his character

in the public tribunals, and he watched over his person in the cell in

the prison. These filial efforts were, however, in both cases

unavailing. Miltiades was condemned by the tribunal, and he died of

his wound.

The penalty exacted of him by the sentence was a very heavy fine. The

sum demanded was the amount which the expedition to Paros had cost the

city, and which, as it had been lost through the agency of Miltiades,

it was adjudged that he should refund. This sentence, as well as the

treatment in general which Miltiades received from his countrymen, has

been since considered by mankind as very unjust and cruel. It was,

however, only following out, somewhat rigidly, it is true, the

essential terms and conditions of a military career. It results from

principles inherent in the very nature of war, that we are never to

look for the ascendency of justice and humanity in any thing

pertaining to it. It is always power, and not right, that determines

possession; it is success, not merit, that gains honors and rewards;

and they who assent to the genius and spirit of military rule thus

far, must not complain if they find that, on the same principle, it is

failure and not crime which brings condemnation and destruction.

When Miltiades was dead, Cimon found that he could not receive his

father's body for honorable interment unless he paid the fine. He had

no means, himself, of doing this. He succeeded, however, at length, in

raising the amount, by soliciting contributions from the family

friends of his father. He paid the fine into the city treasury, and

then the body of the hero was deposited in its long home.

The Parians were at first greatly incensed against the priestess Timo,

as it seemed to them that she had intended to betray the city to

Miltiades. They wished to put her to death, but they did not dare to

do it. It might be considered an impious sacrilege to punish a

priestess. They accordingly sent to the oracle at Delphi to state the

circumstances of the case, and to inquire if they might lawfully put

the priestess to death. She had been guilty, they said, of pointing

out to an enemy the mode by which he might gain possession of their

city; and, what was worse, she had, in doing so, attempted to admit

him to those solemn scenes and mysteries in the temple which it was

not lawful for any man to behold. The oracle replied that the

priestess must not be punished, for she had done no wrong. It had been

decreed by the gods that Miltiades should be destroyed, and Timo had

been employed by them as the involuntary instrument of conducting him

to his fate. The people of Paros acquiesced in this decision, and Timo

was set free.

* * * * *

But to return to Darius. His desire to subdue the Greeks and to add

their country to his dominions, and his determination to accomplish

his purpose, were increased and strengthened, not diminished, by the

repulse which his army had met with at the first invasion. He was

greatly incensed against the Athenians, as if he considered their

courage and energy in defending their country an audacious outrage

against himself, and a crime. He resolved to organize a new

expedition, still greater and more powerful than the other. Of this

armament he determined to take the command himself in person, and to

make the preparations for it on a scale of such magnitude as that the

expedition should be worthy to be led by the great sovereign of half

the world. He accordingly transmitted orders to all the peoples,

nations, languages, and realms, in all his dominions, to raise their

respective quotas of troops, horses, ships, and munitions of war, and

prepare to assemble at such place of rendezvous as he should designate

when all should be ready.

Some years elapsed before these arrangements were matured, and when at

last the time seemed to have arrived for carrying his plans into

effect, he deemed it necessary, before he commenced his march, to

settle the succession of his kingdom; for he had several sons, who

might each claim the throne, and involve the empire in disastrous

civil wars in attempting to enforce their claims, in case he should

never return. The historians say that there was a law of Persia

forbidding the sovereign to leave the realm without previously fixing

upon a successor. It is difficult to see, however, by what power or

authority such a law could have been enacted, or to believe that

monarchs like Darius would recognize an abstract obligation to law of

any kind, in respect to their own political action. There is a

species of law regulating the ordinary dealings between man and man,

that springs up in all communities, whether savage or civilized, from

custom, and from the action of judicial tribunals, which the most

despotic and absolute sovereigns feel themselves bound, so far as

relates to the private affairs of their subjects, to respect and

uphold; but, in regard to their own personal and governmental acts and

measures, they very seldom know any other authority than the impulses

of their own sovereign will.

Darius had several sons, among whom there were two who claimed the

right to succeed their father on the throne. One was the oldest son of

a wife whom Darius had married before he became king. His name was

Artobazanes. The other was the son of Atossa, the daughter of Cyrus,

whom Darius had married _after_ his accession to the throne. His name

was Xerxes. Artobazanes claimed that he was entitled to be his

father's heir, since he was his oldest son. Xerxes, on the other hand,

maintained that, at the period of the birth of Artobazanes, Darius was

not a king. He was then in a private station, and sons could properly

inherit only what their fathers possessed at the time when they were

born. He himself, on the other hand, was the oldest son which his

father had had, _being a king_, and he was, consequently, the true

inheritor of the kingdom. Besides, being the son of Atossa, he was the

grandson of Cyrus, and the hereditary rights, therefore, of that great

founder of the empire had descended to him.

Darius decided the question in favor of Xerxes, and then made

arrangements for commencing his march, with a mind full of the elation

and pride which were awakened by the grandeur of his position and the

magnificence of his schemes. These schemes, however, he did not live

to execute. He suddenly fell sick and died, just as he was ready to

set out upon his expedition, and Xerxes, his son, reigned in his

stead.

Xerxes immediately took command of the vast preparations which his

father had made, and went on with the prosecution of the enterprise.

The expedition which followed deserves, probably, in respect to the

numbers engaged in it, the distance which it traversed, the

immenseness of the expenses involved, and the magnitude of its

results, to be considered the greatest military undertaking which

human ambition and power have ever attempted to effect. The narrative,

however, both of its splendid adventures and of its ultimate fate,

belongs to the history of Xerxes.

The greatness of Darius was the greatness of position and not of

character. He was the absolute sovereign of nearly half the world,

and, as such, was held up very conspicuously to the attention of

mankind, who gaze with a strong feeling of admiration and awe upon

these vast elevations of power, as they do upon the summits of

mountains, simply because they are high. Darius performed no great

exploit, and he accomplished no great object while he lived; and he

did not even leave behind him any strong impressions of personal

character. There is in his history, and in the position which he

occupies in the minds of men, greatness without dignity, success

without merit, vast and long-continued power without effects

accomplished or objects gained, and universal and perpetual renown

without honor or applause. The world admire Caesar, Hannibal,

Alexander, Alfred, and Napoleon for the deeds which they performed.

They admire Darius only on account of the elevation on which he stood.

In the same lofty position, they would have admired, probably, just as

much, the very horse whose neighing placed him there.

THE END.

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

1. Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors, and to

ensure consistent spelling and punctuation in this etext; otherwise,

every effort has been made to remain true to the original book.

2. The chapter summaries in this text were originally published as

banners in the page headers, and have been moved to beginning of the

chapter for the reader's convenience.

Darius the Great Makers of History · 第 12 / 12 章