Part 2

The Greeks at Thermopylæ had by this time received warning of what had happened. The soothsayer attached to the force is said to have read in the victims which he examined a prognostic of their fate. More definite information came from scouts who had been out on the hills, and who now came hurrying into the camp with the news. A council of war was hastily held. It could not agree, but the result was that the majority of the contingents retreated. Whether they did this with or without the orders of Leonidas is not certain. It is one of the matters about which it is almost impossible to arrive at the truth. Herodotus thinks that they were ordered to retire by Leonidas because he saw that they were unwilling to stay. This has a look of probability. As for Leonidas himself and his Spartans, they elected to stay. The inflexible military honour of their commonwealth forbade retreat. The seven hundred Thespians refused to depart, and must be allowed the glory of a still more heroic courage.[1] The Theban contingent was detained against its will. The soothsayer Megistias--his name ought to be preserved no less carefully than that of the traitor Ephialtes--refused to depart, though being not a Spartan, but an Acamanian by birth, he might have done so without discredit, but he sent away his only son. The name of the Thespian leader ought also to have its place on the roll of honour. It was Demophilus.

In the forenoon the Persians began a double attack, in front and in rear. They had seen such proofs of Greek prowess that the men had to be driven into battle by the whip. As for the Greeks, they changed their tactics. Leaving the pass of the Hot Springs and the wall, they advanced into the open space. Hope of escape or victory had been given up. They would fight where they could sell their lives most dearly. And dearly did they sell them. Crowds of the Persians fell; many were trampled under foot by their comrades; many more were thrust into the marsh that bordered the road on the side of the sea. Among the slain were two brothers of the king. The Spartans and Thespians fought till their spears were broken. Leonidas seems to have fallen early in the day, and there was a furious struggle for the possession of his body. Four times did the barbarians carry it off, and four times was it recovered. As the day drew on the Immortals came upon the scene. Aware of their approach, the Greeks retreated to the pass and prolonged their resistance to the very uttermost. When their weapons failed them they used their hands and even their teeth. But the Persians now surrounded them and showered arrows and all kinds of missiles upon them. They perished to a man. One more name from among the three hundred Spartans must be preserved--Dieneces, who seems to have been a wit as well as a warrior. When a man of Trachis told him that the Persians were so numerous that their arrows would darken the sun, "'Tis well," he replied, "stranger; then we shall fight in the shade." One of the contingent was absent. He and a comrade had been lying sick of ophthalmia at a neighbouring village. They could not agree as to what should be done. One buckled on his armour and bade his attendant helot lead him--for he could not see--to the battlefield. The helot did so, and then turned and fled. His master plunged into the thick of the fight and fell. The other sick man returned to Sparta. There no one would give him light to kindle his fire, or speak to him. He wiped away the reproach by falling, after prodigies of valour, at Platæa.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: Canon Rawlinson does not show himself as acute as usual when he suggests that this splendid resolve of the Thespians was due to an ambition of dispossessing Thebes from the headship of the Bœotian confederacy. Mr. Grote's remark that they knew that they must be left homeless is more to the point.]

III

IN THE STRAITS

While the army of the allied Greeks was holding the pass of Thermopylæ, their fleet occupied Artemisium. This was a promontory at the northern end of the island of Eubœa, a small stretch of coast on either side of the actual cape being known by the same name. The Persian attack was being made both by land and sea, and the Greek plan of defence was to check it at two points which were as nearly as possible in a line.

Both positions were liable to be turned. The danger at Artemisium was even greater than at Thermopylæ, for there was nothing to prevent the Persian fleet from sailing down the east coast of Eubœa. Indeed we shall see that this was done, though, as it turned out, without any ill result to the Greeks. It is clear that the officers in command of the fleet were quite as uneasy as some of the army leaders at Thermopylæ, nor was there any one who could exercise the control that Leonidas, in virtue of his commanding personality and his rank as a Spartan king, exercised over the allies.

An event of no great importance turned this uneasiness into panic. Two out of three ships which had been detached to keep a look out were captured by an advanced Persian squadron of ten ships. In consequence of this disaster, the fleet hastily retreated some fifty miles to the south to a spot where the channel between the mainland and Eubœa is at its narrowest. It would probably have gone still further south but for the heavy loss which the Persian fleet suffered during a four days' storm. No less than four hundred ships were destroyed, and with them an uncounted multitude of men. The Greeks were so encouraged by the loss which had befallen the enemy, that they returned in all haste and took up their former station. Hence the battle of Artemisium.

The first incident was a Greek success. The Persian fleet took up its position in the great natural harbour which is now known as the Gulf of Volo. Fifteen ships belonging to it lagged so far behind the rest, that by the time they reached the south-eastern point of the gulf the main body had rounded it and were out of sight. But the Greek fleet was full in view; they mistook it for their own, sailed straight towards it, and were captured without a struggle. Notwithstanding this stroke of good fortune the Greek captains were full of fears. Even after the losses caused by the storm, the Persian fleet greatly outnumbered their own. They had two hundred and eighty ships, reckoning nine fifty-oars with the larger triremes or "three-bankers"; the Persians must have had more than twice as many. The question of retreat again came up, and seemed very likely to be decided in the affirmative. A different result was brought about by a proceeding curiously characteristic of Greek ways of acting and thinking. The people of Eubœa were in despair at the prospect of being deserted. It would be something, they thought, if they could secure a few days' grace in which to remove their portable property to a place of safety. They went to Eurybiades, the Spartan admiral, who was in supreme command, and begged him to postpone his departure for a short time. He refused the request. It would not, he said, be for the public interest. Then they went to Themistocles, the Athenian admiral. He was not the commander-in-chief, but he commanded the most numerous contingent, one hundred and twenty-seven ships, only thirteen short of the half. They offered him a splendid bribe of thirty talents (about £7,000 of our money) if he could procure for them the desired delay. Themistocles seems to have known the price of the men whom he had to buy. To Eurybiades he gave five talents, and the Spartan, to whom this sum probably seemed a fortune, changed his views about the public safety. The Corinthian commander, who had the most powerful squadron after that of Athens, had also to be bought. Themistocles dealt with him in the frankest way. "I will give you," he said, "more for staying than the Persians will give you for going." The Corinthian does not seem to have resented the suggestion that he was ready to be bribed by the enemies of his country, and accepted the two talents which Themistocles sent on board his ship. The Athenian kept the handsome balance in his own hands. We cannot say anything more for him than that he comes out of the transaction better than his colleagues. They believed that the better and safer course was to retreat. He, on the contrary, was convinced that the right policy was to stop and fight. But he never forgot his personal interests. In this case he made them harmonise; on other occasions his action was more doubtful. There is reason to think that, before the end of his career, he postponed the public good to his own.

The Persians, when they saw that the Greek fleet was still at Artemisium, had, it would seem, no thought but of how they might make sure of capturing the whole. They sent a squadron of two hundred ships to sail down the eastern coast of Eubœa. These were to take the Greek in the rear, the main body waiting till the arrival of the squadron had been signalled. Meanwhile the Greeks had received some encouraging intelligence. A Greek diver, named Scyllias,[2] who had been in the employ of the Persians, deserted to them. He described the damage that had been done by the storm, and also informed them about the squadron that had been sent round Eubœa. The first thought of the Greek admirals was to sail south, and meet this squadron. But on reflection, bolder counsels prevailed. Late in the afternoon they left their station, and sailed towards the hostile fleet. The Persians viewed the movement with astonishment, and the Asiatic Greeks with dismay, for though serving with the enemy, they wished well to their countrymen. The Greek ships were inferior, not only in numbers, but also in equipment, and they seemed to be rushing on destruction.

The Greeks began by assuming what seemed like a defensive position, forming a circle, with the sterns of their ships in close order, and the prows turned to the enemy. The enemy advanced to close with them, and then, at a concerted signal, the Greeks dashed at their opponents with such success that they captured thirty of their ships, the first prize falling, as indeed was fitting, to an Athenian ship. The Persians, recovered from the first surprise, began to hold their own better, and when night fell, the issue of the conflict was still doubtful. The captain of a ship from the island of Lemnos had the sagacity to see how the struggle would end, and deserted to the Greeks, receiving afterwards a handsome reward for his timely patriotism.

Again the "stars fought in their courses for Greece." That night there was a thunder-storm, with heavy rain and wind. The main body of the fleet did not suffer much material damage, but the crews were dismayed to see fragments of wrecks and bodies of the dead drifted in by the wind. These were, indeed, the tokens of a great disaster. The squadron that was sent round Eubœa had been driven on a lee shore and absolutely destroyed. On the morrow the Persians made no movement, but the Greeks repeated the tactics of the day before. The news of the disaster to the Persian squadron had reached them, and they had been joined by a reinforcement of Athenian ships. This gave them new courage besides increasing their strength. Before the close of the day they captured some Cilician ships.

On the third day the Persian commanders, made desperate by failure, for they served a master who exacted a cruel penalty for ill-success, moved forward to engage the enemy, the Greeks awaiting their attack. The order of the Persian attack was in the shape of a half-moon, and its object to outflank the enemy on either side. The Greeks accepted the challenge. The result was not decisive. The Greeks sunk and captured more ships than they themselves lost. But their own loss was serious. Of the Athenian fleet especially, more than half was so injured as to require repair. By this time, too, the position had ceased to have any strategic value. The pass of Thermopylæ had been forced by the Persians, and it was useless, therefore, to hold Artemisium. That night the Greek fleet retired southwards. Themistocles, before he went, caused to be engraved on a prominent rock an inscription which invited the Asiatic Greeks serving with the Persians to make common cause with their countrymen. "If these words," he reasoned with himself, "escape the knowledge of the king, they may bring these Greeks over to us; if they come to his knowledge, they will make him distrust them."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 2: Pausanias tells us that he saw at Delphi a statue of this Scyllias, which had been erected by the Amphictyonic Council. A statue of his daughter Hydna had formerly stood next to it, but had been carried off by Nero. The two were famous divers, and some marvellous legends had gathered about them. Pausanias was told that they had dragged away the anchors and moorings of the Persian ships during the storm, and so aggravated the disaster. Herodotus had heard a yet more marvellous story of how Scyllias had dived the whole distance, nearly ten miles, between the Persian station and the Greek, but adds characteristically, "My own opinion is that he made the passage in a boat."]

IV

THE WOODEN WALLS

The retreat of the Greek forces from Thermopylæ and Artemisium left Athens without defence. There had been a promise that an army of the allies should make a stand against the invaders in Bœotia. No attempt was made to keep it. The only plan of defence that commended itself to the Peloponnesian States was to fortify the Isthmus of Corinth--and all the states outside the Peloponnesus, Athens excepted, were either pro-Persian or indifferent. As Athens was unwalled, there was no question of defending it; the only thing that could be done was to save as much life and property as was possible. For this the time was short, and might have been shorter than it actually was, for the Athenians had six days in which to transport their belongings to a place of safety, though the distance to be traversed by the invaders was not more than ninety miles. All the women, children, and persons incapacitated by illness or old age were put on shipboard, and carried either to Trœzen, a friendly city in the peninsula of Argolis, which had some tie of kinship with Athens, to Ægina, which was but ten miles away, or to Salamis, which was even nearer. The Athenians begged the allies to remain in the neighbourhood till the work of transport was accomplished, and Salamis happened to be the most convenient spot for this purpose.

The whole fighting strength of Athens was now embarked in its fleet. Years before, Themistocles, with a sagacity and prescience that seem almost miraculous, had counselled his countrymen to spend all their available resources in building ships. And only a few months before, the oracle of Delphi had advised the Athenians to trust in their "wooden wall," a phrase which this same statesman had interpreted as meaning the ships. No one, we may believe, knew better what it meant, as he had probably suggested it. The time had now come to put this counsel into practice. Every able-bodied Athenian took service in the fleet, the wealthy aristocrats, known as the "knights," setting the examples by hanging up their bridles in the temple of Athené.

It had never been the intention of the officers in command of the allied fleet to give battle at Salamis. They thought of nothing but the safety of the Peloponnesus; possibly they believed that nothing more than this could be hoped for. But when the Athenians, compelled as they were to abandon their city, asked for their help in saving non-combatants and such property as could be removed, they could not refuse. And now the question presented itself--Where are we to meet the Persian fleet? The captains assembled in the ship of Eurybiades the Spartan, who was in chief command, and debated on what was to be done. The general opinion was that they should retire from Salamis, from which there would be great difficulty in escaping, if escape should become necessary, and give battle somewhere off the coast of the Peloponnesus. In the midst of the discussion a messenger arrived with the news that the Persians had overrun all Attica, and had taken by storm the citadel of Athens, which a few enthusiasts had insisted on defending. These tidings could not have taken any one by surprise, but the fact that one of the great cities of Greece had fallen into the hands of the barbarians produced a panic. Some of the captains left without waiting for the decision of the council, and, hurrying to their own squadrons, prepared to depart. Those who stayed resolved to retire to the Isthmus and make a stand there.

As Themistocles was returning to his ship from the council, he was met by a friend who, in bygone years, had been his instructor in philosophy. The new-comer, on hearing the decision at which the council had arrived, denounced it most emphatically. "It means ruin for Greece," he said. "The fleet will not remain together to fight; every contingent will steal away, hoping to protect its own country. Go and persuade Eurybiades to reconsider the question."

Themistocles went, and using every argument that he could think of, at last succeeded in making such an impression on Eurybiades that he consented to summon another council. Of course it was the etiquette for the commander-in-chief to state the business which they had met to discuss, but Themistocles, who saw that it was a matter of life and death, could not help urging his case, without waiting for the president of the council. Adeimantus, of Corinth, angrily interrupted him. "Themistocles," he said, "at the Games, they who start too soon are scourged." "True," replied the Athenian, "but they who start too late are not crowned." He then addressed the council in a tone of studied mildness and conciliation. He said nothing about the probability that the fleet would be broken up by a general desertion--such an argument would have been affront--but he urged that to fight at Salamis would not be to risk everything on the issue of one battle. To retreat would be to leave all northern Greece at the mercy of the Persians, while a defeat at the Isthmus would mean the loss of the Peloponnesus itself. As for the Athenians, they would loyally abide by any decision to which the allies might come.

Adeimantus, enraged at the Athenian's persistence, interrupted him with the remark that a man who had no country had no right to speak, and even appealed to Eurybiades to impose silence upon him. Themistocles then saw that it was time to assert himself. "With two hundred ships fully manned and armed we have," he said, turning to Adeimantus, "as good a country as any man here, for what state could resist us should we choose to attack it?" Then he addressed himself to Eurybiades. "Play the man and all will be well. All depends upon our ships. If you will not stay here and fight, we will take our families on board and sail for Italy, where the gods have provided us a home. Without us, what will you do?"

To this threat there was no answer. The council resolved to stay and fight.

But the matter was not really settled. The Peloponnesian contingents were determined, in the last resort, to disobey their chief, and Themistocles was aware of their determination. Only one course remained for him, and it required the courage of despair to take it. If the allies would not stay at Salamis of their own free will, they must do it by compulsion. He sent a trusted slave to the Persian admiral with this message: "The Athenian commander is a well-wisher to the King, and he informs you that the Greeks are seized with fear, and are about to retreat from Salamis. It is for you to hinder their flight." A more daring stratagem was never put into execution. Not the least strange circumstance about it is the fact that, years after, when Themistocles had fallen into disgrace at home, he successfully claimed as a service to the Persian king that he had given him the chance of destroying the whole of the Greek fleet at one blow.

The Persian commanders seem not to have suspected the good faith of the communication thus received, and at once set about closing in the Greek ships. The town of Salamis was built in a little bay on the eastern side of the island, the distance across to the mainland of Attica being about two miles. The Greek fleet was drawn up, in what may be described as the shape of a bow loosely strung, in front of the town; the Persian ships were ranged along the opposite, _i.e._, the Attic shore. Both to the north and to the south the channel narrowed, being less than a mile across. The Persians now extended their line northwards till it touched the shore of the island, and southwards till it reached an uninhabited island called Psyttaleia. On this island they landed a body of troops who were to help the crews of any of their own ships that might be damaged, and slaughter any Greek soldiers or sailors who might be in a similar plight.

While these preparations were going on--and they lasted nearly through the night--the Greek leaders still hotly debated the question of going or staying. An unexpected end was put to the controversy. The chief opponent of Themistocles in Athenian politics was Aristides. He had been banished, and, at the instance of his successful rival, recalled from banishment when the danger of a Persian invasion became imminent. He now came to join his countrymen, and brought startling tidings with him. He had come from the island of Ægina, which lay some twelve miles to the south of Salamis, and his ship had narrowly escaped capture in making its way into the bay of Salamis; only the darkness had made it possible to do so. Themistocles was fetched out from the council to hear the tidings. "I hope," said Aristides, "that always, and now especially, our strife will be who may do his best service to his country. As for the question of going or staying, it matters nothing whether the Peloponnesians talk much or little. Go they cannot. We are enclosed on every side. This I have seen with my own eyes."

"This is good news," replied Themistocles, "for the Persians have done exactly what I wished. Our men, who would not fight of their own free will, will now be made to fight." And he told him of what he had done. "And now go and tell them. If I was to say it, they would not believe me."