Front matter (continued 3)

The situation of the Spartans was now similar to that of their ancestors when they made their last stand at Thermopylae. They were attacked in front and rear, and hemmed in on both sides by the natural difficulties of the place. In their weak and exhausted condition it would have been an easy task to make an end of them. But the great object of Cleon and Demosthenes was to take them alive. They therefore suspended the attack, and sent a herald, and summoned them to lay down their arms. When they heard the proclamation, most of them lowered their shields, and waved their hands in the air, to show that they had dropped their weapons. The Athenian generals then entered into a parley with Styphon the third in command of the Spartans; for Epitadas, the chief officer, was slain, and Hippagretus, the second, had been left for dead on the field. Styphon requested permission to communicate with the Spartan authorities on the mainland, and ask what he and his comrades were to do; and the Athenian commanders sent one of their own men to carry the message. Having heard his report, the Spartan magistrates sent a herald to see how matters stood; and after more than one messenger had passed to and fro between their camp and the island, they sent their final instructions, conveyed in these words "The Spartans bid you to decide for yourselves, but to do nothing dishonourable."

Fifty years before, these wounded and weary men would have needed no instructions to tell them their duty. According to the ancient tradition of Sparta they had but one course open to them—to die at their posts. But the lapse of time had softened the stern fibre of the Spartan character; and the broken remnant now brought to bay in Sphacteria interpreted the ambiguous mandate in their own favour, and surrendered themselves and their arms.

The number of the prisoners was two hundred and ninety-two, of whom about a hundred and twenty were Spartans of pure descent, several of them belonging to the highest families in Sparta. They were distributed among the captains of the fleet for transportation to Athens. Dating from the first sea-fight, the siege had lasted altogether seventy-two days; and during seven weeks of this period they had subsisted on the casual supplies smuggled over by the blockade-runners from the mainland. Great was the joy at Athens when that costly freight was brought safely into the harbour of Peiraeus; and Cleon, whose bustling energy had really helped to precipitate a crisis, was the hero of the hour. He had promised to settle the business, one way or the other, within twenty days, and this promise, which had been laughed at as a piece of crazy vanity, was fulfilled to the letter. The whole merit of the performance, however, belonged to Demosthenes, who had planned the attack on Sphacteria with admirable sagacity, and led the operations from first to last.

The surrender of a picked troop of Spartan warriors caused a revolution of feeling throughout Greece. Hitherto it had been assumed as a matter of course that no Spartan soldier, in any circumstances, would yield to an enemy; but now more than a hundred Spartans had preferred life to honour. It was generally believed that the survivors were inferior in valour to those who had fallen; and some time afterwards one of the captives was asked this insulting question by one of the Athenian allies: "Your brave comrades were buried on the field, I suppose?" The Spartan's answer was couched in a riddle: "It would be a mighty clever spindle, [Footnote: Arrow.] which singled out the brave." His meaning was that the stones and arrows had dealt out death among his comrades without distinction.

CAMPAIGNS OF BRASIDAS IN THRACE

I

One advantage which accrued to the Athenians from the possession of the Spartan captives was the immunity from invasion. For if the Spartans prepared to make any movement against Attica, they could bring out their prisoners, and threaten to put them to death. And in other directions the future looked brighter than it had done for many years. They held Pylos, which was garrisoned by Messenian troops, and served as an open door, through which they could carry havoc over the whole western district of Laconia; and the occupation of Cythera, which was effected in the following year, gave them increased facility for harassing the commerce of Sparta, and making descents on her eastern coast.

Elated by these successes, the Athenians determined on a bolder flight, and forgetting the lessons of Pericles, thought of recovering the possessions which they had held on the mainland thirty years before. With this intention they planned an attack, which was to be carried out from three different points at once, on Boeotia. But the whole scheme proved a failure, and led to a severe defeat at Delium; and about the same time news arrived from Thrace which showed that the tide was turning, and should have warned them, if they were wise, to set bounds to their restless ambition.

Brasidas had long since recovered from the wounds received at Pylos. The deep humiliation of Sparta, now reduced to become a suppliant for peace, filled him with shame and sorrow, and in the eighth year of the war he formed the bold design of organizing a campaign against the coast-towns of Thrace, which were among the most important of the Athenian tributaries. Having obtained the necessary commission from Sparta, he collected a force of seventeen hundred heavy-armed infantry, and in the summer following the disaster at Sphacteria, turned his steps northward, and arrived without mishap at the borders of Thessaly. The Thessalians generally were then on friendly terms with Athens, and, apart from this, the passage of so large a force through their territory caused suspicion and alarm among the inhabitants. But Brasidas was a man of rare gifts: endowed with more than a full share of the typical Spartan virtues, he combined with these a graciousness of manner, and a winning eloquence, which made him an equal of the most accomplished Athenian. He had, moreover, friends among the powerful nobles of Thessaly, who undertook to guide him in safety to the Macedonian frontier. On reaching the river Enipeus, he found his passage barred by a Thessalian force, who seemed resolved to dispute his progress. His courteous demeanour, and fair words, disarmed their hostility, and he was allowed to pass. Fearing, however, a general rising of the natives against him, and urged to despatch by his guides, he pushed on by forced marches, and entering the passes of Olympus, descended into the southern plain of Macedonia, whose king Perdiccas, a shifty and treacherous barbarian, though nominally in alliance with Athens, favoured the enterprise of Brasidas.

Perdiccas had undertaken to provide pay for half the Spartan force, in return for help to be rendered against a rebel chieftain with whom he was at war. But Brasidas, whose main object was to raise a revolt among the Athenian allies, insisted on entering into negotiations with the rebel, and having patched up a truce, conducted his troops to the neighbourhood of Acanthus, a town on the eastern side of the Chalcidian peninsula, where there was a party discontented with the Athenian rule. In all the cities subject to Athens the general mass of the people were found loyal towards her, or, at the worst, disinclined for any change; and Acanthus was no exception. When Brasidas with his little army appeared before the walls the people at first refused him admission. But it was just before the vintage, and their grapes were hanging in ripe clusters, exposed to the hand of the spoiler; and so, to save their vineyards from ravage, they were at last induced to give him a hearing.

It was very important for Brasidas to secure the voluntary adherence of the Acanthians, whose action would have a powerful effect in determining the attitude of the other Chalcidians towards them. Accordingly he exerted all his skill as an orator, which was considerable, to allay their suspicions, and rouse their enthusiasm for the cause which he represented. That cause, he said, was the liberation of Greece from the tyranny of Athens. Let none of them suppose that he had come in the interests of a faction, to enslave the many to the few, or the few to the many. He had bound the authorities of Sparta by the most solemn oaths to respect the constitution of any state which enlisted under their banner. Freedom for Greeks!—that was the watchword which should find a response in every patriotic heart. After this fine burst of sentiment, Brasidas descended to a much lower level, and plainly intimated that if the Acanthians would not join him from these high motives, he would employ coercion, and proceed to ravage their estates, This last argument was decisive, and in order to save their valuable harvest from destruction, they agreed to admit Brasidas and his army into the town. Shortly afterwards their example was followed by Stagirus, one day to become famous as the birthplace of Aristotle.

It is melancholy to find a man of really pure and generous character like Brasidas lending himself to be the mouthpiece of Spartan hypocrisy. To him the sounding phrases and lofty professions which he uttered may have meant something: but in their essence they were mere hollow cant, intended to divert attention from the true issue, and drag a peaceful and prosperous community into the private quarrels of Sparta. So degraded was now the tone of politics in Greece, even among her best and ablest men.

II

On the banks of the Strymon, just where the river sweeps round in a sharp curve, west and east, the Athenians had founded, six years before the outbreak of the war, the colony of Amphipolis. It was a site which had long been coveted by the leaders of Greek colonial enterprise, being the key to the richest district in Thrace, with unrivalled facilities for commerce, and close to the gold-mines of Mount Pangeus. A previous attempt which was made by the Athenians to occupy the position had ended in ruinous disaster; but nearly thirty years later a second body of emigrants, led by Hagnon from Athens, met with much better success; Amphipolis now grew and prospered, and at the time which we have reached was the most important city in the Athenian empire.

The Amphipolitans had a bitter and jealous enemy in the neighbouring town of Argilus, situated a few miles to the west, on the road to Amphipolis; and ever since the appearance of Brasidas in Thrace the Argilians had been plotting against the tranquillity of their hated rival. Accordingly, when Brasidas, who had planned a surprise on Amphipolis, appeared before their gates, they welcomed him eagerly, and conducted him and his army to the bridge over the Strymon, which crossed the river just outside the southern end of the city wall. The defenders of the bridge, few in number, and taken unawares, were instantly cut to pieces; for Brasidas came upon them before daybreak, and the weather, which was wintry and inclement, favoured his design.

The farms and country-houses of the Amphipolitans, which occupied an extensive district on the eastern side of the city, now lay at the mercy of Brasidas, and after choosing a position for his camp, he began to overrun the country. For those who were responsible for the safety of Amphipolis had taken no precautions, though they knew that this daring and active enemy had been carrying on a campaign for many weeks in the adjacent parts of Thrace. Consequently, a good number of the citizens, who were attending to the business of their estates, fell into his hands, and it is not improbable that, if he had made a sudden assault on the city, he would have captured it on the same day.

There was a disaffected party in Amphipolis, who had planned the betrayal of the place, acting in concert with Argilus, through the agency of certain Argilian citizens residing in the town. The traitors now proposed that Brasidas and his army should be admitted, but they were overruled by the general voice of the people, and it was agreed that the Athenian Eucles, governor of Amphipolis, should send a message for help to another Athenian officer, who was commissioned to watch the interests of Athens in Thrace. That officer was Thucydides, the historian, from whose work the materials for the present narrative are taken. Thucydides was descended on his mother's side from the royal family of Thrace, [Footnote: Such, at least, is the highly probable conjecture of Classen.] and through this connexion he was the owner of valuable working rights in the gold-mines of Mount Pangaeus, and a man of great power and, influence in these districts. When the message arrived from Amphipolis, he was engaged in some business at Thasos, and postponing all other concerns he collected a small squadron of seven ships and hastened to the rescue with all speed. But Brasidas, who had received intelligence of his movements, was too quick for him. He had valuable hostages in the persons of those Amphipolitans who had been taken outside the walls. The population of Amphipolis consisted almost entirely of men of mixed or foreign descent, who were anxious about their properties, and in fear for their friends, while the few Athenian residents were alarmed for their own safety, having little hope of prompt succour. Taking advantage of this state of public feeling, the politic Spartan issued a proclamation, pledging him to respect the rights and property of all who chose to remain; while those who preferred to withdraw were allowed five days to take away their goods. This tempting offer produced the desired effect. It was in vain that the Athenian governor interposed his authority, and strove to uphold the imperial claims of Athens. The people threatened to rise in mutiny against him, and when the partisans of Brasidas, now grown bold, openly moved a resolution to accept his conditions, the proposal was carried, and the Spartan general marched unopposed into the town.

Late on the same day Thucydides sailed into the harbour of Eion, the port of Amphipolis, and learning that Brasidas was already in possession of the inland city, took all necessary precautions to provide against an immediate attack. He was only just in time; for on the very next day Brasidas carried his troops down the river on a flotilla of boats, and tried to establish himself in a strong position, commanding the mouth of the river, and at the same time sent a storming party to make an assault on the land side. But the attempt was frustrated, and Eion at least was saved to Athens.

The fall of Amphipolis, which occurred shortly after the crushing defeat at Delium, caused great consternation among the Athenians. Apart from the wound to their pride, they were deprived by this loss of a large portion of their revenue, and cut off from the principal source of their timber supply. And there were still further grounds for alarm. For Amphipolis was now an open door, through which the Spartans could send troops into eastern Thrace, and carry the war to the entrance of the Euxine. For a moment it seemed as if all their fears would be realized. The gentle manners of Brasidas—his fairness, modesty, and strict regard for the rights of all men—had won the hearts of the Athenian allies in Thrace, and secret agents were constantly arriving at his head-quarters on the Strymon, inviting him to come and help them to recover their liberty. He had skilfully appealed to the most deeply-rooted instinct of the Greek, the desire for unfettered action in his own city, free from all interference from outside. This instinct, long held in abeyance, first by the necessity for protection from Persia, and when that danger was removed, by the habits acquired under the mild rule of Athens, was now awakened into new life by the influence of the great warrior and accomplished statesman, whose watchword was "Liberty for Greeks!" The recent reverses of Athens had excited a feeling of contempt among her subjects, and led them greatly to under-estimate her real power; and Brasidas himself, by a not over-scrupulous perversion of facts, had been careful to encourage this belief. All these causes produced a burst of enthusiasm throughout Thrace, and if the Spartans had supported Brasidas with vigour, a general insurrection would have followed among the Athenian allies. But the authorities of Sparta were jealous of their brilliant officer, and their chief anxiety was to recover the prisoners taken at Sphacteria.

In the same winter the indefatigable Spartan effected the capture of Torone, a town situated on the second of the three headlands which project, like the prongs of a fork, from the peninsula of Chalcidice. As in the case of Amphipolis, Torone fell into his hands by treachery; but he had now made good his title as the champion of Greek independence, and early in the following spring the citizens of Scione, on the first or westernmost headland, invited him to come over and take command of their town. On receiving this welcome summons Brasidas lost no time, and crossed over by night in a skiff, which was convoyed by a trireme, so that if any hostile vessel appeared in sight, it might be engaged by the trireme, and leave him free to escape. He reached Scione in safety, and having convened a general assembly of the citizens, addressed them in flattering terms, praising their high courage and patriotic spirit. "You," he said, "have set a noble example to your oppressed brethren: isolated as you are, and cut off from all succour from the mainland, you have defied all perils, and thrown in your lot, for better or for worse, with the friends of liberty. Your gallantry and self-devotion has given you a just claim to the gratitude of Sparta and of all Greece." The revolt of Scione was indeed a daring defiance of the Athenian power, for since the capitulation of Potidaea, which occurred seven years before, the inhabitants had been in the position of islanders, exposed to the whole maritime power of Athens. For the moment, however, the people were carried away by a transport of enthusiasm, and little dreaming of the terrible vengeance which was to overtake them two years later, they greeted Brasidas as a deliverer, and vied with one another who should honour him most. He was publicly presented with a crown of gold, as the liberator of Greece; and in private houses he was wreathed with garlands, and surrounded with worship, like a victorious athlete.

But a few days before the defection of Scione all the ambitious schemes of Brasidas had been checkmated by the action of his own countrymen at home. For some time past negotiations had been in progress between Athens and Sparta; and since the battle of Delium, and the rapid successes of their great enemy in Thrace, the Athenians had been more disposed to come to terms. In this altered mood they agreed to make a truce for one year with Sparta, which would give time to arrange the conditions of a lasting peace, and leave them at leisure to repair the shattered fabric of their empire. Two commissioners, an Athenian and a Spartan, were at once despatched to announce the conclusion of the truce to Brasidas. They found him at Torone, preparing to set out a second time for the western peninsula, and continue his intrigues against the subjects of Athens. In the interview which followed a dispute arose between Brasidas and the commissioners, as to whether Scione should be admitted into the truce. Brasidas asserted that the city had joined the Spartan alliance before the truce was signed; but the Athenian commissioner loudly protested that the revolt occurred after the conclusion of the truce,—and such, indeed, was the fact. Brasidas, however, was bound in honour to defend the hapless community which had been drawn by his fatal influence into so fearful a peril; and in the existing confusion of the Greek calendar it was not easy to establish a date with perfect exactitude. Accordingly Brasidas refused to surrender Scione to the vengeance of Athens, and placed the town in a state of defence. Not content with this, he extended the same measures of protection to Mende, which revolted after the arrival of the commissioners. This was an open violation of the truce, and the Athenians, in great fury, immediately prepared to send a fleet against these audacious rebels, and passed a savage decree, condemning the whole adult male population of Scione to death.

III

During the following summer Mende was recovered by Nicias for the Athenians, Scione was closely invested, and Perdiccas, who had quarrelled with Brasidas, once more became an ally of Athens, and gave proof of his sincerity by preventing the passage of Spartan reinforcements to Thrace. The Athenians were thus left free to turn their attention to Amphipolis, and at the beginning of the tenth year of the war, the truce having now expired, Cleon was sent with a fleet of thirty ships to conduct the siege of this important place. That so weighty a charge should have been entrusted to hands so incompetent argues a degree of infatuation in the Athenians which is very hard to understand. On his voyage Cleon succeeded in retaking Torone by a sudden assault, and then proceeding northwards dropped anchor at Eion, where he remained inactive, after despatching messengers to Perdiccas, and to a friendly Thracian prince, to ask for reinforcements.

Meanwhile Brasidas, who some time before had returned to Amphipolis, was waiting to strike a blow at his unwarlike enemy. His own troops, though about equal in numbers to the force under Cleon, were far inferior in equipment and discipline; but he counted on some incautious movement on the part of the Athenian general, which would throw the picked infantry of Athens into disorder, and place them at a disadvantage. So he left Clearidas, a young Spartan, whom he had appointed governor of Amphipolis, in charge of the garrison, and taking with him fifteen hundred men occupied a position on the right bank of the river, where the ground rises abruptly to a considerable height, affording a wide view over the city to the country beyond, as far as Eion. From this point, which is called Cerdylium, he could watch the proceedings of the enemy, and still have ample time to rejoin Clearidas in Amphipolis, if, as he expected, Cleon should leave his defences and advance upon the town.

He had not long to wait. The Athenian soldiers stationed at Eion were chafing at their inaction, and mutinous speeches were heard on all sides. What a man was this Cleon, this cowardly braggart, under whom they were to take the field against the most daring and skilful leader in Greece! They had known what to expect from such a general, since the day when they sailed for Thrace. These murmurs reached the ears of Cleon, and he saw that something must be attempted, or his men would be totally demoralized. So he gave the order to march, and led his troops up the ridge of hills which slope down towards Amphipolis on the eastern side, where the town was defended by a single line of wall, reaching from the northern to the southern bend of the river. He was far from supposing that anyone would come out to attack him; he only wanted, he said, to take a good view of the place, and when his reinforcements arrived, he would surround the city on all sides, and carry it by assault. For his wonderful good fortune at Pylos had given him unbounded confidence in his powers as a strategist, and he thought that Amphipolis would prove a second Pylos, forgetting that here he had a Brasidas to deal with, and no Demosthenes to do the work for him. When he reached the top of the ascent, he called a halt, and took a leisurely survey of the wide sweep of country spread below him,—to the north, the broad, marshy waters of Lake Cercynitis, from which the river issues just above the town,—eastwards, the towering summit of Mount Pangaeus,—and on the other side, just beneath his feet, the devoted city, which now seemed cowering, silent and deserted, as if conscious of Cleon's eagle glance. The gates were closed, and not a man was to be seen on the battlements. "What a pity," remarked Cleon, "that we brought no siege-engines with us! We might have battered down the wall, and marched in at once,—there is none to oppose us."

So readily did this holiday general fall into the trap which Brasidas, with a just estimate of his capacity, had set for him. As soon as he saw that Cleon had started from Eion, the Spartan general left his post in Cerdylium, and led his men back into Amphipolis. Here he made such a disposition of his forces as to give the place that peaceful and innocent appearance which deceived Cleon's unpractised eye. Then he took up his station with a picked troop of a hundred and fifty hoplites at the southern gate of Amphipolis, leaving Clearidas in charge of the main body, and awaited a favourable moment to attack.

But these preparations could not be made without exciting some attention among the more experienced of the Athenian officers. They had seen Brasidas entering the city, and observed him offering sacrifice, as for battle, before the temple of Athene; and Cleon, who was standing, lost in his contemplations, some distance in advance of his forces, suddenly received the alarming intelligence that the enemy were on the point of making a sally. "The whole garrison is in motion," said the messenger, "and we have caught sight of the feet of many horses and men under the gates: evidently they mean to attack us." Thus rudely startled from his meditations, Cleon went to look for himself, and seeing that the messenger had spoken the truth he gave the order for a retreat in the direction of Eion. This movement should have begun from the left wing, but there was some delay in executing the order, and Cleon, who was in a great hurry to reach a place of safety, led the way with his own division, which, being on the right, ought to have closed the retreat. The consequence was that the whole Athenian army was thrown into confusion, and Brasidas, who was watching from his station at the gate, saw by the irregular motion of their spears and helmets that all discipline was at an end. "Now is our time," he cried to his men: "Open the gates! The day is ours." With these words he rushed out with his troops, and fell upon the Athenian centre; and at the same moment the main body under Clearidas poured out from the northern gate, and attacked them in the rear.

The effect of this sudden assault was to cut the Athenian army in half: the left wing, which was nearest to Eion, fled without striking a blow, but the right made a vigorous resistance, though abandoned by their cowardly general, who was cut down by a Thracian spearman as he tried to make good his escape. A far nobler name was also added to the death-roll of that fatal day: Brasidas, fighting at the head of his troop, received a mortal wound, and was carried, unobserved by the Athenians, into the city. He lived long enough to hear that his men had gained a decisive victory, and then passed away, the purest and the most heroic spirit among all those who played their part in this unhappy war. After his death he received divine honours at Amphipolis, and was worshipped as the second founder of the city.

THE HOLLOW PEACE

I

The negotiations for peace, begun in the previous year; had been interrupted by the brilliant successes of Brasidas, and the factious opposition of Cleon, and after their death the main obstacle to a pacific understanding was removed. The high hopes conceived by the Athenians after the capture of the Spartans at Pylos had been damped by their disastrous defeat at Delium, and by the revolt of their allies in Thrace; and, above all, they were anxious to recover Amphipolis. Still more depressed was the temper of the Spartans. They had entered on the war in a spirit of sanguine confidence, expecting to make an end of the conflict by a single invasion of Attica; and now, after ten years of fighting, their great rival remained almost untouched in the chief sources of her power. Their coasts were exposed to continual ravage by the Athenian fleets, and Pylos was still occupied by their bitter enemies, the Messenians, attracting all the discontented elements in Sparta, and keeping the Helots in a continual ferment. And finally a hundred and twenty of their noblest citizens were immured in the dungeons of Athens, and they were ready to make great sacrifices to procure their release.

Accordingly, in the winter after the battle of Amphipolis, negotiations were resumed, and early in the following spring a treaty of peace was concluded between Athens and Sparta, on the understanding that all places taken by force of arms should be restored, and all prisoners set at liberty. Such was the Peace of Nicias, named after its chief promoter, the former rival of Cleon, and now the leading politician at Athens. It was really a private agreement between Athens and Sparta, for the most important of the Spartan allies, who thought that their interests were neglected, refused to sign the treaty. Alarmed by this, the Spartans immediately concluded a second treaty with Athens, binding both sides to mutual aid and defence, in case their territories were attacked. The prisoners taken at Sphacteria were now restored, but owing to the bungling of Nicias, the Athenians failed to regain Amphipolis.

II

Six years elapsed after the conclusion of the Peace of Nicias, before war was again openly declared; but it was a peace only in name, and was broken by many acts of hostility on both sides. During this period the principal states of Greece were involved in a network of political intrigue, treaty following treaty, and alliance succeeding to alliance, for the most part with no result. To this statement, there is, however, one important exception. A year after the signing of the second treaty between Athens and Sparta, a coalition was formed, including Athens, Elis, and Mantinea, under the leadership of Argos; and in mentioning this event we have to usher on to the stage one of the most extraordinary characters in history. This was Alcibiades, a young Athenian noble, endowed with every advantage of mind, person, and fortune, whose fatal gifts, and lawless ambition, made him the evil genius of his country. His high birth, his wealth, his wit, and his wonderful beauty, attracted to him a host of flatterers, who fed his vanity with soft adulation, and led him to believe that nothing was too great for such powers as his. Like most of the brilliant young men of his day, he attached himself for a time to the philosopher Socrates, for whom he seems to have felt a warm admiration. But his connexion with that great teacher and thinker, though it served to sharpen his understanding, could not eradicate the effects of evil habit and example. His wilful, selfish, and despotic temper soon broke loose from that salutary restraint, and henceforth we find him pursuing a course of action which brought ruin on his people, and on himself a traitor's death and a dishonoured name.

Much irritation had been caused among the Athenians by the shifting and treacherous conduct of the Spartans, who had failed to redeem their sworn pledges, and had excited great suspicion at Athens by repeated intrigues with Argos, and with their own offended allies of the Peloponnesian League. Alcibiades had a private grudge against the Spartans, to whom he had made overtures of friendship and service at the time when the treaty was under discussion, only to be set aside as a profligate and frivolous youth, unfit to meddle with serious matters of state. He now placed himself at the head of the party hostile to Sparta, and it was not long before he had an opportunity of revenging the insult to his pride. He used all his influence to promote an alliance with Argos, the ancient enemy and rival of Sparta in Peloponnesus; and when envoys arrived from Sparta to remonstrate against this proceeding, and reassure the Athenians as to their intentions, he contrived by a masterpiece of low cunning to cover them with shame and contempt. When the envoys were introduced to the senate they declared that they had come with full powers to settle all differences, and Alcibiades feared that if they made the same statement to the general assembly of the citizens, they might induce the Athenians to renounce their alliance with Argos. So, after the senate had risen, he took the envoys aside, and with an air of great candour and friendliness warned them that they must conceal the extent of their powers when they appeared before the popular assembly. "You do not understand," he said, "how to deal with the mob of Athens; if you show your hand, they will force you into extravagant concessions. Leave the matter to me, and everything will turn out as you wish."

The simple Spartans fell into the snare. They were not at all startled by the proposal that they should eat their own words, for in dishonesty they were not behind Alcibiades himself, though they were no match for him in cunning. Being brought before the people, and asked whether they had come with full powers, they answered bluntly "No!" Great was the amazement at this flat contradiction of the avowal which they had made before the senate, and Alcibiades, giving voice to the general indignation, overwhelmed the astonished envoys with a torrent of invective and abuse. The Spartans were dumb-foundered by his perfidy, and looked helplessly at Nicias, the staunch friend and supporter of Sparta, whom they had forsaken for this shameless young reprobate. Nicias, who of course knew nothing of the trick, was utterly confounded by the double-dealing of the envoys, and could do nothing to relieve their embarrassment. The result was that the envoys were abruptly dismissed, and after a fruitless mission of Nicias to Sparta, which only served to lower his own reputation, the Athenians entered heart and soul into the Argive alliance.

III

We have seen how much the credit of Sparta had been injured in the eyes of Greece by the capture of her chosen warriors at Pylos, and by her subsequent behaviour during the negotiations which led to the peace of Nicias. Spartan valour was seen to be not above reproach, and the Peloponnesian allies had still better reason to complain of the hollowness of Spartan faith. The high reverence which had long been attached to the name of Sparta had given place to something like contempt, and the Eleans, who had an old grudge against her, took advantage of this feeling to exclude her citizens from taking public part in the Olympic festival, which was celebrated with great pomp and splendour in the second year of the peace. And the degradation of the proud Dorian city seemed to be complete, when a Spartan named Lichas, who had entered for the chariot-race under another name, was driven with blows from the racecourse. So deep was the abasement to which the great name of Sparta had now sunk.

The Spartans saw that a vigorous effort must be made, if they would recover their lost ascendancy; and two years later the opportunity occurred for which they were waiting. On the northern side of the Argolic peninsula lies the ancient city of Epidaurus, famous for its rich vineyards, and its great temple of Asclepius, [Footnote: Aesculapius.] the god of healing. For some time past, the Epidaurians, who were in alliance with Sparta, had been involved in a dispute, arising out of some obscure question of ritual, with Argos; and they were now in sore straits, being hard pressed by the whole weight of the Argive power, backed by the new confederacy. This was the pretext needed by the Spartans, and mustering their whole forces they marched, under the command of their king Agis, against Argos.

The Argives had received notice of the advance of Agis, and they immediately marched out to meet him, wishing to engage the Spartans before they had united with their allies from Corinth, Boeotia, and elsewhere, who were assembling in great force at Phlius. The two armies confronted each other for a moment at Methydrium, in Arcadia; but Agis succeeded in avoiding an engagement, and breaking up his camp under cover of darkness pushed on to Phlius. Thereupon the Argives, who were accompanied by their allies from Mantinea and Elis, returned in haste to Argos, and then, marching northwards, took up their position at Nemea, which commanded the ordinary route from Phlius to the Argive territory. But they were again outmanoeuvred by the skilful dispositions of Agis. Avoiding the road by Nemea, which led through a narrow and dangerous pass, he led his Spartans over the mountains and descended into the plain which surrounds the city of Argos. One contingent of his allies had orders to proceed in the same direction by another mountain-path, while the Boeotians, who numbered no less than ten thousand infantry, and five hundred cavalry, were directed to take the high road by Nemea; for Agis expected that by threatening the cultivated lands around Argos he would draw the Argives from their position, and bring them down in haste to the defence of their estates.

The plan was completely successful. As soon as the Argives learnt that Agis was ravaging their fields they set out with all speed towards Argos, and finding Agis engaged in the work of pillage, they drew up their forces, and offered battle. Their situation was in the highest degree perilous. In front of them, cutting them off from the city of Argos, was the flower of the Spartan army, reinforced by the troops of Tegea and Arcadia; on their right flank the mountain slopes swarmed with the infantry of Corinth and Phlius; and in the rear their retreat was cut off by the thronging masses of Boeotians, who were now pouring along the road from Nemea. They were fairly cut off, and seemed delivered over to destruction; nevertheless, such was the presumptuous confidence which possessed them, that they awaited eagerly the signal for battle, crying out that they had caught the Spartans in a trap.

Fortunately for them there were two men among their leaders who took a wiser view of the position; one of these was Alciphron, an official who represented the interests of Sparta at Argos, [Footnote: The Greek word is Proxenos,—a sort of consul.] and the other was Thrasyllus, one of the five generals. These two men entered into a parley with Agis, and by promising to satisfy the demands of Sparta induced him to grant a truce. Agis then drew off his forces, and returned by way of Nemea to Sparta; and the allies, much against their will, were compelled to follow his example. Loud were the murmurs among the confederates, and even among the Spartan soldiers, against Agis, who had thrown away this golden opportunity of humbling the pride of Argos, and brought dishonour on one of the finest armies that had ever been led into the field by a Grecian general. Strange to say, the Argives were not less indignant against the two men who had saved them from overwhelming disaster; and Thrasyllus, the general, narrowly escaped being stoned to death.

IV

The Argives thought themselves bound to abide by the conditions of the truce, though made without their consent; but shortly after the retreat of Agis, an Athenian force of a thousand hoplites and three hundred cavalry arrived at Argos, and Alcibiades, who was present in the character of ambassador, strongly urged the renewal of the campaign. His proposal was warmly supported by the Mantineans and Eleans, and they and the Athenians marched forthwith against Orchomenus in Arcadia, which was in alliance with Sparta; and the Argives, who had wavered at first, soon afterwards joined them. Orchomenus was gained over with little trouble, and then the Eleans were eager to proceed against Lepreum, a town in their alliance which had gone over to Sparta. But the Argives, Athenians, and Mantineans, insisted on attacking Tegea, where there was a party opposed to Sparta, by whose means they hoped to bring this powerful city, the ancient rival of Mantinea, to their side. Thereupon the Eleans abandoned the expedition, and went home in a rage, but the rest of the allies took up their quarters at Mantinea, and prepared to make an attack on Tegea.

The Spartans were in high anger against Agis for his unsoldier-like conduct in the recent campaign, and when they heard of the capitulation of Orchomenus their resentment rose to such a pitch that it was proposed to inflict on him a heavy fine, and raze his house to the ground. At his earnest entreaty they consented to reserve the sentence, and give him an opportunity of wiping out the stain on his honour; but as a mark of diminished confidence they appointed ten commissioners, without whose consent he was not allowed to lead an army out of the city.

They had just come to this decision when an urgent message arrived from Tegea, bidding them to bring help with all speed, or the town would be lost. The imminent peril startled the Spartans from their wonted apathy, and they set out at once in full force to the relief of Tegea. On reaching the borders of Arcadia they sent back the elder and younger men, amounting to a sixth part of the army, to serve as a garrison in Sparta; and at the same time couriers were despatched to summon their allies in Arcadia and central Greece. The Arcadians arrived in time to take part in the battle, but the Boeotians, Corinthians, and others, though they hastened to obey the order, were delayed by a long and difficult march, through the hostile territory of Argos.

Passing by Tegea, Agis entered the district of Mantinea, and having pitched his camp began to lay waste the country. Informed of his approach, the Argives and their allies marched out to meet him, and choosing a position on the slope of a hill, defended in front by rugged and broken ground, they drew up in order of battle. The Spartans, incited, doubtless, by the example of their king, who was eager to redeem his reputation, rushed impetuously to the assault; and they were already within a stone's-throw of the enemy when a Spartan veteran cried out to Agis: "Heal not ill with ill!" His meaning was that in Argos Agis had been too cold, and now he was too hot. Agis heard the warning voice, and his own good sense must have shown him how rashly he was acting; accordingly, at the very moment of encounter, he gave the word to retreat, and fell back to the neighbourhood of Tegea. At this place there was a copious head of water, which, when properly regulated, served to irrigate the fields of Tegea and Mantinea. The disposal of the water-supply was a constant source of dispute between the two rival cities; and Agis now prepared to turn the whole volume of the fountain towards Mantinea, expecting that the Mantineans, when they saw their fields threatened with inundation, would come down into the plain to hinder the mischief.

The Argives and their allies were dumb-foundered by the sudden disappearance of the Spartans; and when they had recovered from their astonishment, they waited impatiently for the order to pursue the runaways. As no such order was given, cries of "Treason!" arose in the ranks, and the generals were openly accused of having sold themselves to the enemy. The Spartans, it was asserted, had been allowed to escape, when they were fairly caught under the walls of Argos; and now the confederates had been betrayed a second time by their officers. Amid the general clamour the Argive commanders stood for a moment confounded and amazed; then recovering themselves they gave the word to advance, and led their forces down into the plain. Here they passed the night in the open field, and early next morning they stood to their arms, and prepared for an immediate attack.

Agis was not aware that the Argive generals had taken up a new position, and thinking that the confederates were still stationed on the hill, he gave up his scheme of diverting the water, and directed his march towards the place where he had first encamped. As they proceeded thus in marching order, and quite unprepared for any hostile movement, the Spartans suddenly found themselves face to face with the whole Argive army, drawn up in order of battle. For one instant it seemed as if a panic were about to spread through the Spartan ranks; then their wonderful discipline prevailed, and with all promptitude, but without flurry or confusion, the necessary orders were passed from the King to the commanders of divisions, from these again to the colonels, from the colonels to the captains, and from the captains down to the sergeants, [Footnote: I have thought it best to give the English titles, which of course have only a general correspondence with the Greek Polemarch, Lochagus, etc.] who in their turn had to see that the required movement was executed by the men under their command: for such was the regular gradation of authority and responsibility in the Spartan army. Thanks to this perfect organization, in a very few minutes every man was in his place and ready for battle.

On the left wing of the Spartan army were posted the Sciritae, hardy mountaineers from southern Arcadia; next to them stood the enfranchised Helots, who had served under Brasidas in Thrace, and others of the same race who had received the Spartan citizenship in reward for public service; then came the main body of the Spartans themselves, and after them the rest of the Arcadian allies; while the right wing was assigned by immemorial privilege to the Tegeans, with whom were a few picked Spartans. The cavalry, never a very strong part of the Spartan army, were posted on either flank.

On the other side the Mantineans held the place of honour on the right wing, because the engagement was fought in their territory; next in order were the Arcadian allies of Argos, and after them, more towards the centre, stood a picked troop of a thousand Argives, trained and equipped at the public expense; then followed the main body of the Argive troops, with the rest of their allies, the Athenians occupying the extreme left. As to the numbers engaged, nothing certain is known.

Some time was lost by the Argive army in delivering the customary harangues addressed by the generals of the several contingents to their men, and this enabled the Spartans to steady their ranks before the fighting began. They, on their side, men of war from their youth, had no need of set speeches to remind them of their duty; but pithy words of exhortation passed from man to man, and high and clear rose their national war-songs, thrilling them with the memories of their heroic past. Then the signal was given on both sides to charge, and the Argives and their allies rushed impetuously to the onset, while the Spartans advanced to meet them with even and deliberate pace, timed to the music of numerous pipers, who were stationed at regular intervals in their ranks.

The regular equipment of the Greek infantry soldier consisted, besides his helmet and body-armour, of shield and lance, and in advancing to battle he had always a tendency to diverge towards the right, from a natural wish to keep his shielded side towards the enemy. This divergence from the forward direction was begun by the man posted on the extreme right; his comrade on the left followed his example, and the deflection was continued along the whole line. The consequence was that when two armies came into action, the left wing on either side was greatly outflanked by the opponents' right; and the battle of Mantinea affords no exception to this rule, for not even Spartan discipline was able to counteract the overpowering instinct of self-preservation. Seeing that his left wing was on the point of being outflanked by the Mantineans, Agis signalled to the Sciritae and Brasideans to draw off in a lateral direction towards the left, in order to present an equal line to the right wing of the enemy. The order was executed, and to fill up the gap thus produced on the left of his own centre, Agis ordered the Spartan officers commanding on his right wing to bring up their men and occupy the vacant space. They, however, flatly refused to obey the order, and consequently the Sciritae and Brasideans were assailed in front and on both flanks by overwhelming numbers, and driven back with great loss to their camp.

So completely were the Spartans out-manoeuvred and worsted in tactics, through the blunders of their general, and the cowardice of his subordinates. But in this terrible crisis they showed what native valour, aided by life-long discipline, can do. Leaving a victorious enemy in their rear, they advanced without flinching against the opposing centre, where the main body of the Argives were posted, with the troops of Orneae and Cleonaea supporting them on the left. Then it was seen that neither the courage of the Spartans, nor the terror of their name, had diminished with the lapse of time; for when the confederate troops found themselves face to face with the renowned warrior of the Eurotas, they turned and fled, almost without striking a blow, and trampling their comrades under foot, in their haste to avoid the thrust of the Spartan lances. The Athenians on the left wing were now in great danger; for the charge of the troops of Agis had cut them off from the centre, and they were attacked on the other flank by the Tegeans and Spartans. They were saved from immediate destruction by the exertions of their own cavalry, and presently found themselves at liberty to retire from the field; for Agis, having completed the rout of the main body, called off his men, and went to the relief of his own left. The Mantineans and the Argive Thousand made no effort to retrieve the fortunes of the day, but gave way before the first onset of the Spartans, and joined the flight of their comrades. The Mantineans suffered severely in their retreat, but of the Argives only a few were slain.

Such was the battle of Mantinea, which completely restored the military fame of the Spartans, and blotted out the reproach of cowardice and sloth which for some years past had rested on their name.

VI

One incident remains to be recorded, before we proceed to the crowning catastrophe of our great historical drama. The Athenians, it should be observed, were still nominally at peace with Sparta, and if they had been wise they would have taken the opportunity of this respite from hostilities to recover Amphipolis, and consolidate their empire in Thrace. Instead of this, they looked around for fresh conquests, and fixed their eyes on the little island of Melos, belonging to the Cyclad group, which had been colonized in very early times from Sparta.

The Melians had not joined the Confederacy of Delos, and they might therefore be reproached for sharing the protection of Athens without making any return. Beyond this the Athenians had no ground of complaint against them, for they had taken no part in the Peloponnesian War, but had remained quietly at home, occupied with their own affairs. But Athens claimed the haughty title of mistress of the sea, and pretended to regard the neutrality of one insignificant island as an open defiance of her power. Ten years before an Athenian fleet had been sent under Nicias to reduce the refractory Melians to subjection; but the attempt was unsuccessful, and Nicias withdrew, after having ravaged the outlying districts. Being now more at leisure, the Athenians resolved, in the mere wantonness of power, that Melos should only be suffered to exist as a dependency of Athens, and thirty triremes sailed from the harbour of Peiraeus to carry out the arbitrary decree.

On their arrival at Melos the Athenian admirals sent envoys into the town, to summon the inhabitants to surrender. The envoys were invited to a private conference with the chief men of the island; and between the representatives of Athens and the Melian nobles there ensued an extraordinary dialogue, which is given at great length by the historian, and is commonly known as the Melian Debate. We cannot suppose that the arguments here placed by Thucydides in the mouth of the Athenian speaker were really uttered as set down by that writer. Such a paradox of iniquity, such a shameless insult to the general conscience of humanity, might have been employed by Plato, in exposing the vicious teaching of the Sophists, or by Aristophanes in the full riot of his satire: but the total abnegation of principle here implied could never have been openly avowed by a responsible agent, speaking for the most polished community in Greece. Even the worst criminals seek to give some specious colour to their villainy; and the condemned felon, who will face death without a tremor, shudders at the cry of execration which greets his appearance at the scaffold. So hard it is, even for the most depraved, to stifle the last embers of the moral sense. We cannot suppose, then, that an educated Athenian of the fifth century would publicly have claimed for his state the right of rapine and murder. For this is the line of argument pursued by the representative of Athens in the Melian Debate. The substance of what he says may briefly be stated as follows "You are weak—we are strong; Melos is a paltry island, Athens is queen of the Aegaean, and the existence of an independent city in these waters is an insult to her empire. Let us waste no time in discussions about abstract law and right. For the mighty there is but one law—to get what they can, and to keep it; and the weak have no rights, except by the sufferance of the strong. This rule of conduct we know to be universal among men, and we believe that the gods themselves are governed by it. [1] To sum up the whole case in one word: you must yield or perish."

It was in vain that the unhappy Melians tried to argue the question from a higher standpoint; in vain they warned the Athenians that they themselves might one day stand before the bar of justice, and plead for their existence. They were brought back relentlessly to the grim alternative-submission, or extermination. At length this strange controversy came to an end, and after one final hint, of fearful significance, the Athenian envoys withdrew, leaving the Melians to consider their answer. The brave islanders were not long in coming to their decision: they would not, they said, consent to enslave a city which had maintained its liberty for seven hundred years; they put their trust in divine justice, and in their kinsmen the Spartans, and were resolved to resist to the last.

On receiving this answer the Athenian commanders at once laid siege to Melos, and the doomed city was soon closely blockaded by sea and land. The Melians made a gallant defence, and twice succeeded in breaking through the lines of the besiegers, and conveying supplies into the town. But presently reinforcements arrived from Athens, and the Melians were confined within their walls. All hope of succour from Sparta had vanished, food began to fail, and treason was at work among the garrison. Thus driven to extremity, the Melians surrendered at discretion. Then the Athenians showed that their threats had not been idly uttered. All the men of military age in Melos were put to death, the women and children were sold into slavery, and the land was distributed among Athenian settlers.

In the fifth year of the war, after the capitulation of Mytilene, a thousand of the inhabitants had been butchered in cold blood; and this sentence, which seems so cruel to us, was regarded by the Athenians as an act of mercy. Six years later, the decree which had originally been passed against Mytilene, was actually executed on Scione, which had revolted at the instigation of Brasidas. In this act of savage retribution, Athens still remained within the limits of Greek international law, which placed the inhabitants of a revolted city at the mercy of their conquerors. But the case of Melos was different, for that island had never been included in the Athenian alliance, and the Melians had done nothing to provoke an attack. Thus the three names, Mytilene, Scione, and Melos, mark an ascending scale of barbarity, culminating in a massacre which, even in the eyes of Greeks, was an atrocious crime. Athens had now offended beyond forgiveness, giving colour to the accusations of her worst enemies, and heaping up vengeance for the days to come.

THE ATHENIANS IN SICILY

I

The Peloponnesian War may be conveniently divided into four chief periods. The first of these periods lasted for ten years, down to the peace of Nicias. The second extends from the peace of Nicias to the massacre of Melos. In the third, the scene of war was shifted from Greece to Sicily, and it was there that the Athenian power really received its death-blow. The fourth and final period begins after the overthrow of the Athenians at Syracuse, and ends, nine years afterwards, with their final defeat at Aegospotami, and the downfall of the Athenian empire.

It is the third of these periods which will occupy our attention for the remainder of the present volume, and as the momentous events which we have to relate occurred entirely in Sicily, it is necessary to say something of the previous history of that great island. The connexion of the Greeks with Sicily begins in the latter half of the eighth century before Christ, when settlers from Chalcis in Euboea founded the city of Naxos on the north-eastern coast, under the shadow of Aetna. Naxos in its turn sent out colonists, who built the cities of Leontini and Catana, the former on an inland site, commanding the great plain which extends southwards from Aetna, the latter on the coast, in a line with the centre of the same plain. These were Ionic colonies, and we may close the list with the name of Messene [Footnote: Originally called Zancle.] founded twenty years later on the Sicilian side of the strait which bears its name.

We have now to enumerate the principal Dorian cities. First among these in time, and by far the first in importance, was Syracuse, founded from Corinth a year after the settlement of Naxos. Between Syracuse and the mother-city there was a close and intimate tie of friendship, which remained unbroken throughout the course of Greek history. The original city was built on the island of Ortygia, but a new town afterwards arose on the low-lying coast of the mainland, and spread northwards till it covered the eastern part of the neighbouring heights. Ortygia was then converted into a peninsula by the construction of a causeway, connecting the new city with the old. Under the despotism of Gelo, who made himself master of the city in the early part of the fifth century, [Footnote: 485 B.C.] Syracuse rose to great power and splendour, and her territory extended over a great part of eastern Sicily. Gelo gained immortal renown by defeating a mighty host of Carthaginians, who invaded Sicily at the time when the confederate cities of old Greece were fighting for their existence against Xerxes and his great armada. After his death the power passed to his brother Hiero, whose victories in the Olympian and Pythian Games are commemorated in the Odes of Pindar. Hiero reigned for twelve years, and was succeeded by his brother Thrasybulus; but a year later the despotism was overthrown, and the government returned to a democracy.

A bare mention must suffice for Gela, founded from Rhodes and Crete nearly half a century after Syracuse, and the more famous Agrigentum, a colony from Gela, and next to Syracuse the greatest city in Sicily. These played no part in the struggle with Athens; but Selinus and Camarina, the two remaining Dorian cities of southern Sicily, will occupy an important place in the following narrative.

Thus the whole coast districts on southern and eastern Sicily were held by opulent and flourishing Greek cities. On the north was Himera, an Ionic colony, and the scene of Gelo's great victory over Carthage; while the western and north-western district was divided between the Phoenicians and the Elymi, a people of unknown origin, whose chief seats were at Eryx and Egesta. The inland parts were held, in the west, by the Sicans, who are believed to have come from Spain, and in the east by the Sicels, a people of Latin race, who gave their name to the island.

II

Since the fourth year of the Peloponnesian War, Athens had been meddling in the affairs of Sicily, under pretence of aiding the Ionian cities, who dreaded the encroaching ambition of Syracuse. That these fears were not unfounded was proved when, a few years afterwards, the Syracusans expelled the commons of Leontini, and took possession of their territory. The Leontine exiles sought refuge at Athens, but their appeal for help remained for a time unanswered, as the Athenians were then fully occupied in Greece. But six years after the conclusion of the Peace of Nicias, an appeal came to Athens from a remote corner of Sicily, which stimulated the Leontine exiles to fresh efforts, and led to most important results.

Between the Greeks of Selinus and the Elymians of Egesta there was a long-standing quarrel, and in a war which had recently broken out the Egestaeans were reduced to severe straits by the combined forces of Selinus and Syracuse. In their distress they turned to Athens for help, and envoys were sent to plead their cause before the Athenian assembly. In aiding Egesta, argued the envoys, Athens would be serving her own interests; for if the Syracusans were not speedily checked in their aggressions, they would soon make themselves masters of the whole of Sicily, and in that case they could bring such an accession of strength to the enemies of Athens in Greece as to make them irresistible. They had good reason, therefore, to take sides against the enemies of Egesta, and the more so as the Egestaeans promised to defray all the expenses of the war.

The Athenians generally were inclined to take up the quarrel of Egesta, but as a measure of precaution it was decided to send agents of their own to make an inspection on the spot, and see whether the Egestaeans were as wealthy as they pretended. On their return to Athens these men reported that Egesta was possessed of fabulous riches. At every house where they had been entertained, the tables and the sideboards had been one blaze of gold and silver plate. The fact was that the Egestaeans had collected all the gold and silver vessels in the town, and others borrowed from the neighbouring cities, and by passing them on from house to house, wherever these important guests were invited, had contrived to make a great display. As an earnest of all this wealth, the Athenian commissioners brought back with them sixty talents of silver.

The smallness of this sum ought to have been sufficient to arouse the suspicions of the Athenians; but they were willing to be deceived, and they gave ready credence to reports of their commissioners. Voting in full assembly, they passed a decree that sixty ships should be sent to Sicily, under the command of Nicias, Alcibiades, and Lamachus. The fleet was first to be employed in helping Egesta, and when that contest had been brought to a successful issue the Leontines were to be restored to their homes; finally, the generals were empowered to act as might seem best in the interests of Athens. The real purpose of the enterprise is indicated in the last clause. Vague plans of conquest were floating before the minds of the Athenians, and at a time when their whole energies should have been employed to repair the breaches in their empire, they dreamed of founding a new dominion in the west.

Five days later the assembly met again to vote supplies and discuss any further details which remained to be settled. But Nicias determined to take the opportunity of reopening the whole question, wishing, if possible, to divert his countrymen from their purpose, and put an end to the expedition altogether. It was folly, he argued, to take up the cause of needy foreigners, and drain the resources of Athens for a distant and hazardous enterprise, when their subjects in Thrace were still in open revolt, and their enemies in Greece were on the watch to take them at a disadvantage. If they trusted in the treaty with Sparta, they would soon find how infirm was the ground of their confidence. That treaty had been forced upon the Spartans by their misfortunes, and they would be only too glad to repudiate it, which they could easily do, as many of the conditions were still under dispute. Moreover, the most powerful cities of the Peloponnesian League had refused to sign the treaty, and were ready, at the first hint from Sparta, to renew the war. Athens was beset with perils, which were enough to tax her strength to the utmost: and yet they talked of sailing to Sicily, and raising up a new host of enemies against her! Even if the expedition succeeded, they could never keep their hold on that vast and populous island, while, if it failed, they would be utterly ruined. As to the supposed danger from the ambition of Syracuse, that was mere idle talk. The schemes of conquest, with which the Egestaeans had tried to alarm the Athenians, would keep the Syracusans busy at home, and prevent them from meddling in the affairs of Greece. "Leave the Greeks of Sicily alone," said Nicias with true prophetic insight; "and they will not trouble you. Do not disturb the prestige which belongs to a distant and unfamiliar power. If they once learn to know you, they may learn to despise you."

Then fixing his eyes on Alcibiades, who was sitting surrounded by his own partisans, young profligates like himself, Nicias concluded thus: "There is another danger against which I would warn you, men of Athens—the danger of being led astray by the wild eloquence of unscrupulous politicians, who seek to dazzle you with visions of new empire, that they may rise to high command, and restore their own shattered fortunes. Yes, Athens is to pour out her blood and treasure, to provide young spendthrifts with the means of filling their racing-stables! Against the mad counsels of these desperate men I invoke the mature prudence of the elder members of this assembly, and call upon them to show by a unanimous vote that neither flattery nor taunts can induce them to sacrifice the true interests of Athens."

It must have been a severe ordeal for the young Alcibiades to sit and listen to this keen and bitter invective, which set in a glaring light the worst features in his character—his selfish ambition, his shameless life, his total want of principle, his vulgar ostentation. The last quality, so alien from the best traditions of Athenian character, had been conspicuously displayed only a few weeks before at the Olympic festival, where he had entered seven four-horsed cars for the chariot-race, and won the first, second, and fourth prizes. Every word of Nicias went home, galling him in his sorest point—his outrageous vanity; and hardly had the elder statesman concluded his speech, when he sprang to his feet, and burst without preface into a wild harangue, which is a remarkable piece of self-revelation, disclosing with perfect candour the inner motives of the man on whom, more than on any other, the future of Athens depended. He began by defending his barbaric extravagance, recently displayed at Olympia, which, as he pretended to believe, had covered his native city with glory, and spread the fame of Athenian wealth and power from one end of Greece to another. The lavish outlay, and haughty demeanour, which would be justly blamed in a common man, were right and proper in him, one of the elect spirits of the time, inspired with great aims, and treading the summits of public life. He had already shown what he could do in the highest regions of diplomacy, by raising a great coalition in Peloponnesus, which had faced the whole might of Sparta in the field, and struck terror into the enemies of Athens.

After this impudent defence of his own pernicious policy, which had led to the crushing defeat at Mantinea, and thus enabled the Spartans to restore their damaged reputation, Alcibiades proceeded to deal with the question of the day, and exerted all his sophistry to confirm the Athenians in their design of invading Sicily. That island, he asserted, was inhabited by a mixed population with no settled homes, and no common patriotic sentiment; and among these motley elements they would find plenty of adherents. The Siceliots [Footnote: Greeks of Sicily.] were poorly armed, ill-furnished with heavy infantry, and in constant danger from the hostile Sicels. The risk of attack from the Peloponnesians would not be increased by sending part of the Athenian fleet to Sicily: for Attica was in any case always exposed to invasion, and a sufficient force of ships would be left at home to keep command of the sea.

"We have no excuse, then," said Alcibiades in conclusion, "for breaking our word to the Egestaeans, and drawing back from this enterprise. Both honour and policy are pointing the way to Sicily. An empire like ours is an ever-expanding circle, which lives by growing, and cannot stand still. It is only by getting more, and always more, that we can keep what we have. And let not Nicias succeed in his attempt to set the old against the young, neither let us believe, like him, that the stability of a state consists in stagnation. It is only by a hearty co-operation of all ages and classes that any state can prosper, and a community which finds no outlet for its energies abroad is soon worn out by discord and faction at home. Above all is this true of us Athenians, to whom ceaseless toil and endeavour is the very element in which we live."

The advice of Alcibiades, thus tendered in the garb of political wisdom, was of fatal and ruinous tendency, and in direct opposition to the oft-repeated warnings of Pericles. But his speech was exactly suited to the temper of his audience, and most of those who followed him spoke to the same effect, and when the Egestaeans and Leontines renewed their entreaties it became evident that the original motion would be confirmed by a large majority. Nicias, however, resolved to make one more effort, and he came forward to speak again, hoping by a new device to check the torrent of popular enthusiasm. Affecting to regard the matter as settled, he entered into an estimate of the force required for the proposed expedition, prefaced by an alarming picture of the wealth and power of the Sicilian Greeks. To act with effect against such an enemy, they must send, not only an overwhelming naval force, but a numerous body of troops, both cavalry and infantry, and a fleet laden with supplies for many months. They must proceed, in fact, as if they were founding a great city on a hostile soil. On no other condition, added Nicias, would he undertake the command. Nicias had intended, by exaggerating the difficulties of the undertaking, to damp the ardour of the Athenians; but to his utter dismay, these timid counsels were greeted with a great shout of applause. It was supposed that he had changed his opinion, and even the elder men began to think that so prudent a leader, backed by such an armament, could not fail of success. A great wave of excitement swept over the assembly, and the few who still doubted were cowed into silence. When the tumult had subsided, a certain Demostratus, [Footnote: The name is given by Plutarch.] who had spoken strongly in favour of the expedition, addressing Nicias in the name of the assembly, asked him to state plainly what force he required. Thus driven into a corner, Nicias answered, with great reluctance, that the number of triremes must be not less than one hundred, with five thousand heavy-armed infantry, and slingers and bow-men in proportion. This enormous estimate was carried without demur, and by the same vote full powers were conferred on the generals to fix the scale of the armament as they might think best for the interests of Athens.

Thus, by a strange freak of fortune, the Athenians, at the most momentous crisis of their history, were urged along the road to ruin by the most opposite qualities in their leaders, the cold caution of Nicias, and the wild energy of Alcibiades.

III

During the whole of the following spring [Footnote: B.C. 415.] preparations for the invasion of Sicily were actively pushed on, and the whole city was in a bustle and stir of excitement. Athens had recently recovered from the ravages of the plague, and six years of peace had recruited her resources, both in men and money. Since the first outbreak of the war a new generation had grown up, and these young and untried spirits joined, with all the fire of youth, in an enterprise which promised them a boundless field of adventure. Others were attracted by the baser motive of gain, or by mere curiosity, and the love of travel. No thought of danger or hardship, no hint of possible failure, clouded the brilliant prospect; it was a gay holiday excursion, and at the same time a grand scheme of conquest, offering fame to the ambitious, wealth to the needy, and pleasant recreation to all. Thousands flocked eagerly to enter their names for the service, and the only trouble of the recruiting officers was in choosing the stoutest and the best.

The great armament was on the eve of departure, and all hearts were full of joyful anticipation, when an event occurred which suddenly chilled this happy mood, and cast a shadow of evil augury on the whole undertaking. The Athenians of that age, like their descendants nearly five centuries later, [Footnote: See Acts xvii. 22.] were "more god-fearing than other men." They worshipped a multitude of divinities, and their city was thronged with the temples and statues of heroes and gods. Conspicuous among the objects of popular adoration was the god Hermes, who is exhibited by ancient poets and artists as a gracious and lovely youth, the special patron of eloquence and wit, the guardian spirit of travellers and merchants, and the giver of good luck. A familiar feature in the streets and public places of Athens was the bust of Hermes, surmounting a quadrangular stone pillar. Many hundreds of these pillars, which were called Hermae, were scattered about over the whole city, standing before the doors of houses and temples, at cross-ways and places of public resort. Wherever he went, whatever he did, the Athenian felt himself to be in the presence of this genial and friendly power, who attended him, with more than human sympathy, in all his ways.

If such were the feelings of the Athenians towards their favourite deity, what must have been their horror when they awoke one morning to find that all the busts of Hermes, with one or two exceptions, were shattered and mutilated beyond all recognition. The whole population was thunderstruck, and wild rumours ran from mouth to mouth concerning the perpetrators and the motive of this shocking outrage. It was evident that many hands must have been employed on the work of destruction, and those who had so foully insulted the most hallowed affections of their fellow-citizens were believed to be capable of any enormity. It was loudly asserted that a black conspiracy was hatching against the liberties of the people, and that the worst days of the tyranny were about to be revived. For in those days religion and politics were associated with a closeness of intimacy unknown in modern Europe, and sacrilege might well be regarded as a prelude to treason. Active measures were at once taken to bring the offenders to justice, and great rewards were offered to anyone, whether citizen, slave, or resident foreigner, who gave information concerning this or any similar crime. At first nothing was disclosed as to the mutilation of the Hermae, but other recent acts of profanation were brought to light, and among these was mentioned a derisive parody of the great Eleusinian Mysteries, alleged to have been performed in the house of Alcibiades, and elsewhere. The enemies of Alcibiades, who were both numerous and powerful, eagerly seized this handle against him; but when the matter was debated in the public assembly, it became evident that, if he were brought to trial at once, his present popularity, as chief promoter of the Sicilian expedition, would ensure his acquittal. Seeing, therefore, that their attack had been premature, those who had led the outcry against him now drew back, reserving themselves for a more favourable occasion. Being known as the bitter opponents of Alcibiades, they could not, without exciting grave suspicions, propose the adjournment of his trial; but other speakers, prompted by them, urged on grounds of public expediency that the charges against him should be held in suspense, so as not to delay the departure of the fleet. Alcibiades saw plainly that this manoeuvre was contrived to get him out of the way, to remove his adherents from Athens, and leave his enemies free to pursue their machinations during his absence. But it was in vain that he exposed the malicious motives of the last speakers, and pleaded earnestly for an immediate trial. The Athenians were still possessed by their daring scheme of conquest, and they decreed that Alcibiades should keep his command, and sail at once to Sicily.

IV

At last the great day arrived, and in the first light of a mid-summer dawn, a vast multitude was seen pouring along the broad highway which led, between the Long Walls, from Athens to Peiraeus. The Upper City was almost deserted by its inhabitants, for there was hardly one Athenian who had not some cherished comrade, or some near relation, enrolled for service in Sicily, and the crowd was swelled by thousands of strangers, who came as spectators of that memorable scene. Little now appeared of that sanguine and joyous temper which had prevailed among the Athenians when they first voted for the expedition. Their feelings had lately been fearfully harrowed by the mutilation of the Hermae, and now that the moment of parting was at hand, all the perils and uncertainties of their grand enterprise rose up vividly before them. They were restored, however, to some degree of cheerfulness, when they reached the harbour of Peiraeus, and saw the magnificent fleet riding at anchor. Nearly all the vessels lying in the bay were Athenian; for the main body of the allies, and the commissariat ships, had been ordered to muster at Corcyra. The triremes furnished by Athens numbered a hundred, of which sixty were fully equipped as war-galleys, while forty were employed as transports. These numbers had been equalled more than once before during the war; but in efficiency, in splendour of appearance, and in the quality of the crews, this was by far the finest fleet that ever sailed from Peiraeus. Only the bare hulls of the ships were provided by the state, and each vessel was assigned to some wealthy citizen, who defrayed all the expense of fitting her for active service. Sometimes the cost of equipping a ship was divided between two or more citizens, and at ordinary times this form of taxation must have been felt by the rich as a heavy burden. But such was the popularity of the Sicilian expedition that the wealthy Athenians who were charged with this duty went far beyond what was required of them, each striving to surpass the others by the superior beauty and speed of his own ship. The crews were all composed of picked men, attracted by the double rate of pay which was furnished from the state exchequer; and in addition to this, the trierarchs [Footnote: Citizens charged with the duty of equipping a trireme.] paid special premiums to the petty officers and to the highest class of rowers. The same spirit of emulation extended to the whole body of Athenians enrolled in the army and fleet; every man felt that whatever he spent on his own personal equipment was spent for the honour and glory of Athens. And the effect produced on the public mind in Greece was, in fact, prodigious: after all the ravages of the plague, and ten years of exhausting warfare, Athens, it seemed, was stronger than ever, and in the mere exuberance of energy was making this imposing display of wealth and power. As to the ostensible object of the expedition—the conquest of Sicily—few doubted that it must follow as a matter of course.

The last farewell had been spoken, the troops were all embarked, and the rowers sat ready at their oars. The trumpet sounded, commanding silence, and the voice of the herald was heard, repeating a solemn prayer, which was taken up by the whole multitude on sea and on shore, while the captains and soldiers poured libations of wine from goblets of silver and gold. When this act of worship was ended, the crews raised the paean, and at a given signal the whole fleet was set in motion, and passed, in single file, out of the harbour. On reaching the open water, they quitted this order, and engaged in a friendly contest of speed as far as Aegina. Then the crews settled down to their work, and the great armament swept on, high in heart and hope, to join the allied contingents, and commissariat fleet, now assembled at Corcyra.

As yet only general rumours of the intended invasion had reached Syracuse, and few of the citizens were aware of the imminent peril in which they stood. Among those who were better informed was Hermocrates, a Syracusan of high rank, who for many years had been the guiding spirit in Sicilian politics. Speaking at a public assembly, about the time when the Athenian fleet sailed from Peiraeus, he urged the necessity of taking prompt measures for placing the city in a thorough state of defence. He had no fear, he said, of the ultimate triumph of Syracuse in the approaching struggle: only let them be on their guard, and not underrate the power of the enemy whom they would have to face. The words of Hermocrates, who enjoyed a high reputation for valour, patriotism, and sagacity, were not without their effect, and it was resolved that the generals should at once set about organizing the military resources of Syracuse, and providing all things necessary for the public safety. Some steps in this direction they had already taken; and tidings soon arrived at Syracuse which caused them to redouble their exertions.

For in the meantime the Athenians had reached Corcyra, where they held a final review of all their forces. The total number of the triremes was a hundred and thirty-four, and with these sailed a vast fleet of merchant ships, and smaller craft, laden with stores of all kinds, and carrying a whole army of bakers, masons, and carpenters, with the tools of their crafts, and all the engines required for a siege. Besides these, there was a great number of other vessels, small and great, fitted out by private speculators for purposes of trade. The military force was on a corresponding scale, comprising five thousand, one hundred hoplites, of whom fifteen hundred were full Athenian citizens, four hundred and eighty archers, seven hundred slingers from Rhodes, and a hundred and twenty exiles from Megara, equipped as light-armed troops. The force of cavalry was but small, being conveyed in a single transport.

The whole armament now weighed anchor from Corcyra and sailed in three divisions, each commanded by one of the generals, to the opposite coast of Italy. On arriving at Rhegium, an Ionic city on the Italian side of the strait, they received permission to beach their ships, and form a camp outside the walls; and here they waited for the return of three fast-sailing triremes, which had been sent forward from Corcyrato carry the news of their approach to Egesta, and claim the promised subsidy, and at the same time to sound the temper of the Greek cities in Sicily. Before long the ships came back with their report, and the Athenians now learned to their great chagrin that all the fabled wealth of Egesta had dwindled to the paltry sum of thirty talents.

The three generals now held a council of war, to decide on a plan of campaign. It was evident that no help was to be obtained from Egesta, and the attitude of the Rhegini, who declined to enter their alliance, boded ill for the success of the expedition. As their prospects were so discouraging, Nicias proposed to confine their operations within the narrowest limits, to patch up a peace between Selinus and Egesta, to aid the Leontines, if it could be done without risk or expense, and after making a display of the Athenian power, to sail home to Athens. Alcibiades protested strongly against such a course, as disgraceful to Athens, and unworthy of the splendid armament entrusted to their command. Let them try first what could be effected by negotiation with the Greek cities and native tribes of Sicily, and after gaining as many allies as possible in the island, let them proceed to the attack of Selinus and Syracuse. Lamachus, on the other hand, a plain, downright soldier, was for sailing straight to Syracuse, and striking immediately at the heart of Sicily. The city, he argued, would be found unprepared, and if they acted at once, in the first terror of their presence, they were certain of victory; but if they waited, their men would lose heart, the efficiency of the fleet would be impaired, and the Syracusans would gather strength and courage from the delay.

How true was the forecast of Lamachus was proved by the event; but his bold plan was distasteful alike to the timid temper of Nicias, and to the tortuous, intriguing spirit of Alcibiades. Finding, therefore, that he had no hope of convincing his colleagues, he voted for the middle course, and accordingly the plan of Alcibiades, unquestionably the worst of the three, was adopted.

In pursuance of this fatal policy Alcibiades crossed over to Messene, and tried to win over that city to the side of Athens. Meeting with no success, he returned to Rhegium, and immediately afterwards he and one of his colleagues sailed with a force of sixty triremes to Naxos. Here the Athenians found a hearty welcome, but at Catana, which was then under the influence of Syracuse, their overtures were rejected, so they continued their voyage southwards, and made their camp for the night at the mouth of the river Terias. Starting early next day, they proceeded along the coast, and, crossing the bay of Thapsus, came in sight, for the first time, of their great enemy, Syracuse. The main body of the fleet remained in the offing, but ten triremes were sent forward to reconnoitre the Great Harbour, and get a nearer view of the fortifications. When the little squadron came within hearing of the walls, a herald proclaimed in a loud voice that any of the Leontines now present in Syracuse should leave the city without fear, and come over to their faithful kinsmen and allies, the Athenians. After this futile demonstration, better calculated; to excite laughter than terror, the reconnoitring triremes withdrew, and the whole fleet sailed back in the direction of Rhegium. On their return voyage the Athenians succeeded, by a lucky accident, in gaining the adherence of Catana, which henceforth became the head-quarters of the whole armament. Soon after they had effected this important change of station the Salaminian state trireme arrived with momentous news from Athens. We have seen what a panic of superstitious fear had been caused among the Athenians by the mutilation of the Hermae. Arrested for the moment by the all-absorbing interest of the Sicilian expedition, the excitement broke out with renewed violence after the departure of the fleet. The enemies of Alcibiades saw that the time was now ripe for bringing up against him the charge of violating the mysteries, and pressing for a judgment. A formal indictment was laid before the senate, and it was decided that he should come home and stand his trial. But it was necessary to proceed with caution, for Alcibiades was popular with the troops serving in Sicily; and it was possible that, if any violence were attempted against his person, they might break out into mutiny. Accordingly the captain of the Salaminian trireme was instructed to treat him with all respect, and allow him to return to Athens in his own vessel. On receiving the summons Alcibiades affected to obey, and set sail from Catana, with the state trireme in attendance. The two ships remained in company as far as Thurii, a Greek town of southern Italy, but there the great criminal disappeared, and after searching for him in vain the officers of the Salaminia were obliged to return to Athens without him. When the news of his flight was brought to Athens, he was arraigned in his absence, and condemned to death. But if his enemies supposed that they had heard the last of Alcibiades, they soon learnt how deeply they were mistaken.

V

The conduct of the campaign in Sicily was thus left in the feeble hands of Nicias; for though Lamachus nominally held an equal command, his poverty and political insignificance prevented him from holding the position to which his military talents entitled him. The few remaining weeks of summer were frittered away in trivial operations on the western coasts of the island, and then the Athenians withdrew into winter quarters at Catana. The predictions of Lamachus now began to be fulfilled: seeing that Nicias, with the vast force at his disposal, attempted nothing against them, the Syracusans began to despise their enemy, and thought of taking the offensive. Horsemen from Syracuse rode repeatedly up to the Athenian outposts at Catana, and tauntingly inquired if the Athenians had come to found a colony in Sicily. At last even Nicias felt that some display of activity was necessary to save himself from contempt. He had learnt from certain Syracusan exiles that there was a convenient place for landing troops, on the low-lying shore where the river Anapus flows into the Great Harbour. Here he determined to make a sudden descent, and in order to avoid disembarking in the face of an enemy, he contrived a stratagem to remove the whole Syracusan force out of reach. A citizen of Catana, who was attached to the Athenian interest, was sent with a message to the Syracusan generals, which held out a tempting prospect of gaining an easy and decisive advantage over the Athenian army. Professing to come from the partisans of Syracuse still remaining in Catana, he promised on their behalf that if the Syracusans made a sudden assault on the Athenian camp, their friends in Catana would simultaneously fall upon the Athenian troops, who were in the habit of deserting their quarters and straggling about the town, and set fire to their ships.

This plausible story found ready credence with the Syracusan generals, and they named a day on which they promised to appear in full force before the walls of Catana. When the time appointed drew near, they marched out with the whole Syracusan army, leaving the city to be garrisoned by their allies, and took up a position within easy reach of Catana. Thereupon Nicias, who was fully informed of their movements, embarked his troops by night, sailed down the coast past Syracuse, and entering the Great Harbour, came to land near the outlying suburb of Polichne, where stood the great temple of the Olympian Zeus. Here he planted a breastwork of palisades to defend his ships, and drew up his army on ground which offered many obstacles to the advance of the Syracusan cavalry. Then, having broken down the bridge over the Anapus, he waited for the enemy to appear.

Meanwhile the Syracusan generals had marched upon Catana, and finding that they had been duped, returned with all speed to the defence of their own city. After a long and fatiguing march, they came in view of the Athenian position, and drew up their forces for battle. But Nicias declined the challenge, and the day being now far advanced, they fell back and encamped for the night in the open field.

Next morning Nicias, acting with unusual vigour, drew up his army in two equal divisions, and leaving one half to defend the camp, and act as a reserve, with the other he advanced rapidly upon the enemy. The Syracusans, who had perhaps reckoned too much on the known indolence of Nicias, were taken by surprise. Their discipline was lax, and many of them had left their posts, and gone off into the town. Nevertheless, they met the attack with firmness: those who were on the spot hastened to assume their weapons, which they had laid aside, while the stragglers came running back, and took their stand wherever they saw a gap in the ranks. After some preliminary skirmishing between the light-armed troops, the heavy masses of the hoplites came to close quarters, and a fierce hand to hand struggle ensued. While the issue was still uncertain, a violent thunderstorm broke over the contending armies, and struck terror into the Syracusans, who regarded it as an omen of defeat. But the seasoned soldiers of Nicias saw nothing unusual in an autumn tempest, and perceiving the enemy to waver, they pressed their attack, and broke through the opposing lines. The whole Syracusan army now fell back upon Syracuse, but they retired without haste or disorder, and their retreat was covered by a numerous and efficient body of cavalry, so that their total loss amounted only to two hundred and sixty.