APPENDIX TO CHAPTER VIII.

The Parallel Journals of Thermopylæ and Artemisium Reconstructed.

No of the day. Events at Thermopylæ. Events at Artemisium. Approximate time of day.
12 Persian fleet leaves Therma. Early morning.
Persian fleet arrives at Sepiad strand. Evening.
Capture of Greek scouting vessels by Persian advanced squadron. Probably before midday.
Greek fleet at Artemisium.
Greek fleet receives news from Skiathos of the loss of the three vessels. Evening, probably late.
13 Persian army reaches Malis. First storm begins.
Wreck of part of Persian fleet at Sepiad strand.
Greek fleet retires or is driven to inner strait (Chalkis?). Probably early morning.
14 Persian army inactive before Thermopylæ. Storm continues.
Persian fleet at Sepiad strand.
Greek fleet in inner strait.
Report of Persian disaster reaches Greek fleet.
Greek fleet moves north [?]
15 Persian army inactive before Thermopylæ. Storm continues.
Fleets as on 14th day.
16 Persian army still inactive. Persian fleet moves to and arrives at Aphetæ. Arrived early in afternoon.
Greek fleet moves back to Artemisium.
Greek fleet captures 15 Persian vessels.
Greek commanders consult about retirement from Artemisium. Probably evening.
17 Persian army still inactive. Greek commanders on Themistocles’ persuasion determine to remain at Artemisium. Morning [?]
Persians despatch squadron to circumnavigate Eubœa. By daylight.
18 Persian army makes first attack on Thermopylæ. Persians review their fleet.
Skyllias carries news of the despatch of the 200 to the Greek fleet. During the review.
Arrived at Artemisium in the afternoon.
Greek fleet engages Persian fleet at Aphetæ. Late in afternoon.
Second storm begins. Early in evening.
Wreck of the 200 Persian vessels in the Hollows of Eubœa. Early in the night.
Fifty-three Attic vessels at Chalkis.
19 Second attack on Thermopylæ. Both fleets inactive. Earlier part of day.
The 53 Attic vessels join the Greek fleet. Earlier than the late afternoon.
Greek fleet receives news of the wreck of the 200. About same time as above.
United Greek fleet attacks Cilician contingent of Persian fleet. Late afternoon.
20 Third and successful attack on Thermopylæ. Persian fleet takes offensive against Greek fleet.
General engagement.
Greek commanders consult as to retirement.
News of disaster at Thermopylæ reaches Greek fleet.
Greek fleet retires from Artemisium. Night.

CHAPTER IX.
SALAMIS.

Thermopylæ taken, and Artemisium deserted, the way southwards, both by land and sea, was now open to the invading force. No doubt the general plan of future operations was discussed in the Persian council of war. It may be that, owing to the presence of the Spartan Demaratos, some faint echo of the discussion reached Greek ears. It may be, too, that Herodotus’ story of the interview of Demaratos and Achæmenes with Xerxes after the capture of Thermopylæ contains some hint of the general lines which it followed. According to his tale, the main question was whether a part of the fleet should create a diversion against Sparta in South Peloponnese, or whether such a division of the naval forces might be undesirable. Achæmenes was strongly in favour of keeping the fleet together and crushing the Greeks by mere weight of numbers; and Xerxes decided in favour of this plan. It is needless to say that the story cannot be taken au pied de la lettre. In its main lines it may be true; in one of its details it contains what is almost certainly an anachronism. That the desperate defence of the pass may have suggested to some members of the council of war the advisability of taking measures to distract the attention of Sparta from the general defence is extremely likely. Herodotus puts the suggestion in the mouth of Demaratos, who is also represented as proposing a way in which his plan could be carried out—by the occupation of Kythera, a large island off the mouth of the Laconian gulf. ROUTE FROM THERMOPYLÆ. “Chilon,” he said, “who was the wisest man among us, asserted that it would be better for Sparta were the island not above water but below it, because he always expected that something of the kind which I am describing to you would come from it, not with special reference to your expedition, but because he dreaded all invasions alike.” Demaratos then proposed to the king that he should make this island the base of operations against the Lacedæmonian territory.

So runs the tale in Herodotus.

The mention of Kythera in this connection, taken in conjunction with the evidence which this part of the history affords of its having been composed during the early years of the Peloponnesian war, suggests that Herodotus has probably attributed to Demaratos in 480 a strategical proposal which was much discussed in Athens at the time at which he wrote, T. iv. 53, ff. and which was actually carried out a few years later when Nikias in 424 occupied this island.

The reliable part of Herodotus’ story is probably confined to the raising of the question whether or not some diversion against Sparta should be attempted. Into this account Herodotus has inserted a detail borrowed from a similar strategic question of his own day.

The way in which the advance by sea should be conducted being settled, it was necessary to decide upon the line or lines of advance by land. From Thermopylæ to the Attic border the Greek military highway is defined with singular clearness by the nature of the country. Œta forms the first barrier to be passed. The question of the utility of the Asopos ravine has been already discussed. For the purposes of a large army it is impracticable. Infantry could only pass through it in single file; and even a slight accident, or a slight rise in the stream, would block it. For a lightly equipped column with numbers not so large as to make it impossible for it to live on the country in its passage of the Dorian and Phocian plains, it would be a practicable route under circumstances such as existed at the time. Little opposition was to be expected; and it would be merely the question of a day or two before a junction could be effected with the main army, which would reach Parapotamii where the Phocian plain ends and the Bœotian begins, by the great route by way of Hyampolis. Besides the Asopos ravine there were three other routes from Thermopylæ southwards. The first of these led out of the pass up a steep ascent of one hour, and crossed the range of Œta, by way of the modern Boudenitza, to the ancient Elatæa. It is a mere mountain path, a way which an army without a heavy baggage train might adopt in an emergency, or by which a force defeated at Thermopylæ might secure its retreat. The second left the coast road near Thronion and passed up the valley of the Boagrios river, at the head of which it crossed the mountain ridge, and descended to Elatæa. It was certainly of importance in later times, though not fitted for the passage of a heavy baggage train, and difficult for cavalry. Hence, probably, there is no trace of its having been used by the Persian army on this occasion. The route by Atalanta and Hyampolis is admirably adapted for the advance of a large force. It presents but few difficulties to cavalry or baggage-train, and affords but few facilities to the defence. In this very part of his history Herodotus, in his excursus on the pre-existing relations between the Thessalians and Phocians, gives an example which shows pretty clearly that it was the route by which incursions of the Thessalian cavalry had to be feared. In an undated, but presumably recent war between the two peoples, H. viii. 28. the Phocians had inflicted a severe defeat on the raiding cavalry in the pass near Hyampolis. They had dug a trench across it, filled it with large pottery, and covered it with earth. Into this the Thessalian horsemen had fallen, and had incurred signal disaster.

The three minor routes join this major route at Parapotamii. There is, however, a loop of the main road, which, starting from Hyampolis, passes over a ridge to Orchomenos and joins the main road again outside the mountain gate at Parapotamii.

ROUTE THROUGH BŒOTIA.

Near this point in Mid Bœotia the invader from the north is faced by a barrier of a composite character, which, though not homogeneous, is one of the most effective in the whole of Greece. From the west the spurs of Helicon came down to the marshy expanse of Lake Kopais, a hundred square miles of shallow reed-covered mere, when the winter rains had raised it to its full height. From Kopais to the Euripus extended a narrow mountainous region, never rising to any great height, but exceedingly rough and broken, and affording no way of passage through it better than a mere track.

The consequence of this natural formation of the country was that an invader from the north was confined in his advance to the narrow breadth of land between Helicon and Kopais. So this mere ribbon of country became the great battle-ground of Greece, and on it the fate of the land was again and again decided at Chæronea, Koronea, and elsewhere. This part of the great northern route may be said to end at Thebes, which town, like Larisa and Lamia, was not merely a point where important roads converged, but also a point which must be passed in the passage from the North. To it came the great road which has just been described, and also a hardly less important road, which ran from Chalkis on the Eastern sea, and was continued through it to Kreusis on the Corinthian Gulf. Thebes was thus one of the great strategic positions in Greece.

Xerxes’ main object after taking Thermopylæ was to strike at Attica. Two minor objects had to be attained by the way; the punishment of the Phocians, and the plunder of Delphi.

The Phocians were the only people in the north, so Herodotus says, who did not medize. The Bœotians, wavering if not disloyal before, doubtless medized en masse after Thermopylæ had shown them the insincerity of the Council at the Isthmus with regard to the defence of the north. It is difficult to account for the Phocian attitude. H. viii. 30. Herodotus says they were simply actuated by the desire to take the opposite side to the Thessalians. It is possible that they dared not trust to the mercy of the Persian, seeing they had taken part in the defence of Thermopylæ. Besides, their own deadly foes were in the enemy’s camp. Whatever their motive was, H. viii. 30, ad fin. they took the moral ground of refusing to be traitors to their fatherland, and rejected the offer of the Thessalians to save them at a price.

The first step in the march south which Herodotus describes is the invasion of Phocis. H. viii. 31. A body of troops, under the guidance of the Thessalians, made their way into Doris, that dreary little upland plain at the head of the Kephissos basin. The route taken must have been by the Asopos defile. Doris was left unharmed. It had medized; and, besides, the Thessalians intervened on its behalf. Its poverty may have had something to do with its salvation on this occasion.[148]

From Doris the invaders passed into Phocis. There is no natural boundary between the two plains; and the records of the history of this region, dim though they are, point to a frequent shifting of the frontier. The Phocians had one retreat to which they could always resort; and, before the invasion was on them, they took to the heights of Parnassus, whose great humped mass rises more than seven thousand five hundred feet above the plain. It was evidently the accustomed refuge of the race. They had adopted the same plan at the time of the undated Thessalian attack on their country.

H. viii. 32.

The actual place of refuge on this occasion was Tithorea, not apparently at this time the city which it became later, but a strong natural position, which could be easily defended. PERSIAN RAID ON DELPHI. Many of them, however, had made their way to Amphissa, at the head of the Krissæan plain, not far from Delphi, passing thither, doubtless, through Dorian territory by way of the direct pass through the mountains from Kytinion to Amphissa, which is the southern continuation of the Thermopylæ-Delphi route by way of the Asopos ravine.

The destruction which the Persians wrought in Phocis was complete in so far as the plain was concerned. Its cities were plundered and destroyed; and the great oracular shrine at Abæ, close to Hyampolis, was robbed of its treasures and burnt to the ground.

At Parapotamii the plunderers from the plain would meet with the main force, which must have come round by the Atalanta route, to which the destruction of Abæ and Hyampolis may presumably be attributed.[149] It was from this point that a flying column was sent to attack Delphi, while the mass of the army held on its way through Bœotia. The route followed in the march to Delphi must have been the celebrated “divided way” (σχίστη ὁδός), made famous in the myth of Œdipus, H. viii. 35. for Herodotus mentions that they passed by Daulis and left Parnassus on their right. The object of this expedition was to seize the immensely valuable offerings at the great shrine, and especially those of Crœsus, the Lydian king.

The element of the supernatural plays so large a part in the tale of the adventures of this band of plunderers, that it is impossible to say with certainty what really happened. Some catastrophe overtook them in the immediate neighbourhood of Delphi itself; and the very remarkable physical characteristics of the neighbourhood of the town, together with the story in Herodotus divested of its supernatural element, render it possible to hazard a conjecture as to what was the actual nature of this catastrophe.

Delphi stood on a mere shelf of rock where the south slope of Parnassus sinks into a narrow cleft-like valley more than three thousand feet deep. On the north a perpendicular cliff of several hundred feet in height overhangs the site, and continues both east of it towards Amphissa until it meets the valley which comes south from that town; and also westward, towards the modern Aráchova, some two hours distant. South of the town the ground falls with great steepness towards the bottom of the Pleistos valley, two thousand five hundred feet below.

H. viii. 36.

On the news of the approach of the Persians some of the inhabitants of Delphi fled to Amphissa, in whose strong acropolis, commanding the direct road from Kytinion and the north, some of the Phocian refugees had shut themselves. Others, however, had taken refuge in the Corycian cave and on the summit of the cliffs above the town; and it is to these latter that the quasi-supernatural disaster which overtook the Persians must be attributed. The latter, coming from the direction of Aráchova, arrived at the temple of Pronaia Athene, which lay outside and west of the sacred precinct, beyond the ravine down which the stream from the Castalian spring makes its way. Cf. H. viii. 39. At this point the road would pass under the cliffs, and doubtless the refugees on their summit rained a shower of rocks on the advancing Persian band, who fled in disorder. Nothing is said about the number of the band, but, as it was on a mere plundering raid, it was probably not large.[150]

The war had now reached its most critical stage.

On the return of the fleet from Artemisium, the Athenians discovered the desertion which had led to the disaster at Thermopylæ.

H. viii. 40.

“They intended to call a council to consider the situation, since their expectation had been falsified; for they supposed that they would find the Peloponnesians in full force in Bœotia awaiting the barbarians. STRATEGIC SITUATION. They found nothing of the kind; nay, they heard that they were fortifying the Isthmus to the Peloponnese, making its salvation and defence their one great object, and letting the rest of Greece take its chance.”

They had evidently supposed that some large force was on its way to Thermopylæ at the time when the disaster took place, and had expected to find, at any rate, an army in Bœotia. What they actually discovered was that the Peloponnesians were fortifying the Isthmus, and were concentrating the defence on that point. The Peloponnesian party had at last shown its hand. Thermopylæ had been a mere pretence, an attempt to purchase the aid of the Athenian fleet, and, possibly, of the Northern States, at the cheapest rate possible,—at a much cheaper rate, indeed, than the price which had been actually paid. The idea of the Peloponnesians at this time evidently was that the Athenians might be led to suppose that, as the defence of so strong a position as Thermopylæ had been unsuccessful, no other position north of the Isthmus could possibly be regarded as tenable.

That which the Athenian commanders did recognize was that, as in their absence at Artemisium no sort of attempt had been made to provide for the defence of either the passage by Lake Kopais or of the Kithæron-Parnes line of mountains, the military situation must be, perforce, accepted, and their efforts must be concentrated on inducing the allies to take a sound view of the necessities of the naval position. In its main outlines it was plain to the dullest intelligence. The defence of the Isthmus was as much, if not more, dependent on the fleet than that of Thermopylæ. If the Persians could once land troops in Argolis, the position at the Isthmus was fatally turned. The saving factor in the situation was that the fleet was just as necessary an adjunct for the Peloponnesian as for the Northern policy. But when it became a question how the fleet should act as an aid to the defence of the Isthmus, the decision was by no means so clear. The fighting on the last day at Artemisium had shown the danger of meeting a greatly superior force on open water, where the smaller fleet could be outflanked; and the coast in the immediate neighbourhood of the Isthmus itself afforded no position which, if taken up, would guarantee the Greek fleet from attack on either flank. That was evidently the ruling consideration which decided the Greeks, on the recommendation of Themistocles, to take up their station in Salamis strait But even after that position was taken up, Themistocles must have been painfully conscious that, if the Persians chose to ignore the Greek fleet at Salamis, and to sail straight to the Isthmus, the situation would be dangerous to the last degree.

It must be recognized that in this great war the darkness before the dawn of Greek victory was intense. The strategy which led the Greek fleet to take its station at Salamis was the strategy of despair. It was adopted because there was no alternative. The only possibility of success depended upon the Persians being induced to attack the fleet in its chosen position; and this accounts for the manifest anxiety which Themistocles showed to do everything, to run even the risk of a charge of the grossest treachery, in order to bring about an engagement in the strait. One thing favoured his design. The Persians had shown at Artemisium that they intended, if they could, not merely to defeat, but to capture the whole Greek fleet Salamis strait, consisting of two narrow channels by which the broad bay of Eleusis communicates with the Saronic gulf, would seem to them a position adapted by nature to the carrying out of this purpose; and it must have been with a view to encourage them in this idea that Themistocles left the western channel unguarded. He was playing a desperate game, under circumstances which were, however, sufficiently desperate to justify it. The dazzling brilliancy of the success attained by it has blinded posterity to the enormous risk which it entailed.

Herodotus does not enlarge on the feelings of the Athenians when they discovered what had been going on during their absence at Artemisium. REMOVAL OF THE POPULATION OF ATTICA. They must have felt bitterly that they had been the victims of a base desertion, and they probably expressed their feelings; but nothing in the whole course of the war is more honourable to them than the practical spirit and energy with which they faced the situation. It was indeed before Salamis rather than at Salamis that Athens saved Greece. “When they learnt what had happened,” says Herodotus, “they requested the fleet to touch at Salamis.” They appear to have already made up their minds what to do. It is probable that their previous experience of the selfish policy of the Peloponnesians had prepared them for the possibility of a position such as that in which they found themselves. The half-fulfilment of the first oracle delivered to them at Delphi was to be accomplished. The population of Attica was to be removed en masse to refuges beyond the reach of the Persian army; and it is not unlikely that under certain eventualities the Athenian authorities were prepared to carry out to the full the desperate advice which Delphi had given them. H. viii. 41. The proclamation of removal was issued, and the people of Attica fled to various places on the shores of the Saronic gulf, some to Ægina, some to Salamis, but the majority to Trœzen. The Athenians knew well that they could expect no mercy from the Persian. Marathon had been an unpardonable act of lèse mejesté, for which they would have in any case to pay dearly, and with the very life-blood of their people, if they, as well as the land, fell into the enemy’s power.

It is noticeable that in choosing their places of refuge they were careful not to give any hostages to the Peloponnesians. Trœzen was the base of naval operations. Ægina and Salamis were islands. All three were therefore within reach of their own powerful fleet, and out of reach of the Peloponnesian army at the Isthmus.

The news that the fleet from Artemisium had put in at Salamis brought thither the rest of the Greek fleet, which seems to have been gathering for some time previously at the port of Pogon[151] in Trœzen, near the east end of the Argolic peninsula. The numbers now available were considerably larger than those which had fought at Artemisium.[152]

It seems to be implied by Herodotus’ language, as well as by the fact that their addition would raise the numbers of the Athenian fleet to two hundred, that the fifty-three Attic vessels were not part of the original fleet at Artemisium. If this be so, the net increase in the number of triremes at Salamis is forty-two. THE GREEK FLEET AT SALAMIS. Some of the original contingents, notably those of the Æginetans and Lacedæmonians, were increased; and several small contingents were added which had not been present at Artemisium. The almost absolute apathy of the Western States and of Magna Græcia is most marked. Corcyra is unrepresented.[153] The great Kroton sends but one ship. Had Salamis turned out differently, they might have had bitter cause to regret their lack of patriotism. It is, however, possible that Magna Græcia, and even the towns of the extreme north-west of Greece, had their attention distracted at this time by the immanence of the life-and-death struggle between Gelo and the Carthaginians in Sicily.

It is also noticeable that Herodotus makes one of his customary mistakes in addition, putting the number of the fleet, exclusive of pentekonters, at three hundred and seventy-eight; whereas, according to his own list, it should be three hundred and sixty-six.[154]

As at Artemisium, Eurybiades commanded the fleet. The Athenians, according to Herodotus, supplied the best ships.

Though the fleet had assembled at Salamis, it was by no means certain that it would remain there. The gathering had been designed to cover and assist the withdrawal of the population of Attica. It was quite certain that there would be a large party in favour of withdrawal to the Isthmus, and the risks, which have already been pointed out, attendant upon the occupation of the strait were so palpable, that they could hardly fail to afford a strong argument in favour of the Peloponnesian policy.

After the fleet had collected, a Council of War was held. It soon appeared that the majority were in favour of retiring to some point off the Isthmus. They argued that there, in case of defeat, they could withdraw to land held by their own troops, whereas a disaster at Salamis would mean that they would be blockaded on that not very fruitful island.

Before the decision was taken, an Athenian messenger arrived announcing that the Persian was already committing devastation in Attica.

Of Xerxes’ passage from Panopeus, near Parapotamii, to Attica, little is told by Herodotus. H. viii. 50. He must have taken the great route to Thebes, whence, after burning Thespiæ and Platæa, he probably made his way into Attica by the Dryoskephalæ and other passes.

H. viii. 51.

There is a curious and somewhat self-contradictory tale in Herodotus about what occurred in Athens itself at this time. He says that the Persians “came upon the city deserted, but found a few of the Athenians in the temple, both the temple stewards and (certain) poor men, who, having fortified the Acropolis with planks, and wooden (breastworks), tried to defend themselves against the assailants. The reason they had not departed to Salamis was that they had not the means to do so; and, furthermore, because they thought that they had discovered the meaning of the oracular response which the Pythian gave them, namely, that the wooden wall should never be taken, and that this and not the ships was to be their salvation.” The historian then proceeds to give what purports to be a description of a siege of this fortification. The Persians took up their position on Areopagus, and confined their attack in the first place to the discharge of fire-bearing arrows against the wooden wall. The besieged replied by rolling down boulder stones upon the assailants, and “for a long time” Xerxes was at a loss how to force an entrance. Finally a party scaled one of the cliffs at an unexpected point, and the Acropolis was taken, and all its defenders massacred.

THE SIEGE OF THE ACROPOLIS.

Such is, in brief, the extraordinary tale.

But the strangest part of the whole story is the account of the impression created in the fleet by the news of the capture.

H. viii. 56.

“The Greeks at Salamis, on hearing what had happened to the Athenian Acropolis, fell into such a state of panic, that some of the commanders did not even wait for the settlement of the question under discussion, but rushed to the ships, and set sail with intent to take to flight. By those who remained it was decided to fight in front of the Isthmus.”

The inconsistency between the description of the garrison and its defensive works, and the alarm created by the capture of the fortification, is so glaring as to be irreconcileable, and modern historians have naturally been led to form conjectures as to what really took place. It has been suggested that the tale is merely a reminiscence of the fact that some stragglers who had remained in the Acropolis were slaughtered by the Persians after their occupation of the city, an incident exaggerated in subsequent tradition. This, if true, would bring into still higher relief the absurdity of the panic in the fleet at Salamis.

A much more probable theory[155] is that Herodotus, so far from overstating what took place, has considerably understated it, and that a real defence was attempted, and a serious disaster sustained. This does, at any rate, account for two important points in the narrative, (1) that the defence was successful “for a considerable time;” (2) that the panic caused was so great.

The evidence, other than that of Herodotus, as to what took place at this time, affords, unfortunately, but little help to the elucidation of the mystery. Diodorus, though in his account of the actual battle of Salamis he makes use of information which is certainly not drawn from Herodotus, has in this particular instance transcribed Herodotus’ description almost word for word.

The question is, Was a garrison of any kind left in the Acropolis?

H. viii. 41.

Herodotus has already given the words of the proclamation for the desertion of Attica: “The Athenians shall dispose their children and households in any place of safety they can.” Arist. Athen Polit. 23. Aristotle says that the Areopagus assisted the citizens with a vote of eight drachmas apiece. Plut. Them. 10. Plutarch speaks of a psephism proposed by Themistocles to the effect that (1) the city should be left to the care of Athene; (2) all able-bodied persons should embark on board the fleet; (3) the rest of the population should save itself where it could.

Against this cf. Thuc. i. 73.

It has been suggested that Plutarch is here guilty of an historical error, (1) because Herodotus says nothing about embarkation on board the triremes; (2) because this embarkation is incredible, since the triremes had their complements already, and an addition to their crews would have been an embarrassment. H. viii. 95. It is concluded therefore that the land army did not as a whole embark. Some hoplites were posted at Salamis; but there is reason, so it is urged, to suspect that part of the army was left at Athens.

It is plain that, on the evidence available, any conjecture must involve its maker in certain difficulties. In the present instance one important objection immediately arises:⁠—no adequate motive can be urged for the suppression of the truth, if this conjecture represents it. Had such a disaster overtaken a considerable Athenian force, would not Herodotus, who is anxious to bring into prominence the sufferings and self-sacrifice of the Athenians in this war, have seized upon so noteworthy an example in point? Again, what conceivable object was to be gained under the circumstances by garrisoning the Acropolis? Furthermore, taking the history of the war as related, is it in the slightest degree likely that the Persians could, even by surprise, have taken such a position when defended by any considerable number of Greek hoplites? It is improbable to the last degree.

But the rejection of this theory does not lead to any positive results in the elucidation of the story. Herodotus has manifestly exaggerated or understated some detail of it.

THEMISTOCLES.

His expression that the siege lasted “a considerable time” is not perhaps to be taken as being more precise than such expressions are in ordinary language. It may have been that some enthusiasts or belated citizens did conceive the idea that they could defend themselves, and possibly their property, in that remarkable stronghold until the danger was overpast, and that, considering the resources at their disposal, they did hold out for “a considerable time.” It may be that “the considerable time” was inserted by the historian to emphasize the hopelessness of the struggle against fate, as represented by the oracle. “It was fated,” he says, “in accordance with the oracle, that the whole of continental Attica should fall into the hands of the Persian.”

But how is the panic in the fleet at Salamis to be accounted for? The tale at Artemisium may suggest a solution. Herodotus shows himself very eager to bring into prominence the difficulty which Athens had in keeping the courage of the other Greeks to its sticking point; and this description of the panic and the consequent determination to withdraw to the Isthmus is identical in species with the frequent references in the Artemisium story to withdrawals or intended withdrawals either to Chalkis or to Mid Greece. Doubtless these stories do rest on a very solid basis of fact, though in themselves exaggerated. The Peloponnesians seem to have displayed an almost feverish anxiety to remove the defence to the Isthmus.

The near approach of the crisis in the war brings into peculiar prominence the man who was destined to play the greatest part in it. It cannot be accounted otherwise than strange that a historian so fair-minded as Herodotus should up to this point in his narrative have minimized the share which this remarkable man must have taken in determining the course of the Greek operations previous to Salamis. And yet, even from his account of the war, it is evident that Themistocles had been most prominent in whatever part of the Greek strategy had been due to Athenian initiative. He had commanded the contingent sent to Thessaly; he had commanded the Athenian fleet at Artemisium. In both cases the adoption of a line of defence so far north of Peloponnesus must have been due to Athenian influence; and it may be regarded as certain that Themistocles was mainly, if not entirely, responsible for the direction in which that influence made itself felt. In Thessaly there had indeed been a passive failure, and Artemisium had not been a success. It is clear, however, that in the latter case the Athenians did not attribute the lack of success to Themistocles, otherwise they could not have been expected to place themselves so entirely in his hands as they did at the time of Salamis. Probably the true significance of Thermopylæ was already surmised, if not understood, at Athens, soon after the fleet returned from Artemisium.

Herodotus seems never to have succeeded in getting the character of Themistocles into its true perspective. It is possible that the tales told in after-time of his financial trickeries prejudiced the honest old historian against him. Throughout his history he shows himself an admirer of moral rather than intellectual greatness; and this disposition on his part would inevitably tend to obscure his appreciation of the great qualities of one whom tradition represented to him as guilty of a most serious form of moral weakness. Whence he drew the tradition he followed is another question. It may be that during his sojourn in Athens he was associated with the political heirs of the party opposed to Themistocles, and, if so, it may be certain that he would hear little to Themistocles’ credit, and much that was false to his discredit Still the tradition as to this peculiarly bad characteristic of the man was very prevalent; and it is hardly conceivable that the unanimity of the testimony of after-time was founded on no sounder basis than inimical party tradition. It is, then, possible that there was a real groundwork of truth in the accusations which Herodotus brings against Themistocles, though the undue emphasis which the historian lays on this side of the man’s character renders it also probable that, if true, the accusations are not unexaggerated.

At the same time, the complete assumption of this truth is difficult, in view of the silence of Thucydides on the matter. THUCYDIDES’ ACCOUNT OF THEMISTOCLES. It is plain that he considered the charges sufficiently groundless to be ignored, and this in spite of the fact that the course of his history forced him to recount the least savoury portion of the great man’s career. Nor can it be assumed that the historian’s judgment was warped by party considerations. Such obliquities as are discernible in the biographical details in his history are clearly traceable to personal rather than party enmities. It is manifest that he had an intense admiration for Themistocles’ intellectual capacity; and it was fortunate for after-times that the second great historian of the fifth century was led by circumstances to draw the picture of the character of perhaps the most able man which the century produced—a picture which, in the hands of the first historian, had never got beyond the stage of mere preliminary sketches, not artistically connected, never completed, and never perhaps intended to be so. It is really the written judgment of Thucydides which has enabled posterity to understand the influence of Themistocles at this most critical period of Greek history, when the land was faced by circumstances of a magnitude far outstripping the narrow bounds of Greek experience. When the knowledge of experience cannot compass the situation, the intuition of genius is the only possible means by which the situation may be successfully met. And, if Thucydides is to be believed, it was this special and most rare quality which Themistocles possessed in such a remarkable degree.

T. i. 138.

“Themistocles was a man who displayed genius in the most unmistakable way, and in this respect calls for admiration in a special and unparalleled manner. For by his native intellectual power, unaided by study or by the teaching of experience, he was capable of giving the ablest opinion in emergencies only admitting of the briefest consideration, and was skilled in forming a judgment upon coming events even to the most distant future. Whatever came within the range of his practice, he could explain; and he did not fail to form an adequate judgment on that which lay beyond his experience. He possessed a peculiar power of foresight into the good and evil of the uncertain future. Speaking generally, by the very power of his genius, in spite of the slightness of his application, he was unsurpassed in devising intuitively what was required in an emergency.”

Note on Translation of T. i. 138, 3, καὶ οὔτε προμαθών ἐς αὐτὴν οὐδὲν οὐτ ἐπιμαθών.

The translation I have adopted follows in its main lines that of Croiset in his edition of Thucydides, to which attention is called in M. Hauvette’s work on Herodotus. “Le génie naturel de Thémistocle ne devait rien ni à l’étude préalable ni à cette autre sorte d’étude qui sort de l’expérience, et surtout de l’expérience malheureuse.”

Such is Thucydides’ description of the man, delivered more than sixty years after Salamis, when his cool judgment, unaffected by political controversy, which had in the interval wholly changed its ground, could sift without passion and without prejudice the evidence that he found in existence in his own time. Themistocles may have been dishonest; but Thucydides does not seem to have been satisfied that he was so; and, that being the case, the modern world may well have some doubts upon the subject.

Apart from the charges of dishonesty, Herodotus shows a tendency to discount the merit of Themistocles in proposing the design which led to the great victory. A previous example of the same tendency has been noticed in the reference which the historian makes to the proposal to allot the surplus from the mines at Laurion to the construction of a fleet. It is there implied that Themistocles did not act with the foresight with which he was credited; that the proposal had reference to the war with Ægina, and not to any foreseen invasion from the side of Persia. It is easy now to see that Herodotus’ allegation is most certainly mistaken. The Persian design of revenging Marathon, conceived before the death of Darius in 485, cannot have been a secret; and the mere size of the fleet proposed renders it extremely unlikely that Athens would have assented to the expense it involved, merely for the purposes of an attack on a state which could only place one-fifth of the number of ships in commission.

The allegation of Herodotus in the present instance is equally unconvincing.

THE TALE OF MNESIPHILOS.

He describes the panic, as he asserts it to have been, caused by the fall of Athens, and the consequent decision to withdraw the fleet to the Isthmus, and implies that Themistocles was a consenting party to the withdrawal. H. viii. 57. “On Themistocles coming on board his ship, Mnesiphilos, an Athenian, asked him what had been decided by the council.” On learning from him that it had been decided to put out to the Isthmus and fight for the Peloponnese, he prophesied that the whole force would break up, and Greece come to ruin. He also advised Themistocles to do all he could to dissuade Eurybiades from a design so disastrous. The animus of the story is shown by the assertion that Themistocles went on board the commander’s vessel, and used these arguments as his own. Of this Mnesiphilos more is told in Plutarch. Plut. Them. He represents him to have been the political tutor of Themistocles, and says that some people attributed to Mnesiphilos much for which Themistocles got credit with the general public. It may be surmised that the people who took this view were not unconnected with the various other stories current in later times to Themistocles’ discredit. The story in Herodotus is in itself not free from improbability, and is inconsistent with what the author’s own account of the battle shows to have been the reason for fighting in the strait, namely, the desire to engage the numerically superior fleet in a channel where its greater numbers would be of but little avail. The last fight at Artemisium had probably taught the Greeks a lesson to whose significance they could not shut their eyes; at any rate, in the then state of feeling, it must have been a very powerful and compelling motive which induced the Peloponnesian contingents to abide at Salamis. The tale of Mnesiphilos supplies none such. The argument as to the break-up of the defence is palpably weak. There would be infinitely more fear of a dissolution of the naval force in case Salamis were chosen as the scene of battle, than if it were determined to fight in the immediate neighbourhood of the Isthmus, the very determination for which the Peloponnesian party had been intriguing ever since the war began.

This tale of Mnesiphilos is so suspicious that it cannot be regarded as reliable history. Herodotus seems himself to have been aware that it would convey an impression of improbability when read beside the other tale of the motive which Themistocles urged for fighting in the strait; for he attempts to reconcile the truth of the two stories.

In his private interview with Eurybiades, Themistocles, so he says, adopted as his own the argument suggested by Mnesiphilos, and with its aid so far persuaded that much vexed but apparently honest patriot of the inadvisability of the decision to which the Council of War had recently come, that he consented to call another meeting to reconsider the subject. This was the famous meeting at which the fate of Greece was decided; and it may be regarded as certain that, as is invariably the case with the crises of great historical tragedies, later tradition did not allow the incidents of the situation to lose dramatic force in the telling. Though the dramatic element is not absent from Herodotus’ version, it gives a strong impression of being in the main a true account of what took place. The historian seems to have exercised a powerful self-control over himself in writing the account of what he knew well to have been the most critical moment in the history of his race; and he has, in consequence, succeeded in making his description of this gathering of the Greek commanders one of the most striking pictures in his history.

H. viii. 59.

“And when they had assembled, before Eurybiades put the question about which he had called the generals together, Themistocles spoke long and earnestly. As he was speaking the Corinthian commander, Adeimantos, the son of Okytos, said: ‘At the games, Themistocles, those who start too soon are scourged.’ But he, justifying his action, answered, ‘Yes, and those left at the post do not win the prize.’ On this occasion his retort to the Corinthian was mild in character; but to Eurybiades he did not use his previous arguments, to the effect that the fleet, if it left Salamis, would disperse; for in the presence of the allies it did not become him to accuse any one. COUNCIL OF WAR AT SALAMIS. He relied on a different argument, and spoke as follows: ‘The salvation of Greece is in your hands if you be persuaded by me to remain and give battle in this place, and do not yield to those here present who urge you to remove the fleet to the Isthmus. Hear now and judge between the two plans. If you engage off the Isthmus you will fight in the open sea, and it is highly inexpedient for us to put out thither, because our ships are heavier and fewer in number; and, again, you will lose Salamis, Megara, and Ægina, even if we are successful in other respects. For the Persians’ land army will accompany their fleet, and so you will be responsible for bringing them to the Peloponnese, and will place the whole of Greece in peril. But if you do as I say, you will find the following great advantages in my plan. In the first place, by engaging in the strait with few ships against many, we shall win a great victory, if the war takes the course that may be expected; for it is in our favour to fight in the narrow seas, just as it is in their favour to fight in the open. Again Salamis, in which we have deposited our wives and children, will not fall into the hands of the enemy. And there is this further advantage in the plan, and one by which you set most store. Whether you remain here, or whether you fight at the Isthmus, you will be just as much fighting on behalf of the Peloponnese; and you will not, if you are wise, attract the enemy towards the Peloponnese. If matters turn out as I expect, and we win a naval battle, the barbarians will never reach the Isthmus, nor advance further than Attica, but will retire in disorder: and we shall be the gainers by the salvation of Megara, Ægina, and Salamis, at which, according to an oracle, we should defeat the foe. When men form reasonable plans they usually succeed; but if they form unreasonable ones, the god refuses to fall in with human fancies.’ When Themistocles had made this speech, the Corinthian Adeimantos again attacked him, bidding him hold his peace, as he had no fatherland, and protesting against Eurybiades putting the vote for one who had no state to represent; for he urged that Themistocles should show of what state he was envoy, before he gave his vote with the rest. The point of this reproach was that Athens had been captured and was in the hands of the foe. On this occasion Themistocles spoke both long and bitterly against him and the Corinthians, and demonstrated that the Athenians had a State and country more powerful than that of Corinth, so long as two hundred ships were manned by them; for none of the Greeks could resist their attack.

“After this declaration he appealed to Eurybiades, speaking more earnestly (than before). ‘If you,’ he said, ‘remain here and play the man, all will be well; but if not, you will bring about the overthrow of Hellas. For the decision of the war lies with the fleet. Therefore be persuaded by me.

“‘But if you do not do this, we will take our families and go as we are to Siris in Italy, which is our land of old, and the oracles say is fated to be colonized by us. You, when bereft of such allies as we have been, will remember my words.’

“After this speech of Themistocles Eurybiades changed his mind. My own view is that he did so, fearing lest the Athenians should desert them if he took the fleet to the Isthmus; for if the Athenians departed, the remainder of the fleet was incapable of facing the enemy. He decided therefore to remain, and give battle there.”

There are very noteworthy points about this remarkable narrative. Despite his prejudice against Themistocles, Herodotus makes it quite clear that he, and he alone, was responsible for the fleet remaining at Salamis. Though the language of the story does not make it quite clear, the remarks of Themistocles which provoked the first retort of Adeimantos, seem to have been of the nature of individual exhortation to the various commanders before the formal meeting opened. Apparently, the first step in the regular Council of War was a statement made by the president of the question to be discussed.

Herodotus is at special pains to mention that the argument suggested by Mnesphilos was, of set purpose, not employed upon the present occasion.

It may be observed that if that argument had any applicability at all, it could only be to the Æginetans and Megareans, whose lands would be exposed to the Persian in case the decision to retire to the Isthmus were persisted in. They had just as much, if not more, cause than the Athenians had to wish the fleet to remain at Salamis, therefore the reason given for the omission of the argument, namely, that Themistocles did not wish to accuse any one, is highly improbable. Had there been any soundness in it, had it, indeed, ever been used, the Æginetans and Megareans would have recked little of being charged with a desire to defend their own homes, if the charge had supplied an argument for the carrying out of a policy which was a matter of life and death to them.

CORINTH AND ATHENS.

The almost vindictive opposition of the Corinthian admiral to Themistocles is not the least remarkable feature in the tale. It will be remembered that something of a like kind had occurred at Artemisium. When Themistocles, at the request of the Eubœans, advocated the retention of the fleet at Artemisium, it was not merely with Eurybiades, but also with the Corinthian admiral, that he had to deal.

It has been suggested that these tales, which were calculated in after-time to cast discredit on the behaviour of the Corinthians at this crisis, were invented at the period, later in the century, when Corinth was in the forefront of hostility to Athens. It is, however, very possible that the seeds of that hostility had been already sown, and were bearing fruit in 480. The evidence obtainable from the remains of this period which have been discovered in Sicily and in Magna Græcia, make it clear that in the latter part of the sixth and early years of the fifth century, of the great trading cities of Greece proper, Corinth and Athens divided between them the lion’s share of the trade with the West; There had, no doubt, been a rivalry between the two; but up to a certain point it had been of a peaceful character, neither party being strong enough to establish a supremacy over the other. Still, in the twenty years preceding the war, the changes in the coinage system of Sicily seem to indicate that Athens had been for some time gaining ground. That there was, however, no rupture in the peaceful, or even friendly, relations between the two towns is shown by the fact that Corinth actually aided Athens in one of her wars with Ægina by the loan of ships.

It is calculated that this loan of ships was made about the year 498.[156] Corinth, the Venice of Greece, was a trading state pure and simple; and trade questions must have had a preponderating influence on her policy. It would seem, then, that at the beginning of the fifth century she regarded Ægina as a more formidable trade rival than Athens. One cause for this suggests itself. The naval power of Ægina was at the beginning of the century superior to that of Athens, as the loan of vessels shows; and a trade rival is a much more serious competitor if backed by naval power than if working on the lines of purely peaceful competition. The next twenty years, however, brought about a complete change in the relative circumstances of the three states. Ægina had suffered severely in a war with Athens, which took place in the decade intervening between Marathon and Salamis. The naval power of Athens had, on the other hand, enormously increased from the moment when, in or about 484 the Athenians began to adopt the advice of Themistocles, and to devote the proceeds of the mines of Laurion to the building of a fleet, the like of which Greece had never seen at the command of any single one of her States. This is the probable cause of the original growth of that enmity between Corinth and Athens which was to bear fruit later in the century; and this may account for the attitude of Corinth at the time of the Great War.

Themistocles’ first speech consists of an argument; his second of a threat; but, as Herodotus points out, the second was delivered under the influence of the anger he felt at the injustice of the taunt which Adeimantos had hurled against himself and his countrymen. Never was anger more justifiable. The necessity for the removal of the population had been brought about by the fact that the Peloponnesian land forces at the Isthmus had made no preparation whatever to defend Attica during the time at which the fleet was at Artemisium.

One part of the argument is very striking, because it is, perhaps, the only passage in Herodotus which gives an indication of what must have been of necessity the case,—the dependence of the Persian army on the fleet Themistocles points out to the Greeks that, if they keep the Persian fleet at Salamis, the Persian army can never reach the Isthmus, or even invade the Megarid. More he does not say on this point, because he evidently assumed that his hearers would understand him. If the situation be considered, the only interpretation which they could pit upon his words was that the difficulty of commissariat would, under those circumstances, be an insuperable obstacle to the Persian advance. ORIGINAL AUTHORITIES. Their army, after crossing Kithæron, had left the rich lands of Greece, the plains of Bœotia and Thessaly, behind it. It might, indeed, have reached the Isthmus; but the maintenance of it even for a brief period in a region which could afford but little sustenance, and which was peculiarly inaccessible by land from the North, owing to the interposition of the great and difficult ridge of Geraneia, would become an impossibility.[157]

Map showing THE STRATEGICAL POSITION IN S. BOEOTIA, W. ATTICA AND THE ISTHMUS WITH PASSES OF KITHAERON, PARNES & GERANEIA

London: John Murray, Albemarle Street.
Stanford’s Geographical Estabt. London.

Note on the Authorities for the Account of Salamis.

It is impossible to enter upon the description of the battle of Salamis without giving some short explanation of the views on the subject which the author has thought fit to adopt, since they differ fundamentally from those which are put forward in the best-known modern histories of Greece. The historians of the last generation do not seem to have recognized that the details of the battle as given by Herodotus present any difficulty of a serious character. His account was accepted as correct, against all other extant evidence on the subject, which was treated as either worthless or of inferior authority.

Apart from chance references in other writers, which are either mere commonplaces or historically valueless, the evidence available is supplied by four authors,—Æschylus, Herodotus, Diodorus, and Plutarch. Those who adopt Herodotus’ views regard the evidence of the other three authors as being, for various reasons, unreliable.

In the case of Æschylus, the obvious objection is that he was a poet, and that all the evidence he gives is contained in the “Persæ.” It cannot, of course, be denied that this objection would, from the historical point of view, be a very strong one, were Æschylus merely giving a poetical account of a most dramatic scene, the description of which he derived from others. But when it is remembered that the poet was actually present as a combatant on board the Greek fleet, it is manifest that his narrative, though cast in the poetical form, cannot be ignored by the historian. One element in it, at any rate, must be reckoned with: the stated facts of the author’s personal observation. These are, indeed, few in number, but it so happens that they are of very great importance; nor are they of a character such as might suggest that they had been modified in any way for dramatic purposes.

The evidence of Diodorus is ignored by modern authorities simply on the ground that that author is so notoriously unreliable. That such is the case, no one who knows his work would care to deny; but it is a fallacy to treat the whole of his work as unsound, and to say, as has been said by one eminent authority, that whenever the evidence of Herodotus and Diodorus respectively differs on any particular point, that of Herodotus is to be unhesitatingly preferred.

In the present case, Plutarch may, for the most part, be ignored. His evidence is secondhand of the secondhand; and most details given by him which are not found in any one of the three first-mentioned authorities are either unimportant, highly suspicious, or demonstrably wrong.

The rejection of Herodotus’ account of the tactics pursued by the two fleets rests on two grounds:⁠—

(1) The evidence of the eye-witness Æschylus, which is quite irreconcileable with Herodotus’ description.

(2) Objections of a most important character which must suggest themselves to the mind of any one who has seen the strait, and might well be suggested to any one who possesses a reliable map of it.

In so far as I am aware, Professor Goodwin, in an article on “Salamis” in the Journal of the Archæological Institute of America, 1882–83, was the first to point out the serious difficulties involved, not, as he thought, in Herodotus’ account, but rather in the interpretation which later historians had put upon it.

As the main basis of his argument he enunciated the necessity of taking the evidence of Æschylus into serious consideration; he laid it down, indeed, that that evidence, in so far as it was plainly drawn from personal observation, must be regarded as superior in authority to any evidence on the same point contained in other extant descriptions of the fight. INTERPRETATION OF EVIDENCE. I venture to think that, in so doing, Professor Goodwin rendered a most important service to the study of a great chapter in Ancient History.

He further argued that the discrepancies between Æschylus and Herodotus are apparent and not real, and are due to a mistaken interpretation of Herodotus’ narrative.

It will be seen that I do not agree with the second part of Professor Goodwin’s proposition. My belief is that the modern historians have correctly interpreted Herodotus’ account; and that, so far as his evidence is concerned, the mistake is in the evidence, and not in the interpretation of it.

Though the detail must be reserved for discussion when the incidents of the fight come to be examined in detail, it may be convenient for the understanding of the problem involved, to give a brief sketch of the line of argument which will be followed.

It is generally agreed—in fact, the evidence is unanimous on this point—that the Persians drew up their fleet in some way so as to block the eastern end of the Salamis strait; though the way in which they did this is disputed. But the main points in dispute are:⁠—

(1) As to the locality of the part of the other end of the strait which they blocked so as to prevent the Greek fleet from escaping, viz. whether it was the narrow portion of the eastern strait at the point where it enters the bay of Eleusis, or whether it was the strait between Salamis island and the Megarid coast.

(2) As to the position of the Persian fleet, especially at daybreak, on the morning of the battle.

The scheme of the battle given in nearly all the modern histories of Greece, represents the Persian fleet as drawn up on the morning of the battle along the Attic coast, from the narrows at the entrance of the bay of Eleusis almost to the mouth of Piræus harbour, while the Greek fleet is opposite, extending from a point some way north of the island of St. George almost to the end of Kynosura (vide Grote, etc.).

I notice that this scheme has been adhered to in various histories of Greece which are either new or have been re-edited since Professor Goodwin’s article was published.

The objections to it which Professor Goodwin urged seem to me so strong that I am surprised that the scheme is still adhered to by great authorities on Greek history. The reason for this adherence I have not seen stated in print I can only suppose that those who retain the old view reject wholly the version of Diodorus, where it differs from that of Herodotus, and would hold that the latter is not contradicted in any essential respect by the, for historical purposes, imperfect account of Æschylus. Professor Goodwin lays down the canon that on any detail which Æschylus does mention, he is the authority to be followed, because he was an eye-witness. He further seeks to reconcile Herodotus’ account with that of Æschylus, with the result that he reproduces a history of the battle which is in nearly all essential respects that of Diodorus.

The thesis which I propose to put forward is that we have in the tale of Salamis one of the rare cases in which Diodorus has either obtained better information than Herodotus or made better use of his information.

The arguments against the old scheme, of which the most convincing have been already stated by Professor Goodwin, are:⁠—

(a) How could the Persian movement of cutting off be accomplished so secretly that the Greeks got no wind of it? (H. viii. 78; Plut Them. 12; Arist. 8.)

How could the Persians have slipped along the other side of the narrow strait in the night unperceived?

(b) Can we believe that the Greek fleet was allowed to form quietly in line of battle at the other side of this narrow strait, in the very face of the Persian fleet only a few hundred yards distant?

Surely the Persian fleet, being eager to capture the Greek fleet, would have seized the ships while the crews were preparing to embark.

(c) Æschylus, an eye-witness, testifies that it was only after the Greeks had rowed forward from their position that they were fairly seen by the Persians (Æsch Pers. 400).

(d) Æschylus, Pers. 443–466; H. viii. 76, 95; Plut. Aris. 9, concur in the statement that Xerxes landed a body of Persians on Psyttaleia, because he thought that it would be a central point of the sea-fight.

Such are Professor Goodwin’s objections to the old scheme.

NATURE OF ERROR IN HERODOTUS.

To the last I would add that Herodotus expressly describes the measures taken with regard to Psyttaleia as being synchronous with those for blocking the straits (viii. 76).

Of these objections:⁠—

(a) is strong, as being Herodotus’ own evidence; and it is on Herodotus that the old scheme must rely. The passages quoted from Plutarch are, however, manifestly from the Herodotean source.

Objections (b), (c), (d) seem to me unanswerable. As I read the narrative, the old scheme of Grote and others cannot stand in face of them.

In so far as my experience goes, I think that it may be demonstrated that Herodotus’ mistakes, in his military history generally, arise almost wholly from⁠—

(1) Misreading of sources.

(2) Use of defective or mistaken sources; not from the invention of imaginary facts.

His painful conscientiousness seems to be genuine, not fictitious. But, eminently unmilitary himself, he was peculiarly liable to misunderstand the information at his disposal with regard to military matters; and this, as it seems to me, is exactly what has happened with regard to his account of Salamis, and in the following way:⁠—

It is, of course, a commonplace of criticism to say that Herodotus gives us no account of the general movements or manœuvres of the two fleets on the actual day of the battle, save that he mentions that the Æginetan vessels fell on the Phœnician ships which the Athenians put to flight. What I may call the enunciation of my proposition is this:⁠—

This failure of information in this part of his narrative is due to the fact that he had already, in the previous part of it, used up his information on this point.

He antedated a movement made on the night preceding the battle to the previous afternoon, and further antedated the movements in the battle itself to the night preceding the battle.

It is curious and noticeable that, when this correction is made in Herodotus’ dating, and in the mistaken accounts of movements which the chronological error entailed, there is so close a resemblance between the narratives of Herodotus and Diodorus that they may be suspected of having been derived from sources which, if not absolutely identical, were close in similarity.

The fleet of Xerxes was now at Phaleron, in the bay lying east of the peninsula on which stood the town of Piræus. After spending three days at Histiæa, subsequent to the departure of the army from Thermopylæ, it had taken three days more to reach Phaleron. It is probable, therefore, that it arrived there shortly before the army reached Attic territory. Herodotus is of opinion that, despite the losses at the Sepiad strand, at Thermopylæ, at Artemisium, and in the Hollows of Eubœa, the net strength of the land and sea forces was, owing to the accession of reinforcements, not less than before these losses were incurred. For the numbers of the land forces he makes out something resembling a case. It is probable that the addition of the full contingents of Dorians and Locrians, and of all the Bœotians, except the Platæans and Thespians, largely, if not entirely, compensated for the losses suffered at Thermopylæ, great as they had been. But that the naval contingents of Karystos, Andros, Tenos, and the other islands, can have in any sensible measure compensated for the losses suffered at Sepias, Artemisium, and the Hollows of Eubœa, is plainly absurd. Herodotus has evidently, in his desire to magnify the force opposed to the Greeks at Salamis, forgotten the enormity of the losses he represents the Persians to have suffered in the two storms.

H. viii. 67–69.

It is difficult to say how much truth there is in the account given of the Persian Council of War held before Salamis. It could hardly be treated as serious history, were it not that Artemisia, a countrywoman of Herodotus, is represented as having been present on the occasion, and as having taken a prominent part in the discussion. She alone advised against the attack; but her reported speech is so noticeably marked by knowledge after the event, that much of the matter of it cannot be regarded as genuine. At the same time, it is plain that Herodotus did obtain from her, either directly or indirectly, details, whether true or false, both of what happened at this meeting, and of many personal incidents in the coming battle; and despite the exultation with which he chronicles the Greek victory, he is evidently anxious to record the wisdom of the queen of his native city.

DESCRIPTION OF THE STRAIT.

The theatre of the impending operations was the channel between Salamis island and the mainland of Attica, or, rather, that eastern part of it which stretches from the harbour of Piræus to the sharp bend which the strait makes beyond Salamis town. After rounding the promontory of Piræus, a fleet entering the strait would sail nearly due north. The island of Psyttaleia lies across the entrance, and being of considerable size (nearly three-quarters of a mile in length), greatly detracts from the width of the channel, dividing it into two, the western arm, between the elongated rocky promontory of Kynosura and the island, being exactly half a mile wide, the eastern, between the island and the mainland of Attica, being slightly more than three-quarters of a mile in width. After passing Psyttaleia the channel turns west at right angles, and now runs between Kynosura and Mount Ægaleos, with a width of about two thousand yards, contracting opposite the site of the ancient town of Salamis to a width of about thirteen hundred and fifty yards. The strait then once more turns at right angles, and goes due north to the bay of Eleusis, the fairway being blocked by the island of St. George, where it is only twelve hundred yards in width on the side towards Attica. Just before entering the bay of Eleusis it once more contracts to the width of slightly more than fourteen hundred yards. Taking a line down the centre of the channel, the distance from Psyttaleia to the narrows of old Salamis is two miles and a half, and from the latter point to the narrows at the entrance of the bay of Eleusis about a mile and three-quarters. The scenery in the strait is beautiful. Looking from the mainland of Attica north of Piræus harbour along the arm of the channel which goes westward, the deep blue of the water is contrasted with the brilliant yellows, reds, and browns of the somewhat fantastically shaped hills of Salamis; while on the right the pine woods of Ægaleos add a mingled dark and brilliant light green to the colouring of the picture. Behind the hills of Salamis the grey hump of Geraneia upon the Isthmus rises high into the air.

From Ægaleos, the view southward towards Psyttaleia is somewhat different in character. The island, which rises to a considerable height out of the water, occupies the central part of the middle distance. The easternmost of the two channels is seen at its full width. Piræus is in sight, and away behind it the somewhat featureless shore of South Attica stretches into an apparent infinity towards Sunium. The channel to the west of the island appears greatly contracted, because Kynosura, with its serrated back, almost overlaps the west end of Psyttaleia. Behind Kynosura rise the hills of South Salamis; and in the far background the hills of Ægina are in sight. Such is the scene of the great battle, as it shows itself in the present day.

H. viii. 63.

The effect of Themistocles’ speech at the Council of War was to persuade Eurybiades of the absolute necessity of remaining at Salamis. Herodotus believes, [probably rightly,] that the threatened defection of the Athenian fleet was what decided him to change the determination to which the previous Council of War had come; and, if Herodotus’ language is to be taken as it stands, the decision was his own. There is no mention of any further voting on the question. This decision seems to have been taken on the day but one preceding the battle.

The position on the evening of that day was that the Persian fleet was at Phaleron, while the Greek fleet lay at Salamis.

From the historical point of view, the critical point in the various parallel accounts of the battle is the description of the events of the next day, the eve of the great fight.

H. viii. 64.

At sunrise an earthquake occurred which was felt both by land and sea. The Greeks determined, in consequence of it, to summon the sacred heroes, the Æacidæ, to their aid, and despatched a ship to Ægina to fetch their images, which were deposited in that island. Other ominous events, less credible than the earthquake, are reported to have taken place at this time.

H. viii. 70.

It is to this day that Herodotus ascribes the first movement of the Persian fleet from Phaleron towards the mouth of the strait. He says that it put out towards Salamis, but that the day was too far spent for it to attempt to engage the Greek fleet before nightfall. THE MESSAGE OF THEMISTOCLES. It must be concluded, therefore, that he attributes this movement to the late afternoon. It seems highly probable that the very serious difficulties which are raised by the later part of his narrative of the movements preceding the battle are originally due to his mistiming of this movement. Cf. H. viii. 75. He represents it as having been made before Xerxes received Themistocles’ message to the effect that the Greeks intended to fly, and, therefore, as not being in any way causally connected with that message. On this point his evidence is in conflict with that of Æschylus and Diodorus.

Æsch. Pers. 357, ff.

Æschylus’ account is, in brief, as follows: A message came to Xerxes from the Greek fleet, and told him that the Greeks would, during the night, disperse and seek safety in flight. Xerxes, failing to discern the crafty nature of the message, ordered his captains, when night came, to range the fleet in three lines, and “to guard the exits and the roaring firths.” Furthermore, ships were ordered to make the circuit of the “Island of Ajax,” so as to cut off the Greek retreat.

Æschylus evidently attributes the Persian movement to the receipt of this message. But the most important point in his narrative is that he attributes this first Persian movement to the night preceding the battle, and not to the afternoon of the previous day. Had it taken place on the afternoon of that day, as Herodotus alleges, those on board the Greek fleet must have known of it. The movement of the whole Persian fleet to the mouth of the strait could not have remained a secret to the Greeks at Salamis, less than three miles from its entrance.

To return to the message: Æschylus describes Xerxes as giving his orders immediately on receipt of it, but bidding his officers wait till nightfall. This raises a certain amount of probability that the receipt of the message is to be dated to the late afternoon. H. viii. 75, 76. Furthermore, this very time of the despatch of the message is indicated in Herodotus’ account.

The circumstances under which it was sent are as follows: Eurybiades’ decision had been taken on the previous day. It seems, as has been already pointed out, as if the decision had been his own. If so, it is not surprising that there should have been a considerable amount of dissatisfaction existent among those commanders of contingents whose opinions he had ignored.[158] H. viii. 74. They were anxious for the safety of the Isthmus, and not without reason; H. viii. 70. for Herodotus states that a few hours after this time, during the ensuing night, the Persian army started on its march thither.

Another Council of War assembled. It was no longer proposed that the whole fleet should sail away to the Isthmus; that proposition, in view of the attitude taken up by the Athenians, could have had no real effect if carried, and the decision of the council was apparently that the Athenian, Megarean, and Æginetan contingents should remain at Salamis, while the remainder of the fleet went to the Isthmus. This, had it ever been carried out, could not have failed to be absolutely disastrous to the Greek cause; nothing, under the circumstances, could have been more fatal than the division of the Greek fleet at this crisis of affairs. Though no such decision is mentioned by Æschylus or Diodorus, there is every probability that the story is founded upon fact. Diodorus’ evidence as to the extreme state of panic which prevailed in the fleet at this moment is just as emphatic as that of Herodotus.

There can be little doubt that the design of the Peloponnesians was to transfer themselves from the sea to the land defence. H. viii. 71. For months past they had been fortifying the Isthmus, and by this time they had brought their defensive works practically to a state of completion, for they had employed large numbers of workers, and the toil had been continuous, day and night. They had also taken measures to render impassable the Skironid way, that most difficult coast road, which ran along a mere shelf of the precipices of Geraneia above the Saronic gulf. Why, instead of walling the Isthmus, they did not, after blocking the Skironid way, provide for the defence of the two other very difficult passes by which alone Geraneia could be traversed, it is impossible to say. THE PELOPONNESIANS. It may be that their own notorious incompetence in attacking artificial fortifications led them to over-estimate the effectiveness of this form of defence.

Diodorus mentions that the wall ran from Lechæum to Cenchrea, and that it was forty stades, or between four and a half and five miles, in length. That such a work would require a very large number of men for its effective defence in those days of short-range missiles and close fighting is evident. Still, the numbers requisite might have been supplied, had all the Peloponnesian states furnished contingents, and had not part of the available forces of those who did come forward been engaged on board the fleet. Argos and Achaia were unrepresented; and if so low a number as one hundred and fifty be taken as the average crew of each of the triremes furnished by the Peloponnesians, more than thirteen thousand of their men were, for the time being, not available at the Isthmus. It is highly probable the predominant feeling among the Peloponnesian members of the fleet at Salamis was one of extreme anxiety as to whether the force available with Kleombrotos at the wall was sufficient to defend works so extensive.

Of the three main authorities for the incidents of this time, it is Herodotus who gives the message of Themistocles in its fullest form. His account is that, on finding the majority in the last Council of War against him, Themistocles went quietly away and despatched a message to Xerxes.[159] Sikinnos was the name of the messenger, so he says—a slave of Themistocles, and tutor to his son.[160] Æschylus merely says that he was a Greek, and Diodorus does not mention his name or quality.

It is interesting to note the terms of the message. It represents the sender as being desirous for the success of the Persians. It then proceeds to give two reasons why the king should attack immediately: (1) because otherwise the Greek fleet would disperse; (2) because, in case of the Persian attack, a section of the fleet whose views coincided with those of the sender would attack the other. Diod xi. 17. Diodorus gives a brief account of the matter, and only mentions the first of the two reasons.

The terms of the message must not be taken to indicate the motives of the sender, other than his desire to induce the Persian to attack without delay.

A very little consideration will show that the reasons urged in it are not necessarily, either in whole or in part, identical with those private motives which led to its being sent. Still, no Greek who knew his countrymen at that time could have much doubt that the Persian authorities would be kept fairly well informed of the main currents of feeling in the Greek fleet. They must, for example, have been perfectly well aware of the dissensions with regard to the place at which the invasion should be resisted; and this knowledge alone would render Xerxes and his advisers liable to credit the plausible but exaggerated statement with reference to the length to which those dissensions had gone. It is purely an accident that the first reason stated in the message conveyed little more than the truth. Two dangers threatened the strategy which had kept the fleet at Salamis: (1) the secession of the Peloponnesian contingent; (2) the advance of the Persian fleet, or even of a part of it, to the Isthmus, without risking an engagement in the narrows. There is absolutely no reason why it should not have gone there as a whole. The Greek fleet could not have remained at Salamis had it done so, and would have been forced to fight at a comparative disadvantage in the open. The ultimate result might not have been different; but it would have been infinitely more uncertain. Both strategical dangers were avoided, if only the Persians could be persuaded to fight; and the long-headed Athenian had wit enough to hold out to Xerxes the two inducements which would have most weight with him,—the prospect of the capture of the Greek fleet, and the desirability of striking while the dissension in it was at its height.

PERSIAN MOVEMENT TO THE STRAIT.

Xerxes fell into the trap laid for him, and modified his plans accordingly. For the successful accomplishment of the new Persian design three conditions were necessary:⁠—the action must be prompt; it must be secret; the blocking of the eastern and western channels of Salamis strait must be carried out simultaneously. Even were there not more conclusive reasons for rejecting the time of the movement of the Persian fleet to the eastern strait as given by Herodotus, the fact that it would have conspicuously failed to fulfil the two most important of these evident conditions would render the accuracy of his statement a matter for serious consideration.

But this does not afford any reason for rejecting Herodotus’ evidence as to the nature of the movement. His description of it clearly identifies it with part of the movement which Æschylus and Diodorus attribute to the night preceding the battle. The identity is further confirmed by the fact that in all three historians no previous movement on the part of the Persian fleet at Phaleron is mentioned. H. viii. 70. Herodotus says that the Persian fleet, on being ordered to put out from Phaleron, sailed towards Salamis, and quietly took up its order in its various divisions.

Æsch Pers. 366, ff.

Æschylus says that Xerxes’ orders were that the fleet should put out after nightfall, and that “the close array of ships should be drawn up in three ranks to guard the exits of the straits and the roaring firths,” while others should circumnavigate the “Island of Ajax,” so as to close that line of retreat to the Greek fleet.

Diodorus is practically in agreement with Æschylus in so far as the latter goes. Diod xi. 17. The king, he says, placed credence in the message which he had received, and hastened to prevent the naval forces of the Greeks from getting near the land army. He therefore immediately despatched the Egyptian contingent, ordering it to block the passage between Salamis and the Megarid.[161] Cf. Plut. Them. 12. The rest of the ships he sent towards Salamis, ordering them to attack the enemy, and decide the struggle by a naval battle.

It is clear, then, that neither Æschylus nor Diodorus has any mention of a movement of the Persian fleet from Phaleron until after the receipt of Themistocles’ message; and Æschylus expressly states that the movement to the east end of the strait was made after the fall of night. Plut. Them. 12. As has been already pointed out, if it had been made during the daytime, the Greeks on board the fleet, among whom was Æschylus, could not have failed to know of it.

Plutarch, though unreliable as an independent witness, is in agreement with Æschylus and Diodorus as to the Persian movement being subsequent to the receipt of Themistocles’ message.

In connection with the blocking of the eastern strait an important measure was taken. H. viii. 76. Persian troops were landed on the island of Psyttaleia. Herodotus describes this as being subsequent to the receipt of Themistocles’ message. Æsch. Pers. 452. Both he and Æschylus say that the measure was taken in order that the troops there might save such Persians and destroy such Greeks as were driven on to it in the stress of the battle.

For some reason, then, the Persian commanders supposed that the island would play a prominent part in the battle as designed by them. It is impossible that they could have held any supposition of the kind, had their plan of attack been such as is described in Herodotus, for in that case the battle must have taken place several miles away up the strait.

Note on the Movement of the Persian Fleet on the Night before the Battle, as described by Herodotus.

Before taking the historian’s account into consideration, it is necessary to realize, in so far as possible, the exact nature of the difficulties in which, as a historian, he was involved by his mistiming of the Persian movement from Phaleron. He had failed to connect the movement to the east end of the strait with Themistocles’ message. Despite this, he seems to be aware that the Persians did make a movement in the night in consequence of the receipt of that message, and that part of that movement consisted in closing the western channel,—at some point or other near Salamis, he is led to think. He is also aware that this movement during the night, including the blocking of the western strait, was made after, and in consequence of, the receipt of Themistocles’ message. He had already, without knowing it, exhausted his sources of information with regard to the major part of this night-advance. What those sources of information were, it is impossible to say. The probability is that, in the form in which he used them in composing this chapter of his history, they were of a written kind,—possibly notes he had himself made on the subject of the battle, taken years before from the verbal description of one who was present at it.

Turning to his notes to seek for details of this night-movement, he would, under the circumstances, suppose, naturally enough, that the movements indicated in them as succeeding the movement he had already described, were those made by the Persian fleet in the night. Two pieces of evidence support this conjecture:⁠—

(1) In spite of the confusion of his description, arising from the misapplication of his information, it is possible to identify the movements which he attributes to the fleet during the night with the movements of the fleet in the actual battle, in so far as they are indicated from other sources.

(2) The complete absence in his account of the actual battle of any details of the general movements of the fleets is accounted for, if, as is suggested, he had misapplied the information which he possessed on this point,—if he had, in fact, used it up beforehand.

His description of this night-movement is given in the following words

“When midnight arrived, the west wing put out and made a turning movement towards Salamis; and those about Keos and Kynosura put out in order, and occupied the whole strait as far as Munychia with their ships. The object of these movements was to rob the Greeks of the possibility of retreat, so that vengeance might be taken upon them when cut off in Salamis for the battles fought near Artemisium.”

H. viii. 76.

He then recurs to the occupation of Psyttaleia.

“Persians were disembarked on the island called Psyttaleia, in order that, when the battle took place, as the damaged vessels and their crews would be for the most part carried in that direction (for the island lay in the line of the approaching sea-fight), they might save their friends and destroy their foes.

“These measures they carried out quietly, so that the enemy might not get wind of them.”

Any attempt to apply this description to the movement made on the night preceding the battle renders the passage absolutely incomprehensible. No useful end can be gained by discussing the difficulties at length. It will be sufficient to point them out, in order to make their insoluble character quite clear.

(1) What does Herodotus mean by the “west wing” of the Persian fleet? He distinguishes it from the ships about Keos and Kynosura. Where were their positions? Keos is not identifiable. Some suppose it to be an alternative name for Kynosura. But of the identity of the latter there can be no doubt. It is certainly the long narrow “dog’s tail” of a peninsula to the west of Psyttaleia, jutting out from the island of Salamis. There is an exactly similar peninsula at Marathon, which was called by the same name. This being so, the ships about Kynosura could only be the west wing of the fleet! How, then, does the distinction arise in Herodotus?

(2) This “west wing” put out towards Salamis with intent, according to Herodotus’ language in the next sentence, to prevent the Greeks from escaping by the western strait. If so, they must have occupied the narrows either at or just north of the island of St. George.

How did they get there unknown to the Greek fleet of over three hundred vessels on the other side of the narrow strait, which, as has been pointed out, contracts to a width of about three-quarters of a mile opposite to old Salamis town? Could such a movement on the part of a large body of ships have escaped their notice, even under the highly improbable supposition that they had taken no precaution whatever to prevent surprise? THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BATTLE. Is it conceivable that the commanders who had at the time of Artemisium sent scouting vessels up the Thessalian coast, and inaugurated a signalling system which extended probably from Skiathos to South Eubœa, would have allowed the fleet to lie at Salamis without placing sentinel vessels to observe the straits in their immediate neighbourhood?

SALAMIS FROM THE SURVEY OF ATTICA MADE BY THE BERLIN GENERAL STAFF.

London: John Murray, Albemarle Street.
Stanford’s Geographical Estabt. London.

(3) What did Herodotus suppose to be the position of the rest of the fleet which held “all the strait as far as Munychia”?

Attempts have been made to argue that his language with regard to the movement of ships “about Keos and Kynosura” refers to a blocking of the strait at about the line of which Psyttaleia was the centre. The object of this argument is, manifestly, to bring Herodotus into agreement with Æschylus and Diodorus.

But can this interpretation of his description be maintained, when it is remembered that Herodotus has already described a movement as having taken place the previous afternoon with a view to blocking the strait at that point? Again, Herodotus mentions Munychia as one end of the line of ships, and evidently implies that at the other end it came in contact with the ships which had been sent πρὸς τὴν Σαλαμῖνα to block the western exit at the narrows before the bay of Eleusis. In other words, it seems impossible to doubt that the interpretation which Grote and others have put upon his description of the position taken up by the Persian fleet on the night before the battle is perfectly correct. It stretched in a long line (κατεῖχόν πάντα τὸν πορθμὸν), from the bend of the strait at the end of Mount Ægaleos, along the shore of Attica to Munychia. This interpretation is furthermore overwhelmingly supported by his language in chapter 85, when he says:⁠—

“Opposite to the Athenians were the Phœnicians, for these occupied the wing on the side of Eleusis and the west. Over against the Lacedæmonians were the Ionians. These occupied the wing towards the east and the Piræus.”

The acceptance of this plan of the battle involves several difficulties which are of a very serious character. If such was the position of the Persian fleet,⁠—

(1) How can Xerxes have supposed, as both Herodotus and Æschylus assert he did, that the island of Psyttaleia would play a prominent part in the battle?

(2) How can a movement on such a scale have been carried out during the night, unknown to the Greek fleet on the opposite side of the narrow strait? Any one who has been to Salamis can only give one answer to this question.

(3) What possible protection on either flank would the narrow seaway have afforded to the Greek fleet when advancing to meet the Persians in this position? It must have been outflanked.

How, then, did it come to pass that in after-time the success at Salamis was ascribed to Themistocles’ strategy, and this not merely in the tradition of the battle, but by the commanders who actually fought there? The success of that strategy was absolutely dependent on the narrowness of the possible front of the fighting line.

(4) If such were the position of the two fleets when the fatal morning dawned, they must have been in full view of one another, at a distance of a few hundred yards, across the narrow strait.

Æsch. Pers. 400.

If so, how is it that the evidence of the eye-witness Æschylus is utterly at variance with such a supposition?

It is really only possible to come to one conclusion on the subject. As a description of the movement made in the night by the Persian fleet, this passage in Herodotus is wholly mistaken. He has almost certainly used in his description notes of the movements of the fleet made in the actual battle, for the very good reason that he had previously used his notes of the night-movement in describing a movement which he supposed to have taken place on the previous afternoon. Either he did not possess or he overlooked any note which he had made on the blocking of the western strait; and in order to describe what he knew to have taken place, as his reference to the arrival of Aristides shows, he stretched what was probably only a note on the advance of the Persian right wing in the battle, such as actually took place, as is known from other evidence, into an advance of that wing so far as the narrows by the island of St. George.

It is now possible to hazard a conjecture as to what he means by the “west wing” in his description of the movement. It is probable that when he used this term he had in his mind the position of the fleet as he supposed it to be, not when the movement started, but when the movement was complete; and it is noticeable that in chapter 85 he expressly speaks of the wing which would be the eastern wing in the original position, as the western wing.

THE MORNING OF THE BATTLE.

Occasion will be taken in discussing the details of the actual battle to point out how nearly Herodotus’ description of the movement during the night, when this exaggerated advance of the Persian right wing has been eliminated, coincides with such evidence as is extant elsewhere on the movements in the actual battle.

The movement of the Persian fleet seems not to have been completed until shortly before dawn on the day of the battle. Its position at that time appears to have been: (1) the main body was drawn up in a line across the eastern strait, blocking the channels on either side of Psyttaleia; while that island, between or in front of the bodies of ships at either side, was occupied by Persian troops;[162] (2) the western channel between Salamis island and the Megarid was occupied by the two hundred vessels of the Egyptian squadron. The fairway in this channel is quite narrow, as the depth of water on either side of it is not sufficient to admit of the passage of even the shallow-draught trireme. The Egyptian squadron would therefore be sufficiently numerous to block it effectively, though the distance of this part of the strait from the scene of the battle must have precluded all idea of the ships posted there taking part in the actual fight. The Persians thought, no doubt, that by sheer weight of numbers they would be able to force the enemy’s fleet into the bay of Eleusis, and so into the clutches of the blockading squadron.

H. will 78.

During the earlier part of the night, the Greek commanders, unaware of the Persian movement, continued to dispute on the question of the policy to be pursued. Themistocles must have known by that time that his message had had its effect; but, until the western passage was blocked, there was always the possibility of his plan turning out a failure. It may well be that he fomented this “wrangle,” as Herodotus calls it, in order to gain time. There is a partial conflict of evidence between Herodotus and Diodorus as to the means by which the news of the encircling movement was conveyed to the Greek camp. Diod. xi. 17. Diodorus says that a messenger sent by the Ionian Greeks announced the fact. Herodotus, on the other hand, says that the celebrated Aristides, who now for the first time appears on the stage of his history, arrived from Ægina with the news. The tale is a somewhat dramatic one, for the appreciation of which it is necessary to gather together the fragmentary evidence which is available as to the last few preceding years in the life of this famous Athenian statesman.

Herodotus’ introduction of him is brief, and certainly inadequate for a true comprehension of his actual position at this critical time. He speaks of his character in terms of the highest praise: “After inquiring into the character of this man, I am disposed to think that he was the best and most righteous man in Athens,”—a judgment which the unanimous verdict of his own and after-time confirmed. But of his previous career he says but little: he had been ostracized by the people, and he was an enemy of Themistocles. There is no mention of this ostracism having been withdrawn.

Plut. Them. 11; Arist. 8.

Plutarch refers to the incident at some length in his life of Themistocles, and more briefly in his life of Aristides. The ostracism seems to have resulted from bitter political strife between the Aristocratic party, of which Aristides was the leader, though not apparently an extremist member, and the Democratic party, led by Themistocles. This took place, it seems, in 482.[163] The time of the revocation of the decree is stated to have been “while Xerxes was marching through Thessaly and Bœotia.” It must therefore have taken place a few weeks at most before Salamis. Herodotus seems either to have misunderstood or to have been misinformed as to the exact political status of Aristides at this time. ARISTIDES. From what he himself says, it is plain that the ostracism had been withdrawn, though he does not mention the fact. Had Aristides appeared in the fleet in a purely private capacity at the great crisis, it might be conceivable that both he and his opponents tacitly agreed to ignore the purely political sentence which had been passed upon him. But there is evidence in Herodotus’ own narrative that Aristides was present in a high official capacity as one of the Strategoi. It is hardly credible that he could in any other capacity have entered the meeting of the Council of War on his return from Ægina,[164] still less that towards the close of the fight at Salamis he should have commanded the hoplites who were landed at Psyttaleia.[165] How could he command hoplites on active service unless he were a Strategos? Herodotus, for some reason which it is impossible to explain, seems never to have studied the system of command in the higher branches of the service which prevailed at this time in Athens. His account of Marathon shows that to have been the case. It is at the same time true that very considerable modifications of the system had been introduced during the decade which intervened between Marathon and Salamis.

Aristides’ action on his arrival from Ægina is somewhat remarkable. Though he entered the Council of War, he did not communicate his information, important though it was, to the meeting, but called out his great political enemy, Themistocles, and imparted his news in the first instance to him alone.

“Our political quarrels,” he said, “we must defer to another time; our emulation at this moment must be as to which of us can render the greatest services to his country. I tell you that it makes no difference whether we say much or little to the Peloponnesians with regard to their departure hence. For I say, from what I have myself seen, that the Corinthians, and Eurybiades himself, will not, even if they so desire, be able to sail out of the strait, for we are surrounded by the enemy. Go into the meeting and tell them this.”

It is not difficult to conjecture what Aristides had actually seen. He had come from Ægina, and evidently, in the course of the voyage, had narrowly escaped capture by the squadron of two hundred which had been sent round to the western strait.

His special mention of the Corinthians serves to emphasize what has been already said with regard to the attitude of that people at this particular time. They were evidently in the forefront of opposition to Athens.

The concord between the views which the two ablest Athenians of this time held with regard to the strategy to be pursued is shown by the nature of Themistocles’ answer to Aristides’ communication. He makes no secret to the latter of his having sent a message to Xerxes, an avowal he would not have dared to make had he not been assured that Aristides would agree with the motives which had induced him to send the message. They must have had ample opportunity for discussing the policy to be pursued. The return of Aristides from Ægina is not to be taken as his first appearance in the fleet since the withdrawal of his ostracism. One or two reasons may account for his having been to that island at this time; either that he had been sent in command of the ship which had been despatched to fetch the Æakidæ;[166] or that he had superintended the deportation of the Attic refugees to that place.

After imparting his secret, Themistocles asked Aristides to inform the Council of what he had seen, because, if he himself made the announcement, it would be regarded with suspicion. TRUE COURAGE OF THE GREEKS. This Aristides did; but even he could not persuade the Peloponnesians of the truth of his information, and the discussion in the Council proceeded until a Tenian ship, which deserted from the enemy, confirmed the tidings in a way that admitted of no doubt It must necessarily have been a brief space which intervened between the announcement and its confirmation, but it must have been a time of intense anxiety to the Athenian commanders. They must have realized to the full the immensity of the danger to which the fleet would be exposed did a portion of it sail away through the bay of Eleusis, and in attempting the passage of the western strait under the impression that it was open, become engaged with the powerful squadron there at a distance of many miles from where the main battle must take place.

It is, perhaps, inevitable that the tale of the fierce dispute which took place at this time in the fleet, and, above all, the continual application of the term “run away” to the proposals made by the Peloponnesian section, should convey the impression that the fleet as a whole was not animated with a courageous determination to face the danger of the situation. That impression is a false one. Taking the reliable evidence as it stands, it does not seem just to accuse the Greeks on board the ships at Salamis of a cowardly spirit.

The question was not one of facing the situation, but of where the situation should be faced. So soon as they found themselves in a position where dispute was no longer possible, all that might in the past have seemed an indication of a vacillating spirit vanished, and they faced the immensity of the danger with as true a courage as ever the sailors of any nation faced a foe. It was a moment of exaltation, which called forth all the best qualities of the Greek. Even Herodotus must bear tribute to the greatness of the speech which Themistocles delivered to his men: “Throughout contrasting what was noble with what was base of all that comes within the range of man’s nature and constitution, he bade them choose the better part.” And the speech was not without its effect, even if the account which the poet Æschylus gives of the feeling in the fleet he somewhat idealized.

“Then the whole fleet advanced, and one mighty cry was heard:

‘On! Sons of the Greeks! Free your fatherland!

Free your children, wives, the homes

Of your ancestral gods, and fathers’ graves.

Ye stand to win or lose your all.’”

No complete description of the various great tactical movements in the battle has survived. Still, it is possible at the present day, by dint of putting together the various fragments of information which may be gathered from the ancient authors, to form a conception of them which must be very close to the actual truth.

At dawn, on this eventful day, the Greek fleet lay where it had passed the night, close to Salamis town, probably in the bay to the north of it. The Persian fleet stretched across the broad eastern entrance of the strait, in a line running almost due east and west, with Psyttaleia near or in front of its centre.

From their position the Greeks moved out into the strait, and occupied that part of it which lay between Salamis town and the Herakleion. From Plutarch it is learnt that the Herakleion stood where the island of Salamis is separated from the mainland by a narrow passage. It must therefore have been on Mount Ægaleos, opposite Salamis town; and the Greek line was originally formed in the narrow neck of the strait which exists at that point.

The Persian position is defined by very strong evidence. Not to speak of that already quoted with regard to the occupation of Psyttaleia, which occurs in both Herodotus and Æschylus, certain statements of the latter and of Diodorus render it still more certain. Æschylus describes how the Persian ships fell foul of one another when they came into the narrows, a statement which Diodorus makes with still greater precision when he says that the Persians in their advance at first retained their order, having plenty of sea-room, but when they came into the strait they were compelled to withdraw some ships from the line, and fell into much confusion.

These details show that their position must have been, as already stated, in the broad part of the strait, just before the narrows begin; and it will be seen that the strait contracts markedly in breadth so soon as Kynosura is rounded. THE GREEK AND PERSIAN ARRAY. It is further made clear that they were not in any way round Kynosura, or in front of Psyttaleia, by the evidence of Æschylus, which shows that the fleets were not in sight of one another before they moved forward, though they came in sight of one another very soon after they began to move.

SALAMIS, LOOKING SOUTH FROM MOUNT ÆGALEOS, WITH THE ISLAND OF PSYTTALEIA IN THE CENTRE.

1. South-west Coast of Attica.

2. Point near Piræus Harbour.

3. Ægina.

4. Mountaains of Argolis.

5. Kynosura.

[To face page [392].

It is unfortunate that Æschylus makes no mention of the positions of the various contingents in either fleet. Evidence on this point by one present in the battle would have been of the utmost value. On turning to Herodotus and Diodorus it is remarkable to find that in so far as their information overlaps, they are in accord with regard to such details as they give of the Persian array, but not altogether so with regard to the order of the Greek line. With respect to the Persian fleet, they agree in placing the Greek contingent on the left wing, and the Phœnicians on the right of the line. Diodorus further mentions that the Cyprians were with the Phœnicians on the right wing, with the Cilicians, Pamphylians, and Lycians next to them.

In the Greek fleet the Athenians were on the left wing. According to Herodotus, the Lacedæmonians were on the right; but according to Diodorus they were on the left, with the Athenians; while the Æginetans and Megareans were on the right. In this conflict of evidence, it is almost certain that Herodotus is correct. The fact that the Lacedæmonian admiral was in command renders it extremely unlikely that his contingent occupied any but a prominent place in the line; and certain details of the fight indicate that the Æginetans were in the immediate neighbourhood of the Athenians. It will thus be seen that the most prominent contingents on either side were severally opposed to one another in the battle, the Phœnicians on the Persian right facing the Athenians on the Greek left, and the Ionian Greeks on the Persian left facing the Lacedæmonians on the Greek right.

The two fleets seem to have moved forward almost simultaneously. As the evidence with regard to the nature of their movements is somewhat complicated, it may be well for the sake of clearness to deal with them separately.

Before beginning the advance the Persian fleet was drawn up in three lines; but a totally different formation was adopted when the movement developed. Describing its appearance as it entered into the narrow part of the strait, Æschylus speaks of it as coming forward in a “stream” (ῥεῦμα) which can only refer to some formation in column, or in something resembling a column. Diodorus supplies the connecting link between the two formations, when he says that the Persians when they came into the strait were compelled to withdraw some ships from the line.

If the chart of the strait at this point be examined it will be seen that, after passing Psyttaleia and Kynosura, it not only narrows but turns westward at right angles. The Persian fleet had consequently to accomplish a difficult manœuvre of a double kind, namely, (1) to reduce the length of their front; (2) to execute a wheeling movement to the left, of which their extreme left wing would form the pivot. In so far as can be judged, what took place is this: their right, and possibly their centre, having reduced their front, passed through the strait east of Psyttaleia in some sort of column formation, and then wheeled to the left, in order to turn the corner of the strait, while their left wing marked time, as it were, in the strait west of Psyttaleia. This wing would be hidden from the Greek fleet by the somewhat lofty rock promontory of Kynosura. But the right wing passing east of Psyttaleia would come almost immediately into sight of the Greeks, and would present to them the appearance of the “stream,” which Æschylus describes.[167]

THE BATTLE SCENE.

The scene, as the two great fleets advanced towards one another, must have been one of the most magnificent that the world has ever beheld. History can hardly present a parallel of a naval battle on such a scale as Salamis, and none in which fleets so large have operated in so comparatively confined a space. More than 2000 years later the neighbouring Corinthian gulf was destined to be the scene of a sea-fight which in respect to grandeur and picturesqueness most nearly compared with Salamis, when Don John of Austria defeated the great Turkish fleet in those waters which, later on in this very century, were to be rendered famous by the exploits of the great Athenian admiral, Phormio. In both these battles East and West met in one momentous struggle for the command of the Mediterranean—it may perhaps be said, without exaggeration, for the command of the world; and in both the East succumbed so completely that the loser never recovered from his defeat. Impossible as it is fully to realize the scenic effect of a battle of such ancient date, the records of which are imperfect, yet the area in which it was fought is so comparatively limited and so well defined, that the traveller who visits the spot can bring the scene before his imagination in a way that is impossible in the case of most of the great fights of ancient history. Would that the description of it had come down to the modern world from the pen of him who described the last fight in the great harbour of Syracuse! It was indeed a theme for that consummate artist in language. The impression of magnitude which it conveyed to those who were present at it is evident from the pages of Æschylus, where it is described with the grand breadth of description due to a battle of giants. But the historian wants more than he finds therein, and cannot but feel that Thucydides was born half a century too late.

The evolution which the Persian fleet had to carry out in turning the corner of the strait would have been difficult under any circumstances. It was further complicated by the contraction of the sea-room after the corner was turned, and by the necessity of performing it in face of a powerful hostile fleet within comparatively short striking-distance. The result was that the fleet fell into considerable confusion. Both Æschylus and Diodorus testify to this fact. Diodorus’ account is peculiarly consistent with the topographical circumstances. He says, as has been already noticed, that the Persians in their advance at first retained their order, having plenty of sea-room; but when they came to the strait, they were compelled to withdraw some ships from the line, and fell into much confusion.

The two fleets were now advancing rapidly to one another in the straight channel which runs east from old Salamis town, of which the breadth is 2000 yards. The actual fairway may be about one mile in width. How much space in the line was allowed for each trireme in battle array is not known, but it can hardly have been less than sixty feet; and, if so, the utmost number of vessels in the front line of either fleet cannot have exceeded ninety. Both fleets must, therefore, in this order of advance, have been several lines deep. There was no room for the employment of sea-tactics other than those of the most simple kind. The battle must have been, from beginning to end, a terrific mêlée whose issue would depend on which side could fight hardest and longest. The circumstances were all in favour of the smaller fleet. THE BEGINNING OF THE ENGAGEMENT. The mere superiority of the armament of its crews must have gone far to decide the result, and the superior weight of its individual vessels could not fail to tell in a combat of this character. With the knowledge born after the event, it is easy to see that, despite the inferiority of numbers, the better-armed fleet must have won the day, provided both fought with equal courage; and the obstinate nature of the battle shows that, though there may have been cases of cowardice on both sides, these were the exception and not the rule.

The actual point of contact was, in all probability, north of and towards the eastern extremity of Kynosura.

From certain details which are given of the fighting, there is strong reason to suppose that the two fleets, either from accident or from design, were in somewhat of an échelon formation when the first contact took place. Æschylus says that the Greek right wing led the advance, and the remainder came behind. Æschylus also mentions,—and his evidence on this point is supported by Herodotus,—that a Greek ship began the battle by attacking a Phœnician vessel. As the Phœnicians were on the Persian right, this ship must have belonged to the Athenian contingent, which was on the Greek left; and the only conclusion to be drawn is that, despite the advanced position of the Greek right, the first contact took place at the opposite end of their line; in other words, the Persian right must have been equally in advance of its line. The wheeling movement, as has been already noticed, had not been a success; and the Persian vessels which passed through the strait east of Psyttaleia, and were on the outside of the movement, had got in front of that part of the fleet which passed through the channel west of the island, and formed its pivot. It is not difficult to perceive what happened. This eastern column of vessels had entered the narrow part of the strait with so extended a front that, when the time came for the western column to wheel into line with them, it was left with too little sea-room; confusion resulted, and the advance of the Persian left wing was delayed. It was no doubt the undue advance of the Persian right wing which made it possible for the Æginetans later in the battle to fall upon the flank of the Phœnician contingent, and to deal the blow which was subsequently regarded as being largely responsible for the victory won.

Of the picturesque individual details of the fight, but few, considering its magnitude, have survived; and these are not in all cases reliable. Yet it is possible, by comparing and collating the fragmentary accounts of the actual fighting, to form a general idea of its most striking incidents.

There must have been many interested spectators of the action, Persians on the mainland and Athenians on Salamis island, whose feelings must have resembled those with which the Athenian army watched the battle in the great harbour of Syracuse more than sixty years later.

Not the least interested of these onlookers was the Great King himself. Surrounded by some of his chief men, he took his seat on the slope of Mount Ægaleos above the Herakleion, at a point where, as Plutarch remarks, the strait contracts in width. He must have been stationed nearly opposite the town of Salamis, among the sparse pinewood which probably then, as now, covered the slope of the hill.

The Persian fleet seems never to have had the opportunity of recovering from the confusion into which it had fallen in the course of the wheeling movement. Plutarch says, moreover, that Themistocles had reckoned that the early morning wind, which raises somewhat of a sea in the strait, would have a much greater effect on the Persian vessels, which stood high in the water, than on the Greek ships. It would tend to throw them into confusion, and thus expose their sides to the charge of the hostile ships.[168]

THE BATTLE.

Of the form which the confusion took during the battle there is also a certain amount of evidence. The front ranks of the Persian fleet seem to have been unduly compressed laterally by the want of sea-room, and longitudinally by the pressure of the ranks behind them; and the confusion due to the last of these causes was much increased when the beaten front ranks were forced back on those in rear. The fleet was, indeed, too large for the area of operations, and some of the rearmost ranks apparently, at a period in the battle which is not mentioned, finding they could take no part in the fighting, backed and retreated to the broader part of the strait, south of Psyttaleia. The consequence was, according to Plutarch, that in the actual fighting the Greek fleet was not outnumbered; and this may well have been the case.

Little is said of the actual mode of attack employed by the Greek vessels; but, from what is related, it would appear that the Athenians, at any rate, relying on the structural strength of their ships, sought to ram the enemy with their bows, or shaved close past them in such a way as to break the oars on one side, and so render their vessels unmanageable for the time being; and then made use of the opportunity to charge them sideways at their weakest point. Boarding must, in many cases, have been resorted to, for which purpose thirty-six men were available on the Attic vessels,—eighteen marines, fourteen hoplites, and four bowmen. It may be conjectured that any superiority which the Persians possessed in respect to their crews would consist in the higher efficiency of their bowmen, javelinmen, and such-like. It was, therefore, greatly to the advantage of the Greeks that the confinement of the space within which the action was fought rendered it not merely possible, but necessary, to fight at close quarters. A rather striking instance of what might have happened in this respect, had the sea-room been somewhat greater, is related by Herodotus. It occurred probably towards the end of the battle, when the retreat of many of the Persian ships had relieved the pressure in the strait. A Samothracian craft had sunk or waterlogged an Athenian ship, when it was itself attacked and waterlogged by an Æginetan vessel. Despite its desperate situation, its crew, which consisted of javelinmen, cleared the decks of its assailant with their weapons, and took the ship. The whole incident runs so entirely counter to Herodotus’ marked partiality for the Athenians, that there is no reason to doubt its genuineness.

The main credit for the victory seems to have been adjudged by the verdict of contemporaries to the Athenians and Æginetans. Such, at any rate, is the account of the historian; and the juxtaposition in the roll of fame of these two Hellenic peoples, who were destined to play an antagonistic part in the history of the next twenty years, renders it probable that the verdict of the men of their own time has been faithfully reported. There is little reason to doubt that their contingents were next to one another in the Greek line of battle, and were partners in a brilliant tactical movement against that portion of the Persian fleet which was regarded as most formidable, the Phœnician contingent. Herodotus says that while the Athenians pressed hard on the vessels opposed to them, the Æginetans, presumably on the flank, assailed these vessels of the Persian fleet as they were driven back. It is, perhaps, possible to understand what happened on this wing of the battle. It has been shown that in the course of the advance the Phœnician contingent on the Persian right must have got in front of the rest of the line, a mistake which it would be impossible to correct in a battle fought under circumstances such as those which prevailed at Salamis. Its flank would then be exposed to attack while it was assailed in front, and of this the Æginetans seem to have taken advantage.

It was in the course of this engagement that the Æginetans captured that vessel of the enemy which had a few weeks before captured their own scouting vessel on the Thessalian coast.

THE IONIANS AT SALAMIS.

Meanwhile the battle in the centre and on the Greek right had been of a much more even character. It may even be suspected that in that part the combat was going against the Greeks. The Greek right was indeed in the same disadvantageous position as the Persian right: it had advanced in front of the rest of the line, and thus exposed itself to a flank attack. No details of what actually took place are extant; but it is evident that the Ionian Greeks who opposed the Lacedæmonians and other Greek contingents at this part of the line did not get the worst of it. Herodotus who, as he shows in the account of the Ionian revolt, had a very low opinion of Ionian courage and intelligence, was not in the least likely to praise them unless the praise was notoriously merited. He not merely admits, but says with some emphasis, that they showed no lack of courage and determination in the fight. Any effect which Themistocles’ appeal might have had upon them was certainly not apparent at Salamis. He further remarks that he knows the names of many of their captains who took Greek vessels, of whom he will only mention the two Samians, Theomestor, who was made by the Persians tyrant of Samos for his services, and Phylakos, who was enrolled on the list of the king’s “benefactors,” and given a grant of much land. These significant statements make it clear that in the early part of the battle, at any rate, the Greek right wing had the worst of the fight. More than that, they suggest a very probable reason for the somewhat surprising courage and determination with which these Ionians fought against their kinsmen. Whatever may have been the feelings of the Ionians in general with regard to their countrymen over sea, their leaders were attached to the Persians by strong ties of self-interest, and formed a philo-Medic party in the Greek cities of the Asian coast.

The ruling powers in these cities depended on the support of the Persian government for the maintenance of their position; and from their ranks and from those of their followers, in all probability, the officers, at any rate, of the Ionian contingent were drawn.

The Persian centre also seems to have at first made a stubborn resistance to the onslaught of the Greeks, and for some time after the Phœnicians and Cyprians had been defeated and driven back, the Cilicians, Pamphylians, and Lycians continued to resist, though assailed by the victorious right wing of the Greeks. But the struggle was too unequal to last; and they, too, were obliged to retreat.

It is evident that the wave of victory advanced from left to right along the Greek line, for now the Athenians, probably aided by the Æginetans, though the latter are not actually mentioned by Diodorus, joined in the attack on the right wing of the Persian fleet. The fight cannot have been very prolonged; the Ionian Greeks were obliged to retire; though, if the silence of history is to be taken as evidence, they did not suffer irreparable loss either in the battle or in the retreat. The mere weight of numbers against them rendered further resistance useless.

The battle must have begun somewhere about seven o’clock in the morning, for it was after dawn when the Greek fleet put out from the station it had occupied during the night. It came to an end in the afternoon, after some seven or eight hours’ fighting, it would seem.

It was presumably in this last battle on the Persian left that Artemisia, that queen of Halikarnassos whose praise Herodotus has already sung, performed the remarkable exploit reported by the historian. There is a somewhat grave irony about the way in which he tells the tale, as though, in spite of his admiration for this lady, he were pointing a moral for those who might regard even the bravest of her sex as rather uncertain allies amid the excitement of a pitched battle. When the Persian fleet was already in disorder, evidently towards the close of the fight,[169] an Attic vessel pursued her ship. As she could not extricate herself in any ordinary fashion, owing to her friends being in the way, she stood not on ceremony, but made a way through her friends by purposely sinking a Kalyndian vessel. THE MASSACRE ON PSYTTALEIA. The captain of the Attic ship, unaware that he had a woman to deal with, naturally supposed that he had made a mistake, and had been pursuing a friend instead of a foe, and so allowed the brave but unscrupulous Amazon to escape. He had reason to regret his mistake; for the Athenians, either because they regarded her as a unique acquisition, or her action in commanding a ship against them as a unique piece of impudence, had offered a large reward to any captain who should capture her. Nor, if the whole tale be true, was the Athenian captain the most distinguished victim of the deception caused by her audacity. Xerxes was a spectator of the incident, so Herodotus says, and imagined that the ship she sank was one of the enemy’s vessels. As the rest of his fleet had by this time taken to flight, the incident, by its apparently strong contrast with the bitter circumstances of the moment, called from him the lament, “My men have become women, and my women men.”

It is probable that the Greek pursuit was not carried far, if at all, beyond the channels on either side of Psyttaleia. No information on the subject is given by any of the historians, but the fact that the Persian fleet left the troops on Psyttaleia, some of whom were persons of note, to their fate, indicates that they were not allowed to retire as far as that point unharassed by the victorious Greeks. It may be that each contingent considered it another’s business to rescue these unfortunates, but in any case the two channels must have been in undisputed possession of the Greeks when Aristides carried out what cannot have been the least bloody operation in a battle where the losses on both sides must have been very great. He had, while the battle was in progress, been stationed on what Herodotus calls “the promontory of Salamis,” which would seem to mean that his men had lined the shore of the strait from Salamis town eastward to the extremity of Kynosura, with a view to rendering assistance to such vessels or their crews as might be cast up there during the battle. When the strait was clear of the enemies’ ships, he collected his men, and transported them in boats to Psyttaleia, to attack the Persian garrison of the island. The slaughter must have been grim and great. Only those were spared from whom a heavy ransom might be expected.

No reliable statement survives of the losses in men sustained by either side. Those of the Persians must have been very large, and those of the Greeks in a battle of such a nature, and so prolonged, cannot have been otherwise than severe. Probably the Persian losses were never even approximately known, and, in the confusion of the time, those of the Greeks never accurately ascertained. Herodotus says that many of the Greeks from the disabled vessels escaped by swimming to Salamis, and that the total loss on the Greek side was not very great; but the very circumstances of the battle make the latter statement hardly credible. Among the Persian killed was Ariamnes, the admiral in command, a son of Darius and brother of Xerxes. He seems to have fallen early in the fight; many other prominent Persians shared his fate. Their defeat was not due to cowardice. Herodotus expressly says that they fought better than at Artemisium.

The losses in ships are stated by Diodorus to have been forty on the Greek side, while the Persians lost two hundred, not counting those which were captured with their crews. It is very possible that these numbers represent something like the truth.

After the battle each of the fleets retired to its temporary base of operations, the Persian to Phaleron, the Greek to Salamis.

In each of the two passages in which he mentions the retiring places of the fleets, Herodotus makes incidental statements of considerable historical importance. He describes the Persian retirement as having been “to Phaleron, to the protection of their land-army.” Perhaps he means that this was merely a part of their land-forces, the other having been despatched, as he has already stated, H. viii. 70, ad fin. on the night preceding the battle, on its march to the Isthmus. But if that be not the case, it would seem as if the march had been countermanded, and the army brought back in consequence of a change of plan.

Speaking of the return of the Greek fleet to Salamis, Herodotus makes it plain that the Greeks were inclined rather to under-estimate than to over-estimate their success in the battle.

THE CORINTHIANS AT SALAMIS.

They expected that the king would make a second attack upon them with the ships which still remained to him. To those possessed of knowledge after the event, it may seem strange that the Greeks should ever have entertained this feeling. It would appear as if they had been so stunned by the immensity of the struggle in which they had been engaged, that they were unable rightly to assess the enormous moral damage they had inflicted on the foe.

The details of the battle which are recoverable at the present day indicate clearly that to the Athenians and Æginetans the Greeks owed their victory; and to them indeed their contemporaries awarded the palm.

Of the behaviour of the other individual contingents nothing can be said to be known. Herodotus does, indeed, relate a story, which he expressly states to be of Athenian origin, to the effect that the Corinthians under Adeimantos retired from the Greek line, and began to make their way to the western strait, but were stopped by a mysterious messenger, who announced the victory of the Greeks; whereupon the would-be runaways returned to Salamis. Herodotus evidently places no credence in the tale; nor need the modern world do so. He says, moreover, that its truth was denied by all the other Greeks.

If it had any foundation whatever in fact, it may be that the Corinthian squadron was detached to observe the narrows near the island of St George with a view to guarding against attack from the rear by the Persian contingent which was known to be watching the western strait. As the tale stands, it can only serve as a remarkable example of the extent to which misrepresentation could be carried in Greece under the impulse of the bitter enmities of a later time.

A defeat of such magnitude sustained in the presence of Xerxes himself could not but lead to fierce dissensions among the various contingents of the Persian fleet. The Phœnicians, that trading people which Persia had always treated with marked favour at the expense of their rivals, the Ionian Greeks, had to justify to their master the fact that they had been the first to retire, whereas the Ionians had resisted to the last. If Herodotus is to be believed, H. viii. 90; D. xi. 19. they adopted the bold line of accusing the Greek contingents of cowardice in the fight. This charge, said to have been made while the fight was in progress, was immediately refuted by the gallantry of the Samothracian crew in capturing the Æginetan ship which had disabled their vessel. The accusers were executed; and, if Diodorus’ story be true, the Phœnicians were so alarmed at the prospect of what might happen to them from the angry Xerxes that, after retiring to Phaleron in the afternoon, they fled in a body under cover of night to the Asian coast. As, however, no trace of such a detail is found in any other historian, and their statements are wholly inconsistent with it, it cannot be regarded as serious history.

It was not, perhaps, until after the war was over that the Greeks acquired sufficient perspective to gauge aright the full significance of their victory on this day. It absolutely destroyed the very foundation of the great strategical plan on which the invasion had been conducted—the combined action of the fleet and army.[170] Never, perhaps, has the influence of sea-power been more strikingly exemplified in warfare than in the total reverse of circumstances which resulted from Salamis. Up to this time the naval power of Persia had been supreme in the Ægean and Eastern Mediterranean for many years past; and the attempt which the Ionians had made to break it at Ladé had by the completeness of its failure merely served to establish it on a firmer basis. But from Salamis onward the decline was rapid, and the Persian navy was never again as an unaided unit formidable in the Ægean.

Salamis was also decisive of the war in which it was fought. Having lost the command of the sea, the Persians could not possibly maintain, in a poor country such as Greece, the overwhelming land force with which they had invaded it. The mere question of supplies rendered the rapid withdrawal of the major part of it an imperative necessity. MARATHON, SALAMIS, AND PLATÆA. Persia did not, indeed, give up the struggle, but she was obliged to continue it with a force so reduced in numbers that the Greeks were able to match it in fighting, if not in actual numerical strength. Salamis was the turning-point of the war. Platæa was the consummation of Salamis. After Salamis Southern Greece was safe. Mardonius might have maintained himself for some time in the rich lands of Bœotia, he might even have attempted to include that region within the imperial frontier, but he could not have carried on a sustained campaign in the poor districts to the south of the line of Kithæron-Parnes line. The salvation of the North was won at Platæa.

In consideration of the circumstances, is it presumptuous to hazard the opinion that Sir Edward Creasy was not wholly justified in preferring Marathon to Salamis as one of the “fifteen decisive battles of the World”? The decisive battles exemplified in his book are, with the exception of Marathon, chosen apparently as marking the time at which the tide of affairs of world-wide moment definitely turned to an uninterrupted ebb or flow. But they are in nearly every case the outcome of a chain of events extending, in many instances, over a series of preceding years. If the first link in the chain is to be regarded as decisive of the whole series of events, then, perhaps, the choice of Marathon may be justified; but, on the same principle of choice, the decisive battles of the world would have in many cases to be sought for in comparatively obscure engagements. But if, as is the case with most of the instances Sir Edward Creasy adduces, the supreme decisive moment in a great situation is to be taken, then Salamis, not Marathon, is to be chosen in the great Persian war of the first quarter of the fifth century. The actual records of the time conspicuously fail to support the view that from Marathon onward the tide of the struggle with Persia flowed uninterruptedly in favour of the Greeks.

CHAPTER X.
FROM SALAMIS TO PLATÆA.

After the defeat of Salamis, the position of the whole Persian expedition was one of extreme danger. The command of the sea had been lost for the time being, and the chances of its recovery were remote. A fleet which had been so severely handled was not likely to fight so well on a second occasion, even if it were possible to induce it to assume once more the offensive. It was infinitely more probable that the Greeks, who had hitherto acted almost entirely on the defensive, would now realize that they were in a position to become the attacking party. The question of the moment seemed to be how the Persian naval force could make good its retreat without exposing itself to further, and, it might be, irreparable, disaster. Xerxes, with the characteristic selfishness of a despot, seems to have concerned himself with making his own escape secure, and to have merely troubled himself about that of the fleet in so far as his own safety was dependent upon it. He had reason to doubt the loyalty of the Ionian contingent. It had, indeed, fought well in the battle; but the reverse which had been experienced would inevitably tend to quicken whatever element of disloyalty it contained. His main anxiety was for the bridge across the Hellespont.

The account which Herodotus gives of the measures which he took to give the Greeks the impression that he meditated a second attack, and to hide his intention to retreat, is of so strange a character that it has been largely discredited by modern authorities. PERSIAN COUNCIL OF WAR. H. viii. 97. “He set to work,” says the historian, “to carry a mole across to Salamis, and he tied Phœnician merchant-ships together, to act as pontoons, and as a defence. He further prepared for battle, as though about to fight a second sea-fight.” These preparations, so it is said, deceived all his own people save Mardonius, who, knowing his master well, was not under any illusion as to his real intentions.[171]

H. viii. 100.

The evident alarm and despair with which Xerxes regarded the situation rendered Mardonius uneasy. An adviser whose counsels had ended in disaster,—and he was mainly responsible for persuading the king to undertake the great expedition,—might well be anxious as to the consequences which the failure might have for himself. Whether Herodotus had any real authority for his account of the advice which he represents Mardonius to have given Xerxes at this time, may perhaps be suspected; but the main outlines of it are worth quoting, even if they only reproduce what some contemporary Greek imagined that advice to have been. He is represented, in the first place, as seeking to minimize the disaster by arguing that it had only fallen upon one branch of the service, and that the land-army was in no wise impaired in efficiency by what had happened. If he did actually use this argument, he can only have used it because he thought that it was a sufficiently good one for the man to whom he was speaking. He had himself commanded the expedition of 492; and though on a much smaller scale, that venture had been brought to a premature conclusion by the storm which wrecked his fleet off Mount Athos. Mardonius was the last man who ought to have deceived himself as to the significance of the disaster at Salamis. Two courses, he said, were still open,—either to march with the whole army against the Peloponnese, or for Xerxes to withdraw with the major part of the land-forces, and leave him three hundred thousand men wherewith to complete the conquest of Greece. Such is the advice as reported. Whether a march on Peloponnese was possible at this time cannot be said, since the state of the Persian supplies is not known. In any case, Xerxes had no stomach for such a venture, and adopted the alternative suggestion, which offered a greater chance of security to his all-important self. H. viii 102. Moreover, this was the view of the matter which the astute Artemisia, whom he called into counsel, put before him.[172]

It must of necessity remain a matter for doubt whether Mardonius ever gave such advice. The retirement of the fleet to the Asian coast would give the Greeks the naval command of their side of the Ægean, and, that being so, the real line of communications was lost, and the alternative route by land along the North Ægean would be, even if it could be regarded as effective, liable to be cut by an attack from the sea. On the other hand, it is possible that he reckoned that he might maintain himself for some months, even for a year, on the food-resources of Thessaly and Bœotia; and in that space of time much might happen to reverse the ill-fortune of the moment. Besides all this, even if the conquest of Greece as a whole could not be effected, there did remain the possibility of advancing the Persian frontier south from Macedonia even as far as Kithæron, and of robbing Greece of her richest lands. That the Greeks feared something of this kind is shown by their subsequent advance to Platæa. That move was so inconsistent with the whole plan on which they had conducted the campaign on land, that it can only be accounted for on the hypothesis that they were actuated by some such fear.

THEMISTOCLES AFTER SALAMIS.

But there were also political considerations of the very highest importance which could not but affect the decision of Xerxes and the Persian authorities. The acknowledgment of complete failure such as would have been apparent had the whole force withdrawn en masse to Asia, must have shaken to its very foundations the great composite empire which was held together by the strong hand and the prestige of success. But could Xerxes on his return report that a force had been left to complete the reduction of Greece, the magnitude of the disaster which had fallen upon him might be concealed, until, at any rate, he was himself in a position to take measures to provide against any possible commotion which might be caused when the varied population of the empire came to realize the extent of the failure which had resulted in an expedition in which it had put forth all its strength. Whatever the advice of Mardonius may have been, these considerations must have been present with Xerxes and his council when they met to discuss the course to be adopted in view of what had happened at Salamis. Herodotus shows, from the words he attributes to Artemisia, that he was not oblivious to the wider possibilities of the situation.[173]

His account of the events which immediately resulted from Xerxes’ decision is complicated historically by the reappearance of Themistocles on the stage of his history. The historian does not attempt to conceal the prominence of that great man at Salamis; but in the description of the actual fighting his name is only incidentally mentioned, and personal details of him are conspicuous by their absence. But the tradition of the events succeeding the battle contained several ugly stories, some of them, indeed, capable of diverse interpretation, but all of them capable of being interpreted to Themistocles’ discredit. These the historian has inserted in his narrative, with the result that he has introduced into it an element which must excite suspicion, and which makes it very difficult to disentangle that in it which is reliable from that which is not so.

H. viii. 107.

On the very night, it is said, after Xerxes’ decision had been taken, the commanders of the Persian fleet put out with all speed for the Hellespont, with orders to guard the bridge across the strait for the king’s return. It is not, perhaps, easy to see why so much store should be set by the bridge. The main point, it might have been imagined, would be to defend the Hellespont. Xerxes’ personal safety and his passage of the strait would in that case have been equally well secured.

One incident of the voyage is described which is intended to demonstrate the nervous state to which the Persian seamen had been reduced by their defeat. Near a place called Zoster, which is supposed to have been situated on the Attic coast the Persians mistook certain rocks for enemies’ ships, and fled “a long distance” before they discovered their mistake. The object of the story is evidently to emphasize the dramatic contrast between the confidence which preceded the battle and the depression which succeeded it.

The next day was well advanced before the Greeks discovered the flight. Seeing the land-army in its old position, they supposed the Persian fleet to be still at Phaleron, which bay would be hidden from their position in the strait by the high promontory of the Piræus; and, under this impression, they prepared to meet a second attack. It is remarkable, but quite evident, that the Greeks under-estimated alike the moral and material damage they had inflicted on the enemy. They show none of the jubilation which follows a decisive victory; and it must be concluded that the fight was more fierce and more stubborn on the part of the vanquished than any Greek historian has described it to have been. Then, says Herodotus, when they discovered that the fleet had sailed away, they started in pursuit, and proceeded as far as Andros without catching sight of it. This is not surprising, considering that it had, in all probability, twelve hours’ start. The statement that the fleet went as far as Andros, or even ventured to leave Salamis at this time, has been regarded with suspicion by some historians. QUESTIONS OF THE HELLESPONT BRIDGE. It is argued that with the land-army of the Persians still in Attica, the Greeks could not have ventured to withdraw their fleet from the strait, and have exposed the refugees on Salamis to attack.

But is it necessarily to be assumed that the Greeks did not leave any vessels behind to provide against such a contingency? It may even be doubted whether, after the withdrawal of the fleet, the Persian army had any means whatever at its disposal for the passage of the strait.

The short voyage to Andros was, no doubt, of the nature of a reconnaissance. It was manifestly important to know whether the enemy’s ships had definitely departed from Greek waters.

H. viii. 108.

On arriving at Andros a Council of War was held as to the plan of operations for the immediate future. Themistocles’ view was that the pursuit should be continued, and that the bridge over the Hellespont should be destroyed. Eurybiades urged, on the other hand, that if the Persian army were thus cut off from its sole avenue of retreat, it must remain in Europe, and would be compelled to develop a policy of great activity for the mere purpose of obtaining supplies. The result of this, so he thought, would be the gradual subjection of the land, and the destruction of the annual produce of Greece. He therefore urged that the way of escape be left open. With him, as might be expected, the other Peloponnesian commanders agreed.

Themistocles, finding he could not prevail upon the Greeks as a body to adopt his plan, then addressed the Athenians, who were, so Herodotus says, eager to sail at once to the Hellespont, and ready to take the risk of so doing upon their own shoulders. His address is given in what profess to be the actual words of it. So far from urging them to follow out their desires, he emphatically dissuades them from this course; thus, apparently, completely reversing the advice he had first given. The change of counsel is plainly explicable on the ground that what he considered to be the best course for the fleet as a whole would, he thought, be risky and unadvisable for half the fleet to attempt But that is very far from being the interpretation which Herodotus puts upon it. H. viii. 109. “This,” says the historian, “he said with the intention of establishing a claim upon the Persian, in order that, in case any disaster should befall him at the hands of the Athenians, he might have a place of retreat. H. viii. 110. In saying this, Themistocles dissembled, but the Athenians believed him: for inasmuch as he had, previous to the recent events, been regarded as a clever man, and his cleverness and wisdom had been clearly confirmed by what had lately happened, they were ready to listen to what he said.”

There can be little doubt that this tale is part of that unveracious Themistocles legend which Herodotus has woven into those traditions of the great war which he has followed in composing his history. Never is the animus against Themistocles more clearly shown; and in no instance is the absolute improbability of any single part of the legend more strikingly displayed. The tale is refuted by its context. Before starting for Andros, the Greeks had been deceived as to the movements of the Persian fleet, by observing the land-army in its original position. And yet, arrived at Andros, Themistocles is represented as actually proposing to cross the Ægean and cut off the retreat of an army whose retreat had not begun, and whose intention to retreat could not, if the story is to stand as it is written, have been known to him. It is inconceivable that any sane commander could possibly have advised the Greeks to attempt operations on the Asian coast at this stage of the war.[174] Again, the object proposed was manifestly futile. What good could have been attained by breaking down the bridge, had not a sufficient force been left behind to maintain the command of the Hellespont against the Persian fleet? Could not a strait no broader than many parts of the lower Danube have been easily crossed by means of ship and boat transport? If the Greek fleet were once entangled in that region, could the possibility the Persian fleet or of part of it doubling back to the European coast be ignored? THE “THEMISTOCLES” TRADITION. Above all, did the Greek fleet know whither the enemy had gone? A very few hours’ start would have taken them far out of sight. They had had that start; and all that the Greeks at Andros could have known with certainty was that there were no ships between that place and Piræus.

It cannot be doubted that this passage in Herodotus is one of a series of excerpts from a history of Themistocles composed by a hostile political party. The tale of the Council at Andros merely serves the purpose of a peg whereon to found the charge of trickery or treachery which immediately follows it. The verisimilitude of the story is to be further supported by knowledge after the event. Themistocles did in after-time take refuge with the Persians. Was he, however, likely at the very crowning moment of his life to have foreseen the eventuality of his being obliged to do so?

The story is so corrupt that it is most difficult to select from it the element of truth which it may contain. It is possible that a reconnaissance was made as far as Andros, and that it was decided to go no farther. It is in the highest degree doubtful whether the tale of Themistocles’ communication with Xerxes at this time had any real foundation. The proposal to break down the bridge has all the appearance of a rechauffé served up with a new sauce, of the story which connected the hero of the last great battle, Marathon, with the proposal to break the Danube bridge during Darius’ Scythian expedition. It has been suggested that he gave the information in all honesty, because he wished to get Xerxes and his army out of the way. No doubt he and every other Greek did entertain that wish; but it is impossible to see how the message, in the form in which it was sent, could further its fulfilment. H. viii. 110. The last words of the message, “Now depart at your leisure,” singularly fail to accord with the conjectural explanation of Themistocles’ alleged conduct. There is, at the same time, every possibility that Themistocles did, after the retreat of the land-army had definitely begun, urge the advisability of offensive operations on the Asian coast at some period not long after the battle; and it is probable that such operations would have been eminently effective. But in this Themistocles legend these proposals have been purposely antedated, in order to adduce them as evidence of the truth of Themistocles’ suspicious communications with Xerxes, before the latter started on his return journey.

It is quite possible, too, that the rejection of these proposals led to Themistocles’ resignation of the command of the Athenian fleet. It is difficult to account for it in any other way. High as party feeling ran at Athens, the Athenian citizen showed a distinct preference for entrusting his life amid the chances and changes of war to men of known capacity, and the Strategia was less affected by the storms of political contention than the other high departments of government.

Tacked on to this last tale is the story of the siege of Andros. The Greek fleet, it is said, after renouncing all idea of further pursuit, laid siege to Andros; “For the Andrians first among the islanders refused to pay money on Themistocles’ demand; and when Themistocles put forward the argument that the Athenians had come, having with them two great gods, Persuasion and Force, so that they would certainly have to pay, they answered that Athens was naturally great and prosperous, being blest with such excellent gods, but, as far as the Andrians were concerned, their land was poor as poor could be, and two unprofitable gods, Poverty and Inability, left not their island, but ever abode there; and being cursed with these gods, they were not going to pay the money; for never could even the power of Athens be more powerful than their own inability.” So the siege began.

Themistocles’ demands were not confined to Andros. Large sums were extorted, under threat of siege, from the islanders, of whom the Karystians and Parians are named, because they had medized in the recent war.

The whole language of the story suggests in the plainest possible way that Themistocles exacted these contributions for his own benefit. RETREAT OF THE PERSIAN ARMY. That such demands were made is no doubt the case. The bitterness of the feeling against the medized Greeks might well suggest that, as a punishment for their crime in taking up arms against their fellow-countrymen, they should be forced to contribute to the expenses of the defender of that which they had attacked; but to represent Themistocles as employing this fleet for his own selfish ends is plainly a colouring given to the story by the same hand that invented the previous tale of his relations with Xerxes.

Whatever may be the origin of the Themistocles legend in Herodotus taken as a whole, this particular section of it was almost certainly the creation of the aristocratic party, which was, be it said to its credit, the friend in after days of the subject allies, and therefore, apart from other political considerations of a more general kind, not likely to depict in a favourable light the first instance of the imposition of the island tribute, nor to deal sparingly with the man who might, with some show of plausibility, be regarded as its originator.

Another important question which suggests itself is whether this demand on Andros and these exactions from Karystos and Paros were made at this time, within a few days of Salamis. It is extremely unlikely that the Greek fleet, with only half of the danger at home averted, should have ventured at this moment to spend time over the siege of one of the island towns. The whole incident of the exactions looks as if it ought to be attributed to a somewhat later date.

H. viii. 113.

The retreat of the Persian army began a few days after the naval battle. Mardonius accompanied it because, so Herodotus says, he wished to escort the king. The campaigning season also was far advanced, and he thought it would be better to winter in Thessaly. His real motive in retiring so far north,—a motive Herodotus could hardly appreciate, even if he ever heard it mentioned,—would be to shorten the line of communications, especially for commissariat purposes. He had now no fleet upon which to depend. Moreover, Thessaly was a rich country, whose local supplies would go far towards satisfying the temporary wants of his army. There he selected the men who were to remain with him for the next year’s campaign. He seems to have chosen the best troops in the huge and motley host, Persians, Medes, Sakæ, Bactrians and Indians; and Xerxes made no objection. And then the rest of the helpless throng departed on its long march round the North Ægean, to carry to Asia a terrible tale of suffering of which but few details have survived in the Greek historians. According to Herodotus, three hundred thousand men remained with Mardonius. It is commonly supposed that this number is largely exaggerated; but unless there is a proportionate exaggeration in the numbers of the Greek army present at Platæa, the force which the Persians opposed to them there can hardly have been less than two hundred and fifty thousand in number. Mardonius probably retained with him nearly the whole of the really effective land-force of the original expedition.

H. viii. 115.

That part of the army which continued its retreat from Thessaly took forty-five days to reach the Hellespont. The misery of that time must have been unspeakable, and but few out of the many ever set foot again on Asian soil. The realities of a six weeks’ march of four hundred miles, in the case of a large force wholly unprovided with commissariat, must have been horrible beyond description. Starving themselves, they spread famine by their ravages wherever they went. In many places no food was obtainable, and then they ate the very grass by the way and the leaves of the trees. Dysentery was the inevitable result. The sick who fell by the road were left to the care of the natives; and, knowing the nature of those wild Thracian tribes of the North Ægean, it is not difficult to imagine that their fate must have been pitiable in the extreme. At last the survivors reached the Hellespont, to find that the bridge had been carried away in a storm; but they were transported to Abydos in boats. Not even then were their misfortunes over. Many of the starving multitude perished from giving undue satisfaction to their ravenous hunger.

H. viii. 119.

Herodotus, though he mentions two accounts of the matter, is of opinion that Xerxes accompanied the army all through its retreat. AN INTERVAL IN THE WAR. He rejects a tale to the effect that on arriving at Eion, at the mouth of the Strymon, the king went the rest of the way by sea on a Phœnician ship, and was only saved from perishing in a northern gale by the devotion of certain Persians who accompanied him, and who sacrificed themselves in order to lighten the ship. Apart from the tale of devotion, the rejected version is manifestly the more probable. Not to speak of the horrors of the land-march, the king’s personal safety may well have been imperilled in the midst of an army which had undergone and was undergoing the sufferings of his. To Hydarnes was committed the conduct of the remainder of the retreat.

H. viii. 121.

The siege of Andros turned out a failure. Karystos was attacked and its territory ravaged; and then a return was made to Salamis. It is evident that the Greeks themselves were at this time under the impression that the war in Europe was over, in so far as they were concerned; and eagerness of the Athenian section to carry the war into Asia, which Herodotus has antedated, may be ascribed to this time. The news that Mardonius had remained in Thessaly, with evident intent to renew the war next year, can hardly have reached Athens until several weeks at earliest from the time at which the retreat began.

Under this mistaken impression they began to wind up the skein of past events, and after their patriotic victory to discuss who had deserved best of their common fatherland. The gods had been very good to them, much better, perhaps, than they themselves realized; and it was to them that their remembrance first turned. To Delphi was dedicated a tenth of the spoils. H. viii. 123. After dividing the rest of the plunder, the Greeks sailed to the Isthmus to decide by vote who of all of them had rendered the greatest services to his country in the recent war. The result was unfortunate. Each general having two votes gave the first to himself, and the majority gave the second to Themistocles. Under the circumstances they thought it best to forego the decision; and the various contingents departed home to their cities.

In spite of this the admiration of Themistocles burst forth, and that in a most unexpected quarter. He went to Sparta, where such honour was paid him as never had been previously paid to any foreigner, and never was again paid up to Herodotus’ own day.

There are certain elements in the political situation at this time which make it possible that party feeling ran high among the Athenians during the period which now ensued. Plat. Them. [Arist.] Athen. Pol. The Areopagus, which still continued to represent all that was exclusively aristocratic in Athens and Attica, had played a considerable part in the measures which had been taken for the public safety; and if the recently discovered Polity of Athens, which is attributed to Aristotle, is to be believed, it had gained considerable reputation thereby. On the other hand, the man of the hour was Themistocles; and he led political interests directly opposed to those which the venerable council represented. It may be that Themistocles’ resignation of the Strategia was not wholly unconnected with these struggles. He does not appear in history as a man likely to under-estimate his own personal worth; and the discovery that, in the turmoil of party strife, the world generally seemed to set a lower value upon it, may have given bitter offence to his pride. Herodotus gives no detail of these political events; H. viii. 125. though his introduction to a story which he evidently inserts because it contained such a bon-mot as he dearly loved, shows that an attack was made on Themistocles immediately after his return from Sparta. Timodemos of Aphidnæ was the name of the assailant. He reproached Themistocles with having taken to himself an honour due to his country; and, apparently, thinking the remark an effective one, repeated it on more than one occasion.[175] Herodotus, who never discovered a lack of ready wit to be one of Themistocles’ defects, takes evident pleasure in recording the crushing retort: “The thing stands thus,” said he; “had I been from Belbina, I should not have been thus honoured by the Spartans, nor would you have been, good sir, even had you been from Athens.”

THE WAR IN SICILY.

This is the last of the series of events in Greece which can be attributed to the year 480, but before proceeding to recount the history of the following year, it is necessary to recur briefly to what had meanwhile taken place in Sicily. The brevity of the reference is not due to the unimportance of the events themselves, but to the meagreness of the surviving records of them. Herodotus dismisses the subject in a few words; and the scheme of history which Diodorus had proposed to himself rendered it impossible for him to devote much space to them, despite the fact that this year was a most decisive one for the history of his native land.

After the departure of the Spartan and Athenian ambassadors, Gelo of Syracuse had been left alone to face that great storm which Persia had stirred up in the West with the evident intention of preventing the Sicilian and Italian Greek from taking part in the defence of the mother country. It was more than fortunate for the Sicilians that at this most critical moment of their history, such power as they could put forward was under the control of one strong hand. The tyrant, or tyrant city, was indeed at all times in Sicilian history necessary to the salvation of the Greeks, face to face as they were with the great Carthaginian power in the west of the island, supported by a central base but a few miles distant across a narrow sea.

There is no question that the Carthaginian preparations were on a very large scale, Diod. xi 20. though the numbers given by Diodorus are certainly exaggerated. In her struggle with Rome, more than two centuries later, Carthage, though in all probability more powerful than she was in 480, could not muster aught resembling the strength which the Sicilian historian attributes to her on this occasion. He states the number of the land forces to have been 300,000. The fleet, he says, consisted of 2000 warships, together with 3000 transports. It is manifestly useless to attempt what, in the absence of independent records, can be no more than a guess as to the actual numbers. All that can be with safety assumed is that they were very large. The name of the commander was Hamilcar.

The gods of the winds were hardly less kind to the Greeks of Sicily than they were to their fellow-countrymen at home. A storm overtook the expedition in the Libyan sea, and the vessels conveying the horses and chariots were lost. Hamilcar, however, conducted the remainder in safety to Panormos. He had no anxiety as to the result now that he had safely transported the bulk of his forces across the sea. Doubtless he reckoned on having to deal with a Sicily such as Sicily had been before the recent rise of Gelo’s power, in which the great force at his disposal would have been able to crush the Greek cities in detail.

From Panormos, after repairing, in so far as possible, the damage suffered in the storm, he marched his army along the coast to Himera, the fleet keeping in touch with it meanwhile. His method of advance was consequently similar to that adopted by the Persians in their march round the Ægean. Arrived at Himera, he formed two camps, one for the army and one for the fleet. The arrangement of these camps is interesting, as showing that in the west, as in the east, the Greeks had to deal with a foe which, whatever his defects, was both capable and experienced in the organization of large expeditions over sea. The warships were drawn up on shore and surrounded by a stockade and deep ditch. The other camp was contiguous to the naval one, but ran inland to the summit of the neighbouring heights, to the west of the city of Himera, and facing it. Hamilcar thus secured his communications with his commissariat base,—the fleet. The provisions which he had brought with him he landed, and then despatched the empty transports to Libya and Sardinia to fetch a further supply. His plan was evidently not to attempt to assault the town on all sides. The loss of his cavalry would make it difficult for him to advance far from his sea-base; and, besides, he had to expect an attack from a relieving force. Having completed the fortification of his position, he took some of the best of his soldiers and advanced against the town, whose garrison came out to meet him, afraid, no doubt, of his establishing siege works in the immediate neighbourhood of their wall. It had, however, to retire with severe loss, a disaster which brought the Himerans to a state of despair. GELO MARCHES TO RESCUE HIMERA. But even thus early in the campaign the town was not wholly dependent on its own resources. Thero, tyrant of Akragas, who was content to play a subordinate part to Gelo in Sicilian politics, was either present in it, or,—for Diodorus’ language is capable of two interpretations,—in its neighbourhood, with a force whose numbers are not mentioned. Alarmed at the situation, and evidently not in sufficient strength to take the offensive against the Carthaginians, he sent an urgent message to Gelo to come with all speed. Gelo was ready, and the fact of his being so suggests that the defence against the invader was being conducted on a definite plan. Syracuse had evidently been chosen as the base of operations. Its communications with southern Sicily are both shorter and more easy than with the north. If the attack took place on the south, which was probably known to be unlikely, the central force at Syracuse would be within striking distance. It would seem, therefore, that Thero’s corps had been sent from the south to the north, where the attack was more likely to be made, to act as an army of observation, and to hold the enemy until Gelo could appear with the main army. The plan was a sound one.

Diod. xi. 21.

The army with which Gelo started from Syracuse is stated to have numbered 50,000 infantry and 5000 cavalry. He made a rapid march, and his arrival infused new courage into the Himerans. He did not enter the city, but fortified a camp of his own outside it, and started active operations by sending out all the cavalry to cut off Carthaginian stragglers. Hamilcar must have been at this moment in a position of great disadvantage, owing to the loss of his horses in the storm. The number of the enemy captured by this raid of cavalry is stated to have been 10,000; it appears, in any case, to have been large.

But Gelo had no idea of confining himself to a passive defence of the place, knowing, in all probability, that the enemy might expect reinforcements, whereas the Siciliot forces present at Himera represented the utmost effort of which Sicily was capable. The Himerans had walled up their city gates. He caused them to be opened once more, and infused a spirit of cheerful confidence into the whole Greek army. In all likelihood this change of feeling was largely due to the comparative inactivity to which Hamilcar was reduced in face of the large force of Syracusan cavalry against which, owing to his own loss, he had not any similar force to match. Something of the kind is indicated by the fact that he sent a message to Selinus, urgently demanding assistance in this arm. Unluckily for him, the return messenger announcing its despatch fell into the hands of Gelo’s men. That able commander had been for some time devising plans by which he might not merely defeat, but utterly destroy, the invading army. The intercepting of this message suggested to him a means of doing so. He had apparently already made up his mind that an attack on the naval camp, and the destruction of the ships within it, must be part of his programme. The disclosure made by the message that the Carthaginians were expecting cavalry reinforcements suggested to him the design of substituting cavalry of his own for the looked-for horsemen of Selinus, so as to obtain access to the naval stockade. It was a bold plan, but it was entirely successful. Not the least fortunate circumstance about the matter was that on the very day on which the cavalry were expected Hamilcar was going to offer a great sacrifice; and this was apparently known to Gelo. The Syracusan horsemen were sent under cover of night, and after making a circuit,—the Greek camp being probably east of the town,—arrived at the naval camp from the western side just about dawn, and were admitted by the guards under the impression that they were the Selinuntian horse. Once inside the stockade, they proceeded immediately to kill Hamilcar and to set fire to the ships.

But this was only part of the whole plan. Watchers had been placed upon the heights, with orders to announce by signal the arrival of the cavalry within the stockade. On receiving the signal, Gelo, with the whole of the rest of his army, began an assault on the other Carthaginian camp, which was, as has been seen, situated on the heights above the naval encampment. THE BATTLE OF HIMERA. The Carthaginian commanders, unaware at first of what had been going on below them, led out their men to meet this attack, and for some time the battle was stubborn and bloody, both sides fighting with great bravery. The increase of the conflagration in the camp below, however, at last attracted their notice, and the arrival of a message announcing the death of Hamilcar completed the dismay of the Carthaginians and fired the courage of the Greeks. The former gave way, pursued by the Greeks, to whom orders were given to take no prisoners. Though the slaughter was a terrible one, it is hardly possible to accept Diodorus’ statement that one hundred and fifty thousand perished. Some of the survivors fled to a bare height, where they defied all direct attack; but they were compelled in the end to capitulate, owing to there being no water obtainable on the position.

It was a brilliant and crushing victory for the Sicilian Greeks, so complete and so lasting in its results, that it marked the beginning of an era of peace and prosperity destined to last for many years.

Diodorus, with a pardonable pride in the exploits of his fellow-countrymen, draws a comparison between the victory at Himera and that which the Greeks won at Platæa in the following year. There is one important point of contrast which he does not mention, but which will be appreciated by those who are acquainted with the stories of those two great battles. The resistance which the Carthaginian troops offered to the Greek hoplite in close fighting was evidently much more stubborn than that offered by the Persian infantry. It was not a question of courage; it was not a question of physique. In these two respects the Persian was probably superior to the Greek, and not inferior to any contemporary race. The difference was in panoply. The African and Spaniard wore defensive armour, such as the Oriental never learnt to use because the climate of the lands wherein his campaigns were mostly fought rendered the burden of the weight of it too grievous to be borne. The resistance offered to the Eastern conqueror took the form of legions of cavalry and mobile bodies of light-armed infantry, and to meet them he had to employ forces of a similar kind. Against such, in a land of infinite distances like Western Asia, an army of hoplites might, if the enemy adopted tactics suitable to the nature of his force and to the nature of the country, be reduced to impotence, if not brought to destruction. The campaigns of Alexander are supposed to have proved the opposite to be the case. Those who take that view of them seem to forget that the enemy opposed to him adopted tactics wholly unsuited to the nature of their army, and fought the very pitched battles which they should have scrupulously avoided. Had the Persians in that war employed the tactics which three centuries later led to Carrhæ, the campaigns of Alexander might have ended in the neighbourhood of the Amanus. The military history of the East and West in the centuries preceding the Christian era is ruled by one great limitation. East could not gain any decisive advantage over West in the West, nor West over East in the East, unless the enemy made a fundamental error in tactics.

The resources of the East in light cavalry were out of all proportion to any number of this arm which the West could, even with the utmost effort, put into the field; and such a force, properly employed, must have always made the immense plains of the Euphrates or of Media untraversable to a Western army. In like manner, against the heavy infantry of the West, accompanied by a proper quota of light-armed troops, the light infantry of the East were helpless in regions where it could not be supported by its cavalry; and west of Taurus, such regions were the rule and not the exception. The eastern Taurus was, indeed, the military frontier between East and West.

This generalization may appear to be somewhat wide; but the results of every single battle in which East and West came into conflict support it. There are no exceptions. Such cases as appear to be so afford the strongest evidence of the truth of it: in every one of them the loser committed some glaring tactical error which robbed him of the essential advantages which the very nature of things afforded him.

GELO MAKES PEACE WITH CARTHAGE.

As a pure example of the military art, Himera did more credit to the victors than did Platæa. It was won by reason of a well-devised plan; Platæa, in spite of an ill-devised one. In its results it was hardly less decisive, though these results were not of a character to attract the attention of the modern world so forcibly as the after-effects of Platæa.

Its actual date in 480 is uncertain. Diodorus assigns it to the same day as Thermopylæ. Unfortunately, the historians of this period display so marked a tendency to discover such coincidences of date that any statement of this kind cannot be regarded as reliable.

Diod. xi. 24.

Of all the great expedition, only twenty warships escaped from Himera, and these, over-laden with fugitives, perished in a storm on the way home. The news of the disaster was carried to Carthage by a few survivors who managed to reach the coast in a small boat. The consternation which it excited was naturally terrible; and for some time the Carthaginians lived in daily expectation of the appearance of Gelo’s fleet on the African coast.

In order, if possible, to ward off the fatal catastrophe which, under the circumstances, must have resulted from such an invasion, ambassadors were despatched to Syracuse with all speed to make the best terms they could. In point of fact, the alarm on this particular score was groundless. Gelo seems to have been content to leave well alone, and to reap the fruits of his victory in Sicily, without attempting conquest over-sea. It is obvious that, had he been otherwise inclined, the history of the world might have been changed by the destruction or permanent crippling of the Carthaginian power.

The disposal of the large number of prisoners which had been taken was first provided for. They were distributed among the Sicilian towns. Akragas got more than her due share, because the fugitives from Himera, fleeing inland to the mountains, had ultimately arrived in the territory of that city, where they were captured in large numbers. The magnificence of the temples and public works of that great town was largely due to the employment of these prisoners on their construction.[176] That page of history which records Gelo’s reception of the Carthaginian embassy is obscure. The facts are sufficiently plain. He demanded extraordinarily moderate terms: a war subsidy of two thousand talents of silver, and the expenses of the construction of two temples. But why such moderation was observed by him at a time when he could without doubt have brought about the withdrawal of all the Punic settlements in Sicily, is not explained. Nor, in the silence of history, can any adequate motive for his action be suggested, unless he took the view that he would best secure a lasting peace by such a policy. The Carthaginians attributed his treatment of them to the influence of his wife Demarete; and it is recorded to the credit of a people whose good points are not, from the force of circumstances, brought into prominence in Greek and Latin history, that they showed their gratitude to her by the free gift of one hundred talents of gold. Gelo, having exhausted sentiment in the late negotiations, exercised the persuasion of a husband, Head. Hist. Num sub Syracuse. and appropriated the treasure to the establishment of that magnificent silver coinage which has excited the admiration of later ages.

Thus ended this brief but important chapter in Sicilian history. The Greek of Greece sought to ignore its significance; his posterity but half remembered it; and the great historian of the latter half of the century accepted the maimed tradition as he found it. But to the historical inquirer of the present day, who has all the evidence before him, this episode must appear not the least glorious part of the great struggle which saved western civilization.

H. viii. 126.

Among the troops who shared in the retreat of Xerxes’ army to the Hellespont, was a body of sixty thousand men selected from those which Mardonius had chosen. They were under the command of Artabazos, about whom and whose family Herodotus seems to have had special facilities for acquiring information. ARTABAZOS BESIEGES POTIDÆA. It may be suspected that this intimacy was due to the successive tenure in after-time of the Daskylian satrapy in Northen Asia Minor by Artabazos, his son, and grandson. The reason for his accompanying the march to the Hellespont was, so Herodotus says, that he might escort the king. It is more probable that the main motive lay in the organization of the new main line of communications along the North Ægean, with reference especially to commissariat. On his return from the Hellespont, he found the line threatened at one point by a rising against the Persian power, which had broken out in Pallene, the westernmost of the peninsulas of Chalkidike, and in the country immediately north of it, about the town of Olynthos. The desperate state of the king’s army in its passage by their territory had evidently given the citizens of this region the idea that the days of the Persian dominion in Europe were numbered, and that thus they might with safety throw off the yoke without further delay. The insurrection, though confined to this small region, threatened what was now the sole line of communications. It was imperative to crush it forthwith. This Artabazos set to work to do in the course of his return march to Thessaly. He laid siege to Potidæa, the chief town of Pallene, which stood on the narrow isthmus which connected the peninsula with the mainland, and, having walls from sea to sea, prevented all access to the peninsula itself to any force unaccompanied by a fleet. Its position was consequently one of great strength. Olynthos was by no means so strongly placed, but was of still greater importance to Artabazos, as more directly blocking the great highway from Asia. This latter town he took apparently without much trouble, and massacred its Bottiæan inhabitants at a lake hard by. He handed over the place to the Chalkidian Greeks, under the command of a native of Torone.

He then proceeded to blockade Potidæa on the side of the mainland, that towards the peninsula being inaccessible to him. The siege was marked by one of those attempted acts of treachery which too often blot the records of Greek courage. The commander of the contingent from one of the Pallenian towns, Skione, entered into communication with the Persian by means of written messages concealed in the feathers of an arrow which was shot to a place previously agreed upon. Unfortunately for the success of the plan, Artabazos on one occasion missed the mark, and hit one of the besieged in the shoulder. His friends gathering round him discovered the writing wrapped round the shaft, and carried it to the generals. The Skionian commander was, however, spared for the time being, lest the stigma of treachery should attach to his fellow-citizens.

The siege had lasted three months when an extraordinary ebb of the sea took place, rendering it possible for the besiegers to make their way on either side of the town towards Pallene. This phenomenon was not rare at Potidæa, so Herodotus says, but on this occasion it occurred on a larger scale than usual. It was probably due to one of those volcanic disturbances for which the Ægean has been ever noted. Had the Persians taken immediate advantage of the opportunity thus offered, they might have got into the town, but, probably distrusting the nature of what must have seemed to them a very extraordinary occurrence, they were late in venturing upon the passage, and the returning flow came upon them when but two-thirds of the way across. Those who could not swim were drowned, and those who could were destroyed by the garrison, who put out in boats for that purpose. How many lives were lost history does not say, but the disaster was sufficiently great to make Artabazos throw up the siege. The capture of Olynthos had made the road fairly secure.

H. viii. 130.

After its hurried retreat from the European shore the Persian fleet had made its way to the Hellespont, where it had awaited the arrival of the retreating army, and had ferried it over to Asia. Nothing could show more clearly the futility of the alleged proposal of Themistocles to break down the Hellespont bridge. From Abydos it sailed to Kyme, where part of it wintered, while the remainder proceeded to Samos. On the appearance of spring the whole fleet assembled at the latter place, not, says Herodotus, with any intention of crossing the Ægean from thence, but to provide against possible revolt in Ionia. GREEK COMMANDERS IN 479. The position was well chosen for that purpose; but, more than this, the island lay at the eastern end of the shortest and most used passage of the Ægean, where an almost continuous line of islands stretches from Sunium to the Asian coast, affording protection against northern and southern gales. If the Greek fleet should sail to Asia, this was the route it would most probably take. Herodotus says they did not expect its coming, because there had been no pursuit after the retreat from Salamis. It may be apprehended that the Persian commanders were better able than Herodotus to gauge the significance of that fact, and that the expectations which the historian attributes to them are of his own suggestion.

It does not appear as if there were any formed intention of resuming the offensive in the Western Ægean in order to give support to Mardonius whenever he should re-open the campaign, though, if Herodotus is to be believed, H. viii. 130, ad fin. plans of attack of some kind were discussed. Whatever they may have been, they were not put into immediate operation; and the appearance of the Greek fleet on the Asian coast later in the year completely altered the situation.

The approach of spring warned the Greeks that they must make preparations to meet the impending attack of Mardonius. With incomprehensible but characteristic dilatoriness, no immediate effort was made to collect the army, though a fleet of a hundred and ten ships gathered at Ægina under a new commander, the Spartan Leutychides. Moreover, Themistocles no longer commanded the Athenian contingent, his place being taken by Xanthippos. Possible reasons for this remarkable and important change have been already suggested. Of the actual reasons nothing is known.

There was, moreover, in this year, a change not merely in the personnel, but also in the system of command which prevailed during the previous year in the Athenian contingent. The Athenian army had played no part at Thermopylæ, and at Salamis it had acted, in so far as it did act, in immediate conjunction with the fleet. It had been, therefore, possible to place both arms of the service under the control of one supreme commander,—Themistocles. In 479, however, it was evident that the altered circumstances of the war would necessitate the employment by Athens of a considerable force on land, acting quite independently of the fleet. It would be impossible, therefore, for one man to command both; and a separate command on land was given to Aristides, another member of the College of Ten Strategi. He may or may not have been placed under the general control of Xanthippos. As events turned out, he must have exercised a practically independent command. An arrangement of this kind would, had the circumstances arisen but a few years earlier, have raised considerable constitutional difficulty; but between 490 and 480 the whole system of military and naval control had been completely remodelled.

At the time of Marathon, the supreme command was in the hands of one of the archons, with the title of Polemarch, and the ten strategi were subordinate to him, being merely the commanders of the contingents furnished by the ten Kleisthenic tribes, and also forming a council of war. In the course of the official year 487–486, the method of lot was introduced into the election of the nine archons, of whom the polemarch was one. The most thoroughgoing democrat at Athens, being, as a citizen, liable to service in war, would hardly fail to see the undesirability of entrusting his life to a general chosen by this method. That special form of fatalism would have few attractions for him. Thus the constitutional change with regard to the archonship necessitated some change in the arrangements of the military and naval commands. The polemarch was no longer commander-in-chief. That office was vested in the members of the board of strategi, which henceforth had absolute control of military and naval affairs. As strategi, all of the ten were in a position of equality; and it is probable that each was allotted his own special department of administration, either on election, or by mutual arrangement between the members of the elected board. A board so constituted might work well in times of peace, but in time of war such a divided command could only lead to confusion and inefficiency. APPEAL FOR AND FROM IONIAN GREEKS. The people therefore reserved to itself the power of allotting special commands to strategi of its own choice, or even of appointing one member of the board a generalissimo (στρατηγός αὐτοκράτωρ).

It was under this constitutional arrangement that the mode of command adopted in 479 was possible.

It was while the fleet was at Ægina that the Greeks received the first direct appeal for aid from the Ionian Greeks. Doubtless the populations of the cities along the Asian coast were much stirred at this time by the disaster which had befallen the great expedition. That the Ionian contingent had shared in those disasters was a consideration which would affect but slightly the sentiments of the mass of the Ionian population; since, as has been already pointed out, that contingent represented merely the dominant philomedic minorities in the various Ionian towns. With the unbroken power of Persia to back them, those minorities could not be assailed with any hope of success; but now that that power was shaken, it might seem that the time had arrived for action. In Chios, at any rate, a plot was formed to murder the local tyrant Strattis. It miscarried, and six of the chief conspirators fled for their lives across the Ægean, where they made an appeal, first to Sparta, and then to the fleet at Ægina, to strike a blow for the liberty of their countrymen beyond the sea. Herodotus’ silence as to their reception at Sparta is eloquent; but his description of the effect of their appeal on the fleet is one of the most remarkable, and probably one of the most misinterpreted passages in his history, H. viii. 132. “The refugees, with difficulty, induced the fleet to go as far as Delos; all beyond was to the Greeks a land of danger, for they knew not even how it lay, and fancied it all to be full of the enemy’s troops. As for Samos, it seemed to them as far off as the Pillars of Hercules. So it befell that the Persians were afraid to sail westward of Samos, and the Greeks dare not go eastward of Delos, though the Chians entreated them so to do. So fear stood between them and protected them.”

This passage, even in its manifest rhetorical exaggeration, is interesting. The evident intention of the historian is to mark the fact that the mutual feelings of the two adversaries had entered upon a second stage.

He has spared no pains to draw a striking contrast between the exaggerated confidence prevailing on the Persian side up to the time of Salamis, and the corresponding lack of it among the Greeks. The balance of fear had been heavy against his countrymen. But now, at the opening of the campaign of 479, he is equally anxious to show that the scale had altered, and was now in equilibrium. With the dramatic instinct of the Greek, he wishes to indicate in one striking sentence that the turning-point in the tragedy has been reached. He was telling, as he well knew, the most exciting story in the history of the world up to his own time, and he may be pardoned, perhaps, if in his anxiety to emphasize its climax he has employed the language of exaggeration.

But when it becomes a question of determining the extent of the exaggeration, it may be suggested that there is perhaps less exaggeration in his statement than in the criticisms which have been passed upon it. May it not be that the eastern shore of the Ægean was to the European Greek of 480 a far less known region than might, without reflection, be assumed? Twenty years had passed since the outbreak of the Ionian revolt. Was not the attitude of Athens and Eretria in the first year of it peculiarly calculated to render communications between the two shores difficult and rare? The trade of the Ionian cities must have practically ceased during the seven years of the struggle; and, in any case, Persia, in her bitter resentment at the interference of the two states of European Greece, was not likely to encourage the visits of traders from the other side of the sea. Every avenue of trade in the Asian waters must have been unsafe to the Greek, not merely on account of the possible presence of the Persian fleet, but by reason of the swarm of privateers which the south coast of West Asia was ever ready to produce. THE SILENT ÆGEAN. And when the revolt was over, was it probable that the Persians would allow the Greek trader free access to information with regard to the plans of the expeditions of 492 and 490, or, amid the access of bitterness which arose from the failure of the latter year, with regard to the preparations made for a great revenge? If intercourse did continue, how does it arise that the Greeks were ignorant of the magnitude and real intent of the expedition of 480, up to within a few months of its arrival in Greece? The Ionian must have known long before. Why did he not tell the Greek trader, if that trader was a frequent visitor to his ports? After-ages do not realize the nature of the blow dealt to trade by a prolonged period of war, even if the active warlike operations be not continuous. To take examples from the history of England. Those who read the story of the Seven Years’ War mark with pride the absolute predominance which Great Britain had gained upon the seas by the year 1761. And yet, in that very year, eight hundred and twelve English trading ships were captured by the enemy,—no small fraction of the British trading fleet of those days. During the wars of the Napoleonic period when, after Trafalgar, Britain for many years commanded the sea, the English Channel, the greatest trade highway in the world, was almost as deserted as that Northern Ocean which Tacitus describes.

Is it not possible, at least, that Herodotus has in his mind a state of things lasting for many years in the Ægean similar to that which prevailed in the Channel in the first years of the nineteenth century? He may have exaggerated the feelings of the Greek sailors at this time; but who at the present day can say to what length of exaggeration he has gone?

CHAPTER XI.
THE CAMPAIGN OF PLATÆA.

H. viii. 131.

While these events were occurring in Middle Greece, Mardonius, in the far North, was preparing to move. It is said that before starting he despatched an envoy to make inquiries of the oracles of Northern Greece, at Lebadeia, Abæ, and Mount Ptoon, on what subject Herodotus is unable to say with certainty—on the circumstances of the time, he is inclined to think.

H. viii. 136.

A much more important envoy was despatched to Athens in the person of Alexander, the son of Amyntas, a member of the royal house of Macedonia, who was connected with the Persians by family ties, and with the Athenians by his having held for them the position of Proxenos, or consular agent, in his own country.

It may fairly be doubted whether Herodotus got the tale of Alexander’s mission from an Athenian or from a Macedonian source, or whether he combined information derived from both. H. viii. 136. The reference to the character of the Athenian people has, on the one hand, a strong Attic flavour about it, H. viii. 137 et seqq. while the knowledge of the Macedonian royal family displayed here and elsewhere in his work suggests that Herodotus acquired his information on the spot in the course of a visit to that country.[177]

From Sketch by E. Lear.]

PLAIN OF THEBES AND MOUNT KITHAERON.

1. Kithæron (about 15 miles).

2. Ridge between Parasopia and Plain of Thebes.

3. Thebes.

[To face page [436].

This tale might, consequently, be derived from Macedonia. MARDONIUS AND ATHENS. This supposition is, however, rendered unlikely, owing to the excessively mistaken forecast which Alexander is described to have made of forthcoming events; and its Attic origin is the more probable. It is needless to say that that does not make for the veracity of a story whose evident intention is, like that of so many of the stories of this time, to bring into relief the self-denying patriotism of Athens. Yet, in spite of this, the story in itself is credible enough.

H. viii. 136.

Mardonius, so the tale runs, had made up his mind that if he could win over the Athenians to the Persian side he would thereby deprive the forces opposed to him of a people both numerous and brave, who were, moreover, mainly responsible for the disaster of the previous year. By this means he hoped to gain once more command of the sea, and expected to be infinitely superior to the enemy on land. This design, Herodotus thinks, was probably suggested to him by the oracles he had recently consulted.

The most remarkable reference, so far, is to the recovery of the command of the sea. No one could better estimate than Mardonius the full significance of the loss of that command. He must have known well that, unless it were recovered, he could at best obtain but a partial measure of success. Anything of the nature of a prolonged campaign to the southward of Bœotia would be, on the mere question of commissariat, impossible; and a brief campaign was not to be looked for. A foe which had been formidable with the courage of despair was likely to be more formidable when animated with the courage of a hope following despair. He had, no doubt, accumulated during the winter in Thessaly as large a commissariat as possible; but it is beyond conception that he could have greatly increased the necessarily limited supplies obtainable locally by transport along that route of four hundred miles whose use had only been contemplated a month or two before, and whose organization must necessarily have been of the most hurried description. He must win Athens over, or modify his plans.

To her accordingly was offered a free pardon for the past on the part of the Great King, the enjoyment of her existing lands, and any accession of territory she liked. Nor did Alexander the envoy fail to point out to the Athenians the contrast between such a prospect and their actual state as the people who had suffered most from the war.

H. viii. 141.

The news of Alexander’s visit to Athens, and of its object, created considerable alarm at Sparta. An embassy was despatched with all speed to counteract the possible ill-effects of his proposals. This embassy was actually present when Alexander spoke; for the latter had been kept waiting for several days before he had been allowed to bring his business before the assembly. The astute Athenians had made up their minds to use Alexander as a lever wherewith to move the sluggish Sparta to action. They do not seem to have had any intention whatever of taking Mardonius’ message into consideration. When Alexander had done speaking, the Spartan ambassadors addressed the assembly. They urged that it would be gross desertion on the part of the Athenians to renounce their share in a war which had been provoked by them, and by them alone. Turning to more material matters, they promised to alleviate the sufferings of the Athenians by undertaking the support of the non-effective part of the population.

The Athenian answer to Mardonius’ message was as firm as their determination: “So long as the sun runs his course in the heavens, we will never make terms with Xerxes.”

The answer to the Lacedæmonians as reported by Herodotus is, in sentiment and language alike, one of the finest passages in Greek prose.

“The fear of the Lacedæmonians lest we should make terms with the barbarians is, humanly speaking, very natural. And yet, knowing well, as you do, the spirit of Athens—that there is not in the wide world gold sufficient nor land so exceeding fair and good that we would accept it as the price of our own defection and of the enslavement of Hellas,—your fear, we think, does you but small credit. There are many powerful considerations which would forbid our so acting, even had we the will to do so. ATHENS AND SPARTA. First and foremost is the burning and destruction of the images and temples of the gods, which we, so far from making terms with the doers of these deeds, must of necessity avenge to the full. Secondly, there is that tie of blood and language which binds the Greek world together, our common share in our religious foundations and sacrifices, our community of manners—things which it would disgrace the Athenians to betray. Know this, if you did not before know it, that so long as a single Athenian survives, we will never make terms with Xerxes. We admire your kindly thought for us, in that, homeless as we are, you are willing to support our families. That kindness on your part is complete, but we will endure as we are, without burdening you.

“But now, these things being so, send forth your army with all speed, for we imagine that the invasion of our land by the barbarian will not be long deferred, so soon as he hears our message refusing compliance with his demands. Ere, then, he enters Attica, there is time for us to meet him in Bœotia.”

And so the Spartan ambassadors went home.

The Athenians evidently hoped that they would be able to save their land from the devastation of the previous year by persuading the allies to meet the enemy in Bœotia.

Their hopes were natural, but they were not destined to be fulfilled; and, if by Bœotia the Bœotian plain was meant, it was fortunate they remained unfulfilled.

On receipt of the answer from Athens Mardonius started on his march from Thessaly without delay. The feudal families of that region had thoroughly espoused the Persian cause, and their attitude, as well as that of the Bœotians, shows that the dominant section in the two great territories of the North had definitely made up their minds that, whatever the fate of the South might be, those regions were to become part of the Persian Empire. H. ix. 2. The Theban advice to Mardonius to remain in Bœotian territory and seek to conquer Greece by corrupting the leading men of its various states, shows that the medization of the ruling powers in Bœotia was not merely a passive attitude. One thing, however, Mardonius had made up his mind to do—to capture Athens a second time. Herodotus attributes the intention to mere vanity, but any one or all of three practical reasons made its acquisition of importance to him. Its recapture might induce Xerxes from his base on the Asian coast to attempt to regain the command of the sea. Its possession might bring pressure to bear on the Athenian authorities, and aid his design of detaching that people from the forces of resistance. Finally, in case he intended to advance on the Isthmus, the possession of the Acropolis would protect his left flank. He occupied Athens without striking a blow, the population having been removed, as in the previous year, to Salamis. Having occupied it, he reopened the negotiations which Alexander had attempted but a short time before. The result was the same. The spirit of the people was shown by their stoning to death Lykides, a member of the council, for merely proposing that the message should be communicated to the Assembly. Even his wife and children were murdered in a similar way by the Athenian women at Salamis.

H. ix. 6.

This second withdrawal to Salamis comes somewhat as a surprise in Herodotus’ narrative, for his account of the visit of the Spartan embassy to Athens at the time of Alexander’s presence there makes it appear that an understanding had been arrived at by which Athens might be spared a second invasion. The explanation comes later. “So long as the Athenians expected that an army would come from Peloponnese to help them, they remained in Attica.” But when the presence of the enemy in Bœotia was announced, and it became impossible to hope that help from the South could arrive in time, they retired to Salamis, as they had done the year before. They also despatched an embassy to Sparta to protest against the delay.

The strong appeal to patriotism made in their last communication to the Lacedæmonian embassy had failed to impress a people whose very institutions and training rendered them incapable of forming a real conception of the true spirit of a pan-Hellenic policy. Their stern discipline, moreover, was only too well calculated to render them mere tools of those set over them; and the delay in the present instance was probably due to the policy of an inner ring of the government at Sparta. The records of the time afford no certain clue to the motives lying behind that policy. ATHENIAN EMBASSY AT SPARTA. It is possible that it aimed at forcing the hand of the Athenians, and compelling them to take part in the defence of the Isthmus.

H. ix. 7.

Sparta having failed to listen to persuasion, Athens had recourse, as on previous occasions, to threats. The Spartans were told that if Athens found herself deserted, she would seek her salvation in her own way; it was more than hinted that Mardonius’ offer might become a question of practical politics. The Spartan excuse for delay was similar to that urged for the desertion of Thermopylæ, the celebration of a festival. The story of the reception of the ambassadors is one of the strangest in the strange history of this time. They bitterly reproached the Lacedæmonians with their conduct. They put the very worst construction on the Spartan policy, which had, they said, inflicted on patriotism an amount of suffering which it dare not have inflicted on uncertain fidelity. It is probable that the reproach was, in so far as the Spartan authorities were concerned, well deserved. From the language used by the Athenians it is evident that they believed that the Spartans had agreed to join in operations in Bœotia merely in order to keep Athens from medizing before the wall at the Isthmus was absolutely completed.[178]

That was the construction Athens put upon their conduct at this time; but it is probable that the more correct interpretation of their extraordinary policy is that by delaying they would be able to transfer the defence to the wall, and could, under any circumstances, rely on the devotion of Athens to the common cause.

Turning to the question of the future war policy, the Athenian ambassadors proposed that, as Bœotia had been lost, the enemy should be met in Attica; and they mentioned the Thriasian plain between Eleusis and Mount Ægaleos as admirably designed for a field of battle. [It must be remembered that this recommendation was made at a time when the Greeks were without experience of the effectiveness of the Persian cavalry on ground suited to its operations.]

The Ephors deferred their answer to the following day; from that to the next, and so on, until ten days had been wasted. They were waiting, says Herodotus, for the completion of the wall. They were, too, waiting, no doubt, until events in the North developed sufficiently to make it impossible for Athens to propose any other line of defence. This unsatisfactory state of things was brought to an end, so Herodotus says, by a warning addressed to the Ephors by Chileos, a Tegean, who had great influence in Sparta. He pointed out that if Athens joined the Persian, wall or no wall, the doors of the Peloponnese would be opened wide. Herodotus evidently supposed that until this moment such an idea had never occurred to the Spartan authorities, despite the experiences of Artemisium and Salamis in the previous year. In all probability, what really influenced these authorities was the fact that an able man, whose opinion they valued, was not so sure as they themselves were, that Athenian loyalty would endure much longer the severe test to which it was being put.

Their next act was a very strange one. Without saying a word to the ambassadors, they despatched under cover of night a force of five thousand Spartans, each of whom was accompanied by seven helots. There were, therefore, forty thousand in all. The number of light-armed helots is remarkable, certainly above the usual quota allotted to a force of five thousand heavy-armed.[179]

SECRET DESPATCH OF SPARTAN ARMY.

In constituting this force, the unusual number of light-armed in the army which it would have to meet would naturally be taken into consideration. The circumstances of population in the Spartan territories, moreover, were such that any unusual increase in the numbers employed on any expedition would be supplied by the increase in this branch of the service. The commander of this large force was Pausanias. Kleombrotos had been in command at the Isthmus in the previous year, but had died shortly after bringing back his army thence.[180] It must have been prepared for departure for some time past No such force could start on short notice.[181]

The ambassadors, knowing nothing of this sudden march, and weary of the continual procrastination, were prepared to leave Sparta on the following morning. Before the deception was discovered the Athenian delegates actually stated that, in consequence of Sparta’s attitude, Athens would make terms with Persia, and, more than that, would accompany the Persians in their invasion. Truly the Spartan government policy had very nearly brought Greece to ruin.

The surprise of the indignant envoys may then be imagined when they were told in answer by the Ephors that they had every reason to believe that their army was, by that time, at Orestheion on its march against “the strangers,” as they called the barbarians. Orestheion was in the small plain of Asea, S.S.E. of the Arcadian plain, where one of the great roads from Sparta northward met the main road coming from Messenia to the Arcadian plain. The fact that they took this route is interesting, because it almost certainly indicates that they wished to avoid Argos, from which, as will be seen, a certain amount of trouble was to be expected.

Thus the truth came out; and the envoys started without delay in pursuit of this phantom army, accompanied by five thousand picked hoplites of the Periœki.

The truth about the attitude of Argos at this time is rendered uncertain by the fact that, after the war was over, the patriot Greeks regarded not merely those races which had medized, but also those who had not taken part with them, as having been enemies of their fatherland. That of itself would give rise to a number of traditions of doubtful credibility with respect to the attitude of such neutrals. Nevertheless, the attitude of Argos was highly suspicious, and there is no doubt that it was firmly believed in after-time that she had had traitorous relations with Persia.

H. ix. 12.

Herodotus asserts that the Argives sent a messenger about this time to Mardonius, who was in Athens, saying that they were unable to carry out the promise that they had made to him to stop the Spartan army on its march northwards. This tale is to a certain extent supported by the fact that the Spartans, instead of adopting the shorter route north by the Thyreatic plain and Argos, adopted the longer one indicated by the mention of Orestheion. Argos was, by its strategical position, ever a serious obstacle to Sparta’s communication with the north.

KITHÆRON AND PARNES.

Mardonius had, up to this time, refrained from damaging Athens and Attica, in the hope that the Athenians would change their minds, and accept his proposals; but, failing to persuade them to do so, and hearing of the advance of this army to the Isthmus, he set fire to Athens, and began to withdraw to Bœotia; “because,” says Herodotus, “Attica was not a country for cavalry, and if he were defeated in an engagement his only line of retreat was through strait places, so that a few men could stop him.” He determined, therefore, to retreat, and make Thebes his base of operations, as lying in a region eminently adapted to the use of cavalry. His evident fear was lest the Greek forces should work up through the Megarid and seize the difficult passes of the Kithæron-Parnes range in his rear.

As this range is of great importance in the campaign which was at this time about to open, it may be well to describe its nature, and to enumerate the passes by which it is pierced. It was regarded by the Greeks as an effective and important line of defence; and the difficulties which it presented to various armies which had occasion to traverse or to attempt to traverse it in the warfare of the fifth and fourth centuries before Christ, show that their estimate of its defensive possibilities was not a mistaken one. As its name implies, it is in reality composed of two short ranges, Kithæron on the west, and Parnes on the east. These are connected by an upland country known to the ancients by the name of Panakton, whose approaches on either side are, from a military point of view, of a very difficult character. The chain as a whole may be said to form a continuous barrier stretching from the head of the gulf of Corinth to the southern part of the Euripus. Both Kithæron and Parnes are sharply-edged, steep-sided ridges, whose highest points rise to a height of four thousand five hundred feet above sea-level, while the general elevation of each chain is about three thousand feet. Though not, as will be seen, of any great height, they offer comparatively few passages. There are six points at which the range may be traversed. Of these the western series, four in number, are of importance in reference to the battle of Platæa itself, while the two eastern passes afford alternative routes for an army retreating, like that of Mardonius, from Athens to Thebes.

At the extreme west of the range, where it sinks with sudden abruptness into the gulf of Corinth, it is turned rather than traversed by what is little better than a mountain track, which led from the Bœotian port of Kreusis to the Megarean town of Ægosthena. From Ægosthena a road led southwards to Pagæ, and so round the western bastions of Mount Geraneia to the Isthmus. It was also quite possible to reach Megara by a branch of this route.

Cf. Xen. Hell. v. 4; vi. 4.

The difficulties of this pass are such that it was rarely used for military purposes, and it seems to have played no part whatever in the operations of 479.

The second pass is that which the road from Platæa to Megara formerly traversed. It crosses Kithæron a little more than a mile eastward of Platæa, entering a deep valley which runs into the chain from the north, and ascending steeply from the head of the valley to the summit of a col in the ridge. Its character forbids the supposition that it can ever have been used for wheeled vehicles, and its importance must have been mainly due to the fact that it is the only one of this series of passes, with the exception of the track by Ægosthena, by which land communication between Northern Greece and the Peloponnese could be maintained without entering Attic territory. The road south of it, towards Megara, traverses the troublesome hill region of the Northern Megarid.[182] The fact that Platæa practically commanded the northern end of this pass rendered the town one of the most important strategic positions in Greece, both in the fifth and in the fourth centuries. It will be hereafter seen that this pass must have played an important part in the operations of the Greek army at Platæa.

The third pass is one by which the road from Platæa to Athens crossed the range. It is little more than a mile to the east of that last mentioned. Remains of the road are visible on the north side, entering a somewhat broad valley running into the hills. It must have always been an easy pass, and the ancient wheel-ruts worn in the rock show that it was used by wheeled vehicles.[183] PASSES BETWEEN ATTICA AND BŒOTIA. The road, after traversing it, turned east, and joined, near Eleutheræ, the road from Thebes to Eleusis by way of the pass of Dryoskephalæ. This pass also played an important part in the operations at Platæa.

The fourth pass was well known under its Attic name of Dryoskephalæ, and though not traversed by the direct road between Thebes and Athens, must have been largely used by those going from one place to the other, owing to the route by way of it being more easy than the direct road by Phyle. From the Bœotian side, near the site of the ancient Erythræ, the ascent is steep; it must have always been necessary to make it by a series of zigzags. The summit once reached, the descent is gradual, down a long stream-valley which abuts on a small plain of Attica beneath the fortress of Eleutheræ. As a pass, it was probably always more difficult than that on the Platæa-Athens road, but as the route from Thebes through it was more direct, it became the most used of the passes of Kithæron, and seems to have been the only one which had a special name in ancient times. The road through it was continued southward through a not very difficult country, as country goes in Greece, to the Thriasian plain and Eleusis, passing by or very near the fortress of Œne, whose importance must have been due to its position with reference to this road. Near Eleusis it joined the Sacred Way to Athens. Of the importance of this pass at the time of the battle of Platæa it is hardly necessary to speak.

The fifth of the series of passes is that on the direct road between Thebes and Athens. After ascending from the Bœotian plain to the plateau of Panakton, it traverses the upland pastures of that region, and enters a difficult country, where it was commanded by the important Attic fortress of Phyle. Thence it reaches the head of the Athenian plain. Mardonius might certainly have made use of this route for his retreat. He preferred, however, the more roundabout way through the sixth pass. It may have been, on the whole, an easier route. Furthermore, Mardonius, who seems to have been more apprehensive than he need at this moment have been that his retreat might be cut off, evidently thought that the route furthest from the Greek lines of advance would be safest.

The sixth pass leads from the plain of Athens into the lower basin of the Asopos. It was commanded near its summit by that fortress of Dekeleia which was destined to become so famous in the latter part of the Peloponnesian war. After passing Dekeleia, it was possible, instead of continuing along the road due north, to diverge to the left and follow a stream-valley to Tanagra. From Tanagra there must always have been a good, though not absolutely direct, road to Thebes, and also an easy passage up the Asopos valley.

H. ix. 14.

Herodotus, after describing Mardonius’ preparations for leaving Athens, says that when already on his way it was reported to him that a body of a thousand Lacedæmonians had been pushed forward to Megara. On hearing this, he wheeled about, and led his army as far as Megara, while his cavalry overran the whole of the Megarid. Herodotus’ intention in mentioning the incident is made sufficiently clear by the words which follow: H. ix. 14, ad fin. “This is the furthest point west in Europe which the Persian army reached.” Paus. i. 44, 4. It is to this expedition that a tradition mentioned by Pausanias must be referred—a tradition which preserved the record of the advance of the Medes to Pagæ.

There is no reason to doubt that the Persian raid into the Megarid is an historical fact, recorded by Herodotus and preserved in this chance tradition. It is not, however, at all likely that it was made by the whole Persian army, or that it was made at the time Herodotus mentions. His object in relating the story is plainly indicated, and in his desire to make his main point, he has probably not been over careful as to exactness in date.

If Mardonius wished, as is represented by the historian, to secure his safe passage to Bœotia, he would hardly have turned back with all his force. Had he done so, his natural line of withdrawal would have been by Dryoskephalæ. MARDONIS RETREATS TO BŒOTIA. The raid into Megara seems to have been a cavalry reconnaissance, whose object was to discover what the Greeks were doing at the Isthmus, and, moreover, it was probably made several days at least before the time indicated by Herodotus.

H. viii. 15.

The actual line of retreat Herodotus describes with some detail. He first went to Dekeleia, whence guides despatched by the Bœotarchs conducted him to Sphendale, and so to Tanagra. From thence he made his way up the Asopos valley to Skolos, where he formed a stockaded camp.[184]

It is impossible to arrive at any real comprehension of the history of this stage of the war without deducing from the action of Mardonius the nature of the designs, both political and strategical, which led him to adopt the course of action which he did.

It is evident, in the first place, that he had given up all idea of an attack on the fortifications of the Isthmus. It is also evident that he had recognized from the first that the only possibility offered him of an attack on that position was in the event of his winning over Athens to his side. If he could not do so, he would be liable to have his communications cut at any moment in the very difficult region of the Megarid. The negotiations with Athens had conspicuously failed. It would be absurd to suppose that he was not prepared for such an eventuality even before he started for Thessaly; he may be conceived even to have recognized that, after the events of the previous year, the probability of success in the negotiation was remote.[185] If this be the case, it is to be concluded that he had some alternative design in his mind, which he intended to carry out in case the first miscarried. The very circumstances under which the history of the time was written forbade the possibility of the nature of that design becoming known to after-ages, and the only surviving indications of what he planned are afforded by what he did.

It is amply proved in the Greek historians that the disaster of the previous year had left the ruling powers of the north just as loyal to Persian interests as they had been before Salamis. If anything, their loyalty had increased. Their contingents were with Mardonius. They had practically staked their all on his success; and only his presence could save them from the severe retaliation which the patriotic Greeks might be expected to inflict on those who had joined the enemies of their country. If Mardonius’ strategy at this time be any indication of his policy, that policy aimed at the establishment of a new Persian frontier at the Kithæron-Parnes line, with Thessaly, Phocis, and Bœotia in a similar position to the vassal states of Thrace and Macedonia.

His strategical plan was well based. The Kithæron-Parnes line offered a much easier defence against an assailant from the south than against one from the north, because the continuous valleys of the Œroë and Asopos formed a natural highway running lengthwise along the chain, such a highway as was conspicuous by its absence on the southern side. By this highway an army could be moved rapidly from one point to the other, according to the locality of the pass through which the attack might be delivered. CHANGE IN GREEK PLAN OF CAMPAIGN. On the south no such facilities existed, and an army on the north which made a feint at one of the eastern passes, and so attracted an enemy to its defence, could move to one of the western passes, and get through it long before the defender could move from his original defensive position.[186]

Thus Mardonius was well placed. He had a fortified base at Thebes, in a rich country, and a country well adapted to his strength in cavalry; and he had a fortified camp on the strategic line of highway which the Asopos valley afforded.

It is little short of a calamity for the history of this time that Herodotus has omitted to account for the absolute change in the Greek plan of campaign which is indicated by the advance of the army from the Isthmus into Bœotia. It had manifestly been the intention of the Spartans up to the very last moment to await attack at the Isthmus; it may be certain that the other Peloponnesian States entertained this design still more emphatically. And yet, in spite of this, they follow the enemy to Bœotia, and shortly after their arrival there develop an offensive movement of a most unmistakable character. Athens must have been mainly responsible for this remarkable change; but what were the motives of Athens? It was too late to save Attica. The mischief there had been done. And yet these Greeks were persuaded to develop a policy whose boldness is in conspicuous contrast to the purely defensive attitude they had hitherto adopted in all their land operations, and to inaugurate the new policy in a region peculiarly favourable to that arm of the enemy’s force from which they had most to fear and against which they had nothing to match. It can only have been carried out under the impetus of some great and well-grounded alarm; and in view of the silence of the ancient historian, the only conclusion that it is possible to draw from the acts of either side is that the Greeks, through the Athenians, suspected the existence of a design to establish a new Persian frontier at Kithæron.

It was consequently necessary to take the offensive and the risk it involved, unless they were ready to submit to the existence of the Persian terror at their very doors. Whether its continued existence would have been possible without the regaining of the command of the sea is another question; but, considering the attitude of Bœotia and Thessaly, it would be unsafe to assert the impossibility. In any case, the Greeks regarded those possibilities from so near a perspective, that their field of vision must have been contracted to the one dangerous alternative.

H. ix. 19.

The Lacedæmonian army, which was last heard of at Orestheion in Arcadia, arrived at the Isthmus and encamped there. The patriotic States of Peloponnese, seeing the Spartans on the move, despatched their contingents thither also, or, rather, the complements of their contingents, since it must be concluded that the wall had not been without any defenders up to this time. From the Isthmus the whole army moved forward to Eleusis, where the Athenian land-army from Salamis joined it. The whole combined force then moved north along the road to Dryoskephalæ.[187]

From Sketch by E. Lear.]

PLAIN OF KAPAIS, FROM THEBES.

[To face page [452].

Shortly after passing the summit of the pass the Greek army would arrive in full view of the Bœotian plain, which from that elevated place appears more flat than it really is. The comparative monotony of the scenery of the plain itself is disguised by distance; and that which strikes the eye most forcibly is the contrast between this huge extent of comparatively low level ground, and the magnificent frame of mountains which forms the horizon on every side. To the north-west, Helicon descends in a long and highly serrated slope, behind which the hump of Parnassus in the far distance towers to a great height. LIMITS OF THE FIELD OF OPERATIONS. The northern horizon is bounded by that southern extension of the Œta range which lies between Kopais and the North Euripus, though Kopais, or what was once Kopais, is out of sight behind a comparatively low ridge in the neighbourhood of Thebes. To the north-east, Mount Ptoon is visible; and over its lower ridge the great cliffs of Mount Mekistos, on the Eubœan side of the Euripus, are just discernible. Away to the east, though hidden from sight at the top of the pass by a high bastion of Kithæron, the truncated cone of Mount Dirphys in Mid-Eubœa is the most prominent object.

There are but few extensive views in Greece comparable with it, and perhaps only one which excels it, that from Thaumaki on the road from Lamia northward, when the great plain of Thessaly, with its fringing ranges, is spread out like a sea before the spectator.

From the pass the Greeks descended to a position which extended across the road by which they had come, at the point at which it debouched fully on the plain. Before describing this position in detail it may be well to give a brief general description of the ground on which the prolonged struggle took place.

Its limits may be clearly defined. To the south its boundary is the limit of cultivation, where the rocky foot of Kithæron begins to rise from the rounded ridges of the plain. Outside this line the ground was impracticable for cavalry operations, and, though both armies at different times traversed this ground, no fighting took place beyond the line, or even in its neighbourhood. On the north, the limits are equally well defined by the river Asopos, although again in this case the major part of the Persian army was, during nearly the whole of the operations, to the north of the stream. The only fighting, however, which can possibly have taken place beyond it occurred during the assault on the Persian camp after the battle. To the east the limit may be taken as the line of the Thebes-Athens road; while to the west an imaginary line running due north from the town of Platæa to the Asopos will well define its utmost extent in that direction. The area of this field is about fifteen square miles, the dimensions from north to south and from east to west being about three and a half and four miles respectively.

In respect to the lie of its surface it may be divided into two parts. The southern portion of it along the foot of Kithæron consists of ridges running south and north, divided from one another by stream-valleys,—spurs, in fact, of the great mountain, but of no great height.[188] Of these the easternmost is much loftier than the others. On the westernmost is the site of the town of Platæa.

North of these ridges a distinctly marked line of depression extends across the field from east to west. It runs up the course of a brook,[189] in a south-westerly direction, to the site of the modern Kriekouki. After reaching the bottom of that village it turns at right angles and goes north-west in a line parallel to, and immediately north of, the watershed between the basins of the Asopos and Œroë, reaching the flat alluvial plain north of Platæa, just west of the springs of Apotripi, the traditional Gargaphia.

This depression is of considerable importance in relation to the general scheme of the operations of the Greek army on the field:⁠—

(a) Because it forms the dividing line between the first and intended third positions and the second position, that is to say, between the positions which were chiefly remarkable for their defensive character, and that position which was assumed with the manifest intention of taking a vigorous offensive.

(b) Because in it the Greek army, after marching from the first position, took up its order before occupying the second position.

(c) Because in it the two combats which ultimately decided the battle were fought.

The plain which has been mentioned in reference to the western extremity of this depression extends without any break from the north end of the site of the town of Platæa to the Asopos river. The plain is the only flat land in the whole battle-field.

From Sketch by E. Lear.]

PLAIN OF PLATÆA AND KITHÆRON.

[To face page [454].

DESCRIPTION OF THE FIELD.

North of the depression rise three ridges or hills.[190] These ridges are separated from one another by two deep stream-valleys.[191] The slope of these ridges northward toward the Asopos is longer and more gradual than on the south.

In general appearance the plain of Bœotia at this part resembles the Wantage downs in such parts as the ploughland predominates over the pasture. The great grey wall of Kithæron to the south rises into the air, and dwarfs into insignificance the inequalities of the plain, rendering, moreover, all horizontal distances most deceptive to the eye.

It may be assumed with absolute confidence that the accidents of the terrain in this region of Greece are for all practical purposes identical with those which existed more than two thousand years ago. There is no evidence of great surface-changes such as are brought about in other parts of Greece by the torrents which sweep down in violence from the mountains. In Upper Parasopia such torrents do not exist. Their non-existence can hardly be ascribed to inferior rainfall, for the Bœotian climate is not more dry than that of other parts of Greece. The probable cause is the peculiarly porous nature of the soil, and, presumably, of the underlying rock, which absorbs a large amount of water which would in other parts of Greece escape along the surface.[192]

In the flat plain between Platæa and the Asopos river, the courses of the various streams which traverse it are without doubt liable to alterations, but the characteristics of the stream-beds as to width, depth, and so forth, are undoubtedly the same as they were in the past.

The passes which actually debouch upon the field are, as has been already mentioned, three in number. It is remarkable that in Herodotus’ account of the battle that of Dryoskephalæ is the only one mentioned. It is, however, quite clear from Herodotus that, while the Greeks were in the second position on the battle-field, the Dryoskephalæ pass, and also that on the Platæa-Athens road, were both held by the Persian cavalry, and the supplies of the army during the time must have come through the pass on the Platæa-Megara road.[193]

HERODOTUS’ ACCOUNT OF PLATÆA.

Before entering upon the actual description of the battle itself, it may be well to say one word about the general character of the account of it which Herodotus has given to the world. Its length and elaboration are greater than that devoted by the author to the description of any other single act or scene in the history of his time. The historian had evidently expended extraordinary trouble in its preparation, and had done his utmost to arrive at all the facts and to relate them with accuracy. Any failure in the latter respect is owing either to the nature of his source or sources of information, or to a misapprehension of military details due to his want of special knowledge and experience. But whatever these defects may be, his narrative is by far the best of the accounts which have survived until the present day, a fact which is capable of proof by reason of the extraordinary manner in which, in spite of certain obscurities, it harmonizes with the present state of the region wherein the incidents occurred. There can be no reasonable doubt that he visited the field, and that, where he gives topographical details, they are the result of autopsy. Some of the difficulties which arise with reference to his description are more probably due to want of knowledge on the part of the modern than on the part of the ancient historian. Some, again, are attributable to that natural difficulty, which must ever arise, when any one attempts to follow exactly the description, however clear, of a complicated piece of ground as seen by the eyes of another man; and this difficulty is not decreased when the language employed does not possess that wealth of technical vocabulary which is at the service of the writer of the present day. It is so easy to fail to realize these difficulties under which Herodotus wrote. Official records were probably non-existent: written records of any kind, if existent, were probably of the most meagre kind; and the historian must have been obliged to have recourse to the narratives of those who were actually present at the operations. It must have cost an infinite amount of trouble to collect the information, and to piece together the different narratives; and yet, despite the immense difficulty of dealing with evidence of this kind, Herodotus has left an account of the battle which is not merely of interest and value from the point of view of general history, but also in the narrower field of exclusively military history.

Platæa was no ordinary engagement. It was really a campaign of several weeks, conducted within an extraordinarily limited field of operations. During that brief time, and within that small area, the strength and weakness of East and West matched in battle against one another were exemplified in a most striking way. The lesson it taught was so tremendous, so wide in application, that men could not grasp it. Perhaps it was as well for the world that they did not.

H. ix. 19.

The Greeks having descended from the summit of the pass of Dryoskephalæ towards the Bœotian plain, discovered that the Persians were encamped upon the Asopos, and took up their position “on the foothills of Kithæron.”[194] H. ix. 22. Herodotus refers later to this position as having been at Erythræ. The site of that small town has been somewhat in dispute; it appears to have been in the hollow on the north side of the mountain into which the road from Dryoskephalæ descends.[195]

FIRST POSITION OF THE GREEKS.

The position taken up by the Greeks is recognizable without difficulty at the present day. Their right was on the high bastion of Kithæron, east of Erythræ, stationed for the most part, in all probability, in the neighbourhood of the old fort which here overhangs the road. Their centre was on the low ground, à cheval of the Thebes road. Their left was probably on the slopes of the high ridge (ridge 1 in the map) to the east of the site of Kriekouki. The numbers present at this time are not known. All that is known is that, after considerable reinforcements had come in, from a hundred thousand to a hundred and ten thousand Greeks were in the field. It is not therefore possible to say what would be likely to be the length of the Greek front in this first position.

The strength of the position would be great. Their right and left wings would be unassailable by cavalry, and only assailable by infantry at a great disadvantage. Only on the flat ground in front of Erythræ would it be possible for the Persian cavalry to attack them, and this only along the right or east portion of the low ground, since the left or west portion of their centre would be protected by deep and precipitous stream-gullies which are there at this day, and must have existed in a similar form at the time of the battle. ATTACK BY PERSIAN CAVALRY. The comparatively advanced position of their centre in front of Erythræ, instead of on the difficult ground south of its site, was probably due to their being largely dependent on the wells of the little town for their supply of water.

THE FIRST POSITION AT PLATÆA.

1. Greek right.

2. Greek centre.

3. Greek left.

4. Site of Erythræ.

5. Pass of Dryoskephalæ.

[To face page [460].

H. ix. 20.

Mardonius, seeing that the Greeks had taken up this position, and that they showed no disposition to come down into the plain, sent against them the whole of his cavalry, under the command of Masistios, a Persian of high reputation. On getting near the Greeks it did not attack in a body,—the deep stream courses opposite the Greek left centre would make that difficult,—but, owing evidently to the narrowness of the front assailable, attacked in squadrons, and did a great deal of damage. The Megareans were drawn up at the most assailable point, and were hard pressed by an assault which evidently aimed at cutting the Greek army in two, and seizing their direct line of retreat by way of the pass. The narrowness of the assailable front appears emphatically in Herodotus’ account of the message the Megareans despatched for assistance. They speak of themselves as being single-handed in the fight, and beg to be relieved from their position. They threaten even that, unless help be sent, they will be obliged to leave their post. Pausanias, who led the great Spartan contingent and commanded the whole army, had some difficulty in finding volunteers for the post of danger. Finally the Athenian picked troops, under the command of Olympiodoros, accompanied by a body of bowmen, undertook to occupy the critical position. Aristides, who commanded the Athenian contingent, would see clearly the pressing nature of the danger. H. ix. 22. The Persians continued their attack by squadrons until their leader, Masistios, had his horse wounded by an arrow. It reared and threw him, close, apparently, to the Greek line of battle; for the Athenians immediately rushed towards him. He was killed, and his horse was captured. The Persians had not noticed the fall of their commander, and it was not until they had retired and had come to a stand-still that the loss was discovered. With shouts of encouragement to one another, the horsemen turned upon the Greeks, eager to gain possession of their leader’s body. They came no longer in squadrons, but in what must have been one column of horse, many ranks in depth. The Athenians called on the rest of the army to aid them, but before the latter came up the attack fell. The Athenians, only three hundred in number, were pressed back from the place where Masistios lay; the fight was too unequal. But when the other Greeks came up the Persian horsemen retired and were obliged to leave the body in the hands of the enemy. After retreating a distance of two stades, they held a consultation, and decided that, having lost their general, the best thing they could do was to retire to the camp.

In this combat the Persian cavalry was evidently taught a severe lesson. They found out the mistake of attacking unshaken heavy infantry at close quarters, a fundamental error in tactics which they did not repeat again in the course of the battle. From this time forward the Persians used their cavalry to inflict damage on the immobile Greek force by assailing it with missiles from a distance, and by cutting its lines of communication. They had learnt their lesson: the Greeks had not.

It is evident that the latter drew a wholly mistaken conclusion from the results of the fight, H. ix. 25. and that their previous fear of the enemy’s cavalry gave place to an unwarranted confidence in their ability to face it on any ground. They were now prepared to carry out tactically that offensive movement which they had begun strategically by their advance into Bœotia. It would seem as if their original design had been to use the Dryoskephalæ-Thebes road as their line of advance, a design which was checked in part by the nervousness originally pervading the greater part of their army as to the result of a rencontre with the Persian cavalry, and still more by the fact that they could see that the fortified Persian camp was saddled, as it were, on their proposed line of advance. From Herodotus’ description it would appear as if that camp were on both sides of the Asopos river, and that the point at which the Thebes-Dryoskephalæ road crosses that river at the present day must have been well within its area.

MOVEMENT FROM THE FIRST POSITION.

It was, then, in consequence of their elation at the success which they had won over the Persian cavalry, and probably also in consequence of the decision of the Greek commanders to take the offensive along a line other than that of the direct route to Thebes, that the Greeks moved from the position which they had hitherto occupied. It was plain that in that position no decisive result could be obtained. The extreme importance of this movement makes it necessary that Herodotus’ description of it should be follow with the utmost care:⁠—

H. ix. 25.

“After this they decided to go down towards Platæa. For the Platæan country seemed to them to be a much more suitable place for encampment than that about Erythræ. It was better supplied with water, and had other advantages. They determined therefore that they must move to that region and to the spring of Gargaphia, which is situated in it, and form a regular encampment. Taking up their arms, therefore, they went along the foot hills of Kithæron by Hysiæ to the Platæan country, and on arriving there they proceeded to take up their order by contingents near the spring of Gargaphia and the precinct of the hero Androkrates, along hills of no great height and level country.”

The Position of the Persian Camp.

Herodotus (ix. 15) describes the position of the camp as follows: Παρῆκε δὲ αὐτοῦ (Mardonius) τὸ στρατόπεδον ἀρξάμενον ἀπὸ Ἐρυθρέων παρὰ Ὑσίας, κατέτεινε δὲ ἐς τὴν Πλαταιίδα γῆν, παρὰ τὸν Ἀσωπὸν ποταμὸν τεταγμένον. Οὐ μέντοι τό γὲ τεῖχος τοσουτον ἐποιέετο, ἀλλ’ ὡς ἐπὶ δέκα σταδίους μάλιστά κῃ μέτωπον ἕκαστον.

Earlier in the same chapter he speaks of the Persian force as having arrived ἐς Σκῶλον, ἐν γῇ τῇ Θηβαίων.

I could not find any traces of the ruins of Skolos; Vide note on p. 449. but if the distance given in the passage of Pausanias (ix. 4, 3) already quoted is in any sense reliable, it lay four and a half miles east of the point where the Platæa-Thebes road crossed the Asopos; that is to say, about a mile and a half east of the Dryoskephalæ-Thebes road. Comparing this statement with Herodotus’ description of the position of the Persian army as stretching from Erythræ and Hysiæ, the conclusion which must be arrived at is that its encampment was on the low ground on either side of the Dryoskephalæ-Thebes road, and on the Asopos river.

The passage in Herodotus (ix. 31) πυθόμενοι τούς Ἓλληνας εἶναι ἐν Πλαταιῇσι, from the use of the word πυθόμενοι, would seem to indicate that the first phase of the second position of the Greeks was not in view of the Persian camp. If so, that camp was on the low ground, and did not extend southward to either of those heights called in the map the Long ridge and the Plateau.

At the risk of appearing to anticipate the evidence, it is necessary for the clear understanding of the somewhat complicated operations of this period of the battle, to state that the movement this indicated is not the complete movement to the second position, nor, consequently, is the position adopted the position finally taken up by the Greeks. That second position had three phases, of which this is the first.

It is possible to follow without difficulty this movement which Herodotus describes. It is evident that the Greek army first matched west along the south or upper part of the ridges[196] which descend from Kithæron towards the plain. Their object was evidently to keep, in so far as possible, on the rocky hill slopes, where their march could not be imperilled or interrupted by cavalry attack. In this march they passed Hysiæ. The position of that small place is not, as has been already said, determinable with certainty; but it seems most probable that its site is to be looked for immediately above the village of Kriekouki, and, if so, it would lie almost on the line of march which Herodotus indicates.

The Site of Hysiæ.

Tradition gives the site of the modern Kriekouki as that of Hysiæ. Water being so important in this region, it is worthy of notice that, except in case of prolonged drought, Kriekouki is well supplied in this respect, which would render it likely that the site or its immediate neighbourhood would have been chosen for habitation in ancient times. As I have already indicated, I think Hysiæ stood just outside the area of the modern village, to the south of it, i.e. higher up the hillside. There is a mound there with a more or less circular enclosure at the top, quite close to the great bend of the loop-road above the Kriekouki. The enclosure may possibly mark the site of the foundations of an ancient φρούριον. Other remains I could not find. Hysiæ was at best but a little place, and, if it stood on that site, whatever remnants of it survived till modern times would inevitably be swept away for the building of the large village of Kriekouki, in whose walls, too, are stones which appear to have been taken from pre-existing buildings. This site accords with the little that is told us in ancient authors of the position of Hysiæ. It lies east of the line of road from Athens to Platæa, at a distance of something less than half a mile. To the traveller coming along the road from Eleutheræ it would therefore be, as Pausanias says (ix. 2, i), “a little to the right of the road.” It is also west of the site of Erythræ, as Herodotus (ix. 15) indicates Hysiæ to have been.

MOVEMENT TO THE SECOND POSITION.

After moving some distance westward along the foothills the Greek army must have turned in a north and north-westerly direction to reach the position which Herodotus describes. H. ix. 25. He mentions the spring of Gargaphia and the precinct of Androkrates[197] as the two points defining the position, and indicates clearly what that position was, for the spring may be identified at the present day, and the precinct is referred to in Thucydides’ account of the escape of the two hundred and twelve from Platæa, in such a way that its site must lie somewhere within a comparatively small area of ground.

The Spring of Gargaphia.

The spring of Alopeki or Apotripi, at the head of the brook A 1, is pointed to by local tradition as the ancient Gargaphia. This spring does not give a very copious supply of water. I believe it does not always run dry in summer; but in August, 1899, after the long drought of that year, it was yielding no water whatever. The state of things in that month was such that the inhabitants of Kriekouki were absolutely dependent for water for themselves and their cattle on a group of springs lying east of Apotripi, distant from it about three-quarters of a mile, and forming the source of Stream A 4. These are the springs which Colonel Leake, rightly, as I firmly believe, identified with Gargaphia. The chief of these springs has, in modern times, been enclosed in a wall. What is quite certain is that one of these two groups is the Gargaphia.

Herodotus says (ix. 49) that the whole Greek army watered from the springs. As the battle took place in September, the greater yield of water from the eastern group of springs supports its identity as against Apotripi.

Herodotus also says (ix. 51) that the “Island” was ten stades from the spring.

Those who have visited the field since I was there in 1892 seem to be agreed that I was right in my identification of the “Island.”

The distance of the eastern springs from the “Island” is just about ten stade. Apotripi is about the same distance from it.

Herodotus says (ix. 52) that the spring was twenty stades from the Ἥραιον which, he says, is πρὸ τῆς πόλιος τῆς Πλαταιέων. The eastern springs are sixteen stades from the approximate position of that temple; Apotripi is but twelve stades off.

It will, I think, be seen that the evidence of Herodotus is in favour of the eastern springs.

The Precinct of the Hero Androkrates.

The evidence of Thucydides enables us to determine approximately the position of this Heroön. He says (iii. 24) that the two hundred and twelve who escaped made their way from Platæa

“along the road leading to Thebes, having on their right the hero-chapel of Androkrates ... and for six or seven stades the Platæans advanced along the Thebes road, and then, turning, went along the road leading to the mountain to Erythræ and Hysiæ.”

This can only mean that the Heroön was in the angle between the road to Thebes and the road to the mountains; and as these people only went about three-quarters of a mile along the Thebes road, it is evident that, if Thucydides be correct, the Heroön was to the right of the road and within three-quarters of a mile of Thebes. I have marked in the map the conjectural site of the building on the extremity of the last low ridge of the mountain before it sinks into the plain. There are at that point the remains of what has been an oblong building constructed of good squared blocks. I am almost certain that it is Hellenic work.

Mr. W. J. Woodhouse, in a recent number of the Journal of Hellenic Studies (Part I. 1898), dissents from my view as to the position of the Heroön of Androkrates.

His argument is as follows:⁠—

Mr. Woodhouse accordingly suggests that the Heroön stood on the site of the church of St. John, on the Asopos ridge.

I would point out:⁠—

PRECINCT OF ANDROKRATES.

There can be little doubt that the Greek army on descending from the hillside of Kithæron proceeded to form in something resembling order of battle on the low ground near the bottom of the depression which extends across the field, or on the flattish ridge which forms the watershed between the Œroë and the Asopos. In this position their left would be near, but probably north of the hero-chapel of Androkrates; their right would be near the Gargaphia. The position of the centre and the right would, moreover, be “on hills of no great height;” that is to say, on the lower ends of the ridges which come down from Kithæron, while their left would be in the plain before Platæa, the “level country” of which Herodotus speaks. On this ground they would be completely hidden from the Persian camp by the intervening ridges to the north of them, which rise a hundred and twenty feet above the Gargaphia spring, and much more than that above the plain of Platæa.

This first phase or development of the second position of the Greeks was probably not of long duration. The nature of the ground provides an explanation of it. After completing this march from the first position, the Greeks seem to have been anxious to form their army in something like order of battle before ascending to the summit of the northern ridges (the Asopos ridge), for on arriving there they would be in full view of the enemy, and at no great distance from the Persian camp. In other words, they deployed their army out of sight of the enemy.

There seems to have been a certain amount of quarrelling between the various contingents as to the order to be taken in the line of battle. NUMBERS OF THE GREEK ARMY. Herodotus describes at some length such a dispute between the Tegeans and Athenians as to who should take position on the extreme left; but then he dearly loved that kind of traditional history which he represents the two disputants as having introduced into their arguments.

The matter was decided in favour of the Athenians. It is clear that the Greeks at this time had a high opinion of the fighting qualities of the people which had faced the Persians alone at Marathon.

H. ix. 28.

The Greek army was now larger in numbers than when it entered Bœotia. Reinforcements had been coming in day by day. The total given by Herodotus at this point in his narrative may be taken to represent the largest number present at any time on the field, though it must not, perhaps, be assumed that all these troops were actually with the army immediately after the first development of the second position had been completed.[198]

The total number amounts to more than a hundred and eight thousand men, of whom more than one-third were heavy-armed infantry. When it is remembered that with the exception of two thousand eight hundred, all the troops were drawn from the Peloponnese, Megara, and Attica, and that, besides these, large numbers of the men of military age were serving on board the fleet at this time, the strenuous nature of the effort which Greece put forth in this year can best be realized. There is one curious point about the list in Herodotus. Manifest as is his admiration for Aristides, it is in this passage only in his long account of Platæa that he mentions him as commander of the Athenian contingent.

After giving the numbers of the various contingents of the Greek army, Herodotus closes the account with a remark which, in view of his previous description of their position as being in the neighbourhood of the precinct of Androkrates and the spring of Gargaphia, is difficult to understand. He says, “These (troops) were drawn up in regular order upon the Asopos.” If by the Asopos is to be understood what is undoubtedly the main stream of that river, the army in the first development of the second position cannot have been even in its immediate neighbourhood, much less upon it. It cannot have been at any point less than a mile and a half distant. The probable explanation is that the name of Asopos was applied by the inhabitants of Platæa, in so far as the upper course of that stream is concerned, to the brook which has its rise in the springs of Apotripi.[199]

MOVEMENT OF THE PERSIANS.

H. ix. 31.

On receiving information of the movement of the Greeks, the Persians moved westward along the Asopos, keeping, as it would appear from subsequent events, to the north of the river. If Herodotus’ language is accurate in wording,[200] it must be understood that this movement was made before the second position of the Greeks had entered upon its second phase; that is, while they were still out of sight of the Persian army behind the line of the northern ridges. Herodotus gives the Persian array in some detail. For all practical purposes of the story of the battle it is sufficient to know that the Persians proper were at this time on the left wing, opposite to the Lacedæmonians on the Greek right, and with a front overlapping that of the Tegeans. The other Asiatics formed the centre, opposite to the smaller Greek contingents, while the Bœotians and other medized Greeks on the Persian right were opposite to the Athenians, Platæans, and Megareans on the Greek left.

H. ix. 31.

Of the medized Greeks the Phocians were only represented by a fraction of their force. The remainder of that people had refused to medize, and from their strong refuge in Parnassus were evidently doing their best to interrupt the Persian line of communications, an operation for which their position was admirably adapted, as it was on the flank of the route from the north, at that point near Parapotamii and Chæronea where the available is peculiarly restricted.

The total number of the barbarian portion of the Persian army Herodotus gives at three hundred thousand. The numbers of the medized Greeks he does not know, but reckons to have been about fifty thousand. Probably there is an exaggeration in both estimates; but it cannot be very great in the first case. The numbers opposing the Greeks were certainly much superior to their own. The Thessalian element among the medized Greeks, whose numbers may have been very large, renders it impossible to make even a guess at the amount of truth in Herodotus’ estimate.

It is now necessary to consider what was the object of this movement of the Greeks to their second position. The main motive mentioned by Herodotus is the superiority of the water-supply at the new position. No one who has been in this part of Bœotia in the dry season would be inclined to under-estimate the importance of such a motive. But if the question of water had been the only motive, an equally good supply might have been obtained from the Vergutiani spring, and the wells or springs which must have supplied the contemporary town of Platæa. The position taken up in that case would have been beyond the reach of the Persian cavalry—it would, in fact, have been nearly identical with the proposed position at the “Island,” which became a prominent factor in the later developments of the battle.

If the motives given by Herodotus in his account of Platæa be examined, it will be seen that they are obviously those which would suggest themselves to one who had been present at the battle, but who had not been of sufficiently high military rank to be conversant with the designs of those in command. It was on some such man that Herodotus relied for his information; of actual official information he had little or none. He can only say where the army went, what positions it took up, and what were the incidents and issues of the combats which were fought. It is further plain that, as in the case of Thermopylæ, he supplemented this information by a personal examination of the ground.

THE OFFENSIVE.

It is, therefore, from the incidents of the battle that a judgment must be formed as to the nature of the design or designs which determined those incidents. In the present instance the three most remarkable factors in the situation were:⁠—

(1) The Greeks had deliberately taken up a position far more advanced than they need have done, if guided by physical conditions alone.

(2) They had, after their march from their original position, deployed their army in order of battle before coming in sight of the enemy.

(3) Their new position was attained, not by a direct forward movement, but by a strong inclination to the left.

The first factor can only be interpreted in the sense that the Greeks intended to assume a vigorous offensive; the second indicates that the attack was to be of the nature of a surprise; the third that it aimed at an assault on the Persian flank.

In judging from the subsequent history of the battle, it seems probable that, had it been possible to carry out this programme in its entirety, the result would have been a great success. It must have led to close fighting; and in close fighting the Greek hoplite was infinitely superior to anything which the Persian could oppose to him. The failure of the plan—for it certainly did fail—was due to the fact that the Persians discovered the movement of the Greeks before the latter were ready to attack; and a surprise was impossible. Moreover, they took up a new position in which they could not be outflanked. This the Greeks must have discovered when they completed the second development of the second position.

This second development of the new position is indicated though not described in Herodotus’ narrative. Had the Greeks remained in the position stretching from the Gargaphia to the Heroön, the Asopos could not have played the part which it did in the subsequent fighting. H. ix. 31. The historian has described the movement of the Persians as having been to “the Asopos, which flows in this part,” that is to say, approximately opposite the new Greek position. The Asopos here must be the stream above and below the point where the brook joins it. But vide note, p. [470]. H. ix. 30. The brook to which he has previously applied the name Asopos could not form the obstacle which is implied in the account of the fighting which occurred subsequently.[201] It is evident what the nature of the movement of the Greek army must have been. The whole army, after deploying on the low ground, advanced up the slope of the Asopos ridge. The right must have been to the east of the site of the church of St. John. Westwards the line extended along the curve of the ridge, and the extreme left was probably on the low ground at the north end of the plain of Platæa, though the amount of the extension in this direction must necessarily be a matter of uncertainty. The sight of the Persian army drawn up on the far side of the Asopos, which must have met the eyes of the Greeks when they reached the summit of the ridge, would clearly demonstrate to them that the attempted surprise had failed. The position for the moment was, indeed, one of stalemate; H. ix. 33–37. and that this was recognized by both sides is shown by Herodotus’ tale of the sacrifices offered in both camps on the day subsequent to the attainment of the position. The conclusions drawn from them were favourable to the maintenance of the defensive, but unfavourable to the adoption of the offensive by crossing the Asopos. It may be suspected that the Greek commanders assisted in the interpretation of the omens. Mardonius also had a prophet in his employ, a Greek from Elis, whose previous treatment by the Spartans had been such as to guarantee his loyalty to any cause opposed to theirs. He also advised the maintenance of the defensive, and his advice accorded with that of a third prophet who accompanied the medized Greeks. Prophecy and tactics combined had brought matters to an impasse for the time being.

H. ix. 38, 39.

Eight days thus passed without, apparently, any active operations being undertaken by either side. The Greeks profited most by the delay. Reinforcements to their army kept coming in through the passes in their rear, and their numbers were considerably increased. EFFECTIVENESS OF PERSIAN CAVALRY. Mardonius’ attention was called to this fact by a Theban named Timegenides, who suggested that the Persian cavalry should be sent to assail the bands traversing the pass of Dryoskephalæ. The advice was taken, and on the very next night the cavalry was despatched. The fatal weakness of the new Greek position was now made apparent. On its right flank a wide space of practicable ground, traversed, moreover, by the Thebes-Dryoskephalæ road, had been left open, by which the Persian cavalry could without difficulty and without opposition reach the mouth not merely of the Dryoskephalæ pass, but also of that other pass on the Platæa-Athens road, the only two really effective lines of the Greek communications. The Greek army, by taking up so advanced a position, had ceased to cover those passes, and even the Platæa-Megara pass was but imperfectly protected.

The cavalry raid met with immediate and startling success. A Greek provision-train of five hundred pack animals, with their drivers and, presumably, their escort, was annihilated at the mouth of the Dryoskephalæ pass.

H. ix. 40.

During the two next days there was a good deal of skirmishing on the main line of the Asopos, but neither side crossed the stream, so that no decisive result was arrived at. This form of fighting was nevertheless distinctly disadvantageous to the Greeks, who suffered from the missiles of the Persian cavalry without being able to retaliate in any decisive fashion. The Asopos is not a large stream, and at this time of year would be easily traversable at any point. Its bed is sufficiently deep to render it a serious obstacle to the passage of cavalry, if the crossing were disputed, but an undisputed passage could be made without difficulty at almost any point of this part of its course.

H. ix. 41.

Mardonius was becoming impatient at the indecisive character of the operations. The two armies had now been for eleven days facing one another on either side of the Asopos. He had evidently made up his mind that this state of things could not continue, and that a movement of some kind must be made. Artabazos, who had commanded at the siege of Potidæa, advised withdrawal to Thebes, which was only six miles north of their position; it was strongly fortified, and, as the Persian base of operations, was, so he said, amply provided with supplies.[202] H. ix. 41, ad fin. He pointed out that they were possessed of ample funds wherewith a campaign of bribery among the leading men of the Greek states might be instituted. The Thebans advocated the same line of action. They knew their countrymen; so apparently did Herodotus, as his language shows. Mardonius, however, would have none of such advice; he believed his army to be a better fighting machine than that of the Greeks; and it is impossible not to recognize the truth of his view as matters then stood.

A certain amount of light seems to be thrown on this reported discussion between the Persian commanders by an incident which Herodotus reports to have occurred on the night of the same day. Alexander the Macedonian, who has already appeared prominently in the history of this time as Mardonius’ representative in the recent negotiations with the Athenians, is said to have ridden up to the line of the Greek outposts and to have demanded speech with the commanders of the army.[203] After reciting his attachment to the Greek cause, he made one startling revelation as to the state of things in the Persian army, which, if true, would go far to explain the subsequent course of events, and mould put a new complexion upon the advice which Artabazos is represented to have given. He said that he believed Mardonius intended to attack on the following day. If he deferred doing so, the Greeks were not to retire from their position, because the Persian supplies are running short. EVOLUTIONS. If this statement is true, it accounts for the pronounced offensive which Mardonius assumed from this time forward; and, if the enormous difficulties under which the Persians laboured as to their line of communications be taken into consideration, it is extremely probable that it was true. The action of the Phocian refugees away northward was sure to make itself felt in this department of the war.

This part of Herodotus’ narrative takes the form of a series of scenes in which the various prominent actors on either side are introduced upon the stage and use language suitable to the situation; but, though unreliable in form, it can hardly be doubted that these tales indicate in a more or less direct way the actual course of events. That tale among them which is least easy to understand or explain relates to what passed in the Greek camp after Alexander’s message had been reported to the generals.

Pausanias, as commander of the Spartans, is reported to have been alarmed at the prospect of an attack on the following day, and to have proposed to the Athenians that they should exchange places in the line with the Spartans, in order that they might then face the Persian contingent of whose fighting they had had experience at Marathon. The Athenians accepted the proposal willingly; they even said they had been on the point of making it themselves. The exchange was made; but the Bœotians, who noticed it, reported the matter to Mardonius, who made a corresponding change in his own line The Greeks, noticing this, returned to their original order.

As an account of what actually happened this can hardly be taken literally. It seems to refer to some evolution which either Herodotus or his informant did not understand, though what that evolution was it is impossible to say. The Athenian element in the story is evident.

H. ix. 48.

The tale which follows, that Mardonius sent a challenge to the Spartans to fight an equal number of his army, cannot be taken as serious history. Mardonius was well aware that until the Greek infantry were thoroughly shaken by his cavalry it would be unwise to assail them with the Persian foot-soldiers. His action which immediately followed shows this quite clearly. H. ix. 49. He intended,—it may be under the stress of necessity,—to take the offensive in some form. It was probably a case of victory or withdrawal. That being so, he despatched the whole of his numerous cavalry against the Greek army. Herodotus describes the attack in language which leaves no doubt as to the gravity of the situation which it created.

“When the cavalry rode up, they harassed the whole Greek army by hurling javelins and shooting arrows, being horsebowmen, who could not be brought to close combat. The spring of Gargaphia, too, from which the whole Greek army got water, they spoiled and filled up. Lacedæmonians alone were in position by the spring; it was at some distance from the various positions of the rest of the Greeks, while the Asopos was near them. Being driven back, however, from the Asopos, they resorted to the spring, for it was not possible for them to get water from the river, owing to the cavalry and bowmen.”[204]

This remarkable passage indicates with singular clearness what took place at this exceedingly critical moment of the battle. The Greek left was forced by the cavalry to retire from the Asopos, where they had on previous days been skirmishing with the enemy, and to take refuge on the Asopos ridge away from the flat ground.[205] The second position of the Greeks attained, in other words, its third phase or development, in which the whole Greek army was confined to a position on the summit of the ridge.

On the extreme right matters were no less serious. CAVALRY ATTACK OF THE PERSIANS. The cavalry had got round the Greek flank to the Gargaphia spring, and after driving away what was probably a Lacedæmonian detachment on guard there, had rendered the spring unserviceable. The Greek army was consequently without water, and its retirement from the position could be at most a question of hours.

The situation of the Greek army was as critical as it well could be. Between them and the rough ground at the immediate foot of the mountain lay a band of country over which cavalry could ride; and they were cut off, not merely from their water supply, but also from the lines of communication afforded by the three passes. Cf. H. ix. 50. The convoys were blocked by the Persian cavalry, and were unable to reach the camp.

Cf. H. ix. 51, ad init. and 52, ad init.

This fierce attack seems to have lasted two days. On the morning of the second day a Council of War was held, and it was decided, if the attack were not renewed that day, to move to a position which Herodotus calls the “Island.” The attack was, however, renewed, and the movement had to be postponed.[206]

The passage in which Herodotus describes and explains the nature of the proposed movement is not merely of the greatest importance in the history of the battle, but is perhaps still more important as showing the pains which he took to get as accurate a knowledge as possible of the scenes of the greatest events which he describes. It is peculiarly noticeable in the case of Thermopylæ, and it is not less noticeable in this account of Platæa. It is impossible to conceive that he should have been able to write the description of the “Island,” unless he had actually seen the ground. His informant as to the incidents of the battle cannot be presumed to have described it to him, since no part of the Greek army ever attained the position, and he cannot therefore be supposed to have seen it.

“At a meeting of the Greek generals,” he says, “it was determined, should the Persians omit to renew the attack that day, to go to the Island. It is ten stades distant from the Asopos and from the spring of Gargaphia, at which they were at the time stationed, in front of the city of Platæa. This is how there comes to be an island on the mainland: the river, flowing from Kithæron divides high up the hill, and then flows down towards the plain, the streams being about three stades distant from one another, and then they join.... The name of the (combined) stream is Œroë.... To this position they determined to move, in order that they might have a plentiful water-supply, and the cavalry might not do them damage as when drawn up on their front. They determined to move in the second watch of the night,[207] so that the Persians might not see them leaving their position, and their cavalry might not pursue them, and throw them into confusion. They determined, further, on arriving at the new position, which the Œroë, daughter of the Asopos, encloses in its course from Kithæron, to send the half of their army in the course of the night to Kithæron, in order that it might rescue the service corps which had gone for provisions; for it was blocked in Kithæron.”

PLATÆA: “ISLAND,” FROM SIDE OF KITHÆRON.

1. Foot of Helicon.

2. Parnassos.

3. Plain of Platæa.

4. “Island.”

[To face page [480].

Note on the Position of the “Island.”

In order to understand this very important passage, it is necessary to examine the evidence, both documentary and topographical, as to the position of the νῆσος or Island. It will be well to tabulate the facts which Herodotus mentions with regard to it.

(1) It is ten stades from the Asopos.

(2) It is ten stades from the spring of Gargaphia.

(3) It is πρὸ τῆς τῶν Πλαταιέων πόλιος.

(4) The river divides ἄνωθεν ἐκ τοῦ Κιθαιρῶνος, and flows down into the plain.

(5) The streams are ὅσνπερ τρία στάδια distant from one another.

(6) The streams afterwards join one another.

(7) The name of the river is Œroë.

(8) There was a plentiful water supply at the νῆσος.

THE ISLAND.

(9) The cavalry could not annoy the Greeks there, ὥσπερ κατιθὺ ἐόντων.

Both Leake (“Northern Greece”) and Vischer (“Erinnerungen aus Griechenland”) identify a strip of flat ground, lying in the plain due north of the site of the town of Platæa between two of the stream-beds of the Œroë, as the “Island” of which Herodotus speaks.

This identification may be tested by the facts given by Herodotus:

It is when we come to (8) and (9), which are the very reasons stated by Herodotus for the movement to the “Island,” that the position indicated absolutely fails to accord with the conditions.

In respect to water supply it is conspicuously deficient; and of the three streams which cross the plain at this point one was absolutely dry at the time of my visit (Dec., 1892); and this one was that which would have formed the side of the “Island” towards the Persian army, viz. O 1.

The second contained water, but in a much less quantity than before it entered the plain. The third contained water also, but not in any quantity.

This was at a period of peculiarly heavy rains.

In September all of them would almost certainly be dry by the time they reached this part of the plain. O 1, being a pure drainage stream, would be, under ordinary circumstances, dry along its whole course at that time of year.

There would, under no conceivable circumstances, have been water enough in this conjectured νῆσος, at that time of year, to supply an army one-tenth the number of the Greek force. We cannot even assume exceptionally heavy rain (a most extraordinary circumstance in the month of September), for in that case the lands of the Asopos would have been impassable for cavalry, and even infantry would have been unable to cross them. I speak from personal experience. I wanted to get down to the river, in order to get points of survey upon it, since its course is not distinguishable with certainty, even from a furlong off; but after getting into plough, into which I sank above my knees, and after my Albanian servant had come down and nearly disappeared with my plane table, I gave it up. I could not reach it at that point; and that part of the Asopos had to remain marked in my map by a dotted line which, although it gives the course very nearly, does not pretend to the same accuracy as the rest of the map.

Condition (9) really contains two conditions.

(1) The Persian cavalry could not damage the Greeks so much in the former position, because⁠—

(2) They would not attack them on the front

Applying (1) to this conjectured νῆσος, I have no hesitation in saying that the stream-beds which bound it afford no serious obstacles to cavalry for at least ninety out of every hundred yards of their course. A horse could cross them in most places without even easing from its gallop, and, apart from this, the effectiveness of the recent attacks of the Persian cavalry had been due to the fact that it had been fighting with missiles and not at close quarters, as Herodotus expressly says. The Greeks could not have faced them across a watercourse a yard or two broad, so as to be able to prevent their passing it, even had the passage been a work of some difficulty to a mounted man. If further argument on this point be necessary, I can only say that it is impossible to conceive how the generals of the Greeks, having found the Asopos an utterly insufficient protection, could have supposed that the army would be in safety behind these much slighter watercourses. Have the stream-beds altered in character? If any alteration has taken place, it can only have taken the form of the raising of the plain by earth brought down from the uplands, the result of which would be that the channels would be deeper now than at the time of the battle.

Condition (9, 2).—Had the Greek position been on this ground, the attack would certainly have been on the front.

BŒOTIAN PLAIN, FROM PLATÆA-MEGARA PASS.

PLATÆA—WEST SIDE OF Νῆσος.

[To face page [482].

There is another point mentioned by Herodotus which is very difficult to reconcile with the location of the νῆσος in the position in which Leake and Vischer place it. “ISLAND” OF LEAKE AND VISCHER. He says (ix. 56) that when the Athenians and Lacedæmonians did actually begin their movement thither, οἱ μὲν (the Lacedæmonians) τῶν τε ὄχθων ἀντείχοντο καὶ τῆς ὑπωρέης του Κιθαιρῶνος, φοβεόμενοι τὴν ἵππον. Ἀθηναῖοι δὲ κάτω τραφ θέντες ἐς τὸ πεδίον, etc.

Since the Lacedæmonians, had they marched direct from the Asopos ridge to this νῆσος, would not have had to traverse a longer stretch of ἱππάσιμος χῶρος than if they had gone round by the ὑπωρέη (vide map), it is difficult to see why they should have adopted the infinitely more circuitous route.

I do not, however, wish to lay too much stress upon this argument, as I believe the real object of the course taken by the Spartans to have been the relief of the convoys blocked up in the pass on the Platæa-Athens road, a reason which may be deduced from Herodotus’ own words in describing the decision to move to the “Island” (ix. 51)—“They determined, on arriving at this place (the ‘Island’), to send off half the army towards Kithæron in the course of this night, to recover the attendants who had gone after the provisions, they being blocked up in Kithæron.”

It does not seem likely that, after the damage which they had suffered in the second position, they could have come to the decision to send off from the νῆσος of Leake and Vischer one half of the army to the pass. It would be obliged to march across a mile of ἱππάσιμος χῶρος between Platæa and Ridge 4, and to venture itself, at a distance of from two and a half to three miles from the remainder of the army.

The reason which mainly influenced both Leake and Vischer in thus determining the site of the νῆσος was no doubt the question of distance from the Asopos. They assumed that when Herodotus used that name he meant the stream coming from Leuktra and the west. It is almost beyond doubt that he does not mean this stream. The Asopos to him was the stream A 1 with the main stream below the junction of A 1; and it is extremely likely that what was the Asopos to him was also the Asopos to the Platæans. It is only necessary to stand on the site of Platæa and look northward over the plain in order to understand how this nomenclature would arise. The course of A 1 is traceable all along the west foot of the Asopos ridge; but the upper course of the main stream is undistinguishable unless the river be in flood.

As this piece of ground fails in such important particulars to harmonize with Herodotus’ account of the “Island,” it remains to be considered whether it is possible to apply his description to any other part of the field.

One fact is quite evident from Herodotus: the “Island” lay between the branches of the Œroë.

I think it is to be found high up in the interval between the branch streams, at the point indicated in the map, and that it consisted of Ridge 4, and possibly of Ridge 3 also. Any one who takes the higher track from Kriekouki to Kokla cannot fail to be struck by the peculiarity of the ground, should he happen to look down towards the plain at the point where the road passes close to the narrow strip of land which separates the sources of the streams O 1 and O 3. These sources, as will be seen from the map, are close together, and the ridge which separates them is quite low at the narrowest part. The stream O 3 (east branch) flows down towards the plain at first in a deep valley with a very steep slope towards the “Island,” which valley it leaves at the point where the streams which unite to form O 3 have their junction. From this point it flows beneath the “Island,” which rises steeply above it, whereas on the other side of the stream, i.e. on the west side, the ground slopes quite gradually up to the rounded back of the low-lying Ridge 5.

The stream O 1 flows down to the plain in a deep depression.

It is true that at the present day these streams do not join immediately on reaching the plain; but to show how possible it is that their courses in the flat alluvial ground may have altered again and again, within certain limits, in the course of time, I may mention that when Colonel Leake visited this ground, the stream O 2 did not join O 3 at the point where it now joins it, but was a separate stream from it at the point where the Kokla-Thebes track passes the branches of the Œroë, i.e. more than a mile below their present junction.

There is another very striking point about this piece of ground, which is noticeable in its contouring in the map. Its insular character is, if I may so say, emphasized by a large hillock which rises on it close to O 3, and which is a most prominent object, especially when viewed from Platæa itself. This hillock may be identified by any one visiting the ground, owing to its having on the south slope of it a white building, the only building existing between Kriekouki and Kokla.

THE “ISLAND.”

It will be found on examination of the evidence that this locality corresponds most closely with the description of the “Island,” given by Herodotus, and furthermore that the incidents of the battle, as related by Herodotus, support in a remarkable degree the hypothesis that this is the island which he describes. It may be compared with the nine conditions deducible from Herodotus with the following result:⁠—

If, however, O 2 be taken as the boundary of the “Island,” then there would be this rocky ground on the far side of it The valley of O 2 is not, however, so deep as that of O 1.

The only point, then, at which this ground would be assailable by cavalry would be at the north end or bottom of the slope. This brings me to the second part of Condition 9.

(9a) The last fact mentioned explains Herodotus’ words, ὥσπερ κατιθὺ ἐόντων.

Such, then, are the reasons, taken from Herodotus, which induce me to take what may appear to be, and is, I confess, a very decided view as to the position of the ground called the “Island.”

I think, too, that there are other considerations of a strategic character which support this view.

A brief examination of the map will show that it would have been difficult for the Greek generals to have chosen a spot in the whole neighbourhood of Platæa which would have rendered their position in case of disaster a more hopeless one than it would have been had they withdrawn to the “Island” of Leake and Vischer. The possibility of disaster must have been very present to their minds at the time at which the decision was made to move to the “Island.”

Herodotus’ description of the state of the army under the continued attacks of the Persian cavalry is brief but graphic. Its position was, beyond doubt, exceedingly serious. But what would have been its position had disaster overtaken it on that tongue of land in the plain of Platæa? It would in the first place have been surrounded by the Persian cavalry, since the ground between it and Platæa, a considerable stretch of land, is all ιππάσιμος χῶρος, and to all intents and purposes absolutely flat. Supposing even that it did try to cut its way out, it would have been obliged either to retreat to the west towards the Corinthian Gulf, or to make its way to one of the passes. In either case the result must have been the practical, if not actual, ruin of the Greek army.

MOVEMENT TO THE “ISLAND.”

The way to the Corinthian Gulf, however, would be outside all calculation, since⁠—

As regards the three passes which lead on to the field, can we, if we bear in mind the condition of the Greek army at the time of the movement, suppose for a moment that the Greek generals would move to a position farther away from the passes than they were before the movement began? Surely their natural course would be to retire to the higher ground, where they would be in comparative safety from the Persian cavalry, and where, in the position I have indicated, they would be exactly between the passes on the Platæa-Megara and Platæa-Athens roads respectively, and where, too, they would be in easy communication with both by way of the rocky part of the Kithæron slope.

The last piece of evidence bearing on this point is afforded by the remarkable tale of Amompharetos, the Spartan officer who refused to move from the second position with the rest of the Lacedæmonian force. The reason which prompted (H. ix. 53) him in his refusal is stated by Herodotus to have been the disgrace of retreating before the enemy.

The feeling is hardly comprehensible if the movement was to be to the “Island” in the plain; it is comprehensible if it was to be towards Kithæron, since he might well suspect that the real design of Pausanias was to retreat through the mountain into Attica.

At the time at which this resolution was taken the Greeks were for the moment a beaten army. What might have happened had the proposed movement ever become an actual fact cannot of course be said, but it is extremely probable that a leakage through the passes would have commenced, by which its numbers would have been so rapidly reduced that an absolute withdrawal from Bœotia would have shortly become necessary. Had that been the case, Northern Greece must have been lost. It would have been very difficult after what had happened to keep together so composite a force in an advanced but purely defensive position. As far as the Greek generals were concerned, their design, doubtless, was to remain on the defensive in Bœotia, now that their offensive strategy had not met with success, and to starve the enemy out of the country. Alexander of Macedon had reported to them the approaching failure of the Persian supplies.

They had failed in attempting to take the offensive in a country which was peculiarly adapted for the operations of cavalry. They had been led by the success they had achieved in the first position into the mistake of remaining in a position which could only be justified by an active offensive, not recognizing that their success on that occasion had been due to the wrong use which Mardonius or Masistios had made of their numerous cavalry. The passes formed, as it were, their immediate base; and they had not recognized that by leaving an interval between themselves and that base they exposed their line of communications to the attacks of an arm against whose mobility they had nothing to match, and had rendered themselves assailable from all sides by a mode of assault which made it impossible for them to retaliate in adequate fashion. It was their first experience of the possibilities of cavalry action on a large scale; and it is noticeable that in the many subsequent years of warfare with Persia in that century they never again willingly exposed themselves to the possibility of such a reverse as they had suffered in the second position at Platæa.

The curious piece of land, with its curious name of the “Island,” which was fixed upon by the Greek commanders as the goal of the proposed movement, is easily recognizable at the present day, owing to the accuracy with which Herodotus describes it. It is one of those ridges which extend northwards into the plain from the foot of the rocky slope of Kithæron; but it is remarkable among them for two peculiarities. LAST HOURS ON THE ASOPOS RIDGE. The streams which bound it on either side have their sources on the mountain slope above it within but a few yards of one another, so that it may be said to be all but surrounded by water; and the ordinarily rounded back of these northward stretching ridges is varied in this case by a steep and very noticeable natural mound which rises upon it. It is nearly two miles due south of the ridge which formed the Greek second position, and about one mile due east of the town of Platæa. As a position it offered the distinct advantage of being within touch of the Platæa-Athens and Platæa-Megara passes, and of affording the army comparative immunity from cavalry attack.

The Greek commanders were disappointed in their hope or expectation that the cavalry attack would not be renewed on that day, on the morning of which the Council of War was held. The Persians had plain evidence of the effectiveness of the method they were employing; and for the whole of a second day the Greeks had to support a series of assaults without being able to inflict any proportionate damage on the foe. Those who have been in the plains of Bœotia during the heat of the late summer and early autumn will best appreciate the terrible hardships which the army suffered. For at least forty hours it must have been wholly cut off from water, and for a considerable part of that time must have been undergoing severe exertion and supporting severe losses under a burning sun upon that dusty, rolling plain. It is evident indeed that the Persian cavalry withdrew during the night; but they had, before doing so, rendered the Gargaphia spring unusable. The longed-for darkness came at last, and at the appointed hour the movement began. It began, indeed,—but it ended vary differently from what had been intended. With the exception of the Spartans and Athenians, the Greek army, without waiting for further orders, started off in haste at the time appointed, —but not to the “Island,” so says Herodotus. They never even thought of so doing, but were glad to take refuge just outside the town of Platæa, around the temple of Hera.[208]

It is quite plain that Herodotus believed that the centre of the Greek army fled in something resembling a panic, and neither obeyed, nor intended to obey, orders. When the story is examined it is found to contain several features which are very difficult to reconcile with the colouring which Herodotus has given to it. If these Greeks intended to fly, why did they not make directly for the Platæa-Megara pass, which must have been open? Why did they go to Platæa?

Having gone thither, why did they not seize upon the town?

It has been suggested that in going thither they were carrying out orders, and that the position at the Heræon was part of the position of which the “Island” was another part. The nature of the ground between the two positions, and their distance apart, does not render this very probable.

The probability is that, like so many stories of incidents in Greek history, this particular one has suffered from the exaggeration of some of its true details, and the loss of others.

It is not strange that the events of the last two days’ fighting on the Asopos ridge should have created disposition to panic throughout the Greek army. Doubtless such a disposition did exist, and showed itself in the hurried departure of a large portion of the army. But even Herodotus does not say that the departure was premature. So far, the tale may give a true representation of the facts of the case. RETIREMENT OF GREEK CENTRE. What in all probability took place was that the retiring force started without taking due precautions to ascertain the exact line of retreat, or to provide itself with guides who could lead it amid the darkness of the night to the position which had been appointed as the rendezvous of the army. If that were so, a mistake was not merely possible, but almost inevitable. In that country of rise and fall which lies between Kithæron and the Asopos, one slope resembles another, and one stream is similar in character to its neighbours, so that there is a conspicuous absence of those landmarks which may serve as a guide to one who traverses it by night.

It is not difficult to imagine their position when they found themselves at the Heræon. They must have arrived there in the night, and may have thought it well to wait until dawn disclosed the true position of the rallying point of the Greek army. From the Heræon the “Island” would be full in sight, when the advance of daylight had rendered the surrounding country visible. But the dawn can have brought but little comfort to them. It is more easy to realize the scene that met their eyes than the intensity of this anxiety which that scene aroused. Away to the east the “Island”—empty, unoccupied. To the north-east the Persian army pouring in streams over the ridge which they had evacuated during the night, and from the hollow beneath that ridge two clouds of dust arising, sole indication of the terrible struggle which was going on beyond the intervening ridges. This is not merely a picture of the imagination and no more. It is what these men must have seen from their position at Platæa; for the narrative of Herodotus indicates with sufficient clearness the time and the locality of the battles which were fought on that fatal morning by the right and left wings of the Greek army.

It would be unjustifiable to pass a decisive judgment on the conduct of those Greeks. The extent of their cowardice is not indeed calculable. The tradition which Herodotus followed tended manifestly to depict the whole attitude of the Peloponnesian Greeks, both on this and other occasions in the war, in the most unfavourable light. There can be little doubt that the tradition was Athenian in origin.

It is not, however, necessary to assume that in this or any other particular instance the truth was distorted in order to cloke Athenian failings. The animosities of that later time at which Herodotus wrote his history are quite sufficient to account for the discoloration of facts, and in this particular instance there does not appear to be any valid reason for supposing that the Athenians had anything to conceal.

Much had happened during the night of which the Greek centre was wholly unaware.

Pausanias on the right wing, on seeing that the troops in the centre had begun the movement of retirement, gave orders to the Spartans to do the same. He supposed that the other Greeks would, according to orders, withdraw to the “Island;” and, as has been seen, it is probable that the latter had every intention of so doing.

A question now arises which is of very great importance with regard to the history of the battle. Was it the intention of Pausanias that his Spartans on the right wing should likewise withdraw direct to the “Island,” or did he intend to carry out some other operation before joining the rest of the army in that position? Herodotus, whose attention is at this point in his narrative distracted by the not unimportant tale of Amompharetos, makes no direct statement on the subject, but he furnishes sufficient indirect evidence to render it almost certain that the march of the Spartans neither was, nor was intended to be, directed straight to the “Island,” but aimed first at the accomplishment of a design which was at the moment of the utmost importance to the army. It is further noticeable that the indirect evidence of Herodotus is peculiarly supported by the light which is thrown upon the further incidents of the battle by the topography of the field.

In describing the resolution to move to the “Island,” Herodotus, it will be remembered, says that it was the intention of the Greek commanders to send half the army to relieve the provision trains which were blocked in the passes; and the other evidence shows that the Spartans’ movement from the second position had this immediate object in view.[209]

OBSTINACY OF AMOMPHARETOS.

When, therefore, Pausanias saw the Greek centre was starting for the “Island,” he gave orders to his division of forty thousand Spartans and helots to move also, intending to march towards the pass on the Platæa-Athens road, and, possibly, towards Dryoskephalæ pass also. For the moment, however, his plan was completely upset by the obstinacy and insubordination of one of his captains, Amompharetos, who, so Herodotus says, commanded the Pitanate division of the Lacedæmonian force.[210] The refusal to obey was evidently based on the supposition that the withdrawal from the position was nothing less than a preliminary to a retreat.[211] Orders and expostulations proving alike unavailing, persuasion was tried, but with no better effect. The whole night seems to have been wasted in the dispute, for it was not until day was dawning that Pausanias moved away, reluctant to leave the regiment to its fate, but hoping that when Amompharetos found himself alone he would make up his mind to follow. The Tegeans accompanied the Spartans in their movement.

That movement is described in some detail by Herodotus. While the Athenians, who had been suspiciously waiting for the Spartans to move, turned down towards the plain, the latter kept to the hills, and made for the slopes of Kithæron, from fear of the Persian cavalry.[212] Amompharetos, on seeing that the rest of the Spartan army was leaving him in good earnest, started slowly after it, which movement being perceived by Pausanias, he stopped the main body in order to wait for him. He had by that time advanced ten stades, or a little more than a mile, from his previous position, and he waited at a place which is described as having been near the river Moloeis, in what was called the Argiopian country, where was a temple of Eleusinian Demeter.

The Temple of Eleusinian Demeter, etc.

Herodotus, in the words recently quoted, gives the following facts:⁠—

(1) That Pausanias, with the main body of the Spartans, advanced ten stades, and then waited for Amompharetos and his regiment.

(2) That he waited at the river Moloeis, in what is called the Argiopian country.

(3) That there is a temple of Eleusinian Demeter in that part.

To which may be added from an earlier chapter:⁠—

(4) Pausanias, after failing to persuade Amompharetos, starts at dawn: his movements Herodotus describes as having been as follows:⁠—

H. ix. 56.

“He gave the signal and led away the whole of the rest of his force through the hills; the Tegeans also followed him.... For the Lacedæmonians intended to keep to the hilly ground and the foot-slopes of Kithæron, because they feared the cavalry.”

TEMPLE OF ELEUSIAN DEMETER.

Circumstances (1) and (2) may be taken together.

This is the first mention of the river Moloeis.

Nothing is known of the position of the Argiopian country; but it may be surmised that it had some more or less striking characteristic which caused it to be called by a special name.

Any identification of these two geographical features must be a matter of extreme uncertainty.

After my stay at Kriekouki in 1892–1893, I was disposed to identify the brook A 5 with the river Moloeis. I am inclined, after revisiting the country in August, 1899, to think that the brook A 6 is more probably the stream mentioned by Herodotus. It is the largest of the streams which traverse the field, save, of course, the Asopos itself, and Leake, in his map, assigns to it the name of the main stream. Though the Spartan army after advancing ten stades from the Asopos ridge would not be actually on this brook, yet, even granting to the measurement given a greater accuracy than perhaps it can claim, the position attained might be described as περὶ ποταμὸν Μολόεντα.

The matter, however, is so uncertain, that it is impossible to insist on either of these two identifications against the other.

The name Argiopian has been supposed to mean “white rock,” and, adopting this interpretation, one visitor to the region has discovered that there is a patch of white rock on the side of Kithæron which is a prominent object from the plain. As we were in August, 1899, encamped in the plain near the head of brook A 5, I had ample opportunity for observing the north slope of Kithæron. No such patch was then visible on the dull grey-green rock slopes of the mountain. As to the interpretation of the name I am, I confess, sceptical. The interpretation of place-names in Greece, as elsewhere, is a most dangerous though fascinating pastime; and it is but too often the case that the most obvious interpretation is the most incorrect. All, I think, that can be safely assumed in the present instance is that the Argiopian country was a stretch of land marked off in some way from its surroundings, and I venture to think that either the Long Ridge or the Plateau has sufficient peculiarities, quâ ground, to render it possible that either of them might in ancient times have been known by a distinctive local name.

The temple of Eleusinian Demeter is a more important landmark in the history of the battle.

I venture to think that the ruins of the church of St. Demetrion are probably on or near the site of that temple, and that the τέμενος of the temple was on the flat top of that mound of the Long Ridge. The reasons which may be adduced for this identification are as follows:⁠—

(a) The Christians, in cases in which they adopted an ancient temple, or the site of an ancient temple, for a church, were apt, in dedicating the new sanctuary, to make a pious pun on the dedication of the pre-existing pagan shrine. This kind of nomenclature has been peculiarly common in Greece.

(b) It is true that Pausanias mentions several temples of Eleusinian Demeter as having existed in this immediate neighbourhood, no one of which can be supposed to have stood in this position.

But it is also clear that the temple mentioned by Herodotus is not any one of these mentioned by Pausanias.

Cf. Paus. ix. 4, 2, at Platæa; ix. 4, 3, at Skolos; ix. 9, 1, Grove of Demeter at Potniæ on the road from Thebes to Platæa, ten stades from Thebes, i.e. about sixty stades from Platæa.

The omission of Pausanias to mention the one to which I refer may possibly be accounted for by the fact that it lay, if I am right, not near the great road from Athens to Thebes, viâ Dryoskephalæ, but near the alternative and probably much less frequented route between the two towns by way of the Platæa-Athens pass.

(c) Pausanias (ix. 2, 6) says: “The trophy of the battle of Platæa which the Greeks set up stood about fifteen stades from the city.”

It would be in accordance with Greek custom that this trophy should be set up in that part of the field where the decisive engagement took place. If, as I take it, it was fought just south of the hill on which the ruined church of St Demetrion stands, a trophy placed on or near that site would be almost exactly two miles from the town of Platæa, or a little more than seventeen stades.

(d) This hypothesis as to the site of the temple receives peculiar confirmation, as I shall show, from the account given by Herodotus of the subsequent incidents of the battle, but it will, I think, be best to take the order of the incidents as given by Herodotus.

In Plutarch’s life of Aristides (xi.) is a topographical detail which would present considerable difficulty, were it not accompanied by other details which show the absolute valuelessness of Plutarch as an authority on the topographical question. He is speaking of the time at which a move from the first position was contemplated: “Near Hysiæ Kithæron is a quite ancient temple called (the shrine) of Eleusinian Demeter and Kore.” He says further on that the rocky slope of Kithæron meets the plain near the temple, and then adds that the Heroön of Androkrates was there also, surrounded by a thick grove of trees.

Pausanias mentions (ix. 2, 1) a temple of Apollo among the ruins of Hysiæ, but says not a word of any temple of Eleusinian Demeter being found there.

But the reference to the position of the Heroön of Androkrates shows that either Plutarch has made a great error, or that his language is hopelessly inexact.

If latter be assumed to be the case, the temple of Demeter to which I have referred might, I think, be described as being near what I take to be the site of Hysiæ. It might even, owing to the height of Kithæron, be described as underneath that mountain. As to the position of the temple being near the edge of the ύπωρέη, it may be pointed out that the site of the modern Kriekouki is a part of the rocky mountain-side which projects far into the plain, but stops far short of the church of St. Demetrion.

But even the utmost looseness of language will hardly account for the assertion that the Heroön of Androkrates was near this temple, still less that it was near the site of Hysiæ.

The explanation of the difficulty is, I take it, that Plutarch was a biographer and not an historian; and consequently he may not have thought, nay, he evidently did not think it necessary to deal intimately with the topography of the battle. There is very little topographical detail given by him, though as a Bœotian he had most probably traversed one or more of the roads which cross the field. He makes no mention of the νῆσος, either directly or indirectly:⁠—a most strange omission if he insisted at all on topographical detail.

There is in the passage above referred to a clause which is in direct conflict with Herodotus’ narrative. Plutarch speaks of τὰς ὑπωρείας ... ἄφιππα ποιούσας τὰ καταλήγοντα καὶ συγκυροῦντα τοῦ πεδίου πρὸς τὸ ἱερόν, whereas Herodotus describes a cavalry attack as having taken place upon this ground. Furthermore,—and this is a most important point if Herodotus’ account of the fighting be correct,—the temple of Demeter certainly lay on the Persian line of retreat after they had been defeated by the Spartans; that is to say, it was almost certainly between the place where the final action took place or began and the Persian camp.

Again, I think that the words of Herodotus, in describing the first phase of the second position of the Greeks as “near the Spring of Gargaphia and the τέμενος of Androkrates the Hero, through hills of no great height and level country,” can only mean that the τέμενος was on the left of the Greek line; for the ἀπέδος χῶρος can only be the plain between Platæa and the Asopos which comes from Leuktra, and this position for the τέμενος accords with the details given by Thucydides. How, then, the τέμενος be described as near the temple of Demeter, if the latter was near Hysiæ?

On the question of the value of Plutarch’s evidence relative to the battle, I agree with Colonel Leake:⁠—

“It is scarcely worth while to advert to the particulars in which the other ancient authors who have related this great event differ from Herodotus; Diodorus and Plutarch lived so long afterwards that they cannot have much weight against the testimony of the contemporary historian. The former does not, however, deviate from it in any important point, and the contradictions of the latter are undeserving of much respect, as being those of a Bœotian angry with Herodotus for having spoken freely of the disgraceful conduct of his countrymen, and thinking no mode of exculpation so effectual as that of throwing general discredit on the historian’s accuracy.” (“Travels in Northern Greece,” vol. ii. p. 353.)

The movement of the Spartans was directed towards the pass on the Platæa-Athens road. It was evidently their object to avoid as much as possible the unimpeded ground of the plain on which the Persian cavalry could act, and with this intent they seem to have diverged slightly from the direct route to the pass in order to gain the northern end of that rocky bastion of Kithæron whereon the modern Kriekouki stands, a point at which the rocky mountain foot projects for some distance into the plain. SPARTANS LEAVE THE SECOND POSITION. They would thus take a direction S.S.E. from their position on the Asopos ridge, and must have passed the now useless Gargaphia spring on their way. After proceeding thus for ten stades, or about a mile and a furlong, they waited for Amompharetos and his company, whose reluctant movement from the late position they would be able to see from the moment that it began. It must therefore have been near the head waters of the two streams which run northwards on either side of the Long Ridge that this delay took place; and either the easternmost of these streams or the larger brook which skirts the site of Kriekouki on the west would seem to be the river Moloeis of which Herodotus speaks. Looking northward from that position, the highest point of the Long Ridge would rise in front of them in the form of a flat-topped table-land, bounded on either flank by the steep-sided stream valleys,[213] with the temple of Eleusinian Demeter, of which Herodotus speaks, upon its summit. The flat table-land itself formed doubtless that sacred precinct of the goddess of which Herodotus has something more to tell. Somewhere in the neighbourhood was the Argiopian country of which the historian speaks, all trace of whose name and identity has long vanished into the past. Possibly the plateau to the east of the Long Ridge bore that name in ancient times.

It was in the position which they had thus attained that they were fated to fight the decisive engagement by which the long-drawn struggle was won. They never reached that rocky projection where Kriekouki now stands.[214]

H. ix. 57.

“Those with Amompharetos joined them, and the whole of the barbarian cavalry assailed them,” says Herodotus, in one significant sentence.

In the gathering light of the dawn the Persians beyond the Asopos had noticed that the ridges which the Greeks had occupied for more than a fortnight past were vacant, and had sent forward their cavalry to overtake the retreating enemy. Amompharetos seems to have just managed to reach the main body before the attack fell; but the reunited force had no time to move before the cavalry was upon it. The ground on which it stood at the time was as unfavourable as it well could be. The bottom of the ridge lying west of Kriekouki sinks into the depression in a long gentle slope, affording a terrain admirably suited to the operations of the Persian cavalry; and it was on this ground that the Spartans were obliged to make their stand. The object of the cavalry attack was evidently to prevent the Greeks from attaining, before the Persian infantry should have time to come up, the strong position which the rocky slopes of Kithæron would afford. Mardonius made the fatal mistake of supposing that the Greeks were a broken as well as a beaten army,[215] and his sole anxiety seems to have been to render the victory complete. Had he been able to appreciate the real circumstances of the case, had he been content to abide by the tactics he had employed on the previous days, the whole history of the battle might have been changed.

H. ix. 59.

Having despatched his cavalry in pursuit of the Greeks, Mardonius lost no time in hurrying forward his infantry across the Asopos on the track of the retreating foe.[216] It is interesting to notice that it was against the Lacedæmonians and Tegeans alone that his efforts were directed, the line of retreat of the Athenians on the right wing of the Greeks being hidden from him by the hills.[217]

It was with the Persian infantry that Mardonius led the way; but the rest of the army followed with much speed and little order, eager to take part in the rout of the enemy with whom they had been so long face to face. They must have ascended the long gradual slope of the theatre which is formed by the curve of the Asopos ridge on its north front, and, arrived at its summit, they would see on the low ground southward the large mass of the Lacedæmonian contingent engaged by their cavalry.

BEGINNING THE GREAT FIGHT.

Pausanias had no illusions as to the serious nature of the cavalry attack, but sent an urgent message to the Athenians, who were at this time making straight for the Island, to come to his help with all speed.[218] The message is recorded, after the manner of Herodotus, in what purport to be the words actually used. Without unduly insisting upon the letter, its spirit is remarkable. The Spartans are represented as having placed the worst construction upon the conduct of the Greek centre in withdrawing from the position on the Asopos ridge before they had done so themselves. And yet it will be remembered that Herodotus expressly says that these “runaways” did not leave that position until the hour which had been originally fixed for that movement. But here these allies are represented as cowards and traitors to their friends. The whole question of the conduct of the Greek centre at this stage of the battle is an exceedingly difficult one; the only thing which seems to be clear is that those Greeks who bore the burden and heat of this day of decisive battle rightly or wrongly regarded them as having yielded to a panic of fear. The condemnation was probably unjust; but it is not possible to demonstrate conclusively that it was so.

H. ix. 61.

The Athenian help never reached the Spartans, and so they were left to fight the battle alone. It was no small combat. Over fifty thousand Greeks on the one side were face to face with what must have been numerically a still more formidable force—a force which may have been indeed several times their own in number. The Persian cavalry adhered to the tactics which had been so effective on the previous days, avoiding close fighting, and making the assault with arrows and missile weapons from behind a barrier of shields. Many of the Lacedæmonians fell, and many more were wounded in this unequal combat, in which they must have been able to inflict but little damage on their mobile opponents. The sacrifices were unfavourable; and so the Greeks did not take the offensive. Pausanias must have been wholly in agreement with the sacrifices, knowing well, it may be apprehended, that his only chance of salvation lay in offering a firm front to the attack, and in preventing the assailant horse from finding its way through the line of Greek shields. The Persian infantry was, of course, by this time aiding the assault, and it must indeed have been their shields which were set up to form the extemporized stockade. This went on for a long time. Pausanias was probably waiting till the press of the enemy became sufficiently great to deprive their front ranks of that mobility from which the Greek hoplite had most to fear. When this state of things supervened he let his men loose upon the foe, after offering up a prayer to Hera, which that goddess answered by rendering the sacrifices favourable. It is probable that the attention which the Greek commander paid to sacrificial omens was due rather to their effect on the minds and courage of the common soldiers than to any undue trust which he placed in them as indications of the tactical policy to be pursued.

H. ix. 62.

The Tegeans were the first to attack the mass of barbarians opposed to them, and after an interval the Lacedæmonians did the same. They first had to break through the barricade of shields; then the battle became a fierce hand-to-hand struggle. Herodotus bears testimony to the fact that the Persians were no whit inferior in courage, but being without heavy defensive armour, they were no match for the most experienced and best drilled infantry in Greece. Cf. ix. 62, ad fin. They evidently made fierce efforts to break through the iron-clad line of the enemy, charging singly and in groups. But it was all of no avail; not even the most desperate courage could compensate for the immense disparity of weapons, and the men who had “made the tour of Asia on foot,” and had fought and conquered the numerous peoples of the East, found themselves utterly unable to cope with an army drawn from one small corner of the Western Continent. Mardonius had made a terrible miscalculation when he launched his comparatively light-armed infantry against the Greek hoplites. He paid for his mistake with his own life. H. ix. 63. Surrounded by a picked FLIGHT OF THE PERSIANS. body of Persians, he was himself in the midst of the mêlée, and was naturally marked out by the Greeks for attack. At last he fell, but not until the assailants had paid dearly for their success.

PLATÆA: PANORAMA FROM SCENE OF LAST FIGHT.

1. Hills North of Kopais.

2. Mount Kandili (Mekistos) in Eubœa.

3. Hills between Kopais and Euripus.

4. Mount Dirphys in Eubœa.

5. Valley of Stream A 4.

6. Temenos of Demeter.

7. Valley of Stream A 5.

8. The Plateau.

[To face page [502].

It is not difficult at the present day to follow the course of this struggle.[219] After their commander’s fall the Persians gave way, and were pushed down the gradual slope towards the stream valleys which ran on either side of the precinct of Demeter,[220] affording them direct lines of retreat to their camp. The stream of fugitives would divide where the rise of the ground towards the precinct begins, and would naturally take the easier and quicker routes afforded by these valleys. H. ix. 65. They fled in disorder to their camp and stockade. Herodotus notes with pious emphasis the fact that, though the fight had raged near the temple, none of the sacrilegious destroyers of her temple at Eleusis fell within the consecrated ground about this shrine of Demeter. On more materialistic grounds it would be extremely unlikely that men flying for their lives in panic flight should ascend the hill whereon the sanctuary and its precinct stood, when easier avenues of retreat were ready for them on either side of it.[221]

Such were the fortunes of what had been the Greek right wing. It is now necessary to follow the movements of the Athenians who had been stationed on the left of the second position.

It is clear that the two days’ cavalry attack had driven back the Greek left from the Asopos; and, in the final phase of its tenure of the second position, the army must have been massed on the summit of the Asopos ridge; so that the left would be at no great distance from the right.

H. ix. 54.

The Lacedæmonian delay in starting upon the movement of retirement seems to have aroused suspicion in the minds of the Athenians, if Herodotus’ narrative is to be believed. He does not mention any specific cause for the distrust in the present instance, other than the delay caused by the obstinacy of Amompharetos, attributing it rather to general grounds: “They knew the Lacedæmonians had a way of intending one thing and saying another.” The conduct of the Athenians is not consistent with the tale of suspicion; and the tale itself probably does something less than justice to the Athenian motives for remaining at their post of danger. It is noticeable that when they do move they take a wholly different line to the Spartans, showing that they did not suspect them of any intention of deserting the army, and consequently the only conceivable motive they can have had in waiting must have been the desire that the withdrawal should be covered, if necessary, by a sufficient number of the Greek army. As, however, the Spartans started just before daylight, and the Persians did not immediately discover the movement, the Athenians evidently thought that there would be no danger in carrying out the original design; so, while their allies made their way towards the passes, they took the easiest route to the Island.

They apparently started on their movement about the same time as the Lacedæmonians. Their course can be traced with fair certainty. From their position on the Asopos ridge north of the ruins of the church of St John, they did not take the direct line for the Island, which would have led them past the site of that modern sanctuary, but descended to the western slope of the ridge to the Platæan plain.[222]

On reaching it they would pass up the course of that stream which Herodotus identifies with the upper Asopos,[223] and would be marching in a straight line for the Island. ATHENIANS AND MEDIZED GREEKS. The route adopted was indeed but little longer than the direct route, and would be easier, as it lay along the level plain. H ix. 60. It must have been at some point in the course of this march that the message from Pausanias reached them, announcing the attack of the Persian cavalry, and urgently entreating them to come to his assistance, or at any rate to send their bowmen to his help. H. ix. 61. On receiving this the Athenians diverged from the line of march, and started towards the place where the Spartans were being sore pressed by the cavalry. Shortly after this change of direction had taken place they were attacked by the medized Greeks who were with the Persian force, and were thus prevented from assisting the Spartans. The circumstance that this fight seems to have been out of sight of that part of the Greek army which was at Platæa, renders it probable that the Athenians had turned from the plain along the line of the modern track which leads from Leuktra to Dryoskephalæ, and that the medized Greeks, coming up over the Asopos ridge in the neighbourhood of the church of St. John, overtook them in the hollow near the springs of Apotripi, where a fierce engagement took place. H. ix. 67. Although the rest of the medized Greeks voluntarily played the coward on this occasion, the Bœotians showed that they had not espoused the Persian cause to no purpose, and for a long time maintained an obstinate struggle, losing three hundred of their best and bravest in the battle. In the end they had to give way, and fled in disorder to Thebes.

H. ix. 68.

The whole Persian army was now in full flight, save the cavalry, which made a brave and, for the time being, a successful effort to cover the retreat, though it could not prevent the pursuing Greeks from inflicting severe losses upon the fugitives.

H. ix. 69.

It was at this time, says Herodotus, that the Greeks at Platæa first heard that a battle had taken place, and that Pausanias and his men had won the day. They must have spent an anxious morning on that rocky slope near the Heræon, not venturing to move, because uncertain what they ought to do, and knowing nothing of their friends save that they were not at the Island, where, according to arrangement, they should have been. They may perhaps have seen the Athenians moving along the foot of the Asopos ridge shortly after dawn, and the Persian army as, a little later, it streamed across that ridge, must have been plainly visible; but from the moment when the Athenians disappeared into the hollow near the springs of Apotripi, until they received this message, all they can have seen or heard must have been the clouds of dust rising from two points in the depression beneath the northern ridges, and the confused and distant noise of an engagement. They seem to have played an inglorious, if not a cowardly, part in sitting still while these things were going on; but if it be borne in mind that the little they did see of the movements of their friends and of the enemy on the fatal morning was wholly inexplicable by the orders they themselves had received, or by anything that had happened within their knowledge, their inaction may seem natural. Herodotus is not inclined to put the best construction on the conduct of those who were drawn largely from those Greek states which had advocated what seemed to him the cowardly blunder of confining the defence to the Isthmus.

The receipt of the message, therefore, put them for the first time in possession of certain information as to what had happened since they had parted from their allies on the Asopos ridge on the preceding night. The news, such as it was, was good; and they started immediately with a view to take part in the victory. The details which Herodotus gives of their movements afford conspicuous proof of his remarkable excellence as a topographer, though they also illustrate his limitations as a military historian.

The Greeks at Platæa divided into two bodies; and from the description which the historian gives of the lines of advance which they adopted there can be little doubt that, though he does not mention the fact, they marched respectively on the two places where fighting was going on. H. ix. 69. The advance was hurried and disorderly. The one body was composed of the Corinthians and those with them—the right centre. THE GREEK CENTRE. It took a line along the rocky slope of Kithæron and through the hills, along the upper way leading straight to the temple of Demeter. Its course was evidently along the rocky slope at the south end of the ridge[224] which intervenes between Platæa and the Island, over the head waters of the streams which form the Island,[225] and then over the open and unimpeded ridges towards the temple.[226] This division of the Greek centre seems to have reached the Lacedæmonians in safety, and may even have taken part in the last stages of the struggle near the temple. The other division, composed of Megareans, Phliasians, and the rest of the Greek left centre, was not so fortunate. H. ix. 69. They took “the most level way through the plain.” Herodotus is evidently under the impression that they also were making for the temple of Eleusinian Demeter; but the course they took, which must have been along the base of the ridge between Platæa and the Island,[227] together with the fact that they came across the Bœotian cavalry at a time at which it cannot have been covering the retreat of the medized Greeks,—at a time, that is to say, at which they were still engaged with the Athenians,—suggests that they aimed at giving assistance to their friends in that part of the field, and that the Bœotian cavalry sought, not in vain, to prevent them from so doing. The conjecture is further supported by Herodotus’ statement that they were “near the enemy” when the Theban horse caught sight of them; and that cavalry must presumably have been engaged at the time in battle with the Athenians. Their disorderly and hurried advance cost them dear. The Thebans cut them to pieces, killing six hundred of them, and driving the rest in headlong rout towards Kithæron.

This was the only disaster which befell any section of the Greek army on that eventful day. No doubt the Athenians and Lacedæmonians suffered severely—more severely than the Greeks ever admitted; but in any case they paid but a cheap price for their great victory.

H. ix. 63.

Herodotus is fully aware that it was to the superiority of their weapons that the Greeks owed their success. “The main cause of the Persian defeat was the fact that their equipment was devoid of defensive armour. They sought, exposed as they were, to compete with heavy armed infantry.”

The enthusiasm with which he hails the victory is rare with him. Salamis left him comparatively cold; but of Platæa he says that there “Pausanias the son of Kleombrotos the son of Anaxandrides gained the most glorious victory on record.”[228]

The historian was right in thus attributing to Pausanias and his Lacedæmonians the chief credit of the victory. The decisive conflict was fought beneath the shadow of the temple of Eleusinian Demeter.

The two defeated bodies of the enemy fled in different directions. The Persians retreated to their camp, where, thanks to the bravery of their cavalry in covering their rout, they had time to man the stockaded portion of it before the Greeks came up. The beaten Bœotians, on the other hand, fled straight to Thebes, probably striking the Platæa-Thebes road shortly after recrossing the Asopos.

H. ix. 66.

One division of the Persians, a body of forty thousand men, under the command of Artabazos, neither took part in the final struggle nor took refuge in the stockaded camp. With singular foresight, their commander was strongly opposed to the attack on the apparently retreating Greeks, apprehending that it could only end in disaster. He only brought up his men in time to meet the stream of fugitives from the battle, and then turned right about and departed without further ado for Phocis.

LOSSES IN THE BATTLE.

In the course of the pursuit the Lacedæmonians, as would be expected from their position in the field, arrived first at the stockaded camp; but, with that noteable incapacity in the attack on fortified places which is one of the most striking and least comprehensible features in Greek military history, they failed to make any impression on it, until the Athenians, who possessed more skill in this respect, came up. A successful assault was made, the Tegeans being the first to enter the stockade. Then ensued a massacre, in which it is reported that thirty thousand men perished. H. ix. 82, ad init. Plunder, too, of great value fell into the hands of the victors, for Xerxes, in his precipitate flight to the Hellespont, had left behind him much of the extraordinary paraphernalia which he, like other Oriental monarchs of other ages, thought necessary to bring with him on campaign.

H. ix. 70.

It is doubtless the case that the numbers of those who perished on the Persian side were very large, though much exaggerated in later tradition. On the Greek side the losses, as given by Herodotus, were ninety-one Lacedæmonians, seventeen Tegeans, and fifty-two Athenians. It is evident that this statement refers only to those who fell in the fighting of the last day of the battle; but, even so, it may be suspected that there is a considerable understatement. It is, indeed, the case that, throughout the history of the fifth and fourth centuries, the losses of Greek armies in victorious combats against Orientals are singularly small; but it is hardly credible that on the present occasion, when the Persian infantry and cavalry fought with all the confidence of success, that the large mass of their opponents, the majority of whom were light-armed, lost but ninety-one men in a somewhat protracted engagement; still less is it credible that the Athenian loss was so small when matched against an enemy armed like themselves.

Of the Greeks that took part in the fight, Herodotus considers that the Lacedæmonians distinguished themselves most, and after them the Athenians and Tegeans.

Any one who realizes the difficulties which must have faced the historian of the fifth century when seeking to discover the truth with respect to the incidents of a battle which had been fought years before he began even to collect his materials, must admire the success which Herodotus has attained in his description. At the same time, that description is of such a nature, and is so manifest in its limitations, that a careful reader can distinguish without difficulty the kind of sources from which it is drawn. There is hardly any trace whatever of any official record lying behind it; it does not even seem as if the historian drew his information with regard to any one of its incidents from any one who was acquainted with the design of those in command. The account, as it stands, seems to be mainly built upon a foundation of evidence furnished by some intelligent observer or observers present at the fight in some subordinate position. This fact would account for the entire absence of any mention of any plan, strategic or tactical, on the part of the Greek generals. Two motives continually brought forward for the movements of the Greek force are the want of water and the damage wrought by the Persian cavalry; and these are the very motives which would present themselves to the mind of a Greek soldier to whom the plans governing the battle were unknown. It is fortunate that sufficient details of a reliable character have been preserved to make it possible to see the general nature of the design entertained by those in command in what was certainly the greatest and most interesting of the Hellenic battles of the fifth century. But, while the major part of Herodotus’ narrative rests on the basis of information thus supplied, there are undoubtedly parts of it which are drawn from traditional sources. He seems to have interwoven into the main story incidents drawn both from Athenian and from Spartan, or possibly Pan-Hellenic traditions; for instance, the tale of the shifting of the positions of the Athenians and Spartans in the Greek line of battle, and possibly the tale of Amompharetos, together with passages here and there which show a bias in favour of some particular element in the Greek army. But, judged even by modern standard, there is but little to find fault with in the account, in so far as its fairness is concerned. The only section of it which shows signs of personal feeling on the part of the narrator himself, is that relating to the conduct of the Greek centre after the withdrawal from the second position. SURVEY OF THE BATTLE. In that case it may be suspected that what has appeared to him the reprehensible and selfish policy of the Peloponnesian states in the previous period of the war, has coloured his view of the conduct of their contingents on this particular occasion. His failure to appreciate the strategy and larger tactics is in accordance with what is found elsewhere in his history; and though it renders his narrative difficult to unravel, it makes the demonstrable accuracy of the tale which he does tell all the more remarkable.

A battle so great and so important must necessarily excite the imagination of any student of history. It is hardly an exaggeration to say that much of the environment of our daily life at the present day owes its existence to the issue of that struggle in the hollow beneath the temple of Eleusinian Demeter. Had the great battle turned out differently, as it so very nearly did, the whole history of the fifth century might have been altered. Surely it was one of the strangest battles ever fought; it was indeed more of the nature of a campaign within an extremely circumscribed area. The operations were spread over a period of certainly not less than three weeks, reckoning from the arrival in Bœotia up to the time of the capture of Thebes; and it is possible even to argue from Herodotus’ narrative that they covered a period of four weeks. But the most remarkable point with regard to them is not perhaps their protracted nature, but the extraordinary variations of success and failure which attended the operations of either side. It was eminently a battle in which the ultimate success was due, not to the excellence of the dispositions made by the victor, but to the mistakes made by the vanquished. Theoretically those mistakes were hardly greater than those which the victor made: practically they were fatal.

The Greeks arrived in Bœotia and took up their position with a general intention of striking at the Persian and his base of operations along the Dryoskephalæ-Thebes road. Finding this blocked by the Persian position, they were probably somewhat at a loss as to what course to pursue next. Opinions were, doubtless, divided as to the significance of that factor of unknown but suspected value in the Persian camp, the cavalry, for, owing to its absence at Marathon, the European Greeks had had no opportunity of testing its effectiveness. Mardonius was not slow in providing them with an experiment in his desire to win what would have been a striking success by piercing the Greek centre, and seizing the pass in its immediate rear, he made the mistake of using his cavalry against unbroken heavy infantry in a position which offered exceedingly restricted opportunities for such an attack, with the inevitable result that his men were beaten back with considerable loss. There can be little question that the Greek commanders misread the results of that experiment, and mistakenly assumed that what had occurred on the low ground in front of Erythræ gave satisfactory assurance of the capacity of the Greek army to face the enemy’s cavalry in the plain. It did not, apparently, occur to them that it was one thing to face that cavalry in a position where the attack could only be on their front, and, moreover, on but a small extent of that front, and quite another thing to meet it on the open plain, where its extreme mobility, compared with their own immobility, would render it able to assail front, flank, and rear at the same time.

Their immediate object of attack was Thebes. It is little short of absurd to suppose that a people such as the Greeks reversed without cause the whole system on which they had hitherto conducted the war, and entered Bœotia with a witless lack of design.

Their plan was to force the Persian to retire from Northern Greece, and from Bœotia first of all, and so to get rid of the danger which manifestly threatened them, the establishment of a new frontier of the great Empire within their own borders. If the enemy’s tenure of Thebes could be rendered impossible, he must retire northward; and against Thebes therefore their operations were directly aimed. The fatal weakness of their plan was their lack of cavalry; but it was the very form of weakness whose significance, from their lack of experience in that arm, they were least capable of gauging.

In spite of this, their design in moving to the second position might have been effective, had they been able to execute it before the Persians received information of what they were doing. STRATEGY AND TACTICS AT PLATÆA. A flank attack suddenly delivered by the whole Greek army could hardly have failed to lead to decisive results. With such an end in view, they moved along the side of Kithæron, and then, advancing into the plain, deployed the army in that depression which was hidden from the Persian camp by the northern ridges,[229] so as to be able to advance in battle array directly upon the Persian right flank. But on reaching the summit of the Asopos ridge, they found that their movement had been discovered by the enemy, and that he had also moved in such a way as to make a flank attack and a surprise alike impossible. The position was, for the time being, stalemate; and remained so for at least a week, neither side venturing on a direct frontal attack. But the situation began to develop rapidly so soon as Mardonius launched his cavalry against the short Greek line of communication with the passes. The position became desperate when he began to use his horsemen in the effective way in which that excellent Asiatic light cavalry could be used, to harass the Greek infantry by a form of attack which they were wholly unable to meet in adequate fashion.

The Greek force was obliged to retire from the Asopos ridge. Mardonius, if he had only known it, had won the battle, in the sense that he had rendered impossible all further offensive operations on the part of the enemy in the plains of Bœotia. He was too eager to convert the defeat into a rout, when, on seeing that the Greeks had evacuated their position during the night, he launched the whole of his infantry against them. The mistake was fatal, irremediable. The rout of his infantry was such that no effort on the part of his cavalry could restore the battle; all that it could do was to cover the retreat as far as the stockaded ramp. Marengo is perhaps the only other great battle in history which presents so startling a reversal of fortune. Platæa was lost and won. Truly the Persian was the rock on which he himself made shipwreck.

With the capture of the stockaded camp the battle ended. Two Greek contingents arrived on the scene after the fighting was over, the Mantineans and Eleians. The incident is chiefly remarkable as showing how extraordinarily difficult it was to instil into the population of the Peloponnese the necessity of prompt united action against the common foe. Their delay does not seem to have been due to cowardice, but to an absolute failure to appreciate the necessities of warfare waged beyond their own borders, with an enemy who was prepared to keep the field for an indefinite length of time. Their disappointment in not sharing in the victory was no doubt genuine enough,—the Mantineans are even reported to have offered to pursue the retreating army of Artabazos as far as Thessaly,—but it is significant for the trustworthiness of Greek official records that the Eleians, probably owing to their close and friendly relations to Sparta at this time, got their name engraved on the official lists both at Olympia and at Delphi of those who had taken part in the battle.

H. ix. 77.

Many tales told by Herodotus of individual exploits display all the traces of the embellishment of later tradition. One of them, however, is notable. It may be true, or it may be an invention, for an Æginetan plays the part of villain in the plot; but it shows in any case the incorruptible character of a not unimportant side of Greek civilization. An Æginetan of rank, named Lampon, is represented as having advised Pausanias to requite on the dead body of Mardonius the outrages which the barbarians had inflicted on the corpse of Leonidas after his death at Thermopylæ. Pausanias’ striking answer lays down the law that, even under circumstances of the greatest provocation, Hellenic civilization should never imitate the barbarism of the foreigner. It was, perhaps, owing to the very vagueness of their ideas as to the afterworld, and to the prevalence of the old Homeric view that in any case the future life could be at best but a shadow of the present, that they regarded the mortality of the body with most touching sympathy. To a people who lived, enjoyed, and appreciated every moment of their vivid life amid the light and colour of the East, the dead body, whether of Greek or Barbarian, was the material presentment of the loss of all they valued most.

AFTER THE BATTLE.

The spoil which the Greeks collected from the Persian camp seemed to them of enormous value; and Pausanias took special precautions for its collection, employing the helots alone for this purpose. If Herodotus is to be believed, these precautions were not entirely successful; for the Æginetans persuaded the helots to sell them many of the valuables for a mere nothing, and by that means acquired considerable wealth. The tale, however, must be read in the light of after-history, when the long-standing enmity between Athens and Ægina reached its culminating point.

A tithe of the plunder was dedicated to Delphi, offerings being also made at Olympia and the Isthmus. It belongs to the romance of history that, amid the wholesale and irreparable destruction of the monuments of the great ages of Greece, the most remarkable of the memorials of the battle survives at the present day. Near the great altar at Delphi was set up a golden tripod upon a lofty stand of three entwined snakes, on which was engraved the names of the Greek states which had sent contingents to Platæa. This most interesting and most important monument of antiquity still in part remains. The snake pillar was removed by Constantine to Constantinople. Amid all the vicissitudes in the subsequent history of the great city it has survived. It still stands in a mutilated form, the heads of the snakes having been broken off, exposed, alas! to the weather in front of the great Mosque of Sultan Achmet.

The burial of those who had died in the battle was next carried out. The body of Mardonius had vanished—how, no one could say; but Herodotus thinks that some Greeks had been paid to give it sepulture, and he knows that many subsequently claimed and received money from the son of Mardonius for having so done. The Greek dead were placed in graves, according to their nationality, Paus. ix. 2, 5. and centuries later Pausanias saw those graves by the side of the Platæa-Megara road, just before it entered the town of Platæa. There are numerous rock-hewn tombs remaining at the present day in the same locality; and it would seem as if a cemetery had in later times been established on the ground in which the heroes of the battle were buried. Among the Spartan dead was Amompharetos, whose obstinacy had been so largely instrumental in bringing about the victory. Some of the Greeks, says Herodotus, who had no dead to bury, owing to the inglorious part they had played, raised tombs there “for the sake of posterity.” The unfortunate Æginetans, of whom the historian in this part of his history has no good word to say, are reported to have caused such a tomb to be raised at Platæa ten years after the event.[230]

The Greeks spent ten days over the distribution of the spoil and the disposal of the dead. Before leaving Bœotia they determined to settle the long account standing against the Thebans and the Bœotians generally. They can hardly be blamed for the bitter feeling which the policy of that people had aroused in their breasts. The treason of Bœotia to the national cause had indeed been beyond forgiveness. From the very outset its attitude had been doubtful and suspicious, even before the time when the desertion of Thermopylæ afforded it some excuse for an unpatriotic policy. It is very difficult to form any certain idea of the motives which prompted the Bœotians to medize at all in the first instance, and to medize so energetically in the end. It is probable, however, that from the very beginning the oligarchs in the various cities, adopting the policy of the feudal lords in Thessaly, thought that they could best secure the permanence of their own selfish interests by submission to Persia; and that subsequently the determination of the other Greeks to make no attempt to defend the land north of Geraneia caused the mass of the population to side with a policy which afforded them some possibility of saving their rich lands from wholesale ruin. The decision once taken, they displayed at least the merit of thoroughness. PUNISHMENT OF THE THEBANS. Their medism was by no means passive. They had staked all on the Persian success, and could expect far less mercy from the Greek patriots than, as a fact, they actually received. That being so, they remained faithful to their new allies after Salamis, and showed no disposition to revolt during that winter of 480–479, while Mardonius was far away north in Thessaly. It may be that they were acquainted with that alternative design of conquest whose conjectured existence can alone account for the strategy of Greek and Persian alike previous to the battle of Platæa. They had so thoroughly identified themselves with the invaders, that the success of the Greek in the war might be expected to prove far more dangerous to them than that of the Persian. Moreover, public opinion in Bœotia was that of the few rather than that of the many; and the few evidently conceived that their interests in the present and future alike were intimately bound up in the success of Persia, whose Government had shown in its treatment of the Ionians that it was sufficiently civilized to appreciate the advisability of ruling Greeks by means of Greeks.

The patriots seem to have recognized that the responsibility for the treason of Bœotia rested not so much with the whole population as with its leaders; H. ix. 86. for they aimed not at a wide measure of revenge, but at the punishment of those prominent men who had led the people astray. They marched on Thebes, and demanded the surrender of the medizing party, and especially of the prime instigators, Timegenides and Attaginos. The town was blockaded, but still the Thebans refused to give up the men; so the wall was attacked and the lands in the neighbourhood laid waste. On the ninth day of the siege Timegenides proposed that, in order to save the country, the assailants, if they wanted money, should be bought off; or, if they persisted in their demand for the surrender of himself and his fellow culprits, they should give themselves up, and take their chance of a trial. His hope was, evidently, that bribery would do its work. The Thebans gave up all save Attaginos, who escaped. It is a strange commentary on Greek character that Pausanias did not entrust the prisoners to the judgment of a pan-Hellenic court, fearing, as Herodotus plainly hints, that bribery might secure their acquittal, but took them away to Corinth, where he had them executed. It is, perhaps, a still stranger commentary on Greek character that a Greek historian should have dared to insert such a suspicion into an account of what was in many respects the crowning incident in the national history.

Of the fate of the defeated Persians Herodotus says nothing. They probably streamed back to Asia in a miserable and ever diminishing train. H. ix. 89. Even Artabazos, who made good his escape, thought it necessary to conceal from the Thessalians what had happened in Bœotia, and himself suffered severe losses in a retreat which must have been a counterpart on a smaller scale of that of Xerxes the year before. He did not venture along the coast route, but took an inland course, and finally reached Asia across the Bosphorus by way of Byzantion.

Appendix Note 1.—The Account of the Battle given by Diodorus.

It is, perhaps, impossible to say from what authorities other than Herodotus Diodorus drew his account of the battle. We have had reason to see that, despite his carelessness as to chronological details, he sometimes displays the merit of having followed valuable authorities whose original work is not now extant. This is noticeably the case in his account of Salamis. His narrative of Platæa seems to rest mainly on the history of Herodotus, together with elaborations either of his own or taken from his main authority, Ephoros. One great omission, and his looseness in the treatment of his facts, make it impossible to accept his evidence, where it differs from Herodotus’ version, as being of historical importance. I do not therefore propose to do more than tabulate the main points of resemblance and difference in the two accounts.

(1) He, like Herodotus, says that the first position of the Greeks was near Erythræ (D. xi. 29).

(2) He represents the Persian force as having been at Thebes when the news of the Greek advance into Bœotia reached Mardonius. Herodotus does not say this; but he does, of course, give an account of a banquet at Thebes somewhere about this time, at which the principal Persians were present (D. xi. 30).

ACCOUNTS OF DIODORUS AND PLUTARCH.

(3) His account of the first cavalry attack of the Persians differs from that of Herodotus in certain details. He seems to represent the Athenians as having been the first to be attacked; but he also represents them as subsequently extricating the Megareans from their dangerous position.

(4) He mentions, more emphatically perhaps than Herodotus, the feeling of elation and confidence among the Greeks at the defeat of the Persian horse and the death of Masistios, whom, however, he does not name.

(5) He mentions the movement to the second position, his description of which corresponds very well with what I think must, from the description of Herodotus, have been the locality of the second phase of that position.

(6) The rest of his narrative appears to be a version of Herodotus’ account of the last great fight which took place in the course of the movement to the “Island.” Consequently there is a large gap in his narrative (D. xi. 30, 31).

Generally speaking, he represents the Greeks as having taken the offensive in a more emphatic way than we should suppose did we take the account of Herodotus without reading between the lines of it.

Appendix Note 2.—The Account of the Battle given in Plutarch’s “Aristides.”

The account of the operations of the army as a whole, in so far as it is given, follows closely the account of the same events given by Herodotus, and is, apparently, largely taken from his narrative. It is noteworthy, however, that all that Herodotus says relating to the “Island” is omitted, and a doubt is expressed as to the accuracy of his statement with regard to the part which the Greek centre played on the decisive day of the struggle. The reasons given for this doubt would, however, seem to indicate that Plutarch had not fully estimated the significance of this part of Herodotus’ story. That Plutarch did not rely wholly on Herodotus in writing the account of the operations of the army is shown by his reference to Kleidemos for an unimportant and not very probable detail (Plut. Arist. 19). Still, his narrative, in so far as it relates to the events mentioned by Herodotus, coincides very closely with the account of the latter.

Appendix Note 3.—Note on Platæa.

In the American Journal of Archæology, 1890, p. 460, Mr. Irving Hunt, who spent some time at Platæa as one of the members of the American School of Archæology engaged in superintending excavations on the site of the ruins of the town, has written an account of the battlefield. A slight map of the field is added at the end of the volume; it is, however, on a very small scale, and does not mark any natural features at all save the streams.

Mr. Hunt seems to accept most of the identifications previously made by Leake; and as these have been already discussed, there is no reason to refer to them again here. The point, however, in his paper with which I wish to deal at length is his determination of the site of the temple of Eleusinian Demeter.

He places it “on high ground south-east of Platæa, where are the foundations of a large Byzantine church, six minutes’ walk east of the spring of Vergutiani.” Over the ground to which Mr. Hunt refers, six minutes’ walk could be at most five or six hundred yards. He says that it is probable that the trophy erected by the Greeks was near the temple of Eleusinian Demeter. This was, no doubt, the case. He then quotes Pausanias (ix. 2, 6), who states that this trophy was fifteen stades from Platæa, ἀπωτέρω τῆς πόλεως, the comparative of distance being used, as elsewhere in Pausanias, in a positive sense. Mr. Hunt says that the ναός of which he speaks is at that distance from the ruins of the city.

The Vergutiani spring is about 2100 yards from Platæa, therefore this ναός is about thirteen stades from the city, a discrepancy of distance which does not render the position impossible.

But when we come to compare the situation of this ναός with the details in Herodotus, which enable us to fix approximately the position of the temple of Eleusinian Demeter, some very serious difficulties arise.

(1) Pausanias had only moved ten stades from the second position when he waited for Amompharetos in the neighbourhood of the temple. This site is 4000 yards, i.e. twenty stades, from what is clearly defined as the second position.

(2) This ναός is on the rocky ὑπωρέη. TOPOGRAPHICAL CRITICISM. Also, from Herodotus’ account, the temple of Eleusinian Demeter must have been between the Spartans and the Persian camp. If this, then, coincides with its site, the Spartans, who must have been south of it, were on ground on which cavalry could not act, and Herodotus’ account of the cavalry attack becomes incomprehensible.

(3) A battle in this position must have been within sight of the Greek centre at the Heræon. Herodotus’ views as to the conduct of the Greek centre are not such as to render it probable that he would have implied that the battle took place out of sight of them when in that position, unless such had actually been the case.

(4) The topographical detail of Plutarch, to which Mr. Hunt refers, is manifestly unreliable, as has been shown in a previous note.

CHAPTER XII.
MYKALE AND SESTOS.

The complete change from their former strategy on land which the Greeks had shown by their advance into Bœotia had its counterpart in the contemporaneous exploits of the fleet Herodotus has already described, not without rhetorical exaggeration, that dread of the unknown which kept the Greeks in the Western Ægean, and prevented them from carrying the war to the Asian coast. But at some period, presumably in the late summer of this year 479, all this fear was suddenly dispelled, and in consequence of certain information given by some Samian refugees, and of an appeal made by them, it was determined to carry the war into the enemy’s waters. It is probable that this was by no means the sole definite information which reached the ears of the European Greeks with respect to the state of affairs on the Ionian coast. Throughout the whole summer, in fact ever since Salamis, more or less authenticated reports must have come to them of the possibilities of the situation in those parts, which finally confirmed them in the opinion that the time had come for offensive action. But the message from Samos was very definite, and brought the news for which the Greeks had long been waiting, that the Ionians, if supported by the presence of a fleet upon this Asiatic coast, would revolt. The appeal, moreover, was couched in a form which stirred the very depths of that peculiar national spirit which abhorred the idea of the Hellene being any man’s subject. Hegesistratos the Samian called upon them, “by the gods they all worshipped, to save Greeks from slavery and drive away the barbarian.” A PHASE OF THE HELLENIC SPIRIT. This Hellenic spirit was, and is, a very noble thing, noblest perhaps in a peculiar limitation to which it would be hard to find a parallel in history. It ever prompted those inspired with it to trade-venture all the civilized world over,—to colonization which necessitated indeed an encroachment on the territory of others, but which never in any single instance aimed at the acquisition of dominion over the lands or persons of others beyond what was absolutely requisite for the new plantation. More than this it did not demand. It knew not land-hunger. All that it postulated was that the Greek should be free to settle where he liked, in the form he liked, and with that political freedom which meant so much to him. And so it is even now. A race, largely alien in blood, has imbibed the very spirit of the land, and amid the struggles of the last century has demanded with persistence the rights of freedom for all who bear the name of Greek, but has never in any single instance sought to extend its dominions over peoples who cannot claim the Hellenic name. It was perhaps the very exclusiveness of the spirit which gave it that pent-up strength which enabled it, under the ægis of the bastard Hellenism of Macedonia, to establish in a few short years an influence destined to last for centuries over a wide area of civilization peculiarly alien to its own.

It is a very noticeable fact in the history of the fifth century that, neither at this particular time nor later, is there any national idea of action in Asia aiming at the expulsion of the Persian from regions wherein the Greek had not settled. Even throughout the history of Greek action in the whole region of the Mediterranean in the fifth century only two apparent violations of the spirit are to be met with,—the Athenian expedition to Egypt, and the aspirations with regard to Carthage which Aristophanes attributes to the Athenian populace at the time of the Peloponnesian War. And even these exceptions are rather apparent than real, aiming, as they evidently did, not at the acquisition of dominion over others, but at an assault on the jealous “protectionist” policy of the Phœnician trader.

The summons from Samos was therefore one which was calculated to stir the inmost nature of those to whom it was addressed; and sentiment, combined with opportunity, induced the European Greeks to venture that from which they had shrunk but a few months before.

Apart from this, it is quite plain that those who directed the great operations had determined late in the summer of 479 to adopt the offensive by sea as well as land, should a favourable opportunity for so doing present itself; and it is a fact of extreme significance for the study of military history in the historians of the fifth century that no mention of such a design is found in Herodotus. It is quite evident that he was seldom, if ever, able to acquire information as to the plans upon which the operations of the war were carried on.

One of the assertions of the Samian Hegesistratos is striking from its lack of correspondence with the general evidence on the subject of the comparative merits of the Greek and Persian ships of this time. H. ix. 90, ad fin. He says that the Persians “are bad sailors, and not capable of meeting the Greeks in battle.” In point of sailing qualities the reference can only be to the non-Phœnician portion of the Persian fleet. The Phœnician vessels of this time were handier and, probably, better handled than the Greek; and some of the improvements made a few years later by Kimon in Greek naval architecture were undoubtedly suggested to his experience by certain points of superiority in the vessels produced by the skilled shipwrights of Tyre and Sidon.

Hegesistratos was, of course, the advocate of intervention. H. ix. 91. Leutychides, the Spartan commander of the Greek fleet, is represented as having been persuaded by his advocacy, and to have accepted his offer to accompany the fleet with the other members of the deputation, in the guise of hostages for the truth of their assertion. But much must have taken place before this time to render such a decision on the part of a Spartan commander possible.

The fleet made straight from Delos to Samos, along the line of islands. MYKALE. They arrived first at a place in Samos called Kalamoi, whose position is not now known, but which, judging from the story of what took place immediately afterwards, was probably on the east coast of the island. H. viii. 130. The Persian fleet had been stationed at the town of Samos ever since the beginning of the year, but now, on the approach of the Greeks, it passed across the channel to the mainland. For some inscrutable reason,—possibly because they could not keep it in the Ægean against its will,—the Phœnician contingent had been allowed to sail away. H. viii. 130. The number of ships in the fleet originally stationed here had been three hundred, but though still formidable in quantity, it must have been inferior in quality. The Phœnicians had gone; and the Ionians would have been dangerous allies were a Greek fleet on the east side of the Ægean. The Persians therefore wished to decline an engagement, and retired to Mykale, where a large land army, under the command of Tigranes, placed there by Xerxes’ orders, was watching the Ionian towns. They intended to place the fleet under the protection of this force, drawing up the ships on shore, and running a stockade around them. This plan was carried out. Strabo, 636. Landing at the mouth of a brook named Guison, Pliny, v. 113, etc. which was on the south side of Mykale, the Persians took up their station at a place whose name Skolopœis suggests that it was derived from the stockade constructed on this occasion. Herodotus further adds that there was a temple of Eleusinian Demeter in the immediate neighbourhood.

The stockade constructed was apparently of a formidable character, made of wood and stone. H. ix. 97. Herodotus says of it that it was prepared alike in view of a siege and of a victory, referring doubtless to some feature in its design which cannot now be conjectured.

The retirement of the Persian fleet to this strong position, and its practical conversion into a land force, placed the Greeks at Samos in a situation of considerable difficulty. They were, as might be expected, prepared to contest the supremacy of the enemy by sea rather than by land; and Leutychides may well have hesitated to employ the force he had with him for an attack in which the fleet, as fleet, could play little if any part. It was debated whether, under the circumstances, they should sail to the Hellespont or return to Greece. It was finally decided to take the bold course and to assail the enemy at Mykale, though everything about the fleet was made ready in case, after all, the Persians should risk a sea-fight.

On their reaching Mykale the enemy showed no sign whatever of a disposition to put out and meet them. Seeing this, Leutychides in his own ship sailed close in shore, and sought by means of a herald to enter into communication with the Ionians in the enemy’s army, and to persuade them to desert the Persians during the coming engagement, a policy in which, as Herodotus remarks, he imitated that of Themistocles at Artemisium. No immediate effect resulting from this appeal, H. ix. 99. Leutychides disembarked his troops without any opposition on the part of the enemy, presumably, therefore, at some distance from their camp. But whether owing to Leutychides’ action, or to the distrust of the Ionians which the circumstances of the time must inevitably have aroused among the Persians, measures were taken to render them as innocuous as the situation permitted. The Samian contingent was forthwith disarmed. The people of that island had rendered themselves peculiarly open to suspicion by ransoming and forwarding home five hundred Athenian prisoners which the Persians had picked up in Attica at the time of Xerxes’ invasion. The Milesians also were despatched from the camp on the pretext of acting as guards of the passes over the peaks of Mykale, but really, so Herodotus says, in order to obviate the danger of keeping them within the actual fortifications.

The Greeks now advanced to the attack. In reference to this advance Herodotus mentions a curious tale. He says that a report ran through the army at this moment to the effect that the Greeks were victorious over Mardonius in Bœotia. Naturally enough, he ascribes this strange rumour to supernatural influence, since, according to his narrative, the two battles occurred on the same day. A STRANGE REPORT. It is not perhaps impious to suggest that if, as he positively asserts, the battle at Mykale was fought on the same day as the final engagement at Platæa, the report which reached the Greek army in Asia related to the success attained in the first position at Platæa some weeks before this time, but was referred by later tradition to the final defeat of Mardonius’ army. However the report arose, it greatly cheered the Greeks. Herodotus, in speaking of their exultation, mentions incidentally two noticeable facts with regard to their feelings at this time. He says that their fear had been not for themselves, but for the success of the Greeks against Mardonius. If it be remembered that the fleet when at Delos must have heard of Mardonius’ retirement from Attica, and had also, it would seem, heard of the march of the home army into Bœotia, their fear strongly supports the conjecture that they knew that the object of that army was not to merely guard the passes of Kithæron, but to take the offensive against the Persian. It is hardly conceivable that, after Mardonius’ retirement, they should have felt apprehensions of this nature about the army, had its object been merely the defence of the Kithæron range, since the enemy had plainly shown by his retreat from Athens that his main desire was to be north of that range, and that he would have but little motive for throwing his men against mere defenders of passes which he had shown that he did not want to use. Furthermore, the possible intentions of Mardonius in making Thebes his headquarters may have alarmed the Greeks by indicating the nature of a policy, not indeed so terrible as that wherewith the expedition was originally undertaken, but constituting, all the same, a most serious danger to all the states of Southern Greece.

Relieved of this fear, they went into battle with a good heart, feeling, says Herodotus, “that the Hellespont and the Islands would be the prize of victory.” Not a word of the Ionian towns on the mainland. The Persian position was indeed too strong in respect to these.

H. ix. 102.

The march was evidently parallel with the shore, along it and the level ground in its neighbourhood, and also along the hillside, cut up, as the hillsides of that land always are, by numerous water-courses. The result was that the Athenians and those with them, advancing along the unimpeded level, came into contact with the enemy before the Lacedæmonians, who were advancing along the slope of the mountain. If Herodotus’ description is strictly worded, H. ix. 102. the Lacedæmonians were engaged in some kind of a turning movement.

The Athenians were therefore probably guilty of a tactical error in beginning the attack before the movement was complete.

The Persians adopted the same form of defence as in the last fight at Platæa, using their shields as a breastwork; and for some time the battle was fought without advantage to either side, until the Athenians and those with them, eager to win the victory before the Lacedæmonians came up, broke through this barrier and fell in a mass upon the Persians, who, after an obstinate resistance, retreated within their fortifications. The Athenians, Corinthians, Sikyonians, and Trœzenians, however, followed close on their heels, and seem to have reached the breastwork with the fugitives, so that it was captured without difficulty. Except the native Persian contingent, the enemy now took to flight the former, however, resisted in scattered groups with all the bravery of a great reputation,—the Old Guard of this Asiatic Waterloo. In this combat two out of the four Persian generals fell. The Lacedæmonians came up while it was in progress, and their arrival put the coping stone on the enemy’s discomfiture. But the assailants, and especially the Sikyonians, paid dearly for their victory, so Herodotus says; and Greek historians are not in the habit of exaggerating Greek losses in battles with barbarians. Meanwhile the disarmed Samians did what they could to help the Greeks, and, following their lead, the other Ionians attacked the Persians in the camp. The Milesians, who had been sent to the peaks of Mykale, now played the part which, under the circumstances, they might be expected to play. So far from acting as guides to safety, they led the routed fugitives into the very hands of the Greeks, and themselves took part with zeal in the slaughter which ensued. At last Miletus had the opportunity of avenging its destruction at the end of the Ionian revolt, and it is certain that the bitterness of the last fourteen years found ample expression and ample satisfaction on this day of revenge.

H. ix. 104, ad fin.

“Thus,” says Herodotus, “Ionia revolted a second time from the Persians.”

THE FATE OF IONIA.

He makes no comment upon the fact. It would have been difficult for him to do so. He had regarded the first revolt as a conspicuous blunder, probably because he looked upon it as premature. Even now he sings no pæan of emancipation. Maybe the Halikarnassian believed that, in spite of the brilliant success of the year, the permanent freedom of the Ionian towns could never be secured so long as Persia retained its hold on West Asia. He wrote with well-nigh a century of experience behind him; he died a century before there arose a power upon the Ægean whose unity of strength made it fit to cope with the dead weight of the Persian power in Asia.

The Athenians were credited by popular tradition with having played the greatest part in the battle; but it may be suspected that had Leutychides’ version of the fighting survived, it might have contained some criticism of the error of a premature attack, to which the escape of a large part of the Persian army was probably due.

After destroying the enemy’s camp and fleet the Greeks withdrew to Samos with such booty as they had captured.

H. ix. 106.

The action of the Ionians at Mykale had raised the whole question of the future of the Asiatic Greeks. There was a large section in the fleet who saw,—what the sequel proved to be correct,—that the European Greeks were not in a position to maintain the freedom of continental Ionia against the Persians for an indefinite space of time. That would have meant the maintenance of a large garrison within the various towns, such as the highly composite Greek alliance could not regard as within the realm of practical politics. It was consequently proposed to tranship the Ionians en masse to the European shore, and to leave Ionia to the Persian. The strategic position of the Ionian cities was indeed fatally weak.

But, after all, it would hardly be the strategical question that presented itself to the Greeks gathered at Samos. What they did know was that these Ionian cities had failed to resist conquest by Lydia and Persia, and had failed in one tremendous effort to throw off the Persian yoke; and that one of the conspicuous causes of failure had been the difficulty of sustained united action. Of the commercial advantages and their causes, they were probably as well aware as the best instructed modern student with the best maps at his disposal.

It was, no doubt, this balance of advantage and disadvantage which led to the division of opinion in the council as to the best course to be pursued. H. ix. 106. The Peloponnesians were in favour of planting the Ionians on the lands of the medized Greeks at home. To this proposal the Athenians offered an uncompromising resistance, and claimed that they alone had the right to decide the matter, since the Ionians were colonists of their own. The claim was a shadowy one; but the resistance was successful. It is noticeable, however, that the Asiatic Greeks who were in the first instance received into the alliance were Samians, Chians, Lesbians, and the other islanders, but none of the inhabitants of the cities of the mainland. Thus were sown the seeds of that famous Delian League which was destined in the near future to play so great a part in the history of the fifth century.

Throughout Greek history the Hellespontine region is the link between Europe and Asia. To it the Oriental seeking to win empire in Europe ever turned, while the European, whether on the defensive or the offensive against the power of the East, was at all times anxious to secure its possession. H. ix. 114. And thither now the fleet from Samos sailed, under the impression, says Herodotus, that it would find the bridge in existence. If such an impression did actually exist with the Greeks at this time, the fact bears strong evidence to the silence and desertion which in these years brooded over that highway of the nations—the Ægean. The fleet was delayed on the voyage by adverse winds, and was obliged to anchor for a time at Lektos. Thence it sailed to Abydos, where the Greeks discovered for the first time that the bridge was no longer in existence.

Hitherto Leutychides and the Spartans with him had shown in this expedition an enterprise peculiarly foreign to them; but now once more a fatal national characteristic began to reassert itself. THE FLEET SAILS TO THE HELLESPONT. Whether because of that homesick conservatism of the race which made it averse to ventures far beyond its borders, and anxious when engaged in them to get quit of the matter in hand at the earliest possible opportunity, or from a lack of intelligence which failed to grasp the proper issue of a situation, Sparta was ever wont to leave her tasks unfinished, especially if they demanded absence far from home. And so it was now. On the plea that the only object of the expedition to the Hellespont had been to ensure the destruction of the bridge, they renounced all idea of further operations for the time being, and set sail for home. It may be doubted whether they genuinely believed that the disappearance of the bridge had removed all necessity for further action in this region. The Athenians, at any rate, under their leader Xanthippos, saw that the peril from Persia must ever be recurrent, if that power continued to hold the Thracian Chersonese, that tongue of land which in both ancient and modern times, though for different reasons, has ever been of the greatest strategical importance to Mediterranean powers. They determined therefore to clear the enemy out of this, their tête-du-pont in Europe.

The chief strategic position in the peninsula at that time was Sestos. It lay on the European side of the great ferry of the Hellespont at Abydos, and so commanded the main route from Asia to Europe.

As a place of great military importance, it was the strongest fortress in those parts; and on the news of the arrival of the Greeks at the Hellespont, the Persian population from all the neighbouring towns collected thither under the command of Artauktes, the governor of the region. He was a man who had got an evil reputation among the Greeks owing to sacrilegious behaviour of the grossest character, peculiarly calculated to arouse their most fierce resentment. The arrival of the Greeks in the Hellespont had been so unexpected that he was taken unawares, having made no preparations for a siege. But the inexperience and incapacity of the Athenian assailants in the attack on walled towns, despite the reputation they enjoyed among their fellow-countrymen, who were themselves hopelessly impotent in this department of the art of war, caused the siege to drag out a weary length, until the wane of autumn brought with it that severity of wintry weather from which all the lands within reach of the inhospitable Euxine suffer at that time of year.

The Athenian soldiers and sailors began to weary of the apparently endless blockade, and demanded of their leaders that they should be taken home once more. This request Xanthippos and his captains refused, saying that they must bide where they were until either the town were taken or the Athenian Government sent for them. So they continued to bear their hardships as best they could. Meanwhile the besieged, reduced to the last extremity of want, ate even the leathern straps of their beds. At last, in desperation, the Persian portion of the inmates of the town escaped by night through the besiegers’ lines at a point where there were but few men on guard; but here their success ended. The natives of the Chersonese who were in the town informed the Athenians by signal of their flight, and the latter started in hot pursuit. One body of the fugitives made its escape to Thrace, to meet with a miserable fate at the hands of the wild tribes of that region; but the main body, under Artauktes, was overtaken by the Athenians near Ægospotami, and after an obstinate defence, such as survived, including Artauktes, were brought back as prisoners to Sestos. A tale which Herodotus tells shows that the Persian commander had some apprehension with regard to the retribution which his sacrilegious conduct might bring upon him; for he made an offer to Xanthippos to pay one hundred talents’ compensation for the outrage, and two hundred talents’ ransom for himself and his son. To this offer Xanthippos turned a deaf ear.

The punishment inflicted on the Persian was a blot on Greek civilization. He was nailed to a board, and his son was stoned to death before his eyes. The Greek nature was capable in moments of revenge of inflicting the death penalty in wholesale fashion on enemies who had excited its bitter resentment; but the torture of a captured foe was wholly alien to the spirit of the people. END OF THE CAMPAIGN. Doubtless the Persians, with the ineradicable cruelty of the Oriental, had given many precedents for such a form of revenge; but whether that be so or not, this particular act was inexcusable in a people who claimed for themselves a standard of civilization infinitely higher than that of the world around them.

With the capture of Sestos the campaign of this famous year ended, and with it the great war for the liberation of European Greece. Many years were indeed fated to pass before the present struggle ceased. But from this time forward the war entered upon a new phase, in which the Greek was the assailant. Hitherto he had been acting purely on the defensive; even the expedition across the Ægean had been but an act of the great drama which was being played in Greece. The West had triumphed over the East in one great effort, wherein the success had been rapid and striking. But henceforward the tide of success was destined to flow more slowly,—so slowly, indeed, that ere the end came, victor and vanquished alike had sunk into decay, and alike had fallen into subjection to that newer, broader, and more vigorous but less genuine Hellenism which Macedonia evolved from her heritage in the older type.

CHAPTER XIII.
THE WAR AS A WHOLE.

It is often an invidious task to examine the causes which lie behind any great series of events in military history, because the most efficient of them are in the majority of cases due to human error rather than to human power. The historian of peaceful development is not exempt from the necessity of compiling such records of frailty, but by the very nature of things such tasks fall more frequently to one who narrates the story of periods at which the sanity of the sanest is troubled by the nervous tension involved in participation in events whose issues and their results lie in the immediate, not in the distant future. The errors of war may not be greater, but they are less remediable than those of peace. There may be time to arrest the latter’s slow decay; but the swift and often fatal stab of a lost battle is the work of a moment. Men have in all ages been conscious of the gravity of this truth; and the consciousness of it, apart altogether from the inevitable physical fear, has rendered them less capable at such times of the calculations of reason, or even, in some instances, of common sense.

The great Persian War was of a special type. In the majority of cases in which races and empires have come into collision, each side has had some practical acquaintance with the resources, devices, and fighting qualities of the other; and in many cases such experience has been intimate and prolonged. UNDETERMINED FACTORS. But when the Persian and the Greek of Europe came into collision in 480, such experience can hardly be said to have existed on either side; or, in so far as it did exist, it had been misleading. In only two instances had the European Greek come into contact with the Persian on the field of battle, and in both of them the same Greek state, the Athenian, had alone been represented in the conflict. But, furthermore, the instances had, from a military point of view, been indecisive, if not actually fallacious. At Ephesus, in the first year of the Ionian revolt, a small contingent of Athenians had been present on the defeated side, when the Persians fell on the expedition which had burnt Sardes. Of the battle practically nothing is recorded save the result; but this much may be assumed with certainty,—that a fight in which a small body of European Greeks had been defeated in partnership with hastily raised levies of Ionians could not possibly afford any experience worth calling such to either of the sides who were destined to take part in the war of twenty years later. The Ionians of Asia, long under Persian rule, must have been very deficient in military training when compared with the Greek of Europe. Darius had, indeed, made use of them in the Scythian expedition, but in that instance had employed them to guard the lines of communication. It is manifestly improbable that the Persian Government would encourage any advanced system of military exercises in a people whose position at the very borders of the empire would have rendered them, if accustomed to the use of arms, very dangerous subjects.

Marathon was the other instance. It is a battle of problems, a problem among battles, whose data are woefully imperfect. The only thing about it which seems clear is that, for some reason which can only be conjectured, it formed but an imperfect test of the fighting capacity and methods of Greek and Persian respectively.

Thus, for all practical purposes, when the two races came into conflict in 480 they were, militarily speaking, unknown quantities to one another, and each had to learn how best to meet the strategy and tactics of the enemy. The consequence was inevitable. Both sides made grave mistakes of commission and omission; and it may be even said that the victors made more than the vanquished, though not of such a fatal character. The Corinthians were not indeed wrong when in later days they summed up the causes of the issue of the war by saying that “the Persian was the rock on which he himself made shipwreck;” for of the two main reasons which led to the final victory of the Greeks, one was undoubtedly the fatal nature of the mistakes which the Persians made. They seem, relying on their prestige, and on their enormous numbers, to have held their adversaries too cheaply; and from this fundamental error all their other errors were generated.

Knowledge after the event renders it very difficult to appreciate the circumstances of any particular date in history, and the difficulty is all the greater if the events of the time immediately succeeding be of such a nature as to completely change those circumstances. Such is markedly the case in the instance under consideration. The mental attitude of the Persian towards the Greek power after 479 is well known to the modern world; and it is recognized indeed that a great change must have been brought about in it by the events of that and the preceding year; but the extent of the change is not perhaps realized, because the very real nature of the grounds of confidence with which Persia entered upon the war are not sufficiently taken into consideration, and the efforts made by Herodotus to bring this confidence into prominence are too apt to be regarded as aiming at the greater glorification of his own race.

And yet the grounds for that confidence are plain. In a long and almost unbroken series of wars the Persian had conquered Western Asia. He had never met with the race which could face his own upon the set field of battle, and this, not in an experience of a few years, but of half a century. He might indeed feel that he had been tried in the balance of warfare and not found wanting. Man’s success against him had never been more than temporary.

It now remains to be considered why this confidence was ill-grounded.

The Persian had never seen the Greek heavy-armed infantryman at his best, well disciplined, and fighting on ground suited to his tactics, save perhaps at Marathon, when the test was probably regarded as unconvincing. ARMS AND THE LAND. Herodotus points out the superiority of his panoply to that of the comparatively light-armed Persian. There is much more of the empirical than of the scientific in the lessons of war; and the experience of all ages points to the fact that an army which enjoys a noticeable superiority over its enemy in respect to weapons will in all probability, if other things be equal, come off victorious. Such exceptions as history can adduce to this rule are rather apparent than real, and are, in the vast majority of cases, due to the possessor of the superior arms adopting tactics either unstated to them, or wholly at variance with the nature of the region wherein fighting is being carried on. The Greeks at Platæa made a mistake of the latter kind, which was only annulled by a greater mistake made subsequently by the other side.

In this great war, then, the two most efficient causes of its issue were (1) the undue confidence of the Persian, giving rise to fatal mistakes; (2) the great superiority of the Greek panoply. A third, of a negative character, may perhaps be added, namely, that the nature of the country did not permit of the invader making use of his most formidable arm,—the cavalry. The second and third causes may be included in that wider generalization which has been already discussed;—the West on its own ground must have prevailed over the East.

The immediate preliminaries of the actual invasion of Greek territory bring into prominence the high state of efficiency which must have been attained in the military organization of the Persian empire. Leaving out of consideration the difficulties to be overcome before the huge mixed force was collected at Sardes (which town became for the time being, in place of Susa, the prime military base of the empire), the organization which enabled this great army to be brought without accident, or, in so far as present knowledge goes, without a hitch of any kind, over the eight hundred miles of difficult country which separated its base from Middle Greece, must have been the outcome of a highly effective and highly elaborated system evolved by a people whose experience was indeed large and long, but who must also have been gifted with that very high form of mental capacity which is able to carry out a great work of this nature. The secret of success,—it may almost be said of possibility,—in the present instance was the employment of the fleet for commissariat purposes. It was a method of advance not new to Persian campaigning, the first instance of its employment going back as far as the time of the invasion of Egypt by Cambyses.

On the Greek side organization on so huge a scale was not called for. Numbers were smaller, and distances in comparison insignificant; and only at the end of the campaign, when the Athenian fleet was engaged in the blockade of Sestos, had a long period of absence from the commissariat base to be provided for. Still, what was done must have been done on a system; and the system cannot be supposed to have been a bad one, for there is no hint of its ever having broken down. It was in all probability most severely tried when it became necessary to keep up the supplies of the great host during the weeks it remained at Platæa. Such mention of it as occurs in Herodotus’ narrative is of a purely incidental character. It was a side of the war in which he was not likely to take any great interest, even if he could have obtained much information on the subject, or have appreciated the significance of such information as he did obtain. The disaster to the commissariat train in the pass of Dryoskephalæ is the most prominent of the rare instances in which Herodotus mentions anything connected with this department of the service. His reference to a signalling system extending through Eubœa at the time of Artemisium,—a line of communication which was in all probability carried to the Hellenic base in the Saronic gulf,—shows that there was a certain amount of elaboration in the organization on the Greek side.

STRATEGY AND TACTICS.

When it is borne in mind that the Greeks were in this war carrying on operations on a scale infinitely exceeding anything of which they can have had experience, it must be admitted as remarkable that, whatever the defects of their military policy, whatever the mistakes they made, they managed to evolve out of their experience of operations on a small scale a system of organization which was applicable to the great operations of this war, and which did not in any known instance lead to a breakdown which can be attributed to defect in the system itself.

Of the strategy and tactics of the war itself little can be said which has not been already said in previous chapters; still, it may be convenient to collect together the considerations on this question which are suggested by the history of the two years’ campaigning.

Before doing so it is perhaps necessary to define as clearly as is possible the distinction between strategy and tactics, and that not merely in respect to the application of the terms themselves, but also to a not unimportant difference which may exist between the ways in which they may be employed.

Strategy is a term usually applied to the larger operations of war prior to or intervening between such times as armies are in close contact with one another.

When close contact takes place, and battle is immediately imminent or in progress, the name tactics is applied to the operations which then ensue, and which are necessarily on a smaller scale than those to which the term strategy is applicable.

A further and important distinction is this:⁠—the operations known as tactics are the outcome of full consciousness on the part of the commander or, it may be, of the trained soldiers who employ them,—that is to say, that he or they know not merely what to do, but why to do it. The knowledge acted upon is in a sense scientific, though the reasons for the act may be various:⁠—either that the operation has proved effective in the past, or that the tactics of the enemy demand it, or that it is called for by the nature of the ground. It is in respect to the last reason that tactics and strategy are most nearly comparable; and it is manifest that it is more easy to draw conclusions as to the results of action on a small area of country, all of which may be comprehended in one view, than in a large area such as would form the theatre of strategical operations.

The operations of tactics are so much more mechanical than those of strategy that it is difficult to conceive of them as being unconsciously carried out.

With strategy that is not the case. It may be conscious or unconscious. The strategical conditions of a country such as Greece, or indeed of any country, must ever be fundamentally the same, though liable to modification by the introduction of some great novelty into the act of war, such as long-range missiles. An army operating in Greece or elsewhere may fulfil the strategical conditions of the country consciously or unconsciously. It fulfils them consciously if it appreciates them,—that is to say, if its movements are determined by them; but it may fulfil them unconsciously even if its movements are determined by considerations which cannot be said to rest on any strategical basis.

It is a very important question in the war of 480–479 whether either or both of the two sides operated with a conscious or unconscious strategy. Beyond question many of their operations were strategically correct. This every one who is acquainted with the story of the war must admit; but many of the greatest writers of Greek history have silently or expressly assumed that the agreement between the operations and the strategical conditions of the theatre of war was due to the circumstance that, in a country of such pronounced characteristics as those of Greece, the physical conditions were so marked that the strategical conditions might be fulfilled from motives wholly unconnected with them. This might undoubtedly be the case; but was it so?

Two great strategic designs are apparent in the main plan of the invaders:⁠—

(1) To create a diversion in the Western Mediterranean by stirring up Carthage to attack the Sicilian Greeks, and so prevent aid from that quarter reaching the mother country;

(2) To make fleet and army act in co-operation, and, furthermore, by means of the fleet, to maintain the command of the Ægean and its sea-ways.

On the side of the defence no plans of such magnitude are apparent; for the very good reason that the preparations to meet the invader were made too late for the carrying out of any far-reaching design, even had so composite a resisting force admitted of anything of the kind.

THESSALY AND THERMOPYLÆ.

The first strategic action of the Greeks was the expedition to North Thessaly. That was undoubtedly conscious strategy. It was undertaken under the supposition that the Vale of Tempe was the only entrance into the country; and had this supposition been correct the strategy was sound enough. The mistake made was topographical, not strategical.

It was again sound strategy which made the Greeks, when they discovered their error, retire from a position which was indefensible with the numbers present with them. Even had their available force been much larger than it actually was, it would have been a mistake to try to defend a mountain line traversed by several passages. A successful attempt of that nature is rare in history, because the assailant is able to choose the passage on which his main attack shall be directed, whereas the defender has to distribute his force at all the possible points of assault. Moreover, the passage once forced, the assailant can generally threaten the lines of communication of the bodies of troops defending the other passes.

Thermopylæ and Artemisium display most clearly the strategy of the two contending sides. It did not perhaps demand much knowledge or much intelligence to fix upon Thermopylæ as a point of defence. It would be difficult to mention any other great highway in the world on which a defensive position so strong by nature is afforded. It was, on the other hand, a great strategic blunder on the part of Sparta that, having sent a small force to the pass, she did not later forward reinforcements. That was no doubt part of a still greater strategic blunder,—the desire to concentrate the defence at the Isthmus. The three days’ fighting at Thermopylæ proved conclusively that, had an adequate force been present there, the army of Xerxes would in all probability never have carried the pass. Sparta and the Peloponnese generally neither did, nor wished to, appreciate the immense strength of the position.

Did the Persians make a mistake in their assault on the pass? It would seem not. They did not at first know of any way of turning it. They had to take it, because it was the only route by which they could get their baggage train past Mount Œta. That is the difficulty of Greek campaigning. There are perhaps many routes in the country along which a light marching force in moderate numbers can make its way; but those by which troops with the ordinary paraphernalia of an army, and in numbers too large to live on the country, can go, are very few.

The Greeks learnt a lesson from their homeland,—a lesson which Xenophon expressed in striking language to the ten thousand Greeks when they began their famous retreat: “My view is that we should burn our waggons, that our baggage train regulate not our march, but we go by whatever way be expedient for the army.”[231] In the present instance Xerxes was confined to the one route: he had to assault the pass, because in the then state of his knowledge of the country he could do nothing else. That he or his generals appreciated the importance of the path of the Anopæa so soon as they were informed of it is shown by the employment of the best troops in the army for its seizure and use.

It is, however, fairly questionable whether the direct assault on the pass formed part of the original Persian design at Thermopylæ. The delay of several days which took place before the actual assault was delivered, taken in connection with the contemporary events at Artemisium, suggests that it was originally intended to wait until the forcing of the Euripus by the fleet made it impossible for the Greeks to maintain their position in the pass for fear of the landing of a force in their rear. If such were the design, it was one which bears testimony to the strategic capacity of him who conceived it. It was brought to nought by a factor outside all human calculation, the storm which broke upon the fleet when anchored at the Sepiad strand.

It was indeed at this period of the war that both the contesting parties gave conspicuous proof of their appreciation of the strategic conditions of the region in which their operations were being carried on. GENIUS AND EXPERIENCE. In point of conception there was little to choose between the plans of the assailant and that of the defender, but in point of execution the Greek plan was wrecked by the deliberate failure of those who were responsible for the land section of the general defence. That of the Persian was upset by causes beyond human control. It is noticeable that the invaders seem to have arrived at Thermopylæ with a fair working knowledge of the region of the Malian gulf and the North Euripus, and it must be suspected that the heralds sent to Greece to demand earth and water acted when there in a twofold capacity.

Whatever failure overtook the Greek defence at this time of the war was due not to the plan, but to the way in which it was carried out. The design to hold the land force of the enemy at Thermopylæ and his fleet at Artemisium was excellently conceived. It was almost certainly the work of Themistocles. Whether honest or dishonest, he was gifted with that rare genius which enables a man to take in the necessities of a situation vast beyond anything within his experience. The other Greek commanders were men of an ordinary kind, who would in all probability have frittered away the defence in a series of measures such as their limited experience dictated, or, still more probably, have concentrated at the Isthmus, where the strength of the land position would have been more than negatived by the weakness of the position at sea.

Eurybiades, the commander-in-chief, is unfortunate in the setting in which he appears in the history of the time. His must have been an unenviable and difficult part. The diplomacy he had to employ in order to accommodate contending policies would seem to both sides a proof of vacillation. Herodotus’ picture of him is not wholly sympathetic; and yet it makes it quite clear that he was intelligent enough to appreciate the genius of the man who was technically his subordinate, and diplomatic enough to give the advocates of the Northern policy a victory without provoking a fatal outbreak among the advocates of a different design. Nor is this a small tribute to the man’s capacity. The Peloponnesians, and especially the Corinthian opponents of the war-policy of Themistocles, were not people who could be kept in order even by the strong hand of Sparta, unless history draws a very misleading picture of the circumstances within the Peloponnesian league; and the man who captained the Greek defence through the troubles within and without of the year 480 cannot have been lacking in ability, even though he had at his side a pilot of the genius of Themistocles.

The failure to support Leonidas at Thermopylæ utterly changed the strategical conditions on which the design of the defence had been hitherto founded, and the practical surrender of the other defensive lines north of the Isthmus completed the wreck of the plan. The Greek fleet on its return to Salamis found that no effort had been made, and no real intention had existed, to send an army even into Bœotia. It is noteworthy, however, that if the fleet really did suppose that the army was in Bœotia, and was not undeceived on this point until it arrived at Salamis, its commanders made a great mistake in not holding the narrows at Chalkis, and thus preventing the landing of Persian troops in rear of the most eminently defensive passage in Bœotia, that long strip of narrow land between Helicon and Kopais which extended from Chæroneia to Haliartos.

The strategy which was forced upon Themistocles by the state of things which he discovered in existence on his return to the Saronic gulf was the strategy of despair. The position taken up at Salamis could only be justified on the plea that there were no other narrow waters between it and the Isthmus where the Greek fleet could be sheltered from the disadvantage of meeting a more numerous fleet in the open, a large portion of which, the Phœnician, was probably superior to it in manœuvring power. Furthermore, if the Persian commanders took the view that the fleet at Salamis must be defeated before an advance to the Isthmus were attempted, and detained their ships on the Attic coast, then the Persian land army, unaccompanied by the fleet, would be rendered incapable of any sustained attack on the fortifications which the Peloponnesians had erected. SALAMIS. But that “if” was one of terrible significance, and the evidently nervous desire of Themistocles to bring about a battle must have been due to his recognition of the precarious position in which the Greeks would be placed supposing that the Persian fleet did choose to ignore them at Salamis. The most fatal weakness in an altogether dangerous situation was that a large portion of the population of Attica was on Salamis Island, and could not possibly be left to the mercy of the foe. How it came about that the Athenians gave such hostages to fortune, instead of removing them to the coast of Argolis, can only be conjectured. The probability is that the interval between the arrival of the Greek fleet at Salamis and that of the Persian at Phaleron had been too brief to render it possible for the whole Attic population to be transported across the Saronic gulf.

The blunder which led Xerxes to attack the Greeks at Salamis was fatal alike tactically and strategically. He had the game in his own hand, if he could only have recognized the fact; but in his confidence of success with the forces at his disposal, he wished not merely to out-manœuvre but to capture the whole Greek fleet.

The results of Salamis were immediate. The defeat and moral disorganization of the Persian fleet made it incapable of maintaining its position on the west side of the Ægean, though in point of material damage, relative to numbers, it is probable that it had not suffered more severely than the fleet which had been opposed to it. Its departure withdrew, as it were, the keystone of the Persian plan of invasion; and the whole edifice of design fell into ruin which was incapable of repair, though the wreck was not so complete as to render it impossible for Mardonius to make use of the materials in the ensuing year. The blow had fallen on the indispensable half of the invading force; and, bereft of the aid of the fleet, the land army could no longer maintain itself in a country whose natural resources were wholly inadequate to supply its wants.

According to the account followed by Herodotus, Themistocles proposed that the Greek fleet should immediately take the offensive on the Asian coast. The evident confusion of the story as to date renders it difficult to say whether the proposal was a wise one or not. It was, however, rejected by Eurybiades, who up to that time had displayed sound common sense; and if it was really made at the date to which Herodotus attributes it, there can be little doubt that Eurybiades was right. The time for offensive operations had not come; for anything of the nature of a reverse on the Asian coast might have restored once more all the evils of the previous situation in Greece; and it is quite possible that some argument to this effect put forward by Eurybiades has been translated into the form of his answer to Themistocles as given by Herodotus.

The actual design which Mardonius had in his mind when he persuaded Xerxes to leave with him in Thessaly the most effective part of the army of invasion is beyond conjecture at the present day. Possibly he had at the time no very definite plan, but was content to guide, and be guided by, events. His retirement to Thessaly was certainly due to the question of commissariat. The country was infinitely richer than the rest of Greece, and, besides, he had to organize a new line of communications along the North Ægean coast. With this intent, probably, Artabazos accompanied the retreat of Xerxes as far as the Hellespont. The winter gave Mardonius time to form his plans for the next campaign, and though Herodotus does not profess to know what the plans were, the operations during the summer of 479 give something more than a clue as to their nature.

Mardonius seems to have formed a design of two alternatives.

He knew, on the one hand, that unless the Persian fleet could be brought back across the Ægean, an attack on the Isthmus would be hopeless, if not impossible; in other words, the complete subjugation of Greece was out of the question. But so long as the Greek fleet remained as powerful as at that moment, it was also hopeless to expect the return of the Persian; and the first problem he had to solve was how to rob the Greek fleet of its strength.

With this intent, negotiations were opened with Athens, through the medium of Alexander the Macedonian. When this line of action proved ineffective, he brought pressure to bear upon the Athenians by once more invading their territory and occupying Athens. DESIGNS OF MARDONIUS. This again had no effect, except to make them even more stubborn in their refusal to treat.

The first alternative plan had failed at its outset, so he now resorted to the second.

After burning Athens and committing devastation in Attica he retired into Bœotia, using Thebes as his base of operations.

There are two remarkable facts in connection with this movement

The disaster at Salamis, and the consequent retirement of the Persian army to Thessaly, had not shaken the loyalty of Bœotia to the Persian cause, and this despite the fact that the Bœotians were not at the end of 480 deeply committed either to the Persian, or against the Greek. Bœotians had, indeed, been present in Xerxes’ army when it invaded Attica; but there is nothing whatever on record which can favour the supposition that the Bœotians had actually fought on the Persian side previous to the winter of 480–479. Consequently they were not deeply committed against the cause of patriotism. They had powerful excuses to urge for their conduct; and had they come over to the side of the defence in that winter, but little fault could have been found with them, even by the most bigoted patriots. Sentiment was not a characteristic of the Bœotian. His policy was ever to join the side from which he had most to expect; and his attitude during the time Mardonius was in Thessaly shows clearly that he was convinced that his interest lay with the Persian. The ruling party in Bœotia believed that their country was destined to become a part of the Persian Empire; and, with the selfishness of interest common to oligarchies, were prepared to accept their fate. They must have been convinced, rightly or wrongly, that Mardonius did not intend to desert them. The conviction was probably correct.

Mardonius’ retirement from Attica was an outward and visible sign of his renunciation of all idea of the complete conquest of Greece. If he had no other scheme of conquest in his mind at that moment, why did he stay his retreat in South Bœotia? Because, so Herodotus says, he thought that that country was more suitable for his cavalry. But that implies that he entertained an expectation which, on the mere question of fact as recorded by Herodotus, he could not possibly have entertained,—that the Greeks would follow him into Bœotia. Up to that time they had absolutely declined to take the offensive; and yet at this moment Mardonius must have had reason to believe that he could force them to change their whole policy in the war, and to become the assailant in a region highly unfavourable to their type of force, and highly favourable to his own.

It was a remarkable situation, the clue to which is not given in any direct statement in Herodotus. It must, therefore, be sought in the actions of the two opponents.

The opening of the campaign of 479 reveals several very important and well-nigh inexplicable changes on the Greek side. The most remarkable is the complete change in the command of the two principal contingents of the Greek forces.

In spite of the conspicuous success of the preceding year, Themistocles and Eurybiades are both set aside, and Xanthippos, Aristides, Pausanias, and Leutychides take their place. The change is extraordinary, unexpected, unexplained. Probably a combination of various motives brought it about, but, in the absence of all real evidence, nothing more than a guess can be made at what they were. The fact that the remainder of the war would have to be fought out on land rather than by sea had doubtless something to do with it. In the most remarkable case, that of Themistocles, politics may have played a part. It has also been suggested that his vexation at the refusal of the Greek fleet at Andros to follow his advice, and to carry the war to the Asian coast, led him to throw up his command.

As far as the course of the war is concerned, the main difference between the general characteristics of the campaign of 480 and 479 brought about by the change of command, is that for the ability of Themistocles to control circumstances was substituted an ability on the part of the new commanders to be guided by them.

PELOPONNESIAN STRATEGY IN 479.

There can be no question as to what was at the beginning of this year the Spartan view as to the plan on which the campaign was to be conducted. It comprised nothing beyond a defence of the Isthmus. The method adopted to carry out the plan was characteristic. It was known, of course, that Athens would be absolutely opposed to it, as she had been in the previous year, so not a word was said to her on the subject; nay, she was even led to believe that her own design would be supported by Sparta. Then was adopted a policy of passive resistance,—a resistance so obstinate and so prolonged that the tension upon the bonds which held the patriot states together was all but brought to the breaking point. Whether the astuteness of the Spartan government was sufficiently great to gauge with the utmost accuracy the amount of tension possible without bringing about actual fracture, or whether warning from outside opened its eyes to the fact that it had carried its policy to the extremest edge of danger, must be a matter of opinion. At the very last moment Sparta gave way. Athenian determination had won a victory over Spartan obstinacy. Sparta’s calculation had evidently been all through that if she sat still and allowed circumstances in Attica to develop under the agency of Mardonius, Athens would be forced to surrender her plan of campaign, and to adopt at last, though late, the war policy which the Peloponnesians had consistently advocated from the beginning.

The Athenian plan is definitely stated in Herodotus. It consisted in the first instance in meeting the enemy in Bœotia before he could invade Attica a second time. Its object seems clear,—the salvation of Attica; but if that was the only object, how is it that the plan remained unaltered after Attica had been overrun, and its salvation was no longer in question?

The troops despatched suddenly from Sparta while the Athenian embassy was present there were despatched to the Isthmus. What lever so great did Athens use to induce Pausanias to meet her troops at Eleusis, and take the offensive against Mardonius in Bœotia? Herodotus makes no statement on the subject. It is quite evident, however, from the incompleteness of this part of the history, that he experienced great difficulty in collecting reliable materials for the story of the events between Salamis and Platæa. But if the main circumstances of the time—the facts, that is to say, that Herodotus does mention—be taken into consideration, it is evident that the state of affairs in Northern Greece was such as must have caused the most serious alarm to the patriots. Thessaly had medized long ago of its own free will. Phocis and Opuntian Locris had done so partially and under compulsion; and, worst of all, Bœotia had thrown in her lot with the Persian in the most unequivocal manner. Must it not inevitably have been suggested to the Greeks of the South that there was every fear that the Persian, though his attempt to subjugate all Hellas had failed, was only too likely, if let alone, to be able to push forward his frontier from Macedonia to Bœotia, from Olympus to Kithæron? It was an eventuality that not even the Peloponnesian could regard with equanimity; and if any valid cause can be suggested for the sudden and complete change in the plan of the Lacedæmonian commander-in-chief after his arrival at the Isthmus, it is that his attention was called, probably by the Athenians, to the very serious danger of allowing events in the North an unchecked development. The very fact that Mardonius had deliberately stayed his movement of retreat at Thebes renders it highly probable that the extraordinary offensive movement of the Greeks was called for by a danger that did not exist merely in their own Imagination: in other words, that Mardonius’ alternative design was to keep what he could, since he could not get what he would.

This offensive movement of the Greeks has always been accounted extraordinary by those who have paid special attention to the military history of the time. That it was probably due to Athenian persuasion is generally agreed, but no adequate reason for the exercise of such persuasion on the part of Athens at this particular moment has been put forward, still less has any reason been adduced for the yielding of Sparta to it. The mischief for that year had been done in Attica, and movement into Bœotia could not remedy it. GREEK FLEET IN 479. The winter was drawing nigh, in which Mardonius would—if Attica was all that he aimed at—withdraw northward, as in the previous year. It can only have been the fear that Mardonius had gone to Thebes with intent to stay there, that moved the Greeks to an unprecedented course of action. They knew perfectly well that, from a purely tactical point of view, they had everything to lose and nothing to gain by transferring the war into a country where that much-feared but untried factor, the Persian cavalry, could come into play; and it is inconceivable that they can have moved north except under the stress of what they regarded as a grave necessity. It is quite a different question whether they took what were, under the circumstances, the best strategical measures. Had, for instance, a force been sent with the fleet under Leutychides to the Malian gulf, Mardonius’ position in Bœotia would have become so perilous that it is hardly possible that he would have ventured to retain it; and it may even be doubted whether he could ever have won his way back past Mount Œta.

The best strategy on the Greek side in this year’s campaigning was carried out by the commanders of the fleet; especially by Xanthippos, the admiral of the Athenian contingent. The caution displayed in waiting in the Western Ægean until the Ionians gave some signal was probably wise. A move eastward before receipt of information as to the real state of affairs on the Asian coast, as to the numbers and position of the Persian fleet, and especially as to the whereabouts of the Phœnician section of it, might have unduly hazarded the results of the success already obtained on the western coast of the Ægean. On arrival at Samos, a bold and successful attack was made on the Persian force at Mykale. It was necessary to crush the main resistance before further operations were attempted. After this the Spartans went home, while the Athenians continued the campaign by a strategic move of the highest importance. In attacking Sestos and the Thracian Chersonese, they assailed the all-important tête-du-pont in Europe, and by their success rendered Persian operations from the Asiatic side to the north of the Propontis difficult, if not impossible, as the Chersonese lay on the flank of any advance from the direction of the Bosphorus towards Macedonia and Greece. The command of the Hellespont was also the first step towards the freeing of the great trade route to the corn regions on the north coast of the Euxine.

The strategy of the two contending sides in the war of 480–479 must have been deliberate. It cannot have been unconscious. The agreement with the strategic conditions of the regions wherein fighting took place is too close to render any such view tenable. Nor is it strange that such should have been the case. On the one side was a race with a war experience greater beyond comparison than that of any other contemporary nation; on the other, a people whose quickness of intellect rendered it peculiarly capable of supplying the defects of experience by appreciation of the exigencies of the situation. The Greek was among the nations what Themistocles was among the Greeks.

Though the tactics employed by either side were, as events befell, more decisive of the issue of the war than their strategy, the question relating to them is more simple, and may be discussed more briefly. Of the naval tactics but little is told. From the account of Salamis it would appear as if the aim of the Greek in an engagement was so to steer his ship as to break as much as possible of the enemy’s oarage on one side, and, having thus rendered his opponent’s vessel more or less unmanageable, to ram the weakest part of its structure, the flank, with the beak and stem of his own. It may be safely assumed that it is an anachronism on the part of Herodotus to assign the manœuvre of cutting the line (διέκπλους) to this period.

The fact that the vessels carried each a certain number of heavy-armed infantry, as well as marines, and were fitted with boarding bridges (ἀπόβαθρα), shows clearly that boarding held a prominent place in Greek naval tactics. LAND TACTICS. To Kimon in later years is no doubt due the elaboration of what may be called the “ship tactics” at the expense of the boarding tactics, an innovation most effective in wars between Greek and Greek, but an improvement of doubtful value in wars with other races, where the panoply of the Greek heavy-armed infantryman could hardly fail to be effective in close fighting. It was left for the Roman to prove conclusively the mistake of this policy. Perhaps it was forced on Kimon by the growing unpopularity among the richer classes of hoplite service aboard the fleet in the long years of warfare after 479, and not brought about by purely tactical considerations.

The land tactics were naturally dictated by the armament of the two opponents, the nature of the forces at their disposal, and the ground on which at different times they came into conflict. The composition of the Persian army placed it at a considerable disadvantage in such a country as Greece. This disadvantage was much emphasized by the fact that, during the campaign of 480, and, in a sense, during that of 479 also, it was the attacking force in a country which greatly favoured the defence. Not until Mardonius took up the defensive in Bœotia was it possible for the Persians to chose ground favourable to the nature of their force. Against a foe of greatly superior mobility, the policy of the defensive was the only one which the Greek army could adopt with any hope of success, supposing that the enemy adopted tactics suitable to his force. The difference between the two armies was, that the Greek had everything to hope from close fighting, the Persian from the opposite; and in every case throughout the war in which reverse or disaster fell on either party, it was due to its having been forced, either by the nature of the position or by some tactical error of its own, into adopting that method of combat for which it was least adapted. If it were not a misnomer to speak of that which is manifest as a secret, it might be said that this is the whole secret of tactical success and failure in the war. It was illustrated in the most marked manner in all the three great land battles, at Thermopylæ, at Platæa, at Mykale.

The circumstances at Thermopylæ forced the Persians to adopt tactics involving close fighting. But it is noticeable that the Persian soldiers and the Persian commanders did not altogether take the same view on this question. The commanders evidently thought that they must win the pass by mere pressure of numbers, and be prepared to sustain losses, absolutely great, but, considering the immense disparity between the two armies, relatively small. Probably also circumstances rendered it all-important for them to force the pass as soon as possible; and this could, owing to the nature of the ground, only be accomplished by close fighting.

But the Persian soldier, soon after the attack began, discovered that he was no match for the better-armed Greek, and proceeded, on his own responsibility, to adopt tactics less dangerous to himself, an assault with missiles, to which the enemy could make no effective reply. This is clearly shown by the tactics which the Spartans were compelled to resort to, the charge forward, and then a pretended retreat, with a view to drawing the enemy on. But the circumstances were such that neither side could absolutely force the other to adopt disadvantageous tactics: nor even with whips and other severe methods of encouragement could the Persian commanders induce their men to a sustained assault at close quarters. In the last battle on the mound the Greeks were not cut down, but buried beneath a shower of missiles.

Platæa affords three very remarkable examples of the contrast of tactics. It was a battle of mistakes, in which each side conspicuously failed to play its own game. At the first position of the Greeks the Persian threw away his excellent cavalry in an attack on a necessarily limited portion of the front of the unshaken Greek heavy infantry, where outflanking was impossible, and only close fighting could be really effective. The result was inevitable.

In the second position, the Greeks made the mistake of seeking to maintain an advanced position in the plain, after the object with which they had in all probability attained it, a surprise flank attack on the Persians, had miscarried. TACTICAL MISTAKES. In view of the excessive immobility of their army as compared with that of the enemy, the danger that their line of communication with the passes, short though it was, might be cut, was evident; and their position permitted the cavalry to harass them on all sides by that form of attack to which it was best adapted. The mistake cost them dearly: it ought to have cost them the battle.

On the retirement of the Greeks from this position, Mardonius threw away the success he had gained by hurling his light-armed infantry against the large Spartan contingent. By doing so he threw away all the advantage which he possessed by reason of his mobile force of cavalry. The tactics of Pausanias were excellent, but could only have been possible with a highly trained force, such as that which he had under his command. He held his men back, despite a galling shower of missiles, until, as it would seem, the foremost ranks of the enemy behind their barrier of shields were deprived of all power of retreating by the pressure of the ranks in rear of them. Then he charged; and in the close fighting which ensued, the Persian had no chance, despite that quality of conspicuous bravery in which he appears never to have been lacking.

The same inevitable issue of battle resulted from the close fighting at the assault on the Persian stockade.

At Mykale the Persians again made the mistake of meeting the Greeks in that form of battle which was most eminently favourable to the more heavily armed man, though in that case the extreme embarrassment of the circumstances in which they found themselves may have necessitated the line of action which they adopted.

Such, then, are the conclusions which may be drawn from the history of the war as a whole. Perhaps the story has many morals; it certainly has one which in later days, under the sobering influence of personal experience, Thucydides expressed when he said that “he is the best general who makes the fewest mistakes.” He was doubtless right, owing to the multitude and variability of the factors in war. But in this, the first and greatest of the wars between Greek and Persian, the liability to error was increased by the incalculability of many factors whose exact value only the knowledge of experience could gauge, an experience lacking at the time, but from which both Greek and Macedonian profited in later years.

CHAPTER XIV.
HERODOTUS AS THE HISTORIAN OF THE GREAT WAR.

A history of the war would be incomplete unless the writer made an attempt to render an account of the evidence which the narrative affords of the methods employed by the great historian to whom the knowledge of almost all that is worth knowing concerning it is due. The story of the war is the climax of Herodotus’ work. All the manifold information which he gives of the times preceding it is merely an overture to the history of the struggle in which the fate of Greece, and it may be of Europe, was decided. But this preliminary portion of his work, though intensely interesting from a critical point of view, and though artistically one with the purely Hellenic part of his narrative, does not fall within the scope of a criticism which aims mainly at summing up the results of an inquiry as to the amount of light which the land of Greece at the present day casts upon the work of an author of more than 2000 years ago.

The term “father of history,” commonly applied to Herodotus, is of no small significance in relation to the circumstances under which his work was done. Of itself it implies a genius that overcame many difficulties, and which was peculiarly creative, in that it introduced into the educated world a form of literature of which no previous example can be said to have existed.

But this is not all. Under his hand the new literature was given a form which, though modified by later writers, must still serve as a pattern to those who write with twenty centuries of experience behind them. INFLUENCE OF CONTEMPORARIES. It is easy to point out defects in Herodotus’ work as a whole,—lack of arrangement, and what not,—and it is demanded by the interests of history that such defects should be pointed out; but, in so doing, it should be remembered that the work criticized is not merely the foundation but a large part of the edifice of that school of experience which renders such criticism possible, and that the apparatus for it is largely supplied by the many excellences of the historian’s method.

Contemporary colouring.

Any attempt to examine the work of a writer of history must, if it is to be in any sense successful, take into account the contemporary colouring of time and place under which the work was composed. This, true of every age of the world, is peculiarly demanded in the case of a work of the fifth century before Christ, when the local colouring was of such peculiar vividness as to affect to an unusual degree the view of those who lived and wrote under its influence. There are many sides to this question, a full discussion of which would demand much time, and would not be wholly apposite to the purpose of this chapter. It will be sufficient to speak of those aspects which must affect a judgment of Herodotus as historian of the Persian War.

As the pioneer in a new form of literature, he was peculiarly liable both to affect, and to be affected by, the interests of the audience for which he wrote; and the latter tendency could not fail to be emphasized by the extreme susceptibility which the Greek displayed to the feelings of his contemporaries. The interests of an audience uneducated in history must necessarily be limited. A writer writing for such an audience would naturally tend towards a form of composition in which the narrative dealt mainly with such incidents as are especially calculated to excite men’s interest. Hence it arises that the two great historians of the fifth century were, above all, historians of the military events of their time; and their work as writers of history in the larger sense is made subservient to the more limited scope of their main design.

Research.

Herodotus started on his task as a military historian with little or no practical experience, but with an immense capacity for taking pains. Excellence and defect alike have left their impress on his work; but it may be said without prejudice that his diligence of research has more than counterbalanced his lack of experience. The general result is that he has given to the world the data necessary for a true understanding of the events of the time of which he wrote, though he has in many instances failed to grasp their significance, and in a few instances has evidently misinterpreted them.

A reference has been made to “prejudice” in judging Herodotus. No author has perhaps suffered more than he from the existence of this feeling in the minds of those who have criticized him. The very lovableness of the man, so transparent in his writings, seems to have been the cause which has produced exaggerated appreciation of his work, whose very exaggeration has, human nature being what it is, called into existence depreciations at least equally unsound.

On the general question, before entering into details, this much may be said: that the main lesson which is conveyed to one who prosecutes inquiry in Greece at the present day on such points as are calculated to throw light upon the nature of his work is that, while it would be a mistake to regard him as a paragon of accuracy, he in many cases attained to an accuracy which was wonderful, considering the means at his disposal.

In examining the work of any historian, great or small, the inquiry must resolve itself into three sections: (1) the influence of the personal character of the historian on his work; (2) the influence on his work exerted by the associations of the time at which he wrote; (3) the nature of the materials which lay to his hand. The purely Hellenic history in Herodotus’ work throws considerable light on all these three points.

Theoretically it is, for the sake of dearness, desirable to keep these sections distinct: practically it is not possible to do so, since they must necessarily overlap.

Influence of personal character.

The most prominent personal characteristic of the historian which influenced his work was the absolute honesty with which he stated what he believed to be the truth, and the infinity of the pains which he took to arrive at it. DILIGENCE IN INQUIRY. It does not follow that what he believed to be true was true, but he did all that he could to get at the facts; and there is no single instance in his history of the war in which he can be shown to have deliberately perverted them. He had, like other men, his prejudices and predilections. He was affected, as all men must be, by the views held at the time at which he wrote concerning the time of which he wrote; and it is to these influences, and not to historical dishonesty on his part, that any fair judgment of him must attribute the obvious or suspected misstatements which are found in his Hellenic history. If this is not the case, he was one of the strangest compounds of the true and the false that ever lived. The dishonest historian does not want to know the truth; whereas it can be shown, not merely from Herodotus’ own language, but from actual facts existent at the present day, that Herodotus ardently desired to do so. Perhaps the most marked examples of this desire are afforded by the demonstrable care and pains which he devoted to his inquiries into the topography of the scenes of two events which are of peculiar interest,—the battles of Thermopylæ and Platæa. There can be no real question that he visited both places, and, not merely that, but that his examination of them was extremely careful. Whatever defects there are in the narrative of those two great battles are not of a topographical character, but are due almost entirely to difficulties in obtaining information. It may be argued that a man who took such pains to discover the truth of topographical detail, would be likely to take similar pains with details not topographical.

Deliberate omissions.

Another remarkable characteristic of his work is the way in which he will deliberately leave an important story incomplete, rather than insert details for which he had no real foundation of information. There are several examples of this. The history of the Ionian revolt, the most important section of the preliminary part of his work, is very defective. There are serious omissions, and the whole story is excessively fragmentary. A dishonest historian would have been tempted to round off the tale: an unscrupulous one would not have hesitated to do so.

But the most remarkable narrative of the incomplete type is that of Marathon. The best of raconteurs is content to give a mutilated account of what was reckoned, by the Athenian at any rate, one of the greatest events of Greek history; and the omissions are of such a character that it is almost impossible to believe that they can have been unconscious. Nor can it be supposed but that any amount of information of a certain type was available to him at the time at which he was at Athens. He must have rejected a large mass of the traditional evidence as unsatisfactory; otherwise the amount of descriptive narrative which he could have devoted to the battle would have been much greater than it is. The evident mistakes in such parts of the tradition as he does reproduce show the difficulty he experienced in arriving at the facts relating to the events of that time. The ten years of the past which had intervened between the campaign of Datis and Artaphernes and the great war made, no doubt, a world of difference to an author of later date, who was obliged to rely largely for his facts on contemporary oral evidence.

Prejudice.

Another class of narratives bearing on the question of the author’s honesty consists of those which contain matter suggestive of the suspicion that personal prejudice led him to deliberate perversion of facts. The question is not in the present instance as to the fact of perversion; but as to whether it was or was not of a deliberate character. There can be but little doubt that personal prejudice of various kinds did colour his views, and led him to do injustice to some of the men and events of the time.

In the story of the Ionian revolt he displays a most marked antipathy to the Ionians. He has hardly a good word to say of them in any department of life; their literary men are very inferior persons; their kinsmen across the sea were ashamed to claim connection with them; they were pusillanimous, if not actually cowardly, in their conduct during the war. Not one of these judgments can be regarded as sound, and the last and most severe is conspicuously refuted by the plain fact that it took Persia nigh seven years to crush their resistance, and that only at the expense of very serious loss to herself.

SOURCE OF “PREDUDICES.”

If these were untruths due to mere malignity on the part of the historian, statements which he knew to be untrue, it might be expected that he would display the same animus against the Ionians in all other parts of his history in which they are prominent. This is, however, very far from being the case. He specially records their bravery at Salamis. This record might be interpreted as intended to prejudice them in the eyes of the Greeks, did not his account of Mykale bring into prominence their services to the Greek cause on that occasion. It is, therefore, probable that the variation in his attitude towards the race is due largely to the variety of the sources of his information, combined, no doubt, with a strong personal feeling on his own as to their action on different occasions. His information on the subject of the revolt was certainly obtained from sources unfriendly to them, among which it may be presumed that the tradition current in his own time in Halikarnassos and the Dorian cities of Asia generally was not the least prominent. These cities certainly played no great part in the revolt; they probably stood aloof altogether; and those who have failed to fight the fight of liberty are not apt to be well disposed to those who have fought and failed. Moreover, they may have regarded the revolt as a colossal political blunder; and Herodotus may have acquired this view, which he held most strongly himself, from the older men of his native city who remembered the terrible time.

In Ionia itself, in Herodotus’ own day, the traditions of the revolt were probably highly contradictory. It is plain from the reliable material in his account, that its failure would lead to mutual recrimination between the members of the various cities which had taken part therein; and such recriminations would inevitably tend to confirm the low opinion which Herodotus had heard expressed in his home-land concerning the conduct of the Ionians at the time of the revolt. His impressions were wrong; but it is perhaps not unnatural that he should have formed them.

He displays the bias of his personal opinion very decidedly in his references to Themistocles. In this case also it is probable that he adopted views which he had frequently heard expressed by others. The Themistocles legend which he followed seems to have been originally a separate tradition which he has interwoven into the general traditions relating to the war of 480. It was probably created by the political party opposed to Themistocles, with members of which Herodotus must have come into contact during his sojourn in Athens. Themistocles’ services at the time of Salamis were too notorious to be wholly buried in oblivion; but the legend as Herodotus received it left nothing unsaid which might discount their value. The suggestion that the Greeks should fight in the strait is attributed to Mnesiphilos; and Themistocles is represented as having adopted it without acknowledgment.

In like manner his persuasion of the Athenians to use the increased proceeds of the mines at Laurion for the purposes of the fleet is ascribed, not to a foresight which foresaw the coming of the storm from Asia four years before it burst, but to the immediate necessities of the war with Ægina.

Further tales to his discredit are those of his financial corruptibility at Artemisium and Andros, and the self-seeking intent of his message to Xerxes with respect to the Hellespont bridge. All three contain elements of inherent improbability which, while they do not refute them, render them of doubtful credibility.

Was Herodotus honest in his conviction of the truth of these ill-tales?

No author that ever lived has been at less pains to conceal his individuality in what he wrote. His narrative is peculiarly personal. It is, therefore, far more easy in his writings to judge of the mental attitude of the writer than is usually the case in literature, and especially in historical literature, whether ancient or modern.

He was not merely conscious but absolutely convinced of the reign of moral law in human affairs. PRESENT COLOURING OF PAST EVENTS. He would, therefore, feel extreme repugnance for such moral weakness as that with which Themistocles was charged; and this very characteristic would lead him, if once convinced of the general existence of such weakness, to give credence to any and every tale which might be adduced to illustrate it. The tales, too, were mere rose-water stories compared with some of the charges which Aristophanes does not hesitate to bring against political opponents, and may have seemed to Herodotus to be stamped with the moderation of truth when compared with some of the political gossip in the Athens of his day.

The whole question of this Themistocles legend is one of the most difficult in Greek history. It is certain, on the one hand, that Herodotus had a distinct animus against the man. It seems also certain that the version of it which the historian followed was either the creation of political opponents or, at any rate, was strongly infected with the feeling which Themistocles’ conduct during the latter years of his life, as interpreted by the Athenians, must inevitably have aroused with regard to him.

Influence of contemporary feeling.

There are other parts of Herodotus’ narrative of the war which are manifestly coloured by the events of later years. Compelled, no doubt, to resort to Athens for many of his materials, he would inevitably reflect largely in his history the Athenian political feeling of the time at which he wrote.

The most noticeable instance of its influence upon him is shown in his treatment of the Corinthians. This people could not be accused of having played an unpatriotic part during the war, and yet no opportunity is lost of placing their conduct in an unfavourable light. They are represented as being foremost in opposition to such measures as after-events proved to have been of the greatest benefit to the national cause, and finally a distinct, and almost certainly unfounded, charge of cowardice at Salamis is brought against them. That Herodotus thought the war policy which they advocated, the defence of the Isthmus, a mistaken one, is evident; but this view of his is not sufficient to account for his treatment of them. That can only be attributed to an Athenian tradition which had been strongly influenced by the bitter and long-continued hostility which arose between Athens and Corinth some twenty years after the events of 480.

There are other passages in his history which must be attributed to the use of materials drawn from a similar source, similarly infected. The story of the behaviour of the Greek centre after the withdrawal from the second position at Platea, in which the Corinthians and Megareans are brought into special prominence, is probably one of them. To a like origin may be ascribed the various tales to the discredit of the Æginetans in reference to the events immediately following the battle. The case of the Æginetans is especially interesting, because the author’s treatment of them resembles his treatment of the Ionian Greeks. He records their noticeable bravery at Salamis. This diversity of treatment affords strong evidence that the animus displayed by him had its origin in the sources from which he drew his history, independent of personal feeling.

Sources and records.

It is easy to say that he might have guarded against accepting ex parte statements as history. But those who realize the magnitude of the difficulties under which he worked will be rather inclined to marvel at the success with which he managed to overcome them, than to moralize on the instances in which he succumbed. He was writing the history of a period many years after it had closed. Of official records but few can have existed; and the instance of the inscription on the tripod, commemorating the battle of Platea, shows that such records were not always trustworthy. The semi-official records in the shape of copies of oracular responses were still more unreliable. And what was there beyond these? Current traditions, some perhaps pan-Hellenic, but the majority originating in different Greek states, with an amount of local colouring as varied as the variety of their sources. Some of the traditions may have been committed to writing. But who could have reconciled the truth of the numerous versions of the same story on which the lively imagination of the Greek had had full play for many years? EFFECT OF PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS. Lastly, there was the purely oral evidence of those who had been present at events; and it says much for the critical capacity and diligent inquiry of the historian that, despite the notorious difficulty of dealing with evidence of this kind, much of his work which may be proved at the present day to be accurate must have been drawn from such a source. Could a skilled historian of the nineteenth century have done much better work with such materials at his disposal? The history of the campaigns of 1805 and 1806, composed under like conditions, not less than thirty years after they took place, would have been strange reading.

Religious feeling.

The strong individuality which is impressed on, and expressed by, almost every page he wrote was so marked, that it could not fail to affect in some form or other his character as an historian. His personal piety has left indelible trace in his writings. His critical capacity was deliberately laid aside wherever he saw, or thought he saw, the hand of God at work in the world. This is most noticeably displayed in his treatment of the oracles relating to events of the time of which he wrote. His attitude towards them is very remarkable. This ultramontane of the fifth century before Christ never lost faith in them, despite the fact that he records instances of their fallibility and even of their actual dishonesty.

Such an attitude could not fail to introduce a specific element of unreliability into his work.

But this personal characteristic affected his writings in another way. It made him at times anxious not merely to inform, but to instruct,—to show men the better way as he understood it. He consequently preferred a tale with a moral to one without; and oftentimes when he gives two versions of the same story, he expresses his personal belief in the less probable of the two, evidently for no other reason than that the moral conveyed by it is either more obvious or more impressive.

The mere fact, again, that he does give in many instances two versions of the same story shows that he was anxious to do justice to those who were affected by them. The two versions of the conduct of Argos at the time of the war are, perhaps, the most striking instance of his wish to deal fairly with all those whom he brought upon the stage of history. His attitude towards the unpatriotic Greeks renders it certain that, had he always allowed his personal bias undue weight in the balance of historical writing, the conduct of Argos would not have been represented as open to two possible interpretations, one of them much more favourable than the other.

Unprejudiced judgments.

The expressions of his own personal judgment on historical questions which arise in his narrative are for the most part stated with reference to the motives which prompted certain actions, and are of very various value. On purely military questions they are, with the striking exception of his statement of opinion as to the motive of the withdrawal of the army from Thessaly, as a rule of little weight. He did not possess that practical knowledge of war and of command which alone could have rendered his personal views on such questions a matter of serious consideration. His excellence as a military historian is not on that side. It lies in his having been a diligent, accurate, honest recorder of facts, in so far as a man could be who wrote under the circumstances under which he wrote.

Rhetoric and drama.

It is very fortunate for the world that he was not appreciably affected by that craze for rhetoric which prevailed in the Athens of the last years of his life,—that rhetoric which was to play such havoc with the written history of a later age. He was probably too old to be largely influenced by that which seemed to the older men of the time an undesirable or, when they suffered from its exercise, even pernicious fad, even though certain sides of it might appeal strongly to his literary instinct. If contemporary writing did at all influence this creator of literature in a new form, it is perhaps in the works of the great dramatists that the source of such influence is to be sought. In any case, it was not sufficiently strong to affect his reliability as an historian. The reports of speeches in his work in what profess to be the actual words of the speaker, in cases in which it is certain that the actual words cannot have survived, is to be attributed to dramatic rather than to rhetorical feeling; and the absence of the latter influence in his work generally is shown by the conspicuous absence of a fundamental canon of rhetoric,—the ordered arrangement of topic.

SOURCES.

Sources.

To discuss fully the possible sources of information to which Herodotus had recourse in various parts of his work would in itself lake up a volume, wherein much of the matter would be highly controversial.

It will be sufficient here to point out as briefly as possible those sources which are indicated either clearly or with high probability as lying behind his narrative of the war and its immediate prelude:—

1. The historian’s personal observation and personal inquiry;

2. Records, official and semi-official;

3. Tradition [some preserved in previous authors].

Under the heading of personal observations may be included⁠—

Among records, the following sources may be suggested:⁠—

The traditions, of which he manifestly made important use, are of great variety of origin. Sometimes he mentions their source; more frequently the nature of his information clearly indicates it.

This list, long as it is, is absolutely confined to the sources for the story of the war, and that, too, of its main incidents. Were the sources for the history of Greece before the opening of the fifth century, for the non-Hellenic history, or even for minor incidents of the war, to be taken into consideration, their discussion would extend to many chapters.

The most remarkable general characteristic about this aspect of his work is the composite, sometimes extremely composite, nature of the sources employed in drawing up the account of any single one of the main incidents. A second characteristic, hardly less remarkable, is that those parts of his work whose truth is most conspicuously demonstrable originate in the majority of cases in the historian’s personal observation and personal inquiry.

Autopsy, and the evidence of eye-witnesses.

The most noticeable examples of the accuracy of his personal observation, and of the diligence and care of his inquiries from persons who were present at events, is afforded by the correctness with which he describes the topography of Thermopylæ and Platæa, and the close agreement of the incidents of those battles as recorded by him with the nature and accidents of the ground at the present day. There is no single statement of pure fact in his accounts of those battles upon which suspicion is thrown by a minute examination of the areas within which they were fought. The majority of them are positively capable of proof by the results of such an examination. The manifest errors in these two accounts do not lie in statement of fact, but in statement of motive, and are fully explicable by the circumstances under which the story was told. In neither case does he produce any evidence that he was able to get information as to the motives which influenced those in command. The story of the fighting in both cases is a soldier’s story. The details of the first two days of the defence of Thermopylæ were derived from some one who was present at, or a spectator of, the fight, of which there were many survivors. Those of the final scene are of the same character, though in that case it is more difficult to conjecture who was the informant. AUTOPSY AND TOPOGRAPHY. From certain indications in the story, it seems that parts of it at any rate may have been derived from some one who viewed it from the Persian side, possibly some Malian who had been temporarily impressed as a servant, and with whom Herodotus conversed when he visited the spot in later years. Such are the details (vii. 208) with regard to some of the Lacedæmonians being hidden from view of the Persian scout by the interposition of the wall, and some of the information given with reference to Epialtes (vii. 213). It is quite beyond question that Herodotus had traversed the ground. His topographical information can be followed in detail by any one who visits the region at the present day.

The only uncertainty concerns the exact sites of one or two places which he mentions outside the area of fighting, such as the Amphiktyonic temple; but even these are identifiable with high probability; and it is the use of the spade, not Herodotus’ information, which is wanting.

The rest of his information with regard to Thermopylæ, with the sole exception of the copies of the inscriptions on the monuments, is traditional in origin, emanating from Sparta.[232]

Artemisium he may have seen in the distance in the course of a land journey from the north. The knowledge which he displays of Halos, in his account of Xerxes’ visit to the place, renders it probable that he had traversed the route which leads round the east end of Othrys on to the Malian plain, and in going that way he would pass in full view of Aphetæ and Artemisium. His topographical description of these places is, in so far as it is called for, accurate enough. That is, however, the only portion of the Artemisium story which can be set down to aught of the nature of personal examination. Nor, indeed, can any part of that story be safely attributed to the evidence of an eye-witness of events. The list of the contingents of the Greek fleet may be taken from official records of some sort; the rest of the story seems to be drawn from tradition.

The tale of Salamis is, perhaps, the most extraordinary in the whole of his history. There can be little doubt that when he wrote it he had in his possession notes of information given him by some one who was present at the battle. Probably he never compiled its history of the battle until some years after he had taken the notes, at a time when his informant was not within his reach, possibly dead and gone. He must have known the topography of the strait; he could hardly have lived in Athens without doing so.

How did he come to make the serious error which he undoubtedly did make? There may be differences of opinion as to the nature of the error, still more as to its cause; but as to the existence of it the topographical evidence, as well as the contemporary account of the eye-witness Æschylus, leave no reasonable doubt. The mistake does not appear, in so far as can be judged, to have existed in his original information. His account, despite the confusion inevitable to the nature of his mistake, points to its being founded on evidence which may have been in all essential particulars in accord with that of Æschylus and Diodorus. The matter has already been discussed at length in reference to the battle itself. Suffice it now to say that the most probable explanation of it is that, using his notes of information some time after they had been given him, he mistimed a movement mentioned in them, and by so doing threw his narrative out of gear.

In the Salamis story, as elsewhere, the traditional element is present in various forms. As in the case of Artemisium, the list of the ships may be founded upon an official basis.

The story of Platæa is, perhaps, the most remarkable that he wrote. How he ever arrived at the truth with regard to that scene of confused fighting must excite the wonder of every student of history. FACTS AND JUDGMENTS. It is plain that he was peculiarly well satisfied with his evidence, for he was not in the habit of treating at length incidents whose description rested on testimony with which he was dissatisfied, however important these incidents might be. His account of Marathon affords proof of that; and there other ominous silences in his narrative which can only have been due to lack of reliable information. His topographical evidence on Platæa is undoubtedly due to autopsy. Not merely are his direct statements on the subject marvellously correct; but the whole of the topography implied in his account of the many incidents of the battle is marvellously correct also. His information was manifestly derived from one who had fought at Platæa; and the character of the story is such as to render it possible that he not merely visited the scene of it himself, but visited in company with one who had fought there. His account exemplifies in a peculiar way both his excellences and his limitations as a military historian. His own diligent inquiry led him to make the best use possible of the evidence at his command; but that evidence was not obtained from one who was conversant with the plans of those who directed the operations, nor had the historian himself such knowledge and experience as would enable him to form sound inductions as to the nature of those plans from information of the kind which was at his disposal.

The traditional element in his account of Platæa is probably far less in proportion than that in any one of the longer sections of his history. Of official record only the list of the Greek contingents shows probable traces.

Such are the major parts of his history in which the evidence of autopsy on his part, or on the part of his sources of information, is most strikingly displayed.

One minor passage, that relating to Xerxes’ visit to the vale of Tempe, must be mentioned. The considerations on the physical geography of Thessaly, which are put into the mouth of the Great King, are almost certainly those of the historian himself, derived from his personal knowledge of the region. This view is further supported by the remark he makes on his own authority in reference to the withdrawal of the Greek force from that region, that he believes it was due to the discovery that Tempe was not the only pass into the country from the north.

With regard to the other two great battle-grounds of this period, the evidence of autopsy is doubtful Herodotus’ account of Marathon makes it probable that he had not seen the ground. His account of the battle, such as it is, is marked by certain mistaken deductions, probably his own, resting on a basis of misinformation. The remainder of it is obviously traditional in origin.

Whether Herodotus had ever seen the ground at Mykale is very doubtful. He certainly had never examined it in detail. It is, however, quite possible that some of his information with regard to it was drawn from an eye-witness.

Oracles.

Mention has already been made of certain traces of the use of official records of a secular origin. It now remains to consider those oracular responses, whose actual wording in their official written form came under his notice, whether at the place at which they were delivered, or in the city to which they were given. The great difficulty is to determine whether, in the individual cases in which he quotes oracles, his quotation is drawn from an official version, or from a version accepted by tradition. Positive cases of the latter mode of quotation are more easy to recognize than positive cases of the former; though in nearly all cases alike he gives what purports to be, and may be, the actual wording of the response. Nevertheless, the two kinds of quotation demand that the material quoted, even if identical in form, should be regarded as coming under two different classes of evidence. It must not be necessarily assumed that an oracle copied from an official record at Delphi is better historical evidence than one preserved in the memory of those to whom it was delivered. It is too probable that the opposite is the case. There are many strong reasons for the suspicion that in certain instances the hand of the editor brought the record up to date by alterations and additions made in the light of after-events. The oracles relative to Salamis are a case in point. ORACLES. Delphi did no doubt possess sources of information with regard to Greek politics generally, which rendered it able to give very useful advice to those who consulted it; but it is impossible to believe that either at Delphi, or anywhere else, the course of the war could have been so far calculated before the actual struggle began, as that the circumstances which made it so imperative to fight at Salamis should have been foreseen.

It is in the history of the period at which apparently this oracle was delivered, when the Greek states to which the council of defence had appealed for help were making up their minds what attitude to adopt in the coming war, that Herodotus makes most use of the evidence of oracles. There is no reason, save in the case of the Salamis oracle above mentioned, to suspect that those which he quotes are in aught but their original form. They show that Delphi had a definite policy at the time, founded upon the conviction that Athens, and Athens alone, was the goal of the Persian expedition; and even after the war was over Delphi might have argued with some show of reason, though not on the solid basis of fact, that, had its advice been followed, its conviction would have turned out true.

One other very important oracle quoted by Herodotus with reference to the history of the war, is that which was alleged to have brought about the self-sacrifice of Leonidas. From the way in which the historian mentions it, it is obvious that he did not draw it from any source independent of the tradition of the battle, to which, indeed, it supplied the main motive.

Traditions.

It is often very difficult to trace with anything approaching certainty the exact source of the various traditions which Herodotus followed in different minor sections of his history. In some cases it is only possible to make a guess at their origin; and a discussion of them, not in itself very profitable, is but too apt to lead to even less profitable results. It is quite certain, as has been already said, that in many parts of his narrative he combined information of very diverse origin and of very various value.

A statement in a sentence in the midst of a long passage oftentimes shows that its origin differs from that of its context. It is not proposed to deal with such variations of the general pattern, but to seek rather to arrive at some definite conclusion as to the “provenance” of the chief authorities lying behind the main sections of the historian’s work.

The account of the Ionian revolt is, as it would appear, drawn largely from traditional sources. It is, of course, probable that Herodotus in his early years actually talked with men who had played a part in it; but it is also probable, on the other hand, that he had not at that period of his life any formed intention of writing his history. The traditions which he followed were undoubtedly unfavourable to the Ionians. They were also defective in information. Their origin must certainly be attributed to the Asiatic coast of the Ægean; and this fact, together with these two main characteristics above mentioned, points to the Dorian Greeks of the cities of the Carian coast, of which Halikarnassos, Herodotus’ birthplace, was one, as having been mainly responsible for them.

The attitude of these Dorians at the time of the revolt would be only too calculated to make them unfavourable to those who had taken part in it. Such information as Herodotus could get from Ionian sources would be coloured by mutual recriminations, and would not, consequently, be calculated to disabuse his mind of its first impression.

Some few examples of the use of official records and inscriptions are apparent, but they are few and far between.

The Marathon story seems to be almost wholly traditional, derived from two Athenian sources of opposite tendency,—the one aristocratic, wherein the services of the Miltiades were brought into prominence, the other democratic, wherein the medizing tendencies of the Alkmæonidæ were, in so far as possible, disguised and excused. These two versions, with additions of his own, Herodotus has combined into his narrative; but there must have been a large mass of matter in both traditions which he has rejected as unreliable, probably owing to the absolute impossibility of reconciling the statements in the one version with those in the other.

PARTIALITY OF GREEK TRADITION.

The confused history of the wars between Athens and Ægina, one of which falls within the decade between 490 and 480, is related on the basis of an Athenian version, which the historian himself has probably edited in certain parts: but the whole tradition was so confused that he has evidently been able to make comparatively little out of it.

The sources for the period immediately preceding the war of 480 are, as might be expected in the history of a time at which many of the less prominent of the Greek states appear on the stage, of a very varied character. To the employment of the records at Delphi in this part of the historian’s work reference has been already made; but, in addition to these official records, he appears to have made use of tradition surviving at Delphi itself, especially with reference to the relations of the oracle with Athens at that particular time.

The main basis of his account of the negotiations with Gelo and of the events in Sicily in the period immediately succeeding them is a tradition which was current throughout European Greece, whose manifest tendency was to exclude the Sicilian tyrant from all participation, direct or indirect, in the struggle for Hellenic freedom. He expressly mentions, indeed, that there was a Sicilian version which differed from it in certain respects; but he evidently attached but little importance to it. That he made a mistake in his choice of authority there can be little doubt; but, apart from the natural predisposition of one who knew the tale of tyranny on the Asiatic coast, and had every reason to dislike it, the Greek version had probably taken firm root by the time at which he collected his materials. The Sicilian version, with its probable exaggerations, is preserved in Diodorus.

In discussing the attitude of Argos at this time, he expressly reproduces two traditions, giving his preference to that of local Argive origin. The other was probably that which was carried current among the Greeks who had been patriotic, though certain details in it suggest that it was originally from an Athenian source; and part of it originated more than thirty years after the war, at the time of the negotiations which led to the mysterious Peace of Kallias.[233]

The tale of the negotiations with Corcyra, as well as of Corcyra’s attitude at the time of Salamis, rests on a tradition which was in all probability current among all the patriot Greeks. Corcyra was never popular. The social Greek hated its individualism as a state in the Hellenic world.

The tradition which Herodotus reproduces relating to the motives which prompted the advice given by Themistocles to the Athenians regarding the mines at Laurion is all part of that Themistocles legend which he has consistently followed. Its origin has been already attributed to the aristocratic party in Athens.

The absence of any attempt to tone down the picture drawn of the medism of the Northern states points to the fact that the materials for it were furnished by tradition current among the patriot Greeks.

The tale of Thermopylæ is one of the few stories of greater length in the history in which the traditional element is homogeneous throughout. The actual facts of the fighting were probably obtained from examination of the ground, combined with the evidence of eye-witnesses. But the whole motive of the story—the causes, that is to say, which produced these facts—was drawn from a tradition, one and indivisible, and that tradition was of Lacedæmonian origin. It was more than that; it was no popular tale, but an official version of events. It became pan-Hellenic, for the very good reason that the extraordinary circumstances of the battle did not render the existence of any other version possible. It would be mere repetition of a long argument to recapitulate the reasons for this view: they have been already stated in dealing with the account of the battle itself. The oracular element contained in it was quite sufficient to prejudice Herodotus in its favour; but even he does not seem to have been satisfied with the reasons put forward for leaving Leonidas to his fate; and he was evidently in doubt as to the true facts of what occurred on the last day of the defence of the pass.

The tale of Artemisium would appear to have been drawn from two sources, both of them Athenian. PERSIAN SOURCES. The Themistocles legend of aristocratic origin is interwoven with a pan-Athenian version, whose object was to emphasize in every possible way the services of Athens to the national cause at this period of the war, and the many difficulties she encountered in combating the fatal policy of withdrawal to the Isthmus.

The same pan-Athenian tradition, combined with the Themistocles legend, shows itself in the account of the events between Artemisium and the actual fighting at Salamis.

Alike in the accounts of Thermopylæ and Salamis, descriptions are given of events which occurred on the Persian side; even discussions which took place in the Persian Council of War are reported in what profess to be the actual words used. The latter may be dismissed with the remark that they are instances in which the dramatic instinct got the better of the historical sense of the historian. But it is impossible to say that the matter in the description and discussions is wholly unhistorical. The prominence of Artemisia in one of them suggests that it is founded on a Halikarnassian tradition of his own day. The remainder may rest partly on traditions carried back to Asia by Greeks who were with Xerxes’ army. Herodotus himself, who had relations with Persians in high positions in later times, may have derived incidental information from them. But these Persian tales in his history of the war must be regarded as indicating only the drift of the truth.

The tale of Salamis, in so far as it is not founded on notes from a personal narrative, suggests an origin in pan-Hellenic tradition. The credit given to the Æginetan on the one side, and to the Ionians on the other, can only have been the outcome of general consent. No doubt, the more or less personal details of the fighting are drawn from a variety of sources, Ionian, Halikarnassian, Athenian, and what not; and the tale of the would-be Corinthian cowardice shows unmistakably the traces of the cloven foot of later Athenian enmity.

The comparative briefness of the tale of Mykale suggests that Herodotus had not the opportunity of getting much information with regard to that important battle. As it stands, it presents no certain trace of origin, but is probably the version of the story which was generally current in Greece. Despite its brevity, it is, in contrast with the story of Marathon, one which raises no difficulties. The evidence was not evidently large in quantity; but, such as it is, it has all the appearance of having been sound. It affords, moreover, another example of that fact, to which reference has been already made on several occasions, that Herodotus did not write history on the basis of testimony with which he was not satisfied.

The view adopted in this volume on the right use of Herodotus’ work as a basis for history is not likely to commend itself to extremists. It is perhaps due to the strong personality of the old historian that his critics have at all times shown a tendency to divide themselves into two camps, one of which champions not merely his honesty, but his absolute accuracy, while the other bitterly assails both. In a work so great and so extensive as his, it is almost inevitable that the amount of accuracy obtained in various parts of it should vary very greatly. The multiplicity, too, of his sources of information would necessarily promote the same tendency.

As an historian he has suffered alike from his admirers and detractors. He has been credited with a kind of inspiration. He has been decried as a forger of history. It would be waste of time to discuss views so extreme. Any one acquainted with the conditions under which his history must have been composed will understand the impossibility of attaining complete accuracy under such circumstances. Any one who takes the trouble to examine the proofs of the charges of forgery brought against him will know that they have often been founded on mistaken premisses, and are in no single instance convincing.

But there is an intermediate attitude taken towards his work by a certain section of the learned world, about which a few words must be said. MODERN CRITICISM. There is a widespread tendency to adopt the view that, whatever the inaccuracies contained in his writings, they represent the high-watermark of knowledge attainable at the present day concerning the period of Greek history of which he wrote; and that, therefore, fertile criticism of his work aiming at any reconstruction of the story is impossible. Such reconstructions are, moreover, frequently stigmatized as attempts to read the ideas of the nineteenth century after Christ into the history of the fifth century before Christ. A charge, of the kind can only be founded on the assumption that Herodotus was qualified not merely to record the acts of the men of the period of which he wrote, but to appreciate to the full the ideas and motives which produced the acts of those who were presumably the most skilled men of their day in special departments of life.

The evidence which is given in this volume, with respect at least to the military history of this period, does not support such an assumption. Putting aside detail, the general conclusions to which it points are three in number:⁠—

1. The extraordinary accuracy of statements of fact in Herodotus;

2. His lack of information as to the motives of those in command;

3. His lack of experience such as might have enabled him to form deductions as to those motives.

If the evidence on which the first of these conclusions is founded be held to justify it, it is not too much to assert that the modern world is provided with the means of forming a sound judgment as to the causes underlying the history of the most critical years of the fifth century.

The debt of civilization to Herodotus does not require exaggeration.