Helmet and spear

by Alfred John Church

The incidents that followed bear a curious resemblance to the history of the first defence of Thermopylæ. The path by which the Persians, through the treachery of Ephialtes, were able to take the defenders of the pass in the rear was again used for the same purpose. The Phocian pickets were surprised as before, being hindered by the mist from seeing the Gauls till these were close upon them. But there was no obstinate determination among the Greeks to die upon the ground. They were carried off by the Athenian fleet, which from the first had been in attendance, keeping as close as possible to the shore.

The object which now roused the cupidity of the barbarians was the shrine of Delphi with its treasury, still rich in the offerings of many generations of worshippers and inquirers, though it had not altogether escaped the hand of the spoiler.[32] As in the Persian war, the terrified inhabitants inquired of the god whether they should remove or conceal the sacred treasure. Again, as before, the answer was that the god would take care of his own. "I will provide, and with me the Maidens veiled in white," were the words of the oracle. The greater part of the army mustered at Thermopylæ had gone home; but there were some thousands who remained to protect Delphi. The god did not disdain to use their services, though the most effective protection came—so runs the story—from his own interference. The ground on which the Gauls had pitched their camp was shaken throughout the day by repeated shocks of earthquake, while overhead the thunder rolled and the lightning flashed incessantly. Through the darkened atmosphere might be seen the flashing arms of warriors who were more than mortal—one of them, it was said, the hero Pyrrhus, son of Achilles, who had met his death at Delphi many centuries before, and had ever since been worshipped as a local hero. That day, however, the Gauls held their own; many of the Phocians, in particular, were slain. But the night that followed was one of terrible suffering. A sharp frost set in, and following the frost came a heavy fall of snow. The snow symbolised "the maidens vested in white"—such, at least, was the rationalistic explanation given in after years. Nor was this all: great masses of stone from Parnassus, and rolling into the camp of the barbarians crushed as many as twenty or thirty by a single blow. The next day the Greek garrison at Delphi advanced against the invaders, the main body making a front attack, the Phocians, who were well acquainted with the country, assailing the rear. The Gauls did not lack in courage or firmness. Suffering though they did intensely from the cold, they made a resolute stand, and did not retreat till their leader was severely wounded and carried fainting off the field. Again the night was more fatal than the day. After dark a panic fear fell upon the camp. The barbarians seemed to see and hear enemies everywhere, and turned their arms upon each other. After this their destruction was certain. To a host without discipline a retreat is fatal. The Gauls were without stores, for they reckoned to be supported by the countries through which they passed. But now the victorious enemy hung upon their rear, and cut off any stragglers that ventured to leave the main army. Famine and the incessant attacks of the pursuers reduced their numbers till there was but a scanty remnant of the great host that a few weeks before had descended on Northern Greece. Brennus, it is said, poisoned himself, unable to face his people at home after so disastrous a campaign.

Pausanias tells us that not one of the invading Gauls quitted Greece alive. It is hardly probable that this is true; and other writers gave a different account. What is certain is that one great division of the swarm that had descended from Northern into Southern Europe met with a very different fortune from that which overtook Brennus. This took a more easterly route, and plundering and destroying as it went reached the shores of the Hellespont. (This seems to have happened in 278 B.C., the year after that in which Delphi had been attacked.) The Gauls cast covetous glances on the rich territories of Asia, now separated from them by only a narrow stretch of water, and in one or another contrived to reach them. One division seized a few small vessels and boats, and, as no sort of opposition was attempted, ferried themselves across; the other was actually transported by an Asiatic Greek prince, who was contending with his brother for the kingdom of Bithynia. They secured the victory for him, but Bithynia, and indeed the whole of Western Asia Minor, paid a heavy price for their help. Their history during the next few years is very obscure, but we may gather that they roamed from province to province, laying waste all the countries which they traversed. The unwarlike inhabitants of Asia Minor were quite powerless to check them. After some twelve years Antiochus, King of Syria, son of one of the great generals trained by Alexander, undertook the task, and accomplished it with such success that he earned the surname of Soter, "the Saviour." He could not indeed expel them; in fact, so far was their power from being broken that in 261 Antiochus lost his life in a battle with them. But the general result of the war was that the invaders were glad to settle down in a definite region which was ceded to them, and which was known by the name of Galatia, or Gallo-pæcia. The Galatians afterwards played an important part in history. But with this we are not now concerned.

FOOTNOTES:

[31] Pausanias says that every trooper had two mounted attendants, themselves practised warriors and ready to supply him with a fresh horse, or even to take his place in the ranks. They must have had therefore much mobility, a phrase with which we have lately become very familiar.

[32] The treasury was robbed by the Phocians in 346, in what was called the Second Sacred War. The Phocians were condemned to make restitution by paying a fine of 10,000 talents (£2,500,000), but it is certain that they were never able to pay this amount. We may be sure, on the other hand, that many offerings had been made in the intervening time, and that as the treasury had remained intact for twenty years, it probably contained considerable wealth.

III.

THE SWARM FROM THE NORTH

For a century and a half after the events recorded in my last chapter, no important southward movement of the northern nations took place. The destruction of one great host of Gaul and the permanent settlement of another in Western Asia must have diminished the population of the region beyond the Alps, and lightened the pressure on the means of living. Rome was not called upon to meet any powerful army of invaders; a fortunate circumstance, when we consider the exhaustion that must have followed the terrible struggle of the Second Punic War. After the wars of the first half of the second century B.C., which practically reduced the successors of Alexander to insignificance, Rome even began to advance her frontiers northward.

Curiously enough these successes had the effect of bringing down on the Republic a more formidable attack, the invasion led by Brennus not excepted, than she ever had had to meet before. For some years previous to the year 113 B.C., a homeless people called Cimbri, a word variously translated by friends and enemies as "champions" or "robbers," had been wandering about in the regions north of the Danube. The word suggests the well-known name of Cymri, but the resemblance of sound is deceptive. The Cimbri were really of the Germanic stock. In fact a remnant of the tribe preserved the name for many years afterwards in what seems to have been its original habitation, the peninsula of Denmark. What cause drove them southward cannot be stated with certainty. An ancient writer records one account that had come to his ears, that large tracts of land occupied by the tribe on the shores of the Baltic had been overflowed by the sea, and that its inhabitants were compelled to migrate or to starve. The story seemed incredible to the writer who preserved it. To us, who can easily find a parallel in the history of the great migrations of mankind, it appears not improbable. And this, in the absence of evidence, which indeed is not likely to be forthcoming, is all that we can say. For some time the Celtic tribes that occupied the banks of the Danube had kept the Cimbri from reaching that river. But when the Celts had been seriously weakened by the armies of Rome, they were no longer able, or, it may be, no longer willing to continue this resistance. It is quite likely indeed that they welcomed as allies the people which they had been accustomed to regard as enemies. One thing is certain, that either then, or during their previous wanderings, the Cimbri had added to their hosts many Celtic comrades. The Celts were better armed, more advanced in the military art, and—a most important consideration—more familiar with the Roman methods of warfare. Hence we are not surprised to find among the leaders of the invading host, Germanic as it was in the main, some unquestionably Celtic names.