For why, the good old rule
Contented them; the simple plan
That they should take, who have the power,
And they should keep, who can:
and in truth circumstances fully justified them in adopting this simple and compendious rule of action, which they followed with no ordinary success, carrying off corn, wine, and cattle, equally from their own country, now occupied by Lacedæmonians, and from Laconia; and providing for their other wants with the ransoms paid for men and moveables captured in their predatory excursions. At last the Spartans found out that it was worse than lost labour to sow, where an enemy was to reap; and forbade the cultivation, not only of Messenia, but even of the borders of Laconia. So great a sacrifice bespeaks the formidable nature of the enemy, and produced disturbances, in appeasing which the value of Tyrtæus was again displayed. The measure was highly politic, for it compelled the Messenians to gain their livelihood by long and dangerous excursions. In one of these Aristomenes, being surprised by a superior force, was stunned by a blow, and taken, with fifty of his comrades. Cruelty is almost the necessary consequence of injustice; and though the Messenians, and especially Aristomenes, seem always to have treated their prisoners with humanity, it was resolved to insure future quiet by sacrificing a man whose only crime was perseverance in his country’s cause. The Spartans executed criminals by throwing them into a deep pit, called Ceada: into this Aristomenes and his companions were precipitated. All, except the hero, were killed by the fall, and he, reserved apparently for a more dreadful fate, retired to the extremity of the cavern, and for three days sat, his head wrapped in his cloak, in patient expectation of a lingering and painful death. At the end of that time he heard a slight noise, and raising his head (his eyes by this time had become accustomed to the gloom) perceived a fox gnawing the dead bodies. It might have occurred to a less ready wit, that where there is an entrance there may also be a way out; he caught the fox, and allowing it to follow its own path without suffering it to escape, was led along a dark passage, terminating in a crevice just large enough to admit the animal, through which a glimmering of light appeared. Dismissing his guide uninjured, he enlarged the opening with his hands, and against hope even, as well as probability, stood once more free to vindicate his country. It was of course supposed that a special providence, on this as on other occasions, guarded his safety; and many, to magnify the wonder, asserted that an eagle interposed itself in the fall, and bore him down secure from all harm.
The whole event was considered marvellous: first, such was his lofty spirit, and renown in arms, that none believed Aristomenes would be taken alive; but his return from the bowels of the earth was still more amazing, and was held to be a manifest interposition of the Deity. The Lacedæmonians, indeed, refused to believe it, until the total destruction of a body of Corinthians marching to assist in the siege of Eira, “convinced them that Aristomenes, and no other of the Messenians, had done this.”
After this occurrence he performed a second time a rite peculiar to the Messenians, called Hecatomphonia; a sacrifice offered to the Ithomæan[37] Jupiter, by such as had slain a hundred men in battle. He had celebrated it for the first time after the battle at the Boar’s Tomb; the slaughter of the Corinthians gave him a second opportunity; and he is said to have offered it yet a third time. The Lacedæmonians now concluded a truce for forty days, that they might go home, to celebrate one of their great annual festivals. Aristomenes wandering abroad without suspicion during its continuance, was seized by seven Cretan bowmen, who, while the Spartans were feasting, amused themselves by traversing the country. Two of them set off to bear the news to Sparta: the others carried him to a neighbouring village, in which a girl dwelt, who, in a dream in the preceding night, had seen a lion brought thither in bonds, and deprived of claws, by wolves. She loosed it, the claws returned, and it destroyed its captors. When Aristomenes was brought in, and she heard his name, the interpretation of the dream flashed across her mind. She intoxicated the soldiers, and set him free; the treacherous Cretans fell an easy prey. In recompence for his life, he gave his preserver in marriage to his son Gorgus.
Such was the fortune of the war for ten years. After the destructive battle at Megaletaphrus, in the third year, when their cause was ruined by the defection of the Arcadians, Aristomenes and the seer Theoclus consulted the Delphic oracle concerning the fate of their country. The answer ran thus—
When the he–goat shall bend to drink where dimpling Neda flows,
Messene’s fate draws nigh; no more can I avert her woes.
In the eleventh year of the siege of Eira, the fourteenth of the war, Theoclus, while walking along the bank of the river Neda, observed a wild fig–tree, which in the Messenian tongue was called by the same word which signifies a he–goat, that had grown slanting out of the bank, and then just swept the water with its branches. He brought Aristomenes to the place, and they agreed that the prophecy had received its fulfilment, and the hope of the nation was at an end. There were certain objects preserved in secret, and invested with peculiar sanctity, such as the Palladium enjoyed in Troy. If these were lost, the fortune of Messenia sunk with them for ever; if not, ancient oracles foretold that the Messenians should again enjoy their own. Believing that the fated time had arrived, Aristomenes buried secretly the mystic treasure in the wildest and most desolate part of Mount Ithome; in the persuasion that the deities, who had till then supported them in a righteous struggle, would still watch over the mysterious pledge of their safety.[38]
Pausanias seems to take a malicious pleasure in observing that Eira, no less than Troy, owed its ruin to a woman. A herdsman, belonging to Emperamus, a Spartan of distinction, had fled from his master, and lived near the river Neda. He gained the affections of a Messenian woman, who dwelt without the walls of Eira, and used to visit her when her husband was on guard. One night, the husband’s sudden return compelled him to conceal himself: a storm of extraordinary violence had caused the guard to disperse, trusting that the inclement season would keep the Lacedæmonians quiet, and aware that Aristomenes could not go the rounds, according to his custom, since he was lying ill of a recent wound. The herdsman listened to this account, and perceived that it was a favourable opportunity for making his peace, and even securing reward. He hastened to Emperamus, his master, who was in command at the camp, narrated what had happened, and conducted the army to the assault. The way was difficult, and the night terrible, but they surmounted these impediments, and entered the town before the alarm was given. Taken by surprise, its devoted inhabitants still acted up to the reputation they had so deservedly acquired. Aristomenes and Theoclus, aware that Messenia at length must fall, yet concealed the fulfilment of the oracle, and roused the courage of their comrades to desperation: even the women showed that they preferred death to captivity, and excited the men to higher daring by the participation of their danger. The night passed without advantage to either party, but at day–break the rain poured down in still greater fury, and drove in the faces of the Messenians; and the lightning flashing from the left, an evil omen, at once blinded them and depressed their spirits, while to the Spartans it came from the right, and was welcomed as the harbinger of success. The latter too were far superior in number; but since they could not avail themselves of this advantage in the narrow streets, their general sent back a part to the camp to rest and refresh themselves, with orders to return in the evening, to relieve that division which remained. Pressed thus continually by fresh foes, the wretched Messenians yet protracted the struggle. Three days and three nights they maintained an unceasing fight; at the end of these, watching, and cold, and wet, and thirst, and hunger, had exhausted their strength. Then Theoclus addressed Aristomenes: “Why do we still maintain this fruitless labour? The decree has gone forth that Messene must fall: that which we now see was foretold to us long since by the priestess of Apollo, and the fig–tree lately warned us that the time was at hand. God grants to me a common end with my country: it is your part to preserve the Messenians and yourself.” He rushed among the enemy, exclaiming, “Ye shall not rejoice in the possessions of the Messenians for ever!” and, sated with slaughter, fell surrounded by the victims of his despair. Aristomenes collected the survivors into a close column, in the centre of which he placed their wives and children, and stationing himself with his chosen band at their head, motioned with his spear to the enemy to allow them a free passage; which the Spartans granted, rather than exasperate their well–tried intrepidity to frenzy. They found a hospitable and friendly reception in Arcadia, the inhabitants of which supplied their wants, and would willingly have assigned to them a portion of their lands; but the ardent spirit of Aristomenes could not brook a quiet submission. Selecting five hundred men, the flower of his army, he asked if they were prepared to die with him in their country’s behalf; and having received their hearty concurrence, proposed a scheme for surprising Sparta, and holding it as a pledge for their own restoration. Three hundred Arcadians volunteered to join him; but their hopes were frustrated a second time by the traitor Aristocrates. On this occasion, however, he was detected, and his former villainy being at the same time revealed, the Arcadians, in just anger, stoned him to death. The Messenians, exhorted to join in the punishment, looked to Aristomenes, who sat weeping, and in imitation of their beloved leader, abstained from sharing in a merited revenge. Tender by nature must have been the heart of one, who, after having slain three hundred men with his own hand, could yet weep over the deserved punishment of an old companion in arms; and it is pleasing to contrast the staunch patriotism of the Messenians, still tempered by moderation and mercy, with the savage and wanton cruelties acted by the polished Greeks of later ages.