Historical Parallels, vol. 2 of 3)

by Arthur Thomas Malkin

The next morning an earthquake occurred at sunrise; upon which it was resolved to implore the favour and protection of Æacus,[51] and the heroes descended from him, whose assistance, according to Grecian superstition, was especially to be depended on in those seas, where they had reigned, and where they were peculiarly worshipped. They paid their vows on the spot to Ajax and Telamon, in their native Salamis, and sent a vessel to offer the same tribute to the other heroes of the family at Ægina; and the appeal was believed, or at least fabled, to have been answered. One Dicæus, an Athenian exile high in the Persian service, asserted that one day, when he was in the Thriasian plain, which stretched from Eleusis northward, in company with Demaratus, the banished king of Sparta, who followed in Xerxes’ train, and was much consulted by the monarch throughout this war, they saw a cloud of dust, such as might be raised by the trampling of 30,000 men, advance from Eleusis. As they were wondering what this might be, they heard a noise, which seemed to him to be the song which the initiated[52] sang in praise of the mystic Iacchus. Dicæus then assured his companion that some great evil was about to befall the Persians; for the gods were manifestly quitting Eleusis on the desolation of Attica to proceed to the assistance of the Greeks, and if they should direct their course towards Peloponnesus, the blow would fall on the land army; if towards Salamis, then Xerxes would run great risk of losing his fleet. Demaratus wisely counselled him to keep silent, or his head might be in no less danger than the Persian marine; and presently the dust rose into a cloud, which was borne off in the direction of Salamis![53]

The losses of the Persian fleet by storm and battle were repaired by reinforcements drawn from the islanders, Bœotians and others, upon its arrival at Phalerum, one of the ports of Athens. Xerxes in person presided at a council of war, when it was debated whether the fortune of another battle should be tried or no. All raised their voices in the affirmative, except Artemisia, a Grecian heroine, daughter of Lygdamis, and widow of another tyrant of Halicarnassus, who had joined the fleet with five galleys, which she herself commanded, attended regularly at the council board, and was high in the favour of the Persian monarch. She urged him to spare his ships, and not engage with an enemy as superior to his troops at sea as men to women; and said that nothing was to be gained by a battle, for he was already in possession of Attica, the great object of the campaign; and the adverse fleet, if he only remained quiet, would soon be compelled to disperse for want of provisions; while, if he advanced by land against Peloponnesus, it would immediately separate, and all would fly to their several homes, without caring to stay and fight in defence of the Athenians. Xerxes acknowledged the advice to be good, but was guided by the opinion of the majority; and attributing former defeats to the want of his personal presence and encouragement, he determined to be a spectator of the battle, which was ordered to take place upon the morrow. That same night the land forces marched towards the Isthmus, which so much alarmed the Peloponnesians, already discontented and uneasy lest they should be defeated and blockaded in Salamis, that the indecision of Eurybiades was loudly reprobated, and it was tumultuously resolved not to stay to risk a battle in behalf of an already conquered country. In this crisis Themistocles had recourse to a measure singularly illustrative of the bold and crooked policy which he loved to pursue. He despatched a trusty dependant to the hostile fleet, to say that the Athenian admiral, being well disposed to the king, had sent him to give information that the Greeks were on the point of flight; and that now was the time to strike a decisive blow, because they were at variance with each other, and in an engagement many would espouse the Persian cause. The bait was taken; the Persians landed a detachment on the little islet of Psyttaleia, lying between Salamis and the main, to overpower the crews of any vessels that might be driven ashore there, and sent a force round Salamis to occupy the other end of the strait between that islet and the continent, in which the Greeks were posted, and thus deprive them of the possibility of retreat. All this passed in the course of one evening, during which the dissensions of the Greeks, ignorant that they were blockaded, had protracted their council to a late hour of the night, when Aristides, surnamed the Just, a man hostile above all others to Themistocles, and who, through his influence, had been banished from Athens, came to help his country in her distress as he best might, and forgot all private animosity in her service. Sailing from Ægina, he fell in with the enemy; and having heard that the Peloponnesians were urgent to retreat upon the Isthmus, he called Themistocles out from the assembly and addressed him thus: “It becomes us to contend, both at other seasons and at this also, which of us two shall most benefit his country.” He added that they were now surrounded, and that deliberation concerning flight was vain, because Eurybiades and the Corinthians could not depart if they would: and bid Themistocles inform the assembly of this. Themistocles avowed in return that this was done by his own contrivance, adding, that since the Greeks would not fight of their own good will, it was necessary to compel them; and bid Aristides himself carry in the tidings to the council. While the dispute still raged, some believing, others rejecting the intelligence, it was confirmed by a Tenian vessel which deserted from the enemy.

At break of day, October 20th, b.c. 480, if we may trust implicitly to chronologers, they prepared for battle, and were no sooner in motion than the Persians advanced to meet them, Xerxes being stationed at the foot of Mount Ægaleos, near the port Phoron,[54] on a spot which commanded a view of the scene of action. The wind at that hour mostly blew fresh from the sea, and rolled up a strong current; two circumstances which gave the low-built Grecian ships a decided advantage over their loftier and more unwieldy opponents. For a naval conflict was chiefly carried on by means of the iron beaks with which vessels’ bows were armed, the great object being to strike an enemy upon the side, and thus, if the shock were direct and violent, sink her altogether, or at all events dash away her oars, and thus render her unmanageable. It was therefore of vital importance that they should readily obey the helm. Now a side wind had little effect upon the Grecian ships, but it disordered the Persian, which were built high in the bows and stern, to procure the advantage in a close engagement, when, as was the older usage, ship grappled with ship, and the issue, as in a land battle, depended chiefly upon the exertions of the heavy-armed soldiers: and by disordering them, it at once broke the momentum of their charge, and exposed them to what was so much dreaded, an oblique attack. The Greeks, when fairly confronted with the first mass of the hostile fleet, were seized with something like a panic; and reversing the action of their oars fell back toward the land, still keeping their prows turned towards the enemy. Ameinias, brother to the poet Æschylus, and to Cynægirus, who was slain at Marathon after distinguishing his valour, broke the spell by dashing singly into the hostile ranks; and the rest then followed his example. It was said that at this moment a female figure appearing in the air gave the word to charge loud enough for the whole fleet to hear, exclaiming reproachfully, “How long for shame will ye yet back your vessels?” The event, however, seems not to have been very long doubtful. The Persians came to the attack without order, so that when the first line was routed, fresh ships crowding up from the rear, and eager to distinguish themselves under the eyes of their sovereign, ran foul of their comrades, and thus completing their wreck, were themselves thrown into confusion, and rendered unable to attack in concert, and with any probability of success. Numbers of ships were driven ashore on Salamis and destroyed, and while the action was going on Aristides landed with a body of troops upon the island Psyttaleia, and put to the sword all the Persians who were there, under the very eye of their monarch. When the Persians began to fall into confusion, the ship of Artemisia was hard pressed by an Athenian galley commanded by Ameinias, who had commenced the action, and was one of the three who were considered to have acquitted themselves best in the conflict. Being unable to retreat for the press of friendly vessels, she steered against the ship of Damasithymus, prince of Calynda in Lycia, and sunk him outright. Whether chance directed her against his vessel, or whether she selected it on account of any previous ill will, the historian professes his inability to inform us; the stratagem at least succeeded, for the Athenian took it for granted that he was pursuing one of his own side by mistake, and turned to seek some other enemy. On seeing this feat, Xerxes, who was eager to inquire by whom each action worthy of observation was performed, expressed his admiration, supposing that it was a foe that had perished, and said that his men had turned women, and his women men. No historian has attempted to give a detailed account of such a scene of confusion as the battle must have presented, nor has any statement of the respective losses of the combatants been preserved. We may presume that of the Persians to have been immense, not only from the strong expression of Æschylus,[55] that the sea was scarce visible for the wrecks and gore which overspread it, and that the shores were covered with corpses, but from knowing that, when collected the next spring at Samos, their fleet numbered only 300 vessels. Immediately after the battle the remnant of the armament returned to the Hellespont, so broken in spirit, that upon the sight of a few rocks lying near the promontory Zoster, the most projecting point on the western coast of Attica, they mistook them for the enemy, and dispersed in dismay.

The supernatural appearance at the moment of commencing the engagement is mentioned by Herodotus in terms that leave it doubtful whether it was a fiction propagated in the heat of action to remove a timidity fatal to the Grecian cause, or the growth of later times. If the former, it is a stratagem creditable to the ready wit of him who invented it, unless we rather believe it to have been a preconcerted fraud on the part of the Athenian commanders. The example of Pisistratus will prove that such a fraud was not alien to the character of the Athenians; and a similar story is related of Pericles, not half a century later. That eminent general and statesman, previous to a battle, observed a dark and extensive wood, consecrated to Pluto, situated so as to be visible to both armies alike. Within its shelter he stationed a man of extraordinary stature, whose appearance was rendered more imposing by all that dress and equipage could supply. His natural height increased by high-soled buskins, clothed in purple, and with flowing hair, he was placed in a lofty chariot drawn by white horses, with orders to advance upon the signal of battle being given, and call upon Pericles by name, and exhort him to confidence by the assurance that the gods were on the Athenian side. The effect was such that the enemy scarce waited for the first flight of javelins to turn their backs.[56] Not less useful to the Spanish cause was the belief that Santiago fought upon their side against the Moors. Ramiro, king of Arragon, had fought a whole day with the Moors: darkness separated the combatants, and preserved the Christian power from destruction. The king having spent the first part of the night in deep anxiety concerning the fate of the morrow, was at length overtaken by sleep, and in a dream saw one who bade him be of good cheer, for that assuredly the Christians would gain the victory; and declared himself to be the Apostle James, to whose ward Spain was committed, and whose protection they should experience on the morrow provided they pacified their minds by wholesome confession, and, fortified with the holy sacrament, advanced with a firm hope to the renewal of the fray. The king communicated his dream to the prelates and barons, who hailed the assurance with joy, and having obeyed the saint’s injunctions, charged the Saracens in the name of God and St. James with such alacrity, that 60,000 were left dead upon the field. The apostle himself was conspicuous amidst the fight, mounted on a white horse, with a snow-white banner, charged with a red cross. From that time it has been usual with the Spaniards in all battles, especially with unbelievers and heathens, to call upon the name of God and St. James, which serves them for their watch-word.[57]

This disaster put a final stop to the advance of the Persians. Xerxes, wearied and discouraged by a series of misfortunes, willingly listened to a proposal, that he should return himself to Persia with the bulk of the army, and leave his brother-in-law, Mardonius, with 300,000 picked men, to complete the reduction of Greece. One story runs, that he crossed the Hellespont without fleet or army in an open boat: but not the smallest countenance is given by Herodotus to this report, which probably has no other foundation than the practice common to story-tellers in all ages, of adding ornament to what is in itself sufficiently striking. His retreat was protected by 60,000 men detached by Mardonius; but the sufferings of the multitude who followed him, and of whom no care could be taken, were dreadful. They left behind them a track, like that of locusts; even the grass and bark of trees were devoured; and disease, the natural consequence of cold and hunger, carried off thousands whom the sword and famine had spared.

Xerxes seems to have entirely abandoned Attica, so that the Athenians returned without further contest to their homes: not, indeed, to enjoy them in quiet, but to give a fresh example of disinterestedness and devotion to the cause of their allies requited by ingratitude little short of treachery. Mardonius wintered in Thessaly, but, early in the spring, he sent ambassadors to detach, if possible, Athens from the Grecian cause. Xerxes, he said, had ordered him to announce that their offences should be fully forgiven, their territory restored, and increased by any other which they might choose, their temples rebuilt, and their independence secured, if they would only make submission to the king. “Why then,” he added, “are you so frenzied as to continue a war, in which you cannot conquer, nor yet resist for ever? For you know the multitude and the exploits of Xerxes’ army, and have heard what force is now under my command; and if you should vanquish me, which, however, you have no ground to hope, still you will be attacked by another armament many times as great.” The friendly envoy, Alexander, king of Macedonia, in vain added his own persuasions to these tempting offers: the reply is worthy of being preserved. “We know that the power of the Mede is many times greater than our own, so that it was unnecessary to reproach us therewith; but yet, being ardently desirous of liberty, we will defend ourselves as best we may. Tell Mardonius, therefore, that the Athenians say, so long as the sun shall run his present course, we never will submit ourselves to Xerxes, but will march against him, relying on the gods, who fight for us, and the heroes; whose temples and images he, holding them in no respect, has burnt.” To the Lacedæmonians, who sent a pressing embassy to remind them of their obligations to support the confederate cause, and, professing sympathy and regret for the losses which they had sustained, offered to support their women and those who were unserviceable for war, they replied in a similar tone, that no wealth should bribe them to be accessory to the enslaving of Greece; and that to avenge the insulted honour of their gods was a sacred duty: they declined, though with thanks, the offer of assistance to support their families, and only requested, that since their reply would unquestionably produce an immediate invasion, the Lacedæmonians would be ready at the first notice to march into Bœotia, and save them, if possible, from being again obliged to abandon their country.[58]

In return for this devotion, the Spartans, as before, suffered Mardonius unopposed to occupy Attica, and, unmoved by the pressing entreaties of the Athenians, they remained at home, until it was suggested that to fortify the Isthmus would be of little use, if the sea were left free to the barbarians by the defection of the better half of the Grecian fleet. This observation produced immediate effect, and an army of 5000 Spartans and 35,000 Helots was instantly despatched, though not until the Persian invasion had again compelled the Athenians to remove their families and effects to Salamis. Mardonius, finding the Athenians immovable, burnt the city, which he had hitherto spared, and retreated into Bœotia, as offering a better field for the evolutions of his cavalry. There this eventful war was closed by the glorious victory of Platæa.

But it is not to Salamis and to Platæa that we wish especially to direct the reader’s admiration, for military virtue is a plant of hardy and extensive growth. It is the spectacle of a nation once and again quitting an endeared home (and there is much of misery comprised in these few words) in preference to owning a foreign master; and persevering in its exalted course, unchanged even by the ingratitude and injustice of those countrymen for whose welfare, conjointly with its own liberty, it rejected the most tempting offers of wealth and security, to which we look as the best justification of those high-flown eulogiums which the later Athenians bestowed so liberally upon their ancestors. In seeking for a parallel case in modern history, the conflagration of Moscow at once suggests itself; but the obscurity which involves the origin of that remarkable and important event renders it impossible to determine how far the same spirit prompted the one and the other sacrifice; and the recent occurrence and notoriety of the latter furnishes an additional reason for passing it over. In its place, therefore, we shall select the most striking incident, perhaps, in the long and glorious war waged by the Low Countries for the recovery of their liberties:—the siege of Leyden, in the year 1574, when the Dutch, in greater straits than the Athenians, and unable either to defend or abandon their country, called in the powers of nature to their assistance, and sank it under the waters, rather than surrender its strongholds to the Spanish tyrant.

“Now follows the Siege of Leyden, which was particularly memorable for the condition of the succour, which so altered the order of affairs, as the besiegers became besieged; and look,—what unhappy success the assailed expected, the assailant made trial of the very same. Leyden is one of the chief towns of Holland; it is seated low, amongst, as may be said, a labyrinth of channels, part of which are running, part standing waters, and which cut through the territories thereof on all sides. The Rhine runs through it with one of its branches, which now is the weakest, but hath formerly been the most frequented; though this retain its ancient name, whereas the rest, as they draw near the sea, change it into that of other rivers. So many other channels are derived from this branch within the town itself in several parts, as the space, which is there broken off by the islands, is in a sort larger than what is united to the continent. But if it be divided by so many channels, it is rejoined by many more bridges. Of which there are about an hundred and fifty, where they may serve either for use or ornament; and the most of them are of stone. The town is well peopled; her streets are large buildings, well polished; it is well flanked round about; her ditch is everywhere deep; and in fine she is in all circumstances of such condition, as the king’s men had good reason to use all endeavours to gain her, as also the rebels to keep possession of her.

“The royalists betook themselves with diligence to be masters of all avenues, whereby succour might be kept from the town. The parts thereabouts (as hath been said) are full of channels and rivers: wherefore it was thought necessary to block up all passages with sundry forts, by which the city might be come to, either by land or water; so as, ere long, there were little less than sixty forts built round about it, whereby almost all possibility of relieving it was taken away. The Leydenists this meanwhile were not wanting on their parts in preparing for defence. And judging that the royalists intended rather to take the town by famine than by the sword, they thought it not convenient to receive many foreign soldiers into the city; as well the longer to preserve their victuals, as for that they hoped they had men enough of their own to maintain and defend it.[59]