Alkibiades, a tale of the Great Athenian War

by Charles Hamilton Bromby

He put aside the offer laughingly. He hesitated, and communed with himself, but only for one day.

‘Tell me, Agrestides,’ he said that night, ‘shall I be king of Athens, like Theseus?’

‘No,’ said Agrestides, ‘be a man, like Alkibiades.’

‘Agrestides, thrice hast thou saved me—first from the Spartans, then from the Persians, now from my greatest enemy, myself.’

In the morning he gave orders that the fleet must be ready to depart next day.

At the head of a hundred triremes he set sail at the dawn of a mid-September day. Shading his eyes from the rising sun, he looked onward, as if trying to wrest its secret from the future. Then he turned towards Athens. He saw the uplifted hands of thousands praying for blessings on him as he went. He knew he might have been their king, perhaps the founder of a kingly race, and the saviour of the people from themselves. But the splendour of his Athens, the largeness of her arts and literature, her greatness, which was to live for ever in the wonder of the ages and the races yet to come—these things had been grown and nurtured, they had flourished, in her free soil; they would be cramped and would perish under a fat and lazy despotism. His hand should never be the hand that killed them. He stamped his foot upon the deck to check—his anger, disappointment? No, only his emotion. He was never prouder of himself than at that moment; he was proud of what he had done for Athens; proud of what he was going to strive to do for her; prouder, much prouder, of what he had refused to do. Thousands were waving hands to him, and bidding him gratefully adieu. How many knew what he had renounced for them? How many knew that they would never look upon his face again? He saw the Eros lying in the harbour, grown too old for the hard service on which he is bound. He gazed at the citadel, and at the helmed Athene. Did any sad foreboding cross his mind that he should never more behold that much-loved place? He passed by Aigina, where his ancestor was once king—there might be kings in those days—his royal body lying in its sanctuary, surrounded by white marble walls. Strange the thought that for a moment glanced across his mind, that he might soon see that ancient king now a judge in Hades, but might never see his land again.

He made first for the isle of Andros, where the inhabitants had revolted and received a Spartan garrison. He dispersed the native troops and the Spartan soldiers, who attempted to resist his landing, chased them through the island, posted an Athenian garrison at Gaurion, and left Konon, one of his best officers, with twenty triremes to reduce the capital; and then set sail for Samos, which became again his base of operations.

Almost immediately after he left Athens a signal tribute was paid to his military genius and strength. Agis had been watching him from Dekeleia, fuming at the insult of the procession that dared to pass almost beneath his eyes to Eleusis, and challenged him, as it were, to come out and try to stop it. He had remained safely shut up behind his walls as long as the conqueror was there. No sooner was he gone than he made an attack upon the city with 28,000 foot and 12,000 horse. On a dark night he surprised the outposts near the Keramik gate, massacred the guard, and had it not been for the system of vigilance which had lately been established, as far as we can see, the city must have fallen to the Spartan. The alarm was given. Torches beckoned from the Akropolis, and were answered by torches on the other heights. Athens was up in arms. Every citizen ran to the post which had been assigned to him. And thus, though Alkibiades was far away, it was his care and watchfulness which saved the town.

In the morning the people discovered Agis and his Lakedaimonians lying close to the walls. The cavalry rode right up to them, calling to the Athenians to come out and fight them. The Keramik gate suddenly opened, and as if still instinct with the life that Alkibiades had breathed into their souls, his horsemen charged the enemy, and drove them off. Next day the Athenian hoplites marched out, and took their stand before the walls. Agis attacked them in vain, and, covered by the archers and peltasts from the walls, the hoplites did some execution on the invading army. The Spartan Agis thought it wiser for the present to return to his fortress at Dekeleia.

By the time Alkibiades arrived at Samos events had happened that utterly ruined the hopes and plans which he had formed, and changed the course of Grecian history. Two fresh characters appeared upon the scene. The Spartans, when their informal overtures for peace had been rejected, set themselves vigorously to work to repair the damage done them by the crushing defeat at Kyzikos, and the subsequent loss of the support of Pharnabazos. They appointed Lysandros, the ablest of their rising men, to the command of the fleet, for they had need of an able commander at this crisis, and they saw not the depth of his designs.