‘What, then, do you advise?’ he asked.
‘Keep back your fleet indefinitely. Reduce your payments to the Spartans. Pay them no more than three obols a day, and do not pay that too regularly.’
‘But if the Spartans threaten to break off the alliance before Athens is sufficiently weakened?’ objected Tissaphernes.
‘Point out to them that the Athenians allow their sailors but three obols, that the war has already lasted so long without result that it is impossible to go on paying the subsidy much longer. And the Spartan admirals and high officials are not above taking a small bribe—pay them, and they will not complain too loudly of the reduction of the payment to their men. Treat the towns and islands that have thrown off their allegiance to Athens in the same way—forget to pay the subsidy that you have promised.’
This advice was taken. It not only had the appearance of sound policy, but it happened to agree with the interests of Tissaphernes, who, like some others, would rather spend the money he squeezed out of the subjects of the king on his own delights and favourites than squander it in paying subsidies to other nations.
At the end of the next month the drachma a day for each man in the Spartan fleet remained unpaid, nor could their leaders get a satisfactory answer to their importunities. At length some of the high commissioners came to demand, rather indignantly, the fulfilment of the treaty. Tissaphernes received them courteously, and promised to put their grievances before the great king his master, and do his best to get the Persian fleet to come as soon as possible to their assistance. He assured them it would not be long before the order was given, and in the meantime he counselled them not to engage the Athenians at sea. As to the non-payment of the subsidy, he promised that something should be given at once, and a private douceur to each of the commissioners softened their feelings with regard to the ill-paid sailors. They returned to Rhodes and laid up the chief part of their fleet there for the present. It remained laid up all the autumn and the winter, a respite of incalculable benefit to Athens.
When the revolted Ionian towns came to complain that the pecuniary assistance promised them when they forsook the Athenian alliance was not paid, they were received in audience by Alkibiades, who seemed to manage everything now for Tissaphernes.
‘What!’ said he to those from Chios in a tone of anger. ‘You, the richest of the Greek islands, you who owe your freedom from the yoke of Athens to the Persians, you ask for money from them! Before you revolted, how much had you to pay to Athens? Ought you not to make as great, or greater, sacrifices now when it concerns your liberty?’
They went away dissatisfied.
At Samos the feeling we lately saw growing amongst the Athenians there was daily becoming more acute. Both army and navy were verging on an open demonstration against the government at home. Alkibiades, never idle, in the midst of his apparent indolence, was not ignorant of the movement. And so it happened that one day, towards the end of the autumn of 412, a sailor named Agrestides landed at Samos. He was not long in making friends among the Athenian sailors who swarmed about Samos doing nothing. They met in the wine-shops, on the quays, in many places. Agrestides had been in the Sicilian expedition, and had escaped, he said, after the fatal fight at Syrakuse, when the whole fleet with almost all the Athenian sailors was lost. He had been picked up by a Carthaginian vessel, and after many wanderings and adventures had found himself at Sparta, where he had passed as a Messanian; thence, he told them, he had got on board a Spartan ship and had gone with certain Spartan commissioners to Kaunos, and so on to Miletos. While there he had met his old general, Alkibiades, who was, he heard, greater than ever, and was now governing, in the satrap’s name, all the Ionian possessions of the Persian king.’