The great Persian War and its preliminaries

by G. B. Grundy

SUMMIT OF ANOPÆA, LOOKING EAST.

1. Mount Saromata.

[To face page [301].

The Path of the Anopæa.

Leake gives what is, in so far as it goes, a fairly accurate description of this path (“Northern Greece,” vol. ii.); but he does not say that he actually traversed it. I am inclined to think that his information was derived from the natives of old Drakospilia, which seems to have been in existence in his time. When at Thermopylæ in July–August, 1899, I was able to traverse the path from beginning to end. On the first day I had no difficulty in tracing that part of it which lies above the actual pass of Thermopylæ. I intended to follow it to its end that day; but, at a monastery on the hills above the plain west of the pass, we got upon a wrong track, leading straight down into the plain about two miles east of the Asopos ravine. On the next day I went up that ravine to try and discover a path, if any, leading eastwards from it. It took an hour and a quarter to pass through the ravine at a fairly fast walk. It is, as I have already mentioned, a magnificent chasm, with perpendicular sides ranging from seven hundred to nine hundred feet in height. Its width, never great, is in one place contracted to twelve feet. Just as we were about to issue upon the great upland valley of which I have before spoken, a small valley opened out on the left of the ravine, i.e. eastward, and up this a path led. I went up the path, which was a rough one and steep, for several miles, until I reached the new main road, high up on the mountain. On the next day I traced the path from that point to near the monastery of the Panagia, whence on the first day we had inadvertently diverged from it. For nine-tenths of the whole distance from the east end of Thermopylæ to the Asopos ravine, it is absolutely certain that this is the original path of the Anopæa, for the very good reason that it traverses the only line which can be traversed in that very difficult country. In the neighbourhood of the monastery the monks have caused new paths to be constructed, and it is therefore not possible to say with certainty which was the original line of the track. In mentioning distances, I can only speak approximately for the latter two-thirds of the road, as I could get but few compass bearings to points in my map, and these were all in the eastern third of the way. I do not think that I have exaggerated the distances given, as I have made allowances for the fact that in traversing an extremely rough track, a large part of which runs through thick forest, distances seem greater than they really are. The scenery throughout is most beautiful, finer, I think, than anything I have seen in Greece. As the track leads through a country inhabited, in so far as it is inhabited at all, by semi-civilized Vlach shepherds, it would be unadvisable to attempt to traverse it, at present, at any rate, save with a fairly large party.

I append a detailed description of the path.

Beginning at the mouth of the Asopos ravine, it goes through that chasm almost to its far extremity, a distance, I should say, of two and three-quarter or three miles. For a man or loaded mule the track is not difficult, and is still greatly used in spite of the making of the new road. The new road involves a terrific climb. The bottom of the ravine ascends but slowly; and it is possible to reach the Dorian plain from its southern extremity without attaining any high elevation.

After passing through this ravine, you begin to ascend a valley whose sides are dotted, if I remember rightly, by a scanty covering of small fir-trees. You ascend this valley in a general direction eastwards, until you emerge, after going from two to two and a half miles, on the new road, at a height of perhaps two thousand feet. Crossing that, you proceed through a more or less wooded country for some two miles, to the monastery of the Panagia, along a very rough track. The monastery is about two thousand to two thousand five hundred feet above the plain. From it a steep ascent begins through low, thick forest on the north side of the ridge of Œta, which at this point rises about one thousand feet above you on the right, i.e. on the south. The forest is largely composed of oak, but there are many fir-trees and some planes. The track is so narrow that you are obliged to walk in single file. About three miles from the monastery, when the height attained cannot be less than three thousand two hundred feet, the forest alters in character, and large fir-trees now predominate, which appear to the non-botanical eye to be what are called Scotch firs.

At one point at this part of the track you emerge on a rocky platform at the top of the rocks marked in my map as the Great Gable. The traveller through the pass can see them from the road, if he looks up the great ravine. They rise a little to the right of the line of the ravine, and are a prominent object against the sky horizon of the high range. THE STATION OF THE PHOCIANS. From this point the track leads southwards to turn the upper part of the chasm of the Great Ravine, at a point several miles from its exit near the hot springs. The view down that ravine, with a foreground of giant firs and plane-trees, the great flat plain of Malis in the middle distance, and the range of Othrys in the background, is of extraordinary magnificence. After descending into the ravine and ascending the far side of it, you arrive at the site of Palaia-Drakospilia, a deserted village. From here you ascend for a short distance through a primæval fir forest, to arrive at an open space on the ridge which runs back from the great hill above the hot springs at Thermopylæ. Half a mile away to the north, i.e. towards the summit above the pass, is an old φρούριον, which evidently guarded the path in former days. There can be little doubt that this is where the Phocians were stationed. It is at the true summit of the path, a height of certainly three thousand two hundred and probably of three thousand five hundred feet. It accords with the little Herodotus tells us of the scene of the surprise, save that the trees hereabouts are not oak, but firs. His mention of the oak-trees may, however, be taken to apply to the oak forest through which you pass before arriving at the Great Gable. From this point the path begins to descend. It is very narrow; often steep and rocky. It goes down an upland valley filled with dense primæval fir forest, between the ridge which rises above the pass, and the main ridge of Œta, which rises to a considerable height on the south, and is known by the name of Saromata. This continues for several miles,—I cannot say how many, but I should think not less than five; probably more, as it took us several hours to traverse the distance. This section of the track ends at Upper Drakospilia, a village visible from the road at Thermopylæ, and some one thousand five hundred feet above the plain. From this place there is at the present day a choice of roads down to the plain. The easier leads down to a point near the east gate of the pass, near the site which I believe to be that of Alpenoi. The other is a steep path descending to the plain at a point about half-way between the middle and east gates.

I reckon that the total distance from the Asopos ravine to the little town of Alpenoi cannot be much less than seventeen miles.