Four thousand men of Peloponnese.”
The next lines quoted by Herodotus refer to the Lacedæmonians alone:—
“Stranger, unto the Lacedæmonians tell
That here we lie obedient to their laws.”
The epitaph of the seer Megistios followed, written by his friend the poet Simonides.
It is remarkable that in the lines recorded by Herodotus there is no mention of the Thespians or other allies who came not from Peloponnese. It seems, however, from what Strabo says, Strabo, 425. that five memorial pillars were erected on the spot, one of which recorded the memory of the Locrians who perished; Anthol. Pal. Append. 94. and an epigram of the Megarian Philiades on the fallen Thespians is also extant, which was very possibly that engraved on one of the stelæ on the mound.
To contemporary Greeks, and to Greeks of after time, Thermopylæ seemed, if not the most important, the most impressive page in the history of the race. It was regarded as an act of pure self-sacrifice, whose splendour was such as to place it outside the range of any logical discussion as to its practical strategic value. The sole motive which was attributed to the gallant band who fought the last fight was a stern, unyielding sense of duty, such as might serve as a pattern to all after-time. There can be no doubt that this popular view had an enormous moral effect. It gave the Greek a higher ideal of his national character at his best; and in the history of any nation any sacrifice which can have that effect is but a small price to pay, even if the purely practical result of the sacrifice be small.
Before attempting any estimate of the real nature of the sacrifice, it will be well to realize how it happened that the Greek world generally came to adopt what was, in certain important respects, a mistaken view of it. Herodotus’ narrative shows clearly the cause of this phenomenon. The circumstances of the disaster were such that the Spartan authorities were left in a position to impress their own explanation on the facts that came to light. Herodotus gives what was, no doubt, the authorized version. Its origin is plain. It is from beginning to end drawn from Lacedæmonian sources. The Spartan is not merely the protagonist in the tragedy; he is practically the only actor who appears on the stage in the final act, except the unfortunate Theban, the villain of the piece. The whole story was calculated to elevate the idea which the Greek world held of the Spartan character. In one sense it had its effect. It is impossible to doubt that from that day forward the Spartans were credited with an heroic courage which knew no yielding. How strong, how thorough, how lasting was this conviction in the Greek mind is shown by the tremendous impression produced more than fifty years later by the surrender of the Spartans on Sphakteria, the desperate nature of the position in which they found themselves failing to save the shock to their national reputation. But is it not strange that the Thespians did not share the reputation? In certain respects the part which they played at Thermopylæ had been even more glorious than that of Leonidas and his men. THE LAST HOURS AT THERMOPYLÆ. The seven hundred citizens by whom they were represented constituted to them an infinitely greater stake in the perilous game than the three hundred Spartans and their attendant Helots did to Sparta.
But in one important respect the official Spartan version failed conspicuously to have the effect which it was doubtless intended to convey. The Greek did not at this or any other time allow his admiration of the national character of the Spartan to warp his judgment with regard to the Spartan government. He was perfectly well aware that the personal bravery of the Spartans in the field stood in strong contrast to the pusillanimity of the policy of their rulers. If he had any illusions on the subject at the beginning of the war, the events of the war itself were strikingly calculated to disillusion him. There can be no possible question as to the personal bravery of the Spartans in every action, whether on land or sea, in so far as pure fighting qualities are concerned; there can be no question as to the greatness of the Spartan contribution to the final result; but Sparta got little credit for the result in after-time.
It is impossible to close this chapter without making some attempt to form an estimate of the mental attitude with which Leonidas faced the situation in which he found himself involved on the morning of the final struggle in the pass. It is necessary, in examining the popular story, to remember that Leonidas’ conduct is not represented as a sacrifice to the stern duty imposed by Spartan discipline, but to one of the alternatives put forward on the authority of an oracular response. There was possibly a tinge of fatalism about the character of the man which lent a colouring to the tale of his death current at the time. He died, so it was said, to save his country, not from actual, but from predicted disaster. If this was the case, it is quite comprehensible that his Spartan bodyguard should be involved in the fate of their master. To them Spartan law and custom made the consequences of desertion worse than death. But, leaving the Theban contingent out of the question, what, under the circumstances, could possibly have induced the Thespians to involve themselves in the fate of one who was sacrificing himself to a prediction which did not concern them? What possible feeling, sentimental or practical, could have prompted them to share the fate of a self-doomed man? That was the weak spot in the Spartan version of Thermopylæ. No attempt was made to explain it. The hypothesis which lay at the root of the story made it inexplicable. Nor does it seem to have struck those who invented this story, that under the theory put forward by them, Leonidas, without any motive whatsoever, deliberately allowed 700 devoted men of a little Bœotian city to share a doom which was his and his alone.