The wrath of that monarch, as he went over the field after the close of the action, vented itself upon the corpse of the gallant Leonidas, whose head he directed to be cut off and fixed on a cross. But it was not wrath alone which filled his mind: he was farther impressed with involuntary admiration of the little detachment which had here opposed to him a resistance so unexpected and so nearly invincible,—he now learned to be anxious respecting the resistance which remained behind. “Demaratus (said he to the exiled Spartan king at his side), thou art a good man: all thy predictions have turned out true: now tell me, how many Lacedæmonians are there remaining, and are they all such warriors as these fallen men?” “O king (replied Demaratus), the total of the Lacedæmonians and of their towns is great; in Sparta alone, there are eight thousand adult warriors, all equal to those who have here fought; and the other Lacedæmonians, though inferior to them, are yet excellent soldiers.” “Tell me (rejoined Xerxes), what will be the least difficult way of conquering such men?” Upon which Demaratus advised him to send a division of his fleet to occupy the island of Kythêra, and from thence to make war on the southern coast of Laconia, which would distract the attention of Sparta, and prevent her from coöperating in any combined scheme of defence against his land-force. Unless this were done, the entire force of Peloponnesus would be assembled to maintain the narrow isthmus of Corinth, where the Persian king would have far more terrible battles to fight than anything which he had yet witnessed.[183]
Happily for the safety of Greece, Achæmenes, the brother of Xerxes, interposed to dissuade the monarch from this prudent plan of action; not without aspersions on the temper and motives of Demaratus, who, he affirmed, like other Greeks, hated all power, and envied all good fortune, above his own. The fleet, added he, after the damage sustained by the recent storm, would bear no farther diminution of number: and it was essential to keep the entire Persian force, on land as well as on sea, in one undivided and coöperating mass.[184]
A few such remarks were sufficient to revive in the monarch his habitual sentiment of confidence in overpowering number: yet while rejecting the advice of Demaratus, he emphatically repelled the imputations against the good faith and sincere attachment of that exiled prince.[185]
Meanwhile the days of battle at Thermopylæ had been not less actively employed by the fleets at Aphetæ and Artemisium. It has already been mentioned that the Greek ships, having abandoned their station at the latter place and retired to Chalkis, were induced to return, by the news that the Persian fleet had been nearly ruined by the recent storm,—and that, on returning to Artemisium, the Grecian commanders felt renewed alarm on seeing the enemy’s fleet, in spite of the damage just sustained, still mustering in overwhelming number at the opposite station of Aphetæ. Such was the effect of this spectacle, and the impression of their own inferiority, that they again resolved to retire without fighting, leaving the strait open and undefended. Great consternation was caused by the news of their determination among the inhabitants of Eubœa, who entreated Eurybiadês to maintain his position for a few days, until they could have time to remove their families and their property. But even such postponement was thought unsafe, and refused: and he was on the point of giving orders for retreat, when the Eubœans sent their envoy, Pelagon, to Themistoklês, with the offer of thirty talents, on condition that the fleet should keep its station and hazard an engagement in defence of the island. Themistoklês employed the money adroitly and successfully, giving five talents to Eurybiadês, with large presents besides to the other leading chiefs: the most unmanageable among them was the Corinthian Adeimantus,—who at first threatened to depart with his own squadron alone, if the remaining Greeks were mad enough to remain. His alarm was silenced, if not tranquillized, by a present of three talents.[186]
However Plutarch may be scandalized at such inglorious revelations preserved to us by Herodotus respecting the underhand agencies of this memorable struggle, there is no reason to call in question the bribery here described. But Themistoklês doubtless was only tempted to do, and enabled to do, by means of the Eubœan money, that which he would have wished and had probably tried to accomplish without the money,—to bring on a naval engagement at Artemisium. It was absolutely essential to the maintenance of Thermopylæ, and to the general plan of defence, that the Eubœan strait should be defended against the Persian fleet, nor could the Greeks expect a more favorable position to fight in. We may reasonably presume that Themistoklês, distinguished not less by daring than by sagacity, and the great originator of maritime energies in his country, concurred unwillingly in the projected abandonment of Artemisium: but his high mental capacity did not exclude that pecuniary corruption which rendered the presents of the Eubœans both admissible and welcome,—yet still more welcome to him perhaps, as they supplied means of bringing over the other opposing chiefs and the Spartan admiral.[187] It was finally determined, therefore, to remain, and if necessary, to hazard an engagement in the Eubœan strait: but at any rate to procure for the inhabitants of the island a short interval to remove their families. Had these Eubœans heeded the oracles, says Herodotus,[188] they would have packed up and removed long before: for a text of Bakis gave them express warning: but, having neglected the sacred writings as unworthy of credit, they were now severely punished for such presumption.
Among the Persian fleet at Aphetæ, on the other hand, the feeling prevalent was one of sanguine hope and confidence in their superior numbers, forming a strong contrast with the discouragement of the Greeks at Artemisium. Had they attacked the latter immediately, when both fleets first saw each other from their opposite stations, they would have gained an easy victory, for the fleet would have fled, as the admiral was on the point of ordering, even without an attack. But this was not sufficient for the Persians, who wished to cut off every ship among their enemies even from flight and escape.[189] Accordingly, they detached two hundred ships to circumnavigate the island of Eubœa, and to sail up the Eubœan strait from the south, in the rear of the Greeks,—and postponing their own attack in front until this squadron should be in position to intercept the retreating Greeks. But though the manœuvre was concealed by sending the squadron round outside of the island of Skiathos, it became known immediately among the Greeks, through a deserter,—Skyllias of Skionê. This man, the best swimmer and diver of his time, and now engaged like other Thracian Greeks in the Persian service, passed over to Artemisium, and communicated to the Greek commanders both the particulars of the late destructive storm, and the despatch of the intercepting squadron.[190]
It appears that his communications, respecting the effects of the storm and the condition of the Persian fleet, somewhat reassured the Greeks, who resolved during the ensuing night to sail from their station at Artemisium for the purpose of surprising the detached squadron of two hundred ships, and who even became bold enough, under the inspirations of Themistoklês, to go out and offer battle to the main fleet near Aphetæ.[191] Wanting to acquire some practical experience, which neither leaders nor soldiers as yet possessed, of the manner in which Phœnicians and others in the Persian fleet handled and manœuvred their ships, they waited till a late hour of the afternoon, when little daylight remained.[192] Their boldness in thus advancing out, with inferior numbers and even inferior ships, astonished the Persian admirals, and distressed the Ionians and other subject Greeks who were serving them as unwilling auxiliaries: to both it seemed that the victory of the Persian fleet, which was speedily brought forth to battle, and was numerous enough to encompass the Greeks, would be certain as well as complete. The Greek ships were at first marshalled in a circle, with the sterns in the interior, and presenting their prows in front at all points of the circumference;[193] in this position, compressed into a narrow space, they seemed to be awaiting the attack of the enemy, who formed a larger circle around them: but on a second signal given, their ships assumed the aggressive, rowed out from the inner circle in direct impact against the hostile ships around, and took or disabled no less than thirty of them: in one of which Philaon, brother of Gorgus, despot of Salamis in Cyprus, was made prisoner. Such unexpected forwardness at first disconcerted the Persians, who however rallied and inflicted considerable damage and loss on the Greeks: but the near approach of night put an end to the combat, and each fleet retired to its former station,—the Persians to Aphetæ, the Greeks to Artemisium.[194]
The result of this first day’s combat, though indecisive in itself, surprised both parties and did much to exalt the confidence of the Greeks. But the events of the ensuing night did yet more. Another tremendous storm was sent by the gods to aid them. Though it was the middle of summer,—a season when rain rarely falls in the climate of Greece,—the most violent wind, rain, and thunder, prevailed during the whole night, blowing right on shore against the Persians at Aphetæ, and thus but little troublesome to the Greeks on the opposite side of the strait. The seamen of the Persian fleet, scarcely recovered from the former storm at Sêpias Aktê, were almost driven to despair by this repetition of the same peril: the more so when they found the prows of their ships surrounded, and the play of their oars impeded, by the dead bodies and the spars from the recent battle, which the current drove towards their shore. If this storm was injurious to the main fleet at Aphetæ, it proved the entire ruin of the squadron detached to circumnavigate Eubœa, who, overtaken by it near the dangerous eastern coast of that island, called the Hollows of Eubœa, were driven upon the rocks and wrecked. The news of this second conspiracy of the elements, or intervention of the gods, against the schemes of the invaders, was highly encouraging to the Greeks; and the seasonable arrival of fifty-three fresh Athenian ships, who reinforced them the next day, raised them to a still higher pitch of confidence. In the afternoon of the same day, they sailed out against the Persian fleet at Aphetæ, and attacked and destroyed some Kilikian ships even at their moorings; the fleet having been too much damaged by the storm of the preceding night to come out and fight.[195]
But the Persian admirals were not of a temper to endure such insults,—still less to let their master hear of them. About noon on the ensuing day, they sailed with their entire fleet near to the Greek station at Artemisium, and formed themselves into a half moon; while the Greeks kept near to the shore, so that they could not be surrounded, nor could the Persians bring their entire fleet into action; the ships running foul of each other, and not finding space to attack. The battle raged fiercely all day, and with great loss and damage on both sides: the Egyptians bore off the palm of valor among the Persians, the Athenians among the Greeks. Though the positive loss sustained by the Persians was by far the greater, and though the Greeks, being near their own shore, became masters of the dead bodies as well as of the disabled ships and floating fragments,—still, they were themselves hurt and crippled in greater proportion with reference to their inferior total: and the Athenian vessels especially, foremost in the preceding combat, found one half of their number out of condition to renew it.[196] The Egyptians alone had captured five Grecian ships with their entire crews.
Under these circumstances, the Greek leaders,—and Themistoklês, as it seems, among them,—determined that they could no longer venture to hold the position of Artemisium, but must withdraw the naval force farther into Greece:[197] though this was in fact a surrender of the pass of Thermopylæ, and though the removal which the Eubœans were hastening was still unfinished. These unfortunate men were forced to be satisfied with the promise of Themistoklês to give them convoy for their boats and their persons; abandoning their sheep and cattle for the consumption of the fleet, as better than leaving them to become booty for the enemy. While the Greeks were thus employed in organizing their retreat, they received news which rendered retreat doubly necessary. The Athenian Abrônychus, stationed with his ship near Thermopylæ, in order to keep up communication between the army and fleet, brought the disastrous intelligence that Xerxes was already master of the pass, and that the division of Leonidas was either destroyed or in flight. Upon this the fleet abandoned Artemisium forthwith, and sailed up the Eubœan strait; the Corinthian ships in the van, the Athenians bringing up the rear. Themistoklês, conducting the latter, stayed long enough at the various watering-stations and landing-places to inscribe on some neighboring stones invitations to the Ionian contingents serving under Xerxes: whereby the latter were conjured not to serve against their fathers, but to desert, if possible,—or at least, to fight as little and as backwardly as they could. Themistoklês hoped by this stratagem perhaps to detach some of the Ionians from the Persian side, or, at any rate, to render them objects of mistrust, and thus to diminish their efficiency.[198] With no longer delay than was requisite for such inscriptions, he followed the remaining fleet, which sailed round the coast of Attica, not stopping until it reached the island of Salamis.