Meanwhile, the Peloponnesian fleet from Corinth, which had been destined to coöperate with Knêmus off the coast of Akarnania, had found difficulties in its passage, alike unexpected and insuperable. Mustering forty-seven triremes of Corinth, Sikyon, and other places, with a body of soldiers on board, and with accompanying store-vessels,—it departed from the harbor of Corinth, and made its way along the northern coast of Achaia. Its commanders, not intending to meddle with Phormio and his twenty ships at Naupaktus, never for a moment imagined that he would venture to attack a number so greatly superior: the triremes were, accordingly, fitted out more as transports for numerous soldiers than with any view to naval combat,—and with little attention to the choice of skilful rowers.[337]
Except in the combat near Korkyra, and there only partially, the Peloponnesians had never yet made actual trial of Athenian maritime efficiency, at the point of excellence which it had now reached: themselves retaining the old unimproved mode of fighting and of working ships at sea, they had no practical idea of the degree to which it had been superseded by Athenian training. Among the Athenians, on the contrary, not only the seamen generally had a confirmed feeling of their own superiority,—but Phormio especially, the ablest of all their captains, always familiarized his men with the conviction, that no Peloponnesian fleet, be its number ever so great, could possibly contend against them with success.[338] Accordingly, the Corinthian admirals, Machaon and his two colleagues, were surprised to observe that Phormio with his small Athenian squadron, instead of keeping safe in Naupaktus, was moving in parallel line with them and watching their progress until they should get out of the Corinthian gulf into the more open sea. Having advanced along the northern coast of Peloponnesus as far as Patræ in Achaia, they then altered their course, and bore to the northwest in order to cross over towards the Ætolian coast, in their way to Akarnania. In doing this, however, they perceived that Phormio was bearing down upon them from Chalkis and the mouth of the river Euenus, and they now discovered for the first time that he was going to attack them. Disconcerted by this incident, and not inclined for a naval combat in the wide and open sea, they altered their plan of passage, returned to the coast of Peloponnesus, and brought to for the night at some point near to Rhium, the narrowest breadth of the strait. Their bringing to was a mere feint intended to deceive Phormio, and induce him to go back for the night to his own coast: for, during the course of the night, they left their station, and tried to get across the breadth of the gulf, where it was near the strait, and comparatively narrow, before Phormio could come down upon them: and if the Athenian captain had really gone back to take night-station on his own coast, they would probably have got across to the Ætolian or northern coast without any molestation in the wide sea: but he watched their movements closely, kept the sea all night, and was thus enabled to attack them in mid-channel, even during the shorter passage near the strait, at the first dawn of morning.[339] On seeing his approach, the Corinthian admirals ranged their triremes in a circle with the prows outward, like the spokes of a wheel; the circle was made as large as it could be without leaving opportunity to the Athenian assailing ships to practise the manœuvre of the diekplus,[340] and the interior space was sufficient, not merely for the store-vessels, but also for five chosen triremes, who were kept as a reserve, to dart out when required through the intervals between the outer triremes.
In this position they were found and attacked shortly after daybreak, by Phormio, who bore down upon them with his ships in single file, all admirable sailors, and his own ship leading; all being strictly forbidden to attack until he should give the signal. He rowed swiftly round the Peloponnesian circle, nearing the prows of their ships as closely as he could, and making constant semblance of being about to come to blows. Partly from the intimidating effect of this manœuvre, altogether novel to the Peloponnesians,—partly from the natural difficulty, well known to Phormio, of keeping every ship in its exact stationary position,—the order of the circle, both within and without, presently became disturbed. It was not long before a new ally came to his aid, on which he fully calculated, postponing his actual attack until this favorable incident occurred. The strong land-breeze out of the gulf of Corinth, always wont to begin shortly after daybreak, came down upon the Peloponnesian fleet with its usual vehemence, at a moment when the steadiness of their order was already somewhat giving way, and forced their ships more than ever out of proper relation one to the other. The triremes began to run foul of each other, or become entangled with the store-vessels: so that in every ship the men aboard were obliged to keep pushing off their neighbors on each side with poles,—not without loud clamor and mutual reproaches, which prevented both the orders of the captain, and the cheering sound or song whereby the keleustês animated the rowers and kept them to time, from being at all audible. Moreover, the fresh breeze had occasioned such a swell, that these rowers, unskilful under all circumstances, could not get their oars clear of the water, and the pilots thus lost all command over their vessels.[341] The critical moment was now come, and Phormio gave the signal for attack. He first drove against and disabled one of the admiral’s ships,—his comrades next assailed others with equal success,—so that the Peloponnesians, confounded and terrified, attempted hardly any resistance, but broke their order and sought safety in flight. They fled partly to Patræ, partly to Dymê, in Achaia, pursued by the Athenians; who, with scarcely the loss of a man, captured twelve triremes, took aboard and carried away almost the entire crews, and sailed off with them to Molykreium, or Antirrhium, the northern cape at the narrow mouth of the Corinthian gulf, opposite to the corresponding cape called Rhium in Achaia. Having erected at Antirrhium a trophy for the victory, dedicating one of the captive triremes to Poseidon, they returned to Naupaktus; while the Peloponnesian ships sailed along the shore from Patræ to Kyllênê, the principal port in the territory of Elis. They were here soon afterwards joined by Knêmus, who passed over with his squadron from Leukas.[342]
These two incidents, just recounted, with their details,—the repulse of Knêmus and his army from Stratus, and the defeat of the Peloponnesian fleet by Phormio,—afford ground for some interesting remarks. The first of the two displays the great inferiority of the Epirots to the Greeks,—and even to the less advanced portion of the Greeks,—in the qualities of order, discipline, steadiness, and power of coöperation for a joint purpose. Confidence of success with them is exaggerated into childish rashness, so that they despise even the commonest precautions either in march or attack; while the Greek divisions on their right and on their left are never so elate as to omit either. If, on land, we thus discover the inherent superiority of Greeks over Epirots involuntarily breaking out,—so in the sea-fight we are no less impressed with the astonishing superiority of the Athenians over their opponents; a superiority, indeed, noway inherent, such as that of Greeks over Epirots, but depending in this case on previous toil, training, and inventive talent, on the one side, compared with neglect and old-fashioned routine on the other. Nowhere does the extraordinary value of that seamanship, which the Athenians had been gaining by years of improved practice, stand so clearly marked as in these first battles of Phormio. It gradually becomes less conspicuous as we advance in the war, since the Peloponnesians improve, learning seamanship as the Russians, under Peter the Great, learned the art of war from the Swedes, under Charles the Twelfth,—while the Athenian triremes and their crews seem to become less choice and effective, even before the terrible disaster at Syracuse, and are irreparably deteriorated after that misfortune.
To none did the circumstances of this memorable sea-fight seem so incomprehensible as to the Lacedæmonians. They had heard, indeed, of the seamanship of Athens, but had never felt it, and could not understand what it meant: so they imputed the defeat to nothing but disgraceful cowardice, and sent indignant orders to Knêmus at Kyllênê, to take the command, equip a larger and better fleet, and repair the dishonor. Three Spartan commissioners—Brasidas, Timokratês, and Lykophron—were sent down to assist him with their advice and exertions in calling together naval contingents from the different allied cities: and by this means, under the general resentment occasioned by the recent defeat, a large fleet of seventy-seven triremes was speedily mustered at Panormus,—a harbor of Achaia near to the promontory of Rhium, and immediately within the interior gulf. A land-force was also collected at the same place ashore, to aid the operations of the fleet. Such preparations did not escape the vigilance of Phormio, who transmitted to Athens news of his victory, at the same time urgently soliciting reinforcements to contend with the increasing strength of the enemy. The Athenians immediately sent twenty fresh ships to join him: but they were induced by the instances of a Kretan named Nikias, their proxenus at Gortyn, to allow him to take the ships first to Krete, on the faith of his promise to reduce the hostile town of Kydonia. He had made this promise as a private favor to the inhabitants of Polichna, border enemies of Kydonia; but when the fleet arrived he was unable to fulfil it: nothing was effected except ravage of the Kydonian lands, and the fleet was long prevented by adverse winds and weather from getting away.[343] This ill-advised diversion of the fleet from its straight course to join Phormio is a proof how much the counsels of Athens were beginning to suffer from the loss of Periklês, who was just now in his last illness and died shortly afterwards. That liability to be seduced by novel enterprises and projects of acquisition, against which he so emphatically warned his countrymen,[344] was even now beginning to manifest its disastrous consequences.
Through the loss of this precious interval, Phormio now found himself, with no more than his original twenty triremes, opposed to the vastly increased forces of the enemy,—seventy-seven triremes, with a large force on land to back them: the latter, no mean help in ancient warfare. He took up his station near the Cape Antirrhium, or the Molykric Rhium, as it was called,—the opposite cape to the Achaic Rhium: the line between them, seemingly about an English mile in breadth, forms the entrance of the Corinthian gulf. The Messenian force from Naupaktus attended him, and served on land. But he kept on the outside of the gulf, anxious to fight in a large and open breadth of sea, which was essential to Athenian manœuvring: while his adversaries on their side remained on the inside of the Achaic cape, from the corresponding reason,—feeling that to them the narrow sea was advantageous, as making the naval battle like to a land battle, effacing all superiority of nautical skill.[345] If we revert back to the occasion of the battle of Salamis, we find that narrowness of space was at that time accounted the best of all protections for a smaller fleet against a larger. But such had been the complete change of feeling, occasioned by the system of manœuvring introduced since that period in the Athenian navy, that amplitude of sea room is now not less coveted by Phormio than dreaded by his enemies. The improved practice of Athens had introduced a revolution in naval warfare.
For six or seven days successively, the two fleets were drawn out against each other,—Phormio trying to entice the Peloponnesians to the outside of the gulf, while they on their side did what they could to bring him within it.[346] To him, every day’s postponement was gain, since it gave him a new chance of his reinforcements arriving: for that very reason, the Peloponnesian commanders were eager to accelerate an action, and at length resorted to a well-laid plan for forcing it on. But in spite of immense numerical superiority, such was the discouragement and reluctance, prevailing among their seamen, many of whom had been actual sufferers in the recent defeat,—that Knêmus and Brasidas had to employ emphatic exhortations; insisting on the favorable prospect before them,—pointing out that the late battle had been lost only by mismanagement and imprudence, which would be for the future corrected,—and appealing to the inherent bravery of the Peloponnesian warrior. They concluded by a hint, that while those who behaved well in the coming battle would receive due honor, the laggards would assuredly be punished:[347] a topic rarely touched upon by ancient generals in their harangues on the eve of battle, and demonstrating conspicuously the reluctance of many of the Peloponnesian seamen, who had been brought to the fight again chiefly by the ascendency and strenuous commands of Sparta. To this reluctance Phormio pointedly alluded, in the encouraging exhortations which he on his side addressed to his men: for they too, in spite of their habitual confidence at sea, strengthened by the recent victory, were dispirited by the smallness of their numbers. He reminded them of their long practice and rational conviction of superiority at sea, such as no augmentation of numbers, especially with an enemy conscious of his own weakness, could overbalance: and he called upon them to show their habitual discipline and quick apprehension of orders, and above all to perform their regular movements in perfect silence during the actual battle,[348]—useful in all matters of war, and essential to the proper conduct of a sea-fight. The idea of entire silence on board the Athenian ships while a sea-fight was going on, is not only striking as a feature in the picture, but is also one of the most powerful evidences of the force of self-control and military habits among these citizen-seamen.
The habitual position of the Peloponnesian fleet off Panormus was within the strait, but nearly fronting the breadth of it,—opposite to Phormio, who lay on the outer side of the strait, as well as off the opposite cape: in the Peloponnesian line, therefore, the right wing occupied the north, or northeast side towards Naupaktus. Knêmus and Brasidas now resolved to make a forward movement up the gulf, as if against that town, which was the main Athenian station; for they knew that Phormio would be under the necessity of coming to the defence of the place, and they hoped to pin him up and force him to action close under the land, where Athenian manœuvring would be unavailing. Accordingly, they commenced this movement early in the morning, sailing in line of four abreast towards the northern coast of the inner gulf; the right squadron, under the Lacedæmonian Timokratês, was in the van, according to its natural position,[349] and care had been taken to place in it twenty of the best sailing ships, since the success of the plan of action was known beforehand to depend upon their celerity. As they had foreseen, Phormio the moment he saw their movement, put his men on shipboard, and rowed into the interior of the strait, though with the greatest reluctance; for the Messenians were on land alongside of him, and he knew that Naupaktus, with their wives and families, and a long circuit of wall,[350] was utterly undefended. He ranged his ships in line of battle ahead, probably his own the leading ship; and sailed close along the land towards Naupaktus, while the Messenians marching ashore kept near to him. Both fleets were thus moving in the same direction, and towards the same point, the Athenian close along shore, the Peloponnesians somewhat farther off.[351] The latter had now got Phormio into the position which they wished, pinned up against the land, with no room for tactics. On a sudden the signal was given, and the whole Peloponnesian fleet facing to the left, changed from column into line, and instead of continuing to sail along the coast, rowed rapidly with their prows shore-ward to come to close quarters with the Athenians. The right squadron of the Peloponnesians occupying the side towards Naupaktus, was especially charged with the duty of cutting off the Athenians from all possibility of escaping thither; and the best ships had been placed on the right for that important object. As far as the commanders were concerned, the plan of action completely succeeded; the Athenians were caught in a situation where resistance was impossible, and had no chance of escape except in flight. But so superior were they in rapid movement even to the best Peloponnesians, that eleven ships, the headmost out of the twenty, just found means to run by,[352] before the right wing of the enemy closed in upon the shore; and made the best of their way to Naupaktus. The remaining nine ships were caught and driven ashore with serious damage,—their crews being partly slain, partly escaping by swimming. The Peloponnesians towed off one trireme with its entire crew, and some others empty; but more than one of them was rescued by the bravery of the Messenian hoplites, who, in spite of their heavy panoply, rushed into the water and got aboard them, fighting from the decks and driving off the enemy even after the rope had been actually made fast, and the process of dragging off had begun.[353]
The victory of the Peloponnesians seemed assured, and while their left and centre were thus occupied, the twenty ships of their right wing parted company with the rest, in order to pursue the eleven fugitive Athenian ships which they had failed in cutting off. Ten of these got clear away into the harbor of Naupaktus, and there posted themselves in an attitude of defence near the temple of Apollo, before any of the pursuers could come near; while the eleventh, somewhat less swift, was neared by the Lacedæmonian admiral; who, on board a Leukadian trireme, pushed greatly ahead of his comrades, in hopes of overtaking at least this one prey. There happened to lie moored a merchant vessel, at the entrance of the harbor of Naupaktus; and the Athenian captain in his flight, observing that the Leukadian pursuer was for the moment alone, seized the opportunity for a bold and rapid manœuvre. He pulled swiftly round the merchant vessel, directed his trireme so as to meet the advancing Leukadian, and drove his beak against her midships with an impact so violent as to disable her at once; her commander, the Lacedæmonian admiral, Timokratês, was so stung with anguish at this unexpected catastrophe, that he slew himself forthwith, and fell overboard into the harbor. The pursuing vessels coming up behind, too, were so astounded and dismayed by it, that the men, dropping their oars, held water, and ceased to advance; while some even found themselves half aground, from ignorance of the coast. On the other hand, the ten Athenian triremes in the harbor were beyond measure elated by the incident, so that a single word from Phormio sufficed to put them in active forward motion, and to make them strenuously attack the embarrassed enemy: whose ships, disordered by the heat of pursuit, and having been just suddenly stopped, could not be speedily got again under way, and expected nothing less than renewed attack. First, the Athenians broke the twenty pursuing ships, on the right wing; next, they pursued their advantage against the left and centre, who had probably neared to the right; so that after a short resistance, the whole were completely routed, and fled across the gulf to their original station at Panormus.[354] Not only did the eleven Athenian ships thus break, terrify, and drive away the entire fleet of the enemy, with the capture of six of the nearest Peloponnesian triremes,—but they also rescued those ships of their own which had been driven ashore and taken in the early part of the action: moreover, the Peloponnesian crews sustained a considerable loss, both in killed and in prisoners.
Thus, in spite not only of the prodigious disparity of numbers, but also of the disastrous blow which the Athenians had sustained at first, Phormio ended by gaining a complete victory; a victory, to which even the Lacedæmonians were forced to bear testimony, since they were obliged to ask a truce for burying and collecting their dead, while the Athenians on their part picked up the bodies of their own warriors. The defeated party, however, still thought themselves entitled, in token of their success in the early part of the action, to erect a trophy on the Rhium of Achaia, where they also dedicated the single Athenian trireme which they had been able to carry off. Yet they were so completely discomfited,—and farther, so much in fear of the expected reinforcement from Athens,—that they took advantage of the night to retire, and sail into the gulf to Corinth: all except the Leukadians, who returned to their own home.