So high did Demosthenês stand in the favor of his countrymen, after his brilliant successes in the Ambrakian gulf, that they granted him permission, at his own request, to go aboard and to employ the fleet in any descent which he might think expedient on the coast of Peloponnesus. The attachment of this active officer to the Messenians at Naupaktus, inspired him with the idea of planting a detachment of them on some well-chosen maritime post in the ancient Messenian territory, from whence they would be able permanently to harass the Lacedæmonians and provoke revolt among the Helots,—the more so, from their analogy of race and dialect. The Messenians, active in privateering, and doubtless well acquainted with the points of this coast, all of which had formerly belonged to their ancestors, had probably indicated to him Pylus, on the southwestern shore. That ancient and Homeric name was applied specially and properly to denote the promontory which forms the northern termination of the modern bay of Navarino, opposite to the island of Sphagia, or Sphakteria; though in vague language the whole neighboring district seems also to have been called Pylus. Accordingly, in circumnavigating Laconia, Demosthenês requested that the fleet might be detained at this spot long enough to enable him to fortify it, engaging himself to stay afterwards and maintain it with a garrison. It was an uninhabited promontory, about forty-five miles from Sparta; that is, as far distant as any portion of her territory, presenting rugged cliffs, and easy of defence both by sea and land: but its great additional recommendation, with reference to the maritime power of Athens, consisted in its overhanging the spacious and secure basin now called the bay of Navarino. That basin was fronted and protected by the islet called Sphakteria, or Sphagia, untrodden, untenanted, and full of wood, which stretched along the coast for about a mile and three quarters, leaving only two narrow entrances: one at its northern end, opposite to the position fixed on by Demosthenês, so confined as to admit only two triremes abreast,—the other at the southern end, about four times as broad; while the inner water approached by these two channels was both roomy and protected. It was on the coast of Peloponnesus, a little within the northern or narrowest of the two channels, that Demosthenês proposed to plant his little fort,—the ground being itself eminently favorable, and a spring of fresh water[504] in the centre of the promontory.[505]
But Eurymedon and Sophoklês decidedly rejected all proposition of delay; and with much reason, since they had been informed (though seemingly without truth) that the Peloponnesian fleet had actually reached Korkyra: they might well have remembered the mischief which had ensued three years before from the delay of the reinforcement sent to Phormio in some desultory operations on the coast of Krete. The fleet accordingly passed by Pylus without stopping: but a terrible storm drove them back and forced them to seek shelter in the very harbor which Demosthenês had fixed upon,—the only harbor anywhere near. That officer took advantage of this accident to renew his proposition, which however appeared to the commanders chimerical: there were plenty of desert capes round Peloponnesus, they said, if he chose to waste the resources of the city in occupying them,[506]—nor were they at all moved by his reasons in reply. Finding himself thus unsuccessful, Demosthenês presumed upon the undefined permission granted to him by the Athenian people, to address himself first to the soldiers, last of all to the taxiarchs, or inferior officers, and to persuade them to second his project, even against the will of the commanders. Much inconvenience might well have arisen from such clashing of authority: but it happened that both the soldiers and the taxiarchs took the same view of the case as their commanders, and refused compliance: nor can we be surprised at such reluctance, when we reflect upon the seeming improbability of being able to maintain such a post against the great real, and still greater supposed, superiority of Lacedæmonian land-force. It happened, however, that the fleet was detained there for some days by stormy weather; so that the soldiers, having nothing to do, were seized with the spontaneous impulse of occupying themselves with the fortification, and crowded around to execute it with all the emulation of eager volunteers. Having contemplated nothing of the kind on starting from Athens, they had neither tools for cutting stone, nor hods for carrying mortar:[507] accordingly, they were compelled to build their wall by collecting such pieces of rock or stones as they found, and putting them together as each happened to fit in: whenever mortar was needed, they brought it up on their backs bent inwards, with hands joined behind them to prevent it from slipping away. Such deficiencies were made up, however, partly by the unbounded ardor of the soldiers, partly by the natural difficulties of the ground, which hardly required fortification except at particular points; the work was completed in a rough way in six days, and Demosthenês was left in garrison with five ships, while Eurymedon with the main fleet sailed away to Korkyra. The crews of the five ships, two of which, however, were sent away to warn Eurymedon afterwards, would amount to about one thousand in all: but there presently arrived two armed Messenian privateers, from which Demosthenês obtained a reinforcement of forty Messenian hoplites, together with a supply of wicker shields, though more fit for show than for use, wherewith to arm his rowers. Altogether, it appears that he must have had about two hundred hoplites, besides the half-armed seamen.[508]
Intelligence of this attempt to plant, even upon the Lacedæmonian territory, the annoyance and insult of a hostile post, was soon transmitted to Sparta,—yet no immediate measures were taken to march to the spot; as well from the natural slowness of the Spartan character, strengthened by a festival which happened to be then going on, as from the confidence entertained that, whenever attacked, the expulsion of the enemy was certain. A stronger impression, however, was made by the news upon the Lacedæmonian army invading Attica, who were at the same time suffering from want of provisions, the corn not being yet ripe, and from an unusually cold spring: accordingly, Agis marched them back to Sparta, and the fortification of Pylus thus produced the effect of abridging the invasion to the unusually short period of fifteen days. It operated in like manner to the protection of Korkyra: for the Peloponnesian fleet, recently arrived thither, or still on its way, received orders immediately to return for the attack of Pylus. Having avoided the Athenian fleet by transporting the ships across the isthmus at Leukas, it reached Pylus about the same time as the Lacedæmonian land-force from Sparta, composed of the Spartans themselves and the neighboring Periœki: for the more distant Periœki, as well as the Peloponnesian allies, being just returned from Attica, were summoned to come as soon as they could, but did not accompany this first march.[509]
At the last moment, before the Peloponnesian fleet came in and occupied the harbor, Demosthenês detached two out of his five triremes to warn Eurymedon and the main fleet, and to entreat immediate succor: the remaining ships he hauled ashore under the fortification, protecting them by palisades planted in front, and preparing to defend himself in the best manner he could. Having posted the larger portion of his force,—some of them mere seamen without arms, and many only half-armed,—round the assailable points of the fortification, to resist attacks from the land-force, he himself, with sixty chosen hoplites and a few bowmen, marched out of the fortification down to the sea-shore. It was on that side that the wall was weakest, for the Athenians, confident in their naval superiority, had given themselves little trouble to provide against an assailant fleet. Accordingly, Demosthenês foresaw that the great stress of the attack would lie on the sea-side, and his only chance of safety consisted in preventing the enemy from landing; a purpose, seconded by the rocky and perilous shore, which left no possibility of approach for ships, except on a narrow space immediately under the fortification. It was here that he took post, on the water’s edge, addressing a few words of encouragement to his men, and warning them that it was useless now to display acuteness in summing up perils which were but too obvious,—and that the only chance of escape lay in boldly encountering the enemy before they could set foot ashore; the difficulty of effecting a landing from ships in the face of resistance being better known to Athenian mariners than to any one else.[510]
With a fleet of forty-three triremes, under Thrasymelidas, and a powerful land-force, simultaneously attacking, the Lacedæmonians had good hopes of storming at once a rock so hastily converted into a military post. But as they foresaw that the first attack might possibly fail, and that the fleet of Eurymedon would probably return, they resolved to occupy forthwith the island of Sphakteria, the natural place where the Athenian fleet would take station for the purpose of assisting the garrison ashore. The neighboring coast on the mainland of Peloponnesus was both harborless and hostile, so that there was no other spot near, where they could take station. And the Lacedæmonian commanders reckoned upon being able to stop up, as it were mechanically, both the two entrances into the harbor, by triremes lashed together, from the island to the mainland, with their prows pointing outwards; so that they would be able at any rate, occupying the island as well as the two channels, to keep off the Athenian fleet, and to hold Demosthenês closely blocked up[511] on the rock of Pylus, where his provisions would quickly fail him. With these views, they drafted off by lot some hoplites from each of the Spartan lochi, accompanied as usual by Helots, and sent them across to Sphakteria; while their land-force and their fleet approached at once to attack the fortification.
Of the assault on the land-side, we hear little: the Lacedæmonians were proverbially unskilful in the attack of anything like a fortified place, and they appear now to have made little impression. But the chief stress and vigor of the attack came on the sea-side, as Demosthenês had foreseen. The landing-place, even where practicable, was still rocky and difficult,—and so narrow in dimensions, that the Lacedæmonian ships could only approach by small squadrons at a time; while the Athenians maintained their ground firmly to prevent a single man from setting foot on land. The assailing triremes rowed up with loud shouts and exhortations to each other, striving to get so placed as that the hoplites in the bow could effect a landing: but such were the difficulties arising partly from the rocks and partly from the defence, that squadron after squadron tried this in vain. Nor did even the gallant example of Brasidas procure for them any better success. That officer, commanding a trireme, and observing that some of the pilots near him were cautious in driving their ships close in shore for fear of breaking them against the rocks, indignantly called to them not to spare the planks of their vessels, when the enemy had insulted them by erecting a fort in the country: Lacedæmonians, he exclaimed, ought to carry the landing by force, even though their ships should be dashed to pieces,—nor ought the Peloponnesian allies to be backward in sacrificing their ships for Sparta, in return for the many services which she had rendered to them.[512] Foremost in performance as well as in exhortation, Brasidas constrained his own pilot to drive his ship close in, and advanced in person even on to the landing-steps for the purpose of leaping first ashore. But here he stood exposed to all the weapons of the Athenian defenders, who beat him back and pierced him with so many wounds, that he fainted away, and fell back into the bows, or foremost part of the trireme, beyond the rowers; while his shield, slipping away from the arm, dropped down and rolled overboard into the sea. His ship was obliged to retire, like the rest, without having effected any landing: and all these successive attacks from the sea, repeated for one whole day and a part of the next were repulsed by Demosthenês and his little band with victorious bravery. To both sides it seemed a strange reversal of ordinary relations,[513] that the Athenians, essentially maritime, should be fighting on land—and that, too, Lacedæmonian land—against the Lacedæmonians, the select land-warriors of Greece, now on shipboard, and striving in vain to compass a landing on their own shore. The Athenians, in honor of their success, erected a trophy, the chief ornament of which was the shield of Brasidas, which had been cast ashore by the water.
On the third day, the Lacedæmonians did not repeat their attack, but sent some of their vessels round to Asinê, in the Messenian gulf, for timber to construct battering machines; which they intended to employ against the wall of Demosthenês, on the side towards the harbor, where it was higher, and could not be assailed without machines, but where, at the same time, there was great facility in landing,—for their previous attack had been made on the side fronting the sea, where the wall was lower, but the difficulties of landing insuperable.[514] But before these ships came back, the face of affairs was seriously changed by the unwelcome return of the Athenian fleet from Zakynthus, under Eurymedon, reinforced by four Chian ships, and some of the guard-ships at Naupaktus, so as now to muster fifty sail. The Athenian admiral, finding the enemy’s fleet in possession of the harbor, and seeing both the island of Sphakteria occupied, and the opposite shore covered with Lacedæmonian hoplites,[515]—for the allies from all parts of Peloponnesus had now arrived,—looked around in vain for a place to land, and could find no other night-station except the uninhabited island of Prôtê, not very far distant. From hence he sailed forth in the morning to Pylus, prepared for a naval engagement,—hoping that perhaps the Lacedæmonians might come out to fight him in the open sea, but resolved, if this did not happen, to force his way in and attack the fleet in the harbor; the breadth of sea between Sphakteria and the mainland being sufficient to admit of nautical manœuvre.[516] The Lacedæmonian admirals, seemingly confounded by the speed of the Athenian fleet in coming back, never thought of sailing out of the harbor to fight, nor did they even realize their scheme of blocking up the two entrances of the harbor with triremes closely lashed together. Both entrances were left open, though they determined to defend themselves within: but even here, so defective were their precautions, that several of their triremes were yet moored, and the rowers not fully aboard, when the Athenian admirals sailed in by both entrances at once to attack them. Most of the Lacedæmonian triremes, afloat, and in fighting trim, resisted the attack for a certain time, but were at length vanquished, and driven back to the shore, many of them with serious injury.[517] Five of them were captured and towed off, one with all her crew aboard, and the Athenians, vigorously pursuing their success, drove against such as took refuge on the shore, as well as those which were not manned at the moment when the attack began, and had not been able to get afloat or into action. Some of the vanquished triremes being deserted by their crews, who jumped out upon the land, the Athenians were proceeding to tow them off, when the Lacedæmonian hoplites on the shore opposed a new and strenuous resistance. Excited to the utmost pitch by witnessing the disgraceful defeat of their fleet, and aware of the cruel consequences which turned upon it,—they marched all armed into the water, seized the ships to prevent them from being dragged off, and engaged in a desperate conflict to baffle the assailants: we have already seen a similar act of bravery, two years before, on the part of the Messenian hoplites accompanying the fleet of Phormio near Naupaktus.[518] Extraordinary daring and valor was here displayed on both sides, in the attack as well as in the defence, and such was the clamor and confusion, that neither the land skill of the Lacedæmonians, nor the sea skill of the Athenians, were of much avail: the contest was one of personal valor and considerable suffering on both sides. At length the Lacedæmonians carried their point, and saved all the ships ashore; none being carried away except those at first captured. Both parties thus separated: the Athenians retired to the fortress at Pylus, where they were doubtless hailed with overflowing joy by their comrades, and where they erected a trophy for their victory, giving up the enemy’s dead for burial, and picking up the floating wrecks and pieces.[519]
But the great prize of the victory was neither in the five ships captured, nor in the relief afforded to the besieged at Pylus. It lay in the hoplites occupying the island of Sphakteria, who were now cut off from the mainland, as well as from all supplies. The Athenians, sailing round it in triumph, already looked upon them as their prisoners; while the Lacedæmonians on the opposite mainland, deeply distressed, but not knowing what to do, sent to Sparta for advice. So grave was the emergency, that the ephors came in person to the spot forthwith. Since they could still muster sixty triremes, a greater number than the Athenians,—besides a large force on land, and the whole command of the resources of the country,—while the Athenians had no footing on shore except the contracted promontory of Pylus, we might have imagined that a strenuous effort to carry off the imprisoned detachment across the narrow strait to the mainland would have had a fair chance of success. And probably, if either Demosthenês or Brasidas had been in command, such an effort would have been made. But Lacedæmonian courage was rather steadfast and unyielding than adventurous: and, moreover, the Athenian superiority at sea exercised a sort of fascination over men’s minds, analogous to that of the Spartans themselves on land; so that the ephors, on reaching Pylus, took a desponding view of their position, and sent a herald to the Athenian generals to propose an armistice, in order to allow time for envoys to go to Athens and treat for peace.
To this Eurymedon and Demosthenês assented, and an armistice was concluded on the following terms: The Lacedæmonians agreed to surrender not only all their triremes now in the harbor, but also all the rest in their ports, altogether to the number of sixty; also, to abstain from all attack upon the fortress at Pylus, either by land or sea, for such time as should be necessary for the mission of envoys to Athens as well as for their return, both to be effected in an Athenian trireme provided for the purpose. The Athenians on their side engaged to desist from all hostilities during the like interval; but it was agreed that they should keep strict and unremitting watch over the island, yet without landing upon it. For the subsistence of the detachment in the island, the Lacedæmonians were permitted to send over every day two chœnikes of barley-meal in cakes, ready baked, two kotylæ of wine,[520] and some meat, for each hoplite,—together with half that quantity for each of the attendant Helots; but this was all to be done under the supervision of the Athenians, with peremptory obligation to send no secret additional supplies. It was, moreover, expressly stipulated that if any one provision of the armistice, small or great, were violated, the whole should be considered as null and void. Lastly, the Athenians engaged, on the return of the envoys from Athens, to restore the triremes in the same condition as they received them.
Such terms sufficiently attest the humiliation and anxiety of the Lacedæmonians; while the surrender of their entire naval force to the number of sixty triremes, which was forthwith carried into effect, demonstrates at the same time that they sincerely believed in the possibility of obtaining peace. Well aware that they were themselves the original beginners of the war, at a time when the Athenians desired peace, and that the latter had besides made fruitless overtures while under the pressure of the epidemic, they presumed that the same dispositions still prevailed at Athens, and that their present pacific wishes would be so gladly welcomed as to procure without difficulty the relinquishment of the prisoners in Sphakteria.[521]