Nearly five years had elapsed since the defeat of Kleon, without any fresh attempt to recover Amphipolis: the project just alluded to appears to have been the first. The proceedings of the Athenians with regard to this important town afford ample proof of that want of wisdom on the part of their leading men Nikias and Alkibiades, and of erroneous tendencies on the part of the body of the citizens, which we shall gradually find conducting their empire to ruin. Among all their possessions out of Attica, there was none so valuable as Amphipolis: the centre of a great commercial and mining region, situated on a large river and lake which the Athenian navy could readily command, and claimed by them with reasonable justice, since it was their original colony, planted by their wisest statesman, Periklês. It had been lost only through unpardonable negligence on the part of their generals; and when lost, we should have expected to see the chief energies of Athens directed to the recovery of it; the more so, as, if once recovered, it admitted of being made sure and retained as a future possession. Kleon is the only leading man who at once proclaims to his countrymen the important truth that it never can be recovered except by force. He strenuously urges his countrymen to make the requisite military effort, and prevails upon them in part to do so, but the attempt disgracefully fails; partly through his own incompetence as commander, whether his undertaking of that duty was a matter of choice or of constraint, partly through the strong opposition and antipathy against him from so large a portion of his fellow-citizens, which rendered the military force not hearty in the enterprise. Next, Nikias, Lachês, and Alkibiadês, all concur in making peace and alliance with the Lacedæmonians, with express promise and purpose to procure the restoration of Amphipolis. But after a series of diplomatic proceedings, which display as much silly credulity in Nikias as selfish deceit in Alkibiadês, the result becomes evident, as Kleon had insisted, that peace will not restore to them Amphipolis, and that it can only be regained by force. The fatal defect of Nikias is now conspicuously seen: his inertness of character and incapacity of decided or energetic effort. When he discovered that he had been out-manœuvred by the Lacedæmonian diplomacy, and had fatally misadvised his countrymen into making important cessions on the faith of equivalents to come, we might have expected to find him spurred on by indignant repentance for this mistake, and putting forth his own strongest efforts, as well as those of his country, in order to recover those portions of her empire which the peace had promised, but did not restore. Instead of which he exhibits no effective movement, while Alkibiadês begins to display the defects of his political character, yet more dangerous than those of Nikias, the passion for showy, precarious, boundless, and even perilous novelties. It is only in the year 417 B.C., after the defeat of Mantineia had put an end to the political speculations of Alkibiadês in the interior of Peloponnesus, that Nikias projects an expedition against Amphipolis; and even then it is projected only contingent upon the aid of Perdikkas, a prince of notorious perfidy. It was not by any half-exertions of force that the place could be regained, as the defeat of Kleon had sufficiently proved. We obtain from these proceedings a fair measure of the foreign politics of Athens at this time, during what is called the Peace of Nikias, preparing us for that melancholy catastrophe which will be developed in the coming chapters, where she is brought near to ruin by the defects of Nikias and Alkibiadês combined for, by singular misfortune, she does not reap the benefit of the good qualities of either.
It was in one of the three years between 420-416 B.C., though we do not know in which, that the vote of ostracism took place, arising out of the contention between Nikias and Alkibiadês.[156] The political antipathy between the two having reached a point of great violence, it was proposed that a vote of ostracism should be taken, and this proposition—probably made by the partisans of Nikias, since Alkibiadês was the person most likely to be reputed dangerous—was adopted by the people. Hyperbolus the lamp-maker, son of Cheremês, a speaker of considerable influence in the public assembly, strenuously supported it, hating Nikias not less than Alkibiadês. Hyperbolus is named by Aristophanês as having succeeded Kleon in the mastership of the rostrum in the Pnyx:[157] if this were true, his supposed demagogic preëminence would commence about September 422 B.C., the period of the death of Kleon. Long before that time, however, he had been among the chief butts of the comic authors, who ascribe to him the same baseness, dishonesty, impudence, and malignity in accusation, as that which they fasten upon Kleon, though in language which seems to imply an inferior idea of his power. And it may be doubted whether Hyperbolus ever succeeded to the same influence as had been enjoyed by Kleon, when we observe that Thucydidês does not name him in any of the important debates which took place at and after the Peace of Nikias. Thucydidês only mentions him once, in 411 B.C., while he was in banishment under sentence of ostracism, and resident at Samos. He terms him, “one Hyperbolus, a low busy-body, who had been ostracized, not from fear of dangerous excess of dignity and power, but through his wickedness and his being felt as a disgrace to the city.”[158] This sentence of Thucydidês is really the only evidence against Hyperbolus: for it is not less unjust in his case than in that of Kleon to cite the jests and libels of comedy as if they were so much authentic fact and trustworthy criticism. It was at Samos that Hyperbolus was slain by the oligarchical conspirators who were aiming to overthrow the democracy at Athens. We have no particular facts respecting him to enable us to test the general character given by Thucydidês.
At the time when the resolution was adopted at Athens, to take a vote of ostracism suggested by the political dissension between Nikias and Alkibiadês, about twenty-four years had elapsed since a similar vote had been resorted to; the last example having been that of Periklês and Thucydidês son of Melêsius, the latter of whom was ostracized about 442 B.C. The democratical constitution had become sufficiently confirmed to lessen materially the necessity for ostracism as a safeguard against individual usurpers: moreover, there was now full confidence in the numerous dikasteries as competent to deal with the greatest of such criminals, thus abating the necessity as conceived in men’s minds, not less than the real necessity, for such precautionary intervention. Under such a state of things, altered reality as well as altered feeling, we are not surprised to find that the vote of ostracism now invoked, though we do not know the circumstances which immediately preceded it, ended in an abuse, or rather in a sort of parody, of the ancient preventive. At a moment of extreme heat of party dispute, the friends of Alkibiadês probably accepted the challenge of Nikias and concurred in supporting a vote of ostracism; each hoping to get rid of the opponent. The vote was accordingly decreed, but before it actually took place, the partisans of both changed their views, and preferred to let the political dissension proceed without closing it by separating the combatants. But the ostracizing vote, having been formally pronounced, could not now be prevented from taking place: it was always, however, perfectly general in its form, admitting of any citizen being selected for temporary banishment. Accordingly, the two opposing parties, each doubtless including various clubs, or hetæries, and according to some accounts the friends of Phæax also, united to turn the vote against some one else: and they fixed upon a man whom all of them jointly disliked, Hyperbolus.[159] By thus concurring, they obtained a sufficient number of votes against him to pass the sentence, and he was sent into temporary banishment. But such a result was in no one’s contemplation when the vote was decreed to take place, and Plutarch even represents the people as clapping their hands at it as a good joke. It was presently recognized by every one, seemingly even by the enemies of Hyperbolus, as a gross abuse of the ostracism. And the language of Thucydidês himself distinctly implies this; for if we even grant that Hyperbolus fully deserved the censure which that historian bestows, no one could treat his presence as dangerous to the commonwealth; nor was the ostracism introduced to meet low dishonesty or wickedness. It was, even before, passing out of the political morality of Athens; and this sentence consummated its extinction, so that we never hear of it as employed afterwards. It had been extremely valuable in earlier days, as a security to the growing democracy against individual usurpation of power, and against dangerous exaggeration of rivalry between individual leaders: but the democracy was now strong enough to dispense with such exceptional protection. Yet if Alkibiadês had returned as victor from Syracuse, it is highly probable that the Athenians would have had no other means than the precautionary antidote of ostracism to save themselves from him as despot.
It was in the beginning of summer (416 B.C.) that the Athenians undertook the siege and conquest of the Dorian island of Mêlos, one of the Cyclades, and the only one, except Thêra, which was not already included in their empire. Mêlos and Thêra were both ancient colonies of Lacedæmon, with whom they had strong sympathies of lineage. They had never joined the confederacy of Delos, nor been in any way connected with Athens; but at the same time, neither had they ever taken part in the recent war against her, nor given her any ground of complaint,[160] until she landed and attacked them in the sixth year of the recent war. She now renewed her attempt, sending against the island a considerable force under Kleomêdês and Tisias: thirty Athenian triremes, with six Chian and two Lesbian, twelve hundred Athenian hoplites, and fifteen hundred hoplites from the allies, with three hundred bowmen and twenty horse-bowmen. These officers, after disembarking their forces, and taking position, sent envoys into the city summoning the government to surrender, and to become a subject-ally of Athens.
It was a practice, frequent, if not universal, in Greece, even in governments not professedly democratical—to discuss propositions for peace or war before the assembly of the people. But on the present occasion the Melian leaders departed from this practice, and admitted the envoys only to a private conversation with their executive council. Of this conversation Thucydidês professes to give a detailed and elaborate account, at surprising length, considering his general brevity. He sets down thirteen distinct observations, with as many replies, interchanged between the Athenian envoys and the Melians; no one of them separately long, and some very short; but the dialogue carried on is dramatic, and very impressive. There is, indeed, every reason for concluding that what we here read in Thucydidês is in far larger proportion his own and in smaller proportion authentic report, than any of the other speeches which he professes to set down. For this was not a public harangue, in respect to which he might have had the opportunity of consulting the recollection of many different persons: it was a private conversation, wherein three or four Athenians, and perhaps ten or a dozen Melians, may have taken part. Now as all the Melian population were slain immediately after the capture of the town, there remained only the Athenian envoys through whose report Thucydidês could possibly have heard what really passed. That he did hear either from or through them the general character of what passed, I make no doubt: but there is no ground for believing that he received from them anything like the consecutive stream of debate, which, together with part of the illustrative reasoning, we must refer to his dramatic genius and arrangement.
The Athenian begins by restricting the subject of discussion to the mutual interests of both parties in the peculiar circumstances in which they now stand, in spite of the disposition of the Melians to enlarge the range of topics, by introducing considerations of justice and appealing to the sentiment of impartial critics. He will not multiply words to demonstrate the just origin of the Athenian empire, erected on the expulsion of the Persians, or to set forth injury suffered, as pretext for the present expedition. Nor will he listen to any plea on the part of the Melians, that they, though colonists of Sparta, have never fought alongside of her or done Athens wrong. He presses upon them to aim at what is attainable under existing circumstances, since they know as well as he that justice in the reasoning of mankind is settled according to equal compulsion on both sides; the strong doing what their power allows, and the weak submitting to it.[161] To this the Melians reply, that—omitting all appeal to justice, and speaking only of what was expedient—they hold it to be even expedient for Athens not to break down the common moral sanction of mankind, but to permit that equity and justice shall still remain as a refuge for men in trouble, with some indulgence even towards those who may be unable to make out a case of full and strict right. Most of all was this the interest of Athens herself, inasmuch as her ruin, if it ever occurred, would be awful both as punishment to herself and as lesson to others.—“We are not afraid of that (rejoined the Athenian) even if our empire should be overthrown. It is not imperial cities like Sparta who deal harshly with the conquered. Moreover, our present contest is not undertaken against Sparta; it is a contest to determine whether subjects shall by their own attack prevail over their rulers. This is a risk for us to judge of: in the mean time, let us remind you that we come here for the advantage of our own empire, and that we are now speaking with a view to your safety; wishing to get you under our empire without trouble to ourselves, and to preserve you for the mutual benefit of both of us.”—“Cannot you leave us alone, and let us be your friends instead of enemies, but neither allies of you nor of Sparta?” said the Melians.—“No (is the reply); your friendship does us more harm than your enmity: your friendship is a proof of our weakness, in the eyes of our subject-allies; your enmity will give a demonstration of our power.”—“But do your subjects really take such a measure of equity, as to put us, who have no sort of connection with you, on the same footing with themselves, most of whom are your own colonists, while many of them have even revolted from you and been reconquered?”—“They do: for they think that both one and the other have fair ground for claiming independence, and that if you are left independent, this arises only from your power and from our fear to attack you. So that your submission will not only enlarge our empire, but strengthen our security throughout the whole; especially as you are islanders, and feeble islanders too, while we are lords of the sea.”—“But surely that very circumstance is in other ways a protection to you, as evincing your moderation: for if you attack us, you will at once alarm all neutrals, and convert them into enemies.”—“We are in little fear of continental cities, who are out of our reach and not likely to take part against us, but only of islanders; either yet unincorporated in our empire, like you, or already in our empire and discontented with the constraint which it imposes. It is such islanders who by their ill-judged obstinacy are likely, with their eyes open, to bring both us and themselves into peril.”—“We know well (said the Melians, after some other observations had been interchanged) how terrible it is to contend against your superior power, and your good fortune; nevertheless, we trust that in point of fortune we shall receive fair treatment from the gods, since we stand upon grounds of right against injustice; and as to our inferior power, we trust that the deficiency will be made up by our ally Sparta, whose kindred race will compel her from very shame to aid us.”—“We too (replied the Athenians) think that we shall not be worse off than others in regard to the divine favor. For we neither advance any claim, nor do any act, overpassing that which men believe in regard to the gods, and wish in regard to themselves. What we believe about the gods is the same as that which we see to be the practice of men: the impulse of nature inclines them of necessity to rule over what is inferior in force to themselves. This is the principle on which we now proceed,—not having been the first either to lay it down or to follow it, but finding it established and likely to continue for ever,—and knowing well too that you or others in our position would do as much. As for your expectations from the Lacedæmonians, founded on the disgrace of their remaining deaf to your call, we congratulate you indeed on your innocent simplicity, but we at the same time deprecate such foolishness. For the Lacedæmonians are indeed most studious of excellence in regard to themselves and their own national customs. But looking at their behavior towards others, we affirm roundly, and can prove by many examples of their history, that they are of all men the most conspicuous in construing what is pleasing as if it were honorable, and what is expedient as if it were just. Now that is not the state of mind which you require, to square with your desperate calculations of safety.”
After various other observations interchanged in a similar tenor, the Athenian envoys, strenuously urging upon the Melians to reconsider the matter more cautiously among themselves, withdrew, and after a certain interval were recalled by the Melian council to hear the following words: “We hold to the same opinion, as at first, men of Athens: we shall not surrender the independence of a city which has already stood for seven hundred years; we shall yet make an effort to save ourselves, relying on that favorable fortune which the gods have hitherto vouchsafed to us, as well as upon aid from men, and especially from the Lacedæmonians. We request that we may be considered as your friends, but as hostile to neither party, and that you will leave the island after concluding such a truce as may be mutually acceptable.”—“Well (said the Athenian envoys), you alone seem to consider future contingencies as clearer than the facts before your eyes, and to look at an uncertain distance, through your own wishes, as if it were present reality. You have staked your all upon the Lacedæmonians, upon fortune, and upon fond hopes; and, with your all, you will come to ruin.”
The siege was forthwith commenced. A wall of circumvallation, distributed in portions among the different allies of Athens, was constructed round the town; which was left under full blockade, both by sea and land, while the rest of the armament retired home. The town remained blocked up for several months. During the course of that time, the besieged made two successful sallies, which afforded them some temporary relief, and forced the Athenians to send an additional detachment, under Philokratês. At length the provisions within were exhausted; plots for betrayal commenced among the Melians themselves, so that they were constrained to surrender at discretion. The Athenians resolved to put to death all the men of military age and to sell the women and children as slaves. Who the proposer of this barbarous resolution was, Thucydidês does not say; but Plutarch and others inform us that Alkibiadês[162] was strenuous in supporting it. Five hundred Athenian settlers were subsequently sent thither, to form a new community: apparently not as kleruchs, or out-citizens of Athens, but as new Melians.[163]
Taking the proceedings of the Athenians towards Mêlos from the beginning to the end, they form one of the grossest and most inexcusable pieces of cruelty combined with injustice which Grecian history presents to us. In appreciating the cruelty of such wholesale executions, we ought to recollect that the laws of war placed the prisoner altogether at the disposal of his conqueror, and that an Athenian garrison, if captured by the Corinthians in Naupaktus, Nisæa, or elsewhere, would assuredly have undergone the same fate, unless in so far as they might be kept for exchange. But the treatment of the Melians goes beyond all rigor of the laws of war; for they had never been at war with Athens, nor had they done anything to incur her enmity. Moreover, the acquisition of the island was of no material value to Athens; not sufficient to pay the expenses of the armament employed in its capture. And while the gain was thus in every sense slender, the shock to Grecian feeling by the whole proceeding seems to have occasioned serious mischief to Athens. Far from tending to strengthen her entire empire, by sweeping in this small insular population, who had hitherto been neutral and harmless, it raised nothing but odium against her, and was treasured up in after times as among the first of her misdeeds.
To gratify her pride of empire by a new conquest—easy to effect, though of small value—was doubtless her chief motive; probably also strengthened by pique against Sparta, between whom and herself a thoroughly hostile feeling subsisted, and by a desire to humiliate Sparta through the Melians. This passion for new acquisition, superseding the more reasonable hopes of recovering the lost portions of her empire, will be seen in the coming chapters breaking out with still more fatal predominance.