On the return of the deputation with these fresh assurances, the oligarchical men in Samos came together, both in greater number and with redoubled ardor, to take their measures for subverting the democracy. They even ventured to speak of the project openly among the mass of the armament, who listened to it with nothing but aversion, but who were silenced at least, though not satisfied, by being told that the Persian treasury would be thrown open to them on condition, and only on condition, that they would relinquish their democracy. Such was at this time the indispensable need of foreign money for the purposes of the war, such was the certainty of ruin, if the Persian treasure went to the aid of the enemy, that the most democratical Athenian might well hesitate when the alternative was thus laid before him. The oligarchical conspirators, however, knew well that they had the feeling of the armament altogether against them, that the best which they could expect from it was a reluctant acquiescence, and that they must accomplish the revolution by their own hands and management. They formed themselves into a political confederacy, or hetæria, for the purpose of discussing the best measures towards their end. It was resolved to send a deputation to Athens, with Peisander[11] at the head, to make known the new prospects, and to put the standing oligarchical clubs, or hetæries, into active coöperation for the purpose of violently breaking up the democracy, and farther to establish oligarchical governments in all the remaining dependencies of Athens. They imagined that these dependencies would be thus induced to remain faithful to her, perhaps even that some of those which had already revolted might come back to their allegiance, when once she should be relieved from her democracy, and placed under the rule of her “best and most virtuous citizens.”
Hitherto, the bargain tendered for acceptance had been, subversion of the Athenian democracy and restoration of Alkibiadês, on one hand, against hearty coöperation, and a free supply of gold from Persia, on the other. But what security was there that such bargain would be realized, or that when the first part should have been brought to pass, the second would follow? There was absolutely no security except the word of Alkibiadês,—very little to be trusted, even when promising what was in his own power to perform, as we may recollect from his memorable dealing with the Lacedæmonian envoys at Athens,—and on the present occasion, vouching for something in itself extravagant and preposterous. For what reasonable motive could be imagined to make the Great King shape his foreign policy according to the interests of Alkibiadês, or to inspire him with such lively interest in the substitution of oligarchy for democracy at Athens? This was a question which the oligarchical conspirators at Samos not only never troubled themselves to raise, but which they had every motive to suppress. The suggestion of Alkibiadês coincided fully with their political interest and ambition. Their object was to put down the democracy, and get possession of the government for themselves; and the promise of Persian gold, if they could get it accredited, was inestimable as a stepping-stone towards this goal, whether it afterwards turned out to be a delusion or not. The probability is, that having a strong interest in believing it themselves, and a still stronger interest in making others believe it, they talked each other into a sincere persuasion. Without adverting to this fact, we should be at a loss to understand how the word of such a man as Alkibiadês, on such a matter, could be so implicitly accepted as to set in motion a whole train of novel and momentous events.
There was one man, and one man alone, so far as we know, who ventured openly to call it in question. This was Phrynichus, one of the generals of the fleet, who had recently given valuable counsel after the victory of Milêtus; a clear-sighted and sagacious man, but personally hostile to Alkibiadês, and thoroughly seeing through his character and projects. Though Phrynichus was afterwards one of the chief organizers of the oligarchical movement, when it became detached from, and hostile to Alkibiadês, yet under the actual circumstances he discountenanced it altogether.[12] Alkibiadês, he said, had no attachment to oligarchical government rather than to democratical; nor could he be relied on for standing by it after it should have been set up. His only purpose was, to make use of the oligarchical conspiracy now forming, for his own restoration; which, if brought to pass, could not fail to introduce political discord into the camp, the greatest misfortune that could at present happen. As to the Persian king, it was unreasonable to expect that he would put himself out of his way to aid the Athenians, his old enemies, in whom he had no confidence, while he had the Peloponnesians present as allies, with a good naval force and powerful cities in his own territory, from whom he had never experienced either insult or annoyance. Moreover, the dependencies of Athens—upon whom it was now proposed to confer simultaneously with Athens herself, the blessing of oligarchical government—would receive that boon with indifference. Those who had already revolted would not come back, those who yet remained faithful, would not be the more inclined to remain so longer. Their object would be to obtain autonomy, either under oligarchy or democracy, as the case might be. Assuredly, they would not expect better treatment from an oligarchical government at Athens, than from a democratical; for they knew that those self-styled “good and virtuous” men, who would form the oligarchy, were, as ministers of democracy, the chief advisers and instigators of the people to iniquitous deeds, most commonly for nothing but their own individual profit. From an Athenian oligarchy, the citizens of these dependencies had nothing to expect but violent executions without any judicial trial; but under the democracy, they could obtain shelter and the means of appeal, while their persecutors were liable to restraint and chastisement, from the people and the popular dikasteries. Such, Phrynichus affirmed on his own personal knowledge, was the genuine feeling among the dependencies of Athens.[13] Having thus shown the calculations of the conspirators—as to Alkibiadês, as to Persia, and as to the allied dependencies—to be all illusory, Phrynichus concluded by entering his decided protest against adopting the propositions of Alkibiadês.
But in this protest, borne out afterwards by the result, he stood nearly alone. The tide of opinion, among the oligarchical conspirators, ran so furiously the other way, that it was resolved to despatch Peisander and others immediately to Athens to consummate the oligarchical revolution as well as the recall of Alkibiadês; and at the same time to propose to the people their new intended ally, Tissaphernês.
Phrynichus knew well what would be the consequence to himself—if this consummation were brought about, as he foresaw that it probably would be—from the vengeance of his enemy Alkibiadês against his recent opposition. Satisfied that the latter would destroy him, he took measures for destroying Alkibiadês beforehand, even by a treasonable communication to the Lacedæmonian admiral Astyochus at Milêtus, to whom he sent a secret account of the intrigues which the Athenian exile was carrying on at Samos to the prejudice of the Peloponnesians, prefaced with an awkward apology for this sacrifice of the interests of his country to the necessity of protecting himself against a personal enemy. But Phrynichus was imperfectly informed of the real character of the Spartan commander, or of his relations with Tissaphernês and Alkibiadês. Not merely was the latter now at Magnesia, under the protection of the satrap, and out of the power of the Lacedæmonians, but Astyochus, a traitor to his duty through the gold of Tissaphernês, went up thither to show the letter of Phrynichus to the very person whom it was intended to expose. Alkibiadês forthwith sent intelligence to the generals and officers at Samos, of the step taken by Phrynichus, and pressed them to put him to death.
The life of Phrynichus now hung by a thread, and was probably preserved only by that respect for judicial formalities so deeply rooted in the Athenian character. In the extremity of danger, he resorted to a still more subtle artifice to save himself. He despatched a second letter to Astyochus, complaining of the violation of confidence in regard to the former, but at the same time intimating that he was now willing to betray to the Lacedæmonians the camp and armament at Samos. He invited Astyochus to come and attack the place, which was as yet unfortified, explaining minutely in what manner the attack could be best conducted. And he concluded by saying that this, as well as every other means of defence, must be pardoned to one whose life was in danger from a personal enemy. Foreseeing that Astyochus would betray this letter as he had betrayed the former, Phrynichus waited a proper time, and then revealed to the camp the intention of the enemy to make an attack, as if it had reached him by private information. He insisted on the necessity of immediate precautions, and himself, as general, superintended the work of fortification, which was soon completed. Presently arrived a letter from Alkibiadês, communicating to the army that Phrynichus had betrayed them, and that the Peloponnesians were on the point of making an attack. But this letter, arriving after the precautions taken by order of Phrynichus himself had been already completed, was construed as a mere trick on the part of Alkibiadês himself, through his acquaintance with the intentions of the Peloponnesians, to raise a charge of treasonable correspondence against his personal enemy. The impression thus made by his second letter effaced the taint which had been left upon Phrynichus by the first, insomuch that the latter stood exculpated on both charges.[14]
But Phrynichus, though successful in extricating himself, failed thoroughly in his manœuvre against the influence and life of Alkibiadês; in whose favor the oligarchical movement not only went on, but was transferred from Samos to Athens. On arriving at the latter place, Peisander and his companions laid before the public assembly the projects which had been conceived by the oligarchs at Samos. The people were invited to restore Alkibiadês and renounce their democratical constitution; in return for which, they were assured of obtaining the Persian king as an ally, and of overcoming the Peloponnesians.[15] Violent was the storm which these propositions raised in the public assembly. Many speakers rose in animated defence of the democracy; few, if any, distinctly against it. The opponents of Alkibiadês indignantly denounced the mischief of restoring him, in violation of the laws, and in reversal of a judicial sentence, while the Eumolpidæ and Kerykes, the sacred families connected with the Eleusinian mysteries which Alkibiadês had violated, entered their solemn protest on religious grounds to the same effect. Against all these vehement opponents, whose impassioned invectives obtained the full sympathy of the assembly, Peisander had but one simple reply. He called them forward successively by name, and put to each the question: “What hope have you of salvation for the city, when the Peloponnesians have a naval force against us fully equal to ours, together with a greater number of allied cities, and when the king as well as Tissaphernês are supplying them with money, while we have no money left? What hope have you of salvation, unless we can persuade the king to come over to our side?” The answer was a melancholy negative, or perhaps not less melancholy silence. “Well, then, rejoined Peisander, that object cannot possibly be attained, unless we conduct our political affairs for the future in a more moderate way, and put the powers of government more in the hands of a few, and unless we recall Alkibiadês, the only man now living who is competent to do the business. Under present circumstances, we surely shall not lay greater stress upon our political constitution than upon the salvation of the city; the rather as what we now enact may be hereafter modified, if it be found not to answer.”
Against the proposed oligarchical change, the repugnance of the assembly was alike angry and unanimous. But they were silenced by the imperious necessity of the case, as the armament at Samos had been before; and admitting the alternative laid down by Peisander, as I have observed already, the most democratical citizen might be embarrassed as to his vote. Whether any speaker, like Phrynichus at Samos, arraigned the fallacy of the alternative, and called upon Peisander for some guarantee, better than mere asseveration, of the benefits to come, we are not informed. But the general vote of the assembly, reluctant and only passed in the hope of future change, sanctioned his recommendation.[16] He and ten other envoys, invested with full powers of negotiating with Alkibiadês and Tissaphernês, were despatched to Ionia immediately. Peisander at the same time obtained from the assembly a vote deposing Phrynichus from his command; under the accusation of having traitorously caused the loss of Iasus and the capture of Amorgês, after the battle of Milêtus, but from the real certainty that he would prove an insuperable bar to all negotiations with Alkibiadês. Phrynichus, with his colleague Skironidês, being thus displaced, Leon and Diomedon were sent to Samos as commanders in their stead; an appointment of which, as will be presently seen, Peisander was far from anticipating the consequences.
Before his departure for Asia, he took a step yet more important. He was well aware that the recent vote—a result of fear inspired by the war, representing a sentiment utterly at variance with that of the assembly, and only procured as the price of Persian aid against a foreign enemy—would never pass into a reality by the spontaneous act of the people themselves. It was, indeed, indispensable as a first step; partly as an authority to himself, partly also as a confession of the temporary weakness of the democracy, and as a sanction and encouragement for the oligarchical forces to show themselves. But the second step yet remained to be performed; that of calling these forces into energetic action, organizing an amount of violence sufficient to extort from the people actual submission in addition to verbal acquiescence, and thus, as it were, tying down the patient while the process of emasculation was being consummated. Peisander visited all the various political clubs, conspiracies, or hetæries, which were habitual and notorious at Athens; associations, bound together by oath, among the wealthy citizens, partly for purposes of amusement, but chiefly pledging the members to stand by each other in objects of political ambition, in judicial trials, in accusation or defence of official men after the period of office had expired, in carrying points through the public assembly, etc. Among these clubs were distributed most of “the best citizens, the good and honorable men, the elegant men, the well known, the temperate, the honest and moderate men,”[17] etc., to employ that complimentary phraseology by which wealthy and anti-popular politicians have chosen to designate each other, in ancient as well as in modern times. And though there were doubtless individuals among them who deserved these appellations in their best sense, yet the general character of the clubs was not the less exclusive and oligarchical. In the details of political life, they had different partialities as well as different antipathies, and were oftener in opposition than in coöperation with each other. But they furnished, when taken together, a formidable anti-popular force; generally either in abeyance or disseminated in the accomplishment of smaller political measures and separate personal successes; but capable, at a special crisis, of being evoked, organized, and put in conjoint attack, for the subversion of the democracy. Such was the important movement now initiated by Peisander. He visited separately each of these clubs, put them into communication with each other, and exhorted them all to joint aggressive action against their common enemy the democracy, at a moment when it was already intimidated and might be finally overthrown.[18]
Having taken other necessary measures towards the same purpose, Peisander left Athens with his colleagues to enter upon his negotiation with Tissaphernês. But the coöperation and aggressive movement of the clubs which he had originated was prosecuted with increased ardor during his absence, and even fell into hands more organizing and effective than his own. The rhetorical teacher Antiphon, of the deme Rhamnus, took it in hand especially, acquired the confidence of the clubs, and drew the plan of campaign against the democracy. He was a man estimable in private life, and not open to pecuniary corruption: in other respects, of preëminent ability,—in contrivance, judgment, speech, and action. The profession to which he belonged, generally unpopular among the democracy, excluding him from taking rank as a speaker either in the public assembly or the dikastery: for a rhetorical teacher, contending in either of them against a private speaker, to repeat a remark already once made, was considered to stand at the same unfair advantage, as a fencing-master fighting a duel with a gentleman would be held to stand in modern times. Thus debarred himself from the showy celebrity of Athenian political life, Antiphon became only the more consummate, as a master of advice, calculation, scheming, and rhetorical composition,[19] to assist the celebrity of others; insomuch that his silent assistance in political and judicial debates, as a sort of chamber-counsel, was highly appreciated and largely paid. Now such were precisely the talents required for the present occasion; while Antiphon, who hated the democracy for having hitherto kept him in the shade, gladly bent his full talents towards its subversion.