The thirty Spartan counsellors were covered with shame by this emphatic appeal. They all held their peace; while Agesilaus, after a long pause, at length replied,—“You are aware, Pharnabazus, that in Grecian cities, individuals become private friends and guests of each other. Such guests, if the cities to which they belong go to war, fight with each other, and sometimes by accident even kill each other, each in behalf of his respective city. So then it is that we, being at war with your king, are compelled to hold all his dominions as enemy’s land. But in regard to you, we would pay any price to become your friends. I do not invite you to accept us as masters, in place of your present master; I ask you to become our ally, and to enjoy your own property as a freeman—bowing before no man and acknowledging no master. Now freedom is in itself a possession of the highest value. But this is not all. We do not call upon you to be a freeman, and yet poor. We offer you our alliance, to acquire fresh territory, not for the king, but for yourself; by reducing those who are now your fellow-slaves to become your subjects. Now tell me,—if you thus continue a freeman and become rich, what can you want farther to make you a thoroughly prosperous man?”
“I will speak frankly to you in reply (said Pharnabazus). If the king shall send any other general, and put me under him, I shall willingly become your friend and ally. But if he imposes the duty of command on me, so strong is the point of honor, that I shall continue to make war upon you to the best of my power. Expect nothing else.”[516]
Agesilaus, struck with this answer, took his hand and said,—“Would that with such high-minded sentiments you could become our friend! At any rate, let me assure you of this,—that I will immediately quit your territory; and for the future, even should the war continue, I will respect both you and all your property, as long as I can turn my arms against any other Persians.”
Here the conversation closed; Pharnabazus mounted his horse, and rode away. His son by Parapita, however,—at that time still a handsome youth,—lingered behind, ran up to Agesilaus, and exclaimed,—“Agesilaus, I make you my guest.”—“I accept it with all my heart,”—was the answer. “Remember me by this,”—rejoined the young Persian,—putting into the hands of Agesilaus the fine javelin which he carried. The latter immediately took off the ornamental trappings from the horse of his secretary Idæus, and gave them as a return present; upon which the young man rode away with them, and rejoined his father.[517]
There is a touching interest and emphasis in this interview as described by Xenophon, who here breathes into his tame Hellenic chronicle something of the romantic spirit of the Cyropædia. The pledges exchanged between Agesilaus and the son of Pharnabazus were not forgotten by either. The latter,—being in after days impoverished and driven into exile by his brother, during the absence of Pharnabazus in Egypt,—was compelled to take refuge in Greece; where Agesilaus provided him with protection and a home, and even went so far as to employ influence in favor of an Athenian youth, to whom the son of Pharnabazus was attached. This Athenian youth had outgrown the age and size of the boy-runners in the Olympic stadium; nevertheless Agesilaus, by strenuous personal interference, overruled the reluctance of the Eleian judges, and prevailed upon them to admit him as a competitor with the other boys.[518] The stress laid by Xenophon upon this favor illustrates the tone of Grecian sentiment, and shows us the variety of objects which personal ascendency was used to compass. Disinterested in regard to himself, Agesilaus was unscrupulous both in promoting the encroachments, and screening the injustices, of his friends.[519] The unfair privilege which he procured for this youth, though a small thing in itself, could hardly fail to offend a crowd of spectators familiar with the established conditions of the stadium, and to expose the judges to severe censure.
Quitting the satrapy of Pharnabazus,—which was now pretty well exhausted, while the armistice concluded with Tithraustes must have expired,—Agesilaus took up his camp near the temple of Artemis, at Astyra in the plain of Thêbê (in the region commonly known as Æolis), near the Gulf of Elæus. He here employed himself in bringing together an increased number of troops, with a view to penetrate farther into the interior of Asia Minor during the summer. Recent events had greatly increased the belief entertained by the Asiatics in his superior strength; so that he received propositions from various districts in the interior, inviting his presence, and expressing anxiety to throw off the Persian yoke. He sought also to compose the dissensions and misrule which had arisen out of the Lysandrian dekarchies in the Greco-Asiatic cities, avoiding as much as possible sharp inflictions of death or exile. How much he achieved in this direction, we cannot tell,[520] nor can it have been possible, indeed, to achieve much, without dismissing the Spartan harmosts and lessening the political power of his own partisans; neither of which he did.
His plans were now all laid for penetrating farther than ever into the interior, and for permanent conquest, if possible, of the western portion of Persian Asia. What he would have permanently accomplished towards this scheme, cannot be determined; for his aggressive march was suspended by a summons home, the reason of which will appear in the next chapter.
Meanwhile, Pharnabazus had been called from his satrapy to go and take the command of the Persian fleet in Kilikia and the south of Asia Minor, in conjunction with Konon. Since the revolt of Rhodes from the Lacedæmonians, (in the summer of the preceding year, 395 B.C.) that active Athenian had achieved nothing. The burst of activity, produced by the first visit of Pharnabazus at the Persian court, had been paralyzed by the jealousies of the Persian commanders, reluctant to serve under a Greek,—by peculation of officers who embezzled the pay destined for the troops,—by mutiny in the fleet from absence of pay,—and by the many delays arising while the satraps, unwilling to spend their own revenues in the war, waited for orders and remittances from court.[521] Hence Konon had been unable to make any efficient use of his fleet, during those months when the Lacedæmonian fleet was increased to nearly double its former number. At length he resolved,—seemingly at the instigation of his countrymen at home[522] as well as of Euagoras prince of Salamis in Cyprus, and through the encouragement of Ktesias, one of the Grecian physicians resident at the Persian court,—on going himself into the interior to communicate personally with Artaxerxes. Landing on the Kilikian coast, he crossed by land to Thapsakus on the Euphrates (as the Cyreian army had marched), from whence he sailed down the river in a boat to Babylon. It appears that he did not see Artaxerxes, from repugnance to that ceremony of prostration which was required from all who approached the royal person. But his messages, transmitted through Ktesias and others,—with his confident engagement to put down the maritime empire of Sparta and counteract the projects of Agesilaus, if the Persian forces and money were put into efficient action,—produced a powerful effect on the mind of the monarch; who doubtless was not merely alarmed at the formidable position of Agesilaus in Asia Minor, but also hated the Lacedæmonians as main agents in the aggressive enterprise of Cyrus. Artaxerxes not only approved his views, but made to him a large grant of money, and transmitted peremptory orders to the coast that his officers should be active in prosecuting the maritime war.
What was of still greater moment, Konon was permitted to name any person whom he chose, as admiral jointly with himself. It was by his choice that Pharnabazus was called from his satrapy, and ordered to act jointly as commander of the fleet. This satrap, the bravest and most straightforward among all the Persian grandees, and just now smarting with resentment at the devastation of his satrapy[523] by Agesilaus, coöperated heartily with Konon. A powerful fleet, partly Phœnician, partly Athenian or Grecian, was soon equipped, superior in number even to the newly-organized Lacedæmonian fleet under Peisander.[524] Euagoras, prince of Salamis in Cyprus,[525] not only provided many triremes, but served himself, personally, on board.
It was about the month of July, 394 B.C., that Pharnabazus and Konon brought their united fleet to the south-western corner of Asia Minor; first, probably, to the friendly island of Rhodes, next, off Loryma[526] and the mountain called Dorion on the peninsula of Knidus.[527] Peisander, with the fleet of Sparta and her allies, sailed out from Knidus to meet them, and both parties prepared for a battle. The numbers of the Lacedæmonians are reported by Diodorus at eighty-five triremes; those of Konon and Pharnabazus at above ninety. But Xenophon, without particularizing the number on either side, seems to intimate the disparity as far greater; stating that the entire fleet of Peisander was considerably inferior even to the Grecian division under Konon, without reckoning the Phœnician ships under Pharnabazus.[528] In spite of such inferiority, Peisander did not shrink from the encounter. Though a young man without military skill, he possessed a full measure of Spartan courage and pride; moreover,—since the Spartan maritime empire was only maintained by the assumed superiority of his fleet,—had he confessed himself too weak to fight, his enemies would have gone unopposed around the islands to excite revolt. Accordingly, he sailed forth from the harbor of Knidus. But when the two fleets were ranged opposite to each other, and the battle was about to commence,—so manifest and alarming was the superiority of the Athenians and Persians, that his Asiatic allies on the left division, noway hearty in the cause, fled almost without striking a blow. Under such discouraging circumstances, he nevertheless led his fleet into action with the greatest valor. But his trireme was overwhelmed by numbers, broken in various places by the beaks of the enemy’s ships, and forced back upon the land, together with a large portion of his fleet. Many of the crews jumped out and got to land, abandoning their triremes to the conquerors. Peisander, too, might have escaped in the same way; but disdaining either to survive his defeat or to quit his ship, fell gallantly fighting aboard. The victory of Konon and Pharnabazus was complete. More than half of the Spartan ships were either captured or destroyed, though the neighborhood of the land enabled a large proportion of the crews to escape to Knidus, so that no great number of prisoners were taken.[529] Among the allies of Sparta, the chief loss of course fell upon those who were most attached to her cause; the disaffected or lukewarm were those who escaped by flight at the beginning.