Her first application to the Great King for this purpose dates from the commencement of the Peloponnesian war, and is prefaced by an apology, little less than humiliating, from king Archidamus; who, not unconscious of the sort of treason which he was meditating, pleads that Sparta, when the Athenians are conspiring against her, ought not to be blamed for asking from foreigners as well as from Greeks aid for her own preservation.[13] From the earliest commencement to the seventh year of the war, many separate and successive envoys were despatched by the Spartans to Susa; two of whom were seized in Thrace, brought to Athens, and there put to death. The rest reached their destination, but talked in so confused a way, and contradicted each other so much, that the Persian court, unable to understand what they meant,[14] sent Artaphernes with letters to Sparta (in the seventh year of the war) complaining of such stupidity, and asking for clearer information. Artaphernes fell into the hands of an Athenian squadron at Eion on the Strymon, and was conveyed to Athens; where he was treated with great politeness, and sent back (after the letters which he carried had been examined) to Ephesus. What is more important to note is, that Athenian envoys were sent along with him, with a view of bringing Athens into friendly communication with the Great King; which was only prevented by the fact that Artaxerxes Longimanus just then died. Here we see the fatal practice, generated by intestine war, of invoking Persian aid; begun by Sparta as an importunate solicitor,—and partially imitated by Athens, though we do not know what her envoys were instructed to say, had they been able to reach Susa.
Nothing more is heard about Persian intervention until the year of the great Athenian disasters before Syracuse. Elate with the hopes arising out of that event, the Persians required no solicitation, but were quite as eager to tender interference for their own purposes, as Sparta was to invite them for hers. How ready Sparta was to purchase their aid by the surrender of the Asiatic Greeks, and that too without any stipulations in their favor,—has been recounted in my last volume.[15] She had not now the excuse,—for it stands only as an excuse and not as a justification—of self-defence against aggression from Athens, which Archidamus had produced at the beginning of the war. Even then it was only a colorable excuse, not borne out by the reality of the case; but now, the avowed as well as the real object was something quite different,—not to repel, but to crush, Athens. Yet to accomplish that object, not even of pretended safety, but of pure ambition, Sparta sacrificed unconditionally the liberty of her Asiatic kinsmen; a price which Archidamus at the beginning of the war would certainly never have endured the thoughts of paying, notwithstanding the then formidable power of Athens. Here, too, we find Athens following the example; and consenting, in hopes of procuring Persian aid, to the like sacrifice, though the bargain was never consummated. It is true that she was then contending for her existence. Nevertheless, the facts afford melancholy proof how much the sentiment of Pan-hellenic independence became enfeebled in both the leaders, amidst the fierce intestine conflict terminated by the battle of Ægospotami.[16]
After that battle, the bargain between Sparta and Persia would doubtless have been fulfilled, and the Asiatic Greeks would have passed at once under the dominion of the latter,—had not an entirely new train of circumstances arisen out of the very peculiar position and designs of Cyrus. That young prince did all in his power to gain the affections of the Greeks, as auxiliaries for his ambitious speculations; in which speculations both Sparta and the Asiatic Greeks took part, compromising themselves irrevocably against Artaxerxes, and still more against Tissaphernes. Sparta thus became unintentionally the enemy of Persia, and found herself compelled to protect the Asiatic Greeks against his hostility, with which they were threatened; a protection easy for her to confer, not merely from the unbounded empire which she then enjoyed over the Grecian world, but from the presence of the renowned Cyreian Ten Thousand, and the contempt for Persian military strength which they brought home from their retreat. She thus finds herself in the exercise of a Pan-hellenic protectorate or presidency, first through the ministry of Derkyllidas, next of Agesilaus, who even sacrifices at Aulis, takes up the sceptre of Agamemnon, and contemplates large schemes of aggression against the Great King. Here, however, the Persians play against her the same game which she had invoked them to assist in playing against Athens. Their fleet, which fifteen years before she had invited for her own purposes, is now brought in against herself, and with far more effect, since her empire was more odious as well as more oppressive than the Athenian. It is now Athens and her allies who call in Persian aid; without any direct engagement, indeed, to surrender the Asiatic Greeks, for we are told that after the battle of Knidus, Konon incurred the displeasure of the Persians by his supposed plans for reuniting them with Athens,[17] and Athenian aid was still continued to Evagoras,—yet, nevertheless, indirectly paving the way for that consummation. If Athens and her allies here render themselves culpable of an abnegation of Pan-hellenic sentiment, we may remark, as before, that they act under the pressure of stronger necessities than could ever be pleaded by Sparta; and that they might employ on their own behalf, with much greater truth, the excuse of self-preservation preferred by king Archidamus.
But never on any occasion did that excuse find less real place than in regard to the mission of Antalkidas. Sparta was at that time so powerful, even after the loss of her maritime empire, that the allies at the Isthmus of Corinth, jealous of each other and held together only by common terror, could hardly stand on the defensive against her, and would probably have been disunited by reasonable offers on her part; nor would she have needed even to recall Agesilaus from Asia. Nevertheless, the mission was probably dictated in great measure by a groundless panic, arising from the sight of the revived Long Walls and refortified Piræus, and springing at once to the fancy, that a new Athenian empire, such as had existed forty years before, was about to start into life; a fancy little likely to be realized, since the very peculiar circumstances which had created the first Athenian empire were now totally reversed. Debarred from maritime empire herself, the first object with Sparta was, to shut out Athens from the like; the next, to put down all partial federations or political combinations, and to enforce universal autonomy, or the maximum of political isolation; in order that there might nowhere exist a power capable of resisting herself, the strongest of all individual states. As a means to this end, which was no less in the interest of Persia than in hers, she outbid all prior subserviences to the Great King, betrayed to him not only one entire division of her Hellenic kinsmen, but also the general honor of the Hellenic name in the most flagrant manner,—and volunteered to medise in order that the Persians might repay her by laconising.[18] To ensure fully the obedience of all the satraps, who had more than once manifested dissentient views of their own, Antalkidas procured and brought down a formal order signed and sealed at Susa; and Sparta undertook, without shame or scruple, to enforce the same order,—“the convention sent down by the king,”—upon all her countrymen; thus converting them into the subjects, and herself into a sort of viceroy or satrap, of Artaxerxes. Such an act of treason to the Pan-hellenic cause was far more flagrant and destructive than that alleged confederacy with the Persian king, for which the Theban Ismenias was afterwards put to death, and that, too, by the Spartans themselves.[19] Unhappily it formed a precedent for the future, and was closely copied afterwards by Thebes;[20] foreboding but too clearly the short career which Grecian political independence had to run.
That large patriotic sentiment, which dictated the magnanimous answer sent by the Athenians[21] to the offers of Mardonius in 479 B.C., refusing in the midst of ruin present and prospective, all temptation to betray the sanctity of Pan-hellenic fellowship,—that sentiment which had been during the two following generations the predominant inspiration of Athens, and had also been powerful, though always less powerful, at Sparta,—was now, in the former, overlaid by more pressing apprehensions, and in the latter completely extinguished. Now it was to the leading states that Greece had to look, for holding up the great banner of Pan-hellenic independence; from the smaller states nothing more could be required than that they should adhere to and defend it, when upheld.[22] But so soon as Sparta was seen to solicit and enforce, and Athens to accept (even under constraint), the proclamation under the king’s hand and seal brought down by Antalkidas,—that banner was no longer a part of the public emblems of Grecian political life. The grand idea represented by it,—of collective self-determining Hellenism,—was left to dwell in the bosoms of individual patriots.
If we look at the convention of Antalkidas apart from its form and warranty, and with reference to its substance, we shall find that though its first article was unequivocally disgraceful, its last was at least popular as a promise to the ear. Universal autonomy, to each city, small or great, was dear to Grecian political instinct. I have already remarked more than once that the exaggerated force of this desire was the chief cause of the short duration of Grecian freedom. Absorbing all the powers of life to the separate parts, it left no vital force or integrity to the whole; especially, it robbed both each and all of the power of self-defence against foreign assailants. Though indispensable up to a certain point and under certain modifications, yet beyond these modifications, which Grecian political instinct was far from recognizing, it produced a great preponderance of mischief. Although, therefore, this item of the convention was in its promise acceptable and popular,—and although we shall find it hereafter invoked as a protection in various individual cases of injustice,—we must inquire how it was carried into execution, before we can pronounce whether it was good or evil, the present of a friend or of an enemy.
The succeeding pages will furnish an answer to this inquiry. The Lacedæmonians, as “presidents (guarantees or executors) of the peace, sent down by the king,”[23] undertook the duty of execution; and we shall see that from the beginning they meant nothing sincerely. They did not even attempt any sincere and steady compliance with the honest, though undistinguishing, political instinct of the Greek mind; much less did they seek to grant as much as was really good, and to withhold the remainder. They defined autonomy in such manner, and meted it out in such portions, as suited their own political interests and purposes. The promise made by the convention, except in so far as it enabled them to increase their own power by dismemberment or party intervention, proved altogether false and hollow. For if we look back to the beginning of the Peloponnesian war, when they sent to Athens to require general autonomy throughout Greece, we shall find that the word had then a distinct and serious import; demanding that the cities held in dependence by Athens should be left free, which freedom Sparta might have ensured for them herself at the close of the war, had she not preferred to convert it into a far harsher empire. But in 387 (the date of the peace of Antalkidas) there were no large body of subjects to be emancipated, except the allies of Sparta herself, to whom it was by no means intended to apply. So that in fact, what was promised, as well as what was realized, even by the most specious item of this disgraceful convention, was—“that cities should enjoy autonomy, not for their own comfort and in their own way, but for Lacedæmonian convenience;” a significant phrase (employed by Perikles,[24] in the debates preceding the Peloponnesian war) which forms a sort of running text for Grecian history during the sixteen years between the peace of Antalkidas and the battle of Leuktra.
I have already mentioned that the first two applications of the newly-proclaimed autonomy, made by the Lacedæmonians, were to extort from the Corinthian government the dismissal of its Argeian auxiliaries, and to compel Thebes to renounce her ancient presidency of the Bœotian federation. The latter especially was an object which they had long had at heart;[25] and by both, their ascendency in Greece was much increased. Athens, too, terrified by the new development of Persian force as well as partially bribed by the restoration of her three islands, into an acceptance of the peace,—was thus robbed of her Theban and Corinthian allies, and disabled from opposing the Spartan projects. But before we enter upon these projects, it will be convenient to turn for a short time to the proceedings of the Persians.
Even before the death of Darius Nothus (father of Artaxerxes and Cyrus) Egypt had revolted from the Persians, under a native prince named Amyrtæus. To the Grecian leaders who accompanied Cyrus in his expedition against his brother, this revolt was well known to have much incensed the Persians; so that Klearchus, in the conversation which took place after the death of Cyrus about accommodation with Artaxerxes, intimated that the Ten Thousand could lend him effectual aid in reconquering Egypt.[26] It was not merely these Greeks who were exposed to danger by the death of Cyrus, but also the various Persians and other subjects who had lent assistance to him; all of whom made submission and tried to conciliate Artaxerxes, except Tamos, who had commanded the fleet of Cyrus on the coasts both of Ionia and Kilikia. Such was the alarm of Tamos when Tissaphernes came down in full power to the coast, that he fled with his fleet and treasures to Egypt, to seek protection from king Psammetichus, to whom he had rendered valuable service. This traitor, however, having so valuable a deposit brought to him, forgot every thing else in his avidity to make it sure, and put to death Tamos with all his children.[27] About 395 B.C., we find Nephereus king of Egypt lending aid to the Lacedæmonian fleet against Artaxerxes.[28] Two years afterwards (392-390 B.C.), during the years immediately succeeding the victory of Knidus, and the voyage of Pharnabazus across the Ægean to Peloponnesus,—we hear of that satrap as employed with Abrokomas and Tithraustes in strenuous but unavailing efforts to reconquer Egypt.[29] Having thus repulsed the Persians, the Egyptian king Akoras is found between 390-380 B.C.,[30] sending aid to Evagoras in Cyprus against the same enemy. And in spite of farther efforts made afterwards by Artaxerxes to reconquer Egypt, the native kings in that country maintained their independence for about sixty years in all, until the reign of his successor Ochus.
But it was a Grecian enemy,—of means inferior, yet of qualities much superior, to any of these Egyptians,—who occupied the chief attention of the Persians immediately after the peace of Antalkidas: Evagoras, despot of Salamis in Cyprus. Respecting that prince we possess a discourse of the most glowing and superabundant eulogy, composed after his death for the satisfaction (and probably paid for with the money) of his son and successor Nikoklês, by the contemporary Isokrates. Allowing as we must do for exaggeration and partiality, even the trustworthy features of the picture are sufficiently interesting.