Greece / Painted by John Fulleylove; described by J.A. McClymont

by J. A. M'Clymont

the enemy with such force as to compel them to give way at both wings, where their ranks were weakest and those of the Greeks strongest. Instead of pursuing the fugitives the victorious wings supported their own centre by attacking the enemy from the flanks and rear, putting them into confusion and causing a panic. The whole Persian host was soon in full flight to their ships, but in their ignorance of the country many of them were caught in the marshes and never reached the shore. According to Herodotus more than 6000 of them lost their lives. Comparatively few prisoners were taken, as the attempts of the Greeks to capture or burn the ships were attended with little success; but rich spoils, in the form of tents and other equipments, fell into their hands. As the fleet was sailing away towards Cape Sunium a flashing shield was seen on a height above the plain, which was supposed to be a traitorous signal given to the Persians to sail round to Athens and take possession of the city in the absence of its defenders. Miltiades was equal to the occasion. By dint of the most strenuous exertions he and his troops reached Athens before the enemy could carry out his plan, and the fleet soon set sail for the Cyclades. Next day the Athenians went out again, to bury their dead comrades—192 in number—and erected a tumulus over them, which may still be seen, along with a separate mound for the Platæans, and one for the slaves who had served as unarmed or half-armed attendants. Ten columns were afterwards set up, bearing the names of the dead, according to their several tribes, with a special monument to Miltiades; and Pausanias, who lived 600 years later, mentions having read the names. It would scarcely be possible to over-estimate the importance of the battle of Marathon in Greek history. It virtually saved the country from being overrun by oriental barbarism, and gave the world a signal proof for all time that the military strength of a people depends more on their animating spirit than on their numbers, and that it is possible for a comparatively small nation to preserve its independence if its citizens be united and resolute in devotion to the common cause. The event must have made an enormous impression, when even such an illustrious poet as Æschylus regarded it as the greatest honour of his life that he had fought at Marathon, and left directions that that fact, and no other, should be recorded on his tomb.

Ten years later the same peril reappeared in a still more threatening form, and again the men of Athens covered themselves with glory. It might have been expected that when Xerxes and his immense host approached the city they would have prepared for a siege. But the numbers of the enemy were so immense that, if they had remained within the walls, it would only have been a question of time when they would have had to surrender. In their distress they appealed to the Delphian oracle for advice, but the first response was of a most depressing nature. They were told to quit their “wheel-shaped city” and flee to the ends of the earth. A second appeal, which they made in the form of suppliants, elicited the assurance that when everything else in the land of Cecrops was taken, Zeus would grant to Athena the preservation of a wooden wall to be a sure defence to the Athenians and their children. Under the astute guidance of Themistocles they came to the conclusion that it was their ships that were referred to. A few of them, however, mostly too old or too poor to have much prospect of a welcome elsewhere, put a different construction on the oracle, and took refuge in the Acropolis, strengthening its defences by the erection of wooden palisades. They succeeded in holding the fortress for a time, in spite of the arrows with burning tow attached which the Persians poured in upon them from their position on the Areopagus. The assailants found it impossible to force their way up against the great stones which were rolled down upon them from the western entrance, and it was not till they discovered a secret ascent on the north side of the rock that they got the better of the defenders by taking them unawares, and became masters of the fortress. A remorseless work of destruction then ensued, involving the temples and other buildings on the Acropolis in the same fate as had befallen, or was soon to befall, the best of the houses in the city, and its walls. It seemed to the Athenians a terrible calamity at the time, but it proved to be a blessing in disguise, for it led to the restoration of the city on a scale of grandeur unknown before, and made the Acropolis one of the wonders of the world. The naval operations, also, to which they were obliged to have recourse, crowned as these were by the glorious victory at Salamis, opened their eyes to the possibility of a great naval empire, and led them to turn to account the advantages to be derived from their harbours at the Piræus, by not only equipping them with docks but also fortifying them and connecting them with Athens by means of the long walls, completed in the next generation by Pericles.

Most of the Athenians had taken refuge in the adjoining island of Salamis (the ancient home of Ajax), partly owing to an allusion to it in the second Delphian oracle. “Divine Salamis,” it was said, “would destroy many sons of women”; and this, Themistocles held, could only refer to a slaughter of the enemy. Although almost all the powers in southern Greece were acting in concert with Athens in resisting Xerxes, the Peloponnesians were disposed to fall back on their line of defence at the isthmus of Corinth; and it was with the greatest difficulty that Themistocles prevailed on them to take part in the engagement at Salamis. When it seemed that nothing else would serve his purpose he sent a secret message to Xerxes, as if he were turning traitor to his country, urging him to prevent the escape of the Greeks when he had them at his mercy. The ruse succeeded. During the night the Persians stationed ships at the two ends of the straits to prevent the egress of the Greeks, and also landed a body of men on the small island of Psyttaleia, at the south-eastern outlet, in case the enemy should

The view is bounded to the left by the foot of the Acropolis, with part of Beulé’s gate; below, to the right of this, we overlook the whole of the ancient Assembly Place of the Athenian people (the Pnyx), with its retaining wall of colossal masonry below, and its scarped-rock boundary and bēma above. Farther away the famous olive groves, following the course of the Kephissus, stretch along the plain.

seek a refuge in what proved to be their own tomb. In the morning the two fleets confronted each other, the Greek vessels lying under the crescent-shaped coast of the island of Salamis, to the number of more than 300, while the Persian ships, about three times as numerous, took up their position along the Attic coast. Behind the latter their army was drawn up near the shore to enjoy a sight of the expected victory, while Xerxes himself, for the same purpose, occupied a rising ground, which is still known as Xerxes’ Seat, sitting on a silver-footed throne, which was captured by the enemy and afterwards exhibited on the Acropolis. On this occasion the courage was not all on the part of the Greeks, for they were very cautious for a while, and many of the Persians and their Phœnician and Ionic allies fought bravely. But partly owing to the want of concert among the invaders, and the unwieldiness of their immense fleet in the narrow waters, which soon led to confusion, and partly to the superior naval skill of the Greeks, the great king had the mortification of beholding the destruction of about 200 of his ships of war and the capture or flight of many more, while the Greeks escaped with the loss of forty ships. Xerxes was so completely unmanned by the unexpected defeat, and so afraid that the bridge over the Hellespont might be destroyed before he got across, that he immediately took his departure. But in quitting Europe he sent back his general Mardonius with 300,000 men to effect the conquest of Greece. Attica was again ravaged, and the destruction of Athens was rendered still more complete. Tempting overtures were made to the Athenians by the Persian general for their submission, and great alarm was felt in Sparta and elsewhere lest these overtures should be accepted. But the Athenians did not for a moment entertain them. “Tell Mardonius,” was their memorable answer, “that as long as the sun shall continue in his present path, we will never contract alliance with Xerxes: we will encounter him in our own defence, putting our trust in the aid of those gods and heroes to whom he has shown no reverence, and whose houses and statues he has burned.” Their faith was soon justified by the victory of the allied forces at Platæa and the naval success which was achieved the same day at Mycale. All fears of Persian conquest were dispelled; and the Athenians returned from their temporary exile, to devote themselves to the restoration of their city with a spirit and an energy which betokened the great future in store for them.