Stories from Thucydides

by Thucydides

After this impudent defence of his own pernicious policy, which had led to the crushing defeat at Mantinea, and thus enabled the Spartans to restore their damaged reputation, Alcibiades proceeded to deal with the question of the day, and exerted all his sophistry to confirm the Athenians in their design of invading Sicily. That island, he asserted, was inhabited by a mixed population with no settled homes, and no common patriotic sentiment; and among these motley elements they would find plenty of adherents. The Siceliots [Footnote: Greeks of Sicily.] were poorly armed, ill-furnished with heavy infantry, and in constant danger from the hostile Sicels. The risk of attack from the Peloponnesians would not be increased by sending part of the Athenian fleet to Sicily: for Attica was in any case always exposed to invasion, and a sufficient force of ships would be left at home to keep command of the sea.

"We have no excuse, then," said Alcibiades in conclusion, "for breaking our word to the Egestaeans, and drawing back from this enterprise. Both honour and policy are pointing the way to Sicily. An empire like ours is an ever-expanding circle, which lives by growing, and cannot stand still. It is only by getting more, and always more, that we can keep what we have. And let not Nicias succeed in his attempt to set the old against the young, neither let us believe, like him, that the stability of a state consists in stagnation. It is only by a hearty co-operation of all ages and classes that any state can prosper, and a community which finds no outlet for its energies abroad is soon worn out by discord and faction at home. Above all is this true of us Athenians, to whom ceaseless toil and endeavour is the very element in which we live."

The advice of Alcibiades, thus tendered in the garb of political wisdom, was of fatal and ruinous tendency, and in direct opposition to the oft-repeated warnings of Pericles. But his speech was exactly suited to the temper of his audience, and most of those who followed him spoke to the same effect, and when the Egestaeans and Leontines renewed their entreaties it became evident that the original motion would be confirmed by a large majority. Nicias, however, resolved to make one more effort, and he came forward to speak again, hoping by a new device to check the torrent of popular enthusiasm. Affecting to regard the matter as settled, he entered into an estimate of the force required for the proposed expedition, prefaced by an alarming picture of the wealth and power of the Sicilian Greeks. To act with effect against such an enemy, they must send, not only an overwhelming naval force, but a numerous body of troops, both cavalry and infantry, and a fleet laden with supplies for many months. They must proceed, in fact, as if they were founding a great city on a hostile soil. On no other condition, added Nicias, would he undertake the command. Nicias had intended, by exaggerating the difficulties of the undertaking, to damp the ardour of the Athenians; but to his utter dismay, these timid counsels were greeted with a great shout of applause. It was supposed that he had changed his opinion, and even the elder men began to think that so prudent a leader, backed by such an armament, could not fail of success. A great wave of excitement swept over the assembly, and the few who still doubted were cowed into silence. When the tumult had subsided, a certain Demostratus, [Footnote: The name is given by Plutarch.] who had spoken strongly in favour of the expedition, addressing Nicias in the name of the assembly, asked him to state plainly what force he required. Thus driven into a corner, Nicias answered, with great reluctance, that the number of triremes must be not less than one hundred, with five thousand heavy-armed infantry, and slingers and bow-men in proportion. This enormous estimate was carried without demur, and by the same vote full powers were conferred on the generals to fix the scale of the armament as they might think best for the interests of Athens.

Thus, by a strange freak of fortune, the Athenians, at the most momentous crisis of their history, were urged along the road to ruin by the most opposite qualities in their leaders, the cold caution of Nicias, and the wild energy of Alcibiades.

III

During the whole of the following spring [Footnote: B.C. 415.] preparations for the invasion of Sicily were actively pushed on, and the whole city was in a bustle and stir of excitement. Athens had recently recovered from the ravages of the plague, and six years of peace had recruited her resources, both in men and money. Since the first outbreak of the war a new generation had grown up, and these young and untried spirits joined, with all the fire of youth, in an enterprise which promised them a boundless field of adventure. Others were attracted by the baser motive of gain, or by mere curiosity, and the love of travel. No thought of danger or hardship, no hint of possible failure, clouded the brilliant prospect; it was a gay holiday excursion, and at the same time a grand scheme of conquest, offering fame to the ambitious, wealth to the needy, and pleasant recreation to all. Thousands flocked eagerly to enter their names for the service, and the only trouble of the recruiting officers was in choosing the stoutest and the best.

The great armament was on the eve of departure, and all hearts were full of joyful anticipation, when an event occurred which suddenly chilled this happy mood, and cast a shadow of evil augury on the whole undertaking. The Athenians of that age, like their descendants nearly five centuries later, [Footnote: See Acts xvii. 22.] were "more god-fearing than other men." They worshipped a multitude of divinities, and their city was thronged with the temples and statues of heroes and gods. Conspicuous among the objects of popular adoration was the god Hermes, who is exhibited by ancient poets and artists as a gracious and lovely youth, the special patron of eloquence and wit, the guardian spirit of travellers and merchants, and the giver of good luck. A familiar feature in the streets and public places of Athens was the bust of Hermes, surmounting a quadrangular stone pillar. Many hundreds of these pillars, which were called Hermae, were scattered about over the whole city, standing before the doors of houses and temples, at cross-ways and places of public resort. Wherever he went, whatever he did, the Athenian felt himself to be in the presence of this genial and friendly power, who attended him, with more than human sympathy, in all his ways.

If such were the feelings of the Athenians towards their favourite deity, what must have been their horror when they awoke one morning to find that all the busts of Hermes, with one or two exceptions, were shattered and mutilated beyond all recognition. The whole population was thunderstruck, and wild rumours ran from mouth to mouth concerning the perpetrators and the motive of this shocking outrage. It was evident that many hands must have been employed on the work of destruction, and those who had so foully insulted the most hallowed affections of their fellow-citizens were believed to be capable of any enormity. It was loudly asserted that a black conspiracy was hatching against the liberties of the people, and that the worst days of the tyranny were about to be revived. For in those days religion and politics were associated with a closeness of intimacy unknown in modern Europe, and sacrilege might well be regarded as a prelude to treason. Active measures were at once taken to bring the offenders to justice, and great rewards were offered to anyone, whether citizen, slave, or resident foreigner, who gave information concerning this or any similar crime. At first nothing was disclosed as to the mutilation of the Hermae, but other recent acts of profanation were brought to light, and among these was mentioned a derisive parody of the great Eleusinian Mysteries, alleged to have been performed in the house of Alcibiades, and elsewhere. The enemies of Alcibiades, who were both numerous and powerful, eagerly seized this handle against him; but when the matter was debated in the public assembly, it became evident that, if he were brought to trial at once, his present popularity, as chief promoter of the Sicilian expedition, would ensure his acquittal. Seeing, therefore, that their attack had been premature, those who had led the outcry against him now drew back, reserving themselves for a more favourable occasion. Being known as the bitter opponents of Alcibiades, they could not, without exciting grave suspicions, propose the adjournment of his trial; but other speakers, prompted by them, urged on grounds of public expediency that the charges against him should be held in suspense, so as not to delay the departure of the fleet. Alcibiades saw plainly that this manoeuvre was contrived to get him out of the way, to remove his adherents from Athens, and leave his enemies free to pursue their machinations during his absence. But it was in vain that he exposed the malicious motives of the last speakers, and pleaded earnestly for an immediate trial. The Athenians were still possessed by their daring scheme of conquest, and they decreed that Alcibiades should keep his command, and sail at once to Sicily.

IV

At last the great day arrived, and in the first light of a mid-summer dawn, a vast multitude was seen pouring along the broad highway which led, between the Long Walls, from Athens to Peiraeus. The Upper City was almost deserted by its inhabitants, for there was hardly one Athenian who had not some cherished comrade, or some near relation, enrolled for service in Sicily, and the crowd was swelled by thousands of strangers, who came as spectators of that memorable scene. Little now appeared of that sanguine and joyous temper which had prevailed among the Athenians when they first voted for the expedition. Their feelings had lately been fearfully harrowed by the mutilation of the Hermae, and now that the moment of parting was at hand, all the perils and uncertainties of their grand enterprise rose up vividly before them. They were restored, however, to some degree of cheerfulness, when they reached the harbour of Peiraeus, and saw the magnificent fleet riding at anchor. Nearly all the vessels lying in the bay were Athenian; for the main body of the allies, and the commissariat ships, had been ordered to muster at Corcyra. The triremes furnished by Athens numbered a hundred, of which sixty were fully equipped as war-galleys, while forty were employed as transports. These numbers had been equalled more than once before during the war; but in efficiency, in splendour of appearance, and in the quality of the crews, this was by far the finest fleet that ever sailed from Peiraeus. Only the bare hulls of the ships were provided by the state, and each vessel was assigned to some wealthy citizen, who defrayed all the expense of fitting her for active service. Sometimes the cost of equipping a ship was divided between two or more citizens, and at ordinary times this form of taxation must have been felt by the rich as a heavy burden. But such was the popularity of the Sicilian expedition that the wealthy Athenians who were charged with this duty went far beyond what was required of them, each striving to surpass the others by the superior beauty and speed of his own ship. The crews were all composed of picked men, attracted by the double rate of pay which was furnished from the state exchequer; and in addition to this, the trierarchs [Footnote: Citizens charged with the duty of equipping a trireme.] paid special premiums to the petty officers and to the highest class of rowers. The same spirit of emulation extended to the whole body of Athenians enrolled in the army and fleet; every man felt that whatever he spent on his own personal equipment was spent for the honour and glory of Athens. And the effect produced on the public mind in Greece was, in fact, prodigious: after all the ravages of the plague, and ten years of exhausting warfare, Athens, it seemed, was stronger than ever, and in the mere exuberance of energy was making this imposing display of wealth and power. As to the ostensible object of the expedition—the conquest of Sicily—few doubted that it must follow as a matter of course.