Stories from Thucydides

by Thucydides

VIII

We must now return to Syracuse, where fortune was preparing a new blow for the ill-fated Athenian army. Gylippus came back from his mission at the beginning of spring, bringing with him the reinforcements which he had gathered from various parts of Sicily. At once resuming the offensive, he planned an attack on the forts recently erected by Nicias at Plemmyrium, and in order to divide the attention of the Athenians, he determined to make a simultaneous movement against them by sea and land. He himself took command of the army, and setting out at night, made his way round to the rear of the Athenian position at Plemmyrium. Meanwhile the Syracusan fleet lay ready in two divisions, one of which, consisting of thirty-five vessels, was moored in the docks, within the Great Harbour, while the other, to the number of forty-five, had its station in the Lesser Harbour. At the hour appointed by Gylippus, just as day was breaking, both squadrons got under weigh, and bore down upon Plemmyrium, from the opposite sides of Ortygia. Though taken by surprise, the Athenians put out in haste with sixty triremes, and a sea-fight ensued, in which the Syracusans for some time had the advantage. By this time Gylippus was at hand with his army, and by a sudden assault on the Athenian forts he made an easy capture of all three; for the greater part of the garrison had flocked down to the sea, to watch the progress of the action in the Great Harbour. Fortunately for these men, who had so grossly neglected their duty, the Athenian fleet had now gained a decisive victory, and they were thus enabled to make their escape by water, and cross over to the camp of Nicias, on the other side of the bay.

By the capture of Plemmyrium a great treasure fell into the hands of the Syracusans. The loss to the Athenians, in money, stores, and men, was serious enough; but further consequences ensued, which were nothing less than disastrous. The enemy now commanded both sides of the entrance to the Great Harbour, and not a ship-load of provisions could reach the Athenian camp without an encounter with the Syracusan triremes. Well might despondency and dismay take possession of the beleaguered army, cramped in their narrow quarters on the swampy flats of the Anapus.

All Sicily, with one or two exceptions, had now declared for Syracuse, and reinforcements came pouring in from every side. Gylippus was resolved, if possible, to destroy the armament of Nicias, before the fresh succours from Athens had time to arrive; and, as before, the attack was to be made simultaneously by sea and land. Since the loss of Plemmyrium, the Athenian fleet had been penned up in the confined space at the head of the Great Harbour. Outside of these narrow limits, the whole coast was in the hands of the enemy, and any Athenian trireme which ventured out into open water ran the risk of being driven on a hostile shore. Unless they chose to incur this great peril, the Athenians would have to fight in close order, with the long, tapering prows of their vessels exposed to collision.

The Syracusans skilfully availed themselves of the advantage thus offered. The impact of prow with prow, which had hitherto been regarded as a disgraceful evidence of bad seamanship, had now become the most effective method of attack; and in order to execute this simple manoeuvre without damage to their own ships, the Syracusans shortened the prows of their triremes, and strengthened them with heavy beams of timber, thus converting them into a broad and solid mass, which could be driven with crushing force against the slender beaks of the Athenian galleys.

When all was ready, Gylippus led out his troops, and assailed the Athenian wall which faced towards Syracuse, and at the same time the garrison stationed at Polichne left their quarters, and made another attack on the opposite side. The assault had already commenced, when the Syracusan fleet, which numbered eighty triremes, was seen advancing towards the inner shore of the bay, where the ships of Nicias lay moored; and the Athenian seamen, who had not expected to be called into action, hastened in some confusion to man their ships, seventy-five of which were presently engaged with the enemy. After a day passed in irregular and desultory fighting, the battle ended slightly in favour of the Syracusans. During the next day the Syracusans remained inactive, and Nicias employed the interval in repairing the ships which had suffered damage, and providing for the defence of his fleet. The Athenian naval station was protected by a row of piles, rammed into the bottom of the sea, forming a semi-circular breastwork, with an opening about two hundred feet wide, where the ships passed in and out. On either side of this entrance Nicias caused a merchant vessel to be moored, and each vessel was provided with an engine called a dolphin, a heavy mass of lead, suspended from the yard-arm, which could be dropped on the deck of any hostile trireme attempting to pass.

Early on the following morning the Syracusans resumed hostilities both by sea and land, and after several hours of desultory fighting, they drew off their fleet, and sailed back to their station under the walls of the city. The Athenians were well pleased by this sudden relief, and concluding that their work was done for the day, they disembarked at leisure, and began to prepare their midday meal. But before they had time to snatch a mouthful, the whole Syracusan fleet was seen advancing again from the opposite shore, and the hungry and weary Athenian crews were summoned on board to repel a second attack. This crafty manoeuvre was due to a suggestion of Ariston, the most skilful of the Corinthian seamen, by whose advice provisions had been brought down to the beach, so that the Syracusan crews were kept together, and ready to renew the action, after a brief interval for repose and refreshment.

For a little while the two fleets faced each other, without venturing to attack; then the Athenians, who were feverish with hunger and fatigue, could restrain themselves no longer, but with one consent they dashed their oars into the water, and with shouts of mutual encouragement charged down upon the enemy. The Syracusans kept a firm front, and opposing their massive prows to the rash assault, inflicted great damage on the Athenian triremes, many of which were completely wrecked by the shock of the collision. On every side the Athenians were hard beset; the light-armed troops posted on the decks of the Syracusan vessels, plied them with a shower of javelins, while the waters swarmed with a multitude of boats, manned by daring adventurers, who rowed boldly up to the sides of the Athenian triremes, broke the oars, and hurled darts through the port-holes at the rowers. After fighting for some time at a great disadvantage, with exhausted crews, and in a narrow space, where they had no room to manoeuvre, the Athenians were compelled to fall back, and sought refuge behind their palisade.

This important success raised the spirits of the Syracusans higher than ever. They had gained a decisive victory over the greatest naval power in Greece, sunk seven triremes, disabled many more, and slain or taken prisoners a large number of men. Flushed with pride and hope, they immediately began to prepare for a final attack, which was to end in the complete destruction of their enemies both by sea and land. But these high expectations received a sudden check; for on the day after the battle, [Footnote: Or possibly two days.] the watchers on the walls of Syracuse descried a great fleet on the northern horizon. Presently the regular beat of ten thousand oars could be distinctly heard; it grew louder and louder, and as the vanguard came into full view, the alarmed Syracusans recognized the truth. There was no mistaking the peculiar build and familiar ensigns of the renowned Athenian galleys. This could be no other than the fleet of Demosthenes, arrived just in time to save the shattered armament of Nicias, and once more turn the tide of war against Syracuse. A great multitude rushed to the battlements, and gazed with keen pangs of anxiety as the long line of triremes, seventy-three in number, swept past the walls of Ortygia, rounded the southern point, and crossing the Great Harbour, dropped anchor at the naval station of Nicias. If anyone not concerned in the struggle had been present, he might have admired the grand exhibition of military pomp and power, the perfect trim and condition of the triremes, the precision of the rowing, and the glittering ranks of the hoplites, javelin-men, archers, and slingers, who thronged the decks. But no such feeling could find room in the minds of the Syracusans. After their long trials and sufferings, on the very eve of their crowning triumph, a new host of enemies had sprung up against them, and all their toils were beginning anew.

IX