The historians' history of the world in twenty-five volumes, volume 03

by Unknown

The history of this war has been preserved to posterity in far greater detail than has the history of any preceding conflict anywhere in the world. The Athenian general Thucydides, who himself took an active part in the earlier stages of the war, commanding forces in the field until finally he suffered the displeasure of the Athenians, determined from the outset, as he himself tells us, to write a complete history of the conflict which he believed would be the most memorable of all in the annals of history. The work which he produced has probably been more widely celebrated and more universally applauded than any other piece of historical composition that was ever written. All manner of extravagant things have been said about it. Every one has heard, for example, of Macaulay’s saying that he felt he might perhaps equal any other piece of historical writing that had ever been done except the seventh book of Thucydides, before which he felt himself helpless. This eulogy is of a piece with much more that has been said in similar kind by a multitude of other critics. It has even been alleged that no historian of a later period has ever dealt out such impartial judgment as is to be found in the pages of Thucydides. Seemingly forgetful of the meaning of words, critics have even assured us that no period of like extent of the world’s history, ancient or modern, is so fully known to us as this period of the Peloponnesian War through the history of Thucydides.

To any one, who himself will take up the history of Thucydides, either in the original or in such a translation as the admirable one of Dale, two things will at once be apparent; in the first place it will not long be open to doubt, to any one who is familiar with the literature of antiquity, that this work of Thucydides, considered in relation to the time in which it was written, is really an extraordinary production; but, in the second place, it will be equally clear that if we are to consider the work not in comparison with the writings of ancient authors but as a part of world-literature, then much that has been said of it must be regarded as fulsome eulogy.

To say that this work covers the period of the Peloponnesian War as no modern period of history has been covered; to say that no modern historian has dealt with his topic with the calm impartiality of Thucydides; to say that no writer can hope to produce an historical narrative comparable to the seventh book, or to any other book, of Thucydides—to say such things as these is to abandon the broad impartial view from which alone criticism worthy of the name is possible, and to come under the spell of other minds. The History of the Peloponnesian War is a great book; as an historical composition it is one of the greatest ever written: but when one has said that one has said enough. Its style, by common consent, is not such as to make it a model, and its matter is very largely the recital of bald facts with evidence of an insight into the political motives beneath the surface, which seems extraordinary only because the predecessors of Thucydides and some of his successors had seemed so woefully to lack such insight. As to the impartiality of the narrative, we must not overlook the significance of Professor Mahaffy’s remark, that for most of the period covered in the history of Thucydides this history itself is our sole authority. That it does, nevertheless, evince a high degree of impartiality and a broad sweep of intellect on the part of its author will not be questioned; but Professor Mahaffy makes an estimate, which no one who is not fully under the spell of antiquity would think of disputing, when he asserts his belief that such modern historians as, for example, Thirlwall, must be accredited with at least as high a degree of impartiality as Thucydides can claim.

But all this must not be taken as in any sense denying that the work of Thucydides is a marvellous production. Considering the time when it was written, and that its author was a participant in many of the events which he describes, it is astonishing that his work should be measurably free from partiality. That it is so was, perhaps, at least in some measure, due to the fact that Thucydides was banished from Athens, and hence wrote his history not so much from the Athenian standpoint, as from the standpoint of a man without a country, who was at enmity with both Spartans and Athenians. But, partial or impartial, the history of Thucydides remains, and presumably must always remain, the sole contemporary record open to posterity of that great struggle through which Greece, as it were, voluntarily threw away her prestige and her power.

Thucydides, to be sure, did not complete his history of the war, or, if he did, his later chapters have not been preserved to us. The former supposition is doubtless the correct one, because the thread of the narrative, which Thucydides dropped so abruptly, was taken up by Xenophon, also a contemporary. It was a not unusual custom among the ancient authors to write important works as explicit continuations of the works of other writers. Xenophon’s narrative of the events of the later years of the Peloponnesian War is such a work. Like the history of Thucydides it is practically our sole authority for the period that it covers, but, by common consent of critics, it takes a much lower level than the work which it supplements.

Xenophon was also an exile from Athens; but he differed from Thucydides in being an ardent friend of Sparta, and his prejudices are well known to readers of his works. One must suppose, however, that the favourite pupil of Socrates may be depended upon for reasonable impartiality when he deals with matters of fact. But, be this as it may, it is Xenophon, and Xenophon alone, who tells us most that we know at first hand, not alone of the closing years of the Peloponnesian War, but of many in the period succeeding. We shall constantly support our narrative of the events of this period, therefore, by references to the pages of Xenophon, as well as to those of Thucydides.[a]

THE ORIGIN OF THE WAR

Even before the recent hostilities at Corcyra and Potidæa, it had been evident to reflecting Greeks that prolonged observance of the Thirty Years’ Truce was becoming uncertain, and that the mingled hatred, fear, and admiration which Athens inspired throughout Greece would prompt Sparta and the Spartan confederacy to seize any favourable opening for breaking down the Athenian power. That such was the disposition of Sparta was well understood among the Athenian allies, however considerations of prudence and general slowness in resolving might postpone the moment of carrying it into effect. Accordingly not only the Samians when they revolted had applied to the Spartan confederacy for aid, which they appear to have been prevented from obtaining chiefly by the pacific interests then animating the Corinthians—but also the Lesbians had endeavoured to open negotiations with Sparta for a similar purpose, though the authorities to whom alone the proposition could have been communicated, since it long remained secret and was never executed—had given them no encouragement.

The affairs of Athens had been administered, under the ascendency of Pericles, without any view to extension of empire or encroachment upon others, though with constant reference to the probabilities of war, and with anxiety to keep the city in a condition to meet it. But even the splendid internal ornaments, which Athens at that time acquired, were probably not without their effect in provoking jealousy on the part of other Greeks as to her ultimate views. The only known incident, wherein Athens had been brought into collision with a member of the Spartan confederacy prior to the Corcyræan dispute, was her decree passed in regard to Megara, prohibiting the Megarians, on pain of death, from all trade or intercourse as well with Athens as with all ports within the Athenian empire. This prohibition was grounded on the alleged fact, that the Megarians had harboured runaway slaves from Athens, and had appropriated and cultivated portions of land upon her border; partly land, the property of the goddesses of Eleusis; partly a strip of territory disputed between the two states, and therefore left by mutual understanding in common pasture without any permanent enclosure. In reference to this latter point, the Athenian herald Anthemocritus had been sent to Megara to remonstrate, but had been so rudely dealt with, that his death shortly afterwards was imputed to the Megarians. We may reasonably suppose that ever since the revolt of Megara fourteen years before—which caused to Athens an irreparable mischief—the feeling prevalent between the two cities had been one of bitter enmity, manifesting itself in many ways, but so much exasperated by recent events as to provoke Athens to a signal revenge. Exclusion from Athens and all the ports in her empire, comprising nearly every island and seaport in the Ægean, was so ruinous to the Megarians, that they loudly complained of it at Sparta, representing it as an infraction of the Thirty Years’ Truce; though it was undoubtedly within the legitimate right of Athens to enforce, and was even less harsh than the systematic expulsion of foreigners by Sparta, with which Pericles compared it.