Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 56, Number 348

by Various

We must refer the reader to M. Thierry’s work for the account of the causes which led the Gauls and Kimry to press upon, and finally invade northern Greece, and the relation of the defeat of their first attack under the Brenn. We shall dwell somewhat longer on their second invasion, which forms one of the most interesting episodes of their history:—

“In the year 280 B.C., the Gauls, under a celebrated chief whose title was the Brenn, prepared to invade Greece. Their army, composed of various tribes of Gauls and Kimry, amounted to 152,000 infantry and 61,000 cavalry. When this immense array reached the frontiers of Macedonia, a division broke out amongst their chiefs, and 20,000 men, detaching themselves from the main army, advanced into Thrace. The remainder, under the Brenn, precipitated themselves on Macedonia, routed the army which endeavoured to arrest their progress, and forced the remnant of the regular forces who survived, to take refuge in the fortified cities. During six months they ravaged with fire and sword the open country, and destroyed the unfortified towns of Macedonia and Thessaly. At the approach of winter, the Brenn collected his forces and established his camp in Thessaly, at a position near Mount Olympus. Thessaly is separated from Epirus and Ætolia by the chain of Pindus; and on the south, the almost impenetrable range of Mount Œta divides it from the provinces of Hellas. The only pass by which an army can march into Greece is that of Thermopylæ, which is a long narrow defile, overhung on the right by the rocks of Mount Œta, and flanked on the left by impassable morasses, which finally lose themselves in the waters of the gulf of Mulia. A few narrow and difficult tracts traverse the ridge of Œta; but these, though passable to a small body of infantry, present insurmountable obstacles to the advance of an army. To the pass of Thermopylæ, in the spring of the year 280 B.C., the Brenn directed his march. Aware of its vital importance, the Athenians, Bœotians, Locrians, Phocians, and Megarians, who had formed a league against the northern invaders, collected a force of about 26,000 men, who, under the orders of Calippus, advanced to and occupied the strait, whilst 305 Athenian galleys, anchored in the bay of Mulia, were ready to operate upon the flank of the enemy. In his approach to this position, the Brenn had to pass the river Sperchius, to defend which Calippus had detached a small force: the Brenn, by a stratagem, directed their attention from the real point of attack, and crossed the river without loss. He then advanced to Heraclea, and laid waste the surrounding country. The day after his arrival at this place, he marched upon Thermopylæ. Hardly had the Gauls begun to involve themselves in the pass, when they were encountered by the Greeks in its classic defile. With loud cries, and in one enormous mass, the Gauls rushed impetuously on; in silence, and in perfect order, the Greeks advanced to the charge. The phalanx of the south proved impenetrable to the sabre of the north; the pass was soon covered with their dead bodies; the Gallic standards were unable to advance. Meanwhile the Athenian galleys, forcing their way through the marshes, poured in an incessant volley of arrows and darts on the long and unprotected flank of the invaders. Unable to withstand this double attack, the Gauls were forced to retreat. This they did in the utmost confusion; large numbers perished, trodden to death by their companions—still more were drowned in the morasses. Seven days after this severe check, a small party having attempted to cross Mount Œta, they were attacked when involved in a narrow and difficult pass, and cut to pieces. To raise the drooping spirits of his men, and to separate the forces of his adversaries, the Brenn detached a corps of 40,000 men, under the command of Comlutis, with orders to force their way into Ætolia. This diversion proved eminently successful. Comlutis, finding the passes of Mount Pindus unguarded, traversed that range, and entered Ætolia, the whole of which he laid waste with fire and sword without opposition, as the whole military force of that country had marched to the defence of Thermopylæ. On hearing of this invasion, the Ætolians immediately separated from the allied army, and hastened to the defence of their country. On their approach Comlutis retreated; but whilst involved in the mountain passes, his rear was overtaken by the regulars, and his flanks were assailed by the enraged peasantry; so severe was his loss, that hardly one-half of his force rallied at the camp of Heraclea. The day after the departure of the Ætolians, the Brenn led on the main body of his troops to attack the pass of Thermopylæ; whilst a strong detachment received orders to force one of the mountain paths, the knowledge of which had been betrayed to him by the inhabitants; being guided by one of whom, and their movements being concealed from view by a thick mist, which enveloped them, this detachment succeeded in surprising the troops who were entrusted with its defence, and, moving rapidly on, they fell on the rear of the main body of the allies, who were engaged at Thermopylæ. Assaulted both in front and rear, the Greeks would have been totally destroyed, had it not been for the presence of the Athenian fleet, who afforded a safe refuge to their shattered ranks. Freed from the presence of his opponents, the Brenn immediately pushed on to Elatia at the head of 65,000 men, from whence he directed his march on Delphi. The town of Delphi was built on the slope of one of the peaks of Parnassus, in the midst of a natural excavation, and being almost entirely surrounded with precipices, it was left unprotected by any artificial fortifications: above the town, on the north, was situated the magnificent temple of Apollo, filled with native offerings of the Greeks. The possession of this treasure was the main object of the Brenn. The Gaulish army, on their arrival before Delphi, dispersed over, and pillaged the surrounding country for the remainder of the day; thus losing the most favourable opportunity of assaulting the town.”

The dénouement of the tragedy we shall give in Thierry’s own words:—

“During the night, Delphi received from all sides, by the mountain paths, numerous reinforcements from the neighbouring people. There arrived successively 1200 well-armed Ætolians, 400 heavy-armed men from Amplussa, and a detachment of Phocians, who, with the citizens of Delphi, formed a body of 4000 men. At the same time, they learned that the brave Ætolian army, after having defeated Comlutis, had retaken the road to Elatia, and, increased by bands of the Phocians and Bœotians, laboured to prevent the junction of the Gaulish army of Heraclea with the division which besieged Delphi.

“During the same night, the camp of the Gauls was the theatre of the greatest debauchery; and when day dawned, the greater portion of them were still intoxicated: nevertheless, it was necessary to make the assault without loss of time, for the Brenn already perceived how much the delay of a few hours had cost him. He drew out his troops then in battle array, enumerating to them anew all the treasures which they had before their eyes, and those which awaited them in the temple: he then gave the signal for the escalade. The attack was vigorous, and was sustained by the Greeks with firmness. From the summit of the narrow and steep slope by which the assailants had to ascend in order to approach the town, the besieged poured down a multitude of arrows and stones, not one of which fell harmless. Several times the Gauls covered the ascent with their dead; but every time they returned to the charge with courage, and at last forced the passage. The besieged, obliged to beat a retreat, withdrew to the nearest streets of the town, leaving the approach which conducted to the temple free: the Gaulish race rushed on: soon the whole multitude was occupied in pillaging the oratories which adjoined the temple, and, in fine, the temple itself.

“It was then autumn, and during the combat one of those sudden storms so frequent in the lofty chains of Hellas had gathered; suddenly it burst, discharging on the mountain torrents of rain and hail. The priests attached to the temple of Apollo, seized upon an incident so fitted to strike the superstitious spirit of the Greeks. With haggard eyes, with disheveled locks, with frenzied minds, they spread out through the town, and through the ranks of the army, crying that the god had arrived. ‘He is here!’ said they; ‘we have seen him pass across the vault of the temple, which is cloven beneath his feet; two armed virgins, Minerva and Diana, accompany him. We have heard the whistling of their bows, and the clang of their lances. Hasten, O Greeks! upon the steps of your gods, if you wish to partake of their victory!’ That spectacle, those exhortations pronounced amidst the rolling of the thunder, and by the glare of the lightning, filled the Hellenes with a supernatural enthusiasm; they reformed in battle array, and precipitated themselves sword in hand upon the enemy. The same circumstances operated not less strongly, but in a contrary way, upon the victorious bands; the Gauls believed that they recognised the power of a divinity, but of an enraged divinity. The thunderbolts had frequently struck their battalions, and its reports, repeated by the echoes, produced around them such a reverberation, that they no longer heard the commands of their chiefs. Those who penetrated into the interior of the temple, had felt the pavement tremble under their steps; they had been seized by a thick and mephitic vapour, which overpowered them, and threw them into a violent delirium. The historians relate, that amidst this tumult they beheld three warriors of a sinister aspect, of more than human stature, covered with old armour, and who slaughtered the Gauls with their lances, appear. The Delphians recognised, say they, the shades of three heroes, Hyperochus and Zorodocus, whose tombs adjoined the temple, and Pyrrhus the son of Achilles. As to the Gauls, a wild panic hurried them in disorder to their camp, which they attained only with great difficulty, overwhelmed by the arrows of the Greeks, and by the fall of enormous rocks, which rolled over upon them from the summit of Parnassus. In the ranks of the besiegers, the loss was doubtless considerable.

“To that disastrous day succeeded, for the Kimry-Gauls, a night not less terrible; the cold was excessive, and snow fell in abundance; besides, fragments of rock falling incessantly in their camp, which was situated too near the mountain, crushed the soldiers not by one or two at a time, but by bodies of thirty and forty, as often as they assembled to maintain guard or to seek repose. The sun no sooner rose, than the Greeks who were within the town made a vigorous sally, whilst those who were in the country fell upon the rear of the enemy. At the same time, the Phocians, crossing the snow by paths known but to themselves, took them in flank, and assailed them with arrows and stones, without exposing themselves to the slightest danger. Hemmed in on all sides, discouraged, and, moreover, extremely incommoded by the cold, which had cut off many of their number during the night, the Gauls began to yield. They were sustained for some time by the intrepidity of the chosen band who combated around the Brenn, and acted as his guard. The strength, the stature, the courage of that guard, struck the Greeks with astonishment. In the end, the Brenn having been dangerously wounded, those brave men dreamed only of making a rampart of their bodies for him, and of carrying him from the field. The chiefs then gave the signal of retreat, and to prevent the wounded from falling into the hands of the enemy, they caused those who were not in a condition to follow, to be put to death. The army halted when the night overtook it.

“The first watch of that second night had hardly commenced, when the soldiers who were on guard imagined that they heard the tumult of a night march, and the distant tramp of horses. The darkness, already profound, did not permit them to discover their mistake; they gave the alarm, and cried out that they were surprised—that the enemy was upon them. The famine, the dangers, and the extraordinary occurrences which had befallen them during the last two days, had much shattered all their imaginations. At that cry, ‘The enemy is at hand!’ the Gauls, suddenly aroused, seized their arms, and believing the camp already entered, they threw themselves upon, and mutually slaughtered, each other. Their consternation was so great, that they believed that each word which struck their ears was uttered in Greek; as if they had forgotten their own proper tongue. Besides, the darkness of the night did not permit them either to recognise each other, or to distinguish the shape of their bucklers. Day put an end to that frightful mêlée; but during the night the Phocian shepherds, who remained in the fields to watch their flocks, ran to inform the Greeks of the disorder which was evident in the Gaulish camp. They attributed so unexpected an event to the intervention of the god Pan, from whom, according to the religious faith of the Greeks, alarms without any real cause proceeded; full of ardour and of confidence, they attacked the rearguard of the enemy. The Gauls had already resumed their march, but with languor, as men discouraged, worn out by diseases, famine, and fatigue. On their line of march the population carried off the cattle and provisions, so that they could not procure any subsistence without the utmost difficulty, and at the point of the sword. The historians reckon at 10,000 the number of those who sank under these misfortunes; the cold and the nocturnal combat had cut off as many more, and 6000 had perished at the assault of Delphi: there remained then to the Brenn no more than 35,000 men when he rejoined the main body of his army, in the plains watered by the Cephisus, on the day after his departure from Thermopylæ.”—(I. 171-178.)

The Brenn, overwhelmed with grief at his misfortune, no sooner saw his army free from immediate danger than he put himself to death. His successor, following his dying advice, slaughtered 10,000 of the wounded, and continued his retreat:—

“As he approached Thermopylæ, the Greeks, issuing forth from an ambuscade, threw themselves on his rearguard, which they cut to pieces. It was in this miserable state that the Gauls gained the camp of Heraclea. They remained there for a few days before setting out on their northward route. All the bridges of the Sperchius had been broken down, and the left bank of the river was occupied by the Thessalians, who had collected en masse; nevertheless, the Gaulish army forced a passage. It was in the midst of a population all armed, and thirsting for vengeance, that they traversed, from one extremity to the other, Thessaly and Macedonia, exposed to perils, to sufferings, to privations, daily increasing, combating without intermission during the day, and at night having no other shelter than a cold and watery sky. They gained at last the northern frontier of Macedonia. There the distribution of the body took place: afterwards the Kimry-Gauls divided into many bands; some returned to their country, others sought in different directions new food for their turbulent activity.”—(I. 180.)