CHAPTER
X
I.
DIONYSIUS
THE SECOND
ON the death
of Dionysius I in the spring of 367 his empire passed to his eldest son, who
bore his name. The succession met with no opposition from the people of
Syracuse and of other cities: what danger there was lay within the ruling house
itself. We are told that, when Dionysius seemed likely to die, Dion, the
husband of his daughter Arete and brother of his wife Aristomache, tried to
influence Dionysius to designate as his successors Hipparinus and Nysaeus, the children of Dionysius and
Aristomache. These were probably not yet of age, and, if Dion had had his way,
the power would doubtless have remained in his own hands. But the
court-physicians denied him access to Dionysius’ sick-bed, and are said to have
hastened the tyrant’s end in order to ingratiate themselves with the heir. This
story, however, is very likely groundless and invented some years later, after
the younger Dionysius had quarrelled with Dion. If he had already shown himself
disaffected in this way, it is improbable that the new ruler would have kept
him in the position of a trusted minister, as he did for some months.
Dionysius II
kept his power for ten years; but unfortunately the record of his actions
during those years has almost completely vanished. We possess one or two scraps
of information about his foreign and domestic policy and some general remarks
on his character. But all that we know in any detail about his rule is the
manner in which he lost it. In fact what we possess is really an account of the
exploits of Dion, who overthrew him. The account exists partly in the
biographies written by Plutarch and Nepos, partly in the history of Diodorus.
It is in no way surprising that we should have these biographies, for Dion
lived for nine years in Greece, where he became a well-known figure and in
particular formed a close connection with the Platonic Academy, whose members
did much to preserve his memory. What is more curious and disappointing is that
the account of Diodorus hardly adds anything, and is written from the same
standpoint; the Sicilian historian has scarcely a word to say of events in
Sicily between the exile of Dion, which seems to have occurred little more than
a year after Dionysius’ accession, and his return in the guise of liberator in
357 BC. If, as we must suppose, he found nothing of interest to extract from
Timaeus’ record of these years, the inference is that they were in the main
peaceful and uneventful.
What we are
told of the character and actions of Dionysius confirms this. He was weak,
dissolute, and unenterprising; in the eyes of Plato and the Academy he was
crafty and treacherous, and utterly belied the fair hopes which they had
conceived of him. Rigidly debarred during his father’s lifetime from playing
any part in affairs, he had taken up carpentry as a hobby; and on coming into
power when less than thirty years of age his policy, so far as he had one, was
to preserve and enjoy his inheritance. Peace was soon made with Carthage on the
basis of the status quo, later also with the Lucanians after a war which had
dragged on indecisively for some months. Two colonies were founded on the coast
of Apulia, to protect the commerce of the southern Adriatic from pirates;
Rhegium was restored under the name of Phoebia, and Tauromenium received as an addition to its mixed population
the Naxians expelled by the elder Dionysius. This
last act is described by Diodorus, who assigns it to the year 358—7, as being
wholly the work of an eminent and wealthy citizen, Andromachus,
father of the historian Timaeus; but it is plain that filial piety has
exaggerated and that the new settlement was an act of the Syracusan state, that
is to say, of the tyrant. We also hear of the return of political exiles and
the remission of taxation. All these acts are best interpreted as measures
designed to increase the tyrant’s security and popularity. For a time they were
successful; but we may believe that throughout these ten years hatred of the
tyranny smouldered in the breasts of the Syracusans and the subjects of other
Sicilian cities that had once been proud of freedom. The power of the elder
Dionysius had been tolerated so long principally because he was a conqueror and
a champion against the Punic foe; now that the danger from Carthage seemed at
an end, the hatred of tyranny revived. Hence when a liberator, real or
pretended, appeared in the person of a member of the tyrant’s own family, he
was welcomed with boundless enthusiasm, and his intentions were for the moment
unquestioned.
When quite a
young man Dion had met Plato on the occasion of the philosopher’s first visit
to Sicily in 389—8, and an attachment had sprung up between the two men which
had not weakened twenty years later. Fired with enthusiasm for Plato’s
political ideas, Dion saw in the young Dionysius the possibility of fulfilling
that essential condition without which, as Plato had declared, his Republic
could not come into being: the king should turn philosopher. It was of course a
necessary antecedent to this conversion that the tyrant should turn king, that
is to say, constitutional monarch; and in this lay the real crux of the matter,
as the sequel was to show.
A pressing
invitation from the tyrant, seconded by Dion himself, could not well be refused
by Plato, ageing though he already was and reluctant to quit the professor’s
chair. If we may believe the evidence of the seventh Platonic letter, his
decision to go to. Syracuse was due not so much to any hopes of realizing
Dion’s aspirations as to his fear of being held untrue to his own philosophy.
There were passages in his writings which seemed to contemplate just such a
situation as had now arisen at Syracuse, if indeed Dion’s account of the
possibilities of reforming the young tyrant through education were true. Dion
did not minimize the need of such reform; but he represented that it was still
possible to remedy the evils due to the tyrant’s upbringing, and he had himself
begun to prepare the way. In truth Dionysius himself, who was athirst if not
for philosophy at all events for a philosophical reputation, was eager to have
Plato at his court; and for a time all seemed to go according to Dion’s plan.
In conformity with the regular Academic course the pupil was started on the
study of mathematics, and geometry became the fashion at court. To this no one
could object; but Plato’s ethical and political teaching was not so harmless.
We hear that on one occasion when sacrifice was being offered in the domestic
chapel and the customary prayer for the safe continuance of the tyranny was
recited, the tyrant, to the great consternation of his ministers, exclaimed
‘Stop cursing us’. Philosophy then, it seemed, meant the end of the tyranny and
the abasement of all who throve thereon. It is not surprising that Dion’s plan
aroused opponents, who prevailed upon the tyrant to recall from exile the
historian Philistus, who had for many years been living at Hadria.
Philistus, in
spite of his banishment, was still a strong supporter of the tyranny, which as
we have seen he had helped to create; he set himself deliberately to thwart and
discredit Dion. Rumours were spread that Dionysius was being induced to give up
power, which would be assumed by Dion himself as regent for his nephews, the
sons of Dionysius I and Aristomache; alarm was created by the suggestion that
the national safety was being endangered by plans for military and naval
disarmament. Finally a letter from Dion to the Carthaginian Government was
intercepted: the peace had not yet been concluded and Dion had written urging
that his own presence should be insisted upon at any peace conference. This
advice doubtless implied no disloyalty, but the letter was invaluable to
Philistus and his party, who convinced Dionysius that it meant that Dion was
treacherously promising to secure better terms for the enemy in order to
strengthen his position by foreign support. Without an opportunity of defence
Dion was at once expelled from Sicily, probably before the end of 366.
But though
expelled Dion was not yet openly disgraced. His friends and supporters were too
numerous to be disregarded, and they prevailed with the tyrant to allow Dion to
continue to enjoy the income from his estates, which were considerable, and to
forward his movable property to Greece. He was thus enabled to support a
magnificent establishment in Athens, which became his home for the next nine
years (366—57). He kept in close touch with the Academy, and was particularly
intimate with Speusippus its future head, to whom, on
his return to Sicily in 357, he left an estate which he had bought in Attica.
He also travelled to other cities, where his wealth and culture won him
numerous friends. Amongst other marks of esteem he received the most unusual
honour of Spartan citizenship, although Sparta was at this time in alliance
with Dionysius, who had in 365 sent a contingent to assist her against Thebes;
it is however possible that Plutarch has misdated this event, and that Dion had
received Spartan citizenship before his banishment, perhaps before the death of
the elder Dionysius.
The reports
which reached Syracuse of Dion’s mode of life soon began to arouse the tyrant’s
suspicions; not unnaturally the connections that he was continually forming
with prominent statesmen were interpreted as hostile to Dionysius. How far this
interpretation was just it is hard to say, but it does not seem probable that
Dion was from the first deliberately planning to recover his position by force
of arms; he was a man of many interests, and doubtless his association with the
Academy and with men of culture elsewhere was maintained for its own sake, and
not merely as a means of disguising political plans. But it was inevitable that
the sympathy and admiration so universally manifested towards the exile should
foster resentment at his injuries, and awaken in him a sense that he was called
to be the liberator of his countrymen; doubtless, too, these feelings were
accompanied by the desire for power. Meanwhile the conduct of Dionysius
constantly afforded further provocation; he postponed fulfilment of the
assurance given to Plato that Dion should be recalled, he held back the revenue
from Dion’s property and sold part of it, he proposed to find his wife Arete
another husband.
Plato, who
had remained for a while at the Syracusan court after Dion’s expulsion, had
been vainly endeavouring to act as mediator. The attitude of Dionysius to Plato
presents a curious mixture of sentiments: while admiring the philosopher, he
disliked and distrusted the friend of Dion; and although Plato was unable to
heal the ever-widening breach, yet his personal relationship to the two men had
the effect of postponing the inevitable conflict. Dionysius feared that if he
went to extremes in his treatment of Dion he would lose his hold on Plato, and
this he wished to avoid, principally from motives of personal vanity. He
believed himself proficient in philosophy, and it was his ambition to prove
himself so; he even went to the length of composing a sort of metaphysical
handbook purporting to give the substance of Plato’s doctrine.
Plato had
taken his measure after a very brief acquaintance; he knew that he had no real
capacity for philosophy, and that his professions in favour of political reform
were only the froth of an impulsive temperament; his sole reason for continuing
to maintain relations with Dionysius was the belief that he might contrive the
restoration of Dion. Hence, after one refusal, he was prevailed upon to make a
second visit to Syracuse, early in 361, accompanied by Speusippus and other members of the Academy. Dionysius sent a trireme to fetch him, and
when he arrived treated him at first with marked respect and deference. But he
found the Syracusan court, with its atmosphere of suspicion and intrigue and
its shallow culture, fully as uncongenial as he had expected. Particularly
distasteful must have been the presence of Aristippus, the so-called Socratic
who had twisted the teaching of his master into a theory of more or less
refined hedonism. Aristippus had gone to Syracuse frankly to get anything he
could out of a munificent patron of learning; he had found high favour with,
Dionysius, and now resented the higher favour accorded to Plato, whose refusal
of the tyrant’s bounties merely increased his rival’s jealousy. Plato was
unable even to raise the question of Dion’s recall, and his repeated attempts
to do so soon began to annoy Dionysius. The increasing estrangement was hailed
with delight by Aristippus and other rival philosophers at the court; it is
recorded that, when an eclipse of the sun had been predicted by Helicon of
Cyzicus, Aristippus remarked that he too had a prediction to make; and that, on
being asked what this was, he replied ‘I predict that there will soon be a
breach between Dionysius and Plato.’
Plato’s visit
was in fact quite useless, and in the end the wayward tyrant came to treat him
virtually as a prisoner; indeed it needed the intercession of Archytas, the
ruler of Tarentum, to procure his escape. Meanwhile Dionysius’ conduct towards
Dion had grown even more hostile: he sold the remainder of his property and
gave Arete in marriage to Timocrates. It must be
admitted that there were some grounds for this hostility. Speusippus had been sounding the populace, and predisposing them in Dion’s favour, while Heracleides, a friend of Dion who co-operated in his
subsequent enterprise, was suspected of engineering a mutiny of mercenaries
which occurred during Plato’s visit.
II.
THE
ENTERPRISE OF DION
By the summer
of 360 BC, when Plato met Dion at Olympia, it was clear, at least to Dion, that
no satisfaction could be procured save by an appeal to arms, and we may believe
Plutarch’s statement that it was now that Dion definitely contemplated this
course; the indignities to which the aged philosopher had been subjected
perhaps turned the scale. Speusippus, who had taken
pains to discover the sentiments of the Syracusans, had found them longing for
Dion to come as their deliverer. With the aid of Heracleides,
who had escaped arrest and fled from Sicily, Dion now set about collecting
mercenaries, but it is probable that he found this a more difficult task than
he had anticipated: he got together a force of 3000, and took three years in
doing so. It was not until August 357 that the expedition was ready to sail;
only 1500 accompanied Dion, the rest being left to follow later with Heracleides: the reason no doubt lay in difficulties of
commissariat. Several prominent members of the Academy accompanied the force,
but Plato himself held aloof, feeling perhaps that a private quarrel did not
justify the spilling of Syracusan blood.
The
destination had been kept secret: it was not until the last moment that the
troops, at their rendezvous on the island of Zacynthus, learnt against whom
they were to serve. Their dismay at the discovery was not unnatural, and they
were only with difficulty reassured by being told that the whole Syracusan
population was ready to rise, and that they themselves would be used mainly as officers.
The enemy,
however, was well informed. Philistus, the admiral of Dionysius, was cruising
off the coast of Iapygia, ready to intercept Dion,
whom he expected to take the ordinary route across the Adriatic and down the
coast of Italy. Dion, however, wisely sailed direct to Sicily, and after a
hazardous voyage landed at Heraclea Minoa, the Carthaginian outpost on the
south coast. The resistance offered by the garrison was only nominal: Dion,
doubtless, had an understanding with its Greek commander. After a short rest
the troops started for Syracuse, leaving behind their surplus baggage and arms.
Dion had counted upon greatly increasing his numbers on the march, and his
expectations were amply fulfilled. Volunteers flocked to his standards from Acragas, Gela, and Camarina; Sicels too and Sicans, even it is
said men from Messana and the cities of Italy; their
number it is impossible to give, for Plutarch represents that on the way to
Syracuse the original force had been increased by no more than 5000 recruits,
while Diodorus makes them as many as 50,000; it is plain that nothing
approaching the latter number could have been equipped, but Plutarch perhaps
underestimates in order to heighten the glory of his hero’s achievement.
As they drew
nearer Syracuse the inhabitants of the rural districts added their quotas. The
last halt was made at the old Syracusan outpost of Acrae,
about twenty miles west of the city. While encamped there, Dion received a
welcome piece of news: the Campanian mercenaries, drawn from Aetna and
Leontini, who guarded the fort of Euryalus had quitted their post, owing to a
rumour spread by Dion’s agents to the effect that his first objects of attack
would be their own two cities. Dion was now able to enter Syracuse without
opposition, amidst the acclamations of the citizens who welcomed their
deliverer with divine honours. Only the Island fortress was held by the troops
of Dionysius; the tyrant himself chanced to be absent on a visit to his Italian
colony of Caulonia, and a despatch sent to him by Timocrates, whom he had left behind as his deputy, had
miscarried, so that it was not until six days later that he returned to
Ortygia. Timocrates meanwhile, after vainly
attempting to prevent the desertion of the Campanians on Epipolae, had found it
impossible to rejoin the garrison and had fled.
The festal
entry culminated in a mass meeting of the liberated populace in front of the
five gates which gave access to the Island from Achradina.
Taking his stand on the sundial which Dionysius had erected on this spot, Dion
harangued the assembly, exhorting them to grasp their liberty and select their
leaders. The first cries were for Dion himself and his brother Megacles to act under the title of ‘generals with full
power’; such, in fact, was the faith of the masses that they had no hesitation
in conferring on the liberators the office which had clothed the tyranny with a
semblance of constitutional authority. But Dion was unwilling to accept a
position which would in effect concentrate all power in his own single person;
and his refusal must surely be interpreted as evidence that he had not
returned, as some have supposed, simply to expel Dionysius and take his place.
As a convinced adherent of Plato he could tolerate neither tyranny nor
democracy; the alternatives were constitutional monarchy and aristocracy, and
it is probable that the ‘freedom’ which he had come to win for Syracuse was
intended ultimately to take the form of an aristocratic constitution. But he
must have realized that for the present executive power must remain in the
hands of a few persons upon whom he could rely. It was therefore arranged that,
in addition to Dion and Megacles, twenty generals
should be appointed, of whom ten were selected from the fellow-exiles of Dion
who had returned with him; who the other ten were we are not told. No doubt the
whole twenty were in fact selected by Dion himself rather than by the massed
citizens. How far Dion really meant them to have a share in the government it
is impossible to say: but they appear in the event to have been mere ciphers.
So far
everything had been easy; but from the military point of view Dion’s task was
as yet hardly begun. The freedom of Syracuse was wholly illusory so long as
Dionysius held the Island with his mercenaries and the sea with his fleet.
Dion’s first measure was to build a wall from the greater to the lesser
harbour, barring off the Island from the rest of the city. Plainly, defensive
action alone was possible on land: the only chance of defeating Dionysius
effectively was by sea, and for this Dion had to wait until Heracleides should arrive with the second force. During the winter the Syracusans were
active in building triremes, of which they had as many as 60 at their disposal
in the sea-fight which ensued in the summer of 356.
Meanwhile
Dion’s difficulties were increasing. After the first outburst of enthusiasm his
popularity rapidly waned: an aristocrat in behaviour, he lacked the arts of the
popular leader, nor did he care to acquire them; the necessities of defence
compelled him to act arbitrarily, to disregard his nominal colleagues, in fact
to act to all intents and purposes as a tyrant. In these circumstances
Dionysius was quick to seize every opportunity to increase his enemy’s
unpopularity. He first tried secret negotiations with Dion personally instead
of with the Syracusan people, intending no doubt to repudiate his proposals
after Dion had compromised himself by replying to them; but in this he was
foiled, as Dion told him to address himself to the people; in other words, to
make his proposals public. The tyrant’s next trick was to send a letter
purporting to come from Dion’s son, in which he reminded Dion of his zealous
services on behalf of tyranny, and suggested that it would be wiser for him to
assume the tyranny now himself rather than abolish it: only so would he be safe
from the vengeance of those who remembered him as the prop of tyrants. The
contents of this clever document somehow became known to the populace, as was
of course intended by the writer, and convinced many that the deliverer was
playing false. To supplement propaganda by force, an attack was launched on
Dion’s cross-wall, but was repulsed after sharp fighting in which Dion himself
was wounded and showed conspicuous bravery.
It was at this
moment that Heracleides arrived with his ships. His
arrival was a great encouragement to the Syracusans, but a considerable
embarrassment for Dion, whose opponents found Heracleides very ready to side with them. He accepted from the assembly nomination as
admiral, but Dion insisted that this appointment was an infringement of his own
position as ‘general with full powers’; we hear nothing at this point of Dion’s
twenty colleagues. In his contention Dion had precedent to go upon, for under
the regime of the elder Dionysius the office of admiral had undoubtedly been
subordinate to that of the General from whom he received the appointment. The
precedent was indeed the precedent of tyranny, yet Dion can hardly be blamed
for resisting a measure which was plainly designed to undermine his position.
Another assembly was convened in which Dion himself appointed Heracleides to the command at sea; in truth he had no
choice but to do so, for the warships were already under Heracleides’
orders.
In the naval
battle which ensued in the early summer of 356 a decisive victory was won by
the patriots; the ship of the enemy admiral Philistus was captured, and in his
despair the aged warrior took his own life. The virulence of hatred which made
civil warfare so horrible in Syracuse, as indeed in all Greek cities, is
brought home to us when we read how the corpse was subjected to outrage and
mutilation; such conduct was unhappily very common throughout antiquity, but it
comes as something of a shock to find the gentle and philosophical Plutarch
remarking that it was ‘perhaps pardonable’ that those who had been wronged by
Philistus should thus exact their vengeance.
Dionysius had
suffered a severe blow. Not only had he lost a capable and trusty servant, but,
what was even more serious, he had lost the command at sea and therewith the
possibility of indefinitely sustaining the siege. He therefore offered to
surrender the Island, together with his mercenaries and munitions, on condition
that he should be allowed to retire to Italy in the enjoyment of the revenues
from his private estate in Syracusan territory. This offer was however refused.
Dionysius now cared for little but his personal safety, and contrived to get
away by sea with a few friends and some of his possessions; he reached Locri,
eluding the vigilance of Heracleides’ fleet, and left
his son Apollocrates to hold the Island. A storm of
indignation burst upon Heracleides for his
negligence, and in order to save himself he lent his sanction to the demands of
the extremists amongst the opponents of Dion, the doctrinaire republicans who
clamoured for equality—by which they meant a redistribution of land—as the
complement of liberty. With the support of Heracleides this measure was carried in the assembly, and further it was decided to
discontinue the pay of Dion’s mercenaries, and to elect new generals in place
of the existing nominees of Dion. Thus was the liberator’s advice to the people
to grasp their liberty accepted in full measure. The reaction from despotism is
apt to be violent: to the newly freed, liberty may mean anarchy. So Dion had
found to his cost. He had no choice but to withdraw from Syracuse with his
mercenaries, to the number of more than 3000. They came to Leontini, where Dion
was received with honour and the soldiers were given citizen rights.
The garrison
of Ortygia had by this time almost exhausted its provisions and had begun
negotiations for surrender, when an unexpected relief appeared. Dionysius, who
perhaps saw a chance of recovering his position now that Dion was gone, had
contrived to secure a body of mercenaries, under the command of one Nypsius, a Campanian soldier of fortune. These were
dispatched to Syracuse together with food and money for the starving garrison,
and were accompanied by some triremes, sufficient in number to have a chance of
coping with the Syracusan ships guarding the entrance to the harbour. The
arrival of this force was a complete surprise to Heracleides and his colleagues, and men and stores were landed without opposition. The Syracusan
admiral, anxious to atone for his negligence, went out to give battle; four of
the enemy’s triremes were captured, and in exultation over this success the
whole population gave itself up to revelry. Discipline under the regime of the
triumphant democrats was despised, and danger disregarded. In the night that
followed, Nypsius’ men carried Dion’s wall and were
let loose upon the city, sacking, plundering and murdering. In their extremity
the miserable Syracusans had no choice but to send a deputation to Leontini, to
implore aid from the men whom they had driven out. And they did not plead in
vain. Dion and his 3000 men came back; we are told that they came slowly, that
their advance was delayed by fresh messages from Syracuse. Nypsius had called back his troops to the Island at nightfall, and the democratic
leaders, imagining that the worst was over, repented of their haste in agreeing
to call upon Dion, whose attitude towards themselves they might well expect to
be pitiless. It needed a second night of terror to convince them that it was
better to trust to the doubtful mercies of a fellow-citizen than to abandon
themselves, their women and children and all that they had, to the savagery of
blood-thirsty barbarians. How great was the havoc wrought by fire and sword on
that second night we cannot say, but we know that Nypsius,
acting presumably on orders from Dionysius anticipating such a situation, sent
forth his men not to conquer or to capture, but to burn and kill. It is to be
supposed that some quarters of the city, probably Upper Achradina and Epipolae, escaped, and that some of the population in the lower town fled
thither; otherwise there would have been none for Dion to save. On the third
day the brother and uncle of Heracleides, who himself
was wounded, appeared as suppliants before Dion, now eight miles distant; in
hot haste Dion advanced at the head of his men and re-entered the burning city;
through blood and fire and the masses of dead lying in the streets they fought
their way, and at last overpowered the enemy, most of whom, however, escaped
into their fortress.
It might have
been expected that the position of Dion, now that he had rescued Syracuse a
second time, would be secure, and that his democratic opponents would be
permanently silenced. His biographers fail to give any adequate explanation why
this was not so; but it seems plain that the leniency which he displayed on the
morrow of the victory was a grave error of judgment. All the prominent
demagogues had taken to flight except Heracleides and Theodotes, and Dion would have been amply justified
in executing these two, as his friends advised, or at the least in expelling
them from Sicily.
The beau geste of a free pardon was certain, as he might have
realized, to have deplorable results. It was interpreted, naturally, as a sign
of weakness, as in fact it was; but if we are surprised at this action it is
indeed amazing to find Dion soon afterwards consenting to the restoration or
continuance of Heracleides’ command at sea. We can
hardly believe that Dion still preserved any faith in Heracleides,
nor that a desire to conciliate the popular party could by itself have induced
him to consent to the appointment. The probability is that the crews of the
triremes were masters of the situation, and would tolerate no other commander:
they had presumably not suffered like the townsfolk in the recent sack of
Syracuse. While he gave way on this point, Dion insisted on the repeal of the
popular decree for redistribution of land; and the odium which this aroused was
sufficient to encourage Heracleides to resume his
machinations.
The relations
of Dion and Heracleides were now complicated by the
momentary appearance of two enigmatic figures from Sparta, Pharax and Gaesylus who, perhaps in Dionysius’ interest,
sought to use against Dion the prestige of Sparta. The only result of their
intervention was that Heracleides, who had intrigued
with them in turn, was once more discomfited, and that Dion now felt strong
enough to insist on demobilizing the crews of the triremes, probably
immediately after the capitulation of Apollocrates in
355. The son of Dionysius was at length starved out and his mercenaries were
mutinying: he was allowed to depart with five triremes, but surrendered all his
munitions and equipment.
Even now,
when the deliverance from tyranny was completed, the dissensions amongst the
Syracusan population continued with melancholy persistence and wearisome
reiteration. Dion still fails to conciliate his opponents, and seeks advice and
support from Corinth in his endeavour to establish his aristocratic
constitution; Heracleides still intrigues until at
last Dion connives at his assassination. According to the account of Nepos,
financial difficulties forced him to impose heavy taxes upon the richer citizens,
and consequently he lost their support. In the end he was murdered, in June
354, as the result of a plot devised by his former friend of the Platonic
Academy, Callippus.
Dion had
failed, as he himself fully realized before the end. His connivance at the
murder of Heracleides was the act of one
disillusioned and half distraught. Considering the provocation that he had
suffered, we cannot blame him overmuch; but the action was fatal to his
prospects, for it convinced all men that they had only exchanged one tyrant for
another. Dion had indeed become a tyrant in spite of himself. His tragedy is
the tragedy of an idealist who wholly lacks the ability to accommodate his
ideals to the realities of time and place. Syracuse was not a favourable ground
for the establishment of aristocratic government, for owing to the numerous
changes of population which it had suffered it lacked a genuine aristocracy of
birth. No one at Syracuse sincerely wished to realize the political ideals of
Dion and of Plato, and hence Dion could never have formed a strong party to
support his projects, even if he had been born with the gifts of a party
leader. Moreover, generous, high-minded and patriotic as he certainly was, he
could not win the affections of his fellowcitizens,
for he was handicapped both by his kinship with tyrants and by his spiritual
affinity with the philosopher who had for the common people nothing but
contempt.
The murderer
of Dion affected to be a liberator, and was the hero of the hour; but there is
no reason to suppose him to have been anything but an adventurer who had seized
his opportunity. After ruling thirteen months he succeeded in establishing a
tyranny at Catana, but only at the cost of losing
Syracuse, where he was displaced in 352 by Hipparinus,
the elder son of Dionysius I and Aristomache. After two years the new tyrant
met his end in a drunken quarrel, and his place was taken by his brother Nysaeus. Of the character of Nysaeus and his rule we know nothing, but the fact that he maintained himself for five
years proves that he was a man of some ability. Finally in 347 he was expelled
by Dionysius himself, who thus regained his power ten years after he had lost
it. During all these years, since the murder of Dion, the condition of Syracuse
seems to have been miserable in the extreme. A large proportion of the
population had perished in the constant civil strife, poverty and destitution
were widespread, and there seemed no escape from that series of hated tyrants.
Dionysius,
who during his ten years’ exile had ruled at Locri, had there displayed all the
worst features of the despot, and his second period of power at Syracuse proved
so intolerable that the despairing citizens appealed for aid to Hicetas, a Syracusan by birth, who now ruled at Leontini.
At the same time danger threatened from abroad, for a Carthaginian force had
made its appearance in Sicily, and it seemed likely that the last traces of
Greek freedom would be obliterated. Indeed the condition of the island as a
whole at this date was pitiable. The majority of the Greek cities had either
been devastated and depopulated, or were crowded with Italian mercenaries who
had been brought in by the tyrants and who constituted their effective support.
So extensive had been the settlements of these foreigners that according to a
contemporary writer there seemed a real danger of the Greek language falling
out of use, and being replaced by the tongue of the Oscan or of the
Carthaginian.
III.
TIMOLEON:
THE DELIVERY OF SYRACUSE
It was in
these circumstances that an appeal was made, probably early in 345 BC, by the
Syracusans to Corinth, their mother-city; we may suppose that it was made from
Leontini, whither the followers of Dion, who had most to fear from the returned
Dionysius, had fled for refuge. The selection of Corinth was natural, not only
because she had a reputation for befriending her colonies but also because Dion
himself had sought the help of Corinthians in his legislative reforms; Sparta,
on the other hand, was mistrusted in view of the conduct of Pharax and of Gaesylus. It is not clear whether Syracuse
expected or asked for troops or warships: in view of the disturbed state of
Greece at the time it could hardly be thought likely that Corinth would be
willing or able to supply troops in any numbers, but the main requirement was a
commander who would inspire confidence and could not be suspected of harbouring
personal ambitions.
According to
Plutarch, it was the fear of an attack by the Carthaginians that occasioned this
appeal. This may very well be true, and it might be expected that assistance
would more readily be granted against a barbarian attack than against a Greek
tyrant. Nevertheless there was pressing need also for help against domestic
foes; for Hicetas was known or believed to be
intriguing with Carthage. He supported the appeal, but not in good faith; for
while ready enough to help the Syracusans to get rid of Dionysius, he intended
to fill the vacant position himself. Doubtless he felt, and not altogether without
reason, that freedom and democracy in contemporary Syracuse were vain dreams,
and that he had as good a right as any other to rule; any commander sent from
Corinth could only appear to him a rival or an impediment. It is doubtful
whether he seriously contemplated enlisting Carthaginian help before the appeal
to Corinth was suggested; in any case, it was the threat of the interference of
old Greece in Sicilian affairs that moved Carthage to respond. Apart from that,
it seems likely that she would have preserved the non-aggressive policy that
she had followed since her conclusion of peace with Dionysius II in 367. She
had on that occasion acquiesced in the Halycus frontier, and the little that we know of Carthaginian history between 367 and
345 suggests that mercantile interests now dominated her policy rather than
schemes for territorial expansion. In 348 she concluded the second treaty with
Rome, which, on the one hand, reiterated her claim to a mare clausum, going
beyond the first treaty by excluding Rome from trade in Sardinia and the whole
of Libya except Carthage itself, and, on the other, embodied clauses for the
restriction of piracy. And at some time between these dates, or possibly a
little later, she had to suppress a dangerous attempt by Hanno to overthrow the
constitution and seize supreme power. The failure of Hanno’s coup may perhaps
be interpreted as a triumph of the commercial and peace-loving party over the
landed aristocracy which had come into prominence during the past century and favoured
an imperialistic policy.
The presence
of a Punic army in the island in 345 was a lucky accident from Hicetas’ point of view: it was occasioned, so far as we can
judge, simply by the need of defensive or repressive action in the Carthaginian
province. It would seem that the town of Entella,
occupied since the time of the elder Dionysius by Campanian settlers, was
heading an anti-Carthaginian movement in the province, and endeavouring to gain
support from without its borders also. The attempt proved a complete failure:
the Carthaginians laid siege to Entella, and a
contingent of 1000 men, sent by the Sicels of Galaria, a town near the western slopes of Mt Aetna, was
annihilated before reaching its goal. Help had been promised also by the
Campanians of Aetna, but on the news of the Galarians’
defeat their efforts were abandoned. It is probable that Entella thereupon capitulated: at all events we find the town once more in Carthaginian
possession three years later.
Hicetas, who, as we
have seen, joined in the Syracusan appeal to Corinth, seems to have expected
that it would not meet with success; and he may have reflected that, in that
case, his policy of calling in the national enemy might be acquiesced in by the
Syracusans as the only remaining alternative to the tyranny of Dionysius. But
his calculations were wrong.
On reaching
Corinth the Syracusan envoys were sympathetically received, and the magistrates
at once invited candidates for the honourable commission to submit their names
for election by a popular assembly. Amongst others the name of Timoleon, son of Timodemus, was put forward, not by himself but by a
humble admirer: it was received with acclamation and Timoleon was elected. The
choice was abundantly justified by the event, but it was a strange one.
Timoleon was a man of good birth possessed of sagacity and courage, but for the
past twenty years he had lived under a cloud; his brother Timophanes,
in or about the year 365, had abused his position as commander of a mercenary
force employed by the city to make a bid for tyranny, and Timoleon, unable to
deter him, had either slain him with his own hands or contrived his
assassination. It was an act of pure patriotism, but men’s minds were divided
between admiration for a tyrannicide and detestation of a brother’s murderer.
Ever since, Timoleon had lived in mourning and seclusion; his response to the
call from Syracuse was, we may conjecture, inspired by the feeling that divine
favour now offered him an opportunity for wiping out the memory of the past. We
are told that after his election a prominent citizen named Teleclides observed in the Assembly that if Timoleon should be successful in his
enterprise his fellow-citizens would account him a tyrannicide, if he should
fail, a fratricide.
The choice of
Corinth must have seemed a curious one to the Syracusans; Timoleon, though his
bravery in war was proved, had no reputation as a general: and a man long
withdrawn from public life was likely to be a stranger to the diplomacies and
duplicities necessary for securing the goodwill of the Sicilians and for coping
with a Dionysius: in fact his reception when he first arrived in Sicily was far
from enthusiastic. The task which he had set himself was formidable; it was not
to be confined to securing the freedom of Syracuse; that was of course his
first and main purpose, but other Greek cities had associated themselves with
the Syracusan appeal, and Timoleon aimed at freeing the whole island from
tyranny. To accomplish this he must of course mainly rely upon the Sicilians
themselves, and it was by no means certain that he would inspire confidence or
win active support: so dubious and complex were the political conditions in
Sicily that the appeal which had reached Corinth could by no means be taken as
representing a universal sentiment. Timoleon, however, set about his task with
energy, uplifted by a belief in divine protection manifested in visible signs
from the outset, and in a trust in his own good luck, a trust which was amply
borne out by subsequent events and to which he gave expression in later days by
building a shrine to a strangely impersonal goddess, Automatia.
The force
with which Timoleon sailed in the spring of 344 consisted only of seven
triremes supplied by Corinth, together with one from Leucas and one from
Corcyra, sister colonies of Syracuse, and of some 1000 mercenary troops, most
of whom had been recently employed by the Phocians in the Sacred War. Unlike
Dion, he took the ordinary route down the Italian coast instead of making
direct to Sicily across the open sea. On arriving at Metapontum he was met by a
Carthaginian trireme and warned to proceed no farther. Carthage, taught by Hicetas, saw in Timoleon the would-be restorer of
Dionysius’ empire, the opponent of that particularism in Sicily which suited
her policy. Hicetas had shown his hand before
Timoleon left Corinth, and had sent a letter to the Corinthians urging them to
lend no support to Timoleon’s venture; he had, he
said, been forced by their delay in sending help to have recourse to the Carthaginians,
and the latter would not allow Timoleon’s force to
approach Sicily. The threat had no effect save to increase the enthusiasm of
the Corinthian people for Timoleon’s venture.
Disregarding the warning given him at Metapontum, the deliverer proceeded down
the coast to Rhegium, now a democratic state. In their readiness to aid the
cause of freedom, and in their cordial dislike of the Carthaginians as
neighbours, the men of Rhegium had promised Timoleon assistance, and it was due
to them that Timoleon now found it possible to elude the Carthaginians and
cross over to Sicily. Twenty Punic triremes had sailed into the straits, and
envoys from Hicetas were on board: their message was
that Timoleon himself might if he wished give Hicetas the benefit of his counsel, but that, since the war against Dionysius was
well-nigh finished, his ships and troops should be sent back to Corinth, more
especially as the Carthaginians would not permit their crossing the straits.
Timoleon affected compliance, but proposed that their compact should be made
before witnesses, in the assembly of the Rhegines. His ruse, concerted with the
Rhegine authorities, was to detain the Punic envoys by lengthy speeches, during
the delivery of which Timoleon’s ships should put to
sea one by one. Waiting until news was brought to him that all his ships except
one had got safely away, Timoleon slipped unnoticed through the crowd and put
off on the remaining ship. To the Carthaginians indignantly protesting at the
trick that had been played upon them the men of Rhegium expressed their
astonishment that any Phoenician should be displeased at guile.
It was to Tauromenium, the newly refounded city just outside the Straits, that Timoleon’s squadron sailed. Andromachus now ruled there, with
the authority, it would seem, of a constitutional king rather than of a tyrant;
the picture drawn by Plutarch of this monarch, the friend of liberty and bitter
enemy of tyrants, may reflect something of the partiality of his son, the
historian, Timaeus; but the facts remain that Tauromenium was the only Sicilian city that had promised Timoleon support before his
arrival, and that it was likewise the only one left under the control of a
single ruler when Timoleon’s work was done. To the
Carthaginian envoy who now appeared and demanded the expulsion of the
Corinthians Andromachus returned a spirited and
defiant answer; and so for a time Tauromenium became Timoleon’s headquarters. At first he could see little
prospect of success. In the message from Hicetas which reached him at Rhegium there was this much truth, that Hicetas had three days earlier defeated Dionysius and
become master of the whole of Syracuse except the Island of Ortygia, where the
tyrant was now blockaded. He had now induced the Carthaginian fleet to enter
the great harbour, so that in any attempt on Syracuse Timoleon was confronted
by a threefold enemy. From the numerous tyrants that ruled in the other cities,
such as Hippo of Messana, Mamercus of Catana, and Leptines of Apollonia he could only
expect opposition. If any of the victims of these tyrants’ oppressions had
joined in the invitation which brought Timoleon to Sicily, they showed no sign
of supporting him now that he had come. He might, they felt, after all be only
another adventurer like Pharax or Callippus,
or a half-genuine liberator like Dion.
But during
the summer of this same year, 344, Timoleon won a success which completely
changed his prospects. In the small town of Adranum it was felt that the citizens must choose between Hicetas and the Carthaginians on one side, and Timoleon on the other: opposite counsels
were favoured by opposite parties, and in the end each made its appeal. Hicetas and Timoleon were both prompt to respond, and
reached the vicinity of Adranum at the same time. But
Timoleon took Hicetas by surprise, and though his
force is said to have numbered only 1200—one-fifth of his opponent’s—he was
completely successful, taking a large number of prisoners and capturing the
enemy’s camp. The proCarthaginian party at Adranum must have been extinguished by this event, for
Timoleon now established his headquarters there. By what was regarded, and
indeed almost was, a miracle, he escaped assassination at the hands of an agent
of Hicetas, and the general belief in a special
providence that watched over him gained ground. It was perhaps in part due to
this belief that several cities now declared their adherence to his cause:
amongst these were Tyndaris on the north coast, and Catana, where Mamercus was
tyrant; it is doubtful however whether Mamercus was
sincere in his profession of a change even for the moment; in any case he did
not long remain so.
But the most
important result of Timoleon’s victory was the
surrender of Dionysius. This came as a great surprise to Timoleon, but from the
tyrant’s point of view it was undoubtedly a wise and natural proceeding. He
could not sustain a siege indefinitely, and he preferred to surrender to
Timoleon rather than to Hicetas. The reason which
Plutarch (and perhaps Timaeus) assigns for this preference is that he despised Hicetas for his recent defeat, and admired Timoleon: but we
may guess that a more cogent reason influenced the tyrant’s choice. He realized
that his career in Sicily was now finally closed, and that the only chance of
saving his life was to escape to Greece; Hicetas,
even supposing him to be willing to accept anything less than unconditional
surrender, had no ships at his disposal nor, if he had, would his Carthaginian
allies have tolerated an arrangement guaranteeing Dionysius a safe passage out
of the harbour; but to Timoleon the possession of the Island without a struggle
would seem so desirable that he might be expected to accept the offer on
condition of facilitating the tyrant’s escape. The details of that escape are
not recorded; but it was of course by sea, and must have been on a ship
provided by rimoleon. The risk of capture by the
Carthaginian ships had to be faced, but it was probably not great, nor was this
the first time that Dionysius had been successful in running a blockade. Accompanied
by a few friends he reached Timoleon’s camp, which
had probably been transferred to Catana since the
adherence of Mamercus; thence he was sent to Corinth
to end his days in beggary and to provide innumerable anecdotes for historians
and moralists.
The surrender
of the Island had taken place within fifty days of Timoleon’s landing in Sicily, that is to say, towards the end of the summer of 344 BC.
Timoleon had good cause to congratulate himself and to confirm his belief in
his automatic deity: immense quantities of war material came into his
possession, together with 2000 mercenaries. Best of all, he had justified the
choice of the Corinthian people, who hastened to dispatch reinforcements to the
number of 2000 foot-soldiers and 200 horsemen. Nevertheless his task was still
considerable, with the Island blockaded on the land side by Hicetas and on the sea by the Carthaginians. His first measure was to smuggle in by
sea, in small detachments, 400 of his own troops to take over the fortress and
the munitions: without this step he would of course have no security for the
fidelity of the surrendered mercenaries. But the great difficulty was to feed
the large garrison; provisions had to be brought in small fishing boats from Catana, which found it possible, especially in stormy
weather, to make their way through the wide gaps in the enemy’s line of ships.
All through the winter of 344—3 Timoleon laboured at this task, which must have
become still more formidable when (probably in the spring) the Carthaginians
greatly increased their fleet in the harbour. It is said that Hicetas induced Mago to bring up his whole fleet, to the
number of 150 triremes, and at the same time to disembark 50,000 or 60,000
troops in the city. These numbers must be greatly exaggerated, but it is plain
that Timoleon had to face heavy odds. Nevertheless, in spite of the despair
with which the Syracusans witnessed the spectacle of their city converted into
a barbarian camp, their deliverer in his camp at Catana,
and Neon, the Corinthian commander of the garrison in the Island, did not lose
heart. Before long the carelessness of their enemies supplied them with an
opportunity that they were prompt to seize. Mago and Hicetas rightly decided that they must capture Timoleon’s base at Catana; but, while their best troops were
withdrawn on this expedition, the vigilance of those left at Syracuse was
relaxed, and Neon in a successful sally captured Achradina,
the defences of which he forthwith strengthened and united with those of the
Island. The Corinthian garrison now had ample supplies of grain, and no attempt
was made to dislodge them by Mago and Hicetas, who
had returned in hot haste, abandoning the attack on Catana.
Meanwhile
Timoleon was awaiting the reinforcement from Corinth. We are not told how soon
after Dionysius’ capitulation they were dispatched, but it is unlikely that
they left before the spring of 343; and their journey was beset with obstacles.
On reaching Thurii they found that their advance by sea was rendered unsafe by
a Carthaginian squadron patrolling the coast. They therefore proceeded by land,
meeting with some opposition from the Bruttians, a
people previously subject to the Lucanians whose yoke they had recently (356 BC)
shaken off. So they came to Rhegium; but they might have found it hard to cross
the Straits in safety had not the Carthaginian admiral been inspired with a
foolish conceit. Believing that the Corinthian troops would not dare to attempt
the passage—a storm was raging, but it seems to have had no terror for the
Carthaginians—die dashed off to Syracuse to display to the garrison of Ortygia
his ships decked with bunting and Greek shields, an exhibition intended to
persuade Neon that the Corinthian reinforcements had been captured in the
Straits, so that he might as well surrender the Island without more ado. This
puerile ruse had an effect very different from that intended; for meanwhile the
storm had suddenly subsided and the troops had crossed at their ease in
fishing-boats. Timoleon was waiting them; he promptly united his forces and
marched on Syracuse, encamping by the Anapus. And now
there ensued the most extraordinary piece of good fortune in Timoleon’s fortunate career; suddenly the Carthaginians
embarked their whole host and sailed away. No adequate explanation is given for
this remarkable action: Diodorus ascribes it simply to fear of Timoleon’s army: Plutarch has a not improbable story of
fraternization between the Greek mercenaries in the service of Timoleon and
those of Hicetas, which came to the ears of Mago and
caused him to suspect Hicetas of treachery; a modern
historian suggests that Mago intended to have a hand in the revolutionary
attempt of Hanno at Carthage. The only point that is clear is that the
withdrawal was not ordered by the authorities at Carthage: it was a personal
decision of Mago’s. He killed himself to escape judgment and his
fellow-countrymen crucified his corpse. Hicetas, thus
deserted, could offer no effective resistance. Timoleon attacked the city from
three sides simultaneously—from Achradina and from
the north and south sides of Epipolae, and was completely successful, though we
can hardly believe Plutarch’s statement that he lost not a single man killed or
wounded. Hicetas, however, escaped to Leontini, where
for the time being he continued to rule unmolested.
IV.
TIMOLEON:
THE SETTLEMENT OF SICILY
It was now
late in the summer of 343; Timoleon’s first object,
the deliverance of Syracuse from tyranny, was achieved. There was formidable
work still before him in the extirpation of tyrants in other cities; there was
the possibility, if not the certainty, of a further Carthaginian menace; and
there was the resettlement of Syracuse. The last was perhaps the hardest task
of the three, and it was to this that he now addressed himself. Would he
succeed where Dion had failed? That question was assuredly in the mind of every
citizen of Syracuse. Two things at least were in his favour: Dion’s experience
taught him what to avoid, and, he had no past record as a tyrant’s henchman to
live down. Moreover the recent presence of a Carthaginian army in the streets
of Syracuse, and the likelihood of its return, might be expected to revive a
national spirit and to quench the passions of party hatred. The first step was
to re-populate the depleted city. Allowing for some exaggeration in Plutarch’s
description of streets and market-place overgrown with dense grass where
horses were pastured, we cannot doubt that during the recent period of civil
disorder the population of Syracuse had very considerably diminished: some had
met a violent end, some were in exile, thousands must have been forced to seek
other homes after the night when Nypsius had sacked
and burnt. It was but proper that the invitation to new settlers should be
issued from the city of Timoleon and of Archias, the
first founder of Syracuse; the Corinthians gave the greatest possible
publicity to Timoleon’s appeal, and from all quarters
of the Greek world men came together to live as free citizens of the restored
Syracuse. Of 60,000 immigrants, excluding women and children, it is said that
5000 came from Corinth itself, and as many as 50,000 from Italy and Sicily;
Diodorus adds that 10,000 were also settled in his own native town of Agyrium.
The process of resettlement must have been a gradual one, and Agyrium at least
cannot have received its immigrants until, some five years later, Timoleon had
expelled its tyrant Apolloniades. At Syracuse a
redistribution of land took place amongst old and new citizens alike, while the
houses were sold so that the old inhabitants had a chance of purchasing their
dwellings; a thousand talents were thus realized for the treasury, which was so
depleted that it was found necessary to sell the public statues by auction,
that of Gelon alone being excepted. Meanwhile
Timoleon had lost no time in obliterating the outward and visible signs of
despotism: the palace of Dionysius and his two strongholds on the Island were
demolished, and courts of justice were erected in their place.
Our
information as to the constitution established by Timoleon is meagre. His
advisers in the work were two Corinthians, Cephalus and Dionysius. It is not
likely that any Corinthian would contemplate an unlimited democracy, and the
statement that the old laws of the democrat Diodes were emended to suit the
needs of the time doubtless points to some form of restriction. All we can say
is that Syracuse remained a genuine democracy down to the time of Agathocles’
tyranny, although the influence of the wealthy made itself increasingly felt.
When we come to resume the history of Sicily after the gap of about twenty
years which follows the retirement of Timoleon we shall find an oligarchical
club of 600 referred to in such terms as to suggest that organized opposition
to Timoleon’s constitution very soon made its
appearance. The chief executive power was vested in the priest or Amphipolos of Olympian Zeus, whose sacrosanct person would
be a check upon revolutionary plotters; he was to be chosen yearly by a mixture
of election and lot, and it would seem that he must be a member of one of the
three leading families. Military control remained in the hands of a college of
generals, but we hear of a resolution to the effect that in any war against
barbarians a generalissimo should be imported from Corinth. It is probable that
the same type of constitution was established in the other Sicilian cities when
Timoleon had freed them. A loose federation or alliance bound them together,
but Syracuse does not appear to have been accorded any kind of hegemony: she
would nevertheless be felt as the predominant partner, for her population must
have far outnumbered that of any other city.
It was
probably in the summer of 342 that Timoleon undertook a campaign against Hicetas, who after his escape from Syracuse had resumed his
rule of Leontini. But his attack was unsuccessful, and he next marched against
Leptines who controlled a number of Sicel towns in
the north. Leptines surrendered and was sent to share the fate of Dionysius at
Corinth. Returning to Syracuse, Timoleon dispatched troops to the Carthaginian
province, and succeeded in detaching Entella and some
other towns from the Carthaginians: considerable spoils accrued from this
expedition, which was probably undertaken after news had arrived that Carthage
was preparing another attack on a large scale.
Disgusted at
the failure of Mago and Hanno, the Carthaginians had determined to abandon
half-measures and to rely no more upon the co-operation of Greek tyrants; it is
said that they were resolved to drive the Greeks out of Sicily altogether, but
this perhaps does no more than reflect the exasperation which they felt at the
moment against Hicetas and such other rulers as had
supported or feigned to support them in the previous campaign. The force,
70,000 foot and 10,000 horse, with 200 warships, was not exceptionally large,
but it was notable as including 2500 Carthaginian citizens, belonging to the
so-called Sacred Band. It was seldom that Carthage allowed the blood of her own
sons to be spilt in her wars, and the presence of the Sacred Band attests the
serious view which was taken of this campaign; it was felt that the
Carthaginian hold on Sicily was gravely menaced. For the rest, the troops were
recruited from Libya, Spain, Gaul and Liguria: the commanders were Hasdrubal
and Hamilcar. In May or early June of the year 3411 the troops were disembarked
at Lilybaeum, where they heard of Timoleon’s raid;
and the news determined their generals to attack with all speed. It is not
clear whether they resolved to march upon Syracuse, or first to chastise the
raiders, assuming that these were still in the west: in any case the site of
the battle was decided by Timoleon’s rapid march into
the enemy’s country. The total force of the Corinthians, as our authorities
call them, was no more than I2,ooo2, and of these only 3000 were Syracusans.
Plutarch (or his source) ascribes this small figure to the terror felt at
Syracuse in face of the formidable enemy, but it is perhaps more reasonable to
believe that the resettlement of the city had not as yet gone far enough to
increase its population very considerably. Other cities no doubt furnished some
citizen troops—Diodorus says that all the Greek cities and many Sicel and Sican cities also
readily put themselves under Timoleon’s orders after
his capture of Entella—but the greater part of the
remainder were probably mercenaries. In the course of the march Timoleon was
embarrassed by a mutiny of the mercenary troops, one thousand of whom were suffered to return to Syracuse, to be dealt with later. The battle
was fought on the bank of the Crimisus, not far from
Segesta. It resulted in a decisive victory for the Greeks, which was due to
several causes: the presence of a heavy mist enabled Timoleon to surprise the
enemy by an attack from high ground; a violent thunderstorm came on, which
drove rain and hail straight in the face of the Carthaginians; and the heavily-armed warriors of the Sacred Band, who bore the brunt of the fighting, found
themselves at a great disadvantage in face of the superior mobility of the
Greek infantry; the torrent of rain rendered their equipment still heavier, and
as the plain rapidly became a morass owing to the overflowing of the river and
to the swollen streams which swirled down from the hillside they found it
increasingly difficult to move. Large numbers were swept away downstream, the
rest were slain or put to flight. As many as 10,000 are said to have fallen,
including the whole of the Sacred Band; heaven, in a very literal sense, had
aided the Corinthian leader in this great battle, which was fought in mid-June,
341: the spoils of the enemy’s armour were very rich, and fine trophies were
sent to adorn' the temples of Corinth and to add to her renown.
The remnants of the defeated host took refuge within the walls of Lilybaeum. The Punic fleet still rode the waters off the west coast, and it was therefore out of the question for Timoleon to attempt the siege of that stronghold, or of Heraclea or Panormus; without a naval victory it was impossible to drive the Carthaginians out of Sicily. Timoleon therefore left some troops to plunder enemy territory, and himself returned to Syracuse, where his first act was the expulsion from Sicily of the thousand mercenaries that had deserted him; they are said to have crossed to Italy and been cut to pieces by the Bruttians. It says much
for the tenacity and spirit of the Carthaginians that after this crushing
defeat they did not abandon the war. It says much moreover for their
adaptability that they returned at once to their former policy of co-operating
with Greek tyrants. Mamercus of Catana,
who had become an adherent of Timoleon after the battle of Adranum, Hicetas who had supplied him with troops at the Crimisus, and Hippo of Messana now reverted to their previous allegiance; all were mere opportunists in their
alliances, and whereas they had recently thought their positions endangered by
the Carthaginian invasion they had now more to fear from Timoleon.
The
Carthaginians now recalled Gescon, a son of the revolutionary
Hanno, from the exile to which he had been sentenced for complicity in his
father’s designs, and put him in command of a fleet of 70 ships which entered
the harbour of Messana probably during the summer of
340. Troops were disembarked, consisting of Greek mercenaries, for Carthage had
profited by the experience of the Crimisus. At first
they met with some success, Timoleon’s troops
suffering one defeat near Messana and a second at Ietae in the west of the island; Hicetas even ventured on a raid into Syracusan territory, but was routed by Timoleon at
the river Damyrias, probably near Camarina;
he fled to Leontini, but was pursued by Timoleon, surrendered by his own
people, and executed as a traitor to the national cause. His wife and daughters
were condemned to death by a vote of the Syracusan assembly; this is the one
event in Timoleon’s career which Plutarch, his
biographer, deplores, but it is probable that he had no constitutional means of
preventing it. Soon after this Catana was surrendered
by Mamercus’ own comrades, and he fled for refuge to
Hippo of Messana. Timoleon laid siege to the town,
and when Hippo tried to escape by sea he was captured by the Messanians and executed in their theatre, where even the
school-children were admitted to witness the joyous spectacle. Mamercus then surrendered, and after a public trial at
Syracuse was crucified like a brigand. With the expulsion of the tyrants of Centuripa and Agyrium in 338—7 the emancipation of Sicily
from despotism was now complete, though one monarch, Andromachus of Tauromenium, still ruled his people as a
constitutional king.
Carthage
meanwhile had not waited for the complete overthrow of the tyrants, but had
made overtures for peace in 339 after Timoleon’s victories at the Damyrias and at Catana.
It was agreed that the Halycus should remain the
boundary of the Punic province, that Carthage should recognize the independence
of all Greek cities east of that river, and allow any Greeks in her own
province to migrate to Syracuse if they wished. Further, she gave an
undertaking to refrain in future from alliances with Sicilian tyrants. Thus Selinus and Himera remained
subject to Carthage, who also appears to have retained Heraclea Minoa, although
this town stood on the east bank of the Halycus. It
is at first sight surprising that terms so favourable to the defeated enemy
should have been granted: the explanation is partly that the peace was made
while the tyrants, though defeated, were still at large, and Timoleon was
willing to pay a considerable price to detach the Carthaginians from their
alliance; but it must also be recognized that the victory of the Crimisus, glorious as it was, had been due to favourable
circumstances, and hardly represented areal superiority of the Sicilian Greeks
over any strength that Carthage might put forth. It is possible too that the
defeat at Ietae was more serious than our Greek
authorities admit, and that it involved a reconquest of the whole Carthaginian
province.
About two
years after concluding this peace Timoleon withdrew from public life. His
principal work during these years was the resettlement of Gela and Acragas, the famous cities which since their destruction by
Carthage in 406 BC had only revived on a very small scale; now that Carthage
had renounced all claim to southwest Sicily it was possible to restore both to
some degree of importance and prosperity. Camarina too, which had suffered under Punic dominion, received a fresh body of
settlers, but the population of Leontini—presumably descendants of the
mercenaries settled there by the elder Dionysius—were transplanted to Syracuse.
The Campanian mercenaries of Aetna were expelled, and, as we may suppose,
replaced by Greeks.
How long
Timoleon lived after his retirement we do not know. His last years were clouded
by the loss of his eyesight, but he retained the confidence and veneration of
the people of Syracuse, and occasionally spoke in the Assembly when specially
important measures were under consideration. To his funeral flocked many thousands
from all parts of Sicily: the proclamation over his pyre, recorded by Plutarch,
tells in words of simple dignity what he had done: ‘The Syracusan people here
gives burial to Timoleon, son of Timodemus, of Corinth,
at a cost of two hundred minae, and honours him for
all time with musical, equestrian, and athletic contests, because he put down
the tyrants, conquered the barbarians in war, resettled the greatest of the
devastated cities, and restored to the Siceliotes their laws? There were few perhaps amongst those that came to do honour to
their country’s saviour who guessed how soon his work was to be undone.
V.
SOUTHERN
ITALY
The course of
events in southern Italy during these years offers a parallel to that in
Sicily. Just as in the island the dissolution of the empire of the elder
Dionysius had ultimately involved the renewal of the struggle with Carthage, so
on the peninsula the Greek cities had to contend against the attack of native
Italian peoples. But there is this difference to be noted, that whereas in
Sicily Carthage had held her hand until the security of her own province in the
north-west was deemed to be endangered by the support proffered to Syracuse by
Corinth, in Italy the barbarians’ advance was definitely aggressive and
unprovoked. The most formidable of the aggressors were the Lucanians and the Bruttians. The Lucanians, as we have seen, had combined
with Dionysius I in an attack upon the people of Thurii and had decisively
defeated them at Laus in 389. But although the
Syracusan tyrant had been ready enough to use barbarian help in his warfare
against the Italiotes he was nevertheless alive to the danger of allowing Greek
civilization to be submerged by a barbarian flood. His project of a wall across
the isthmus of Scylletium in order to meet this
danger had never been carried out, but it would seem that so long as the
Syracusan Empire stood firm the Lucanians felt it unsafe to attack the Greek
cities. It was not until 356, after the expulsion of Dionysius II, that the
first attack came: and it came not from the Lucanians but from the Bruttians. It was probably a false etymology that
represented this people as consisting of the fugitive slaves of the Lucanians;
they seem rather to represent a number of tribes previously subject to the
Lucanians who now seized the opportunity presented by the weakening of the
Syracusan power to throw off the Lucanian yoke, uniting themselves under a
common name, perhaps that of the strongest tribe, with a federal capital which
they named Consentia. Terina, Hipponium, the Sybarite
settlement on the river Traeis and a number of other
Greek towns fell rapidly into their power. From the Siris to the isthmus of Scylletium the Bruttians were for
the next twenty years or more the dominant power: we have seen that in 343 they
opposed the passage of Timoleon’s reinforcements from
Thurii to Rhegium.
Farther
north, Tarentum had to resist the attacks of the Lucanians and Messapians, and, like Syracuse, she turned for help to her
mother-city, Sparta. It was probably in 342, two years after Timoleon had come
to Sicily, that Archidamus, king of Sparta, crossed
to Tarentum with a force of mercenaries, mainly drawn, like Timoleon’s,
from the survivors of the Phocian army in the Sacred War. Just as his more
famous father Agesilaus had in his old age fought for the revolted subjects of
the Persian Empire in the hope of restoring Sparta’s prestige and replenishing
her treasury, so now Archidamus in the same
adventurous spirit responded to the offer of Tarentine gold. Nor was the son
more successful than the father: he seems to have struggled for some three
years, only to be decisively defeated and killed in 338, on the very day, it
was said, of the battle of Chaeronea. The final battle was fought at a place
called Mandonium in Lucania.
About five
years later the Tarentines were again constrained to seek help from old Greece.
From Sparta nothing more could be expected, for she had been brought under the
heel of Macedon, but a powerful champion was found in the person of Alexander,
king of Epirus, the brother of Olympias and uncle of Alexander the Great. It
was his ambition to emulate in the West the exploits of his nephew in the East,
and for a while that ambition seemed in a fair way to be realized. He first
attacked the Messapians and Iapygians,
carrying his victorious arms as far north as Arpi and Sipontum: then turning against the Lucanians, he
advanced to Paestum on the western sea, and defeated the united forces of the
Lucanians and Samnites. Farther south he captured the Bruttian capital at Consentia, and recovered Terina. In short,
he gained for a brief space the control of a great part of southern Italy, and
perhaps the most notable evidence of his power is the alliance into which he
entered with the Romans, who had by now been brought into conflict with the
Samnites. It is possible that his designs extended to Sicily also. It soon
became plain to the men of Tarentum that instead of a protector they had in
fact called in a conqueror. Unable to recognize the plain fact that the
Lucanian advance could only be permanently stayed by the establishment of a
strong military power such as that formed by Alexander, they preferred to
defend their independence and turned against him. Supported by the lesser
Italian cities, such as Thurii and Metapontum, Alexander coped successfully
with the new enemy and captured the Tarentine colony of Heraclea. But naturally
the Lucanians and Bruttians seized the opportunity
for attack, and in a battle at Pandosia, in the
valley of the Crathis, the Epirote king was
completely defeated and stabbed in the back by a Lucanian exile serving in his
own army; this was probably in the winter of 331—302.
Although
Alexander’s far-reaching designs had thus been shattered, yet the Italiote
cities were for the present relieved from further barbarian pressure. This was
mainly due to the outbreak of the great Samnite war (327—304), into which the
Lucanians were drawn as Rome’s allies. Tarentum was to make two more bids for independence,
under the championship first of Cleonymus of Sparta,
secondly of Pyrrhus, before she became subject to the great power which as
early as at the death of Alexander was fast advancing towards the control of
all Italy.
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ATHENIAN PHILOSOPHICAL SCHOOLS
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