READING HALL

THE DOORS OF WISDOM

GEORGE GROTE'S HISTORY OF GREECE

CHAPTER XL

BATTLES OF THERMOPYLAE AND ARTEMISIUM.

It was while the northerly states of Greece were thus succes­sively falling off from the common cause, that the deputies assembled at the Isthmus took among themselves the solemn engagement, in the event of success, to inflict upon these recusant brethren condign punishment,—to tithe them in property, and perhaps to consecrate a tenth of their persons, for the profit of the Delphian god. Exception was to be made in favor of those states which had been driven to yield by irresistible necessity. Such a vow seemed at that moment little likely to be executed it was the manifestation of a determined feeling binding together the states which took the pledge, but it cannot have contributed much to intimidate the rest.

To display their own force, was the only effective way of keeping together doubtful allies; and the pass of Thermopylae was now fixed upon as the most convenient point of defence, next to that of Tempe,—leaving out indeed, and abandoning to the enemy, Thessalians, Perrhaebians, Magnates, Phthiotid Achaeans, Dolopes, Oenianes, Malians, etc., who would all have been included if the latter line had been adhered to; but comprising the largest range consistent with safety. The position of Thermopylae presented another advantage which was not to be found at Tempe; the mainland was here separated from the island of Euboea only by a narrow strait, about two English miles and a half in its smallest breadth, between mount Knemis and cape Kenaeum. On the northern portion of Euboea, immediately facing Magnesia and Achaea Phthiotis, was situated the line of coast called Artemisium: a name derived from the temple of Artemis, which was its most conspicuous feature, belonging to the town of Histiaea. It was arranged that the Grecian fleet should be mustered there, in order to cooperate with the land-force, and to oppose the progress of the Persians on both elements at once. To fight in a narrow space was sup­posed favorable to the Greeks on sea not less than on land, inasmuch as their ships were both fewer in number and heavier in sailing than those in the Persian service. From the position of Artemisium, it was calculated that they might be able to prevent the Persian fleet from advancing into the narrow strait which severs Euboea, to the north and west, from the mainland, and which, between Chalcis and Boeotia, becomes not too wide for a bridge. It was at this latter point that the Greek seamen would have preferred to place their defence : but the occupation of the northern part of the Euboean strait was indispensable to prevent the Persian fleet from landing troops in the rear of the defenders of Thermopylae.

Of this Euboean strait, the western limit is formed by what was then called the Maliac gulf, into which the river Spercheius poured itself,—after a course from west to east between the line of Mount Othrys to the north, and Mount Oeta to the south— near the town of Antikyra. The lower portion of this spacious and fertile valley of the Spercheius was occupied by the various tribes of the Malians, bordering to the north and east on Achaea Phthiotis: the southernmost Malians, with their town of Trachis, occupied a plain—in some places considerable, in others very narrow—inclosed between mount Oeta and the sea. From Trachis the range of Oeta stretched eastward, bordering close on the southern shore of the Maliac gulf: between the two lay the memorable pass of Thermopylae. On the road from Trachis to Thermopylae, immediately outside of the latter and at the mouth of the little streams called the Phenix and the Asopus, was placed the town of Anthela, celebrated for its temples of Amphictyon and of the Amphictyonic Demeter, as well as for the autumnal assemblies of the Amphictyonic council, for whom seats were provided in the temple.

Immediately near to Anthela, the northern slope of the mighty and prolonged ridge of Oeta approached so close to the gulf, or at least to an inaccessible morass which formed the edge of the gulf, as to leave no more than one single wheel track between. This narrow entrance formed the western gate of Thermopylae. At some little distance, seemingly about a mile, to the eastward, the same close conjunction between the mountain and the sea was repeated,—thus forming the eastern gate of Thermopylae, not far from the first town of the Locrians, called Alpeni. The space between these two gates was wider and more open, but it was distinguished, and is still distinguished, by its abundant flow of thermal springs, salt and sulphureous. Some cells were here prepared for bathers, which procured for the place the appella­tion of Chytri, or the Pans: but the copious supply of mineral water spread its mud and deposited its crust over all the adja­cent ground; and the Phocians, some time before, had designedly endeavored so to conduct the water as to render the pass utterly impracticable, at the same time building a wall across it near to the western gate. They had done this in order to keep off the attacks of the Thessalians, who had been trying to extend their conquests southward and eastward. The warm springs, here as in other parts of Greece, were consecrated to Herakles, whose legendary exploits and sufferings ennobled all the surrounding region,—mount Oeta, Trachis, cape Kenaeum, Lichades islands, the river Dyras: some fragments of these legends have been transmitted and adorned by the genius of Sophokles, in his drama of the Trachinian maidens.

Such was the general scene—two narrow openings with an intermediate mile of enlarged road and hot springs between them—which passed in ancient times by the significant name of Thermopylae, the Hot Gates; or sometimes, more briefly, Pylae—The Gates. At a point also near Trachis, between the mountains and the sea, about two miles outside or westward of Thermopylae, the road was hardly less narrow, but it might be turned by marching to the westward, since the adjacent mountains were lower, and presented less difficulty of transit; while at Thermopylae itself, the overhanging projection of mount Oeta was steep, woody, and impracticable, leaving access, from Thessaly into Locris and the territories southeast of Oeta, only through the strait gate; save and except an unfrequented as well as circuitous mountain-path, which will be presently spoken of. The wall originally built across the pass by the Phocians was now half ruined by age and neglect: but the Greeks easily reestablished it, determined to await in this narrow pass, in that age narrower even than the defile of Tempe, the approach of the invading host. The edge of the sea line appears to have been for the most part marsh, fit neither for walking nor for sailing: but there were points at which boats could land, so that constant communication could be maintained with the fleet at Artemisium, while Alpeni was immediately in their rear to supply provisions.

Though the resolution of the Greek deputies assembled at the Isthmus, to defend conjointly Thermopilae and the Euboean strait, had been taken, seemingly, not long after the retreat from Tempe, their troops and their fleet did not actually occupy these positions until Xerxes was known to have reached the Thermaic gulf. Both were then put in motion; the land-force under the Spartan king Leonidas, the naval force under the Spartan commander Eurybiades, apparently about the latter part of the month of June. Leonidas was the younger brother, the successor, and the son-in-law, of the former Eurystheneid king Cleomenes, whose only daughter Gorgo he had married. Another brother of the same family—Dorieus, older than Leonidas—had perished, even before the death of Kleomenes, in an unsuccessful attempt to plant a colony in Sicily ; and room had been thus made for the unexpected succession of the youngest brother. Leonidas now conducted from the Isthmus to Thermopylae a select band of three hundred Spartans,—all being citizens of mature age, and persons who left at home sons to supply their places. Along with them were five hundred hoplites from Tegea, five hundred from Mantineia, one hundred and twenty from the Arcadian Orchomenus, one thousand from the rest of Arcadia, four hundred from Corinth, two hundred from Phlius, and eighty from Mycenae. There were also, doubtless, Helots and other light troops, in undefined number, and probably a certain number of Lacedaemonian hoplites, not Spartans. In their march through Boeotia they were joined by seven hundred hoplites of Thespiae, hearty in the cause, and by four hundred Thebans, of more equivocal fidelity, under Leontiades. It appears, indeed, that the leading men of Thebes, at that time under a very narrow oligarchy, decidedly medized, or espoused the Persian interest, as much as they dared before the Persians were actually in the country : and Leonidas, when he made the requi­sition for a certain number of their troops to assist in the defence of Thermopylae, was doubtful whether they would not refuse compliance, and openly declare against the Greek cause. The Theban chiefs thought it prudent to comply, though against their real inclinations, and furnished a contingent of four hundred men, chosen from citizens of a sentiment opposed to their own. Indeed the Theban people, and the Boeotians generally, with the exception of Thespiae and Plataea, seem to have had little sentiment on either side, and to have followed passively the inspirations of their leaders.

With these troops Leonidas reached Thermopylae, whence he sent envoys to invite the junction of the Phocians and the Locrians of Opus. The latter had been among those who had sent earth and water to Xerxes, of which they are said to have repented: the step was taken, probably, only from fear, which at this particular moment prescribed acquiescence in the summons of Leonidas, justified by the plea of necessity in case the Persians should prove ultimately victorious: while the Phocians, if originally disposed to medize, were now precluded from doing so by the fact that their bitter enemies, the Thessalians, were active in the cause of Xerxes, and influential in guiding his movements. The Greek envoys added strength to their summons by all the encouragement in their power. The troops now at Thermopylae, they said, were a mere advanced body, preceding the main strength of Greece, which was expected to arrive every day: on the side of the sea, a sufficient fleet was already on guard : nor was there any cause for fear, since the invader was, after all, not a god, but a man, exposed to those reverses of fortune which came inevitably on all men, and most of all, upon those in preeminent condition.” Such arguments prove but too evidently the melancholy state of terror which then pervaded the Greek mind: whether reassured by them or not, the great body of the Opuntian Locrians, and one thousand Phocians, joined Leonidas at Thermopylae.

That this terror was both genuine and serious, there cannot be any doubt: and the question naturally suggests itself, why the Greeks did not at once send their full force instead of a mere advanced guard? The answer is to be found in another attribute of the Greek character,—it was the time of celebrating both the Olympic festival-games on the banks of the Alpheius, and the Karneian festival at Sparta and most of the other Dorian states. Even at a moment when their whole freedom and existence were at stake, the Greeks could not bring themselves to postpone these venerated solemnities : especially the Peloponnesian Greeks, among whom this force of religious routine appears to have been the strongest. At a period more than a century later, in the time of Demosthenes, when the energy of the Athenians had materially declined, we shall find them, too, postponing the military necessities of the state to the complete and splendid fulfilment of their religious festival obligations,—starving all their measures of foreign policy in order that the Theorie exhibitions might be imposing to the people and satisfactory to the gods. At present, we find little disposition in the Athenians to make this sacrifice,—certainly much less than in the Peloponnesians. The latter, remaining at home to celebrate their festivals while an invader of superhuman might was at their gates, remind us of the Jews in the latter days of their independence, who suffered the operations of the besieging Roman army round their city to be carried on without interruption during the Sabbath. The Spartans and their confederates reckoned that Leonidas with his detachment would be strong enough to hold the pass of Thermopylae until the Olympic and Karneian festivals should be past, after which period they were prepared to march to his aid with their whole military force: and they engaged to assemble in Boeotia for the purpose of defending Attica against attack on the land-side, while the great mass of the Athenian force was serving on shipboard.

At the time when this plan was laid, they believed that the narrow pass of Thermopylae was the only means of possible access for an invading army. But Leonidas, on reaching the spot, discovered for the first time that there was also a mountain-path starting from the neighborhood of Trachis, ascending the gorge of the river Asopus and the hill called Anopaea, then crossing the crest of Oeta and descending in the rear of Thermopylae near the Locrian town of Alpeni. This path—then hardly used, though, its ascending half now serves as the regular track from Zeitun, the ancient Lamia, to Salona on the Corinthian gulf, the ancient Amphissa—was revealed to him by its first discoverers, the inhabitants of Trachis, who in former days had conducted the Thessalians over it to attack Phocis, after the Phocians had blocked up the pass of Thermopylae It was therefore not unknown to the Phocians: it conducted from Trachis into their country, and they volunteered to Leonidas that they would occupy and defend it. But the Greeks thus found themselves at Thermopylae under the same necessity of providing a double line of defence, for the mountain-path as well as for the defile, as that which had induced their former army to aban­don Tempe: and so insufficient did their numbers seem, when the vast host of Xerxes was at length understood to be approaching, that a panic terror seized them; and the Peloponnesian troops especially, anxious only for their own separate line of defence at the isthmus of Corinth, wished to retreat thither forthwith. The indignant remonstrances of the Phocians and Locrians, who would thus have been left to the mercy of the invader, induced Leonidas to forbid this retrograde movement: but he thought it necessary to send envoys to the various cities, insisting on the insufficiency of his numbers, and requesting immediate reinforcements. So painfully were the consequences now felt, of having kept back the main force until after the religious festivals in Peloponnesus.

Nor was the feeling of confidence stronger at this moment in their naval armament, though it had mustered in far superior numbers at Artemisium on the northern coast of Euboea, under the Spartan Eurybiades. It was composed as follows: one hundred Athenian triremes, manned in part by the citizens of Plataea, in spite of their total want of practice on shipboard; forty Corinthian, twenty Megarian, twenty Athenian, manned by the inhabitants of Chalcis, and lent to them by Athens; eighteen Aeginetans, twelve Sicyonian, ten Lacedaemonian, eight Epidaurian, seven Eretrian, five Troezenian, two from Styrus in Euboea, and two from the island of Keos. There were thus in all two hundred and seventy-one triremes; together with nine pentekonters, furnished partly by Keos and partly by the Locrians of Opus. Themistokles was at the head of the Athenian contingent, and Adeimantus of the Corinthian; of other officers we hear nothing. Three cruising vessels, an Athenian, an Aeginetan, and a Troezenian, were pushed forward along the coast of Thessaly, beyond the island of Skiathos, to watch the advancing movements of the Persian fleet from Therma.

It was here that the first blood was shed in this memorable contest. Ten of the best ships in the Persian fleet, sent forward in the direction of Skiathos, fell in with these three Grecian triremes who probably supposing them to be the precursors of the entire fleet sought safety in flight. The Athenian trireme escaped to the mouth of the Peneius, where the crew abandoned her, and repaired by land to Athens, leaving the vessel to the enemy: the other two ships were overtaken and captured afloat,—not without a vigorous resistance on the part of the Aeginetan, one of whose hoplites, Pythes, fought with desperate bravery, and fell covered with wounds. So much did the Persian warriors admire him, that they took infinite pains to preserve his fife, and treated him with the most signal manifestations both of kindness and respect, while they dealt with his comrades as slaves.

On board the Troezenian vessel, which was the first io be captured, they found a soldier named Leon, of imposing stature: this man was immediately taken to the ship’s head and slain, as a presaging omen in the approaching contest: perhaps, observes the historian, his name may have contributed to determine his fate. The ten Persian ships advanced no farther than the dangerous rock Myrmex, between Skiathos and the mainland, which had been made known to them by a Greek navigator of Skyros, and on which they erected a pillar to serve as warning for the coming fleet. Still, so intense was the alarm which their presence— communicated by fire-signals from Skiathos, and strengthened by the capture of the three look-out ships—inspired to the fleet at Artemisium, that they actually abandoned their station, believing that the entire fleet of the enemy was at hand. They sailed up the Euboean strait to Chaklis, as the narrowest and most defensible passage; leaving scouts on the high lands to watch the enemy’s advance.

Probably this sudden retreat was forced upon the generals by the panic of their troops, similar to that which king Leonidas, more powerful than Eurybiades and Themistocles, had found means to arrest at Thermopylae. It ruined for the time the whole scheme of defence, by laying open the rear of the army at Thermopylae to the operations of the Persian fleet. But that which the Greeks did not do for themselves was more than compensated by the beneficent intervention of their gods, who opposed to the invader the more terrible arms of storm and hurricane. He was allowed to bring his overwhelming host, land­force as well as naval, to the brink of Thermopylae and to the coast of Thessaly, without hindrance or damage; but the time had now arrived when the gods appeared determined to humble him, and especially to strike a series of blows at his fleet which should reduce it to a number not beyond what the Greeks could contend with. Amidst the general terror which pervaded Greece, the Delphians were the first to earn the gratitude of their countrymen by announcing that divine succor was at hand. On entreating advice from their own oracle, they were directed to pray to the Winds, who would render powerful aid to Greece. Moreover, the Athenian seamen, in their retreat at Chalcis, recollecting that Boreas was the husband of the Attic princess or heroine Oreithyia, daughter of their ancient king Erechtheus, addressed fervent prayers to their son-in-law for his help in need. Never was help more effective, or more opportune, than the destructive storm, presently to be recounted, on the coast of Magnesia, for which grateful thanks and annual solemnities were still rendered even in the time of Herodotus, at Athens as well as ai Delphi.

Xerxes had halted on the Thermaic gulf for several days, employing a large portion of his numerous army in cutting down the woods and clearing the roads, on the pass over Olympus from upper Macedonia into Perrhaebia, which was recommended by his Macedonian allies as preferable to the defile of Tempe. Not intending to march through the latter, he is said to have gone by sea to view it; and remarks are ascribed to him on the facility of blocking it up so as to convert all Thessaly into one vast lake. Ilis march from Therma through Macedonia, Perrhaebia, Thessaly, and Achaea Phthiotis, into the territory of the Malians and the neighborhood of Thermopylae, occupied eleven or twelve days : the people through whose towns he passed had already made their submission, and the Thessalians especially were zealous in seconding his efforts. His numerous host was still farther swelled by the presence of these newly-submitted people, and by the Macedonian troops under Alexander; so that the river Onochonus in Thessaly, and even the Apidanus in Achaea Phthiotis, would hardly suffice to supply it, but were drunk up, according to the information given to Herodotus. At Alus in Achaea, he condescended to listen to the gloomy legend connected with the temple of Zeus Laphysteus and the sacred grove of the Athamantid family: he respected and protected these sacred places,—an incident which shows that the sacrilege and destruction of temples imputed to him by the Greeks, though true in regard to Athens, Abae, Miletus, etc., was by no means universally exhibited, and is even found qualified by occasional instances of great respect for Grecian religious feeling. Along the shore of the Malian gulf he at length came into the Trachinian territory near Thermopylae, where he encamped, seemingly awaiting the arrival of the fleet, so as to combine his farther movements in advance, now that the enemy were immediately in his front.

But his fleet was not destined to reach the point of communication with the same ease as he had arrived before Thermopylae. After having ascertained by the ten ships already mentioned, which captured the three Grecian guardships, that the channel between Skiathos and the mainland was safe, the Persian admiral Megabates sailed with his whole fleet from Therma, or from Pydna, his station in the Thermaic gulf, eleven days after the monarch had begun his land-march; and reached in one long day’s sail the eastern coast of Magnesia, not far from its southernmost promontory. The greater part of this line of coast, formed by the declivities of Ossa and Pelion, is thoroughly rocky and inhospitable : but south of the town called Kasthanaea there was a short extent of open beach, where the fleet rested for the night before coming to the line of coast called the Sepias Akte. The first line of ships were moored to the land, but the larger number of this immense fleet swung at anchor in a depth of eight lines. In this condition they were overtaken the next morning by a sudden and desperate hurricane,—a wind called by the people of the country Hellespontias, which blew right upon the shore. The most active among the mariners found means to forestall the danger by beaching and hauling their vessels ashore; but a large number, unable to take such a precaution, were carried before the wind and dashed to pieces near Meliboea, Kasthanaea, and other points of this unfriendly region. Four hundred ships of war, according to the lowest estimate, together with a countless heap of transports and provision craft, were destroyed: and the loss of life as well as property was immense. For three entire days did the terrors of the storm last, during which time the crews ashore, left almost without defence, and apprehensive that the inhabitants of the country might assail or plunder them, were forced to break up the ships driven ashore in order to make a palisade out of the timbers. Though the Magian priests who accompanied the armament were fervent in prayer and sacrifice, — not merely to the Winds, but also to Thetis and the Nereids, the tutelary divinities of Sepias Akte,—they could obtain no mitigation until the fourth day: thus long did the prayers of Delphi and Athens, and the jealousy of the gods against super­human arrogance, protract the terrible visitation. At length, on the fourth day, calm weather returned, when all those ships which were in condition to proceed, put to sea and sailed along the land, round the southern promontory of Magnesia, to Aphetae, at the entrance of the gulf of Pagasae. Little, indeed, had Xerxes gained by the laborious cutting through mount Athos, in hopes to escape the unseen atmospheric enemies which howl around that formidable promontory the work of destruction to his fleet was only transferred to the opposite side of the intervening Thracian sea.

Had the Persian fleet reached Aphetae without misfortune, they would have found the Euboean strait evacuated by the Greek fleet and undefended, so that they would have come immediately into communication with the land army, and would have acted upon the rear of Leonidas and his division. But the storm completely altered this prospect, and revived the spirits of the Greek fleet at Chalcis. It was communicated to them by their scouts on the high lands of Euboea, who even sent them word that the entire Persian fleet was destroyed: upon which, having returned thanks and offered libations to Poseidon the Saviour, the Greeks returned back as speedily as they could to Artemisinin. To their surprise, however, they saw the Persian fleet, though reduced in number, still exhibiting a formidable total and appearance at the opposite station of Aphetae. The last fifteen ships of that fleet, having been so greatly crippled by the storm as to linger behind the rest, mistook the Greek ships for their own comrades, fell into the midst of them, and were all captured. Sandokes, sub-satrap of the Aeolic Kyme,—Aridolis, despot of Alabanda in Karia,—and Penthylus, despot of Paphos in Cyprus,—the leaders of this squadron, were sent prisoners to the isthmus of Corinth, after having been questioned respecting the enemy: the latter of these three had brought to Xerxes a contingent of twelve ships, out of which eleven had foundered in the storm, while the last was now taken with himself aboard.

Meanwhile Xerxes, encamped within sight of Thermopylae, suffered four days to pass without making any attack: a proba­ble reason may be found in the extreme peril of his fleet, report­ed to have been utterly destroyed by the storm: but Herodotus assigns a different cause. Xerxes could not believe, according to him. that the Greeks at Thermopylae, few as they were in number, had any serious intention to resist: he had heard in his march that a handful of Spartans and other Greeks, under an Herakleid leader, had taken post there, but he treated the news with scorn: and when a horseman,—whom he sent to reconnoitre them, and who approached near enough to survey their position, without exciting any attention among them by his presence,— brought back to him a description of the pass, the wall of defence, and the apparent number of the division, he was yet more astonished and puzzled. It happened too. that at the moment when this horseman rode up, the Spartans were in the advanced guard, outside of the wall: some were engaged in gymnastic exercises, others in combing their long hair, and none of them heeded the approach of the hostile spy. Xerxes next sent for the Spartan king, Demaratus, to ask what he was to think of such madness; upon which the latter reminded him of their former conversation at Doriskus, again assuring him that the Spartans in the pass would resist to the death, in spite of the smallness of their number; and adding, that it was their custom, in moments of special danger, to comb their hair with peculiar care. In spite of this assurance from Demaratus, and of the pass not only occupied, but in itself so narrow and impracti­cable, before his eyes, Xerxes still persisted in believing that the Greeks did not intend to resist, and that they would disperse of their own accord. He delayed the attack for four days: on the fifth he became wroth at the impudence and recklessness of the petty garrison before him, and sent against them the Median and Kissian divisions, with orders to seize them and bring them as prisoners into his presence.

Though we read thus in Herodotus, it is hardly possible to believe that we are reading historical reality: we rather find laid out before us a picture of human self-conceit in its most exaggerated form, ripe for the stroke of the jealous gods, and des­tined, like the interview between Croesus and Solon, to point and enforce that moral which was ever present to the mind of the historian; whose religious and poetical imagination, even unconsciously to himself, surrounds the naked facts of history with accompaniments of speech and motive which neither Homer nor Aeschylus would have deemed unsuitable. The whole proceedings of Xerxes, and the immensity of host which he sum­moned, show that he calculated on an energetic resistance; and though the numbers of Leonidas, compared with the Persians, were insignificant, they could hardly have looked insignificant in the position which they then occupied,—an entrance little wider than a single carriage-road, with a cross wall, a prolonged space somewhat widened, and then another equally narrow exit, behind it. We are informed by Diodorus that the Locrians, when they first sent earth and water to the Persian monarch, engaged at the same time to seize the pass of Thermopylae on his behalf, and were only prevented from doing so by the unexpected arrival of Leonidas; nor is it unlikely that the Thessalians, now the chief guides of Xerxes, together with Alexander of Macedon, would try the same means of frightening away the garrison of Thermopylae, as had already been so successful in causing the evacuation of Tempe. An interval of two or three days might be well bestowed for the purpose of leaving to such intrigues a fair chance of success: the fleet, meanwhile, would be arrived at Aphetae after the dangers of the storm : we may thus venture to read the conduct of Xerxes in a manner somewhat less childish than it is depicted by Herodotus.

The Medes, whom Xerxes first ordered to the attack, animated as well by the recollection of their ancient Asiatic supremacy as by the desire of avenging the defeat of Marathon, manifested great personal bravery. The position was one in which bows and arrows were of little avail: a close combat hand to hand was indispensable, and in this the Greeks had every advantage of organization as well as armor. Short spears, light wicker shields, and tunics, in the assailants, were an imperfect match for the long spears, heavy and spreading shields, steady ranks, and practised fighting of the defenders. Yet the bravest men of the Persian army pressed on from behind, and having nothing but numbers in their favor, maintained long this unequal combat, with great slaughter to themselves and little loss to the Greeks. Though constantly repulsed, the attack was as constantly renewed, for two successive days: the Greek troops were sufficiently numerous to relieve each other when fatigued, since the space was so narrow that few could contend at once; and even the Immortals, or ten thousand choice Persian guards, and the other choice troops of the army, when sent to the attack on the second day, were driven back with the same disgrace and the same slaughter as the rest. Xerxes surveyed this humiliating repulse from a lofty throne expressly provided for him: “thrice (says the historian, with Homeric vivacity) did he spring from his throne, in agony for his army.”

At the end of two days’ fighting no impression had been made, the pass appeared impracticable, and the defence not less triumphant than courageous,—when a Malian, named Ephialtes, revealed to Xerxes the existence of the unfrequented mountain path. This at least was the man singled out by the general voice of Greece as the betrayer of the fatal secret: after the final repulse of the Persians, he fled his country for a time, and a reward was proclaimed by the Amphictyonic assembly for his head; having returned to his country too soon, he was slain by a private enemy, whom the Lacedaemonians honored as a patriot. There were, however, other Greeks who were also affirmed to have earned the favor of Xerxes by the same valuable information; and very probably there may have been more than one informant,—indeed, the Thessalians, at that time his guides, can hardly have been ignorant of it. So little had the path been thought of, however, that no one in the Persian army knew it to be already occupied by the Phocians. At nightfall, Hydarnes with a detachment of Persians was detached along the gorge of the river Asopus, ascended the path of Anoprea, through the woody region between the mountains occupied by the Oetieans and those possessed by the Trachinians, and found himself at daybreak near the summit, within sight of the Phocian guard of one thousand men. In the stillness of daybreak, the noise of his army trampling through the wood aroused the defenders; but the surprise was mutual, and Hydarnes in alarm asked his guide whether these men also were Lacedaemonians. Having ascertained the negative, he began the attack, and overwhelmed the Phocians with a shower of arrows, so as to force them to abandon the path and seek their own safety on a higher point of the mountain. Anxious only for their own safety, they became unmindful of the inestimable opening which they were placed to guard. Had the full numerical strength of the Greeks been at Thermopylae, instead of staying behind for the festivals, they might have planted such a force on the mountain-path as would have rendered it not less impregnable than the pass beneath.

Hydarnes, not troubling himself to pursue the Phocians, fol­lowed the descending portion of the mountain-path, shorter than the ascending, and arrived in the rear of Thermopylae not long after midday. But before he had yet completed his descent, the fatal truth had already been made known to Leonidas, that the enemy were closing in upon him behind. Scouts on the hills, and deserters from the Persian camp, especially a Kymman named Tyrastiada, had both come in with the news : and even if such informants had been wanting, the prophet Megistias, descended from the legendary seer Melampus, read the approach of death in the gloomy aspect of the morning sacrifices. It was evident that Thermopylae could be no longer defended; but there was ample time for the defenders to retire, and the detachment of Leonidas were divided in opinion on the subject. The greater number of them were inclined to abandon a position now become untenable, and to reserve themselves for future occasions on which they might effectively contribute to repel the invader. Nor is it to be doubted that such was the natural impulse, both of brave soldiers and of prudent officers, under the circumstances. But to Leonidas the idea of retreat was intolerable. His own personal honor, together with that of his Spartan companions and of Sparta herself. forbade him to think of yielding to the enemy the pass which he had been sent to defend. The laws of his country required him to conquer or die in the post assigned to him, whatever might be the superiority of number on the part of the enemy: moreover, we are told that the Delphian oracle had declared that either Sparta itself, or a king of Sparta, must fall a victim to the Persian arms. Had he retired, he could hardly have escaped that voice of reproach which, in Greece especially, always burst upon the general who failed: while his voluntary devotion and death would not only silence every whisper of calumny, but exalt him to the pinnacle of glory both as a man and as a king, and set an example of chivalrous patriotism at the moment when the Greek world most needed the lesson.

The three hundred Spartans under Leonidas were found fully equal to this act of generous and devoted self-sacrifice. Perhaps he would have wished to inspire the same sentiment to the whole detachment: but when he found them indisposed, he at once ordered them to retire, thus avoiding all unseemly reluctance and dissension: the same order was also given to the prophet Alegistias, who however refused to obey it and stayed, though he sent away his only son. None of the contingents remained with Leonidas except the Thespian and the Theban. The former, under their general Demophilus, volunteered to share the fate of the Spartans, and displayed even more than Spartan heroism, since they were not under that species of moral constraint which arises from the necessity of acting up to a preestablished fame and superiority. But retreat with them presented no prospect better than the mere preservation of life, either in slavery or in exile and misery; since Thespite was in Boeotia, sure to be overrun by the invaders; while the Peloponnesian contingents had behind them the isthmus of Corinth, which they doubtless hoped still to be able to defend. With respect to the Theban contingent, we are much perplexed; for Herodotus tells us that they were detained by Leonidas against their will as hostages, that they took as little part as possible in the subsequent battle, and surrendered themselves prisoners to Xerxes as soon as they could. Diodorus says that the Thespians alone remained with the Spartans; and Pausanias, though he mentions the eighty Myceneans as having stayed along with the Thespians (which is probably incorrect), says nothing about the Thebans. All things considered, it seems probable that the Thebans remained, but remained by their own offer,—being citizens of the anti-Persian party, as Diodorus represents them to have been, or perhaps because it may have been hardly less dangerous for them to retire with the Peloponnesians, than to remain, suspected as they were of medism: but when the moment of actual crisis arrived, their courage not standing so firm as that of the Spartans and Thespians, they endeavored to save their lives by taking credit for medism, and pretending to have been forcibly detained by Leonidas.

The devoted band thus left with Leonidas at Thermopylae con­sisted of the three hundred Spartans, with a certain number of Helots attending them, together’ with seven hundred Thespians and apparently four hundred Thebans. If there had been before any Lacedemonians, not Spartans, present, they must have retired with the other Peloponnesians. By previous concert with the guide, Ephialtes, Xerxes delayed his attack upon them until near noon, when the troops under Hydarnes might soon be expected in the rear. On this last day, however, Leonidas, knowing that all which remained was to sell the lives of his detachment dearly, did not confine himself to the defensive, but advanced into the wider space outside of the pass; becoming the aggressor and driving before him the foremost of the Persian host, many of whom perished as well by the spears of the Greeks as in the neighboring sea and morass, and even trodden down by their own numbers. It required all the efforts of the Persian officers, assisted by threats and the plentiful use of the whip, to force their men on to the fight. The Greeks fought with reckless bravery and desperation against this superior host, until at length their spears were broken, and they had no weapon left except their swords. It was at this juncture that Leonidas himself was slain, and around his body the battle became fiercer than ever : the Persians exhausted all their efforts to possess themselves of it, but were repulsed by the Greeks four several times, with the loss of many of their chiefs, especially two brothers of Xerxes. Fatigued, exhausted, diminished in number, and deprived of their most effective weapons, the little band of defenders retired, with the body of their chief, into the narrow strait behind the cross wall, where they sat all together on a hillock, exposed to the attack of the main Persian army on one side, and of the detachment of Hydarnes, which had now completed its march, on the other. They were thus surrounded, overwhelmed with missiles, and slain to a man; not losing courage even to the last, but de­fending themselves with their remaining daggers, with their unarmed hands, and even with their mouths.

Thus perished Leonidas with his heroic comrades,—three hundred Spartans and seven hundred Thespians. Amidst such equal heroism, it seemed difficult to single out any individual as distinguished: nevertheless, Herodotus mentions the Spartans Dienekes, Alpheus, and Maron,—and the Thespian Dithyrambus,—as standing preeminent. The reply ascribed to the first became renowned. “The Persian host (he was informed) is so prodigious that their arrows conceal the sun.” “So much the better (he answered), we shall then fight them in the shade.” Herodotus had asked and learned the name of every individual among this memorable three hundred, and even six hundred years afterwards, Pausanias could still read the names engraved on a column at Spana. One alone among them—Aristodemus—returned home, having taken no part in the combat. He, together with Eurytus, another soldier, had been absent from the detachment on leave, and both were lying at Alpeni, suffering from a severe complaint in the eyes. Eurytus, apprized that the fatal hour of the detachment was come, determined not to survive it, asked for his armor, and desired his attendant Helot to lead him to his place in the ranks; where he fell gallantly fighting, while the Helot departed and survived. Aristodemus did not imitate this devotion of his sick comrade: overpowered with physical suffering, he was carried to Sparta—but he returned only to scorn and infamy among his fellow-citizens. He was denounced as “the coward Aristodemus;” no one would speak or communicate with him, or even grant him a light for his fire. After a year of such bitter disgrace, he was at length enabled to retrieve his honor at the battle of Plataea, where he was slain, after surpassing all his comrades in heroic and even reckless valor.

Amidst the last moments of this gallant band, we turn with repugnance to the desertion and surrender of the Thebans. They are said to have taken part in the final battle, though only to save appearances and under the pressure of necessity: but when the Spartans and Thespians, exhausted and disarmed, retreated to die upon the little hillock within the pass, the Thebans then separated themselves, approached the enemy with outstretched hands, and entreated quarter. They now loudly proclaimed that they were friends and subjects of the Great King, and had come to Thermopylae against their own consent; all which was con­firmed by the Thessalians in the Persian army. Though some few were slain before this proceeding was understood by the Persians, the rest were admitted to quarter; not without the signal disgrace, however, of being branded with the regal mark as untrustworthy slaves,—an indignity to which their com­mander, Leontiades was compelled to submit along with the rest. Such is the narrative which Herodotus recounts, without any expression of mistrust or even of doubt: Plutarch emphatically contradicts it, and even cites a Boeotian author, who affirms that Anaxarchus, not Leontiades, was commander of the Thebans at Thermopylae. Without calling in question the equivocal conduct and surrender of this Theban detachment, we may reasonably dismiss the story of this ignominious branding, as an invention of that strong anti-Theban feeling which prevailed in Greece after the repulse of Xerxes.

The wrath of that monarch, as he went over the field after the close of the action, vented itself upon the corpse of the gallant Leonidas, whose head he directed to be cut off' and fixed on a cross. But it was not wrath alone which filled his mind : he was farther impressed with involuntary admiration of the little detachment which had here opposed to him a resistance so unex­pected and so nearly invincible,—he now learned to be anxious respecting the resistance which remained behind. “Demaratus (said he to the exiled Spartan king at his side), thou art a good man: all thy predictions have turned out true: now tell me, how many Lacedaemonians are there remaining, and are they all such warriors as these fallen men?” “0 king (replied Demaratus), the total of the Lacedaemonians and of their towns is great; in Sparta alone, there are eight thousand adult warriors, all equal to those who have here fought; and the other Lacedaemonians, though inferior to them, are yet excellent soldiers.” “Tell me (rejoined Xerxes), what will be the least difficult way of conquering such men?” Upon which Demaratus advised him to send a division of his fleet to occupy the island of Kythera, and from thence to make war on the southern coast of Laconia, which would distract the attention of Sparta, and prevent her from cooperating in any combined scheme of defence against his land­force. Unless this were done, the entire force of Peloponnesus would be assembled to maintain the narrow isthmus of Corinth, where the Persian king would have far more terrible battles to fight than anything which he had yet witnessed.

Happily for the safety of Greece, Achaemenes, the brother of Xerxes, interposed to dissuade the monarch from this prudent plan of action; not without aspersions on the temper and motives of Demaratus, who, he affirmed, like other Greeks, hated all power, and envied all good fortune, above his own. The fleet, added he, after the damage sustained by the recent storm, would bear no farther diminution of number: and it was essential to keep the entire Persian force, on land as well as on sea, in one undivided and cooperating mass.

A few such remarks were sufficient to revive in the monarch his habitual sentiment of confidence in overpowering number: yet while rejecting the advice of Demaratus, he emphatically repelled the imputations against the good faith and sincere attachment of that exiled prince.

Meanwhile the days of battle at Thermopylae had been not less actively employed by the fleets at Aphetae and Artemisium. It has already been mentioned that the Greek ships, having abandoned their station at the latter place and retired to Chalcis, were induced to return, by the news that the Persian fleet had been nearly ruined by the recent storm,—and that, on returning to Artemisium, the Grecian commanders felt renewed alarm on seeing the enemy’s fleet, in spite of the damage just sustained, still mustering in overwhelming number at the opposite station of Aphetae. Such was the effect of this spectacle, and the impression of their own inferiority, that they again resolved to retire without fighting, leaving the strait open and undefended. Great consternation was caused by the news of their determina­tion among the inhabitants of Euboea, who entreated Eurybiades to maintain his position for a few days, until they could have time to remove their families and their property. But even such postponement was thought unsafe, and refused: and he was or the point of giving orders for retreat, when the Euboeans sent their envoy, Pelagon, to Themistocles, with the offer of thirty talents, on condition that the fleet should keep its station and hazard an engagement in defence of the island. Themistokles employed the money adroitly and successfully, giving five talents to Eurybiades, with large presents besides to the other leading chiefs: the most unmanageable among them was the Corinthian Adeimantus,—who at first threatened to depart with his own squadron alone, if the remaining Greeks were mad enough to remain. His alarm was silenced, if not tranquillized, by a present of three talents.

However Plutarch may be scandalized at such inglorious revelations preserved to us by Herodotus respecting the underhand agencies of this memorable struggle, there is no reason to call in question the bribery here described. But Themistokles doubtless was only tempted to do, and enabled to do, by means of the Euboean money, that which he would have wished and laid probably tried to accomplish without the money,—to bring on a naval engagement at Artemisium. It was absolutely essential to the maintenance of Thermopylae, and to the general plan of defence, that the Euboean strait should be defended against the Persian fleet, nor could the Greeks expect a more favorable posi­tion to fight in. We may reasonably presume that Themistokles, distinguished not less by daring than by sagacity, and the great originator of maritime energies in his country, concurred unwill­ingy in the projected abandonment of Artemisium: but his high mental capacity did not exclude that pecuniary corruption which rendered the presents of the Euboeans both admissible and welcome,—yet still more welcome to him perhaps, as they supplied means of bringing over the other opposing chiefs and the Spartan admiral. It was finally determined, therefore, to remain, and if necessary, to hazard an engagement in the Euboean strait; but at any rate to procure for the inhabitants of the island a short interval to remove their families. Had these Euboeans heeded the oracles, says Herodotus, they would have packed up and removed long before : for a text of Bakis gave them express warning : but, having neglected the sacred writings as unworthy of credit, they were now severely punished for such presumption.

Among the Persian fleet at Aphetae on the other hand, the feeling prevalent was one of sanguine hope and confidence in their superior numbers, forming a strong contrast with the disparagement of the Greeks at Artemisium. Had they attacked the latter immediately, when both fleets first saw each other from their opposite stations, they would have gained an easy victory, for the Greek fleet would have fled, as the admiral was on the point of ordering, even without an attack. But this was not sufficient for the Persians, who wished to cut off every ship among their enemies even from flight and escape. Accordingly, they detached two hundred ships to circumnavigate the island of Euboea, and to sail up the Euboean strait from the south, in the rear of the Greeks,—and postponing their own attack in front until this squadron should be in position to intercept the retreating Greeks. But though the manoeuvre was concealed by sending the squadron round outside of the island of Skiathos, it became known immediately among the Greeks, through a deserter,— Skyllias of Skione. This man, the best swimmer and diver of his time, and now engaged like other Thracian Greeks in the Persian service, passed over to Artemisium. and communicated to the Greek commanders both the particulars of the late destructive storm, and the despatch of the intercepting squadron.

It appears that his communications, respecting the effects of the storm and the condition of the Persian fleet, somewhat reas­sured the Greeks, who resolved during the ensuing night to sail from their station at Artemisium for the purpose of surprising the detached squadron of two hundred ships, and who even became bold enough, under the inspirations of Themistokles, to go out and offer battle to the main fleet near Aphetaa. Wanting to acquire some practical experience, which neither leaders nor soldiers as yet possessed, of the manner in which Phoenicians and others in the Persian fleet handled and manoeuvred their ships, they waited till a late hour of the afternoon, when little daylight remained. Their boldness in thus advancing out, with inferior numbers and even inferior ships, astonished the Persian admirals, and distressed the Ionians and other subject Greeks who were serving them as unwilling auxiliaries: to both it seemed that the victory of the Persian fleet, which was speedily brought forth to battle, and was numerous enough to encompass the Greeks, would be certain as well as complete. The Greek ships were at first marshalled in a circle, with the sterns in the interior, and presenting their prows in front at all points of the circumference; in this position, compressed into a narrow space, they seemed to be awaiting the attack of the enemy, who formed a larger circle around them: but on a second signal given, their ships assumed the aggressive, rowed out from the inner circle in direct impact against the hostile ships around, and took or disabled no less than thirty of them: in one of which Philaon, brother of Gorgus, despot of Salamis in Cyprus, was made prisoner. Such unexpected forwardness at first disconcerted the Persians, who however rallied and inflicted considerable damage and loss on the Greeks: but the near approach of night put an end to the combat, and each fleet retired to its former station,—the Persians to Aphetae, the Greeks to Artemisium.

The result of this first day's combat, though indecisive in itself, surprised both parties and did much to exalt the confidence of the Greeks. But the events of the ensuing night did yet more. Another tremendous storm was sent by the gods to aid them. Though it was the middle of summer,—a season when rain rarely falls in the climate of Greece,—the most violent wind, rain, and thunder, prevailed during the whole night, blowing right on shore against the Persians at Aphetae, and thus but little troublesome to the Greeks on the opposite side of the strait. The seamen of the Persian fleet, scarcely recovered from the former storm at Sepias Akte, were almost driven to despair by this repetition of the same peril: the more so when they found the prows of their ships surrounded, and the play of their oars impeded, by the dead bodies and the spars from the recent battle, which the current drove towards their shore. If this storm was injurious to the main fleet at Aphetae, it proved the entire ruin of the squadron detached to circumnavigate Euboea, who, overtaken by it near the dangerous eastern coast of that island, called the Hollows of Euboea, were driven upon the rocks and wrecked. The news of this second conspiracy of the elements, or intervention of the gods, against the schemes of the invaders, was highly encouraging to the Greeks; and the seasonable arrival of fifty-three fresh Athenian ships, who reinforced them the next day, raised them to a still higher pitch of confidence. In the afternoon of the same day, they sailed out against the Persian fleet at Aphetae, and attacked and destroyed some Cilician ships even at their moorings ; the fleet having been too much dam­aged by the storm of the preceding night to come out and fight.

But the Persian admirals were not of a temper to endure such insults,—still less to let their master hear of them. About noon on the ensuing day, they sailed with their entire fleet near to the Greek station at Artemisium, and formed themselves into a half moon; while the Greeks kept near to the shore, so that they could not be surrounded, nor could the Persians bring their entire fleet into action; the ships running foul of each other, and not finding space to attack. The battle raged fiercely all day, and with great loss and damage on both sides : the Egyptians bore off the palm of valor among the Persians, the Athenians among the Greeks. Though the positive loss sustained by the Persians was by far the greater, and though the Greeks, being near their own shore, became masters of the dead bodies as well as of the disabled ships and floating fragments,—still, they were them­selves hurt and crippled in greater proportion with reference to their inferior total: and the Athenian vessels especially, foremost in the preceding combat, found one half of their number out of condition to renew it. The Egyptians alone had captured five Grecian ships with their entire crews.

Under tgese circumstances, the Greek leaders,—and Themistocles, as it seems, among them,—determined that they could no longer venture to hold the position of Artemisium, but must withdraw the naval force farther into Greece though this was in fact a surrender of the pass of Thermopylae, and though the removal which the Euboeans were hastening was still unfinished. These unfortunate men were forced to be satisfied with the promise of Themistokles to give them convoy for their boats and their persons ; abandoning their sheep and cattle for the consumption of the fleet, as better than leaving them to become booty for the enemy. While the Greeks were thus employed in organizing their retreat, they received news which rendered retreat doubly necessary. The Athenian Abronychus, stationed with his ship near Thermopylae, in order to keep up communication between the army and fleet, brought the disastrous intelligence that Xerxes was already master of the pass, and that the division of Leonidas was either destroyed or in flight. Upon this the fleet abandoned Artemisinm. forthwith, and sailed up the Euboean strait; the Corinthian ships in the van, the Athenians bringing up the rear. Themistokles, conducting the latter, stayed long enough at the various watering-stations and landing places to inscribe on some neighboring stones invitations to the Ionian contingents serving under Xerxes: whereby the latter were conjured not to serve against their fathers, but to desert, if possible, or at least, to fight as little and as backwardly as they could. Themistokles hoped by this stratagem perhaps to detach some of the Ionians from the Persian side, or, at any rate, to render them objects of mistrust, and thus to diminish their efficiency. With no longer delay than was requisite for such inscriptions, he followed the remaining fleet, which sailed round the coast of Attica, not stopping until it reached the island of Salamis.

The news of the retreat of the Greek fleet was speedily conveyed by a citizen of Histiaea to the Persians at Aphetae, who at first disbelieved it, and detained the messenger until they had sent to ascertain the fact. On the next day, their fleet passed across to the north of Euboea, and became master of Histiaea and the neighboring territory: from whence many of them, by permission and even invitation of Xerxes, crossed over to Thermopylae to survey the field of battle and the dead. Respecting the number of the dead, Xerxes is asserted to have deliberately imposed upon the spectators: he buried all his own dead, except one thousand, whose bodies were left out,—while the total number of Greeks who had perished at Thermopylae, four thousand in number, were all left exposed, and in one heap, so as to create an impression that their loss had been much more severe than their own. Moreover, the bodies of the slain Helots were included in the heap, all of them passing for Spartans or Thespians in the estimation of the spectators. We are not surprised to hear, however, that this trick, gross and public as it must have been, really deceived very few. According to the statement of Herodotus, twenty thousand men were slain on the side of the Persians,—no unreasonable estimate, if we consider that they wore little defensive armor, and that they were three days fighting. The number of Grecian dead bodies is stated by the same historian as four thousand: if this be correct, it must include a considerable proportion of Helots, since there were no hoplites present on the last day except the three hundred Spartans, the seven hundred Thespians, and the four hundred Thebans. Some hoplites were of course slain in the first two days’ battles, though apparently not many. The number who originally came to the defence of the pass seems to have been about seven thousand:but the epigram, composed shortly afterwards, and inscribed on the spot by order of the Amphictyonic assembly, transmitted to posterity the formal boast that four thousand warriors “from Peloponnesus had here fought with three hundred myriads or three million of enemies.” Respecting this alleged Persian total, some remarks have already been made: the statement of four thousand warriors from Peloponnesus, must indicate all those who originally marched out of that peninsula under Leon­idas. Yet the Amphictyonic assembly, when they furnished words to record this memorable exploit, ought not to have immortalized the Peloponnesians apart from their extra-Peloponnesian comrades, of merit fully equal,—especially the Thespians, who exhibited the same heroic self-devotion as Leonidas and his Spartans, without having been prepared for it by the same elaborate and iron discipline. While this inscription was intended as a general commemoration of the exploit, there was another near it, alike simple and impressive, destined for the Spartan dead separately : “Stranger, tell the Lacedaemonians, that we lie here, in obedience to their orders.” On the hillock within the pass, where this devoted band received their death-wounds, a monument was erected, with a marble lion in honor of Leonidas; decorated, apparently, with an epigram by the poet Simonides. That distinguished genius composed at least one ode, of which nothing but a splendid fragment now remains, to celebrate the glories of Thermopylae ; besides several epigrams, one of which was consecrated to the prophet Megistias, “who, though well aware of the fate coming upon him, would not desert the Spartan chiefs.”