THE FIFTEEN DECISIVE BATTLES OF THE WORLD FROM MARATHON TO WATERLOO OXFORD EDITION THE FIFTEEN DECISIVE BATTLES OF THE WORLD FROM MARATHON TO WATERLOO BY SIR EDWARD CREASY WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY H. W. C. DAVIS ilNV^I TIC' WITH TWELVE MAPS AND PLANS HUMPHREY MILFORD OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS LONDON EDINBURGH GLASGOW NEW YORK TORONTO MELBOURNE BOMBAY 1915 INTRODUCTION Sir Edward Shepherd Creasy, the author of this work, belongs to the great Victorian period of our literature. He was born in 1812, the year of the birth of Dickens and of Browning. He was a little younger than Tennyson and John Stuart Mill and Charles Darwin, a little older than Ruskin and Buckle and George Eliot. The Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World appeared in 1851, when Carlyle and V, Ruskin, Tennyson and Browning, Mill and Grote, were at "V the height of their productive power. The intellectual (^ ferment which characterized the middle years of the nineteenth century seems to have stimulated Creasy's literary development. After 1851 he produced several competent works of history ; but by common consent the Fifteen Decisive Battles is his masterpiece. Yet between Creasy and his more eminent contemporaries (I there was not much in common. He had been trained in '^a different school of thought, and he was concerned with a ^different subject-matter. At Eton and at Cambridge he '^ steeped himself in the literature of the ancient world ; i4»and this curriculum left him equally indifferent to the physical sciences and to the new German philosophies which were the favourite studies of the mid- Victorian period. From the classics he turned, as a young man, QT^to the study of law and history. In the law he became ^sufficiently at home to justify his later appointment as ^ Chief Justice of Ceylon (1860). But from 1840 to 1860 his main interest and his professional occupation was historical teaching. During those twenty years he held 0^ 8000 J .4 vi INTRODUCTION the office of Professor of Ancient and Modern History in the University of London. He never made himself a professional historian in the modern sense. He considered it his business to expound the conclusions of the new criticism. He was an admirer of Niebuhr, but he left research to others. His bent was literary and not scientific, and like most literary historians he was inclined to take his facts from other writers ; to accept the con- ventional verdicts upon historic personages, and the conventional estimates of the significance of great events. He stood aloof from the most eminent historical writers of his own time, who, whether they had been trained in natural science or not, were sufficiently imbued with scien- tific scepticism to make short work of orthodox traditions. Carlyle, not content with pressing the Hero-theory to ex- tremes, took a pleasure in setting up as Heroes a Mahomet, a Rousseau, a Cromwell, a Frederick the Great. Grote undertook to defend the Athenian demagogues against the abuse which had been heaped upon them by almost all the earlier historians of Greece. Buckle wrote hii History of Civilization to explain that the events which mattered were those which previous investigators had omitted to record. Creasy was not an original thinker. His conservative attitude towards history, his belief that the causes which lie upon the surface are the ca.uses which actually shape the destinies of nations, were derived from Gibbon and from Arnold and from Thirl wall, the three English historians whom he took as his masters in the science. But he was a robust thinker who never felt ashamed of being out of fashion ; and the very title of his Fifteen Decisive Battles was a challenge to the self-styled scientific school who refused to see in history any trace of accident, or to admit that any good could come of war. He acknow- ledged that war was in itself an evil, and that the qualities INTRODUCTION vii of a great soldier may be found in the basest of mankind. To dwell on battles merely because they were battles would be to show 'a strange weakness or depravity of mind'. But he maintained that there are certain battles which deserve to be studied because of their far-reaching effects on human destinies. He tells us himself that this book was suggested by a saying of Hallam to the effect that there are some battles ' of which a contrary event would have essentially varied the drama of the world in all its subse- quent scenes '. Buckle held that every great upheaval of society, such as, for instance, the French Revolution, was in essence a conflict between reason and unreason, and that the victory of reason was always a foregone conclusion. Creasy, on the other hand, argues that the Revolution would have been nipped in the bud if the armies of the Revolutionary government had been beaten at Valmy. He carries the revolt against the scientific method to the point of suggest- ing that the individual leader may be the decisive factor in such crucial struggles. At Valmy, he insists, a French defeat was averted only by the personal skill of Dumouriez and the personal bravery of Kellermann. Most historians are agreed that the Pultowa campaign of Charles XII of Sweden was a mad enterprise in its conception no less than in its execution. Creasy represents the future of Russia and of Sweden as hanging in suspense until the moment when the Swedish attack reeled back in confusion from the Russian lines. If those lines had once been broken, he tells us, Charles XII might have established his capital at Moscow, and Europe would not have been terrified, in 1852, by the prospect of a Russian ascendancy. These are obvious exaggerations. But every one will admit that some wars, of which the issue was by no means a foregone conclusion, have materially changed the political situation and have placed the victorious powers in a position viii INTRODUCTION of superiority which they have maintained, Avithout further military effort, for a long period of time. The battles of Salamis and Plataea — which, with all deference to Creasy, we must consider more momentous than that of Marathon — finally saved Greece from the Persian peril. The battle of Actium established for more than two hundred years the supremacy of Rome over the lands of the Eastern Mediter- ranean. The battle of Sedan (which Creasy lived to Bee, though he did not write about it) not only brought the German Empire into being, but made that Empire for some forty years the dominant power in Continental Europe. It may well be true that the French armies had not the slightest prospect of success in 1870 ; "but it seems clear that, with better leading, they might have averted an overwhelming defeat. We may go further ; we may admit the truth of the doctrine, which Creasy reiterates in one after another of his narratives, that the consequence of a victory is far from being measured by the material losses of the defeated party. The death-roll of the greatest battles in the past is insignifi- cant when we compare it Avith the ravages of a Black Death or an Irish Famine, to say nothing of those still more devastating dearths and epidemics with which the East is visited from time to time. The Athenians estimated the numbers of the Persians killed in the fight of Marathon at 6,400 ; and this figure is more likely to be above than below the mark, since the losses of the Athenians are given as 192. Yet Creasy does not exaggerate the effects of Marathon when he states that, so far as the Greeks were concerned, it * broke for ever the spell of Persian invincibility '. The battle of Blenheim, to take a more modern instance, was the turning-point in the career of Louis XIV. ' Blenheim had dissipated for ever his once proud visions of almost universal conquest.' Yet the losses of his army in killed, INTRODUCTION ix prisoners, wounded, and fugitives were not more than 40,000 men. The most careful estimates of Napoleon's losses at Waterloo give about 30,000 killed and wounded. The battle of Borodino is considered the most sanguinary of those fought in the Napoleonic wars ; but at Borodino the total losses of the two opposing armies, French and Russian, were not more than 72,000. It is noteworthy that the carnage of Borodino led to no definite result. There can be no greater mistake than that of measuring the impor- tance of military operations by the numbers engaged or the numbers which are put out of action. A victory is important when it gives the victor a strong and well-founded confidence in his superiority ; when it removes all doubts as to his power of endurance, and as to the merits of his military methods. Borodino was not a victory of this kind. It left Napoleon despondent, although his losses were less than half of those which he had inflicted on the Russians. Borodino proved that the Grand Army was not equal to the task of conquering Russia. Napoleon said himself that, if he had pushed his victory home, he would have been left without the troops for winning further victories. Borodino is a striking contrast to such engagements as Marathon and Hastings, in which the opposing forces were insignificant, but the circumstances such that the battle was, in each case, a trial of strength between two different schools of military organization. At the same time it must be remembered that the moral effects of a victory may be, and often are, of short duration. Few nations have suffered more humiliating and more conclusive defeats than were experienced by the Prussians at Jena and by the French in the campaign of 1870, But within eight years of Jena the Prussian army was remodelled ; in 1813, at Mockern and at Laon, the disgrace X INTRODUCTION of Jena was brilliantly retrieved. As for the French, we ourselves are witnesses that the armies of the Third Republic have profited at every point by the lessons which were learned in the death-agony of the Second Empire. Defeat may be a stimulus to new exertions ; victory may breed an unwarranted and calamitous self-confidence. The Athenians were defeated at Sjnracuse because earlier successes had caused them to over-estimate their powers and to despise their enemies. The completeness of the Prussian rout at Jena was due to an unreasoning faith in the military and social system which had carried Prussia through the wars of the eighteenth century. Such arrogance is even more dangerous than cowardice ; for the coward, while he invites attack, at least does not go out of his way to provoke it. We may now turn from Creasy' s general view of war, as a determining factor in history, to consider his list of decisive battles. It will be noticed that he does not claim to have selested the fifteen which were most decisive ; and our first feeling, when we run through the list, is that he has made a haphazard selection to suit the course of his own reading, or to give himself the subjects which were best suited to his literary method. Why, we may ask, does he describe Marathon rather than Salamis, considering that the success of the Greeks in keeping the Persians out of Europe depended ultimately upon the Greek command of the sea which was first established at Salamis ? Or why should he describe the defeat of Varus rather than the victory of Augustus at Actium, considering that the consolidation of the Mediterranean lands under a single Roman Emperor was a more important fact in Roman history than the loss of an uncertain hold upon the forests and marshes of primaeval Germany ? Why, again, should the battle of Tour.s be described and the Crusades be omitted ? INTRODUCTION xi Is it not a paradox to treat the battle of Orleans or the battle of Pultowa as a turning-point in universal history ? Would he have selected the battle of Orleans if he had not been attracted by the tragical romance of Joan of Arc ? Would it have occurred to him to exalt the importance of Pultowa if he had not written his book a few years before the Crimean War, when nearly every Liberal in Europe regarded Russia as the enemy of progress and the would-be despot of Western Europe ? Criticisms of this kind could easily be multiplied, and they would be just if Creasy had intended that his unambitious volume should be systematic or scientific. He had no such intention. He undoubtedly desired to illustrate his general views on the subject of historical progress, and he selected his battles with an eye to that end. They were battles in which rival civilizations had contended for the right to exist and to develop, or in which nationalities had vindicated their independence. He saw two well-marked stages in the development of the Western world, the only part of the world which he judged worthy of an historian's close examination. The first stage was the growth of a Greco-Roman civilization which had been defended against Persia by the Athenians and the Spartans, against Carthage by the Romans ; and which had been forced upon the Near East by the genius of Alexander and Augustus. The builders of this civilization had failed to camplete and secure their work, because they had never subdued the German tribes of Central and North-Eastern Europe. The Germans destroyed the political fabric of the Roman Empire, but they constituted themselves the pro- tectors of so much of Roman civilization as survived the barbarian inroads. Charles Martel, by his victory of Tours over the Arabs, rendered to Europe the same kind of service as the victors of Marathon and Arbela and the Metaurus. In xii INTRODUCTION the course of the Middle Ages the boundaries of civilized Europe were enlarged and the old homogeneity of European civilization was broken down by the growth of new nationali- ties. There had been attempts to check and reverse this process of differentiation. Philip II of Spain, Louis XIV, Napoleon Buonaparte, had in turn aspired to make them- selves autocrats over the whole of Western Europe. But these plans had been contrary to the interests of civiliza- tion, and the wars of England against Philip, of the Grand Alliance against Louis XIV, of the European coalitions against Napoleon, had been waged on behalf of human liberty. With this synopsis of Western history in our minds we can easily appreciate the reasons which guided Creasy in his choice of battles, though we may sometimes think that he has erred in his selection. He was not a critical historian in the sense in which a Ranke or an Acton is critical. He was very much inclined to accept historical events at their traditional valuation ; to look at the significance of Marathon, for example, through the eyes of Herodotus, and to accept as literal truth the judgement of Frankish chroniclers on the victory of Charles Martel at Tours. But it is a safe rule of criticism that, while contemporaries are undoubtedly our best witnesses for facts, they are very unreliable commentators upon the importance of those facts. No historical event of any consequence can be seen in its true perspective until many generations have elapsed. On the other hand, Creasy is a master of perspicuous narrative ; and he excels in the art of bringing home to his readers the salient facts of a political or military situation. In these respects he reminds us of his contemporary Grote ; and though Grote was incomparably the more learned of the two. Creasy has the advantage in the width of his historical interests, and in being free from any desire to INTRODUCTION xiii prove a thesis. There can be no doubt that he is more discriminating than Grote in his verdict upon Alexander, or that he saw more clearly the connecting links between the ancient and the modern world. Creasy's outlook upon modern history may be somewhat insular ; for in writing of modern Europe he seldom wanders far from English history. But the latter half of his book is a valuable commentary on the truth that those who only study England will know very little about England's historic mission. DEDICATED ROBERT GORDON LATHAM, M.D., F.R.S. Late Fellow of King's College, Cambridge ; Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians, London; Member of the Ethnological Society, New York; Late Professor of the English Language and Literatuie, in University College, London HIS FRIEND THE AUTHOR PREFACE TO THE SEVENTH EDITION This book was designed and written, and the early- editions of it were published, while we were blessed with a Peace which existed for nearly forty years, and which most of lis fondly hoped to behold unbroken for many more years to come. But when, early in the present year, I received notice that a Seventh Edition would soon be required, I addressed myself to the duty of preparing it amid totally different circumstances. This country was engaged in eventful warfare, the term of which no sane calculator could then define ; and the results of which to ourselves, to our gigantic adversary, to our gallant allies, and to the whole civilized world, mvist be all-pervading and all-enduring. My first impulse was to cancel many passages, which allude to the pacific character of the period in which they were composed, and to make the general scope of the Avork more applicable to the altered state of the World's history. But, on reflection, I thought it best not to incur the risk of marring that, which has hitherto found favour with the public in its original form. I have only made a few verbal corrections ; and the book still speaks as from the year 1851, in which it first appeared — that marvellous year of pacific glory — the first jubilee of nations — a year of which the present generation will never see the like again. I may perhaps be forgiven for also confessing that I feel some degree of satisfaction in retaining unaltered the passages in which, five years ago, I ventured incidentally to draw attention to the probable emergencies of perils and contests, which then were speculations, but have now become facts. This is especially the case with regard to the chapter on the Battle of Pultowa. At the present moment, hopes, apparently well-grounded, are cherished by us all, that the sound of man destroyed by man has again been permanently silenced ; and that the healing benefits of a lasting Peace are to be restored to the xviii PREFACE TO THE SEVENTH EDITION World. May the good work prosper ! For, if the coming Treaty be such as we are led to expect, we shall enjoy wise security under a Peace won Avith honour, and founded on justice. The war will perhaps have closed without being signalized by a Decisive Battle of the World ; though it is impossible, before man}^ years have passed away, rightly to estimate the importance of any conflict. But even if this be so, most truly did one of our leading statesmen declare,^ that for us to prolong a contest for the mere excitement and renown of winning such a battle, would be to make ourselves ' the Gladiators of History '. We had a duty to do, and we have done it. To sacrifice or to risk a single life beyond what the execution of duty requires, is as criminal in a nation as in an individual. Yet, even if military lustre is alone regarded, the campaigns of the last two years will shine brightly hereafter. The actors in them will be judged more fairly after a little time, than they have hitherto been amid the somewhat overweening expectations, and party-jealousies of their contemporaries. Less surprise and indignation will then be felt at the fact, that the usual ' cankers of a calm world and a long peace ' showed themselves in the administration of our war department in 1854 and 1855. But the heroic courage and endurance with which Englishmen encountered, not only a brave and out-numbering enemy, but famine, pestilence, and privation of the direst kind, week after week, and month after month, in the Aceldama of their leaguer before Sebastopol, will be the proud theme of many a lay, and many an historic page. Long too will live the renown of the English chiefs in the Arab Tabia, of Nasmyth and Butler, of the marvellous defence and deliverance of Silistria under their guiding. As equal to these in glory, though less favoured by fortune, will be cited the names of Williams and Teesdale, who triumphed over every human foe at Kars. Seldom will it be possible to find a nobler proof of the steady courage of British infantry, than in the Tyrtaean valour of the 93rd at Balakla va, when they calmly stepped forward, and in their two-deep line drove back, with heavy loss to the foe, and with none * Mr. Disraeli, in the Debate on the Address at the opening of the present Session. PREFACE TO THE SEVENTH EDITION xix to themselves, the exulting Russian cavalrj^ that had ridden down the Turks near the redoubts : Ot fxtu yap ToXixaxTt, irap' d\^rj\ot. 1066, and Joan of Arc's Victory at Orleans, a. d. 1429 . . 226 CHAPTER IX Joan of Arc's Victory over the English at Orleans, a. d. 1429 230 Synopsis of Events between Joan of Arc's Victory at Orleans, A. D. 1429, and the Defeat of the Spanish Armada, a. d. 1588 250 CHAPTER X The Defeat of the Spanish Armada, a. d. 1588 . , . 252 Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of the Spanish Armada, a. d. 1588, and the Battle of Blenheim, a. d. 1704 . . 284 CHAPTER XI The Battle of Blenheim, a. d. 1704 ..... 287 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Blenheim, a. d. 1704, and the Battle of Pultowa, A. D. 1709 . . . .312 CHAPTER XII The Battle of Pultowa, a. d. 1709 .... 313 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Pultov/a, A. D. 1709, and the Defeat of Burgoyne at Saratoga, A. D. 1777 . . 328 CHAPTER XIII Victory of the Americans over Burgoyne at Saratoga, A. D. 1777 331 Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of Burgoyne at Saratoga, A. D. 1777, and the Battle of Valmy, 1792 . . .302 CHAPTER XIV The Battle of Valmy, a. d. 1792 363 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Valmy, a. d. 1792, and the Battle of Waterloo, a. D. 1815 379 CHAPTER XV The Battle of Waterloo, a. d. 1815 ..... 382 LIST OF PLANS PAGE Plan of the Battle of Marathon ..... 25 Plan of the City of Syeactjsb . . , . .41 Plan of the Battle of Arbela . . . . . .81 Map of Italy . . . . . . . . .113 Plan of the Battle of Hastings ..... 205 Orleans .......... 233 Plan of the Battle of Blenheim ..... 307 Map of the Eastern States of America . . . .341 Plan of the Battle of Saratoga ■ . . . . . 351 Map of the Belgian Frontier ...... 391 Waterloo at the Beginning of the Action . . . 409 Waterloo at the Time of the last French Attack . . 433 FIFTEEN DECISIVE BATTLES OF THE WOULD CHAPTER I THE BATTLE OF MARATHON Qnibns actus uterque Europae atque Asiae fatis concurrent orbis. Two thousand three hundred and forty years ago, a council of Athenian officers was summoned on the slope of one of the mountains that look over the plain of Mara- thon, on the eastern coast of Attica. The immediate subject of their meeting was to consider whether they should give battle to an enemy that lay encamped on the shore beneath them ; but on the result of their delibera- tions depended, not merely the fate of two armies, but the whole future progress of human civilization. There were eleven members of that council of war. Ten were the generals, who were then annually elected at Athens, one for each of the local tribes into which the Athenians were divided. Each general led the men of his own tribe, and each was invested with equal military authority. One also of the Archons was associated with them in the joint command of the collective force. This magistrate was termed the Polemarch or War-Ruler : he had the privilege of leading the right wing of the army in battle, and of taking part in all councils of war. A noble Athenian, named Callimachus, was the War-Ruler of this year ; and, as such, stood listening to the earnest discussion of the ten generals. They had, indeed, deep matter for anxiety, though little aware how momentous to mankind were the votes they were about to give, or how the genera- tions to come would read with interest the record of their debate. They saw before them the invading forces of a 2 BATTLE OF MARATHON mighty empire, which had in the last fifty years shattered and enslaved nearly all the kingdoms and principalities of the then known world. They knew that all the resources of their own country were comprised in the little army entrusted to their gviidance. They saw before them a chosen host of the Great King, sent to wreak his special wrath on that country, and on the other insolent little Greek com- munity, which had dared to aid his rebels and burn the capital of one of his provinces. That victorious host had already fulfilled half its mission of vengeance. Eretria, the confederate of Athens in the bold march against Sardis nine years before, had fallen in the last few days ; and the Athenian generals could discern from the heights the island of Aegilia, in Avhich the Persians had deposited their Ere- trian prisoners, whom they had reserved to be led away captives into Upper Asia, there to hear their doom from the lips of King Darius himself. Moreover, the men of Athens knew that in the camp before them was their own banished tyrant, Hippias, who was seeking to be reinstated by foreign scimitars in despotic sway over any remnant of his countrymen that might survive the sack of their town, and might be left behind as too worthless for leading away into Median bondage. The numerical disparity between the force which the Athenian commanders had under them, and that which they were called on to encounter, was fearfully apparent to some of the council. The historians who wrote nearest to the time of the battle do not pretend to give any detailed statements of the numbers engaged, but there are sufficient data for our making a general estimate. Every free Greek was trained to military duty : and, from the incessant border wars between the different states, few Greeks reached the age of manhood without having seen some service. But the muster-roll of free Athenian citizens of an age lit for military duty never exceeded thirty thousand, and at this epoch probably did not amount to two-thirds of that number. Moreover, the poorer portion of these were unprovided with the equipments, and untrained to the operations of the regular infantry. Some detachments of the best-armed troops would be required to garrison the city itself, and man the various fortified posts in the BATTLE OF MARATHON 3 territory; so that it is impossible to reckon the fully equipped force that marched from Athens to Marathon, when the news of the Persian landing arrived, at higher than ten thousand men.^ With one exception, the other Greeks held back from aiding them. Sparta had promised assistance ; but the Persians had landed on the sixth day of the moon, and a religious scruple delayed the march of Spartan troops till the moon should have reached its full. From one quarter only, and that a most unexpected one, did Athens receive aid at the moment of her great peril. For some years before this time, the little state of Plataea in Boeotia, being hard pressed by her powerful neighbour, Thebes, had asked the protection of Athens, and had owed to an Athenian army the rescue of her independence. Now when it was noised over Greece that the Mede had come from the uttermost parts of the earth to destroy Athens, the brave Plataeans, unsolicited, marched with their whole force to assist in the defence, and to share the fortunes of their benefactors. The general levy of the Plataeans only amounted to a thousand men : and this little column, marching from their city along the southern ridge of Mount Cithaeron, and thence across the Attic territory, joined the Athenian forces above Marathon almost immediately before the battle. The reinforcement was numerically small ; but the gallant spirit of the men who composed it must have made it of tenfold value to the Athenians : and its presence must have gone far to dispel the cheerless feeling of being deserted and friendless, which the delay of the Spartan succours was calculated to create among the Athenian ranks. This generous daring of their weak but true-hearted ally was never forgotten at Athens. The Plataeans were made the fellow countrymen of the Athenians, except the right * The historians who lived long after the time of the battle, such as Justin, Plutarch, and others, give ten thousand as the number of the Athenian army. Not much reliance could be placed on their authority, if unsupported by other evidence ; but a calculation made from the number of the Athenian free population remarkably confirms it. For the data of this, see Boeck's Public Economy of Athens, vol. i. p. 45. Some ^XiToiKoi probably served as Hoplites at Marathon, but the number of resident aliens at Athens cannot have been large at this period. B 2 4 BATTLE OF MARATHON of exercising certain political functions ; and from that time forth, in the solemn sacrifices at Athens, the public prayers were offered up for a joint blessing from Heaven upon the Athenians, and the Plataeans also.^ After the junction of the column from Plataea, the Athenian commanders must have had under them about eleven thousand fully-armed and disciplined infantry, and probably a larger number of irregular light-armed troops ; as, besides the poorer citizens who went to the field armed with javelins, cutlasses, and targets, each regular heavy- armed soldier was attended in the camp by one or more slaves, who were armed like the inferior freemen. ^ Cavalry or archers the Athenians (on this occasion) had none : and the use in the field of military engines was not at that period introduced into ancient warfare. Contrasted with their own scant}'' forces, the Greek commanders saw stretched before them, along the shores of the winding bay, the tents and shipping of the varied nations that marched to do the bidding of the King of the Eastern Avorld. The difficulty of finding transj^orts and of securing provisions would form the only limit to the numbers of a Persian army. Nor is there any reason to suppose the estimate of Justin exaggerated, who rates at a hundred thousand the force which on this occasion had sailed, under the satraps Datis and Artaphernes, from the Cilician shores, against the devoted coasts of Euboea and Attica. And after largely deducting from this total, so as to allow for mere mariners and camp followers, there must still have remained fearful odds against the national levies of the * Mr. Grote observes (vol. iv. p. 464) that ' this volunteer march of the whole Plataean force to Marathon is one of the most affecting incidents of all Grecian histoiy '. In trath, the whole career of Plataea, and the friendship, strong even unto death, between her and Athens, form one of the most affecting episodes in the history of antiquity. In the Peloponnesian War the Plataeans again were true to the Athenians against all risks and all calculation of self-interest ; and the destruction of Plataea was the consequence. There are few nobler passages in the classics than the speech in which the Plataean prisoners of war, after the memorable siege of their citj% justify before their Spartan executioners their loyal adherence to Athens. See Thucydides, lib. iii. sees. 53-60. * At the battle of Plataea, eleven years after Marathon, each of the eight thousand Athenian regular infantrj' who served there was attended by a light-armed slave. Herod, lib. viii. c. 28, 29. BATTLE OF MARATHON 5 Athenians. Nor could Greek generals then feel that confi- dence in the superior quality of their troops, Avhich ever since the battle of Marathon has animated Europeans in conflicts with Asiatics ; as, for instance, in the after struggles between Greece and Persia, or when the Roman legions encountered the myriads of Mithridates and Tigranes, or as is the case in the Indian campaigns of our own regiments. On the contrary, up to the day of Marathon the Medes and Persians were reputed invincible. They had more than once met Greek troops in Asia Minor, in Cyprus, in Egypt, and had invariably beaten them. Nothing can be stronger than the expressions used by the early Greek writers respecting the terror which the name of the Medes inspired, and the prostration of men's spirits before the apparently resistless career of the Persian arms.^ It is, therefore, little to be wondered at, that five of the ten Athenian generals shrank from the prospect of fighting a pitched battle against an enemy so superior in numbers and so formidable in military renown. Their own position on the heights was strong, and offered great advantages to a small defending force against assailing masses. They deemed it mere foolhardincss to descend into the plain to be trampled down by the Asiatic horse, overwhelmed with the archery, or cut to pieces by the invincible veterans of Cambyses and Cyrus. Moreover, Sparta, the great war- state of Greece, had been applied to, and had promised succour to Athens, though the religious observance which the Dorians paid to certain times and seasons had for the present delayed their march. Was it not wise, at any rate, to wait till the Spartans came up, and to have the help of the best troops in Greece, before they exposed themselves to the shock of the dreaded Medes ? Specious as these reasons might appear, the other five generals were for speedier and bolder operations. And, fortunately for Athens and for the world, one of them was a man, not only of the highest military genius, but also of *• ^Adrjvaioi rrpwTOi o.viaxoi'TO loOriTo. re Mtj^iktiv opwvTfs, iiai touj avdpas ravTTjv (c6rifj.ivovi. Tfois 5^ -qv roicn "EWrjai Kai to ovvoixa To Mrjlojv (] ul3oi oLKodaai. — Herodotus, lib. vi. c. 112. At 5e 'yvwfj.ai StSovXaif.Ki'ai aTiavTcnv dvOpdjr.ojv rjOav. ovtoj rroXXa Kai fueyaXa ical ixdx'pa, -^ivT) KaTaStSovhcufxivr] ^v 77 UepaMv dpxi]. — Plato, Menexenus. 6 BATTLE OF MARATHON that energetic character which impresses its own type and ideas upon spirits feebler in conception. Miltiades was the head of one of the noblest houses at Athens : he ranked the Aeacidae among his ancestry, and the blood of Achilles flowed in the veins of the hero of Marathon. One of his immediate ancestors had acquired the dominion of the Thracian Chersonese, and thus the family became at the same time Athenian citizens and Thracian princes. This occurred at the time when Pisis- tratus was tyrant of Athens. Two of the relatives of Miltiades — an uncle of the same name, and a brother named Stesagoras — had ruled the Chersonese before Mil- tiades became its prince. He had been brought up at Athens in the house of his father Cimon,^ who was renowned throughout Greece for his victories in the Olympic chariot- races, and who must have been possessed of great wealth. The sons of Pisistratus, who succeeded their father in the tyranny. at Athens, caused Cimon to be assassinated, ^ but they treated the young Miltiades with favour and kindness ; and when his brother Stesagoras died in the Chersonese, they sent him out there as lord of the principality. This was about twenty-eight years before the battle of Marathon, and it is with his arrival in the Chersonese that our first knowledge of the career and character of Miltiades com- mences. We find, in the first act recorded of him, proof of the same resolute and unscrupulous spirit that marked his mature age. His brother's authority in the principality had been shaken b}^ Mar and revolt : Miltiades determined to rule more securely. On his arrival he kept close within his house, as if he was mourning for his brother. The principal men of the Chersonese, hearing of this, assembled from all the toMTis and districts, and went together to the house of Miltiades on a visit of condolence. As soon as he had thus got them in his power, he made them all prisoners. He then asserted and maintained his o^m absolute authority in the peninsula, taking into his pay a body of five hundred regular troops, and strengthening his interest by marrying the daughter of the king of the neighbouring Tln-acians. When the Persian power was extended to the Hellespont 1 Herodotus, lib. vi. c. 103. • Ibid. BATTLE OF MARATHON 7 and its neighbourhood, Miltiades, as prince of the Cher- sonese, submitted to King Darius ; and he was one of the numerous tributary rulers who led their contingents of men to serve in the Persian army in the expedition against Scythia. Miltiades and the vassal Greeks of Asia Minor were left by the Persian king in charge of the bridge across the Danube, when the invading army crossed that river, and plunged into the wilds of the country that now is Russia, in vain pursuit of the ancestors of the modern Cossacks. On learning the reverses that Darius met with in the Scythian wilderness, Miltiades proposed to his companions that they should break the bridge down, and leave the Persian king and his army to perish by famine and the Scythian arrows. The rulers of the Asiatic Greek cities whom Miltiades addressed shrank from this bold and ruthless stroke against the Persian power, and Darius returned in safety. But it was known what advice Miltiades had given ; and the vengeance of Darius was thenceforth specially directed against the man who had counselled such a deadly blow against his empire and his person. The occupation of the Persian arms in other quarters left Miltiades for some years after this in possession of the Chersonese ; but it was precarious and interrupted. He, however, availed himself of the opportunity which his position gave him of conciliating the goodwill of his fellow countrymen at Athens, by conquering and placing under Athenian authority the islands of Lemnos and Imbros, to which Athens had ancient claims, but which she had never previously been able to bring into complete subjection. At length, in 494 B.C., the complete suppression of the Ionian revolt by the Persians left their armies and fleets at liberty to act against the enemies of the Great King to the west of the Hellespont. A strong squadron of Phoe- nician galleys was sent against the Chersonese. Miltiades knew that resistance was hopeless ; and while the Phoe- nicians were at Tenedos, he loaded five galleys with all the treasure that he could collect, and sailed away for Athens. The Phoenicians fell in with him, and chased him hard along the north of the Aegean. One of his galleys, on board of which was his eldest son, Metiochus, was actually captured ; but Miltiades, with the other four, succeeded 8 BATTLE OF MARATHON in reaching the friendly coast of Imbros in safely. Thence he afterwards proceeded to Athens, and resumed his station as a free citizen of the Athenian commonwealth. The Athenians at this time had recently expelled Hipjiias, the son of Pisistratus, the last of their tyrants. They were in the full glow of their newly recovered liberty and equality ; and the constitutional changes of Cleisthenes had inflamed their republican zeal to the utmost. Miltiades had enemies at Athens ; and these, availing themselves of the state of popular feeling, brought him to trial for his life for having been tyrant of the Chersonese. The charge did not necessarily import any acts of cruelty or wrong to individuals : it was founded on no specific law ; but it was based on the horror with which the Greeks of that age regarded every man who made himself compulsory master of his fellow men, and exercised irresponsible dominion over them. The fact of Miltiades having so ruled in the Chersonese was undeniable ; but the question which the Athenians, assembled in judgement, must have tried, was whether Miltiades, by becoming tyrant of the Chersonese, deserved punishment as an Athenian citizen. The eminent service that he had done the state in conquering Lemnos and Imbros for it, pleaded strongly in his favour. The people refused to convict him. He stood high in public opinion ; and when the coming invasion of the Persians was known, the people wisely elected him one of their generals for the year. Two other men of signal eminence in history, though their renown was achieved at a later period than that of Miltiades, were also among the ten Athenian generals at Marathon. One was Themistocles, the future founder of the Athenian navy and the destined victor of Salamis ; the other was Aristides, Avho afterwards led the Athenian troops at Plataea, and Avhose integrity and just popularity acquired for his country, when the Persians had finally been repulsed, the advantageous pre-eminence of being acknowledged by half of the Greeks as their impartial leader and protector. It is not recorded Avhat part either Themis- tocles or Aristides took in the debate of the council of war at Marathon. But from the character of Themistocles, his boldness, and his intuitive genius for extemporizing the BATTLE OF MARATHON 9 best measures in every emergency ^ (a quality which the greatest of historians ascribes to him beyond all his contem- poraries), we may well believe that the vote of Themistocles was for prompt and decisive action. On the vote of Aris- tides it may be more difficult to speculate. His predilection for the Spartans may have made him wish to wait till they came up ; but, though circumspect, he was neither timid as a soldier nor as a politician ; and the bold advice of Miltiades may probably have found in Aristides a willing, most assuredly it found in him a candid hearer. Miltiades felt no hesitation as to the course which tho Athenian army ought to pursue : and earnestly did he press his opinion on his brother -generals. Practically acquainted with the organization of the Persian armies, Miltiades was convinced of the superiority of the Greek troops, if properly handled : he saw with the military eye of a great general the advantage which the position of the forces gave him for a sudden attack, and as a profound politician, he felt the perils of remaining inactive, and of giving treachery time to ruin the Athenian cause. One officer in the council of war had not yet voted. This was Callimachus, the War-Ruler. The votes of the generals were five and five, so that the voice of Callimachus would be decisive. On that vote, in all human probability, the destiny of all the nations of the world depended. Miltiades turned to him, and in simple soldierly eloquence, the substance of which we may read faithfully reported in Herodotus, who had conversed with the veterans of Marathon, the great Athenian thus adjured his countryman to vote for giving battle : ' It now rests with you, Callimachus, either to enslave Athens, or, by assuring her freedom, to win yourself an immortality of fame, such as not even Harmodius and Aristogeiton have acquired. For never, since the Athe- nians were a people, were they in such danger as they are in at this moment. If they bow the knee to these Medes, * See the character of Themistocles in the 138th section of the first book of Thucydidcs, especially the last sentence. Kai to ^v/xirav elntii^ (pvaius ixiv 5vvdfj,(i, /xeAcT;;. 5« IdpaxurijTt icpariaTos 5^ oSros auro(rx«5idt,''6ii/ rH SiOPra eytueTO, 10 BATTLE OF MARATHON they are to be given up to Hippias, and you know Avhab they then will have to suffer. But if Athens comes victori- ous out of this contest, she has it in her to become the first city of Greece. Your vote is to decide whether we are to join battle or not. If we do not bring on a battle presently, some factious intrigue will disunite the Athenians, and the city will be betrayed to the Medes. But if we fight, before there is anything rotten in the state of Athens, I believe that, provided the Gods will give fair play and no favour, we are able to get the best of it in the engagement.' ^ The vote of the brave War-Buler was gained ; the council determined to give battle ; and such was the ascendancy and militar}^ eminence of Miltiades, that his brother-generals, one and all, gave up their days of command to him, and cheerfullj^ acted under his orders. Fearful, however, of creating any jealousy, and of so failing to obtain the co-operation of all parts of his small army, Miltiades waited till the day when the chief command would have come round to him in regular rotation, before he led the troops against the enemy. The inaction of the Asiatic commanders, during this interval, appears strange at first sight ; but Hippias was with them, and they and he were aware of their chance of a bloodless conquest through the machinations of his par- tisans among the Athenians. The nature of the ground also explains, in many points, the tactics of the opposite generals before the battle, as well as the operations of the troops during the engagement. The plain of Marathon, which is about twenty-two miles distant from Athens, lies along the bay of the same name * Herodotus, lib. vi. sec. 109. The 116th section is to my mind clear proof that Heredotus had personally conversed with Epizelus, one of the veterans of Marathon. The substance of the speech of Miltiades would naturally become known by the report of some of his colleagues. The speeches which ancient historians place in the mouth of kings and generals are generally inventions of their own ; but part of the speech of Miltiades bears internal evidence of authenticity. Such is the case with tha remarkable expression fjv Si avfxjidXwfjuv -npiv n koI aadpov 'AOrjvaiwv nfre^- (Tfpotai eyyfveaOat, 6t!l)v to. taa vfnovTwv, oloi re (iixfv TTfpiyfViaOat rr) ffvfxPoXfj. This daring and almost irreverent assertion would never have been coined by Herodotus, but it is precisely consonant with what we know of the character of Miltiades ; and it is an expression which, if used by him, would be sure to be remembered and repeated by his hearers. BATTLE OF MARATHON 11 on the north-eastern coast of Attica. The plain is nearly in the form of a crescent, and about six miles in length. It is about two miles broad in the centre, where the space between the mountains and the sea is greatest, but it narrows towards either extremity, the mountains coming close down to the water at the horns of the bay. There is a valley trending inwards from the middle of the plain, and a ravine comes down to it to the southward. Elsewhere it is closely girt round on the land side by rugged limestone mountains, which are thickly studded with pines, olive- trees, and cedars, and overgrown with the myrtle, arbutus, and the other low odoriferous shrubs that everywhere perfume the Attic air. The level of the ground is now varied by the mound raised over those who fell in the battle, but it was an unbroken plain when the Persians encamped on it. There are marshes at each end, which are dry in spring and summer, and then offer no obstruction to the horsemen, but are commonly flooded with rain and so rendered impracticable for cavalry in the autumn, the time of year at which the action took place. ^ The Greeks, lying encamped on the mountains, could watch every movement of the Persians on the plain below, while they were enabled completely to mask their own. Miltiades also had, from his jDosition, the power of giving battle whenever he pleased, or of delaying it at his discre- tion, unless Datis were to attempt the perilous operation of storming the heights. If we turn to the map of the old world, to test the com- parative territorial resources of the two states whose armies were now about to come into conflict, the immense pre- ponderance of the material poAver of the Persian king over that of the Athenian republic is m-^re striking than any similar contrast which histroy can supply. It has been truly remarked that, in estimating mere areas, Attica, containing on its whole surface only seven hundred square miles, shrinks into insignificance if compared with many a baronial fief of the Middle Ages, or many a colonial allotment of modern times. Its antagonist, the Persian empire, comprised the whole of modern Asiatic and much of modern European Turkey, the modern kingdom of Persia, 1 See Plan at p. 25. 12 BATTLE OF MARATHON and the countries of modern Georgia, Armenia, Balkh, the Punjaub, Afghanistan, Beloochistan, Egypt, and Tripoli. Nor could a European, in the beginning of the fifth cen- tury before our era, look upon this huge accumulation of power beneath the sceptre of a single Asiatic ruler, with the indifference with which we now observe on the map the extensive dominions of modern Oriental sovereigns. For, as has been already remarked, before Marathon was fought, the j)restige of success and of sujoposed superiority of race was on the side of the Asiatic against the European. Asia was the original seat of human societies ; and long before any trace can be found of the inhabitants of the rest of the world having emerged from the rudest barbarism, we can perceive that mighty and brilliant empires flourished in the Asiatic continent. They appear before us through the twi- light of primaeval history, dim and indistinct, but massive and majestic, like mountains in the early dawn. Instead, however, of the infinite variety and restless change which have characterized the institutions and fortunes of European states ever since the commencement of the civilization of our continent, a monotonous uniformity pervades the histories of nearly all Oriental empires, from the most ancient down to the most recent times. They are characterized by the rapidity of their early conquests ; by the immense extent of the dominions comprised in them ; by the establishment of a satrap or pacha system of govern- ing the provinces ; by an invariable and speedy degeneracy in the princes of the royal house, the effeminate nurslings of the seraglio succeeding to the warrior-sovereigns reared in the camp ; and by the internal anarchy and insurrec- tions, which indicate and accelerate the decline and fall of these unwieldy and ill-organized fabrics of power. It is also a striking fact that the governments of all the great Asiatic empires have in all ages been absolute despotisms. And Heeren is right in connecting this with another great fact, which is important from its influence both on the political and the social life of Asiatics. 'Among all the considerable nations of Inner Asia, the paternal government of every household Avas corrupted by pol3"gamy : where that custoin exists, a good political constitution is impossible. Fathers being converted into domestic despots, are ready BATTLE OF MARATHON 13 to pay the same abject obedience to their sovereign which they exact from their family and dependents in their domestic economy.' We should bear in mind, also, the inseparable connexion between the state religion and all legislation, which has always prevailed in the East, and the constant existence of a powerful sacerdotal body, exercising some check, though precarious and irregular, over the throne itself, grasping at all civil administration, claiming the supreme control of education, stereotyj^ing the lines in which literature and science must move, and limiting the extent to which it shall be lawful for the human mind to prosecute its inquiries. With these general characteristics rightly felt and under- stood, it becomes a comparatively easy task to investi- gate and appreciate the origin, progress, and principles of Oriental empires in general, as well as of the Persian mon- archy in particular. And we are thus better enabled to appreciate the rej^ulse which Greece gave to the arms of the East, and to judge of the probable consequences to human civilization, if the Persians had succeeded in bringing Europe under their yoke, as they had already subjugated the fairest portions of the rest of the then knoAvn world. The Greeks, from their geographical position, formed the natural vanguard of European liberty against Persian ambition ; and they pre-eminently displayed the salient points of distinctive national character, which have ren- dered European civilization so far superior to Asiatic. The nations that dwelt in ancient times around and near the northern shores of the Mediterranean Sea were the first in our continent to receive from the East the rudiments of art and literature, and the germs of social and political organization. Of these nations, the Greeks, through their vicinity to Asia Minor, Phoenicia, and Egypt, were among the very foremost in acquiring the principles and habits of civilized life ; and they also at once imparted a new and wholly original stamp on all which they received. Thus, in their religion they received from foreign settlers the names of all their deities and many of their rites, but they discarded the loathsome monstrosities of the Nile, the Orontes, and the Ganges ; — ^they nationalized their creed ; and their own poets created their beautiful mythology. 14 BATTLE OF MARATHON No sacerdotal caste ever existed in Greece. So, in their governments they lived long under hereditary kings, but never endured the permanent establishment of absolute monarchy. Their early kings were constitutional rulers, governing with defined prerogatives.^ And long before the Persian invasion the kingly form of government had given way in almost all the Greek states to republican institutions, presenting infinite varieties of the balancing or the alternate predominance of the oligarchical and democratical princi- ples. In literature and science the Greek intellect followed no beaten track, and acknowledged no limitary rules. The Greeks thought their subjects boldly out ; and the novelty of a speculation invested it in their minds wdth interest and not with criminality. Versatile, restless, enterprising, and self-confident, the Greeks presented the most striking con- trast to the habitual quietude and submissiveness of the Orientals. And, of all the Greeks, the Athenians exhibited these national characteristics in the strongest degree. This spirit of activity and darmg, joined to a generous sympathy for the fate of their fellow Greeks in Asia, had led them to join in the last Ionian war ; and now, mingling with their abhorrence of the usurping family of their own citizens, which for a period had forcibly seized on and exercised despotic power at Athens, it nerved them to defy the wTath of King Darius, and to refuse to receive back at his bidding the tyrant whom they had some years before driven from their land. The enterprise and genius of an Englishman have lately confirmed by fresh evidence, and invested Avith fresh interest, the might of the Persian monarch who sent his troops to combat at Marathon. Inscriptions in a character termed the Arrow-headed, or Cuneiform, had long been knoA\Ti to exist on the marble monuments at Persepolis, near the site of the ancient Susa, and on the faces of rocks in other places formerly ruled over by the early Persian kings. But for thousands of years they had been mere unintelligible enigmas to the curious but baffled beholder ; and thej^ were often referred to as instances of the folly of human pride, which could indeed write its own praises in the solid rock, but only for the rock to outlive the language as well as the memory of the vainglorious inscribers. The elder Niebuhr, ^ 'Ewi prjTols jf paai TTarpiKal fiaaiXdai. — Thxjcyd. lib. i. sec. 13. BATTLE OF MARATHON 15 Grotefend, and Lassen had made some guesses at the mean- ing of the Cuneiform letters ; but Major Rawlinson, of the East India Company's service, after years of labour, has at last accomplished the glorious achievement of fully reveal- ing the alphabet and the grammar of this long unknown tongue. He has, in particular, fully deciphered and ex- pounded the inscriptions on the sacred rock of Behistun, on the western frontiers of Media. These records of the Achaemenidae have at length found their interpreter ; and Darius himself speaks to us from the consecrated mountain, and tells us the names of the nations that obeyed him, the revolts that he suppressed, his victories, his piety, and hia glory. ^ Kings who thus seek the admiration of posterity are little likely to dim the record of their successes by the mention of their occasional defeats ; and it throws no suspicion on the narrative of the Greek historians, that we find these inscriptions silent respecting the overthrow of Datis and Artaphernes, as well as respecting the reverses which Darius sustained in person during his Scythian campaigns. But these indisputable monuments of Persian fame confirm, and even increase, the opinion with which Herodotus inspires us, of the vast power which Cyrus founded and Cambyses increased ; which Darius augmented by Indian and Arabian conquests, and seemed likely, when he directed his arms against Europe, to make the predomi- nant monarchy of the world. With the exception of the Chinese empire, in which, throughout all ages down to the last few years, one-third of the human race has dwelt almost imconnectcd with the other portions, all the great kingdoms, which we know to have existed in ancient Asia, were, in Darius's time, blended with the Persian. The northern Indians, the Assyrians, the Sjrrians, the Babylonians, the Chaldees, the Phoenicians, the nations of Palestine, the Armenians, the Bactrians, the Lydians, the Phrygians, the Parthians, and the Medes — all obeyed the sceptre of the Great King : the Medes standing next to the native Persians in honour, and the empire being frequently spoken of as that of the Medes, or as that of the Medes and Persians. Egypt and Cyrene ^ See the tenth volume of the Journal oj the Royal Asiatic Society. IG BATTLE OF MARATHON were Persian provinces ; the Greek colonists in Asia Minor and the islands of the Aegean were Darius's subjects ; and their gallant but unsuccessful attempts to throw off the Persian yoke had only served to rivet it more strongly, and to increase the general belief that the Greeks could not stand before the Persians in a field of battle. Darius 's Scythian war, though unsuccessful in its immediate object, had brought about the subjugation of Thrace and the sub- mission of Macedonia, From the Indus to the Peneus, all was his. We may imagine the ■\^Tath with which the lord of so many nations must have heard, nine years before the battle of Marathon, that a strange nation towards the setting sun, called the Athenians, had dared to help his rebels in Ionia against him, and that they had plundered and burnt the capital of one of his provinces. Before the burning of Sardis, Darius seems never to have heard of the existence of Athens ; but his satraps in Asia Minor had for some time seen Athenian refugees at their provincial courts imploring assistance against their fellow countrjanen. When Hij)pias M'as driven away from Athens, and the tyrannic dynasty of the Pisistratidae finallj^ overthrown in 510 B.C., the banished tyrant and his adherents, after vainly seeking to be restored by Spartan intervention, had betaken themselves to Sardis, the capital citj^ of the satrapy of Artaphernes. There Hippias (in the expressive words of Herodotus)^ began every kind of agitation, slandering the Athenians before Artaphernes, and doing all he could to induce the satrap to place Athens in subjection to him, as the tributary vassal of I^ng Darius. When the Athenians heard of his prac- tices, they sent envoys to Sardis to remonstrate with the Persians against taking up the quarrel of the Athenian refugees. But Artaphernes gave them in reply a menacing command to receive Hippias back again if they looked for safety. The Athenians were resolved not to purchase safety at such a price ; and after rejecting the satrap's terms, they considered that they and the Persians were declared enemies. At this very crisis the Ionian Greeks implored the assistance of their Euroj)ean brethren to enable them to recover their independence from Persia. Athens, and 1 Herod, lib. v. c. 96. BATTLE OF MARATHON 17 the city of Eretria in Euboea, alone consented. Twenty Athenian galleys, and five Eretrian, crossed the Aegean Sea ; and by a bold and sudden march upon Sardis the Athenians and their allies succeeded in capturing the capital city of the haughty satrap, who had recently menaced them with servitude or destruction. The Persian forces were soon rallied, and the Greeks were compelled to retire. They were pursued, and defeated on their return to the coast, and Athens took no further part in the Ionian war. But the insult that she had put upon the Persian power was speedily made known throughout that empire, and was never to be forgiven or forgotten. In the emphatic sim- plicity of the narrative of Herodotus, the wrath of the Great King is thus described : ' Noav when it was told to King Darius that Sardis had been taken and burnt by the Athenians and lonians, he took small heed of the lonians, well knoAving who they were, and that their revolt would soon be put down : but he asked who, and what manner of men, the Athenians were. And when he had been told, he called for his bow ; and having taken it, and placed an arrow on the string, he let the arrow fly towards heaven ; and as he shot it into the air, he said, " Supreme God ! grant me that I may avenge myself on the Athenians ". And when he had said this, he appointed one of his servants to say to him every day as he sat at meat, " Sire, remember the Athenians ".' Some years were occupied in the complete reduction of Ionia. But when this was effected, Darius ordered his victorious forces to proceed to punish Athens and Eretria, and to conquer European Greece. The first armament sent for this purpose was shattered by shipwreck, and nearly destroyed ofE Mount Athos. But the purpose of King Darius was not easily shaken. A larger army was ordered to be collected in Cilicia ; and requisitions were sent to all the maritime cities of the Persian empire for ships of war, and for transports of sufficient size for carrying cavalry as well as infantry across the Aegean. While these preparations were being made, Darius sent heralds round to the Grecian cities demanding their submission to Persia, It was proclaimed in the market-place of each little Hellenic state (some with territories not larger than the Isle of CREASY C 18 BATTLE OF MARATHON Wight), that King Darius, the lord of all men, from the rising to the setting sun,^ required earth and water to be delivered to his heralds, as a symbolical acknowledgement that he was head and master of the country. Terror- stricken at the power of Persia, and at the severe punish- ment that had recently been inflicted on the refractory lonians, many of the continental Greeks and nearly all the islanders submitted, and gave the required tokens of vassalage. At Sparta and Athens an indignant refusal was returned : a refusal which was disgraced by outrage and violence against the persons of the Asiatic heralds. Fresh fuel was thus added to the anger of Darius against Athens, and the Persian preparations went on with renewed vigour. In the summer of 490 B.C., the army destined for the invasion was assembled in the Aleian plain of Cilicia, near the sea. A fleet of six hundred galleys and numerous transports was collected on the coast for the embarkation of troops, horse as well as foot. A Median general named Datis, and Artaphernes, the son of the satrap of Sardis, and who was also nephew of Darius, were placed in titular joint command of the expedition. That the real supreme authority was given to Datis alone is probable, from the way in which the Greek writers speak of him. We know no details of the previous career of this officer ; but there is every reason to believe that his abilities and bravery had been proved by experience, or his Median birth would have prevented his being placed in high command by Darius. He appears to have been the first Mede who was thus trusted by the Persian kings after the overthrow of the conspiracy of the Median Magi against the Persians imme- diately before Darius obtained the throne. Datis received instructions to complete the subjugation of Greece, and especial orders were given him with regard to Eretria and Athens. He was to take these two cities ; and he was to * Acschincs in Ctes. p. 522, ed. Reiske. Mitford, vol. i. p. 485. Aeschines is speaking of Xerxes, but Mitford is probably right in con- sidering it as the style of the Persian kings in their proclamations. In one of the inscriptions at Persepolis, Darius terms himself ' Darius the great king, king of kings, the king of the many peopled countries, the supporter also of this great world '. In another, he styles himself ' the king of all inhabited countries '. (See Asiatic Journal, vol. x. pp. 287 and 292, and Major Rawlinson's Comments.) BATTLE OF MARATHON 19 lead the inhabitants away captive, and bring them as slaves into the p^-esence of the Great King. Datis embarked his forces in the fleet that awaited them ; and coasting along the shores of Asia Minor till he was off Samos, he thence sailed due westward through the Aegean Sea for Greece, taking the islands in his way. The Naxians had, ten years before, successfully stood a siege against a Persian armament, but they now were too terrified to offer any resistance, and fled to the mountain-tops, while the enemy burnt their town and laid waste their lands. Thence Datis, compelling the Greek islanders to join him with their ships and men, sailed onward to the coast of Euboea. The little town of Carystus essayed resistance, but was quickly overpowered. He next attacked Eretria. The Athenians sent four thousand men to its aid. But treachery was at work among the Eretrians ; and the Athenian force re- ceived timely warning from one of the leading men of the city to retire to aid in saving their own country, instead of remaining to share in the inevitable destruction of Eretria. Left to themselves, the Eretrians repulsed the assaults of the Persians against their walls for six days ; on the seventh day they were betrayed by two of their chiefs, and the Persians occupied the city. The temples were burnt in revenge for the burning of Sardis, and the inhabitants were bound and placed as prisoners in the neighbouring islet of Aegylia, to wait there till Datis should bring the Athenians to join them in captivity, when both populations were to be led into Upper Asia, there to learn their doom from the lips of King Darius himself. Flushed with success, and with half his mission thus accomplished, Datis reimbarked his troops, and crossing the little channel that separates Euboea from the mainland, he encamped his troops on the Attic coast at Marathon, draw- ing up his galleys on the shelving beach, as was the custom with the navies of antiquity. The conquered islands behind him served as places of deposit for his provisions and military stores. His position at Marathon seemed to him in every respect advantageous ; and the level nature of the ground on which he camped was favourable for the employment of his cavalry, if the Athenians should venture to engage him. Hippias, who accompanied him, and acted C2 20 BATTLE OF MARATHON as the guide of the invaders, had pointed out Marathon as the best place for a landing, for this very reason. Probably Hippias was also influenced by the recollection that, forty- seven years previously, he with his father Pisistratus had crossed with an army from Eretria to Marathon, and had won an easy victory over their Athenian enemies on that very plain, which had restored them to tyrannic power. The omen seemed cheering. The place was the same ; but Hippias soon learned to his cost how great a change had come over the spirit of the Athenians. But though ' the fierce democracy ' of Athens was zealous and true against foreign invader and domestic tyrant, a faction existed in Athens, as at Eretria, of men willing to purchase a party-triumph over their fellow citizens at the price of their country's ruin. Communications were opened between these men and the Persian camp, which would have led to a catastrophe like that of Eretria, if Miltiades had not resolved, and had not persuaded his colleagues to resolve, on fighting at all hazards. When Miltiades arraj^ed his men for action, he staked on the arbitrement of one battle not only the fate of Athens, but that of all Greece ; for if Athens had fallen, no other Greek state, except Lacedaemon, would have had the courage to resist ; and the Lacedaemonians, though they would probably have died in their ranks to the last man, never could have successfully resisted the victorious Persians, and the numerous Greek troops, which would have soon marched under the Persian satraps, had they prevailed over Athens. Nor was there any power to the westward of Greece that could have offered an effectual ojDposition to Persia, had she once conquered Greece, and made that country a basis for future military operations. Rome was at this time in her season of utmost weakness. Her dynasty of powerful Etruscan kings had been driven out, and her infant com- monwealth was reeling under the attacks of the Etrviscans and Volscians from without, and the fierce dissensions between the patricians and plebeians within. Etruria, with her Lucumos and serfs, was no match for Persia. Samnium had not groA^ni into the might which she after- wards put forth, nor could the Greek colonies in South Italy BATTLE OF MARATHON 21 and Sicily hope to survive Avhen their parent states had perished. Carthage had escaped the Persian yolve in the time of Cambyses, through the reluctance of the Phoenician mariners to serve against their kinsmen. But such for- bearance could not long have been relied on, and the future rival of Rome would have become as submissive a ministtr of the Persian power as were the Phoenician cities them- selves. If we turn to Spain, or if we pass the great moun- tain cham, A\'hich, prolonged through the Pyrenees, the Cevennes, the Alps, and the Balkans, divides Northern from Southern Europe, we shall find nothing at that period but mere savage Finns, Celts, Slaves, and Teutons. Had Persia beaten Athens at Marathon, she could have found no ob- stacle to prevent Darius, the chosen servant of Ormuzd, from advancing his sway over all the known Western races of man- kind. The infant energies of Europe would have been trodden out beneath universal conquest ; andthehistory of the world, like the history of Asia, would have become a mere record of the rise and fall of despotic dynasties, of the incursions of barbarous hordes, and of the mental and political prostration of millions beneath the diadem, the tiara, and the sword. Great as the preponderance of the Persian over the Athenian power at that crisis seems to have been, it would be unjust to impute wild rashness to the policy of Miltiades, and those who voted with him in the Athenian council of war, or to look on the after-current of events as the mere result of successful indiscretion. As before has been remarked, Miltiades, whilst prince of the Chersonese, had seen service in the Persian armies ; and he knew by personal observation how many elements of weakness lurked beneath their imposing aspect of strength. He knew that the bulk of their troops no longer consisted of the hardy shepherds and mountaineers from Persia Proper and Kurdistan, who won Cyrus's battles ; but that unwilling contingents from conquered nations now largely filled up the Persian muster- rolls, fighting more from compulsion than from any zeal in the cause of their masters. He had also the sagacity and the spirit to appreciate the superiority of the Greek armour and organization over the Asiatic, notwithstanding former reverses. Above all, he felt and worthily trusted the enthusiasm of the men under his command. 22 BATTLE OF MARATHON The Athenians, whom he lea, had proved by their new- born valour in recent wars against the neighbouring states, that ' Liberty and Equality of civic rights are brave spirit- stirring things : and they who, while under the yoke of a despot, had been no better men of war than any of their neighbours, as soon as they were free, became the foremost men of all ; for each felt that in fighting for a free common- wealth, he fought for himself, and, whatever he took in hand, he was zealous to do the work thoroughly '. So the nearly contemporaneous historian describes the change of spirit that was seen in the Athenians after their tyrants were expelled ; ^ and Miltiades knew that in leading them against the invading army, where they had Hippias, the foe they most hated, before them, he was bringing into battle no ordinary men, and could calculate on no ordinary heroism. As for traitors, he was sure, that whatever treachery might lurk among some of the higher-born and wealthier Athenians, the rank and file whom he commanded were ready to do their utmost in his and their own cause. With regard to future attacks from Asia, he might reason- ably hope that one victory would inspirit all Greece to combine against the common foe ; and that the latent seeds of revolt and disunion in the Persian empire would soon burst forth and paralyse its energies, so as to leave Greek independence secure. With these hopes and risks, Miltiades, on the afternoon of a September day, 490 B.C., gave the word for the Athe- nian army to prepare for battle. There were many local associations connected with those mountain heights, which ^ 'A9rjVutoi iiiv vvv rjv^rjvro' Sr]\oT 5e ov Kar' (v fiovvov dWd vavraxfl tj iarjyop'irj d)j tort y^prj^ia airovSaiuv, fi Kal ^ hdrjvaioi rvpavvevu^itvoi. fi\v ov^apLUf rwv fj.tvoi fxtv idiXoKaKiov, uis Sianorrj (pya^u/xivot, e\(v9epaj$(VTajy Se avrus (Kaaros (wvtw TrpofOv^eeTo Karepyo^faOai. — Herod, lib. v. c. 78. Mr. Grote's comment on this is one of the most eloquent and philo- sophical passages in his admirable fourth volume. The expression laTjyoph] \pfjpia anovZaLuv is like some lines in old Barbour's poem of The Bruce : Ah, Freedome is a noble thing : Fredome makes man to haiff lyking. Fredome all solace to men gives. He lives at ease, that freely lives. BATTLE OF MARATHON 23 were calculated powerfully to excite the spirits of the men, and of which the commanders well knew how to avail them- selves in their exhortations to their troops before the encounter. Marathon itself was a region sacred to Her- cules. Close to them was the fountain of Macaria, who had in days of yore devoted herself to death for the liberty of her people. The very plain on which they were to fight was the scene of the exploits of their national hero, Theseus ; and there, too, as old legends told, the Athenians and the Heraclidae had routed the invader Eurystheus. These traditions were not mere cloudy myths, or idle fictions, but matters of implicit earnest faith to the men of that day : and many a fervent prayer arose from the Athenian ranks to the heroic spirits who while on earth had striven and suffered on that very spot, and who were believed to be now heavenly powers, looking down with interest on their still beloved country, and capable of interposing with superhuman aid in its behalf. According to old national custom, the warriors of each tribe were arrayed together ; neighbour thus fighting by the side of neighbour, friend by friend, and the spirit of , emulation and the consciousness of responsibility excited to the very utmost. The War-Ruler, Callimachus, had the leading of the right wing ; the Plataeans formed the extreme left ; and Themistocles and Aristides commanded the centre. The line consisted of the heavy-armed spearmen only. For the Greeks (until the time of Iphicrates) took little or no account of light-armed soldiers in a pitched battle, using them only in skirmishes or for the pursuit of a defeated enemy. The panoply of the regular infantry consisted of a long spear, of a shield, helmet, breast-plate, greaves, and short sword. Thus equipped, they usually advanced slowly and steadily into action in a uniform phalanx of about eight spears deep. But the military genius of Miltiades led him to deviate on this occasion from the commonplace tactics of his countrymen. It was essential for him to extend his line so as to cover all the practicable ground, and to secure himself from being out- flanked and charged in the rear by the Persian horse. This extension involved the weakening of his line. Instead of a uniform reduction of its strength, he determined on 2-1 BATTLE OF MARATHON detaching princij)ally from his centre, which, from the nature of the ground, would have the best opportunities for rallying if broken, and on strengthening his wings, so as to ensure advantage at those points ; and he trusted to his own skill, and to his soldiers' discipline, for the improve- ment of that advantage into decisive victory.^ In this order, and availing himself probably of the inequalities of the ground, so as to conceal his preparations from the enemy till the last possible moment, Miltiades drew up the eleven thousand infantry, whose spears were to decide this crisis in the struggle between the European and the Asiatic worlds. The sacrifices, by which the favour of Heaven was sought, and its will consulted, were announced to show propitious omens. The trumpet sounded for action, and, chanting the hjaiin of battle, the little armj^ bore down upon the host of the foe. Then, too, along the mountain slopes of Marathon must have resounded the mutual exhortation which Aeschylus, who fought in both battles, tells us was afterwards heard over the waves of Salamis, — ' On, sons of the Greeks ! Strike for the freedom of your country — strike for the freedom of your children and of your wives— for the shrines of your fathers' gods, and for the sepulchres of your sires. All — all are noAV staked upon the strife.' 'il TTatSes 'EWtjvuv, ire, e\fv0f povTf iTaTpi8\ eKevBepovre 8i TratSas, yvyat/cas, Gedic re jiaTpwctiv tSr], 6r]icas t« irpoyovwV vvv vwip -navToiv a'^/wv} Instead of advancing at the usual slow pace of the l^halanx, Miltiades brought his men on at a run. They were all trained in the exercises of the palaestra, so that there was no fear of their ending the charge in breathless exhaustion : and it was of the deepest imj)ortance for him ^ It is remarkable that there is no other instance of a Greek general deviating from the ordinary mode of bringing a phalanx of spearmen into action, until the battles of Leuctra and Mantineia, more than a century after Marathon, when Epaminondas introduced the tactics (which Alexander the Great in ancient times, and Frederick the Great in modern times made so famous) of concentrating an overpowering force on some decisive point of the enemy's line, while he k<>pt back, or, in militarj' phrase, refused the weaker part of his own. * Persae, 402. BATTLE OF MARATHON 25 to traverse as rapidly as possible the space of about a mile of level ground, that lay between the mountain foot and the Persian outposts, and so to get his troops into close action, before the Asiatic cavalry could mount, form, and manoeuvre against him, or their archers keej) him long under bow-shot, and before the enemy's generals could fairly deploy their masses. fLAN OW Tilfi BATTLE OB MAKATHON ' When the Persians ', says Herodotus, ' saw the Athenians running down on them, without horse or bowmen, and scanty in numbers, they thought them a set of madmen rushing upon certain destruction.' They began, however, to prepare to receive them, and the Eastern chiefs arrayed, as quickly as time and jjlace allowed, the varied races who served in their motley ranks. Mountaineers from Hyrcania and Afghanistan, wild horsemen from the steppes of Khorassan, the black archers of Ethiopia, swordsmen from the banks of the Indus, the Oxus, the Euphrates, and the Nile, made ready against the enemies of the Great King. 26 BATTLE OF MARATHON But no national cause inspired them, except the division of native Persians ; and in the large host there was no uniformity of language, creed, race, or military system. Still, among them there were many gallant men, under a veteran general ; they were familiarized with victory ; and in contemptuous confidence, their infantry, which alone had time to form, awaited the Athenian charge. On came the Greeks, with one unwavering line of levelled spears, against which the light targets, the short lances and scimitars of the Orientals offered weak defence. The front rank of the Asiatics must have gone down to a man at the first shock. Still they recoiled not, but strove by individual gallantry, and by the weight of numbers, to make up for the disadvantages of weapons and tactics, and to bear back the shallow line of the Europeans. In the centre, where the native Persians and the Sacae fought, they succeeded in breaking through the weaker part of the Athenian phalanx ; and the tribes led by Aristides and Themifetocles were, after a brave resistance, driven back over the plain, and chased by the Persians up the valley towards the imier country. There the nature of the ground gave the opportunity of rallying and renewing the struggle : and meanwhile, the Greek wings, where Miltiades had concentrated his chief strength, had routed the Asiatics opposed to them ; and the Athenian and Plataean officers, instead of pursuing the fugitives, kept their troops well in hand, and wheeling round they formed the two wings together. Miltiades instantly led them against the Persian centre, which had hitherto been triumphant, but which now fell back, and prepared to encounter these new and unex- pected assailants. Aristides and Themistocles renewed the fight with their reorganized troojis, and the full force of the Greeks was brought into close action with the Persian and Sacian divisions of the enemy. Datis's veterans strove hard to keep their ground, and evening ^ was approaching before the stern encounter was decided. But the Persians, with their slight wicker shields, destitute of body-armour, and never taught by training to keej^ the even front and act with the regular movement of ^ 'AAA' tl/^tws drruadfUoOa ^Iv Oeoii irpos kanipav. Aristoph. Vcspae, 1085. BATTLE OF MARATHON 27 the Greek infantry, fought at grievous disadvantage with their shorter and feebler weapons against the compact array of well-armed Athenian and Plataean spearmen, all perfectly drilled to perform each necessary evolution in concert, and to preserve a uniform and unwavering line in battle. In personal courage and in bodily activity, the Persians were not inferior to their adversaries. Their spirits were not yet cowed by the recollection of former defeats ; and they lavished their lives freely, rather than forfeit the fame which they had won by so many victories. While their rear ranks poured an incessant shower of arrows ^ over the heads of their comrades, the foremost Persians kept rushing forward, sometimes singly, sometimes in desperate groups of twelve or ten upon the projecting spears of the Greeks, striving to force a lane into the phalanx, and to bring their scimitars and daggers into play.^ But the Greeks felt their superiority, and though the fatigue of the long-continued action told heavily on their inferior numbers, the sight of the carnage that they dealt amongst their assailants nerved them to fight still more fiercely on. At last the previously unvanquished lords of Asia turned their backs and fled, and the Greeks followed, striking them down, to the water's edge,^ where the invaders were now hastily launching their galleys, and seeking to embark and fly. Flushed with success, the Athenians dashed at the * 'E/xaxofiead' aiiTOiai, 6up.est general, Demosthenes, one of the most distinguished officers whom the long Peloponnesian war had produced, and who, if he had originally held the Sicilian command, would soon have brought Sj'racuse to submission. The fame of Demosthenes the general has been dimmed by the superior lustre of his great countryman, Demosthenes the orator. When the name of Demosthenes is mentioned, it is the latter alone that is thought of. The soldier has found no biographer. Yet out of the long list of the great men of the Athenian republic there are few that deserve to stand higher than this brave, though finally unsuccessful, leader of her fleets and armies in the first half of the Pelopon- nesian war. In his first campaign in Aetolia he had shown some of the rashness of youth, and had received a lesson of caution, by which he profited throughout the rest of his career, but without losing any of his natural energy in enterprise or in execution. He had performed the eminent service of rescuing Naupactus from a jiowerful hostile arma- ment in the seventh year of the war ; he had then, at the request of the Acarnanian republics, taken on himself the office of commander-in-chief of all their forces, and at their head he had gained some important advantages over the enemies of Athens in western Greece. His most celebrated exploits had been the occupation of Pjdos on the Messenian coast, the successful defence of that place against the fleet and armies of Lacedaemon, and the subsequent capture of the Spartan forces on the isle of Sphacteria ; which was the severest blow dealt to Sparta throughout the war, and which had mainly caused her to humble herself to make the truce w'ith Athens. Demosthenes was as honourably unknow^n in the war of party politics at Athens as he was eminent in the war against the foreign enemy. We read of no intrigues of his on either the aristocratic or democratic side. He was neither in the interest of Nicias nor of Cleon. His private character was free from any of the stains which polluted that of Alcibiades. On all these points the silence of the comic dramatist is decisive evidence in his favour. He had also the moral courage, not always combined with physical, of seeking to do his duty to his country, irrespec- AT SYRACUSE 57 tively of any odium that he himself might incur, and unhampered by any petty jealousy of those who were associated with him in command. There are few men named in ancient history of whom posterity would gladly know more, or whom we sympathize with more deeply in the calamities that befell them, than Demosthenes, the son of Alcisthenes, who in the spring of the year 413 B.C. left Piraeus at the head of the second Athenian expedition against Sicily. His arrival Avas critically timed ; for Gylippus had encouraged the Syracusans to attack the Athenians under Nicias by sea as well as by land, and by an able stratagem of Ariston, one of the admirals of the Corinthian auxiliary squadron, the Syracusans and their confederates had in- flicted on the fleet of Nicias the first defeat that the Athenian navy had ever sustained from a numerically inferior foe. Gj^lippus was preparing to follow up his advantage by fresh attacks on the Athenians on both elements, when the arrival of Demosthenes completely changed the aspect of afl'uirs, and restored the superiority to the invaders. With seventy-three war-galleys in the highest state of efficiency, and brilliantly equipped, with a force of five thousand picked men of the regular infantry of Athens and her allies, and a still larger number of bow- men, javelin-men, and slingers on board, Demosthenes rowed round the great harbour with loud cheers and martial music, as if in defiance of the Syracusans and their confed- erates. His arrival had indeed changed their newly born hopes into the deepest consternation. The resources of Athens seemed inexhaustible, and resistance to her hope- less. They had been told that she was reduced to the last extremities, and that her territory was occupied by an enemy ; and yet, here they saw her, as if in prodigality of power, sending forth, to make foreign conquests, a second armament, not inferior to that with which Nicias had first landed on the Sicilian shores. With the intuitive decision of a great commander, Demosthenes at once saw that the possession of Epipolae was the key to the possession of Syracuse, and he resolved to make a prompt and vigorous attempt to recover that posi- tion while his force was unimpaired, and the consternation 58 DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS which its arrival had produced among the besieged re- mained unabated. The Syracusans and their allies had run out an outwork along Epipolae from the city walls, intersecting the fortified lines of circumvallation which Nicias had commenced, but from which he had been driven by Gylippus.^ Could Demosthenes succeed in storming this outwork, and in re-establishing the Athenian troops on the high ground, he might fairly hope to be able to resume the circumvallation of the city, and become the conqueror of Syracuse ; for, when once the besiegers' lines were com- pleted, the number of the troops with which Gylippus had garrisoned the place would only tend to exhaust the stores of provisions, and accelerate its downfall. An easily repelled attack was first made on the outw ork in the day-time, probably more with the view^ of blinding the besieged to the nature of the main operations, than with any expectation of succeeding in an open assault, with every disadvantage of the ground to contend against. But, when the darkness had set in, Demosthenes formed his men in columns, each soldier taking with him five days' pro- visions, and the engineers and workmen of the camp follow^- ing the troops with their tools, and all portable implements of fortification, so as at once to secure any advantage of ground that the army might gain. Thus equipped and prepared, he led his men along by the foot of the southern flank of Epipolae, in a direction towards the interior of the Island, till he came immediately below the narrow ridge that forms the extremity of the high ground looking west- ward. He then wheeled his vanguard to the right, sent them rapidly up the paths that wind along the face of the cliff, and succeeded in completely surprising the Syracusan outposts, and in placing his troops fairly on the extreme summit of the all-important Epipolae. Thence the Athe- nians marched eagerly down the slope towards the town, routing some Syracusan detachments that were quartered in their way, and vigorously assailing the unprotected part of the outwork. All at first favoured them. The outw^ork was abandoned by its garrison, and the Athenian engineers began to dismantle it. In vain Gylippus brought up fresh troops to check the assault : the Athenians broke and » See Plan at p. 41. AT SYRACUSE 59 drove them back, and continued to press hotly forward, in the full confidence of victory. But, amid the general con- sternation of the Syracusans and their confederates, one body of infantry stood firm. This was a brigade of their Boeotian allies, which was posted low down the slope of Epipolae, outside the city walls. Coolly and steadily the Boeotian infantry formed their line, and, undismayed by the current of flight around them, advanced against the advancing Athenians. This was the crisis of the battle. But the Athenian van was disorganized by its own previo\is successes ; and, yielding to the unexpected charge thus made on it by troops in perfect order, and of the most obstinate courage, it was driven back in confusion upon the other divisions of the army, that still continued to press forward. When once the tide was thus turned, the Syra- cusans passed rapidly from the extreme of panic to the extreme of vengeful daring, and with all their forces they now fiercely assailed the embarrassed and receding Athe- nians. In vain did the officers of the latter strive to re- form their line. Amid the din and the shouting of the fight, and the confusion inseparable upon a night engage- ment, especially one where many thousand combatants were pent and whirled together in a narrow and uneven area, the necessary manoeuvres were impracticable ; and though many companies still fought on desperately, wherever the moonlight showed them the semblance of a foe,^ they fought without concert or subordination ; and not unfrequently, amid the deadly chaos, Athenian troops assailed each other. Keeping their ranks close, the Syra- cusans and their allies pressed on against the disorganized masses of the besiegers ; and at length drove them, with heavy slaughter, over the cliffs, which, scarce an hour before, they had scaled full of hope, and apparently certain of success. This defeat was decisive of the event of the siege. The ^ 'Hv fxiv yap ae\T]vr] Xafinpa, iwpwv 5« o'inojs uWrjKovi ws (v aeXrjvri e'lKus rfji/ fj.(v 6\piv ToC awparos Trpoopav, ttjv hi yvuj