Mosaics of Grecian History Part 29

While fighting was in progress at Thermopylae, a Greek fleet, under the command of the Spartan Eurybi'ades, that had been sent to guard the Euboean Sea, encountered the Persian ships at Artemis'ium. In several engagements that occurred, the Athenian vessels, commanded by Themistocles, were especially distinguished; and although the contests with the enemy were not decisive, yet, says PLUTARCH, "they were of great advantage to the Greeks, who learned by experience that neither the number of ships, nor the beauty and splendor of their ornaments, nor the vaunting shouts and songs of the Persians, were anything dreadful to men who know how to fight hand-to-hand, and are determined to behave gallantly.

These things they were taught to despise when they came to close action and grappled with the foe. Hence in this respect, and for this reason, Pindar's sentiments appear just, when he says of the fight at Artemisium,

"'Twas then that Athens the foundation laid Of Liberty's fair structure.'"

Although the Greeks were virtually the victors in these engagements, at least one-half of their vessels were disabled; and, hearing of the defeat of Leonidas at Thermopylae, they resolved to retreat.

Having sailed through the Euboean Sea, the fleet kept on its way until it reached the Island of Salamis, in the Saron'ic Gulf.

Here Themistocles learned that no friendly force was guarding the frontier of Attica, although the Peloponnesian states had promised to send an army into Boeotia; and he saw that there was nothing to prevent the Persians from marching on Athens. He therefore advised the Athenians to abandon the city to the mercy of the Persians, and commit their safety and their hopes of victory to the navy. The advice was adopted, though not without a hard struggle; and those of the inhabitants who were able to bear arms retired to the Island of Salamis, while the old and infirm, the women and children, found shelter in a city of Argolis.

THE BATTLE OF SALAMIS.

Xerxes pursued his march through Greece unopposed except by Thespiae and Plataea, which towns he reduced, and spread desolation over Attica until he arrived at the foot of the Cecropian hill, which he found guarded by a handful of desperate citizens who refused to surrender. But the brave defenders were soon put to the sword, and Athens was plundered and then burned to the ground.

About this time the Persian fleet arrived in the Bay of Phale'rum, and Xerxes immediately dispatched it to block up that of the Greeks in the narrow strait of Salamis. Eurybiades, the Spartan, who still commanded the Grecian fleet, was urged by Themistocles, and also by Aristides, who had been recalled from exile, to hazard an engagement at once in the narrow strait, where the superior numbers of the Persians would be of little avail. The Peloponnesian commanders, however, wished to move the fleet to the Isthmus of Corinth, where it would have the aid of the land forces. At last the counsel of Themistocles prevailed, and the Greeks made the attack. The engagement was a courageous and persistent one on both sides, but the Greeks came off victorious. Xerxes had caused a royal throne to be erected on one of the neighboring heights, where, surrounded by his army, he might witness the naval conflict in which he was so confident of victory. But he had the misfortune to see his magnificent navy almost utterly annihilated. Among the slain was the brother of Xerxes, who commanded the navy, and many other Persians of the highest rank.

A king sate on the rocky brow Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis; And ships, by thousands, lay below, And men in nations--all were his!

He counted them at break of day-- And when the sun set, where were they?

--BYRON.

Anxious now for his own personal safety, the Persian monarch's whole care centered on securing his retreat by land. He pa.s.sed rapidly into Thessaly, and, after a march of forty-five days, reached the sh.o.r.es of the h.e.l.lespont to find his bridges washed away.

But how returned he? Say; this soul of fire, This proud barbarian, whose impatient ire Chastised the winds that disobeyed his nod With stripes ne'er suffered by the aeolian G.o.d-- But how returned he? say; his navy lost, In a small bark he fled the hostile coast, And, urged by terror, drove his laboring prore Through floating carca.s.ses and fields of gore.

So Xerxes sped; so sped the conquering race: They catch at glory, and they clasp disgrace.

--JUVENAL, Satire X. Trans. by GIFFORD.

The ignominious retreat of Xerxes was in marked contrast to the pomp and magnificence of his advance into Greece. Death from famine and distress spread its ravages among his troops, and the remnant that returned with him to Asia was but "a wreck, or fragment, rather than a part of his huge host."

O'er h.e.l.lespont and Athos' marble head, More than a G.o.d he came, less than a man he fled.

--LUIGI ALAMANNI. Trans. by AUBREY DE VERE.

A Celebrated Description of the Battle.

Among the Athenians who n.o.bly fought at Marathon, and who also took part in the battle of Salamis, was the tragedian aeschylus; and so much did he distinguish himself in the capacity of soldier, that, in the picture which the Athenians caused to be painted representing the former battle, the figure of aeschylus held so prominent a place as to be at once recognized, even by a casual observer. Eight years after the latter battle aeschylus composed his tragedy of The Persians, which portrays, in vivid colors, the defeat of Xerxes, and gives a fuller, and, indeed, better account of that memorable sea-fight than is found even in the pages of Herodotus.

Says MITFORD, "It is matter of regret, not indeed that aeschylus was a poet; but that prose-writing was yet in his age so little common that his poetical sketch of this great transaction is the most authoritative, the clearest, and the most consistent of any that has pa.s.sed to posterity." In the famous tragedy of aeschylus the account of the destruction of the Persian fleet is supposed to be given by a Persian messenger, escaped from the fight, to Atos'sa, the mother of Xerxes. The scene is laid at Susa, the Persian capital, near the tomb of Darius. The whole drama may be considered as a proud triumphal song in favor of Liberty.

Atossa, appearing with her attendants, and anxious for news of her son, first inquires in what clime are the towers of Athens-- the conquest of which her son had willed--and what mighty armies, what arms, and what treasures the Athenians boast, and what mighty monarch rules over them; and is told, to her surprise, that instead of the strong bow, like the Persians, they have stout spears and ma.s.sy bucklers; and although their rich earth is a copious fount of silver, yet the people, "slaves to no lord, own no kingly power." Then enters the messenger, who exclaims:

Woe to the towns of Asia's peopled realms!

Woe to the land of Persia, once the port Of boundless wealth! All, at a blow, has perished!

Ah me! How sad his task who brings ill tidings!

But, to my tale of woe--I needs must tell it.

Persians--the whole barbaric host has fallen!

At this astounding news the chorus breaks out in, concert:

Oh horror, horror, what a train of ills!

Alas! Is h.e.l.las then unscathed? And has Our arrowy tempest spent its force in vain?

Raise the funereal cry--with dismal notes Wailing the wretched Persians. Oh, how ill They planned their measures! All their army perished!

Then the messenger exclaims:

I speak not from report; but these mine eyes Beheld the ruin which my tongue would utter.

In heaps the unhappy dead lie on the strand Of Salamis, and all the neighboring sh.o.r.es.

Oh, Salamis--how hateful is thy name!

Oh, how my heart groans but to think of Athens!

Atossa at length finds words to say:

Astonished with these ills, my voice thus long Hath wanted utterance: griefs like these exceed The power of speech or question: yet e'en such, Inflicted by the G.o.ds, must mortal man, Constrained by loud necessity endure.

But tell me all: without distraction, tell me All this calamity, though many a groan Burst from thy laboring heart. Who is not fallen?

What leader must we wail? What sceptred chief, Dying, hath left his troops without a lord?

The messenger tells her that Xerxes himself lives, and still beholds the light, and then gives her a general summary of the disasters that befell the Persians, the names of the chiefs that were slain, the numbers of the hors.e.m.e.n, and the spearmen, and the seamen that lay "slaughtered on the rocks," "buried in the waters," or "mouldering on the dreary sh.o.r.e." At the request of Atossa he then proceeds to give the following more detailed account, which, as we have said, is the best history that we have of this memorable naval conflict:

Our evil genius, lady, or some G.o.d Hostile to Persia, led to every ill.

Forth from the troops of Athens came a Greek, And thus addressed thy son, the imperial Xerxes: "Soon as the shades of night descend, the Grecians Shall quit their station: rushing to their oars, They mean to separate, and in secret flight Seek safety." At these words the royal chief, Little dreaming of the wiles of Greece, And G.o.ds averse, to all the naval leaders Gave his high charge: "Soon as yon sun shall cease To dart his radiant beams, and dark'ning night Ascends the temple of the sky, arrange In three divisions your well-ordered ships, And guard each pa.s.s, each outlet of the seas: Others enring around this rocky isle Of Salamis. Should Greece escape her fate, And work her way by secret flight, your heads Shall answer the neglect." This harsh command He gave, exulting in his mind, nor knew What Fate designed. With martial discipline And prompt obedience, s.n.a.t.c.hing a repast, Each manner fixed well his ready oar.

Soon as the golden sun was set, and night Advanced, each, trained to ply the dashing oar, a.s.sumed his seat; in arms each warrior stood, Troop cheering troop through all the ships of war.

Each to the appointed station steers his course, And through the night his naval force each chief Fix'd to secure the pa.s.ses. Night advanced, But not by secret flight did Greece attempt To escape. The morn, all beauteous to behold, Drawn by white steeds, bounds o'er the enlighten'd earth:

At once from every Greek, with glad acclaim, Burst forth the song of war, whose lofty notes The echo of the island rocks returned, Spreading dismay through Persia's host, thus fallen From their high hopes; no flight this solemn strain Portended, but deliberate valor bent On daring battle; while the trumpet's sound Kindled the flames of war. But when their oars (The paean ended) with impetuous force Dash'd the surrounding surges, instant all Rush'd on in view; in orderly array The squadron of the right first led, behind Rode their whole fleet; and now distinct was heard From every part this voice of exhortation:

"Advance, ye sons of Greece, from thraldom save Your country--save your wives, your children save, The temples of your G.o.ds, the sacred tomb Where rest your honor'd ancestors; this day The common cause of all demands your valor."

Meantime from Persia's hosts the deep'ning shout Answer'd their shout; no time for cold delay; But ship 'gainst ship its brazen beak impell'd.

First to the charge a Grecian galley rush'd; Ill the Phoenician bore the rough attack-- Its sculptured prow all shatter'd. Each advanced, Daring an opposite. The deep array Of Persia at the first sustain'd the encounter; But their throng'd numbers, in the narrow seas Confined, want room for action; and deprived Of mutual aid, beaks clash with beaks, and each Breaks all the other's oars: with skill disposed, The Grecian navy circled them around In fierce a.s.sault; and, rushing from its height, The inverted vessel sinks.

The sea no more Wears its accustomed aspect, with foul wrecks And blood disfigured; floating carca.s.ses Roll on the rocky sh.o.r.es; the poor remains Of the barbaric armament to flight Ply every oar inglorious: onward rush The Greeks amid the ruins of the fleet, As through a shoal of fish caught in the net, Spreading destruction; the wide ocean o'er Wailings are heard, and loud laments, till night, With darkness on her brow, brought grateful truce.

Should I recount each circ.u.mstance of woe, Ten times on my unfinished tale the sun Would set; for be a.s.sured that not one day Could close the ruin of so vast a host.

After some farther account, by the messenger, of the magnitude of the ruin that had overwhelmed the Persian host, the mother of Xerxes thus apostrophizes and laments that "invidious fortune"

which had pulled down this ruin on her son's devoted head:

Invidious fortune, how thy baleful power Hath sunk the hopes of Persia! Bitter fruit My son hath tasted from his purposed vengeance On Athens, famed for arms; the fatal field Of Marathon, red with barbaric blood, Sufficed not: that defeat he thought to avenge, And pulled this hideous ruin on his head!

Ah me! what sorrows for our ruined host Oppress my soul! Ye visions of the night, Haunting my dreams, how plainly did you show These ills! You set them in too fair a light.

In the Epode, or closing portion of the tragedy, the following "Lament" may be considered as expressing the feelings with which the Persians bewailed this defeat, with reference to its effects upon Persian authority over the Asiatic nations:

With sacred awe The Persian law No more shall Asia's realm revere: To their lord's hand, At his command, No more the exacted tribute bear.

Who now falls prostrate at the monarch's throne?

His regal greatness is no more.

Now no restraint the wanton tongue shall own, Free from the golden curb of power; For on the rocks, washed by the beating flood, His awe-commanding n.o.bles lie in blood.

--POTTER'S trans.

Among the modern poems on Xerxes and the battle of Salamis, is one by the Scotch poet and translator, JOHN STUART BLACKIE, from which we take the following extracts:

Seest thou where, sublimely seated on a silver-footed throne, With a high tiara crested, belted with a jewelled zone, Sits the king of kings, and, looking from the rocky mountain-side, Scans, with masted armies studded far, the fair Saronic tide?

Looks he not with high hope beaming? looks he not with pride elate?