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Stories From Thucydides by H. L. Havell

H >> H. L. Havell >> Stories From Thucydides

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To keep a large flotilla in such a position, even in a calm sea, where
no hostile movement was made against them, would have been a task to
try the skill of the most accomplished mariners. But the Peloponnesian
crews were untrained, the decks of their ships were crowded with
soldiers, and they were hampered by the crowd of smaller craft. Worst
of all, they were threatened in every direction by the agile Athenian
galleys, which, moving in single file, swept round and round them,
approaching closer and closer at every circuit, so that they were
penned together in an ever-narrowing space, and in danger of fouling
one another. To complete their confusion, the morning breeze began to
blow from the gulf; and Phormio, who had been waiting for this, now
gave the signal for attack. The Peloponnesians hardly attempted any
defence; for the unskilful crews of the galleys could not manage their
oars in the rising sea, and the steersmen had consequently no control
of their vessels. All their efforts were employed in keeping clear of
one another, warding off a collision with long poles, amid a hubbub of
curses and abuse. Into this huddled, swaying mass of war-galleys and
merchant-craft mingled together now dashed the Athenian triremes,
wrecking every vessel which they met. A wild panic ensued among the
Peloponnesian crews, and as fast as they could extricate themselves
they rowed off and sought shelter in the harbour of Patrae. From here
they afterwards sailed to Cyllene, the dockyard of Elis, where they
were joined by Cnemus with the troops from Acarnania. Twelve ships
fell into the hands of the Athenians, and taking these with them they
sailed first to Rhium, a level headland on the Locrian Coast, on which
stood a temple of Poseidon. Having left one of the captured ships as a
thank-offering to the god of the sea, they made their way back to the
original station at Naupactus.


II

The authorities at Sparta were highly indignant at the failure of
their expedition in Acarnania, and the defeat of the Peloponnesian
fleet by so inferior a force. For this was their first experience of a
sea-fight since the outbreak of the war, and they made no allowance
for the want of skill in their own crews, attributing the disaster to
mere cowardice. They did not reflect how vast was the difference
between raw sailors, lately transferred from the plough to the oar,
and the veteran seamen of Athens, trained under a system which had
been slowly perfected in the course of half a century. So they sent
three commissioners to Cnemus, with peremptory orders to prepare for
another sea-fight, and not allow himself to be shut up in harbour by
the feeble squadron of Phormio. One of these commissioners was
Brasidas, a brilliant young officer, who had gained distinction two
years before by saving the harbour-town of Methone, on the coast of
Messenia, from being captured by the Athenians. We shall hear much
more of him in the sequel.

On the arrival of Brasidas and his colleagues, the ships lying at
Cyllene were made ready for immediate service, and orders were sent
round to the allied cities for other ships. Phormio also sent an
urgent despatch to Athens announcing his victory, and asking for
reinforcements; and the Athenians sent twenty triremes to his aid.
These vessels, however, arrived too late, for the admiral, acting on
instructions from Athens, sailed first to Crete, where he was delayed
a long time by contrary winds. Phormio, with his twenty triremes, was
therefore compelled to engage the whole Peloponnesian fleet, numbering
seventy-seven ships, which had now sailed round from Cyllene, and
taken up its station just within the strait, close to the Achaean town
of Panormus. A strong force of Peloponnesian soldiers was encamped on
the shore, to co-operate with the fleet. Phormio anchored his ships
just outside the strait, being resolved, if it were in any way
possible, not to fight the Peloponnesians in the narrow waters. As the
Peloponnesians, on their side, were equally determined not to be lured
out into the open sea, the two fleets remained confronting each other
for a whole week, without attempting any aggressive movement. At last
the Peloponnesian leaders decided to give battle with Phormio at once,
fearing that if they delayed any longer he would be reinforced from
Athens.

It was the universal custom of Greek commanders to wind up the courage
of their men on the eve of a battle by a short and pithy address,
calculated to inspire them with confidence, by giving them a
reasonable hope of victory. Such a practice, strange as it may seem to
us, was natural among a people whose armies and fleets were recruited
from the general body of the citizens, accustomed to free speech in
their public assemblies. They were not men of war by profession,
trained in habits of blind obedience, but sensitive Greeks, who
carried into the camp the noble freedom of civic life, and were not
prepared to shed their blood without sufficient cause, and a fair
prospect of success.

Seldom was there greater need of this sort of military eloquence than
on the present occasion. On both sides there was much discouragement,
and a general reluctance to begin the fight. The Peloponnesians were
cowed by their recent defeat, and dreaded the naval skill of the
Athenians, which seemed to them almost supernatural; and Phormio's men
shrank from an encounter with such enormous odds. Accordingly the
Peloponnesian captains on one side, and Phormio on the other, did what
they could to argue their crews into a more hopeful frame of mind. The
Peloponnesian seamen who had taken part in the first battle were
reminded that they had been caught unprepared, and assured that this
time every precaution would be taken to prevent a second reverse. They
were flattered by the confident assertion that the superior skill of
the Athenians was far outweighed by their own superior courage.
"Look," said one of the admirals, speaking to his own division, "at
this powerful armament, outnumbering the enemy by four to one--look at
the army drawn up on the shore, ready to lend aid to any who are hard
pressed--and you will see that with such advantages defeat is
impossible. Do your duty like men, and expect to be rewarded or
punished according to your deserts." Similar addresses, combining
encouragement with threats, were heard in the other parts of the
fleet.

Among the Athenian sailors there had been much jesting about the land-
lubbers of Peloponnesus, and in the first flush of their victory they
had been ready to face any odds on the sea. But now, seeing themselves
confronted by such overwhelming numbers, they had lost heart for the
moment, and were seen standing about in little groups, shaking their
heads and whispering fearfully together. It was an anxious moment for
Phormio; he knew the immense importance of maintaining, at any cost,
the naval reputation of Athens, and if his men went into battle in
their present temper, they were certain to suffer a crushing defeat.
Determining, therefore, if possible, to allay the panic which was fast
spreading throughout the fleet, he summoned the crews into his
presence, and harangued them as follows:--

"Comrades, I have called you hither to assure you that you have no
cause for alarm. The numbers of the enemy, which seem to you so
formidable, should, if properly considered, be a ground of confidence;
for this unwieldy armament is a sign that they are thoroughly
terrified, and seek safety in a huge crowd of ships. The firmness and
discipline which they have acquired by long experience of land warfare
will avail them little on the sea For courage is largely a matter of
habit, and the bravest landsman is a mere coward when he is taken away
from his own element, and set down on the heaving deck of a war-galley
where he can hardly keep his feet. The disorganized multitude with
which we shall have to deal is a mere mob, held together by the
authority of Sparta, demoralized by their late defeat, and forced to
fight against their will. Face them boldly, and our very audacity in
assailing such numbers will sink them still deeper into helpless
terror, for they will think that we must be invincible, or we should
never run such risks. It shall be my business to bring on the
engagement in blue water, where we shall have them at our mercy. Now
every man to his station; be prompt, and be silent, and attend to the
word of command. Remember your old spirit, and reflect that the honour
of Athens is in your hands to-day."

The great object of the Peloponnesian leaders was to compel Phormio to
give battle in the confined space of the strait. With this intention
they determined to make a sudden movement towards the northern coast
of the gulf, threatening an attack on Naupactus. At daybreak they drew
up their ships in four lines, with the coast of Peloponnesus behind
them, and with twenty fast-sailing triremes stationed on the right
wing, to cut off Phormio's fleet, if, as they anticipated, he advanced
to the defence of Naupactus. Wheeling then to the right, the ships
sailed some distance, four abreast, towards the inner gulf; and when
they came opposite to Naupactus, they changed their course, and moved
in column, with the right wing leading towards the northern shore.

The manoeuvre, so far as concerned its immediate purpose, was
completely successful. Phormio, much against his will, was obliged to
leave his station outside the strait, and go to the aid of Naupactus,
which had been left undefended. Great was the delight of the
Peloponnesian captains when they saw the little Athenian squadron
creeping close, in single file, along the northern side of the gulf,
for they thought that not one of the twenty would escape them. At a
given signal, the whole fleet formed into line, resuming its original
order, four deep, and bore down upon the Athenians. Eleven of
Phormio's triremes succeeded in clearing the strait, and getting into
the open waters in the direction of Naupactus; but the remaining nine
were overtaken and driven aground, and their crews, except those who
escaped by swimming, were put to the sword. Some of these vessels were
towed off as prizes by the Peloponnesians, and one they captured with
all her crew. The rest were saved by the valour of the Messenian
soldiers, who had followed the movements of Phormio's vessels along
the shore, and now did good service by boarding the stranded triremes,
and hauling them to land, after a sharp tussle with the enemy.

Meanwhile the eleven ships which had eluded the attack were hotly
pursued by the twenty fast-sailing vessels on the Peloponnesian right
wing. All but one got through in safety, and took refuge in the
harbour of Naupactus, and drawing up in line, with their prows
outwards, prepared to defend themselves if the enemy advanced further
against them. But the rearmost vessel was hard pressed by a Leucadian
ship, and the rest of the pursuers followed at a considerable
distance, singing the paean [Footnote: A song of victory.] as they
rowed, and expecting an easy victory. Now, however, occurred one of
those sudden turns of fortune so frequent in the course of a sea-
fight. The Athenian trireme which had been left far behind in the
chase, made a sudden sweep round a merchant-vessel anchored at the
mouth of the harbour, struck her pursuer amidships, and sank her.

This splendid feat of seamanship filled the Peloponnesians, who were
advancing in disorder, with amazement and terror. On every trireme the
cry of "Hold her!" [Footnote: This was done by thrusting the oars, with
the blades held flat, deep into the water] was heard, and some of the
vessels, losing way suddenly, ran aground on the shallows. The others
hung back, waiting until the main body of the fleet should come to
their support. Seeing them drifting thus, stupefied and helpless, the
Athenians took heart again, and raising a shout rowed swiftly from
their station within the harbour, and charged down upon them. The
Peloponnesians, after a feeble attempt at resistance, took to flight,
heading for their original station on the opposite coast. Six of their
vessels were captured, and the Athenians, not content with this, fell
upon the main body of the fleet, and recovered their own ships which
had been taken in the strait. The victorious crews of Phormio then
returned to Naupactus, and set up a trophy at the place where they had
been moored when this splendid rally was made, opposite to the temple
of Apollo. The Peloponnesians also raised a trophy, to commemorate
their first success, and then, fearing the arrival of the fresh ships
from Athens, they sailed off to Lechaeum, the northern harbour of
Corinth.


III

In strange contrast with the disgraceful exhibition of cowardice and
incompetence which we have just witnessed, we have now to record a
daring attempt, undertaken shortly afterwards, to strike at the very
heart of the Athenian power. While the beaten crews of the
Peloponnesian fleet were waiting to be paid off at Lechaeum, they
suddenly received orders to take their oars and rowing-cushions, and
proceed to Nisaea, the port of Megara. The plan was to embark them on
forty vessels, which were lying in the dockyards, and make a night-
attack on Peiraeus. The suggestion came from the Megarians, but in
carrying it out the Peloponnesians were probably influenced by the
bold and enterprising spirit of Brasidas. And in fact, the meditated
descent on Peiraeus was neither so wild nor so rash as it may at first
sight appear. For the Athenians, never dreaming that they might be
taken by surprise, had not taken the precaution to close the entrance
of their harbour, or to station guard-ships for its defence.

Without delay, the officers in charge of the expedition mustered their
crews at Nisaea, and embarking by night, got their ships under way.
But at the last moment their hearts failed them, and instead of
sailing to Peiraeus, they landed on the island of Salamis, and after
attacking a sea-side fort, and capturing three triremes which were
riding at anchor near it, they spread themselves out, and began
ravaging and plundering the country.

Meanwhile fire-signals had been raised, conveying the alarm to
Peiraeus and Athens. A wild panic ensued, and a rumour ran through the
upper city that the enemy had sailed into Peiraeus, while in the
harbour-town it was generally supposed that Salamis was lost, and
Peiraeus on the point of being invaded. The Peloponnesians employed in
this adventure afterwards pretended that they had been hindered by
contrary winds from carrying out their original design. But this was a
mere excuse, and if they had chosen they might have sailed unopposed
to Peiraeus, and inflicted terrible injury on Athens. But it was now
too late, for the Athenians, as soon as the news was brought, had
marched down with their whole military force to Peiraeus, and occupied
every assailable point in the harbour, while at the same time every
ship in the docks was launched and manned, and sent off in headlong
haste to Salamis.

By this time it was broad daylight, and the Peloponnesians, being
warned that a rescue was on the way from Peiraeus, made off with their
booty, and getting, on board their ships, sailed back to Nisaea. They
had the more reason for hastening their departure, as the Megarian
ships which had carried them to Salamis, having lain a long while in
dry-dock, were leaky and unseaworthy; for the harbour of Megara had
for some time past been kept in close blockade by the Athenians.

This memorable incident, following close on the brilliant victories of
Phormio, taught the Athenians to take better precautions for the
future. Hitherto they would have scoffed at the suggestion that their
own arsenals and dockyards were exposed to attack. But now they
provided for the safety of Peiraeus by closing the harbours and
keeping a vigilant watch. And that terrible night left an impression
on their minds which was not soon forgotten.




THE REVOLT OF LESBOS

I

We have already traced the steps by which the various cities
composing the Confederacy of Delos gradually became subjects and
tributaries of Athens. After this great change was effected, the only
members of the original league who retained their independence were
the wealthy and powerful communities of Chios and Lesbos. These two
islands were allowed to retain undisturbed control of their own
affairs, with the sole obligation of sending a fixed quota of ships to
serve in the Athenian Navy. It does not appear that the performance of
this duty was felt as a grievance, and no act of oppression had been
committed by Athens, such as might have provoked her allies in Lesbos
or Chios to turn against her. In both islands the general body of the
citizens were on the whole friendly to the Athenians, who afforded
them an effectual means of protection against the tyranny of the
nobles, by summoning high-born offenders to be tried before the
Athenian tribunals. [Footnote: The evidence for this statement will be
found in Thucydides, viii. 48.] It was therefore not among the people
at large, but among the privileged few, that any movement of revolt
against Athens was to be expected.

Some years before the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War the Lesbian
malcontents had solicited the Spartans to help them in throwing off
the yoke of Athens. This application, which was probably made at the
time of the revolt of Samos, found no favour with Sparta, and nothing
further was attempted on that occasion. But in the fourth year of the
war alarming rumours were brought to Athens from Tenedos, a small
island included in the Athenian alliance, whose inhabitants were
jealous of the threatened ascendancy of Lesbos in the eastern
districts of the Aegaean. There was a design, it was said, among the
leading citizens of Mytilene, the principal city of Lesbos, to unite
the inhabitants of the island by force under their rule, and renounce
their allegiance to Athens. Help was expected from Sparta, and the
Boeotians, who were of the same race as the Lesbians, were also in the
plot. This statement was confirmed by envoys from Methymna, the second
city of Lesbos, which stood apart from the conspiracy, and by certain
citizens of Mytilene, who had turned informers from motives of private
revenge.

Among the Athenians at this time there was a general feeling of
despondency and exhaustion. The full hardship of the war pressed
heavily upon them, and their population was thinned by the ravages of
the plague. In such a mood the thought of undertaking a campaign
against a great island like Lesbos, then at the height of her power,
filled them with dismay. Was it possible that a favoured and
privileged ally had taken up arms against them in the hour of their
distress? It was a slander, they could not, they would not believe it.
At any rate, before proceeding to extremities, they would try the
effect of a friendly remonstrance. So they sent envoys with a pacific
message to the Mytilenaeans, hoping by fair words to deter them from
their purpose. In this, however, they were disappointed, and being at
last convinced that the Lesbians were on the brink of revolt, they
sent off forty triremes without delay, in order, if possible, to catch
them unawares. For they had been informed that the Mytilenaeans were
about to celebrate the festival of Apollo, in which the whole
population took part, outside the city walls; and if the triremes
arrived in time, there would be a fine opportunity for a surprise. At
the same time they took possession of ten Mytilenaean triremes, which
had been sent to serve in the Athenian fleet, and imprisoned the
crews.

But now was seen one of the weaknesses inherent in the nature of the
Athenian constitution. These measures could not be taken without
public debate in the popular assembly, and such a method of procedure
rendered secrecy impossible. The Mytilenaeans received timely warning
of their danger, and keeping close within their walls, repaired the
weak places in their defences, and set a careful watch. Shortly
afterwards the Athenian fleet hove in sight. As the Mytilenaeans
refused to obey the summons delivered to them in the name of the
imperial people,--that they should raze their walls, and surrender
their ships,--hostilities commenced. But on neither side was much
vigour displayed, for the Athenian officers thought themselves too
weak to undertake any decisive operations with their present force,
and the Mytilenaeans desired to obtain a respite, to enable them to
obtain aid from Sparta. Accordingly they asked for an armistice,
pretending that they wished to plead their cause by their own
representatives before the Athenian assembly; and their request being
granted, they sent envoys to Athens, who made a show of carrying on
negotiations. And in the meantime a trireme was despatched in all
haste to carry their petition to Sparta.

On the return of the Mytilenaean envoys from Athens, where of course
they had accomplished nothing, the siege of Mytilene began in earnest.
The city was situated on a promontory facing the Asiatic coast on the
south-eastern side of the island, and had two harbours, on its
northern and southern side. Both of these harbours were now held in
close blockade by the Athenians, who established two camps, one on
either side of the town, and patrolled the harbour-mouths with their
ships. But on the land side the investment was not yet completed, so
that supplies could still be brought into the town from the island.
Reinforcements, however, came pouring into the Athenian quarters in
answer to a summons sent to the cities of the Athenian alliance, who
were the more willing to lend help, as the Lesbians made no vigorous
effort in their own defence.

While the prospects of Athens were thus brightening, the Mytilenaean
envoys, after a stormy voyage, arrived at Sparta, and laid their
petition before the authorities. It happened that the Olympic festival
was close at hand, where representatives would be present from all the
cities of the Peloponnesian league; so the envoys received orders to
go to Olympia, and state their case in the presence of the Spartan
allies. They went, therefore, to Olympia, and when the festival was
over, the Mytilenaean orator addressed the confederates as follows:--

"Before we urge our claim for assistance we wish to combat a prejudice
which we know to be general in Greece against those who desert their
allies in time of war. For we wish not only to obtain your countenance
and support, but also to preserve your respect. To abandon an ally
without just cause in a time of peril is justly regarded as an act of
treason. But then the alliance must be a fair and equal relation
voluntarily assumed on both sides, based on mutual esteem and parity
of power. Can anyone assert that our connexion with Athens answers to
this description? Have we not seen how the confederacy of maritime
cities formed against Persia was gradually converted into an Athenian
empire? And though we and the Chians enjoyed nominal independence, we
had good reason to fear that this was only a temporary concession,
which would be withdrawn as soon as the Athenians felt themselves
strong enough to attack us. We were allowed to retain our liberty,
partly because they feared our navy, and partly because they wished to
make us accomplices in their own aggressions, and lend an appearance
of equity to the acts of violence in which we were compelled to take
part. Having swallowed up the smaller states, they were ready to
pounce upon us, and were only prevented by the outbreak of the present
war. Who, then, can blame us, if we seized the opportunity when they
were weakened to repudiate this false alliance, and anticipate the
blow which they were preparing for us? Athens, we repeat, has no just
title to our allegiance; the bond which held us together was fear on
our side and interest on theirs. We are natural enemies; and when your
foe is disabled, then is the time to strike.

"Having thus cleared ourselves from the imputation of disloyalty, we
will now make plain to you the advantages which you will gain by
espousing our cause. If you wish to inflict irreparable injury on
Athens, you must promote every hostile movement against her in those
regions which contain the sources of her power, that is to say, the
islands and coast-lands of the Aegaean. For if our revolt is
successful, others will follow our example, and the Athenians will be
stripped of their revenues, the mainstay of their empire. You can lend
us aid most effectually by summoning your allies for a second
[Footnote: Attica had already been invaded earlier in the summer.]
invasion of Attica, and thus preventing the Athenians from sending
reinforcements to Lesbos. You have a rare opportunity, for their city
is wasted by the plague, and their navies are dispersed on foreign
service. Remember, then, your proud position as champions of Greek
liberty, and put away the reproach which you have sometimes incurred
by leaving the revolted subjects of Athens to fight their battles
alone. [Footnote: As in the case of Samos.] For the cause of Lesbos is
the cause of all Greece."

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Scottish book of the year goes to Kieron Smith, Boy by James Kelman

The barrister Constance Briscoe has won the libel case brought against her by her mother, Carmen Briscoe-Mitchell, over her bestselling misery memoir Ugly, in which she accused Briscoe-Mitchell of childhood cruelty and neglect.

Briscoe-Mitchell claimed the allegations were "a piece of fiction", and sued Briscoe and her publishers Hodder & Stoughton for libel.

A 10-day hearing at the high court in London concluded earlier today with a unanimous verdict from the jury after more than a day's deliberation. Speaking outside the court, Briscoe, a part-time judge, said she was "very happy" with the verdict.

"It is sad that my mother still feels the need to pursue me. Now I just want to get on with my career," she said. "I can quite understand why my family went into collective denial, but whilst child abuse may be committed behind closed doors, it should never be swept under the carpet."

The hearing saw Briscoe tell Mr Justice Tugendhat and a jury how her mother beat her with a stick for wetting the bed, called her a "dirty little whore" and drove her to attempt suicide by drinking bleach.

Briscoe's account of her upbringing was published in 2006 and has sold more than 400,000 copies in the UK.

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Would you have your ashes scattered in Jane Austen's garden?
American film producer to publish version of the Bible in which God says it is better to be gay than straight

The royal family doesn't need a poet

The power of Jane Austen never ceases to amaze: the myriad film and TV adaptations, the biopics, the spin-off self-help books, the novels about Austen book clubs and Austen obsessives and even, next spring, the publication of a book about "how Jane Austen conquered the world" (Jane's Fame, by Clare Harman). And now comes the just-too-weird story that deceased fans of Jane Austen have been banned from having their ashes scattered in her garden. In a letter to the Jane Austen Society, Louise West, the collections manager of Jane Austen's House Museum, wrote: "While we understand many admirers of Jane Austen would love to have ashes laid here, it is something we do not allow. It is distressing for visitors to see mounds of human ash, particularly so for our gardener. Also, it is of no benefit to the garden!" (Or is it? Surely a small quantity of fresh ashes judiciously placed beneath a hydrangea bush is just the ticket?)

Anyway, leaving aside the Gardeners' Question Time minutiae, what on earth is going on here? I like an Austen novel as much as the next person – I probably reread my way through the complete works every couple of years – but I am baffled as to why one would want to be laid to rest among the flowerbeds of Chawton. The only explanation is the currently unstoppable power of the Austen cult, fuelled by Colin Firth in a wet blouse, by Andrew Davies's adaptations, and by Hollywood. I'm all for enjoying books, but the cult of Austen has reached ridiculous proportions. In a post-feminist world that should know better, she seems to be adored as the comforting provider of romantic, happy-endings nonsense instead of the sharp and acerbic social satirist she deserves to be seen as.

(Does anyone actually believe her, by the way, when she foretells a happy marriage for Darcey and Elizabeth? I fear a woman as interesting as Elizabeth would be sorely disappointed with this standard-issue British Repressed Public-school Man - hopeless emotionally, and probably hopeless in bed.)

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