History of the Peloponnesian War

For when the Athenians had come to this country, for the subjugation of Sicily in the first place, and then, if they succeeded, for that of the Peloponnese also, and the rest of Greece; and when they possessed the largest empire enjoyed hitherto, either by Greeks of former times or of the present, you were the first men in the world who withstood their navy, with which they had borne down every thing, and have already conquered them in some sea-fights, and will now, in all probability, conquer them in this.

For when men have been put down in that in which they claim to excel, their opinion of themselves in future is far lower than if they had never entertained such an idea at first; and failing through the disappointment of their boasting, they give way even beyond the degree of their power. And such, probably, is now the feeling of the Athenians.

"But in our case, both the opinion we entertained before, and with which, even while we were yet unskilful, we were full of daring, has now been confirmed; and from the addition to it of the thought that we must be the best seamen in the world, since we have conquered the best, each man's hope is doubled. And, generally speaking, it is the greatest hope that supplies also the greatest spirit for undertakings.

Again, those points in which they are imitating our equipments are familiar to our habits, and we shall not be awkward at each of them: whereas, on their side, when many soldiers are on their decks contrary to their custom, and many dart-men, mere land-lubbers, (so to speak,) Acarnanians and others, have gone on board their ships, who will not so much as know how to discharge their weapons while stationary, how can they avoid swaying the ships, and falling all into confusion amongst themselves, by not moving according to their own fashion?

For neither will they derive any benefit from the superior number of their ships, (if any of you be afraid of this, I mean the idea of his not going to fight them with an equal number;) for many ships in a small space will be less effective for executing any of the movements they may wish, while they are most liable to he injured by our preparations. On the contrary, be assured of this, which is most true, according to the certain information which we believe we have received.

It is through the excess of their miseries, and from being forced to it by their present distress, that they are induced to make a desperate effort; not so much from confidence in their resources, as from hazarding a chance, in whatever way they can, that they may either force their passage and sail out, or afterwards retreat by land; since, at any rate, they could not fare worse than at present.

To avail yourselves then of such confusion, and of the very fortune of our bitterest enemies, which has betrayed itself, let us close with them in wrath, and consider that the feeling of those men is most lawful, with regard to their enemies, who determine, when taking vengeance on their aggressor, to glut the animosity of their heart: and that we too shall have an opportunity of avenging ourselves on our foes—the very thing which is every where said to be most sweet.

For that they are our foes, and our bitterest foes, you all know; inasmuch as they came against our country to enslave it, and if they had succeeded, would have imposed on our men all that was most painful; on our children and wives, all that is most dishonourable; and on our whole country, the title which is most degrading.

Wherefore no one ought to relent, or deem it gain that they should merely go away without danger to us. For that they will do just the same, even if they gain the victory. But that, through our succeeding (as we probably shall do) in our wishes, these men should be punished, and should leave a more secure liberty for the whole of Sicily, which even before enjoyed that blessing; this is a glorious object to contend for. And of all hazards those are most rare, which, while they cause least harm by failure, confer most advantage by success.

The Syracusan commanders and Gylippus having in their turn thus exhorted their men, immediately manned the ships on their side also, since they saw that the Athenians were doing it.

Nicias, on the other hand, being dismayed at the present circumstances of himself and his colleagues, and seeing how great and how close at hand now their peril was, since they were all but on the point of putting out; considering, too, (as men usually feel in great emergencies,) that in deed every thing fell short of what they would have it, while in word enough had not yet been said by them; again called to him each one of the Trierarchs, addressing them severally by their father's name, their own, and that of their tribe; begging each one who enjoyed any previous distinction, from personal considerations not to sacrifice it, nor to obscure those hereditary virtues for which his forefathers were illustrious; reminding them too of their country—the most free one in the world—and the power, subject to no man's dictation, which all enjoyed in it with regard to their mode of life; mentioning other things also, such as men would say at a time now so critical, not guarding against being thought by any one to bring forward old and hackneyed topics, and such as are advanced in all cases alike, about men's wives and children and country's gods, but loudly appealing to them, because they think they may be of service in the present consternation.

Thus he, thinking that he had addressed to them an exhortation which was not so much a satisfactory one, as one that he was compelled to be content with, went away from them, and led the troops down to the beach, and ranged them over as large a space as he could, that the greatest possible assistance might be given to those on board towards keeping up their spirits.

Demosthenes, Menander, and Euthydemus, who went on board the Athenian fleet to take the command, put out from their own station, and immediately sailed to the bar at the mouth of the harbour, and the passage through it which had been closed up, wishing to force their way to the outside.

The Syracusans and their allies, having previously put out with pretty nearly the same number of ships as before, proceeded to keep guard with part of them at the passage out, and also round the circumference of the whole harbour, that they might fall upon the Athenians on all sides at once, while their troops also at the same time came to their aid at whatever part their vessels might put in to shore. The commanders of the Syracusan fleet were Sicanus and Agatharchus, each occupying a wing of the whole force, with Pythen and the Corinthians in the centre.

When the Athenians came up to the bar, in the first rush with which they charged they got the better of the ships posted at it, and endeavoured to break the fastenings. Afterwards, when the Syracusans and their allies bore down upon them from all quarters, the engagement was going on no longer at the bar alone, but over the harbour also; and an obstinate one it was, such as none of the previous ones had been. For great eagerness for the attack was exhibited by the seamen on both sides, when the command was given;

and there was much counter-manoeuvring on the part of the masters, and rivalry with each other; while the soldiers on board exerted themselves, when vessel came in collision with vessel, that the operations on deck might not fall short of the skill shown by others. Indeed every one, whatever the duty assigned him, made every effort that he might himself in each case appear the best man.

And as a great number of ships were engaged in a small compass, (for indeed they were the largest fleets fighting in the narrowest space that had ever been known, since both of them together fell little short of two hundred,) the attacks made with the beaks were few, as there were no means of backing water, or cutting through the enemy's line; but chance collisions were more frequent, just as one ship might happen to run into another, either in flying from or attacking a second.

So long as a vessel was coming up to the charge, those on her decks plied their javelins, arrows, and stones in abundance against her; but when they came to close quarters, the heavy-armed marines, fighting hand to hand, endeavoured to board each others ships.

In many cases too it happened, through want of room, that on one side they were charging an enemy, and on the other were being charged themselves, and that two ships, and sometimes even more, were by compulsion eutangled round one. And thus the masters had to guard against some, and to concert measures against others—not one thing at a time, but many things on every side—while the great din from such a number of ships coming into collision both spread dismay and prevented their hearing what the boatswains said.

For many were the orders given and the shouts raised by those officers on each side, both in the discharge of their duty, and from their present eagerness for the battle: while they cried out to the Athenians, to force the passage, and now, if ever they meant to do it hereafter, to exert themselves heartily for a safe return to their country; and to the Syracusans and their allies, that it would be a glorious achievement for them to prevent the enemy's escape, and by gaining the victory to confer honour on their respective countries.

The commanders, moreover, on each side, if they saw any captain in any part unnecessarily rowing astern, called out on him by name and asked him, on the side of the Athenians, whether they were retreating because they considered the land, which was in the possession of their bitterest enemies, as more their own than the sea, which had been won with no small trouble? on that of the Syracusans, whether they were themselves flying from the flying Athenians, whom they knew for certain to be anxious to escape from them in any way whatever?

The troops on shore too, on both sides, when the sea-fight was so equally balanced, suffered a great agony and conflict of feelings; those of the country being ambitious now of still greater honour, while their invaders were afraid of faring even worse than at present.

For, since the Athenians' all was staked on their fleet, their fear for the future was like none they had ever felt before; and from the unequal nature of the engagement they were also compelled to have an unequal view of it from the beach.

For as the spectacle was near at hand, and as they did not all look at the same part at once, if any saw their own men victorious in any quarter, they would be encouraged, and turn to calling on the gods not to deprive them of safety; while those who looked on the part that was being beaten, uttered lamentations at the same time as cries, and from the sight they had of what was going on, expressed their feelings more than those engaged in the action. Others, again, looking on a doubtful point of the engagement, in consequence of the indecisive continuance of the conflict, in their excessive fear made gestures with their very bodies, corresponding with their thoughts, and continued in the most distressing state, for they were constantly within a little of escaping, or of being destroyed.

And thus amongst the troops of the Athenians, as long as they ware fighting at sea on equal terms, every sound might be heard at once, wailing, shouting, they conquer, they are conquered, and all the other various exclamations which a great armament in great peril would be constrained to utter—

very much in the same way as their men on board their ships were affected—until at length, after the battle had continued for a long time, the Syracusans and their allies routed the Athenians, and pressing on them in a decisive manner, with much shouting and cheering of each other on, pursued them to the shore.

Then the sea forces, as many as were not taken afloat, put in to the land at different parts, and rushed from on board to the camp; while the army, no longer with any different feelings, but all on one impulse, lamenting and groaning, deplored the event, and proceeded, some to succour the ships, others to guard what remained of their wall; while others, and those the greatest part, began now to think of themselves, and how they should best provide for their own preservation.

Indeed their dismay at the moment had been exceeded by none of all they had ever felt. And they now experienced pretty nearly what they had themselves inflicted at Pylus: for by the Lacedaemonians' losing their ships, their men who had crossed over into the island were lost to them besides: and at this time for the Athenians to escape by land was hopeless, unless something beyond all expectation should occur.

After the battle had been thus obstinately disputed, and many ships and men destroyed on both sides, the Syracusans and allies, having gained the victory, took up their wrecks and dead, and then sailed away to the city, and erected a trophy.

The Athenians, from the extent of their present misery, did not so much as think about their dead or their wrecks, or of asking permission to take them up, but wished to retreat immediately during the night.

Demosthenes, however, went to Nicias, and expressed it as his opinion, that they should still man their remaining ships, and force their passage; out, if they could, in the morning; alleging that they still had left more ships fit for service than the enemy; for the Athenians had about sixty remaining, while their adversaries had less than fifty.

But when Nicias agreed with this opinion, and they wished to man them, the seamen would not embark, through being dismayed at their defeat, and thinking that they could not now gain a victory. And so they all now made up their minds to retreat by land.

But Hermocrates the Syracusan, suspecting their purpose, and thinking that it would be a dreadful thing, if so large a force, after retreating by land and settling any where in Sicily, should choose again to carry on the war with them, went to the authorities, and explained to them that they ought not to suffer them to retreat during the night, (stating what he himself thought,) but that all the Syracusans and allies should at once go out, and block up the roads, and keep guard beforehand at the narrow passes.

But though the magistrates also agreed with him in thinking this, no less than himself, and were of opinion that it ought to be done, yet they thought that the people, in their recent joy and relaxation after the labours of a great sea-fight, especially, too, as it was a time of feasting, (for they happened to celebrate on this day a sacrifice to Hercules,) would not easily be induced to listen to them; as the majority, from excessive gladness at their victory, had fallen to drinking during the festival, and would, they expected, rather obey them in any thing than in taking arms, just at present, and marching out.

When, on consideration of this, it appeared a difficulty to the magistrates, and Hermocrates could not then prevail upon them to attempt it, he afterwards devised the following scheme. Being afraid that the Athenians might get the start of them by quietly passing during the night the most difficult points of the country, he sent certain of his own friends with some cavalry to the Athenian camp, as soon as it grew dark. These, riding up to within hearing, and calling to them certain individuals, as though they were friends of the Athenians, (for there were some who sent tidings to Nicias of what passed within the city,) desired them to tell that general not to lead off his army by night, as the Syracusans were guarding the roads; but to retire leisurely by day after making his preparations.

They then, after delivering this message, returned; while those who heard it, reported the same to the Athenian generals.

They, in accordance with the information, stopped for the night, considering it to be no false statement. And since they had not, as it was, set out immediately, they determined to remain over the next day also, that the soldiers might pack up, as well as they could, the most useful articles; and though they left every thing else behind, to take with them, when they started, just what was necessary for their personal support.

But the Syracusans and Gylippus had marched out before with their troops, and were blocking up the roads through the country where it was likely the Athenians would advance, as well as guarding the passages of the streams and rivers, and posting themselves for the reception of the army, in order to stop it where they thought best; while with their ships they sailed to those of the Athenians, and towed them off from the beach. Some few indeed the Athenians themselves had burnt, as they had intended; but the rest they lashed to their own at their leisure, as each had been thrown up on any part of the beach, and, without any one trying to stop them, conveyed them to the city.

After this, when Nicias and Demosthenes thought they were sufficiently prepared, the removal of the army took place, on the third day after the sea-fight.

It was a wretched scene then, not on account of the single circumstance alone, that they were retreating after having lost all their ships, and while both themselves and their country were in danger, instead of being in high hope; but also because, on leaving their camp, every one had grievous things both to behold with his eyes and to feel in his heart.

For as the dead lay unburied, and any one saw a friend on the ground, he was struck at once with grief and fear. And the living who were being left behind, wounded or sick, were to the living a much more sorrowful spectacle than the dead, and more piteous than those who had perished.

For having recourse to entreaties and wailings, they reduced them to utter perplexity, begging to be taken away, and appealing to each individual friend or relative that any of them might any where see; ZZZ hanging on their comrades, as they were now going away; or following as far as they could, and when in any case the strength of their body failed, not being left behind without many appeals to heaven and many lamentations. So that the whole army, being filled with tears and distress of this kind, did not easily get away, although from an enemy's country, and although they had both suffered already miseries too great for tears to express, and were still afraid for the future, lest they might suffer more.

There was also amongst them much dejection and depreciation of their own strength. For they resembled nothing but a city starved out and attempting to escape; and no small one too, for of their whole multitude there were not less than forty thousand on the march. Of these, all the rest took whatever each one could that was useful, and the heavy-armed and cavalry themselves, contrary to custom, carried their own food under their arms, some for want of servants, others through distrusting them; for they had for a long time been deserting, and did so in greatest numbers at that moment. And even what they carried was not sufficient; for there was no longer any food in the camp.

Nor, again, was their other misery, and their equal participation in sufferings, (though it affords some alleviation to endure with others,) considered even on that account easy to bear at the present time; especially, when they reflected from what splendour and boasting at first they had been reduced to such an abject termination. For this was the greatest reverse that ever befell a Grecian army;

since, in contrast to their having come to enslave others, they had to depart in fear of undergoing that themselves; and instead of prayers and hymns, with which they sailed from home, they had to start on their return with omens the very contrary of these; going by land, instead of by sea, and relying on a military rather than a naval force. But nevertheless, in consequence of the greatness of the danger still impending, all these things seemed endurable to them.

Nicias, seeing the army dejected, and greatly changed, passed along the ranks, and encouraged and cheered them, as well as existing circumstances allowed; speaking still louder than before, as he severally came opposite to them, in the earnestness of his feeling, and from wishing to be of service to them by making himself audible to as many as possible.

Still, even in our present circumstances, Athenians and allies, must we cherish hope; for some men have, ere now, been preserved even from more dreadful circumstances than these. Nor should you think too meanly of yourselves, or yield too much to your misfortunes and present sufferings, which are beyond your desert.

For my own part, though I am not superior to any of you in strength, (for you see what a state I am in through disease,) and though I consider myself to be second to none, whether in my private life or in other respects, yet now I am exposed to every danger, like the very meanest. And yet I have lived with much devotion, as regards the gods, and much justice and freedom from reproach, as regards men. And therefore my hope is still strong for the future;

and my calamities do not terrify me, so much as they might. Nay, they may perhaps be alleviated; for our enemies have enjoyed enough good fortune; and if we displeased any of the gods by making this expedition, we have already been sufficiently punished for it. Others also, we know, have ere now marched against their neighbours;

and after acting as men do, have suffered what they could endure. And so in our case it is reasonable now to hope that we shall find the wrath of the gods mitigated; for we are now deserving of pity at their hands, rather than of envy. Looking, too, on your own ranks, what experienced and numerous men of arms there are with you, advancing in battle-array together, do not be too much dismayed, but consider that you are yourselves at once a city, wherever you may settle; and that there is no other in Sicily that would either easily resist your attack, or expel you when settled any where. With regard to the march, that it may be safe and orderly, look to that yourselves;