Chapter XXXI (3)

Another consequence of some moment arose out of this victory. The Athenians planted a body of four thousand of their citizens as klêruchs (lot-holders) or settlers upon the lands of the wealthy Chalkidian oligarchy called the Hippobotæ,—proprietors probably in the fertile plain of Lêlantum, between Chalkis and Eretria. This is a system which we shall find hereafter extensively followed out by the Athenians in the days of their power; partly with the view of providing for their poorer citizens,—partly to serve as garrison among a population either hostile or of doubtful fidelity. These Attic klêruchs (I can find no other name by which to speak of them) did not lose their birthright as Athenian citizens: they were not colonists in the Grecian sense, and they are known by a totally different name,—but they corresponded very nearly to the colonies formally planted out on the conquered lands by Rome. The increase of the poorer population was always more or less painfully felt in every Grecian city. For though the aggregate population never seems to have increased very fast, yet the multiplication of children in poor families caused the subdivision of the smaller lots of land, until at last they became insufficient for a maintenance; and the persons thus impoverished found it difficult to obtain subsistence in other ways, more especially as the labor for the richer classes was so much performed by imported slaves. Doubtless some families possessed of landed property became extinct; but this did not at all benefit the smaller and poorer proprietors; for the lands thus rendered vacant passed, not to them, but by inheritance, or bequest, or intermarriage, to other proprietors, for the most part in easy circumstances,—since one opulent family usually intermarried with another. I shall enter more fully at a future opportunity into this question,—the great and serious problem of population, as it affected the Greek communities generally, and as it was dealt with in theory by the powerful minds of Plato and Aristotle. At present it is sufficient to notice that the numerous klêruchies sent out by Athens, of which this to Eubœa was the first, arose in a great measure out of the multiplication of the poorer population, which her extended power was employed in providing for. Her subsequent proceedings with a view to the same object will not be always found so justifiable as this now before us, which grew naturally, according to the ideas of the time, out of her success against the Chalkidians.

The war between Athens, however, and Thebes with her Bœotian allies, still continued, to the great and repeated disadvantage of the latter, until at length the Thebans in despair sent to ask advice of the Delphian oracle, and were directed to “solicit aid from those nearest to them.”[300] “How (they replied) are we to obey? Our nearest neighbors, of Tanagra, Korôneia, and Thespiæ, are now, and have been from the beginning, lending us all the aid in their power.” An ingenious Theban, however, coming to the relief of his perplexed fellow-citizens, dived into the depths of legend and brought up a happy meaning. “Those nearest to us (he said) are the inhabitants of Ægina: for Thêbê (the eponym of Thebes) and Ægina (the eponym of that island) were both sisters, daughters of Asôpus: let us send to crave assistance from the Æginetans.” If his subtle interpretation (founded upon their descent from the same legendary progenitors) did not at once convince all who heard it, at least no one had any better to suggest; and envoys were at once sent to the Æginetans,—who, in reply to a petition founded on legendary claims, sent to the help of the Thebans a reinforcement of legendary, but venerated, auxiliaries,—the Æakid heroes. We are left to suppose that their effigies are here meant. It was in vain, however, that the glory and the supposed presence of the Æakids Telamôn and Pêleus were introduced into the Theban camp. Victory still continued on the side of Athens; and the discouraged Thebans again sent to Ægina, restoring the heroes,[301] and praying for aid of a character more human and positive. Their request was granted, and the Æginetans commenced war against Athens without even the decent preliminary of a herald and declaration.[302]

[300] Herodot. v, 80.

[301] In the expression of Herodotus, the Æakid heroes are
_really_ sent from Ægina, and _really_ sent back by the Thebans
(v, 80-81)—Οἱ δέ σφι αἰτέουσι ἐπικουρίην τοὺς Αἰακίδας συμπέμπειν
ἔφασαν, αὖτις οἱ Θηβαῖοι πέμψαντες, ~τοὺς μὲν Αἰακίδας σφι
ἀπεδίδοσαν, τῶν δὲ ἀνδρῶν ἐδέοντο~. Compare again v, 75; viii,
64; and Polyb. vii, 9, 2. θεῶν τῶν συστρατευομένων.

Justin gives a narrative of an analogous application from the
Epizephyrian Lokrians to Sparta (xx, 3): “Territi Locrenses
ad Spartanos decurrunt: auxilium supplices deprecantur: illi
longinquâ militiâ gravati, auxilium a Castore et Polluce petere
eos jubent. Neque legati responsum sociæ urbis spreverunt;
profectique in proximum templum, facto sacrificio, auxilium
deorum implorant. Litatis hostiis, _obtentoque, ut rebantur,
quod petebant—haud secus læti quam si deos ipsos secum avecturi
essent_—pulvinaria iis in navi componunt, faustisque profecti
ominibus, _solatia suis pro auxiliis_ deportant.” In comparing
the expressions of Herodotus with those of Justin, we see that
the former believes the direct literal presence and action of the
Æakid heroes (“the Thebans sent back the heroes, and asked for
men”), while the latter explains away the divine intervention
into a mere fancy and feeling on the part of those to whom it is
supposed to be accorded. This was the tone of those later authors
whom Justin followed: compare also Pausan. iii, 19, 2.

[302] Herodot. v, 81-82.

This remarkable embassy first brings us into acquaintance with the Dorians of Ægina,—oligarchical, wealthy, commercial, and powerful at sea, even in the earliest days; more analogous to Corinth than to any of the other cities called Dorian. The hostility which they now began without provocation against Athens,—repressed by Sparta at the critical moment of the battle of Marathon,—then again breaking out,—and hushed for a while by the common dangers of the Persian invasion under Xerxês, was appeased only with the conquest of the island about twenty years after that event, and with the expulsion and destruction of its inhabitants some years later. There had been indeed, according to Herodotus,[303] a feud of great antiquity between Athens and Ægina,—of which he gives the account in a singular narrative, blending together religion, politics, exposition of ancient customs, etc.; but at the time when the Thebans solicited aid from Ægina, the latter was at peace with Athens. The Æginetans employed their fleet, powerful for that day, in ravaging Phalêrum and the maritime demes of Attica; nor had the Athenians as yet any fleet to resist them.[304] It is probable that the desired effect was produced, of diverting a portion of the Athenian force from the war against Bœotia, and thus partially relieving Thebes. But the war of Athens against both of them continued for a considerable time, though we have no information respecting its details.

[303] Herodot. v, 83-88.

[304] Herodot. v, 81-89. μεγάλως Ἀθηναίους ἐσινέοντο.

Meanwhile the attention of Athens was called off from these combined enemies by a more menacing cloud, which threatened to burst upon her from the side of Sparta. Kleomenês and his countrymen, full of resentment at the late inglorious desertion of Eleusis, were yet more incensed by the discovery, which appears to have been then recently made, that the injunctions of the Delphian priestess for the expulsion of Hippias from Athens had been fraudulently procured.[305] Moreover, Kleomenês, when shut up in the acropolis of Athens with Isagoras, had found there various prophecies previously treasured up by the Peisistratids, many of which foreshadowed events highly disastrous to Sparta. And while the recent brilliant manifestations of courage, and repeated victories, on the part of Athens, seemed to indicate that such prophecies might perhaps be realized,—Sparta had to reproach herself, that, from the foolish and mischievous conduct of Kleomenês, she had undone the effect of her previous aid against the Peisistratids, and thus lost that return of gratitude which the Athenians would otherwise have testified. Under such impressions, the Spartan authorities took the remarkable step of sending for Hippias from his residence at Sigeium to Peloponnesus, and of summoning deputies from all their allies to meet him at Sparta.

[305] Herodot. v, 90.

The convocation thus summoned deserves notice as the commencement of a new era in Grecian politics. The previous expedition of Kleomenês against Attica presents to us the first known example of Spartan headship passing from theory into act: that expedition miscarried because the allies, though willing to follow, would not follow blindly, nor be made the instruments of executing purposes repugnant to their feelings. Sparta had now learned the necessity, in order to insure their hearty concurrence, of letting them know what she contemplated, so as to ascertain at least that she had no decided opposition to apprehend. Here, then, is the third stage in the spontaneous movement of Greece towards a systematic conjunction, however imperfect, of its many autonomous units. First we have Spartan headship suggested in theory, from a concourse of circumstances which attract to her the admiration of all Greece,—power, unrivalled training, undisturbed antiquity, etc.: next, the theory passes into act, yet rude and shapeless: lastly, the act becomes clothed with formalities, and preceded by discussion and determination. The first convocation of the allies at Sparta, for the purpose of having a common object submitted to their consideration, may well be regarded as an important event in Grecian political history. The proceedings at the convocation are no less important, as an indication of the way in which the Greeks of that day felt and acted, and must be borne in mind as a contrast with times hereafter to be described.

Hippias having been presented to the assembled allies, the Spartans expressed their sorrow for having dethroned him,—their resentment and alarm at the new-born insolence of Athens,[306] already tasted by her immediate neighbors, and menacing to every state represented in the convocation,—and their anxiety to restore Hippias, not less as a reparation for past wrong, than as a means, through his rule, of keeping Athens low and dependent. But the proposition, though emanating from Sparta, was listened to by the allies with one common sentiment of repugnance. They had no sympathy for Hippias,—no dislike, still less any fear, of Athens,—and a profound detestation of the character of a despot. The spirit which had animated the armed contingents at Eleusis now reappeared among the deputies at Sparta, and the Corinthians again took the initiative. Their deputy Sosiklês protested against the project in the fiercest and most indignant strain: no language can be stronger than that of the long harangue which Herodotus puts into his mouth, wherein the bitter recollections prevalent at Corinth respecting Kypselus and Periander are poured forth. “Surely, heaven and earth are about to change places,—the fish are coming to dwell on dry land, and mankind going to inhabit the sea,—when you, Spartans, propose to subvert the popular governments, and to set up in the cities that wicked and bloody thing called a Despot.[307] First try what it is, for yourselves at Sparta, and then force it upon others if you can: you have not tasted its calamities as we have, and you take very good care to keep it away from yourselves. We adjure you, by the common gods of Hellas,—plant not despots in her cities: if you persist in a scheme so wicked, know that the Corinthians will not second you.”

[306] Herodot. v, 90, 91.

[307] Herodot. v, 92. ... τυραννίδας ἐς τὰς πόλις κατάγειν
παρασκευάζεσθε, τοῦ οὔτε ἀδικώτερον ἐστὶ οὐδὲν κατ᾽ ἀνθρώπους
οὔτε μιαιφονώτερον.

This animated appeal was received with a shout of approbation and sympathy on the part of the allies. All with one accord united with Sosiklês in adjuring the Lacedæmonians[308] “not to revolutionize any Hellenic city.” No one listened to Hippias when he replied, warning the Corinthians that the time would come, when they, more than any one else, would dread and abhor the Athenian democracy, and wish the Peisistratidæ back again. He knew well, says Herodotus, that this would be, for he was better acquainted with the prophecies than any man. But no one then believed him, and he was forced to take his departure back to Sigeium: the Spartans not venturing to espouse his cause against the determined sentiment of the allies.[309]

[308] Herodot. v, 93. μὴ ποιέειν μηδὲν νεώτερον περὶ πόλιν Ἑλλάδα.

[309] Herodot. v, 93-94.

That determined sentiment deserves notice, because it marks the present period of the Hellenic mind: fifty years later it will be found materially altered. Aversion to single-headed rule, and bitter recollection of men like Kypselus and Periander, are now the chords which thrill in an assembly of Grecian deputies: the idea of a revolution, implying thereby a great and comprehensive change, of which the party using the word disapproves, consists in substituting a permanent One in place of those periodical magistrates and assemblies which were the common attribute of oligarchy and democracy: the antithesis between these last two is as yet in the background, nor does there prevail either fear of Athens or hatred of the Athenian democracy. But when we turn to the period immediately before the Peloponnesian war, we find the order of precedence between these two sentiments reversed. The anti-monarchical feeling has not perished, but has been overlaid by other and more recent political antipathies,—the antithesis between democracy and oligarchy having become, not indeed the only sentiment, but the uppermost sentiment, in the minds of Grecian politicians generally, and the soul of active party-movement. Moreover, a hatred of the most deadly character has grown up against Athens and her democracy, especially in the grandsons of those very Corinthians who now stand forward as her sympathizing friends. The remarkable change of feeling here mentioned is nowhere so strikingly exhibited as when we contrast the address of the Corinthian Sosiklês, just narrated, with the speech of the Corinthian envoys at Sparta, immediately antecedent to the Peloponnesian war, as given to us in Thucydidês.[310] It will hereafter be fully explained by the intermediate events, by the growth of Athenian power, and by the still more miraculous development of Athenian energy.

[310] Thucydid. i, 68-71, 120-124.

Such development, the fruit of the fresh-planted democracy as well as the seed for its sustentation and aggrandizement, continued progressive during the whole period just adverted to. But the first unexpected burst of it, under the Kleisthenean constitution, and after the expulsion of Hippias, is described by Herodotus in terms too emphatic to be omitted. After narrating the successive victories of the Athenians over both Bœotians and Chalkidians, that historian proceeds: “Thus did the Athenians grow in strength. And we may find proof, not merely in this instance but everywhere else, how valuable a thing freedom is: since even the Athenians, while under a despot, were not superior in war to any of their surrounding neighbors, but, so soon as they got rid of their despots, became by far the first of all. These things show that while kept down by one man, they were slack and timid, like men working for a master; but when they were liberated, every single man became eager in exertions for his own benefit.” The same comparison reappears a short time afterwards, where he tells us, that “the Athenians when free, felt themselves a match for Sparta; but while kept down by any man under a despotism, were feeble and apt for submission.”[311]

[311] Herodot. v, 78-91. Ἀθηναῖοι μέν νυν ηὔξηντο· δηλοῖ
δὲ οὐ κατ᾽ ἓν μόνον ἀλλὰ πανταχῇ, ἡ ἰσηγορίη ὡς ἔστι χρῆμα
σπουδαῖον, εἰ καὶ Ἀθηναῖοι τυραννευόμενοι μὲν, οὐδαμῶν τῶν
σφέας περιοικεόντων ἔσαν τὰ πολέμια ἀμείνους, ἀπαλλαχθέντες δὲ
τυράννων, μακρῷ πρῶτοι ἐγένοντο· δηλοῖ ὦν ταῦτα, ὅτι κατεχόμενοι
μὲν, ἐθελοκάκεον, ὡς δεσπότῃ ἐργαζόμενοι, ἐλευθερωθέντων δὲ,
αὐτὸς ἕκαστος ἑωϋτῷ προθυμέετο κατεργάζεσθαι.

(c. 91.) Οἱ Λακεδαιμόνιοι—νόῳ λαβόντες, ὡς ἐλεύθερον μὲν ἐὸν τὸ
γένος τὸ Ἀττικὸν, ἰσόῤῥοπον τῷ ἑωϋτῶν ἂν γένοιτο, κατεχόμενον δὲ
ὑπό του τυραννίδι, ἀσθενὲς καὶ πειθαρχέεσθαι ἐτοῖμον.

Stronger expressions cannot be found to depict the rapid improvement wrought in the Athenian people by their new democracy. Of course this did not arise merely from suspension of previous cruelties, or better laws, or better administration. These, indeed, were essential conditions, but the active transforming cause here was, the principle and system of which such amendments formed the detail: the grand and new idea of the sovereign People, composed of free and equal citizens,—or liberty and equality, to use words which so profoundly moved the French nation half a century ago. It was this comprehensive political idea which acted with electric effect upon the Athenians, creating within them a host of sentiments, motives, sympathies, and capacities, to which they had before been strangers. Democracy in Grecian antiquity possessed the privilege, not only of kindling an earnest and unanimous attachment to the constitution in the bosoms of the citizens, but also of creating an energy of public and private action, such as could never be obtained under an oligarchy, where the utmost that could be hoped for was a passive acquiescence and obedience. Mr. Burke has remarked that the mass of the people are generally very indifferent about theories of government; but such indifference—although improvements in the practical working of all governments tend to foster it—is hardly to be expected among any people who exhibit decided mental activity and spirit on other matters; and the reverse was unquestionably true, in the year 500 B. C., among the communities of ancient Greece. Theories of government were there anything but a dead letter: they were connected with emotions of the strongest as well as of the most opposite character. The theory of a permanent ruling One, for example, was universally odious: that of a ruling Few, though acquiesced in, was never positively attractive, unless either where it was associated with the maintenance of peculiar education and habits, as at Sparta, or where it presented itself as the only antithesis to democracy, the latter having by peculiar circumstances become an object of terror. But the theory of democracy was preëminently seductive; creating in the mass of the citizens an intense positive attachment, and disposing them to voluntary action and suffering on its behalf, such as no coercion on the part of other governments could extort. Herodotus,[312] in his comparison of the three sorts of government, puts in the front rank of the advantages of democracy, “its most splendid name and promise,”—its power of enlisting the hearts of the citizens in support of their constitution, and of providing for all a common bond of union and fraternity. This is what even democracy did not always do: but it was what no other government in Greece _could_ do: a reason alone sufficient to stamp it as the best government, and presenting the greatest chance of beneficent results, for a Grecian community. Among the Athenian citizens, certainly, it produced a strength and unanimity of positive political sentiment, such as has rarely been seen in the history of mankind, which excites our surprise and admiration the more when we compare it with the apathy which had preceded,—and which is even implied as the natural state of the public mind in Solon’s famous proclamation against neutrality in a sedition.[313] Because democracy happens to be unpalatable to most modern readers, they have been accustomed to look upon the sentiment here described only in its least honorable manifestations,—in the caricatures of Aristophanês, or in the empty common-places of rhetorical declaimers. But it is not in this way that the force, the earnestness, or the binding value, of democratical sentiment at Athens is to be measured. We must listen to it as it comes from the lips of Periklês,[314] while he is strenuously enforcing upon the people those active duties for which it both implanted the stimulus and supplied the courage; or from the oligarchical Nikias in the harbor of Syracuse, when he is endeavoring to revive the courage of his despairing troops for one last death-struggle, and when he appeals to their democratical patriotism as to the only flame yet alive and burning even in that moment of agony.[315] From the time of Kleisthenês downward, the creation of this new mighty impulse makes an entire revolution in the Athenian character. And if the change still stood out in so prominent a manner before the eyes of Herodotus, much more must it have been felt by the contemporaries among whom it occurred.

[312] Herodot. iii, 80. Πλῆθος δὲ ἄρχον, ~πρῶτα μὲν, οὔνομα
πάντων κάλλιστον ἔχει, ἰσονομίην~· δεύτερα δὲ, τούτων τῶν ὁ
μόναρχος, ποιέει οὐδέν· πάλῳ μὲν ἀρχὰς ἄρχει, ὑπεύθυνον δὲ ἀρχὴν
ἔχει, βουλεύματα δὲ πάντα ἐς τὸ κοινὸν ἀναφέρει.

The democratical speaker at Syracuse, Athenagoras, also puts this
name and promise in the first rank of advantages—(Thucyd. vi,
39)—ἐγὼ δέ φημι, ~πρῶτα μὲν~, δῆμον ξύμπαν ὠνόμασθαι, ὀλιγαρχίαν
δὲ, μέρος, etc.

[313] See the preceding chapter xi, of this History, vol. iii, p.
145, respecting the Solonian declaration here adverted to.

[314] See the two speeches of Periklês in Thucyd. ii, 35-46, and
ii, 60-64. Compare the reflections of Thucydidês upon the two
democracies of Athens and Syracuse, vi, 69 and vii, 21-55.

[315] Thucyd. vii, 69. Πατρίδος τε τῆς ἐλευθερωτάτης ὑπομιμνήσκων
καὶ τῆς ἐν αὐτῇ ἀνεπιτακτοῦ πᾶσιν ἐς τὴν δίαιταν ἐξουσίας, etc.

The attachment of an Athenian citizen to his democratical constitution comprised two distinct veins of sentiment: first, his rights, protection, and advantages derived from it,—next, his obligations of exertion and sacrifice towards it and with reference to it. Neither of these two veins of sentiment was ever wholly absent; but according as the one or the other was present at different times in varying proportions, the patriotism of the citizen was a very different feeling. That which Herodotus remarks is, the extraordinary efforts of heart and hand which the Athenians suddenly displayed,—the efficacy of the active sentiment throughout the bulk of the citizens; and we shall observe even more memorable evidences of the same phenomenon in tracing down the history from Kleisthenês to the end of the Peloponnesian war: we shall trace a series of events and motives eminently calculated to stimulate that self-imposed labor and discipline which the early democracy had first called forth. But when we advance farther down, from the restoration of the democracy after the Thirty Tyrants to the time of Demosthenês,—I venture upon this brief anticipation, in the conviction that one period of Grecian history can only be thoroughly understood by contrasting it with another,—we shall find a sensible change in Athenian patriotism. The active sentiment of obligation is comparatively inoperative,—the citizen, it is true, has a keen sense of the value of the democracy as protecting him and insuring to him valuable rights, and he is, moreover, willing to perform his ordinary sphere of legal duties towards it; but he looks upon it as a thing established, and capable of maintaining itself in a due measure of foreign ascendency, without any such personal efforts as those which his forefathers cheerfully imposed upon themselves. The orations of Demosthenês contain melancholy proofs of such altered tone of patriotism,—of that languor, paralysis, and waiting for others to act, which preceded the catastrophe of Chæroneia, notwithstanding an unabated attachment to the democracy as a source of protection and good government.[316] That same preternatural activity which the allies of Sparta, at the beginning of the Peloponnesian war, both denounced and admired in the Athenians, is noted by the orator as now belonging to their enemy Philip.

[316] Compare the remarkable speech of the Corinthian envoys
at Sparta (Thucyd. i, 68-71), with the φιλοπραγμοσύνη which
Demosthenês so emphatically notices in Philip (Olynthiac. i, 6,
p. 13): also Philippic. i, 2, and the Philippics and Olynthiacs
generally.

Such variations in the scale of national energy pervade history, modern as well as ancient, but in regard to Grecian history, especially, they can never be overlooked. For a certain measure, not only of positive political attachment, but also of active self-devotion, military readiness, and personal effort, was the indispensable condition of maintaining Hellenic autonomy, either in Athens or elsewhere; and became so more than ever when the Macedonians were once organized under an enterprising and semi-Hellenized prince. The democracy was the first creative cause of that astonishing personal and many-sided energy which marked the Athenian character, for a century downward from Kleisthenês. That the same ultra-Hellenic activity did not longer continue, is referable to other causes, which will be hereafter in part explained. No system of government, even supposing it to be very much better and more faultless than the Athenian democracy, can ever pretend to accomplish its legitimate end apart from the personal character of the people, or to supersede the necessity of individual virtue and vigor. During the half-century immediately preceding the battle of Chæroneia, the Athenians had lost that remarkable energy which distinguished them during the first century of their democracy, and had fallen much more nearly to a level with the other Greeks, in common with whom they were obliged to yield to the pressure of a foreign enemy. I here briefly notice their last period of languor, in contrast with the first burst of democratical fervor under Kleisthenês, now opening,—a feeling which will be found, as we proceed, to continue for a longer period than could have been reasonably anticipated, but which was too high-strung to become a perpetual and inherent attribute of any community.