Chapter VII

Just at the time when the Syracusans were brought to the brink of despair, Gylippus, after so many months' delay, was on his voyage to Sicily. While lying at Leucas, a Corinthian settlement in the Ionian sea, he received the alarming intelligence that Syracuse was already completely blockaded, and the report was confirmed by every vessel that came in from the west. Deceived by these false rumours, he gave up all hope of saving Sicily, but hoping still to forestall the Athenians in Italy, he put out from Leucas with four ships, and steered a straight course for Tarentum. From this city, which was friendly to Sparta and Syracuse, he started on his mission among the Italian Greeks, and putting in at Locri he heard for the first time that the Athenian wall was still unfinished on the northern side of Epipolae, leaving a wide gap, through which a relieving force might enter the town.

Two courses now lay open to Gylippus. He might sail southwards, and make an attempt to run the blockade of Syracuse--or he might land on the northern coast of Sicily, march across the island, and fight his way into the city through the unwalled interval. In either case, the enterprise seemed desperate enough. By a very moderate exertion on the part of Nicias, employing only a fraction of the immense force at his disposal, Gylippus might have been destroyed, before he had time to become dangerous. But Nicias was lulled into a fatal confidence. He had heard of the mission of Gylippus, but made no attempt to oppose his voyage to Italy, regarding him as a mere free-booter, unworthy of serious notice. At last, learning that Gylippus was at Locri, he was induced to send out four triremes against him. They were instructed to take station at Rhegium, and cut off the daring intruder as he passed through the strait. But when they reached Rhegium, the wary Spartan was already beyond their reach. He had decided to approach Syracuse by land, and was now far advanced on his voyage to Himera, the only Greek settlement on the north coast of Sicily. Himera, though an Ionic colony, was attached to the Dorian interest, and her citizens gave a hearty welcome to the Spartan deliverer. Before long, a little army of about three thousand men was assembled at Himera, and ready to follow the fortunes of Gylippus. Seven hundred of these were the sailors and marines from his own vessels, armed as hoplites, and the Himeraeans furnished a thousand infantry, light and heavy-armed, and a hundred cavalry. Owing to the recent death of a powerful chieftain, who had been a strong partisan of Athens, the northern Sicels had now changed sides, and they sent a thousand men to serve under the Spartan leader. Small contingents also arrived, in answer to the call of Gylippus, from Gela and Selinus. With this little force, composed of such motley elements, Gylippus started from Himera, and entered on his march for the relief of Syracuse. The fate of Syracuse was already wavering in the balance. As yet no news of approaching succour had reached the beleaguered city, and the Syracusans had abandoned all hope. To save themselves from a worse calamity, they resolved to surrender, and an assembly was summoned to settle the terms of capitulation. But at this very moment a message came to them by sea, which kindled their courage afresh, and banished these counsels of despair. When Gylippus left Leucas, a Corinthian fleet of some fifteen vessels was preparing to sail from that port for Syracuse. One of the ships, commanded by a certain Gongylus, was delayed in the harbour, and started after the rest. But Gongylus, instead of steering the ordinary course, which would have taken him first to Italy, made a bold dash, straight across the sea, and just when the momentous decision was pending, his ship came to anchor in the Little Harbour. Forthwith the joyful tidings spread like wildfire through the city: Gylippus was coming, armed with full authority from Sparta--Corinth had taken up their cause--Syracuse was saved! All thought of surrender was instantly flung away, and news arriving shortly afterwards that Gylippus was near at hand, the whole Syracusan force marched out to meet him, and escorted him triumphantly into the town.

Thus, without a blow being struck, an immense access of strength had been brought to the besieged, and the grand condition of successful resistance, on which Alcibiades had laid such weight, was fulfilled. A Spartan officer of consummate ability was now in Syracuse, and he had made his way into the city, not alone, not by stealth, but at the head of an army, and before the very eyes of the enemy. Weeks must have elapsed between the departure of Gylippus from Leucas, and his arrival at Syracuse; and during all this time, with one trifling exception, Nicias made no effort to oppose his progress. Prudent men might well have regarded the enterprise of Gylippus as a wild and desperate adventure; and such it must have proved, but for the astounding blindness and apathy of Nicias.

At the time when Gylippus reached Syracuse the Athenian lines of circumvallation were all but completed on the side of the Great Harbour; but a wide interval was still left between the Circle and the northern sea, and it was here that Gylippus had effected an entrance. To keep this space open was a matter of supreme importance, and the scene of action is now shifted again to the northern slope of Epipolae. On the day after his arrival Gylippus succeeded in capturing the Athenian fort at Labdalum, and the command of this position gave increased facilities for the construction of a third counterwall, which was forthwith taken in hand, and carried in the direction of Labdalum, until it crossed the blockading line at its northern end.

If the Syracusans succeeded in completing and holding this counterwork, the blockade of Syracuse would be rendered impossible. Yet for some time Nicias made no attempt to interrupt its progress. As if already convinced of his inferiority in the field, he took steps to keep his communications open by sea, and with this object he employed a part of his forces in fortifying the headland of Plemmyrium, which commanded the entrance to the Great Harbour. Here he built three forts which served as an arsenal for the Athenian stores; and henceforth Plemmyrium became the chief station for his fleet. This removal had a disastrous effect on the Athenian crews; for the place being almost a desert, and the springs distant and scanty, they were compelled to go far from their quarters in search of forage and water, and while thus engaged they were cut off in great numbers by the Syracusan horse, who had been posted at Polichne for this purpose. A rapid demoralization of the crews was the consequence, and desertions became more frequent every day.

Meanwhile the counterwall was advancing steadily up the hill, and every day Gylippus drew up his army, to cover the operations of the workmen. At last he determined to force on an engagement, and in the first encounter the Syracusans, fighting in a confined space, which prevented their cavalry from coming into action, suffered a defeat. In no wise discouraged by this reverse, on the next day they took up a position in the more open ground, and offered battle again. By this time the Syracusan counterwork had almost passed the end of the Athenian wall, and if it were carried a few yards further, the siege of Syracuse would be brought to a standstill. Roused by the imminence of the crisis, Nicias determined to make one more effort to regain his mastery in the field, and led his troops to the attack. The main body of the hoplites were soon hotly engaged on both sides, and in the midst of the action Gylippus directed his cavalry and light-armed infantry to make a sudden charge on the Athenian left. This movement was executed with so much skill and resolution that the Athenians in that part of the line gave way, and drew after them the rest of their comrades, who broke their ranks, and fled for shelter behind the siege works.

The Syracusans lost no time in turning their victory to account. On the very same night their wall was extended some distance beyond the blockading line, and until this new barrier was overthrown, the investment of Syracuse had now become impossible.

Whichever way he looked, Nicias saw himself menaced with failure and defeat. He had sent twenty ships to intercept the Corinthian squadron on its voyage from Leucas; but the little fleet of rescue succeeded in avoiding the snare, and made its way into the port of Syracuse, thus adding twelve fresh vessels to the defending force. Gylippus himself was marching unhindered up and down the island, passing from city to city, and raising reinforcements of ships and men; and a second embassy had been despatched by the Syracusans, to carry the news of their victory to Corinth and Sparta, and ask for further help. Another ominous sign of coming events was the bustle and activity now visible in the dockyards of Syracuse and the waters of the Little Harbour; for the Syracusans had turned their attention seriously to their fleet, and thought of nothing less than attacking the Athenians on their own element.

These symptoms of renewed confidence and energy were observed by Nicias with growing disquiet. And if he turned his eyes to his own camp, he saw little to relieve his anxiety. For the predictions of Lamachus had been fulfilled to the letter. By his fatal policy of procrastination Nicias had frittered away the resources of the most splendid armament that ever set sail from Peiraeus. His soldiers were infected by the despondency of their leader, and many of them were stricken by the marsh-fever which haunts the unwholesome district of the Anapus. Above all the condition of the fleet showed the lamentable effect of long inaction and delay. All the supplies of the Athenians came to them by sea, and in order to keep their communications open, it was necessary to keep the whole of the fleet on constant duty. In consequence of this, the hulls of the triremes had become sodden with water, which made them leaky, and difficult to row. Moreover the crews, which were largely composed of foreign seamen, had grown restive and mutinous under the severe strain of hardships and privation, so different from the easy and lucrative service in the hope of which they had enlisted. Some took the first opportunity of deserting to the enemy, while others ran away to remote parts of Sicily; and there was no means of filling the places thus left vacant.

Such was the burden of care and apprehension which lay heavy on the feeble shoulders of the Athenian general. He was naturally a weak man, haunted by superstitious terrors, irresolute, easily cast down; and this infirmity of character was aggravated by a painful and incurable disease. There was no longer any question of laying siege to Syracuse: he himself was now besieged, and it was all he could do to maintain his position within his defences, and keep the sea open for the conveyance of supplies. In this desperate situation he determined to send a written despatch to Athens. We are led to suppose that this was an unusual proceeding, and that news from the seat of war was generally sent by word of mouth. The document is given at full length, with all its grievous confessions of incompetence and failure. After setting forth the facts of the case as stated above, Nicias insists that one of two things must be done: either the army now lying before Syracuse must be recalled to Athens, or the Athenians must send out a second army, equal in strength to the first, and a general to relieve him of his command.

At the conclusion of his despatch Nicias peevishly complains of the exacting temper of the Athenians, and their readiness to blame anyone but themselves if anything untoward occurred. Whatever may be the truth of the general charge, it was most ill-timed and ungrateful in his own case. Towards him, at least, the conduct of his fellow-citizens was marked by an excess of generosity, amounting to actual infatuation. Nothing is more remarkable than the unshaken confidence of the Athenians in their feeble general, after hearing this terrible indictment, drawn up by his own hand. They refused to accept his resignation, and passed a decree that large reinforcements should be sent to Sicily, with Demosthenes and Eurymedon as generals; and in the meantime they appointed Menander and Euthydemus, two officers already serving before Syracuse, to share with Nicias the burden of command. Before the winter was ended Eurymedon started with ten ships for Sicily, to announce that effectual help was coming; while Demosthenes was charged with the duty of enlisting troops and organizing a fleet.

Meanwhile new perils were gathering round the Athenians at home, which should have warned them to abandon their wild plans of conquest, and concentrate all their strength for their own defence. The Spartans had long been restrained by a scruple of conscience from an open declaration of war, wishing to avoid the guilt which is associated with the first act of aggression. Eighteen years before they had refused all offers of arbitration, and deliberately provoked an encounter with Athens, in direct violation of the Thirty Years' Truce, which provided for an amicable settlement of differences; and by so acting they had, as they believed, incurred the anger of heaven, and brought on themselves a long train of disasters. But now the position was reversed: for in the previous year the Athenians had made descents on the coasts of Laconia, and other districts of Peloponnesus; and they had repeatedly turned a deaf ear to the friendly overtures of the Spartans, who proposed to submit all disputed matters to a peaceful tribunal.

Thus relieved of their scruples, the Spartans prepared to renew the war in good earnest, and early in the following spring [Footnote: B.C. 413.] they summoned their allies to the Isthmus, and marched under Agis their king into Attica. After ravaging the plain, they encamped at Decelea, fourteen miles north of Athens, and here they established a fortified post, which was garrisoned by contingents of the Peloponnesian army, serving in regular order. Once more Alcibiades had cause to exult in the success of his malignant counsels, which had sent Gylippus to Syracuse, and had now planted this root of bitter mischief on the very soil of Attica.

While the allies were thus engaged at Decelea, a considerable body of troops had embarked at Taenarum and at Corinth, and sailed to take part in the defence of Syracuse. In Greece, all the old enemies of Athens were arming against her, and beyond the sea her prospects grew darker and darker every day. Yet nothing, it seemed, could break the spell of fatal delusion which rested on the doomed city. While Attica lay in the grip of the enemy, a fleet of sixty-five triremes, carrying a great military force, weighed anchor from Peiraeus, and steered its course, under the command of Demosthenes, for Sicily.