Chapter VI: Part 6

After the battle of Thymbra between Cyrus and Crœsus, which was one of the most considerable events in antiquity, as it passed the empire of Asia from the Assyrians of Babylon to the Persians, Cyrus, the conqueror, marched directly upon Sardis, the capital of Lydia. According to Herodotus, Crœsus did not believe that Cyrus meant to shut him up in the city, and therefore marched out to give him battle. He says the Lydians were the bravest people in Asia. Their principal strength consisted in their cavalry; and Cyrus, in order to render this force ineffective, caused his camels to advance against the horse; and the latter animals, having an instinctive dread or dislike for the former, would not face them. The horsemen dismounted and fought on foot; after an obstinate contest, the Lydians were forced to retreat into their capital city, Sardis, which Cyrus immediately besieged, causing his engines to be brought up and his scaling-ladders to be prepared, as if he meant to take it by assault. But this was a feint; he had been made acquainted with a private way into the city by a Persian slave, who had formerly been in the service of the governor, and at night he quietly made himself master of the citadel. At break of day, he entered the city without resistance. Perceiving that the Chaldeans quitted their ranks and began to disperse themselves, his first care was to prevent the city from being plundered. To effect this required nothing less than the perfect ascendancy which Cyrus had obtained over his troops. He informed the citizens that the lives of themselves and their children, with the honour of their women, were perfectly safe, provided they brought him all their gold and silver. This condition they readily complied with, and Crœsus, the proverbially richest man in the world, was one of the first to lay his wealth at the foot of the conqueror.

The siege of Sardis has nothing remarkable in it, except the change of empires which followed it; but there are several anecdotes connected with it, which our young readers would not forgive us for omitting.

When Cyrus had given all proper directions concerning the city, he had a private conversation with the king, of whom he asked what he now thought of the oracle of Delphi, and of the god who presided over it, whom Crœsus held in great veneration. Crœsus acknowledged that he had justly incurred the indignation of that god, by having shown a distrust of the truth of his answers, and by having put him to the trial by an absurd and ridiculous question; and he then added, that he had still no reason to complain of him, for that, having consulted him that he might know what to do in order to lead a happy life, the oracle had given him as answer, that he should enjoy a perfect and lasting happiness when he had come to the knowledge of himself. “For want of this knowledge,” said he, “and believing myself, through the excessive praises bestowed upon me, to be something very different from what I am, I accepted the title of generalissimo of the whole army, and unadvisedly engaged in war against a prince infinitely my superior in all respects. But now that I am instructed by my defeat, and begin to know myself, I believe that I am going to be happy; and if you prove favourable to me,--and my fate is in your hands,--I shall certainly be so.” Cyrus, touched with compassion at the misfortunes of the king, who was fallen in a moment from so great an elevation, and admiring his equanimity under such a reverse of fortune, treated him with a great deal of clemency and kindness, suffering him to enjoy both the title and authority of king, under the restriction of not having the power to make war; which was, as Crœsus said, relieving him of the great burden of royalty, and leaving him the power of leading a happy life. Thenceforward Cyrus took him with him upon all his expeditions, either out of esteem for him, and to have the benefit of his counsels, or out of policy, and to be more secure of his person. We consider this to have been a sad realization of poor Crœsus’s dream of happiness.

There are other wonders connected with this event, about which we can only say that great historians have related them. For our own parts, we are not so sceptical regarding the remote events of history as some readers and authors are. We see, constantly, matters that must some day belong to history, put in as false a light by the passions and interests of contemporaries, as if they were viewed through the mist of past ages. Again, that which is wonderful is not necessarily untrue. When Marco Paolo returned from his long pilgrimage, his accounts were all received as fables; now, almost all of them prove to be bare truth. We shall never reject a story told by a respectable historian, on account of its being a little miraculous, provided it be amusing, instructive, and elevating, and at the same time a thing with which well-educated youth ought to be acquainted.

The only son Crœsus had living was dumb. This young prince, seeing a soldier about to cut down the king, whom he did not know, with his scimitar, made such a violent effort to save his father’s life, that he broke the string which had confined his tongue, and cried out,--“Soldier! spare the life of Crœsus!”

The account of Cyrus’s conversation, given above, is from Xenophon’s Cyropædia; the following, which greatly differs from the circumstances attending it, is from Herodotus.--How are we to choose? The Cyropædia is by some writers looked upon as little more than a romance; and Herodotus abounds in apocryphal stories.

Crœsus being a prisoner, was condemned by the conqueror to be burnt alive. Accordingly, the funeral pile was prepared, and the unhappy prince, having been laid thereon, and on the point of execution, recollecting the conversation he had formerly had with Solon, was wofully convinced of the truth of that philosopher’s admonition, and in remembrance thereof, cried out three times,--“Solon! Solon! Solon!” Cyrus, who with his court was present, was curious to know why Crœsus pronounced the name of that philosopher with so much vehemence in his extremity. “Mighty king,” replied Crœsus, “when Solon in search of wisdom visited my court, I tried every means to dazzle him, and impress upon him the immense extent of my wealth. When I had displayed it all before him, I asked which man in all his travels he had found the most truly happy, expecting, after what he had seen, he would name me. But he replied, ‘One Tellus, a citizen of Athens, a very honest and good man, who, after having lived all his days without indigence, having always seen his country in a flourishing condition, has left children who are universally esteemed, has had the satisfaction of seeing those children’s children, and at last died gloriously in fighting for his country.’ I was surprised to find that my gold and silver had so little weight; but, supposing I at least might claim the next rank, I asked him, ‘Who of all he had seen was most happy after Tellus?’ Solon replied,--‘Cleobis and Biton, two brothers, of Argos, who had left behind them a perfect pattern of fraternal affection, and of the respect due from children to parents. Upon a solemn festival, when their mother, a priestess of Juno, was to go to the temple, the oxen that were to have drawn her not being ready, the two sons put themselves into the yoke and drew their mother’s chariot thither, a distance of five miles. The mothers of the place, ravished with admiration, congratulated the priestess upon having such sons. She, in the transports of her joy and thankfulness, earnestly entreated the goddess to reward her children with the best thing Heaven can bestow. Her prayers were heard. When the sacrifice was over, her two sons fell asleep in the temple, and there died in a soft and sweet slumber. In honour of their piety, the people of Argos consecrated statues to them in the temple of Delphi.’ ‘What then,’ said I, in a tone of discontent, ‘you do not reckon me amongst the happy at all?’ Solon replied, calmly: ‘King of Lydia, the gods have given us Grecians a spirit of moderation and reserve, which has produced amongst us a plain, popular kind of philosophy, accompanied with a certain generous freedom, void of pride or ostentation, and therefore not well suited to the courts of kings. This philosophy, considering what an infinite number of vicissitudes and accidents the life of man is liable to, does not allow us to glory either in any prosperity we enjoy ourselves, or to admire happiness in others, which perhaps may prove only transient or superficial. The life of man seldom exceeds seventy years, which make up in all six thousand two hundred and fifty days, of which no two are exactly alike; so that the time to come is nothing but a series of various accidents which cannot be foreseen. Therefore, in our opinion, no man can be esteemed happy but he whose happiness the gods continue to the end of his life; as for others, who are perpetually exposed to a thousand dangers, we account their happiness as uncertain as the crown is to a person engaged in battle who has not yet won the victory.’”

Upon hearing this, Cyrus reflected upon the uncertainty of sublunary things, and was touched with compassion for the prince’s misfortunes. He caused him to be taken from the pile, and treated him as long as he lived with kindness and respect. Thus had Solon the honour of saving the life of one king, and of giving a wholesome lesson of instruction to another.

SECOND SIEGE, A.C. 502.

Under the reign of Darius Ochus, the Athenians, seduced by the persuasions of Aristagoras, embarked in an ill-fated expedition against the city of Sardis. We say ill-fated, although they burnt the city, with the exception of the citadel, because this unprovoked attack was the source of all the subsequent wars between Greece and Persia, which produced so many calamities to both countries. The city being principally built of reeds, was soon fired, and as quickly destroyed; but the citadel proved impregnable. The Lydians and Persians, highly exasperated, drove the Athenians and Ionians back to Ephesus, and destroyed many of their ships. Darius being informed of the burning of Sardis, and of the part the Athenians had taken in the affair, resolved from that time to make war upon Greece; and, that he might never forget this resolution, he commanded one of his officers to cry out to him with a loud voice, every night, when he was at supper: “Sire, remember the Athenians!” In the burning of Sardis, a temple of Cybele, the peculiar goddess of that country, was consumed, which was the reason the Persians, in their invasions of Greece, destroyed every sacred edifice that fell in their power.

BABYLON.

A.C. 538.

Cyrus stayed in Asia Minor till he had entirely subdued all the nations that inhabited it, from the Ægean sea to the river Euphrates. Thence he proceeded to Syria and Arabia, which he also subjected. After which he entered Assyria, and advanced towards Babylon, the only city of the East that stood out against him.

The siege of this important place was no easy enterprise. The walls of it were of a prodigious height, and appeared to be inaccessible, without mentioning the immense number of people within them for its defence. The city was said to be stored with sufficient provisions for twenty years. But Cyrus was not a leader to be discouraged by difficulties. Despairing of taking the city by assault, he made the Babylonians believe that he meant to reduce it by famine. To this end, he caused a line of circumvallation to be drawn quite round the city, with a wide and deep ditch, and, that his troops might not be over-fatigued, he divided his army into twelve bodies, and assigned each of them its month for guarding the trenches. The besieged, thinking themselves free from all danger on account of their fortifications and magazines, insulted Cyrus from the top of their walls, and laughed at all his attempts, and all the trouble he gave himself, as so much unprofitable labour.

As soon as the ditch was completed, he began to think seriously of his vast design, which he had communicated to nobody. Providence soon furnished him with as fit an opportunity for this purpose as he could desire. He was informed that a great festival was to be celebrated in the city, and that the Babylonians, on account of that solemnity, would pass the whole night in drinking and debauchery.

Belshazzar, the king, took more interest in this public rejoicing than any other person, and gave a magnificent entertainment to the chief officers of the kingdom and the ladies of the court. When flushed with wine, he ordered the gold and silver vessels which had been taken from the temple of Jerusalem to be brought out; and as an insult to the God of Israel, he, his whole court, and all his concubines, drank out of these sacred vessels. God, who was displeased at such insolence and impiety, at the instant made him sensible whom it was he offended, by a sudden apparition of a hand, writing certain characters upon the wall. The king, terribly surprised and frightened at this vision, immediately sent for all the wise men, diviners and astrologers, that they might read the writing to him, and explain the meaning of it. But they all came in vain, not one of them being able to expound the characters. The obvious reason of this was that the characters were in the Hebrew or Samaritan language, which the Babylonians did not understand. The queen-mother Nitocris, a princess of great merit, coming, upon hearing of this prodigy, into the banqueting-room, endeavoured to compose the mind of the king her son, advising him to send for Daniel, with whose abilities in such matters she was well acquainted, and whom she had employed in the government of the state.

Daniel was therefore immediately sent for, and spoke to the king with the freedom and liberty becoming a prophet. He put him in mind of the dreadful manner in which God had punished the pride of his grandfather Nebuchadnezzar, and the flagrant abuse he made of his power, when he acknowledged no law but his own will, and thought himself empowered to exalt and to abase, to inflict destruction and death, wheresoever he would, only because such was his will and pleasure. “And thou his son,” said he to the king, “hast not humbled thine heart, though thou knewest all this, but hast lifted up thyself against the Lord of heaven; and they have brought the vessels of his house before thee, and thou and thy lords, thy wives and thy concubines, have drunk wine in them; and thou hast praised the gods of silver and of gold, of brass, iron, wood, and stone, which see not, nor hear, nor know; and the God in whose hand thy breath is, and whose are all thy ways, hast thou not glorified. Then was the part of the hand sent from him, and this writing was written. And this is the writing that was written: MENE, TEKEL, UPHARSIN. This is the interpretation of the thing: MENE, God hath numbered thy kingdom, and finished it; TEKEL, thou art weighed in the balances, and art found wanting; PERES, thy kingdom is divided, and given to the Medes and Persians.” This interpretation might be expected to increase the consternation of the company; but they found means to dispel their fears, probably from a persuasion that the calamity was not denounced as present or immediate, and that time might furnish them with expedients to avert it. This, however, is certain, that for fear of disturbing the general joy of the present festival, they put off the discussion of serious matters to another time, and sat down again to their banquet, and continued their revellings to a very late hour.

Cyrus, however, well informed of the confusion that was generally occasioned by this festival, both in the palace and the city, had posted a part of his troops on that side where the river entered into the city, and another part on that side where it went out; and had commanded them to enter the city that very night, by marching along the channel of the river as soon as ever they found it fordable. Having given all necessary orders, and exhorted his officers to follow him, by representing to them that he marched under the guidance of the gods, in the evening he made them open the great receptacles or ditches, on both sides of the city, above and below, that the water of the river might run into them. By this means, that part of the Euphrates was, for a time, emptied; and its channel became nearly dry. Then the two bodies of troops, according to their orders, went into the channel, the one commanded by Gobryas, and the other by Gudatas, and advanced without meeting any obstacle. The invisible guide, who had promised to open all the gates to Cyrus, made the general negligence and disorder of that riotous night subservient to his design, by leaving open the gates of brass which were made to shut up the descents from the quays to the river, and which alone, if they had not been left open, were sufficient to defeat the whole enterprise. Thus did these two bodies of troops penetrate into the very heart of the city without any opposition, and meeting together at the royal palace, according to their agreement, surprised the guards, and cut them to pieces. Some of the company that were within the palace opening the doors to ascertain the cause of the noise they heard without, the soldiers rushed in, and quickly made themselves masters of it. Meeting the king, who came towards them sword in hand, at the head of those that were in the way to succour him, they killed him, and put all that attended him to death. The first thing the conqueror did was to thank the gods for having at last punished that impious king. These words are Xenophon’s, and are very worthy of attention, as they so perfectly agree with what the Scriptures have recorded of the impious Belshazzar.

The taking of Babylon put an end to the Babylonian empire, after a duration of two hundred and ten years, from the beginning of the reign of Nabonassur. Thus was the power of that proud city brought low just fifty years after she had destroyed the city of Jerusalem and her temple. And herein were accomplished those predictions which the prophets Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Daniel had denounced against her. There is still one more, the most important and the most incredible of them all, and yet the Scripture has set it down in the strongest terms, and marked it out with the greatest exactness; a prediction literally fulfilled in all its points: the proof still actually subsists, is the most easy to be verified, and indeed of a nature not to be contested. What[4] I mean is the prediction of so total and absolute a ruin of Babylon, that not the least remains or traces should be left of it.

In the first place, Babylon ceased to be a royal city, the kings of Persia choosing to reside elsewhere. They delighted more in Susa, Ecbatana, Persepolis, or any other place, and did themselves destroy a great part of Babylon. We are informed by Strabo and Pliny, that the Macedonians, who succeeded the Persians, did not only neglect it, and forbear to embellish it, or even repair it, but that, moreover, they built Seleucia in the neighbourhood, on purpose to draw away its inhabitants, and cause it to be deserted. Nothing can better explain what the prophet had foretold: “It shall not be inhabited.” Its own masters endeavour to make it desolate. The new kings of Persia, who afterwards became masters of Babylon, completed the ruin of it by building Ctesiphon, which carried away all the remainder of the inhabitants; so that from the time the curse was pronounced against that city, it seems as if those very persons who ought to have protected it had become its enemies.

SECOND SIEGE, A.C. 510.

So much connection is generally placed between some of the prophetic writings of the Bible and the destruction of the city of Babylon, that we have deemed it necessary to quote in the preceding siege considerably from an established historian on that point. But we must remember that the Scriptures, though intended for the blessing of mankind, are Hebrew books, and that the Jews of the time of the Prophets principally adduced, could not be expected to speak otherwise than they have done against their masters the Babylonians. That the ruin of this great city was not so sudden or so complete is proved by its being able to sustain the siege of which we are about to speak.

Babylon endured with great impatience the yoke of the Persians, and made a strong effort to break its chains, in the reign of Darius, son of Hystaspes. After four years of secret necessary preparation, the Babylonians raised the standard of revolt and provisioned their city. In order to economize their food, they adopted the barbarous precaution of exterminating all useless mouths; they strangled both the women and the children, only permitting the citizens to preserve such of their wives as they were most attached to, and a single maid-servant. From the height of their walls, the besieged, proud of the strength of their ramparts and their murderous magazines, insulted the Persians in the most opprobrious manner. During eighteen months, every art of war, with the valour of a warlike nation, were vainly employed against the revolted city. Darius was beginning to despair of success, when Zopyrus, one of the greatest nobles of Persia, presented himself before him, covered with blood, and with his nose and ears cut off. “Who has treated you thus?” exclaimed the king. “Yourself, my lord,” replied Zopyrus, “and my desire to serve you.” He then explained his design to him, and the plan he had formed to deliver up Babylon to him. Filled with surprise and admiration, Darius gave him liberty to pursue his own course, with a promise to second him. Zopyrus proceeded towards the city, and, on gaining the walls, entreated refuge for one of the victims of the cruelty of Darius, exhibited his wounds, and solicited permission to avenge himself upon an enemy with whose designs he was fully acquainted. His blood and his wounds removed all suspicion; the citizens confided in his word, his courage, and what he termed his misfortunes, and they put him in command of as many troops as he demanded. In the first sortie, he and his band killed a thousand Persians; some days after, two thousand; a third, four thousand strewed the field of battle. Babylon resounded with the praises of Zopyrus; he was termed the preserver of the city. He was made generalissimo of the troops, and the guarding of the walls was intrusted to him. At the time agreed upon, Darius drew close to Babylon; the faithful Zopyrus opened its gates to his master, and placed in his hands a city which he might never have obtained by famine or force. The king loaded Zopyrus with honours, and gave him, for life, the revenue of the city his stratagem had been the means of subduing. When contemplating the physical deficiencies his devotion had created, the grateful monarch was accustomed to say he would rather miss the taking of ten Babylons than permit so faithful a servant to mutilate himself in that manner. In order to prevent similar revolts, great part of the walls were destroyed, and the hundred gates were removed.

Of the importance Babylon retained nearly two hundred years after the above event, we may judge by the splendour of Alexander’s triumphal entrance into that city. Babylon was given up to the Macedonian conqueror immediately after the battle of Arbela, without the trouble of drawing a sword. The reputation of his victories gained him many such bloodless conquests. As it is not a siege, it does not come within our plan to relate more concerning the surrender of this city; but we are sure our younger readers will excuse our departure from our course, to describe the above-named triumph.

Alexander entered the city at the head of his whole army, as if he had been marching to a battle. The walls of Babylon were lined with people, notwithstanding the greatest part of the citizens were gone out to meet him, from the impatience they had to see their new sovereign, whose renown had outstripped his march. Bazophanes, governor of the fortress and guardian of the treasures, strewed the streets with flowers, and raised on both sides of the way silver altars, which smoked not only with frankincense, but the most fragrant perfumes of every kind. Last of all came the presents which were to be made to the king; consisting of herds of cattle, a great many horses, with lions and panthers in iron cages. After these the Magi walked, singing hymns in the manner of their country; then the Chaldeans, accompanied by Babylonian soothsayers and musicians; the latter being accustomed to sing the praises of their kings to their instruments, and the Chaldeans to observe the motions of the planets and the vicissitudes of the seasons. The rear was brought up by the Babylonish cavalry, of which both men and horses were so sumptuous that imagination can scarcely conceive their magnificence. The king commanded the people to walk after his infantry, whilst he, surrounded by his guards, and seated on a chariot, entered the city, and rode to the palace in a kind of triumph. The next day he took a view of all Darius’s money and moveables, and divided the immense wealth he found, with a liberal hand, amongst his army; both leaders and the meanest foot-soldiers shared in the rich prize, which only made them the more anxious to follow their great captain to new conquests.

Of the nearly fatal effects of the luxury of Babylon upon Alexander and his army it is not our province to speak.

CORIOLI.

A.C. 493.

Although we cannot undertake to notice every siege of the cities of Italy which assisted the regular but rapid rise of the Roman power, we shall make it a point not to pass by such as have any interesting association attached to them; and what English youth, with a Shakespeare in his father’s library, is not familiar with Coriolanus in Corioli?

The Volscians tormented the Romans by continual attacks. In order to punish them, the siege of Corioli was resolved upon. It was one of their strongest places. In a sortie, the besiegers repulsed the Romans, and drove them back to their own camp. Furious at such a defeat, Marcius, a young patrician, with a handful of brave companions, returned to the charge, made the Volscians give way in their turn, penetrated with them into the city, and gave it up to pillage. That was the age when military talents were sure of their reward. After the taking of the city, the consul Cominius, before the whole army, ordered Caius Marcius to take a tenth of the booty, before any division was made of the rest, besides presenting him with a fine horse and noble trappings as a reward for his valour. The army expressed their approval of this by their acclamations; but Marcius, stepping forward, said, “That he accepted of the horse, and was happy in the consul’s approbation; but as for the rest, he considered it rather as a pecuniary reward than as a mark of honour, and therefore desired to be excused receiving it, as he was quite satisfied with his proper share of the booty. One favour only in particular I desire,” continued he, “and I beg I may be indulged in it. I have a friend among the Volscians, bound with me in the sacred rites of hospitality, who is a man of virtue and honour. He is now among the prisoners, and from easy and opulent circumstances is reduced to servitude. Of the many misfortunes under which he labours, I should be glad to rescue him from one, which is that of being sold for a slave.” His request, of course, was granted, and his friend was liberated. Here we cannot refrain from noting an error in one whom it is our pride to think almost faultless. Whilst giving one of the most faithful delineations of an historical character in Coriolanus that ever was exhibited on a stage, Shakespeare makes him say, when asked for the name of the friend he wished to serve,--

“By Jupiter, forgot.--
I am weary; yea, my memory is tired.--
Have we no wine here?”

Now, this is not Coriolanus, nor consistent with the hero, who did not forget gratitude in the hour of triumph: he who remembered the friend would not have forgotten his name so lightly. We have seen John Kemble, as he pitched his shield to his armourer, produce great effect by this little speech; but stage effect is a poor compensation for the violation of truth of character.

VEII.

A.C. 371.

The Veientes were the most powerful of the twelve peoples who inhabited Etruria. Their capital, Veii, situated on a steep rock, was only twelve miles from Rome; and the inhabitants were, for more than three hundred and fifty years, the most persevering enemies of the growing republic.

The Romans, tired of seeing their projects constantly thwarted by the Veientes, declared war against them, after a truce of twenty years; and in order the better to carry out that great design, resolved to lay siege to their capital. Situated upon a steep rock, abundantly provided with everything, famine alone could reduce it. The task was a long one, but it did not terrify the Romans. It became necessary to defend the soldier from the rigours of winter, and tents made of skins were erected, which proved as good as houses to them. This being an innovation, the tribunes of the people opposed it strongly, but a check soon silenced their vain clamours. The Veientes, in a sortie, took the besiegers by surprise, burnt their machines, and destroyed most of their works. All orders of the Romans swore not to leave the camp till the city was taken. The horsemen, whom the republic was bound to supply with horses, offered to find them at their own expense. The senate, only anxious for the glory and interest of the state, charmed with this unanimous zeal, assigned for the first time a pay to the horsemen, and to all the volunteers who would repair to the siege. The works were quickly re-established, with the addition of much more considerable new ones. Rome was beginning to look for the most favourable results, when the hatred of the military tribunes, L. Virginius and M. Sergius, who commanded the army, almost annihilated their hopes. The Capenates and the Falerii, neighbours of the Veientes, armed secretly, and surprised and attacked the camp of the Romans. The two tribunes carried their quarrel so far as to separate and divide the army into two parts. Whilst in this state, the enemy fell upon Sergius. The besieged, in concert with them, made a sortie and attacked him on their side. The astonished Romans fought feebly, and soon sought safety in flight. All were in disorder, and the rout became general. Virginius might have saved his colleague, but he preferred enjoying the spectacle of his defeat. The exasperated senate obliged them both to abdicate their commands; they were brought to trial, and very heavily fined for so great a crime. The Falerii returned to the charge, but they were repulsed with great loss. In the mean time, the siege did not advance, and the efforts of the Roman armies terminated in ravaging the lands of their enemies. The following year, the war was still more unsuccessful. Under vain pretences of religion, the military tribunes, with whom the Romans were dissatisfied, were deposed, and a dictator was chosen, as was the custom on all the pressing emergencies of the republic. M. Furius Camillus, whose rare valour and high capacity had been displayed more than once in command, was raised to this supreme dignity. The presence of this great man soon restored the military discipline, which had been weakened by the disunion of the leaders, and brought good fortune back to the standards of Rome. The city was pressed more closely, and the forts which the besieged had destroyed were reconstructed. Camillus defeated the Falerii and the Capenates, and after that victory, he pushed on the attack with additional ardour. At length, despairing of succeeding by force, he had recourse to sapping and mining. His soldiers, by dint of hard labour, opened for themselves a subterraneous passage into the castle; thence, dispersing themselves about the city, whilst the general amused the besieged by an assault, some charged those who defended the walls, whilst others broke down the gates, and let the army into the place in crowds. The terrified citizens knew not which way to fly; all issues were occupied by their enemies. Some were crushed beneath the ruins of the houses, others were consumed by the flames; the image of death was everywhere. The furious soldiery immolated all that came in their way; nothing was heard but cries and lamentations. The dictator put an end to the carnage, and disarmed the prisoners, but in accordance with his promise, gave the city up to the pillage of his victorious troops. The republic received the news of this victory with transports of the liveliest joy, and all orders of the state vied with each other in doing honour to the triumph of Camillus.--And yet they afterwards banished him.

FALERII.

A.C. 394.

The Romans and the Falerii were at war. Camillus being named dictator, attacked these people and besieged their capital. Before the circumvallation of the place was completed, a schoolmaster came out of the city and placed all his pupils in the hands of the Romans, as the readiest means of inducing the inhabitants to surrender. The indignant dictator ordered the perfidious master to be stripped, had his hands tied behind him, and, arming the boys with rods, commanded them to flog the treacherous pedagogue back to the city. Plutarch says that Camillus was much shocked at this action of the schoolmaster, and said to those around them,--“War at best is a savage thing, and wades through a sea of violence and injustice; yet even war itself has its laws, which men of honour will not depart from; nor do they pursue victory so as to avail themselves of acts of villany and baseness. A great general should rely upon his own virtue, and not upon the treachery of others.”

It is said that the magistrates of the place were so affected by the magnanimity of the dictator, that they brought him the keys of the city.

PLATÆÆ.

A.C. 431.

When we compare the intestine wars of the Greeks with the sweeping conquests of the East, we are struck with the vast disproportion in the numbers of combatants engaged, and we are brought to the conviction that acts of heroism, devotedness, and patriotism seem more common and more brilliant where men are but few, than when they are in great masses. The siege of Platææ was carried on on both sides by such a small number of combatants, that the issue might be supposed to have but very little interest; and yet, what a charm there is about everything that relates to Greece! Its feuds are the most important wars in history; its warriors and statesmen the most renowned in the universe, although the territories in question would not equal in revenue those of great English nobles or millionnaires, and the men in fact were not above influential burgesses.

The Peloponnesian war began by the Thebans attacking Platææ, a city of Bœotia, in alliance with the Athenians. Some traitors opened the gates to them. The citizens of Platææ, attacking them in the night, killed them all, with the exception of two hundred whom they made prisoners. The Athenians being informed of what had taken place at Platææ, immediately sent thither both men and provisions. Two or three years after, the Lacedæmonians laid siege to Platææ, under the command of Archidamus, their king. He began by inclosing the city within a circumvallation formed of great trees, the branches of which were intertwined; then he erected a platform or cavalier to arrange his batteries on, in the hope of soon carrying the place, on account of the small number of the besieged. They were but four hundred, but all determined to die rather than submit to the law of a conqueror. When the Platæans saw the enormous lines begin to rise, they built up a wall of wood upon the top of the walls of the city opposite the platform, in order to maintain a superiority over the besiegers. The crevices in this wall were filled up with wood and bricks taken from the demolition of the neighbouring houses; then they mined the platform. The Lacedæmonians, perceiving this, abandoned that project, and contented themselves with constructing another rampart in the form of a crescent, to serve as a retreat when the first wall should be forced, and to oblige the enemy to undertake a second labour. The besiegers having set up their machines, gave a violent shock to the fortifications. The Platæans used every exertion to weaken the effect of these batteries: they broke the stroke of the ram with cords, which turned aside the blow by seizing the ram by the head and throwing it up by main strength. They made use, likewise, of another artifice,--fastening by the two ends a huge beam with long iron chains which were fixed to two large pieces of wood, which extended on one side and were supported upon the wall; when the machine began to play, they raised this beam, and letting it fall crosswise upon the point of the ram, it broke its force and rendered it harmless. At length the Lacedæmonians, astonished at such a resistance, despaired of forcing the place, and, after having vainly attempted to set fire to it, they converted the siege into a blockade, and surrounded the city with a wall of brick, covered both within and without by a deep ditch, and strengthened at regular distances with high and well-defended towers. During the winter, the besieged, seeing no hopes of succour and being short of provisions, formed the resolution of cutting their way through the enemy’s troops; but half of them, confounded at the extent of the peril, lost courage at the moment of undertaking it. The rest, amounting to two hundred and eighty soldiers, persisted in their design, and had the good fortune to succeed. These intrepid warriors commenced by ascertaining the height of the walls by counting the rows of bricks, which was done at several times and by various persons, to avoid mistake; they then made their ladders in proportion. All precautionary measures being taken, the besieged chose a dark, stormy, and rainy night for their attempt. After having passed the first ditch, they drew near the walls without being discovered. They marched at a short distance from each other, to avoid the clashing of their arms, which were very light, in order to allow them to be more active; and they only wore one shoe, to prevent their slipping in the mud. A great number of them succeeded in mounting the wall, armed only with a cuirass and dagger, but as they were advancing toward the towers, a tile which one of them accidentally threw down, betrayed them. A loud cry was immediately given from the tops of the towers, and the whole camp rushed towards the walls, ignorant, from the darkness of the night, of what could be the matter. Those who remained in the city gave an alarm in another direction, to create a diversion; so that the enemy, in doubt, knew not which way to take. They, however, lighted torches on the side towards Thebes, to show that the danger was in that direction. The inhabitants, to render this signal useless, lighted others at the same time in various places. The Platæans who were upon the walls got possession of the two towers, defended the approach to them with arrows and darts, and thus favoured the passage of their companions. They descended the last, and hastened to the ditch, to pass as the others had done. At this moment, a body of three hundred men came out to meet them. The bold fugitives contrived to elude them, and even killed several: they all reached Athens in safety, with the exception of one archer, who was taken at the side of the ditch. Those who were left in the city defended themselves for a considerable time with courage; but at length, after having endured all the evils of a long siege, exhausted rather than vanquished, they surrendered at discretion. They were slaughtered without pity, and their wives were reduced to slavery. The following year, the city was completely razed to the ground.

BYBLOS.

A.C. 454.

We should have passed by this siege as unimportant, had we not been struck by the great disproportion of the parties engaged, and consequently, by the fact of the superiority of a few brave well-disciplined troops over an unmanageable multitude.

Inarus, a prince of Libya, favoured by the Athenians, proclaimed himself king of Egypt, at the time that country was under the subjection of Artaxerxes Longimanus, king of Persia. Irritated at the revolt, Artaxerxes sent three hundred thousand men to quell it. He gave the command of this army to Megabyzus. Inarus could not resist such an inundation, and he at once abandoned Egypt and shut himself up, with a few of his countrymen and six thousand Athenians, in Byblos, a city of the isle of Prosopitis. This city, surrounded by the waters of the Nile, was constantly revictualled by the Athenians, and for a year and a half the Persians made useless efforts to gain possession of it. Tired of such protracted labours, the Persians formed the plan of turning, by numerous cuttings, the arm of the Nile in which the Athenian fleet lay. They succeeded; and Inarus, terrified at the probable consequences, surrendered upon composition; but the bold bearing of the Athenians, their admirable discipline, and the order of their battalions, made the host of Persians afraid to attack them. They were offered an honourable capitulation; they accepted it, gave up Byblos, and returned to Greece, proud of having been thought invincible by a multitude of barbarians.

ATHENS.

A.C. 480.

During the invasion of Xerxes, all the Grecian cities in his passage were subdued or felt the disastrous effects of his vengeance. The Athenians, too proud to submit, and too weak to defend themselves alone by land, sent to consult the oracle at Delphi. The god replied: “_It is only within walls of wood the city will find safety_.” Themistocles persuaded the people that Apollo ordered them to instantly quit their city, and embark on board a good fleet, after having provided places of security for their wives and children. In consequence of this advice, they embarked, after having sent their aged, their women, and their children, to Trozene, in the Peloponnesus. We cannot imagine a more affecting spectacle than the departure of this fleet; the unfortunate inhabitants kept their eyes, bathed in tears, fixed upon their abandoned homes till distance or darkness rendered them invisible. The very animals shared the common grief, running along the shore, and seeming to call back their masters by their cries. It is said that a dog belonging to Xantippus, the father of Pericles, threw himself into the sea, and swam by the side of his vessel till it reached Salamis, where it sunk exhausted upon the beach and died. This imaginative people erected a monument to this faithful dog, called “The Grave of the Dog.” In the mean time, the Persian army entered Athens, forced the citadel, defended to the last by a small number of self-devoted men, and reduced the superb city to ashes.

SECOND SIEGE, A.C. 404.

After the battle of Platææ, the citizens of Athens returned to their country, and built a superb city upon the ruins of the ancient one. By recovering its splendour, it attracted the jealousy of its rival Sparta, the capital of Lacedæmonia. This was the commencement of the famous Peloponnesian war. In the twenty-ninth year of this war, Lysander, having conquered the Athenians at Ægospotamos, marched directly against Athens. Though without vessels, without provisions, without hope, the Athenians defended themselves for eight months, and then surrendered, conquered alone by famine. The Spartans disgraced themselves by destroying the walls of the first city of Greece to the sound of musical instruments; and they established a government of thirty tyrants, in order to subdue the spirit of the unfortunate inhabitants.

This servitude did not last long; Athens was delivered from the yoke of the Thirty, by means of five hundred soldiers, raised by a simple Syracusan orator, named Lysias, out of veneration for the common country of eloquence. The expulsion of the thirty tyrants took place the same year that the kings were expelled from Rome.

After being opposed strongly to Philip, and submissive to Alexander, Athens was taken successively by his successors, Antipater, Demetrius, and Antigonus; its wealth being a rich bait for these captains, whose vanity was continually wounded by the haughtiness of the city, which gave rise to aggressions often but little merited.

THIRD SIEGE, A.C. 87.

Archelaus, a general of Mithridates, king of Pontus, entered Athens by means of a sophist named Aristion, to whom he gave the principal authority of the place. The Athenians claimed the assistance of the Romans, and Sylla took the matter upon his own hands.

Upon Sylla’s arrival in Greece, all the cities opened their gates to him, with the exception of Athens, which, subject to Aristion, was obliged unwillingly to oppose him. When the Roman general entered Attica, he divided his forces into two bodies, the one of which he sent to besiege Aristion, in the city of Athens, and with the other he marched in person to the port Piræus, which was a kind of second city, where Archelaus had shut himself up, relying upon the strength of the place, the walls being sixty feet high, and all of hewn stone. This had been the work of Pericles, during the Peloponnesian war.

The height of the walls did not amaze Sylla. He employed all kinds of engines in battering them, and made continual assaults. If he would have waited a little, he might have taken the higher city without striking a blow, for it was reduced to the last extremity by famine; but being in haste to return to Rome, where he apprehended changes might happen in his absence, he spared neither danger, attacks, nor expense, to hasten the conclusion of this war. Without enumerating the rest of the warlike stores and equipage, twenty thousand mules were perpetually employed in working the machines alone. Wood falling short, from the great consumption of it in the machines, which were constantly being broken, in consequence of the vast weight they carried, or burnt by the enemy, he did not spare the sacred groves. He cut down the beautiful avenues of the Academy and the Lycæum, and caused the high walls which joined the port to the city to be demolished, for the sake of the ruins, which were useful to him in the works he was carrying on. Having occasion for a great deal of money, both for the expenses of the war, and as a stimulus to the soldiers, he had recourse to the hitherto inviolable treasures of the temples, and caused the finest and most precious gifts, consecrated at Epidamus and Olympia, to be brought thence. He wrote to the Amphyctions, assembled at Delphi, “That they would act wisely in sending him the treasures of the god, because they would be more secure in his hands; and that if he should be obliged to make use of them, he would return the value after the war.” At the same time he sent one of his friends, named Caphis, a native of Phocis, to Delphi, to receive all those treasures by weight. When Caphis arrived at Delphi, he was afraid, through reverence for the god, to meddle with the consecrated gifts, and bewailed with tears, in the presence of the Amphyctions, the necessity imposed upon him. Upon which some person there having said that he heard the sound of Apollo’s lyre from the interior of the sanctuary, Caphis, whether he really believed it or not, was willing to take advantage of the circumstance to impress Sylla with a religious awe, and wrote him an account of it. Sylla, deriding his simplicity, replied, “That he was surprised he should not comprehend that singing was a sign of joy, and by no means of anger and resentment; and, therefore, he had nothing to do but to take the treasures boldly, and be assured that the god saw him do so with pleasure, and gave them to him himself.” Plutarch, on this occasion, notices the difference between the ancient Roman generals and those of the times we now speak of. The former, whom merit alone had raised to office, and who had no other views from their employments but the public good, knew how to make the soldiers respect and obey them, without descending to use low and unworthy methods for that purpose. They commanded troops that were steady, disciplined, and well enured to execute the orders of their generals, without reply or delay. Truly kings, says Plutarch, in the grandeur and nobility of their sentiments, but simple and modest private persons in their train and equipage, they put the state to no other expense, in the discharge of their offices, than was reasonable and necessary, conceiving it more shameful in a captain to flatter his soldiers than to fear his enemies. Things were much changed in the time we now speak of. The Roman generals, abandoned to insatiable ambition and luxury, were obliged to make themselves slaves to their soldiers, and to buy their services by gifts proportioned to their avidity, and often by the toleration and impunity of the greatest crimes.

Sylla was exceedingly anxious about this siege, and was, as we have said, in great want of money. He was desirous of depriving Mithridates of the only city he held in Greece, which might almost be considered as a key to Asia, whither the Romans were eager to follow the king of Pontus. If he returned to Rome without achieving this conquest, he would find Marius and his faction more formidable than ever. He was besides sensibly galled by the keen raillery which Aristion vented every day against him and his wife Metella.

It is difficult to say whether the attack or defence was conducted with the most vigour; for both sides behaved with incredible courage and firmness. The sallies were frequent, and were, in character, almost battles, in which the slaughter was great, and the loss generally not unequal. The besieged were supported by several seasonable reinforcements by sea.

What did them most damage was the secret treachery of two Athenian slaves, who were in the Piræus. These slaves, whether out of affection for the Roman interest, or desirous of providing for their own safety in case the place were taken, wrote upon leaden balls all that was going forward within, and threw them from slings to the Romans; so that, how prudent soever were the measures adopted by Archelaus, none of them succeeded. He resolved to make a general sally; the traitor slung a leaden ball, inscribed, “To-morrow, at such an hour, the fort will attack your works, and the horse your camp.” Sylla laid ambushes, and repulsed the besieged with loss. A convoy of provisions, sadly wanted, was to be thrown into the city by night; upon advice, conveyed in the same way, the provisions were intercepted.

Notwithstanding all these disappointments, the Athenians defended themselves bravely. They found means either to burn most of the machines erected against their walls, or, by undermining them, to throw them down, and break them to pieces. The Romans, on their side, behaved with no less vigour. By means of mines, they made a way to the bottom of the walls, under which they hollowed the ground; and having propped the foundation with beams of wood, they afterwards set fire to the props, with a great quantity of pitch, sulphur, and tar. When these beams were burnt, part of the wall fell down with a horrible noise, and a large breach was opened, through which the Romans advanced to the assault. This battle was contested with great obstinacy, but at length the Romans were obliged to retire.