Chapter XXXV: The Sicilian Expedition (2)

The Syracusans had scarcely time to rejoice at their victory, or Nicias to bewail his defeat, when a numerous and formidable armament appeared on the Sicilian coast. The foremost galleys, their prows adorned with gaudy streamers, pursued a secure course towards the harbour of Syracuse. The emulation of the rowers was animated by the mingled sounds of trumpet and clarion; and the regular decoration, the elegant splendour, which distinguished every part of the equipment, exhibited a pompous spectacle of naval triumph. Their appearance, even at a distance, announced the country to which they belonged; and both the joy of the besiegers and the terror of the besieged, testified that Athens was the only city in the world capable of sending to the sea such a beautiful and magnificent contribution. The Syracusans employed not unavailing efforts to check the progress, or to hinder the approach, of the hostile armament; which, besides innumerable foreign vessels and transports, consisted of seventy-three Athenian galleys, commanded by the experienced valour of Demosthenes and Eurymedon. The pikemen on board exceeded five thousand; the light-armed troops were nearly as numerous; and, including the rowers, workmen, and attendants, the whole strength may be reckoned equal to that originally sent with Nicias, which amounted to above twenty thousand men.

The misfortunes hitherto attending the operations in Sicily had lowered the character of the general; and this circumstance, as well as the superior abilities of Demosthenes, entitled him to assume the tone of authority in their conjunct deliberations. After ravaging the banks of the Anapus, and making some ineffectual attempts against the fortifications on that side, Demosthenes chose the first hour of a moonlit night, to proceed with the flower of the army to seize the fortresses in Epipolæ. The march was performed with successful celerity; the outposts were surprised, the guards put to the sword; and three separate encampments, of the Syracusans, the Sicilians, the allies, formed a feeble opposition to the Athenian ardour. As if their victory had already been complete, the assailants began to pull down the wooden battlements, or to urge the pursuit with a rapidity which disordered their ranks.

Meanwhile, the vigilant activity of Gylippus had assembled the whole force of Syracuse. At the approach of the enemy his vanguard retired. The Athenians were decoyed within the intricate windings of the walls, and their irregular fury was first checked by the firmness of a Theban phalanx. A resistance so sudden and unexpected might alone have been decisive; but other circumstances were adverse to the Athenians: their ignorance of the ground, the alternate obscurity of night, and the deceitful glare of the moon, which, shining in the front of the Thebans, illumined the splendour of their arms, and multiplied the terror of their numbers. The foremost ranks of the pursuers were repelled; and, as they retreated to the main body, encountered the advancing Argives and Corcyræans, who, singing the pæan in their Doric dialect and accent, were unfortunately taken for enemies. Fear, and then rage, seized the Athenians, who, thinking themselves encompassed on all sides, determined to force their way, and committed much bloodshed among their allies, before the mistake could be discovered.

To prevent the repetition of this dreadful error, their scattered bands were obliged at every moment to demand the watchword, which was at length betrayed to their adversaries. The consequence of this was doubly fatal. At every rencounter the silent Athenians were slaughtered without mercy, while the enemy, who knew their watchword, might at pleasure join, or decline, the battle, and easily oppress their weakness, or elude their strength. The terror and confusion increased; the rout became general; Gylippus pursued in good order with his victorious troops. The vanquished could not descend in a body with the celerity of fear, by the narrow passages through which they had mounted. Many abandoned their arms, and explored the unknown paths of the rocky Epipolæ. Others threw themselves from precipices, rather than await the pursuers. Several thousands were left dead or wounded on the scene of action; and in the morning the greater part of the stragglers were intercepted and cut off by the Syracusan cavalry.

ATHENIAN DISASTER

This dreadful and unexpected disaster suspended the operations of the siege. The Athenian generals spent the time in fruitless deliberations concerning their future measures, while the army lay encamped on the marshy and unhealthy banks of the Anapus. A general sickness broke out in the camp. Demosthenes urged this calamity as a new reason for hastening their departure, while it was yet possible to cross the Ionian Sea, without risking the danger of a winter’s tempest. But Nicias opposed the design of leaving Sicily until they should be warranted to take this important step by the positive authority of the republic. The colleagues of Nicias were confounded with the firmness of an opposition so unlike the flexible timidity of his ordinary character, but they submitted to his opinion, an opinion equally fatal to himself and to them, and to the armament which they commanded.

Meanwhile the prudence of Gylippus profited by the fame of his victory, to draw a powerful reinforcement from the Sicilian cities; and the transports, so long expected from Peloponnesus, finally arrived in the harbour of Ortygia. This squadron formed the last assistance sent to either of the contending parties, and nothing further was required to complete the actors in the scene; for by the accession of the Cyrenians, Syracuse was either attacked or defended by all the various divisions of the Grecian name, which formed, in that age, the most civilised portion of the inhabitants of Asia, Africa, and Europe. The arrival of such powerful auxiliaries to the besieged, and the increasing force of the malady, totally disconcerted the Athenians. Even Nicias agreed to set sail. Every necessary preparation was made for this purpose, and the cover of night was chosen, as most proper for concealing their own disgrace, and for eluding the vengeance of the enemy. But the night appointed for their departure was distinguished by an inauspicious eclipse of the moon. The voyage was deferred till the mystical number of thrice nine days. But before the expiration of that time it was no longer practicable; for the design was soon discovered to the Syracusans, and this discovery, added to the encouragement derived from the circumstances of which we have already taken notice, increased their eagerness to attack the enemy by sea and land. Their attempts failed to destroy, by fire-ships, the Athenian fleet. They were more successful in employing superior numbers to divide the strength and to weaken the resistance of an enfeebled and dejected foe. During three days there was a perpetual succession of military and naval exploits. On the first day fortune hung in suspense; the second deprived the Athenians of a considerable squadron commanded by Eurymedon; and this misfortune was embittered on the third day, by the loss of eighteen galleys, with their crews.

A design, suggested by the wisdom of Hermocrates, was eagerly adopted by the active zeal of his fellow-citizens, who strove, with unremitting ardour, to throw a chain of vessels across the mouth of the Great Harbour, about a mile in breadth. The labour was complete before Nicias, totally occupied by other objects, attempted to interrupt it. After repeated defeats, and although he was so miserably tormented by the stone, that he had frequently solicited his recall, that virtuous commander, whose courage rose in adversity, used the utmost diligence to retrieve the affairs of his country. The shattered galleys were speedily refitted, and again prepared, to the number of a hundred and ten, to risk the event of a battle. As they had suffered greatly, on former occasions, by the hardness and massive solidity of the Syracusan prows, Nicias provided them with grappling-irons, fitted to prevent the recoil of their opponents, and the repetition of the hostile stroke. The decks were crowded with armed men, and the contrivance to which the enemy had hitherto chiefly owed their success, of introducing the firmness and stability of a military, into a naval engagement, was adopted in its full extent by the Athenians. When Gylippus and the Syracusan commanders were apprised of the designs of the enemy, they hastened to the defence of the bar which had been thrown across the entrance of the harbour. Even the Athenian grappling-irons had not been overlooked; to elude the dangerous grasp of these instruments, the prows of the Syracusan vessels were covered with wet and slippery hides.

The first impression of the Athenians was irresistible; they burst through the passage of the bar, and repelled the squadrons on either side. As the entrance widened, the Syracusans, in their turn, rushed into the harbour, which was more favourable than the open sea to their mode of fighting. Thither the foremost of the Athenians returned, either compelled by superior force, or that they might assist their companions. The engagement became general in the mouth of the harbour; and in this narrow space two hundred galleys fought, during the greatest part of the day, with an obstinate and persevering valour. It would require the expressive energy of Thucydides, and the imitative, though inimitable, sounds and expressions of the Grecian tongue, to describe the noise, the tumult, and the ardour of the contending squadrons. The battle was not long confined to the shock of adverse prows, and to the distant hostility of darts and arrows. The nearest vessels grappled, and closed with each other, and their decks were soon converted into a field of blood. While the heavy-armed troops boarded the enemy’s ships, they left their own exposed to a similar misfortune; the fleets were divided into massive clusters of adhering galleys; and the confusion of their mingled shouts overpowered the voice of authority. The singular and tremendous spectacle of an engagement more fierce and obstinate than any that had ever been beheld in the Grecian seas, totally suspended the powers of the numerous and adverse battalions which encircled the coast.

Hope, fear, the shouts of victory, the shrieks of despair, the anxious solicitude of doubtful success, animated the countenances, the voice, and the gestures of the Athenians, whose whole reliance centred in their fleet. When at length their galleys evidently gave way on every side, the contrast of alternate, and the rapid tumult of successive passions, subsided in a melancholy calm. This dreadful pause of astonishment and terror was followed by the disordered trepidation of flight and fear; many escaped to the camp; others ran, uncertain whither to direct their steps; while Nicias, with a small, but undismayed band, remained on the shore to protect the landing of their unfortunate galleys. But the retreat of the Athenians could not probably have been effected, had it not been favoured by the actual circumstances of the enemy, as well as by the peculiar prejudices of ancient superstition. In this well-fought battle, the vanquished had lost fifty and the victors forty vessels. It was incumbent on the latter to employ their immediate and most strenuous efforts to recover the dead bodies of their friends, that they might be honoured with the sacred and indispensable rites of funeral. The day was far spent; the strength of the sailors had been exhausted by a long continuance of unremitting labour; and both they and their companions on shore were more desirous to return to Syracuse to enjoy the fruits of victory, than to irritate the dangerous despair of the vanquished Athenians.

It is observed by the Roman orator Cicero, with no less truth than elegance, that not only the navy of Athens, but the glory and the empire of that republic, suffered shipwreck in the fatal harbour of Syracuse. The despondent degeneracy which immediately followed this ever memorable engagement was testified in the neglect of a duty which the Athenians had never neglected before, and in denying a part of their national character, which it had hitherto been their greatest glory to maintain. They abandoned to insult and indignity the bodies of the slain; and when it was proposed to them by their commanders to prepare next day for a second engagement, since their vessels were still more numerous than those of the enemy, they, who had seldom avoided a superior, and who had never declined the encounter of an equal force, declared, that no motive could induce them to withstand the weaker armament of Syracuse. Their only desire was to escape by land, under cover of the night, from a foe whom they had not courage to oppose, and from a place where every object was offensive to their sight, and most painful to their reflection.

The behaviour of the Syracusans might have proved extremely favourable to this design. The coincidence of a festival and a victory demanded an accumulated profusion of such objects as soothe the senses and please the fancy. Amidst these giddy transports, the Syracusans lost all remembrance of an enemy whom they despised; even the soldiers on guard joined the dissolute or frivolous amusements of their companions; and, during the greatest part of the night, Syracuse presented a mixed scene of secure gayety, of thoughtless jollity, and of mad and dangerous disorder.

The firm and vigilant mind of Hermocrates alone withstood, but was unable to divert, the general current. It was impossible to rouse to the fatigues of war men buried in wine and pleasure, and intoxicated with victory; and, as he could not intercept by force, he determined to retard by stratagem, the intended retreat of the Athenians, whose numbers and resentment would still render them formidable to whatever part of Sicily they might remove their camp. A select band of horsemen, assuming the character of traitors, fearlessly approached the hostile ramparts, and warned the Athenians of the danger of departing that night, as many ambuscades lurked in the way, and all the most important passes were occupied by the enemy. The frequency of treason gained credit to the perfidious advice; and the Athenians, having changed their first resolution, were persuaded by Nicias to wait two days longer, that such measures might be taken as seemed best adapted to promote the safety and celerity of their march.

The superior rank of Nicias entitled him to a pre-eminence of toil and of woe; and he deserves the regard of posterity by his character and sufferings, and still more by the melancholy firmness of his conduct.[j]

Few pages of history are more eloquent than those wherein Thucydides describes the epic miseries of the defeated host of Athens. They have furthermore the merit of great accuracy. The rest of this chapter may therefore be given over to his vivid and tragic picture of the retreat.[a]

THUCYDIDES’ FAMOUS ACCOUNT OF THE FINAL DISASTERS

When Nicias and Demosthenes thought they were sufficiently prepared, the removal of the army took place, on the third day after the sea-fight. It was a wretched scene then, not on account of the single circumstance alone, that they were retreating after having lost all their ships, and while both themselves and their country were in danger, instead of being in high hope; but also because, on leaving their camp, every one had grievous things both to behold with his eyes and to feel in his heart. For as the dead lay unburied, and any one saw a friend on the ground, he was struck at once with grief and fear. And the living who were being left behind, wounded or sick, were to the living a much more sorrowful spectacle than the dead, and more piteous than those who had perished. For having recourse to entreaties and wailings, they reduced them to utter perplexity, begging to be taken away, and appealing to each individual friend or relative that any of them might anywhere see; or hanging on their comrades, as they were now going away; or following as far as they could, and when in any case the strength of their body failed, not being left behind without many appeals to heaven and many lamentations. So that the whole army, being filled with tears and distress of this kind, did not easily get away, although from an enemy’s country, and although they had both suffered already miseries too great for tears to express, and were still afraid for the future, lest they might suffer more. There was also amongst them much dejection and depreciation of their own strength. For they resembled nothing but a city starved out and attempting to escape; and no small one too, for of their whole multitude there were not less than forty thousand on the march.

Of these, all the rest took whatever each one could that was useful, and the heavy-armed and cavalry themselves, contrary to custom, carried their own food under their arms, some for want of servants, others through distrusting them; for they had for a long time been deserting, and did so in greatest numbers at that moment. And even what they carried was not sufficient; for there was no longer any food in the camp. Nor, again, was their other misery, and their equal participation in sufferings (though it affords some alleviation to endure with others), considered even on that account easy to bear at the present time; especially, when they reflected from what splendour and boasting at first they had been reduced to such an abject termination. For this was the greatest reverse that ever befell a Grecian army; since, in contrast to their having come to enslave others, they had to depart in fear of undergoing that themselves; and instead of the prayers and hymns, with which they sailed from home, they had to start on their return with omens the very contrary; going by land, instead of by sea, and relying on a military rather than a naval force. But nevertheless, in consequence of the greatness of the danger still impending, all these things seemed endurable to them.

Nicias, seeing the army dejected, and greatly changed, passed along the ranks, and encouraged and cheered them, as well as existing circumstances allowed; speaking still louder than before, as he severally came opposite to them, in the earnestness of his feeling, and from wishing to be of service to them by making himself audible to as many as possible. If he saw them anywhere straggling, and not marching in order, he collected and brought them to their post; while Demosthenes also did no less to those who were near him, addressing them in a similar manner. They marched in the form of a hollow square, the division under Nicias taking the lead, and that of Demosthenes following; while the baggage bearers and the main crowd of camp followers were enclosed within the heavy-armed.

When they had come to the river Anapus, they found drawn up a body of the Syracusans and allies; but having routed these, and secured the passage, they proceeded onwards; while the Syracusans pressed them with charges of horse, as their light-armed did with their missiles. On that day the Athenians advanced about five miles, and then halted for the night on a hill. The day following, they commenced their march at an early hour, and having advanced about two and a half miles, descended into a level district, and there encamped, wishing to procure some eatables from the houses (for the place was inhabited), and to carry on with them water from it, since for many miles before them, in the direction they were to go, it was not plentiful. The Syracusans, in the meantime, had gone on before, and were blocking up the pass in advance of them. For there was there a steep hill, with a precipitous ravine on either side of it, called the Acræum Lepas. The next day the Athenians advanced, and the horse and dart-men of the Syracusans and allies, each in great numbers, impeded their progress, hurling their missiles upon them, and annoying them with cavalry charges. The Athenians fought for a long time, and then returned again to the same camp, no longer having provisions as they had before; and it was no more possible to leave their position, because of the cavalry.

Starting early, they began their march again, and forced their way to the hill which had been fortified; where they found before them the enemy’s infantry drawn up for the defence of the wall many spears deep; for the pass was but narrow. The Athenians charged and assaulted the wall, but being annoyed with missiles by a large body from the hill, which was steep (for those on the heights more easily reached their aim), and not being able to force a passage, they retreated again, and rested. There happened also to be at the same time some claps of thunder and rain, as is generally the case when the year is now verging on autumn; in consequence of which the Athenians were still more dispirited, and thought that all these things also were conspiring together for their ruin. While they were resting, Gylippus and the Syracusans sent a part of their troops to intercept them again with a wall on their rear, where they had already passed: but they, on their side also, sent some of their men against them, and prevented their doing it. After this, the Athenians returned again with all their army into the more level country, and there halted for the night. The next day they marched forward, while the Syracusans discharged their weapons on them, surrounding them on all sides, and disabled many with wounds; retreating if the Athenians advanced against them, and pressing on them if they gave way; most especially attacking their extreme rear, in the hope that by routing them little by little, they might strike terror into the whole army. The Athenians resisted this mode of attack for a long time, but then, after advancing five or six furlongs, halted for rest on the plain; while the Syracusans went to their camp.

During the night, their troops being in a wretched condition, both from the want of all provisions which was now felt, and from so many men being disabled by wounds in the numerous attacks that had been made upon them by the enemy, Nicias and Demosthenes determined to light as many fires as possible, and then lead off the army, no longer by the same route as they had intended, but in the opposite direction to where the Syracusans were watching for them, namely, to the sea. Now the whole of this road would lead the armament, not towards Catana, but to the other side of Sicily, to Camarina, and Gela, and the cities in that direction, whether Grecian or barbarian. They kindled therefore many fires, and began their march in the night.

And as all armies, especially the largest, are liable to have terrors and panics amongst them, particularly when marching at night, and through an enemy’s country, and with the enemy not far off; so they also were thrown into alarm; and the division of Nicias, taking the lead as it did, kept together and got a long way in advance; while that of Demosthenes, containing about half or more, was separated from the others, and proceeded in greater disorder. By the morning, nevertheless, they arrived at the seacoast, and entering on what is called the Helorine road, continued their march, in order that when they had reached the river Cacyparis, they might march up along its banks through the interior; for they hoped also that in this direction the Sicels, to whom they had sent, would come to meet them. But when they had reached the river, they found a guard of the Syracusans there too, intercepting the pass with a wall and a palisade, having carried which, they crossed the river, and marched on again to another called the Erineus; for this was the route which their guides directed them to take.

_Demosthenes Surrenders His Detachment_

In the meantime the Syracusans and allies, as soon as it was day, and they found that the Athenians had departed, most of them charged Gylippus with having purposely let them escape; and pursuing with all haste by the route which they had no difficulty in finding they had taken, they overtook them about dinner-time. When they came up with the troops under Demosthenes, which were behind the rest, and marching more slowly and disorderly, ever since they had been thrown into confusion during the night, at the time we have mentioned, they immediately fell upon and engaged them; and the Syracusan horse surrounded them with greater ease from their being divided, and confined them in a narrow space.

The division of Nicias was six miles in advance; for he led them on more rapidly, thinking that their preservation depended, under such circumstances, not on staying behind, if they could help it, and on fighting, but on retreating as quickly as possible, and only fighting as often as they were compelled. Demosthenes, on the other hand, was, generally speaking, involved in more incessant labour (because, as he was retreating in the rear, he was the first that the enemy attacked), and on that occasion, finding that the Syracusans were in pursuit, he was not so much inclined to push on, as to form his men for battle; until, through thus loitering, he was surrounded by them, and both himself and the Athenians with him were thrown into great confusion. Being driven back into a certain spot which had a wall all round it, with a road on each side, and many olive trees growing about, they were annoyed with missiles in every direction. This kind of attack the Syracusans naturally adopted, instead of close combat; since risking their lives against men reduced to despair was no longer for their advantage, so much as for that of the Athenians. Besides, after success which was now so signal, each man spared himself in some degree, that he might not be cut off before the end of the business. They thought too that, even as it was, they should by this kind of fighting subdue and capture the Athenians.

At any rate, when, after plying the Athenians and their allies with missiles all day from every quarter, they saw them now distressed by wounds and other sufferings, Gylippus with the Syracusans and allies made a proclamation, in the first place, that any of the islanders who chose should come over to them, on condition of retaining his liberty; and some few states went over. Afterwards, terms were made with all the troops under Demosthenes, that they should surrender their arms, and that no one should be put to death, either by violence or imprisonment, or want of such nourishment as was most absolutely requisite. Thus there surrendered, in all, to the number of six thousand; and they laid down the whole of the money in their possession, throwing it into the hollow of shields, four of which they filled with it. These they immediately led back to the city, while Nicias and his division arrived that day on the banks of the river Erineus; having crossed which, he posted his army on some high ground.

_Nicias Parleys, Fights, and Surrenders_

The Syracusans, having overtaken him the next day, told him that Demosthenes and his division had surrendered themselves, and called on him also to do the same. Being incredulous of the fact, he obtained a truce to enable him to send a horseman to see. When he had gone, and brought word back again that they had surrendered, Nicias sent a herald to Gylippus and the Syracusans, saying that he was ready to agree with the Syracusans, on behalf of the Athenians, to repay whatever money the Syracusans had spent on the war, on condition of their letting his army go; and that until the money was paid, he would give Athenians as hostages, one for every talent. The Syracusans and Gylippus did not accede to these proposals, but fell upon this division also, and surrounded them on all sides, and annoyed them with their missiles until late in the day. And they too, like the others, were in a wretched plight for want of food and necessaries. Nevertheless, they watched for the quiet of the night, and then intended to pursue their march. And they were now just taking up their arms, when the Syracusans perceived it and raised their pæan. The Athenians, therefore, finding that they had not eluded their observation, laid their arms down again; excepting about three hundred men who forced their way through the sentinels, and proceeded, during the night, how and where they could.

As soon as it was day, Nicias led his troops forward; while the Syracusans and allies pressed on them in the same manner, discharging their missiles at them, and striking them down with their javelins on every side. The Athenians were hurrying on to reach the river Assinarus, being urged to this at once by the attack made on every side of them by the numerous cavalry and the rest of the light-armed multitude (for they thought they should be more at ease if they were once across the river), and also by their weariness and craving for drink. When they reached its banks, they rushed into it without any more regard for order, every man anxious to be himself the first to cross it; while the attack of the enemy rendered the passage more difficult. For being compelled to advance in a dense body, they fell upon and trod down one another; and some of them died immediately on the javelins and articles of baggage, while others were entangled together, and floated down the stream. On the other side of the river, too, the Syracusans lined the bank, which was precipitous, and from the higher ground discharged their missiles on the Athenians, while most of them were eagerly drinking in confusion amongst themselves in the hollow bed of the stream. The Peloponnesians, moreover, charged them and butchered them, especially those in the river. And thus the water was immediately spoiled; but nevertheless it was drunk by them, mud and all, and bloody as it was, it was even fought for by most of them.

At length, when many dead were now heaped one upon another in the river, and the army was destroyed, either at the river, or, if any part had escaped, by the cavalry, Nicias surrendered himself to Gylippus, placing more confidence in him than in the Syracusans; and desired him and the Lacedæmonians to do what they pleased with himself, but to stop butchering the rest of the soldiers. After this, Gylippus commanded to make prisoners; and they collected all that were alive, excepting such as they concealed for their own benefit (of whom there was a large number). They also sent a party in pursuit of the three hundred, who had forced their way through the sentinels during the night, and took them. The part of the army, then, that was collected as general property, was not large, but that which was secreted was considerable; and the whole of Sicily was filled with them, inasmuch as they had not been taken on definite terms of surrender, like those with Demosthenes. Indeed no small part was actually put to death; for this was the most extensive slaughter, and surpassed by none of all that occurred in this Sicilian war. In the other encounters also, which were frequent on their march, no few had fallen. But many also escaped; some at the moment, others after serving as slaves, and running away subsequently. These found a place of refuge at Catana.

_The Fate of the Captives_

When the Syracusans and allies were assembled together, they took with them as many prisoners as they could, with the spoils, and returned to the city. All the rest of the Athenians and the allies that they had taken, they sent down into the quarries, thinking this the safest way of keeping them; but Nicias and Demosthenes they executed, against the wish of Gylippus. For he thought it would be a glorious distinction for him, in addition to all his other achievements, to take to the Lacedæmonians the generals who had commanded against them. And it so happened, that one of these, namely Demosthenes, was regarded by them as their most inveterate enemy, in consequence of what had occurred on the island and at Pylos; the other, for the same reasons, as most in their interest; for Nicias had exerted himself for the release of the Lacedæmonians taken from the island, by persuading the Athenians to make a treaty. On this account the Lacedæmonians had friendly feelings towards him; and indeed it was mainly for the same reasons that he reposed confidence in Gylippus, and surrendered himself to him. But certain of the Syracusans (as it was said) were afraid, some of them, since they had held communication with him, that if put to the torture, he might cause them trouble on that account in the midst of their success; others, and especially the Corinthians, lest he might bribe some, as he was rich, and effect his escape, and so they should again incur mischief through his agency; and therefore they persuaded the allies, and put him to death. For this cause then, or something very like it, he was executed, having least of all the Greeks deserved to meet with such a misfortune, on account of his devoted attention to the practice of every virtue.

As for those in the quarries, the Syracusans treated them with cruelty during the first period of their captivity. For as they were in a hollow place, and many in a small compass, the sun, as well as the suffocating closeness, distressed them at first, in consequence of their not being under cover; and then, on the contrary, the nights coming on autumnal and cold, soon worked in them an alteration from health to disease, by means of the change. Since, too, in consequence of their want of room, they did everything in the same place; and the dead, moreover, were piled up on one another--such as died from their wounds, and from the change they had experienced, and such like. There were, besides, intolerable stenches; while at the same time they were tormented with hunger and thirst, for during eight months they gave each of them daily only a _cotyle_[56] of water, and two of corn. And of all the other miseries which it was likely that men thrown into such a place would suffer, there was none that did not fall to their lot. For some seventy days they thus lived all together; then the rest of them were sold, except the Athenians, and whatever Siceliots or Italians had joined them in the expedition.

The total number of those who were taken, though it were difficult to speak with exactness, was still not less than seven thousand. “And this,” says Thucydides in conclusion, “was the greatest Grecian exploit of all that were performed in this war; nay, in my opinion, of all Grecian achievements that we have heard of also; and was at once most splendid for the conquerors, and most disastrous for the conquered. For being altogether vanquished at all points, and having suffered in no slight degree in any respect, they were destroyed (as the saying is) with utter destruction, both army, and navy, and everything; and only a few out of many returned home. Such were the events which occurred in Sicily.”[i]

FOOTNOTES

[55] [Adolph Holm rates it at thirty thousand men.]

[56] The _cotyle_ was a little more than half an English pint; and the allowance of food here mentioned was only half of that commonly given to a slave.