CHAPTER LX.
FROM THE RESUMPTION OF DIRECT HOSTILITIES BETWEEN ATHENS AND SPARTA, DOWN TO THE DESTRUCTION OF THE ATHENIAN ARMAMENT IN SICILY.

The Syracusan war now no longer stands apart, as an event by itself, but becomes absorbed in the general war rekindling throughout Greece. Never was any winter so actively and extensively employed in military preparations, as the winter of 414-413 B.C., the months immediately preceding that which Thucydidês terms the nineteenth spring of the Peloponnesian war, but which other historians call the beginning of the Dekeleian war.[415] While Eurymedon went with his ten triremes to Syracuse, even in midwinter, Demosthenês exerted himself all the winter to get together the second armament for early spring. Twenty other Athenian triremes were farther sent round Peloponnesus to the station of Naupaktus, to prevent any Corinthian reinforcements from sailing out of the Corinthian gulf. Against these latter, the Corinthians on their side prepared twenty-five fresh triremes, to serve as a convoy to the transports carrying their hoplites.[416] In Corinth, Sikyôn, and Bœotia, as well as at Lacedæmon, levies of hoplites were going on for the armament to Syracuse, at the same time that everything was getting ready for the occupation of Dekeleia. Lastly, Gylippus was engaged with not less activity in stirring up all Sicily to take a more decisive part in the coming year’s struggle.

From Cape Tænarus in Laconia, at the earliest moment of spring, embarked a force of six hundred Lacedæmonian hoplites—Helots and Neodamodes—under the Spartan Ekkritus, and three hundred Bœotian hoplites under the Thebans Xenon and Nikon, with the Thespian Hegesandrus. They were directed to cross the sea southward to Kyrênê in Libya, and from thence to make their way along the African coast to Sicily. At the same time a body of seven hundred hoplites under Alexarchus, partly Corinthians, partly hired Arcadians, partly Sikyonians, under constraint from their powerful neighbors,[417] departed from the northwest of Peloponnesus and the mouth of the Corinthian gulf for Sicily, the Corinthian triremes watching them until they were past the Athenian squadron at Naupaktus.

These were proceedings of importance: but the most important of all was the reinvasion of Attica at the same time by the great force of the Peloponnesian alliance, under the Spartan king Agis son of Archidamus. Twelve years had elapsed since Attica last felt the hand of the destroyer, a little before the siege of Sphakteria. The plain in the neighborhood of Athens was now first laid waste, after which the invaders proceeded to their special purpose of erecting a fortified post for occupation at Dekeleia. The work, apportioned among the allies present, who had come prepared with the means of executing it, was completed during the present summer, and a garrison was established there composed of contingents relieving each other at intervals, under the command of king Agis himself. Dekeleia was situated on an outlying eminence belonging to the range called Parnês, about fourteen miles to the north of Athens, near the termination of the plain of Athens, and commanding an extensive view of that plain as well as of the plain of Eleusis. The hill on which it stood, if not the fort itself, was visible even from the walls of Athens. It was admirably situated both as a central point for excursions over Attica, and for communication with Bœotia; while the road from Athens to Orôpus, the main communication with Eubœa, passed through the gorge immediately under it.[418]

We read with amazement, and the contemporary world saw with yet greater amazement, that while this important work was actually going on, and while the whole Peloponnesian confederacy was renewing its pressure with redoubled force upon Athens, at that very moment,[419] the Athenians sent out, not only a fleet of thirty triremes under Chariklês to annoy the coasts of Peloponnesus, but also the great armament which they had resolved upon under Demosthenês, to push offensive operations against Syracuse. The force under the latter general consisted of sixty Athenian and five Chian triremes; of twelve hundred Athenian hoplites of the best class, chosen from the citizen muster-roll; with a considerable number of hoplites besides, from the subject-allies and elsewhere. There had been also engaged on hire fifteen hundred peltasts from Thrace, of the tribe called Dii; but these men did not arrive in time, so that Demosthenês set sail without them.[420] Chariklês having gone forward to take aboard a body of allies from Argos, the two fleets joined at Ægina, inflicted some devastations on the coasts of Laconia, and established a strong post on the island of Kythêra to encourage desertion among the Helots. From hence Chariklês returned with the Argeians, while Demosthenês conducted his armament round Peloponnesus to Korkyra.[421] On the Eleian coast, he destroyed a transport carrying hoplites to Syracuse, though the men escaped ashore: from thence he proceeded to Zakynthus and Kephallenia, from whence he engaged some additional hoplites, and to Anaktorium, in order to procure darters and slingers from Akarnania. It was here that he was met by Eurymedon with his ten triremes, who had gone forward to Syracuse in the winter with the pecuniary remittance urgently required, and was now returning to act as colleague of Demosthenês in the command.[422] The news brought by Eurymedon from Sicily was in every way discouraging. Yet the two admirals were under the necessity of sparing ten triremes from their fleet to reinforce Konon at Naupaktus, who was not strong enough alone to contend against the Corinthian fleet which watched him from the opposite coast. To make good this diminution, Eurymedon went forward to Korkyra, with the view of obtaining from the Korkyræans fifteen fresh triremes and a contingent of hoplites, while Demosthenês was getting together the Akarnanian darters and slingers.[423]

Eurymedon not only brought back word of the distressed condition of the Athenians in the harbor of Syracuse, but had also learned, during his way back, their heavy additional loss by the capture of the fort at Plemmyrium. Gylippus returned to Syracuse early in the spring, nearly about the time when Agis invaded Attica and when Demosthenês quitted Peiræus. He returned with fresh reinforcements from the interior, and with redoubled ardor for decisive operations against Nikias before aid could arrive from Athens. It was his first care, in conjunction with Hermokratês, to inspire the Syracusans with courage for fighting the Athenians on shipboard. Such was the acknowledged superiority of the latter at sea, that this was a task of some difficulty, calling for all the eloquence and ascendency of the two leaders: “The Athenians (said Hermokratês to his countrymen) have not been always eminent at sea as they now are: they were once landsmen like you, and more than you, they were only forced on shipboard by the Persian invasion. The only way to deal with bold men like them, is to show a front bolder still. They have often by their audacity daunted enemies of greater real force than themselves, and they must now be taught that others can play the same game with them. Go right at them before they expect it; and you will gain more by thus surprising and intimidating them, than you will suffer by their superior science.” Such lessons, addressed to men already in the tide of success, were presently efficacious, and a naval attack was resolved.[424]

The town of Syracuse had two ports, one on each side of the island of Ortygia. The lesser port—as it was called afterwards, the Portus Lakkius—lay northward of Ortygia, between that island and the low ground or Nekropolis near the outer city: the other lay on the opposite side of the isthmus of Ortygia within the Great Harbor. Both of them, it appears, were protected against attack from without, by piles and stakes planted in the bottom in front of them. But the lesser port was the more secure of the two, and the principal docks of the Syracusans were situated within it; the Syracusan fleet, eighty triremes strong, being distributed between them. The entire Athenian fleet was stationed under the fort of Plemmyrium, immediately opposite to the southern point of Ortygia.

Gylippus laid his plan with great ability, so as to take the Athenians completely by surprise. Having trained and prepared the naval force as thoroughly as he could, he marched out his land-force secretly by night, over Epipolæ and round by the right bank of the Anapus, to the neighborhood of the fort of Plemmyrium. With the first dawn of morning, the Syracusan fleet sailed out, at one and the same signal, from both the ports; forty-five triremes out of the lesser port, thirty-five out of the other. Both squadrons tried to round the southern point of Ortygia, so as to unite and to attack the enemy at Plemmyrium in concert. The Athenians, though unprepared and confused, hastened to man sixty ships; with twenty-five of which, they met the thirty-five Syracusans sailing forth from the Great Harbor, while with the other thirty-five they encountered the forty-five from the lesser port, immediately outside of the mouth of the Great Harbor. In the former of these two actions the Syracusans were at first victors; in the second also, the Syracusans from the outside forced their way into the mouth of the Great Harbor, and joined their comrades. But being little accustomed to naval warfare, they presently fell into complete confusion, partly in consequence of their unexpected success: so that the Athenians, recovering from the first shock, attacked them anew and completely defeated them; sinking or disabling eleven ships, of three of which the crews were made prisoners, the rest being mostly slain.[425] Three Athenian triremes were destroyed also.

But this victory, itself not easily won, was more than counterbalanced by the irreparable loss of Plemmyrium. During the first excitement at the Athenian naval station, when the ships were in course of being manned to meet the unexpected onset from both ports at once, the garrison of Plemmyrium went to the water’s edge to watch and encourage their countrymen, leaving their own walls thinly guarded, and little suspecting the presence of their enemy on the land side. This was just what Gylippus had anticipated. He attacked the forts at daybreak, taking the garrison completely by surprise, and captured them after a feeble resistance; first the greatest and most important fort, next the two smaller. The garrison sought safety as they could, on board the transports and vessels of burden at the station, and rowed across the Great Harbor to the land-camp of Nikias on the other side. Those who fled from the greater fort, which was the first taken, ran some risk from the Syracusan triremes, which were at that moment victorious at sea. But by the time that the two lesser forts were taken, the Athenian fleet had regained its superiority, so that there was no danger of similar pursuit in the crossing of the Great Harbor.

This well-concerted surprise was no less productive to the captors than fatal as a blow to the Athenians. Not only were many men slain, and many made prisoners, in the assault, but there were vast stores of every kind, and even a large stock of money found within the fort; partly belonging to the military chest, partly the property of the trierarchs and of private merchants, who had deposited it there as in the place of greatest security. The sails of not less than forty triremes were also found there, and three triremes which had been dragged up ashore. Gylippus caused one of the three forts to be pulled down, and carefully garrisoned the other two.[426]

Great as the positive loss was here to the Athenians at a time when their situation could ill bear it, the collateral damage and peril growing out of the capture of Plemmyrium was yet more serious, besides the alarm and discouragement which it spread among the army. The Syracusans were now masters of the mouth of the harbor on both sides, so that not a single storeship could enter without a convoy and a battle. What was of not less detriment, the Athenian fleet was now forced to take station under the fortified lines of its own land-force, and was thus cramped up on a small space in the innermost portion of the Great Harbor, between the city-wall and the river Anapus; the Syracusans being masters everywhere else, with full communication between their posts all round, hemming in the Athenian position both by sea and by land.

To the Syracusans, on the contrary, the result of the recent battle proved every way encouraging; not merely from the valuable acquisition of Plemmyrium, but even from the sea-fight itself, which had indeed turned out to be a defeat, but which promised at first to be a victory, had they not thrown away the chance by their own disorder. It removed all superstitious fear of Athenian nautical superiority; while their position was so much improved by having acquired the command of the mouth of the harbor, that they began even to assume the aggressive at sea. They detached a squadron of twelve triremes to the coast of Italy, for the purpose of intercepting some merchant vessels coming with a supply of money to the Athenians. So little fear was there of an enemy at sea, that these vessels seem to have been coming without convoy, and were for the most part destroyed by the Syracusans, together with a stock of ship-timber which the Athenians had collected near Kaulonia. In touching at Lokri, on their return, they took aboard a company of Thespian hoplites who had made their way thither in a transport. They were also fortunate enough to escape the squadron of twenty triremes which Nikias detached to lie in wait for them near Megara, with the loss of one ship, however, including her crew.[427]

One of this Syracusan squadron had gone forward from Italy with envoys to Peloponnesus, to communicate the favorable news of the capture of Plemmyrium, and to accelerate as much as possible, the operations against Attica, in order that no reinforcements might be sent from thence. At the same time, other envoys went from Syracuse—not merely Syracusans, but also Corinthians and Lacedæmonians—to visit the cities in the interior of Sicily. They made known everywhere the prodigious improvement in Syracusan affairs arising from the gain of Plemmyrium, as well as the insignificant character of the recent naval defeat. They strenuously pleaded for farther aid to Syracuse without delay, since there were now the best hopes of being able to crush the Athenians in the harbor completely, before the reinforcements about to be despatched could reach them.[428]

While these envoys were absent on their mission, the Great Harbor was the scene of much desultory conflict, though not of any comprehensive single battle. Since the loss of Plemmyrium, the Athenian naval station was in the northwest interior corner of that harbor, adjoining the fortified lines occupied by their land-army. It was inclosed and protected by a row of posts or stakes stuck in the bottom and standing out of the water.[429] The Syracusans on their side had also planted a stockade in front of the interior port of Ortygia, to defend their ships, their ship-houses, and their docks within. As the two stations were not far apart, each party watched for opportunities of occasional attack or annoyance by missile weapons to the other; and daily skirmishes of this sort took place, in which on the whole the Athenians seem to have had the advantage. They even formed the plan of breaking through the outworks of the Syracusan dockyard, and burning the ships within. They brought up a ship of the largest size, with wooden towers and side defences, against the line of posts fronting the dockyard, and tried to force the entrance, either by means of divers, who sawed them through at the bottom, or by boat-crews, who fastened ropes round them and thus unfixed or plucked them out. All this was done under cover of the great vessel with its towers manned by light-armed, who exchanged showers of missiles with the Syracusan bowmen on the top of the ship-houses, and prevented the latter from coming near enough to interrupt the operation. The Athenians contrived thus to remove many of the posts planted, even the most dangerous among them, those which did not reach to the surface of the water, and which therefore a ship approaching could not see. But they gained little by it, since the Syracusans were able to plant others in their room. On the whole, no serious damage was done, either to the dockyard or to the ships within. And the state of affairs in the Great Harbor stood substantially unaltered, during all the time that the envoys were absent on their Sicilian tour, probably three weeks or a month.[430]

These envoys had found themselves almost everywhere well received. The prospects of Syracuse were now so triumphant, and those of Nikias with his present force so utterly hopeless, that the waverers thought it time to declare themselves; and all the Greek cities in Sicily, except Agrigentum, which still remained neutral (and of course except Naxos and Katana), resolved on aiding the winning cause. From Kamarina came five hundred hoplites, four hundred darters, and three hundred bowmen; from Gela, five triremes, four hundred darters, and two hundred horsemen. Besides these, an additional force from the other cities was collected, to march to Syracuse in a body across the interior of the island, under the conduct of the envoys themselves. But this part of the scheme was frustrated by Nikias, who was rendered more vigilant by the present desperate condition of his affairs, than he had been in reference to the cross march of Gylippus. At his instance, the Sikel tribes Kentoripes and Halikyæi, allies of Athens, were prevailed upon to attack the approaching enemy. They planned a skilful ambuscade, set upon them unawares, and dispersed them with the loss of eight hundred men. All the envoys were also slain, except the Corinthian, who conducted the remaining force, about fifteen hundred in number, to Syracuse.[431]

This reverse—which seems to have happened about the time when Demosthenês with his armament were at Korkyra, on the way to Syracuse—so greatly dismayed and mortified the Syracusans, that Gylippus thought it advisable to postpone awhile the attack which he intended to have made immediately on the reinforcement arriving.[432] The delay of these few days proved nothing less than the salvation of the Athenian army.

It was not until Demosthenês was approaching Rhegium within two or three days’ sail of Syracuse, that the attack was determined on without farther delay. Preparation in every way had been made for it long before, especially for the most effective employment of the naval force. The captains and ship-masters of Syracuse and Corinth had now become fully aware of the superiority of Athenian nautical manœuvre, and of the causes upon which that superiority depended. The Athenian trireme was of a build comparatively light, fit for rapid motion through the water, and for easy change of direction: its prow was narrow, armed with a sharp projecting beak at the end, but hollow and thin, not calculated to force its way through very strong resistance. It was never intended to meet, in direct impact and collision, the prow of an enemy: such a proceeding passed among the able seamen of Athens for gross awkwardness. In advancing against an enemy’s vessel, they evaded the direct shock, steered so as to pass by it, then, by the excellence and exactness of their rowing, turned swiftly round, altered their direction and came back before the enemy could alter his: or perhaps rowed rapidly round him, or backed their ship stern foremost, until the opportunity was found for driving the beak of their ship against some weak part of his, against the midships, the quarter, the stern, or the oarblades without. In such manœuvres the Athenians were unrivalled: but none such could be performed unless there were ample sea-room, which rendered their present naval station the most disadvantageous that could be imagined. They were cooped up in the inmost part of a harbor of small dimensions, close on the station of their enemies, and with all the shore, except their own lines, in possession of those enemies: so that they could not pull round from want of space, nor could they back water, because they durst not come near shore. In this contracted area, the only mode of fighting possible was by straightforward collision, prow against prow; a process which not only shut out all their superior manœuvring, but was unsuited to the build of their triremes. On the other hand, the Syracusans, under the advice of the able Corinthian steersman Aristo, altered the construction of their triremes to meet the special exigency of the case, disregarding all idea of what had been generally looked upon as good nautical manœuvring.[433] Instead of the long, thin, hollow, and sharp, advancing beak, striking the enemy considerably above the water-level, and therefore doing less damage, they shortened the prow, but made it excessively heavy and solid, and lowered the elevation of the projecting beak: so that it became not so much calculated to pierce, as to break in and crush by main force all the opposing part of the enemy’s ship, not far above the water. What were called the epôtids, “ear-caps,” or nozzles, projecting forwards to the right and left of the beak, were made peculiarly thick, and sustained by under-beams let in to the hull of the ship. In the Attic build, the beak stood forward very prominent, and the epôtids on each side of it were kept back, serving the same purpose as what are called catheads, in modern ships, to which the anchors are suspended: but in the Corinthian build, the beak projected less, and the epôtids more, so that they served to strike the enemy: instead of having one single beak, the Corinthian ship might be said to have three nozzles.[434] The Syracusans relied on the narrowness of the space, for shutting out the Athenian evolutions, and bringing the contest to nothing more than a straightforward collision; in which the weaker vessel would be broken and stove in at the prow, and thus rendered unmanageable.

Having completed these arrangements, their land-force was marched out under Gylippus to threaten one side of the Athenian lines, while the cavalry and the garrison of the Olympieion marched up to the other side. The Athenians were putting themselves in position to defend their walls from what seemed to be a land attack, when they saw the Syracusan fleet, eighty triremes strong, sailing out from its dock prepared for action: upon which they too, though at first confused by this unexpected appearance, put their crews on shipboard, and went out of their palisaded station, seventy-five triremes in number, to meet the enemy. The whole day passed off, however, in desultory and indecisive skirmish, with trifling advantage to the Syracusans, who disabled one or two Athenian ships, yet merely tried to invite the Athenians to attack, without choosing themselves to force on a close and general action.[435]

It was competent to the Athenians to avoid altogether a naval action, at least until the necessity arose for escorting fresh supplies into the harbor, by keeping within their station; and as Demosthenês was now at hand, prudence counselled this reserve. Nikias himself, too, is said to have deprecated immediate fighting, but to have been outvoted by his two newly-appointed colleagues Menander and Euthydemus, who were anxious to show what they could do without Demosthenês, and took their stand upon Athenian maritime honor, which peremptorily forbade them to shrink from the battle when offered.[436]

Though on the next day the Syracusans made no movement, yet Nikias foreseeing that they would speedily recommence, and noway encouraged by the equal manifestations of the preceding day, caused every trierarch to repair what damage his ship had sustained, and even took the precaution of farther securing his naval station by mooring merchant-vessels just alongside of the openings in the palisade, about two hundred feet apart. The prows of these vessels were provided with dolphins, or beams lifted up on high and armed at the end with massive heads of iron, which could be so let fall as to crush any ship entering:[437] any Athenian trireme which might be hard-pressed, would thus be enabled to get through this opening where no enemy could follow, and choose her own time for sailing out again. Before night these arrangements were completed, and at the earliest dawn of next day, the Syracusans reappeared, with the same demonstrations both of land force and naval force as before. The Athenian fleet having gone forth to meet them, several hours were spent in the like indecisive and partial skirmishes, until at length the Syracusan fleet sailed back to the city again without bringing on any general or close combat. The Athenians, construing this retirement of the enemy as evidence of backwardness and unwillingness to fight,[438] and supposing the day’s duty at an end, retired on their side within their own station, disembarked, and separated to get their dinners at leisure, having tasted no food that day.

But ere they had been long ashore, they were astonished to see the Syracusan fleet sailing back to renew the attack, in full battle order. This was a manœuvre suggested by the Corinthian Aristo, the ablest steersman in the fleet; at whose instance, the Syracusan admirals had sent back an urgent request to the city authorities, that an abundant stock of provisions might for that day be brought down to the sea-shore, and sale be rendered compulsory; so that no time should be lost, when the fleet returned thither, in taking a hasty meal without dispersion of the crews. Accordingly the fleet, after a short but sufficient interval allowed for refreshment thus close at hand, was brought back unexpectedly to the enemy’s station. Confounded at the sight, the Athenian crews forced themselves again on board, most of them yet without refreshment, and in the midst of murmurs and disorder.[439] On sailing out of their station, the indecisive skirmishing again commenced, and continued for some time, until at length the Athenian captains became so impatient of prolonged and exhausting fatigue, that they resolved to begin of themselves, and make the action close as well as general. Accordingly, the word of command was given, and they rowed forward to make the attack, which was cheerfully received by the Syracusans. By receiving the attack instead of making it, the latter were better enabled to insure a straightforward collision of prow against prow, excluding all circuit, backing, or evolutions, on the part of the enemy: at any rate, their steersmen contrived to realize this plan, and to crush, stave in, or damage, the forepart of many of the Athenian triremes, simply by superior weight of material and solidity on their own side. The Syracusan darters on the deck, moreover, as soon as the combat became close, were both numerous and destructive; while their little boats rowed immediately under the sides of the Athenian triremes, broke the blades of their oars, and shot darts in through the oar-holes, against the rowers within. At length the Athenians, after sustaining the combat bravely for some time, found themselves at such disadvantage, that they were compelled to give way and to seek shelter within their own station. The armed merchant-vessels which Nikias had planted before the openings in the palisade were now found of great use in checking the pursuing Syracusans; two of whose triremes, in the excitement of victory, pushed forward too near to them and were disabled by the heavy implements on board, one of them being captured with all her crew. The general victory of the Syracusans, however, was complete: seven Athenian triremes were sunk or disabled, many others were seriously damaged, and numbers of seamen either slain or made prisoners.[440]

Overjoyed with the result of this battle, which seems to have been no less skilfully planned than bravely executed, the Syracusans now felt confident of their superiority by sea as well as on land, and contemplated nothing less than the complete destruction of their enemies in the harbor. The generals were already concerting measures for renewed attack both by land and by sea, and a week or two more would probably have seen the ruin of this once triumphant besieging armament, now full of nothing but discouragement. The mere stoppage of supplies, in fact, as the Syracusans were masters of the mouth of the harbor, would be sure to starve it out in no long time, if they maintained their superiority at sea. All their calculations were suspended, however, and the hopes of the Athenians for the time revived, by the entry of Demosthenês and Eurymedon with the second armament into the Great Harbor; which seems to have taken place on the very day, or on the second day, after the recent battle.[441] So important were the consequences which turned upon that postponement of the Syracusan attack, occasioned by the recent defeat of their reinforcing army from the interior. So little did either party think, at that moment, that it would have been a mitigation of calamity to Athens, if Demosthenês had not arrived in time; if the ruin of the first armament had been actually consummated before the coming of the second!

Demosthenês, after obtaining the required reinforcements at Korkyra, had crossed the Ionian sea to the islands called Chœrades on the coast of Iapygia; where he took aboard a band of one hundred and fifty Messapian darters, through the friendly aid of the native prince Artas, with whom an ancient alliance was renewed. Passing on farther to Metapontum, already in alliance with Athens, he was there reinforced with two triremes and three hundred darters, with which addition he sailed on to Thurii. Here he found himself cordially welcomed; for the philo-Athenian party was in full ascendency, having recently got the better in a vehement dissension, and passed a sentence of banishment against their opponents.[442] They not only took a formal resolution to acknowledge the same friends and the same enemies as the Athenians, but equipped a regiment of seven hundred hoplites and three hundred darters to accompany Demosthenês, who remained there long enough to pass his troops in review and verify the completeness of each division. After having held this review on the banks of the river Sybaris, he marched his troops by land through the Thurian territory to the banks of the river Hylias which divided it from Kroton. He was here met by Krotoniate envoys, who forbade the access to their territory: upon which he marched down the river to the sea-shore, got on shipboard, and pursued his voyage southward along the coast of Italy, touching at the various towns, all except the hostile Lokri.[443]

His entry into the harbor of Syracuse,[444] accomplished in the most ostentatious trim, with decorations and musical accompaniments, was no less imposing from the magnitude of his force than critical in respect to opportunity. Taking Athenians, allies, and mercenary forces, together, he conducted seventy-three triremes, five thousand hoplites, and a large number of light troops of every description,—archers, slingers, darters, etc., with other requisites for effective operation. At the sight of such an armament, not inferior to the first which had arrived under Nikias, the Syracusans lost for a moment the confidence of their recent triumph, and were struck with dismay as well as wonder.[445] That Athens could be rash enough to spare such an armament, at a moment when the full burst of Peloponnesian hostility was reopening upon her, and when Dekeleia was in course of being fortified, was a fact out of all reasonable probability, and not to be credited unless actually seen. And probably the Syracusans, though they knew that Demosthenês was on his way, had no idea beforehand of the magnitude of his armament.

On the other hand, the hearts of the discomfited and beleaguered Athenians again revived as they welcomed their new comrades. They saw themselves again masters by land as well as by sea; and they displayed their renewed superiority by marching out of their lines forthwith and ravaging the lands near the Anapus; the Syracusans not venturing to engage in a general action, and merely watching the movement with some cavalry from the Olympieion.

But Demosthenês was not imposed upon by this delusive show of power, so soon as he had made himself master of the full state of affairs, and had compared his own means with those of the enemy. He found the army of Nikias not merely worn down with long-continued toil, and disheartened by previous defeat, but also weakened in a terrible degree by the marsh fever general towards the close of summer, in the low ground where they were encamped.[446]

He saw that the Syracusans were strong in multiplied allies, extended fortifications, a leader of great ability, and general belief that theirs was the winning cause. Moreover, he felt deeply the position of Athens at home, and her need of all her citizens against enemies within sight of her own walls. But above all, he came penetrated with the deplorable effects which had resulted from the mistake of Nikias, in wasting irreparably so much precious time, and frittering away the first terror-striking impression of his splendid armament. All these considerations determined Demosthenês to act, without a moment’s delay and while the impression produced by his arrival was yet unimpaired, and to aim one great and decisive blow, such as might, if successful, make the conquest of Syracuse again probable. If this should fail, he resolved to abandon the whole enterprise, and return home with his armament forthwith.[447]

By means of the Athenian lines, he had possession of the southernmost portion of the slope of Epipolæ. But all along that slope from east to west, immediately in front or to the north of his position, stretched the counter-wall built by the Syracusans; beginning at the city wall on the lowest ground, and reaching up first in a northwesterly, next in a westerly direction, until it joined the fort on the upper ground near the cliff, where the road from Euryalus down to Syracuse passed. The Syracusans, as defenders, were on the north side of this counter-wall; he and the Athenians on the south side. It was a complete bar to his progress, nor could he stir a step without making himself master of it: towards which end there were only two possible means,—either to storm it in front, or to turn it from its western extremity by marching round up to the Euryalus. He began by trying the first method; but the wall was abundantly manned and vigorously defended; his battering machines were all burnt or disqualified, and every attempt which he made was completely repulsed.[448] There then remained only the second method, to turn the wall, ascending by circuitous roads to the heights of Euryalus behind it, and then attacking the fort in which it terminated.

But the march necessary for this purpose, first, up the valley of the Anapus, visible from the Syracusan posts above; next, ascending to the Euryalus by a narrow and winding path, was so difficult, that even Demosthenês, naturally sanguine, despaired of being able to force his way up in the daylight, against an enemy seeing the attack. He was therefore constrained to attempt a night-surprise, for which, Nikias and his other colleagues consenting, he accordingly made preparations on the largest and most effective scale. He took the command himself, along with Menander and Eurymedon (Nikias being left to command within the lines),[449] conducting hoplites and light troops, together with masons and carpenters, and all other matters necessary for establishing a fortified post; lastly, giving orders that every man should carry with him provisions for five days.

Fortune so far favored him, that not only all these preliminary arrangements, but even his march itself, was accomplished without any suspicion of the enemy. At the beginning of a moonlight night, he quitted the lines, moved along the low ground on the left bank of the Anapus and parallel to that river for a considerable distance, then following various roads to the right, arrived at the Euryalus, or highest pitch of Epipolæ, where he found himself in the same track by which the Athenians in coming from Katana a year and a half before—and Gylippus in coming from the interior of the island about ten months before—had passed, in order to get to the slope of Epipolæ above Syracuse. He reached, without being discovered, the extreme Syracusan fort on the high ground, assailed it completely by surprise, and captured it after a feeble resistance. Some of the garrison within it were slain; but the greater part escaped, and ran to give the alarm to the three fortified camps of Syracusans and allies, which were placed one below another behind the long continuous wall,[450] on the declivity of Epipolæ, as well as to a chosen regiment of six hundred Syracusan hoplites under Hermokratês,[451] who formed a night-watch, or bivouac. This regiment hastened up to the rescue, but Demosthenês and the Athenian vanguard charging impetuously forward, drove them back in disorder upon the fortified positions in their rear. Even Gylippus and the Syracusan troops advancing upwards out of these positions, were at first carried back by the same retreating movement.

So far the enterprise of Demosthenês had been successful beyond all reasonable hope. He was master not only of the outer fort of the Syracusan position, but also of the extremity of their counter-wall which rested upon that fort; the counter-wall was no longer defensible, now that he had got on the north or Syracusan side of it, so that the men on the parapet, where it joined the fort, made no resistance, and fled. Some of the Athenians even began to tear down the parapets, and demolish this part of the counter-wall, an operation of extreme importance, since it would have opened to Demosthenês a communication with the southern side of the counter-wall, leading directly towards the Athenian lines on Epipolæ. At any rate, his plan of turning the counter-wall was already carried, if he could only have maintained himself in his actual position, even without advancing farther, and if he could have demolished two or three hundred yards of the upper extremity of the wall now in his power. Whether it would have been possible for him to maintain himself without farther advance, until day broke, and thus avoid the unknown perils of a night-battle, we cannot say. But both he and his men, too much flushed with success to think of halting, hastened forward to complete their victory, and to prevent the disordered Syracusans from again recovering a firm array. Unfortunately, however, their ardor of pursuit—as it constantly happened with Grecian hoplites—disturbed the regularity of their own ranks, so that they were not in condition to stand the shock of the Bœotian hoplites, just emerged from their position, and marching up in steady and excellent order to the scene of action. The Bœotians charged them, and after a short resistance, broke them completely, forcing them to take flight. The fugitives of the van were thus driven back upon their own comrades advancing from behind, still under the impression of success, ignorant of what had passed in front, and themselves urged on by the fresh troops closing up in their rear.

In this manner the whole army presently became one scene of clamor and confusion wherein there was neither command nor obedience, nor could any one discern what was passing. The light of the moon rendered objects and figures generally visible, without being sufficient to discriminate friend from foe. The beaten Athenians, thrown back upon their comrades, were in many cases mistaken for enemies, and slain. The Syracusans and Bœotians, shouting aloud and pursuing their advantage, became intermingled with the foremost Athenians, and both armies thus grouped into knots which only distinguished each other by mutual demand of the watchword. This test also soon failed, since each party got acquainted with the watchword of the other, especially that of the Athenians, among whom the confusion was the greatest, became well known to the Syracusans, who kept together in larger parties. Above all, the effect of the pæan or war-shout on both sides was remarkable. The Dorians in the Athenian army—from Argos, Korkyra, and other places—raised a pæan not distinguishable from that of the Syracusans; accordingly, their shout struck terror into the Athenians themselves, who fancied that they had enemies in their own rear and centre. Such disorder and panic presently ended in a general flight. The Athenians hurried back by the same roads which they had ascended; but these roads were found too narrow for terrified fugitives, and many of them threw away their arms in order to scramble or jump down the cliffs, in which most of them perished. Even of those who safely effected their descent into the plain below, many—especially the new-comers belonging to the armament of Demosthenês—lost their way through ignorance, and were cut off the next day by the Syracusan horse. With terrible loss of numbers, and broken spirit, the Athenians at length found shelter within their own lines. Their loss of arms was even greater than that of men, from the throwing away of shields by those soldiers who leaped the cliff.[452]

The overjoyed Syracusans erected two trophies, one upon the road to Epipolæ, the other upon the exact and critical spot where the Bœotians had first withstood and first repelled the enemy. By this unexpected and overwhelming victory, their feelings were restored to the same pitch of confidence which had animated them before the arrival of Demosthenês. Again now masters of the field, they again indulged the hope of storming the Athenian lines and destroying the armament; to which end, however, it was thought necessary to obtain additional reinforcements, and Gylippus went in person with this commission to the various cities of Sicily, while Sikanus with fifteen triremes was despatched to Agrigentum, then understood to be wavering, and in a political crisis.[453]

During this absence of Gylippus, the Athenian generals were left to mourn the recent reverse, and to discuss the exigencies of their untoward position. The whole armament was now full of discouragement and weariness; impatient to escape from a scene where fever daily thinned their numbers, and where they seemed destined to nothing but dishonor. Such painful evidences of increasing disorganization only made Demosthenês more strenuous in enforcing the resolution which he had taken before the attack on Epipolæ. He had done his best to strike one decisive blow; the chances of war had turned out against him, and inflicted a humiliating defeat; he now therefore insisted on relinquishing the whole enterprise and returning home forthwith. The season was yet favorable for the voyage (it seems to have been the beginning of August), while the triremes recently brought, as yet unused, rendered them masters at sea for the present. It was idle, he added, to waste more time and money in staying to carry on war against Syracuse, which they could not now hope to subdue, especially when Athens had so much need of them all at home, against the garrison of Dekeleia.[454]

This proposition, though espoused and seconded by Eurymedon, was peremptorily opposed by Nikias; who contended, first, that their present distress and the unpromising chances for the future, though he admitted the full reality of both, ought not nevertheless to be publicly proclaimed. A formal resolution to retire, passed in the presence of so many persons, would inevitably become known to the enemy, and therefore could never be executed with silence and secrecy,[455] as such a resolution ought to be. But farthermore, he (Nikias) took a decided objection to the resolution itself. He would never consent to carry back the armament, without specific authority from home to do so. Sure he was, that the Athenian people would never tolerate such a proceeding. When submitted to the public assembly at home, the conduct of the generals would be judged, not by persons who had been at Syracuse and cognizant of the actual facts, but by hearers who would learn all that they knew from the artful speeches of criminative orators. Even the citizens actually serving, though now loud in cries of suffering, and impatient to get home, would alter their tone when they were safe in the public assembly; and would turn round to denounce their generals as having been bribed to bring away the army. Speaking his own personal feelings, he knew too well the tempers of his countrymen to expose himself to the danger of thus perishing under a charge alike unmerited and disgraceful. Sooner would he incur any extremity of risk from the enemy.[456] It must be recollected too, he added, that if their affairs were now bad, those of Syracuse were as bad, and even worse. For more than a year, the war had been imposing upon the Syracusans a ruinous cost, in subsistence for foreign allies as well as in keeping up outlying posts; so that they had already spent two thousand talents, besides heavy debts contracted and not paid. They could not continue in this course longer; yet the suspension of their payments would at once alienate their allies, and leave them helpless. The cost of the war—to which Demosthenês had alluded as a reason for returning home—could be much better borne by Athens; while a little farther pressure would utterly break down the Syracusans. He (Nikias) therefore advised to remain where they were and continue the siege;[457] the more so, as their fleet had now become unquestionably the superior.

Both Demosthenês and Eurymedon protested in the strongest language against the proposition of Nikias. Especially they treated the plan of remaining in the Great Harbor as fraught with ruin, and insisted, at the very least, on quitting this position without a moment’s delay. Even admitting, for argument, the scruples of Nikias against abandoning the Syracusan war without formal authority from home, they still urged an immediate transfer of their camp from the Great Harbor to Thapsus or Katana. At either of these stations they could prosecute operations against Syracuse, with all the advantage of a wider range of country for supplies, a healthier spot, and above all, of an open sea, which was absolutely indispensable to the naval tactics of Athenians; escaping from that narrow basin which condemned them to inferiority even on their own proper element. At all events to remove, and remove forthwith, out of the Great Harbor, such was the pressing requisition of Demosthenês and Eurymedon.[458]

But even to the modified motion of transferring the actual position to Thapsus or Katana, Nikias refused to consent. He insisted on remaining as they were; and it appears that Menander and Euthydemus[459]—colleagues named by the assembly at home, before the departure of the second armament—must have voted under the influence of his authority; whereby the majority became on his side. Nothing less than being in a minority, probably, would have induced Demosthenês and Eurymedon to submit, on a point of such transcendent importance.

It was thus that the Athenian armament remained without quitting the harbor, yet apparently quite inactive, during a period which cannot have been less than between three weeks and a month, until Gylippus returned to Syracuse with fresh reinforcements. Throughout the army, hope of success appears to have vanished, while anxiety for return had become general. The opinions of Demosthenês and Eurymedon were doubtless well known, and orders for retreat were expected, but never came. Nikias obstinately refused to give them, during the whole of this fatal interval; which plunged the army into the abyss of ruin, instead of mere failure in their aggressive enterprise.

So unaccountable did such obstinacy appear, that many persons gave Nikias credit for knowing more than he chose to reveal. Even Thucydidês thinks that he was misled by that party in Syracuse with whom he had always kept up a secret correspondence, seemingly apart from his colleagues, and who still urged him, by special messages, not to go away; assuring him that Syracuse could not possibly go on longer. Without fully trusting these intimations, he could not bring himself to act against them; and he therefore hung back from day to day, and refused to pronounce the decisive word.[460]

Nothing throughout the whole career of Nikias is so inexplicable as his guilty fatuity—for we can call it by no lighter name, seeing that it involved all the brave men around him in one common ruin with himself—at the present critical juncture. How can we suppose him to have really believed that the Syracusans, now in the flood-tide of success, and when Gylippus was gone forth to procure additional forces, would break down and be unable to carry on the war? Childish as such credulity seems, we are nevertheless compelled to admit it as real, to such an extent as to counterbalance all the pressing motives for departure, motives enforced by discerning colleagues as well as by the complaints of the army, and brought home to his own observation by the experience of the late naval defeat. At any rate, it served as an excuse for that fatal weakness of his character which made him incapable of taking resolutions founded on prospective calculations, and chained him to his actual position until he was driven to act by imminent necessity.

But we discern on the present occasion another motive, which counts for much in dictating his hesitation. The other generals think with satisfaction of going back to their country and rescuing the force which yet remained, even under circumstances of disappointment and failure. Not so Nikias: he knows too well the reception which he had deserved, and which might possibly be in store for him. Avowedly, indeed, he anticipates reproach from the Athenians against the generals, but only unmerited reproach, on the special ground of bringing away the army without orders from home; adding some harsh criticisms upon the injustice of the popular judgment and the perfidy of his own soldiers. But in the first place, we may remark, that Demosthenês and Eurymedon, though as much responsible as he was for this decision, had no such fear of popular injustice; or, if they had, saw clearly that the obligation of braving it was here imperative. And in the next place, no man ever had so little reason to complain of the popular judgment as Nikias. The mistakes of the people in regard to him had always been those of indulgence, over-esteem, and over-constancy. But Nikias foresaw too well that he would have more to answer for at Athens than the simple fact of sanctioning retreat under existing circumstances. He could not but remember the pride and sanguine hopes under which he had originally conducted the expedition out of Peiræus, contrasted with the miserable sequel and ignominious close, even if the account had been now closed, without worse. He could not but be conscious, more or less, how much of all this was owing to his own misjudgment; and under such impressions, the idea of meeting the free criticisms and scrutiny of his fellow-citizens—even putting aside the chance of judicial trial—must have been insupportably humiliating. To Nikias,—a perfectly brave man, and suffering withal under an incurable disease,—life at Athens had neither charm nor honor left. Hence, as much as from any other reason, he was induced to withhold the order for departure; clinging to the hope that some unforeseen boon of fortune might yet turn up, and yielding to the idlest delusions from correspondents in the interior of Syracuse.[461]

Nearly a month after the night-battle on Epipolæ,[462] Gylippus and Sikanus both returned to Syracuse. The latter had been unsuccessful at Agrigentum, where the philo-Syracusan party had been sent into banishment before his arrival; but Gylippus brought with him a considerable force of Sicilian Greeks, together with those Peloponnesian hoplites who had started from Cape Tænarus in the early spring, and who had made their way from Kyrênê first along the coast of Africa, and then across to Selinus. Such increase of strength immediately determined the Syracusans to resume the aggressive both by land and by sea. In the Athenians, as they saw the new allies marching in over Epipolæ, it produced a deeper despondency, combined with bitter regret that they had not adopted the proposition of departing immediately after the battle of Epipolæ, when Demosthenês first proposed it. The late interval of lingering hopeless inaction with continued sickness, had farther weakened their strength, and Demosthenês now again pressed the resolution for immediate departure. Whatever fancies Nikias may have indulged about Syracusan embarrassments, were dissipated by the arrival of Gylippus; nor did he venture to persist in his former peremptory opposition, though even now he seems to have assented against his own conviction.[463] He however insisted, with good reason, that no formal or public vote should be taken on the occasion, but that the order should be circulated through the camp, as privately as possible, to be ready for departure at a given signal. Intimation was sent to Katana that the armament was on the point of coming away, with orders to forward no farther supplies.[464]

This plan was proceeding successfully: the ships were made ready, much of the property of the army had already been conveyed aboard without awakening the suspicion of the enemy, the signal would have been hoisted on the ensuing morning, and within a few hours this fated armament would have found itself clear of the harbor, with comparatively small loss,[465] when the gods themselves—I speak in the language and feelings of the Athenian camp—interfered to forbid its departure. On the very night before, the 27th August, 413 B.C., which was full moon, the moon was eclipsed. Such a portent, impressive to the Athenians at all times, was doubly so under their present despondency, and many of them construed it as a divine prohibition against departure until a certain time should have elapsed, with expiatory ceremonies to take off the effect. They made known their wish for postponement to Nikias and his colleagues; but their interference was superfluous, for Nikias himself was more deeply affected than any one else. He consulted the prophets, who declared that the army ought not to decamp until thrice nine days, a full circle of the moon, should have passed over.[466] And Nikias took upon himself to announce, that until after the interval indicated by them, he would not permit even any discussion or proposition on the subject.

The decision of the prophets, which Nikias thus made his own, was a sentence of death to the Athenian army, yet it went along with the general feeling, and was obeyed without hesitation. Even Demosthenês, though if he had commanded alone, he might have tried to overrule it, found himself compelled to yield. Yet according to Philochorus, himself a professional diviner, skilful in construing the religious meaning of events, it was a decision decidedly wrong; that is, wrong according to the canonical principles of divination. To men planning escape, or any other operation requiring silence and secrecy, an eclipse of the moon, as hiding light and producing darkness, was, he affirmed, an encouraging sign, and ought to have made the Athenians even more willing and forward in quitting the harbor. We are told, too, that Nikias had recently lost by death Stilbidês, the ablest prophet in his service, and that he was thus forced to have recourse to prophets of inferior ability.[467] His piety left no means untried of appeasing the gods, by prayer, sacrifice, and expiatory ceremonies, continued until the necessity of actual conflict arrived.[468]

The impediment thus finally and irreparably intercepting the Athenian departure, was the direct, though unintended, consequence of the delay previously caused by Nikias. We cannot doubt, however, that, when the eclipse first happened, he regarded it as a sign confirmatory of the opinion which he had himself before delivered, and that he congratulated himself upon having so long resisted the proposition for going away. Let us add, that all those Athenians who were predisposed to look upon eclipses as signs from heaven of calamity about to come, would find themselves strengthened in that belief by the unparalleled woes even now impending over this unhappy army.

What interpretation the Syracusans, confident and victorious, put on the eclipse, we are not told. But they knew well how to interpret the fact, which speedily came to their knowledge, that the Athenians had fully resolved to make a furtive escape, and had only been prevented by the eclipse. Such a resolution, amounting to an unequivocal confession of helplessness, emboldened the Syracusans yet farther, to crush them as they were in the harbor, and never to permit them to occupy even any other post in Sicily. Accordingly, Gylippus caused his triremes to be manned and practised for several days: he then drew out his land-force, and made a demonstration of no great significance against the Athenian lines. On the morrow, he brought out all his forces, both land and naval; with the former of which he beset the Athenian lines, while the fleet, seventy-six triremes in number, was directed to sail up to the Athenian naval station. The Athenian fleet, eighty-six triremes strong, sailed out to meet it, and a close, general, and desperate action took place. The fortune of Athens had fled. The Syracusans first beat the centre division of the Athenians; next, the right division under Eurymedon, who in attempting an evolution to outflank the enemy’s left, forgot those narrow limits of the harbor which were at every turn the ruin of the Athenian mariner, neared the land too much, and was pinned up against it, in the recess of Daskon, by the vigorous attack of the Syracusans. He was here slain, and his division destroyed: successively, the entire Athenian fleet was beaten and driven ashore.

Few of the defeated ships could get into their own station. Most of them were forced ashore or grounded on points without those limits; upon which Gylippus marched down his land-force to the water’s edge, in order to prevent the retreat of the crews as well as to assist the Syracusan seamen in hauling off the ships as prizes. His march, however, was so hurried and disorderly, that the Tyrrhenian troops, on guard at the flank of the Athenian station, sallied out against them as they approached, beat the foremost of them, and drove them away from the shore into the marsh called Lysimeleia. More Syracusan troops came to their aid; but the Athenians also, anxious above all things for the protection of their ships, came forth in greater numbers; and a general battle ensued in which the latter were victorious. Though they did not inflict much loss upon the enemy, yet they saved most of their own triremes which had been driven ashore, together with the crews, and carried them into the naval station. Except for this success on land, the entire Athenian fleet would have been destroyed: as it was, the defeat was still complete, and eighteen triremes were lost, all their crews being slain. This was probably the division of Eurymedon, which having been driven ashore in the recess of Daskon, was too far off from the Athenian station to receive any land assistance. As the Athenians were hauling in their disabled triremes, the Syracusans made a last effort to destroy them by means of a fireship, for which the wind happened to be favorable. But the Athenians found means to prevent her approach, and to extinguish the flames.[469]

Here was a complete victory gained over Athens on her own element, gained with inferior numbers, gained even over the fresh and yet formidable fleet recently brought by Demosthenês. It told but too plainly on which side the superiority now lay, how well the Syracusans had organized their naval strength for the specialties of their own harbor, how ruinous had been the folly of Nikias in retaining his excellent seamen imprisoned within that petty and unwholesome lake, where land and water alike did the work of their enemies. It not only disheartened the Athenians, but belied all their past experience, and utterly confounded them. Sickness of the whole enterprise, and repentance for having undertaken it, now became uppermost in their minds: yet it is remarkable that we hear of no complaints against Nikias separately.[470] But repentance came too late. The Syracusans, fully alive to the importance of their victory, sailed round the harbor in triumph as again their own,[471] and already looked on the enemy within it as their prisoners. They determined to close up and guard the mouth of it, from Plemmyrium to Ortygia, so as to leave no farther liberty of exit.

Nor were they insensible how vastly the scope of the contest was now widened, and the value of the stake before them enhanced. It was not merely to rescue their own city from siege, nor even to repel and destroy the besieging army, that they were now contending. It was to extinguish the entire power of Athens, and liberate the half of Greece from dependence; for Athens could never be expected to survive so terrific a loss as that of the entire double armament before Syracuse.[472] The Syracusans exulted in the thought that this great achievement would be theirs, that their city was the field, and their navy the chief instrument of victory: a lasting source of glory to them, not merely in the eyes of contemporaries, but even in those of posterity. Their pride swelled when they reflected on the Pan-Hellenic importance which the siege of Syracuse had now acquired, and when they counted up the number and variety of Greek warriors who were now fighting, on one side or the other, between Euryalus and Plemmyrium. With the exception of the great struggle between Athens and the Peloponnesian confederacy, never before had combatants so many and so miscellaneous been engaged under the same banners. Greeks, continental and insular, Ionic, Doric, and Æolic, autonomous and dependent, volunteers and mercenaries, from Miletus and Chios in the east to Selinus in the west, were all here to be found; and not merely Greeks, but also the barbaric Sikels, Egestæans, Tyrrhenians, and Iapygians. If the Lacædemonians, Corinthians, and Bœotians were fighting on the side of Syracuse, the Argeians and Mantineians, not to mention the great insular cities, stood in arms against her. The jumble of kinship among the combatants on both sides, as well as the cross action of different local antipathies, is put in lively antithesis by Thucydidês.[473] But amidst so vast an assembled number, of which they were the chiefs, the paymasters, and the centre of combination, the Syracusans might well feel a sense of personal aggrandizement, and a consciousness of the great blow which they were about to strike, sufficient to exalt them for the time above the level even of their great Dorian chiefs in Peloponnesus.

It was their first operation, occupying three days, to close up the mouth of the Great Harbor, which was nearly one mile broad, with vessels of every description, triremes, traders, boats, etc., anchored in an oblique direction, and chained together.[474] They at the same time prepared their naval force with redoubled zeal for the desperate struggle which they knew to be coming. They then awaited the efforts of the Athenians, who watched their proceedings with sadness and anxiety.

Nikias and his colleagues called together the principal officers to deliberate what was to be done. As they had few provisions remaining, and had counter-ordered their farther supplies, some instant and desperate effort was indispensable; and the only point in debate was, whether they should burn their fleet and retire by land, or make a fresh maritime exertion to break out of the harbor. Such had been the impression left by the recent sea-fight, that many in the camp leaned to the former scheme.[475] But the generals resolved upon first trying the latter, and exhausted all their combinations to give to it the greatest possible effect. They now evacuated the upper portion of their lines, both on the higher ground of Epipolæ, and even on the lower ground, such portion as was nearest to the southern cliff; confining themselves to a limited fortified space close to the shore, just adequate for their sick, their wounded, and their stores; in order to spare the necessity for a large garrison to defend them, and thus leave nearly their whole force disposable for sea-service. They then made ready every trireme in the station, which could be rendered ever so imperfectly seaworthy, constraining every fit man to serve aboard them, without distinction of age, rank, or country. The triremes were manned with double crews of soldiers, hoplites as well as bowmen and darters, the latter mostly Akarnanians; while the hoplites, stationed at the prow with orders to board the enemy as quickly as possible, were furnished with grappling-irons to detain the enemy’s ship immediately after the moment of collision, in order that it might not be withdrawn and the collision repeated, with all its injurious effects arising from the strength and massiveness of the Syracusan epôtids. The best consultation was held with the steersmen as to arrangement and manœuvres of every trireme, nor was any precaution omitted which the scanty means at hand allowed. In the well-known impossibility of obtaining new provisions, every man was anxious to hurry on the struggle.[476] But Nikias, as he mustered them on the shore immediately before going aboard, saw but too plainly that it was the mere stress of desperation which impelled them; that the elasticity, the disciplined confidence, the maritime pride, habitual to the Athenians on shipboard, was extinct, or dimly and faintly burning.

He did his best to revive them, by exhortations unusually emphatic and impressive. “Recollect (he said) that you too, not less than the Syracusans, are now fighting for your own safety and for your country; for it is only by victory in the coming struggle that any of you can ever hope to see his country again. Yield not to despair like raw recruits after a first defeat; you, Athenians and allies, familiar with the unexpected revolutions of war, will hope now for the fair turn of fortune, and fight with a spirit worthy of the great force which you see here around you. We generals have now made effective provision against our two great disadvantages, the narrow circuit of the harbor, and the thickness of the enemy’s prows.[477] Sad as the necessity is, we have thrown aside all our Athenian skill and tactics, and have prepared to fight under the conditions forced upon us by the enemy, a land-battle on shipboard.[478] It will be for you to conquer in this last desperate struggle, where there is no friendly shore to receive you if you give way. You, hoplites on the deck, as soon as you have the enemy’s trireme in contact, keep him fast, and relax not until you have swept away his hoplites and mastered his deck. You, seamen and rowers, must yet keep up your courage, in spite of this sad failure in our means, and subversion of our tactics. You are better defended on deck above, and you have more triremes to help you, than in the recent defeat. Such of you, as are not Athenian citizens, I entreat to recollect the valuable privileges which you have hitherto enjoyed from serving in the navy of Athens. Though not really citizens, you have been reputed and treated as such; you have acquired our dialect, you have copied our habits, and have thus enjoyed the admiration, the imposing station, and the security, arising from our great empire.[479] Partaking as you do freely in the benefits of that empire, do not now betray it to these Sicilians and Corinthians whom you have so often beaten. For such of you as are Athenians, I again remind you that Athens has neither fresh triremes, nor fresh hoplites, to replace those now here. Unless you are now victorious, her enemies near home will find her defenceless; and our countrymen there will become slaves to Sparta, as you will to Syracuse. Recollect, every man of you, that you now going aboard here are the all of Athens,—her hoplites, her ships, her entire remaining city, and her splendid name.[480] Bear up then and conquer, every man with his best mettle, in this one last struggle, for Athens as well as yourselves, and on an occasion which will never return.”