At the time of Histiæus’ departure, the Ionians were living in expectation of the renewal of the attack upon them. By the autumn of 495, reinforcements from the east must have begun to arrive at Sardes. But the attack does not seem to follow in that year, in so far as any calculation can be made from the known date of the subsequent fall of Miletus.38 It appears to have been in the early spring of 494 that the Persians collected all their available troops for an attack on Miletus, “considering the other cities to be of less account.” So much for the Greek cities. But what of Caria? THE FATE OF CARIA? That land practically disappears from the story of the revolt, after dealing Persia the severest blow she suffered during all the years of it.

Herodotus does not tell the tale of its reduction. All that he says is that, “after the fall of Miletus [in 494], the Persians immediately got possession of Caria, some of the cities surrendering voluntarily, others being brought to submission by force.”

But the absence of any record of Carian participation in the revolt during the long period intervening between the Persian defeat near Pedasos and the fall of Miletus, suggests the suspicion that these “voluntary surrenders” are not in all cases attributable to the time following the fall of that city.

The people of that very town Pedasos are, in the settlement of affairs made after the capture of Miletus, granted by the Persians a portion of the late Milesian territory. It would seem as if Caria, partially, at any rate, made terms with her old masters; as if Artaphernes made a successful trial of diplomacy in the critical time which succeeded the great defeat, and detached Caria from the cause of the insurgents by offering her a share in the spoils of her allies. This hypothesis explains, at any rate, two features in the history of this time which would otherwise be inexplicable, namely, the apparent non-participation of Caria in the years following the Persian defeat, and the unexpected grant made by the Persians to a Carian city.

Whatever may be the truth with regard to Caria, it is plain that she was a negligible quantity at the time when the great attack on Miletus was planned.

The attack was to be of a twofold character, by sea as well as land. The naval forces of Persia had already suffered two severe defeats in the course of the war. On these two occasions the Phœnicians had proved inferior to the Ionians on the sea. H. vi. 6. But the fleet in the present instance was drawn not merely from Phœnicia, but also from Cilicia and Egypt, and even from that Cyprus which, but two short years before, had fought as an ally of the Ionians. Both sides regarded this great effort as the crisis of the struggle.

Delegates from the Ionian towns met at the pan-Ionian sanctuary of Poseidon near Mykale, to concert measures to meet the great attack. Their decision was a somewhat remarkable one. They determined to confine the operations on land to the defence of the actual walls of Miletus, which should be conducted by the Milesians themselves; but to mobilize the whole of their available navy and to station it at Ladé, a small island off the town of Miletus.

It was a great misfortune to the Ionian cause at this time that the war operations of the League were not directed by one man of ability. There may have been able men in the pan-Ionian Council; but in war such a Council is apt to err on the side of caution, and to adopt a purely defensive attitude, when the offensive would be the best defence. The main features of the situation are sufficiently clear.

The real Ionian base was on the sea; the Persian on the land. Each side, in order to strike a decisive blow at the other, must strike on that element on which the other was strong. This Persia did; and this the Ionian Greeks failed to do in this campaign. The simple result was that the Persian stood to win, the Ionian to lose.

The story of Ladé is one of the very few sections of the history of the revolt in which Herodotus attempts anything of the nature of a detailed narrative. It bears all the traces of a compilation from various sources. It opens with a list of the fleet, giving not merely the numbers of the contingents, but also the battle array. Chronologically this latter feature is manifestly out of place, inasmuch as the battle was fought some time after the gathering of the fleet.

The story of the events in Ladé itself prior to the battle is noticeable for two elements which can hardly be attributed to the same source. The despicable Ionian tyrant is made to appear more despicable; and the Ionian insurgents are presented in a most unfavourable light.

The list of ships contributed by the various States is as follows:⁠—

The Persian fleet is said to have numbered 600.

The absence of Ephesus from the Greek list is noticeable. There are other absentees of less note. If the contingent of Miletus, the object of attack, be omitted, the number of ships supplied by the states on the mainland amounts to only 43.

The smallness of this number is so remarkable that it cannot be passed over without comment. One of two things must have occurred. Either some of the Ionian towns had been reduced since 496, and the story of their reduction is part of the lost records of 495; or the resistance was weakening, and the Greek cities were withdrawing one by one from the struggle, after making their own terms with the Persian. Of the two conjectures, the latter is, perhaps, the more probable, as it would in a way justify the impression of pusillanimity which Herodotus gives to the revolt, an impression which, though on the whole unjustifiable, must have rested on some partial basis. The tradition of the last act in the great tragedy, as preserved in these renegade cities, was sure to be sinister; and from them, or some one of them, Herodotus may have drawn information which contributed to the formation of his own opinions.

The magnitude of the Ionian fleet which gathered at Ladé is in itself sufficient evidence of the determination of the insurgents to concentrate their effort on the sea. The Persian fleet was more than half again as numerous; but it had already suffered two severe defeats off Pamphylia and off Cyprus, and it showed a manifest inclination to avoid a conflict. Herodotus does not mention the station which it took up; but it was presumably somewhere near Miletus, because some of the ex-tyrants of the Greek cities who were aboard entered, at the instigation of the Persians, into communication with their late subjects, with intent to detach some of the contingents from the formidable armada. For the moment these intrigues met with no success.

Herodotus is evidently of opinion that even this resistance to a proposal of treachery was an instance of the wrong-headedness39 which the Ionians displayed throughout the revolt.

It is very difficult to form a judgment as to the amount of historical truth which is contained in the tale of the events which intervened between this time and the actual battle. It is manifestly told with the intention of presenting the Ionians in the worst possible light. This people, which had already in the course of the revolt inflicted two defeats by sea upon the Persians, is now represented as having neither the power nor the will to practise the tactics of a sea-fight.

After the fleet had gathered at Ladé the Ionians held meetings on land, at which the situation was discussed. Among others who spoke was Dionysios, who commanded the small Phokæan contingent.

To this advice the Ionians listened, and placed themselves for the time being at his disposal. He accordingly practised them in manœuvres every day, and especially in the manœuvre of cutting the line, and kept them busy from morning to night. This they endured for seven days. After that they refused to carry out the orders of this “vagabond Phokæan, who provided only three ships.” CONDEMNATION OF THE IONIANS. The language attributed to them is that of men who, accustomed to lead a life of luxury, find themselves in a situation of self-imposed hardship, which they have not the courage to face. After five years of resistance to the greatest power of their time, they are damned as mere “boulevardiers” on the battle-field, “men who had no experience of such hardships,” lacking the very elements of courageous perseverance. The condemnation does not fall on the population of those cities which are not represented in this last great struggle for Ionian freedom, but on those who fought to the bitter end. The extraordinary feature of the whole matter is that Herodotus should have allowed such a tale to stand side by side with his narrative of the battle, in which it appears that part of the Ionian fleet fought with the most desperate courage.

The “Dionysios” story throws considerable light on the nature of the sources for Herodotus’ history of the revolt. The personal references to Dionysios may, like the subsequent reference to him,40 be suggested by information as to his exploits obtained by the author in some Greek city of Italy. But the intent of the whole story is manifest. It provides an excuse for the conduct of those Samians who deserted in the battle, to the tale of which it serves as a preface. It is not merely a story of Samian origin, but a version to which currency was given by certain persons in Samos, who found it necessary to invent some defence for an act of cowardice for which the facts themselves provided no excuse.41

The introduction into the story of what is almost certainly an anachronism, the manœuvre of “cutting the line,” is, however, a graphic touch of the historian’s own, suggested to him, like the reference to Kythera in the Persian debate after Thermopylæ, by the incidents of the Peloponnesian war.

It is a strange tendency this, which the father of history now and again displays, to introduce into his narrative a page or two of matter which is conspicuously refuted by his general history. He is far too honest to distort the story of events in accordance with his own views; but he again and again, especially in the case of the revolt, yields to the temptation of introducing evidence from manifestly partial and contaminated sources, simply because it happens to agree with his own judgment on the general course of events.

Of the origin of the story of the actual battle there can be but little question. It is also a Samian version. But, even so, it is not simple in its elements. The behaviour of the two sections of the Samian contingent in the battle rendered it certain that two very different versions of the fight would survive in Samos,—one of them the creation of those who were faithless, and the other that of those who were faithful to the Ionian cause. Herodotus’ account contains features borrowed from them both. This oft-repeated characteristic of his history is in no sense deplorable. It is essentially the characteristic of his work which renders that work most valuable at the present day, in that, by reason of it, the contemporary evidence is preserved in the form in which he found it.

The truth with regard to the state of affairs in the Ionian fleet before Ladé is, in all probability, that counsels were greatly divided on the details of the course to be pursued in the battle which was imminent. On this occasion, as on previous occasions, the lack of a single directing mind made itself felt. There was no one in supreme command. Even a Eurybiades, not gifted with the ability to devise a great design, but possessed of a common-sense judgment which would have enabled him to decide between the plans suggested by others, might have saved the situation.

This lack of leadership, and consequent lack of unanimity is the only excuse which can be brought forward for the doubly treacherous conduct of the Samians. BATTLE OF LADÉ. Herodotus admits all the evidence for their defence; but he does not exclude the damning evidence against them. This is present not merely in the matter but in the form of the history of the battle. Despite the fact that the grounds of their apology were in accord with his own general views, he is not wholly convinced that they constituted a valid excuse for their conduct on the present occasion.

The Æakes mentioned was one of the hated Ionian tyrants whom Aristagoras had deposed at the beginning of the revolt. Herodotus does not comment on his connection with the matter; but it is certain that the part which he played in it would weigh heavily against the Samian traitors in the balance of the historian’s judgment on their act.

In giving his account of the battle he suffers, as he himself says, from a lack of reliable information.42 Matter is, however, introduced which shows plainly that he had heard at Samos a version of the story told from a point of view directly opposed to that of the tale of events in the previous chapters, and that this version was supported by inscriptional evidence existent in his own day.

Such of their vessels as were in a condition to do so, made off to Chios; those which were seriously damaged were run ashore at Mykale, whence their crews proceeded to make their way homeward by land. On entering Ephesian territory at night, however, they chanced upon the women celebrating the Thesmophoria, and, being mistaken for robbers, were attacked by the Ephesians, and some of them, at least, were killed.

This last incident may admit of various explanations; and it may be doubted whether the action of the Ephesians was wholly due to error. The attitude of this city at this time excites suspicion.

But the rest of the account of the battle bears the impress of truth. Anti-Ionian or not, Herodotus cannot withhold his admiration from those who fought to the bitter end.

One detail may be inferred from its general incidents. The ease with which both the Samians and the other allies got away, and with which the Chians retreated after the fight, suggests that the Greek fleet at the beginning of the battle was north of the Persian.

Dionysius of Phokæa is the only hero of it whose name has come down in story. That old sea-dog, the very prototype of the seamen of the days of Elizabeth, had no mind to return to Phokæa and share the slavery of whatever small remnant of its inhabitants had either remained in their old home, or had returned thither from Corsica. With his three ships he had, in the course of the fight, taken three of the enemy’s vessels; and now he sailed off, not in any cowardly flight, but with the determination to “singe the King of Persia’s beard” by an unexpected raid into his home waters. To Phœnicia he went, and there fell in with certain merchant ships, which he disabled and plundered; and then, laden with spoil, set sail for Sicily, where he set up as a pirate at the expense of the Carthaginian and Tyrrhenian traders of those seas. Doubtless the Greek cities of Italy appreciated to the full so valuable an ally in trade competition, and from them Herodotus learnt the history of the last days of the fierce old adventurer. The world is poorer in that further details of his life have not survived. Would that some Sicilian writer had taken down his story from his own lips! It might have been one of the greatest tales of adventure in literature.

There must have been many another who fought a good fight for liberty. They had the misfortune to have their deeds recorded by men less brave than they. But even amid the intense partiality of the history of the time the truth shines forth that, owing to the courage which they displayed, the story of the revolt is one of the glorious pages in the history of the Hellenic race. The fault of those men who persevered to the bitter end was not lack of courage, but lack of the perception that nature had so placed them in the world that their struggle against the great empire was from its very outset a desperate, a hopeless venture. It is not possible to suppose that, without the energetic help of the European Greek, the revolt could have ended otherwise than as it did; it may even be doubted whether, even with help from beyond the Ægean, the struggle could have been maintained against the enormous resources of Persia, as yet unimpaired by the disasters of the great war of 480 and 479. Even after that war, the energy and strength of Athens could not maintain more than an uncertain hold on the cities of the continent.

But the revolt had saved Greece.

The great blow levelled against her must have fallen in the first decade of the fifth century; and, had it done so, it would have fallen upon a Greece but ill-prepared to meet it. The struggle would doubtless have been a fierce one, but it would have been waged on the part of the Greeks without the aid of that factor which was decisive in the great struggle of ten years later—the great Athenian fleet.

The revolt had severely taxed the resources of the Empire. It took Persia six years to suppress it, and in this time she lost two fleets and one great army with its generals, besides the losses incurred in successful operations. It resulted that, though she did make two efforts in the years immediately following the revolt to gain a footing beyond the Ægean, those efforts were not of a nature which, judged in the light of knowledge after the event, could have attained any measure of success. She was unable at this time to set on foot an expedition adequate to the greatness of the undertaking.

It is impossible, on the evidence, to say that the struggle was carried on with a unanimity of courage on the part of all the Ionian towns; but it is plain that this aspect of the history of the time has had undue weight in the judgment formed by Herodotus.

The end was near. Miletus, the heart and soul of the revolt, was besieged by sea and land. The walls were undermined, and all sorts of siege engines were employed. FALL OF MILETUS. Finally, some time in the late summer or autumn of 494, the city fell. The fate of the population was a piteous one. The great majority of the male inhabitants were massacred. The women and children were enslaved, and carried captives to Susa. They and the remnant of the male population were placed in a settlement on the Persian Gulf, near the mouth of the river Tigris.

It is very difficult to estimate the loss which civilization has suffered by the destruction of this great city, which had been, up to the very time of its destruction, the foremost in the Hellenic world. It was not merely in the front rank in Greek commerce; it was also an intellectual centre unrivalled among the cities of the age. Whether it could ever have developed a period of literary brilliance equal to that of the Athens of the later part of this century, must remain a matter of speculation. It had a long start in the intellectual race. The wide interest of its material relations called forth a corresponding breadth of interest in literary speculation of various kinds; and the world would certainly have been enriched, had it possessed an Asiatic Greek literature parallel to that of European Greece. Difference of environment and difference of political circumstances would have produced a literary development on different lines; and the literature itself could not have failed to display one side of the many-sidedness of the Greeks, which is lost to the present world, save for a few fragments, which point to a promise of future greatness.

At Athens the fall of the great city created more than a momentary impression. Phrynichos composed a drama on the subject which aroused so bitter a sense of loss in the mind of the Athenians that they punished the dramatist by a fine of a thousand drachmas. It is possible that self-reproach was mingled with regret. The desertion of 498 was so sudden, and is, in certain respects, so unaccountable, that it may well have provoked considerable feeling even in Athens itself.

Herodotus draws a contrast between the emotion of Athens and the apathy of the Sybarites. When Sybaris was destroyed by Kroton about the year 510, the whole Milesian population had mourned the loss of their old commercial friend.

The last twenty years had been fateful in the history of Greek trade. Sybaris, Chalkis, and Miletus—three of the greatest names in the history of Greek commerce—had successively fallen; and their disappearance from the stage of the commercial world must have greatly modified that obscure but powerful factor in Greek history. It will be a matter for later consideration whether the disappearance of these competitors, especially from the western trade route, had not a powerful influence in shaping the events of the later half of the century.

Of the individual fortunes of the rest of the Asiatic Greek cities, Herodotus says but little. Among the Samians, the divided counsels in their contingent at Ladé seem to have given birth to such bitter dissensions that a section of the population which had remained loyal to the revolt left the island and set sail for Sicily, whence an invitation had come from the people of Zanklé, calling such Ionians as would to settle at Kale Akte on the north coast of the island. Their adventures are related by Herodotus.45 It is not necessary to follow them thither. Suffice it to say that the gross treachery of their conduct to their would-be hosts upon their arrival there affords one of those painful and striking examples of the co-existence in the Greek race of great virtues and great defects.

Æakes, the tyrant who had negotiated the treachery at Ladé, as a reward for his services on that occasion, was reinstated in Samos by the Phœnician fleet. The city and its temples were left untouched.

“Immediately after the capture of Miletus,” says Herodotus, “the Persians got possession of Caria, some of the cities submitting voluntarily, and others being reduced by force.”

The part played by Caria, as described in the narrative of the revolt, is quite incomprehensible. What had she been doing during the time that had intervened since the great defeat of the Persians on the Pedasos road? SUBJUGATION OF CARIA. The interval cannot, upon any calculation from the facts mentioned by Herodotus, have amounted to less than two years. Were the Carians during all this time inactive, sullenly awaiting their fate? Their story during these years is a lost chapter in history.

It would seem unlikely that Herodotus could not have obtained any information with regard to the course of events in the land immediately bordering on the territory of his own native town. The only possible conjecture is that his reference to the reduction of Caria as having taken place after that of Miletus, applies to its complete subjugation, and that the process had been going on for some time. It has already been suggested that the inactivity of Caria was due partly to its resistance having been undermined by Persian diplomacy in the period following the great defeat; and it may be that those towns which submitted voluntarily had been gradually detached from the insurrection by offers of favourable terms from Artaphernes.

Histiæus plays the chief part in the last scene of the drama of the revolt. Whenever this mysterious man appears upon the stage he brings mystery with him. He is still at Byzantion when the scene opens. He has been there for at least a year. But the strange feature of the matter is that, though he has been there so long, and though during all that time he has been committing acts of piracy (sic) against the Ionian traders, those simple-minded folk continue to send their vessels into the inevitable trap.

His Lesbians are still with him, presumably the crews of the eight ships the Mytilenians had granted him. And yet while all these strange proceedings are going on at Byzantion, and while their own people are taking part in them, these very Mytilenians send seventy vessels to Ladé! Byzantion was less than two days’ sail from them, and with half that number of vessels they could have put a stop to what was going on there, had they had the will to do so. They must have been satisfied that Histiæus was acting in their interest; and had that consisted in the perpetration of piratical acts against their allies, it is strange that they should have thought it their interest to join those allies at Ladé. They played, indeed, a coward’s part there, but not without excuse.

The evidence, though anything but conclusive, suggests the suspicion that Histiæus was acting in the interest of those cities who persevered in the revolt against those other Greek cities who had made, or had sought to make, terms with the Persian.

His proceedings after he had received the news of the fall of Miletus are less obscure in motive than his doings at Byzantion. His position in the Hellespontine region had certainly developed in the course of the year during which he had been there.

He left his affairs in charge of a certain Bisaltes of Abydos. His first objective was Chios. Thither accordingly these “beggars of the sea,” commanded by this broken adventurer, made their way. Driven to desperation, he and they had made up their minds to one great final effort to save whatever could be saved. It would seem, too, that Histiæus had a plan by which he thought this might be accomplished. The only possible explanation of his conduct, on the extant evidence, is that he once more turned his thoughts to Thrace, and sought to establish on the Strymon a rallying-point for the irreconcilables among the insurgents. He sought to resume in a modified form a design he had been forced to lay aside nearly twenty years before.

But it may be urged: If this was so, why did he direct his first efforts against Chios?

Did he go to Chios with any hostile intent at all? Were the hostilities there forced upon him by the deep distrust of him which the Chians entertained? The evident and well-founded contempt of Histiæus, which Herodotus felt on general grounds, has influenced his tale of what happened at Chios. He deplores alike the fate and folly of these Chians—their fate, in that suffering was added to their sufferings; their folly, in that they had brought these sufferings upon themselves by joining in the revolt, and by persevering in it to the bitter end.

Yet even so, his story shows that Histiæus’ action with regard to them was capable of at least two interpretations:

H. vi. 26.

This seems to imply that he had expected the Chian garrison to receive him.

Apart from the fact, already noticed, that Histiæus seems to have expected a peaceable occupation of Chios, it is remarkable that there is no mention of any bloodshed, save in the case of attack of the one garrison.

The colouring which is given to events by the tale of the organized attack on Chios from a base at Polichne, is evident. The whole intent of it is to represent the expedition of Histiæus as hostile to the Chians, and to emphasize the despicable behaviour of the various sections of the insurgents to one another when their fortunes had become desperate. Æolian attacks Ionian, and Ionian resists Æolian. And yet, in spite of this, Ionian joins Æolian in that attack on Thasos which immediately succeeds this period of alleged hostility.

But the story is not merely inconsistent with itself; it is hopelessly inconsistent with such circumstances of the time as may be gathered from Herodotus’ own evidence.

What conceivable object had Histiæus and these Lesbians in attacking Chios at a time when its reconquest by the Phœnician fleet could not be long deferred? Histiæus may or may not have been a scheming knave, but there is no reason to suppose that he was a witless man, unable to gauge the impossibility of maintaining Chios, or any of the islands on the Asian coast, after the disaster at Ladé.

Then why did he go to Chios? The answer to this question is dependent on the answer to a further question: Why, after occupying Chios, did he immediately attack Thasos?

Only one explanation of his conduct seems consistent with the circumstances of the time. The days of the revolt were numbered. A terrible retribution was to be apprehended. There must have been hundreds, perhaps thousands, of refugees on the Ionian coast of Asia, seeking for some shelter from the coming storm; and whither would they turn? To the islands first, as being safer than the mainland, with intent to secure time for escape over seas. Chios was the refuge to which these refugees would look in the first instance. Samos was anxious only for itself. Lesbos was farther from the centre of things. Chios was the natural rallying-point.

It was under these circumstances that Histiæus turned to Chios first after leaving the Hellespontine district. His action need not be attributed to philanthropic motives. It was at Chios that he would find any number of desperate recruits, ready for any venture on which he might propose to lead them; and he had such a venture planned in his mind.

His past experiences with the Chians had been unfortunate. But he had in the past managed to persuade them of his good faith towards the revolt; and why should he not be able to do so now?

The Chians were unprepared for his coming, and his landing was resisted. He accordingly withdrew to Polichne. This place lay near Klazomenæ,47 and commanded from the land side the peninsula off which Chios lies. HISTIÆUS AT THASOS. Herodotus says that he used the place as a base of operations against the Chians. The improbability of his having, at this juncture of affairs adopted an attitude of hostility towards the Chians, and, above all, of his having deliberately entered upon operations against them at a time when the arrival of the Phœnician fleet might be expected, is so great, that it is impossible to accept the statement as a reliable record of events. Later tradition may well have interpreted his proceedings at Polichne in the light of the unfortunate incident with the Chian garrison. Whether depressed or not by the defeat at Ladé, it is beyond imagination that this powerful island-state should have succumbed to an attack from such a force as Histiæus could have brought with him. It is infinitely more probable that he withdrew to Polichne in order to be able to explain his attitude to the Chians before further collision took place, and that he did persuade them of the bona fides of his intentions.

His next proceedings throw considerable light upon those intentions. H. vi. 28. Having got the Chians to his side, he proceeded to attack the Island of Thasos, taking with him “many of the Ionians and Æolians.”

There can be no doubt as to the general reasons which prompted this attack. Thasos had considerable possessions on the lower Strymon.

The particular reasons may be matter for conjecture. It is, at least, conceivable that the Thasians had the strongest objection to the establishment of a new power in a region in which they had so much at stake, in the shape of those gold-mines which brought them such enormous wealth; and that Histiæus found it necessary to subdue them, before he tried to carry out his plans on the continent.

Had the Thasians participated directly or indirectly in the disaster which befell Aristagoras?

Be this as it may, Histiæus was only carrying out in a new form, and under conditions more favourable to himself, a policy he had attempted to initiate years before, the initiation of which had caused his removal to Susa. He was now backed up by a number of desperate men, ready for any venture which might save them from the hands of the Persian. But time was all-important. The Phœnician fleet was at the moment engaged in the reduction of such Carian towns as still resisted; but its arrival in the North Ægean could not be long deferred.

It was, no doubt, owing to the resistance of Thasos that the plan miscarried. While he was besieging the place, news arrived that the Phœnician fleet was moving northward. This being so, it was quite certain that the Æolians in his force would insist on an attempt being made to rescue the Lesbians, if not Lesbos. So to Lesbos Histiæus went.

He arrived there only to find that the food supplies of the island, exhausted probably by the influx of refugees, were insufficient to support his army. So he crossed over with it to the mainland, making Atarneus his base, and intending to operate from it and seize the harvest-produce of its neighbourhood, and of the valley of the Kaïkos river.

Here he was attacked by a large Persian army under Harpagos. A large part of his force was destroyed, and Histiæus himself was captured.

But so it was not to be. The great Persian officials had no intention of giving their old enemy a chance of his life. When Harpagos brought him to Sardes, Artaphernes had him executed and sent his head up to Susa. HISTIÆUS. Greek tradition represented Darius to have treated the poor remains with honour, as being those of a man who had been a great benefactor to the Persians and their king.

Histiæus has come down in story as the arch-villain of his time. He was the most contemptible member of a hated class, as the men thought who created the story of his life, and as Herodotus, who implicitly copied the picture which they drew of him, thought also.

He cannot be accounted fortunate in his biographer. The shadows of the picture are so deep that the true lineaments of the man cannot now be clearly discerned. But he who tries to play a double part, and fails in the attempt, as Histiæus did, is not likely to occupy an honourable place in history. He seems to have been of great and selfish ambition, without the capacity to form a judgment as to the means requisite to carry it out, and without any scruple as to the means he did adopt. He figures consequently as a scheming but somewhat futile villain. He had made up his mind that his main endeavour must be to win the confidence of Darius, and that, if he won this, he could afford to ignore the great officials. He forgot how far a cry it was from Susa to Sardes. He wished at all costs to rule the Asiatic Greek—independent of Persia, if he could; under Persia, if he could not; but not under any satrap at Sardes or elsewhere. His plan, well conceived, but prematurely executed, of gaining a point d’appui in Thrace, gave away the whole design at its very inception. There followed years of exile at Susa. He returned to the coast to find the revolt undecided. He had, or thought he had, two alternative cards to play: either to help in the suppression of the revolt, and to make Darius believe that he had been mainly instrumental in its suppression, or to take the lead in the rising. But Artaphernes forced his hand, and he had no alternative but to play his second card. It might have been effective, had he been allowed to bide his time; but the premature display of it spoiled his whole game,—in fact, the Greeks would have none of him.

And in the last scene of all, at Chios, Thasos, and Lesbos, his curse is still upon him. He again miscalculated the means necessary to effect his design in the limited time within which it could possibly be successful. His cleverness was greater than his ability. He possessed the finesse of a schemer, but lacked the practical reason of the man of action.

His capture must be attributed to the spring of the year 493, inasmuch as his army was engaged in reaping the spring crops in the neighbourhood of Atarneus at the time at which it was attacked by Harpagos.

The rest of the tale of the revolt is soon told.

The Persian fleet, having wintered at Miletus, proceeded in the spring of 493 to reduce the island states. Chios, Lesbos, and Tenedos fell into their hands. Herodotus reports that they “netted” these islands, that is to say, swept them from end to end with a line of men with joined hands stretching from sea to sea. If the story be in any sense literally true, it probably means that the Persians were anxious to get hold of prominent refugees. Nothing is said as to what they did with those they captured.

Presumably the reduction of the continental cities was proceeding at this same time. If the list of ships at Ladé be any criterion, it would seem as if but few of them remained to be reduced. Those that did remain were treated with severity. Children of both sexes were carried away up country, and the cities with their temples were burnt to the ground.

This was the end of the revolt in Asia.

The operations which followed in Europe, though aiming at the subjugation of revolted districts, have a more intimate historical connection with their sequel than with the tale of the revolt itself.

CHRONOLOGY OF THE REVOLT.