The Ravaging Of Mycalessus By Mercenaries During The Peloponnesian War

In 413 BCE, Demosthenes led an army of over 5,000 Athenian and allied forces to Sicily in order to reinforce a preexisting siege of Syracuse. A certain band of around 1,300 tardy Thracian mercenaries was meant to be sailing with that army, but when the swords-for-hire arrived in Athens, they found that Demosthenes had already sailed away. The jobless Thracians then renewed the offer of their military services to the city of Athens, which at that time was plagued by the presence of a nearby Spartan stronghold that had recently been built at Decelea, in the Athenian heartland of Attica. Although the Thracians were helpful in countering Peloponnesian raids, the Athenians decided that the mercenary company was too expensive to keep around. Athens eventually forced the Thracians to leave, but as they headed home to Thrace, the mercenaries were paid for one last job.

Athens tasked the homeward-bound Thracian mercenaries with the job of spreading chaos in the Spartan-aligned regions of Greece as they traveled back to Thrace.  To help with this mission, the Athenians apparently gave the Thracians an advisor (or possibly a general), as well as a fleet of transport ships. The Thracians sailed these transports along the coast of Greece, intending to sail into the Euboean Gulf, but they took a detour to raid Tanagra, on the borderland between Attica and Boeotia. After rushing back to their ships with the plunder, the mercenaries passed through the Euripus Strait between Euboea and mainland Greece, continuing to sail along the Boeotian shoreline.

Yet, before the Thracians sailed too far from the Euripus Strait, they disembarked on Boeotian soil and began marching inland. For unknown reasons, but perhaps on direction from their Athenian advisor, the Thracians continued marching inland until they reached an uninformed and poorly defended city called Mycalessus. It was a settlement seemingly devoted to farming, with little else of note except a few modest shrines and a large school for boys. Perhaps the city also catered to travelers, for there was a sizable temple of Hermes located only two miles away from the town. As Mycalessus was well inland and not a power player in the region, the people there had unfortunately let their guard down. The city was ill-protected by an inadequate garrison, and, although the city did have walls, the defensive features of the settlement were dilapidated and crumbling. Unfortunately, as the city also apparently had little in the way of scouts or patrols, Mycalessus left its gates wide open and it walls virtually undefended. The city remained in this sorry state as the army of Thracian mercenaries marched ever closer.

Eventually, the mercenaries arrived at the aforementioned temple of Hermes, which lay about two miles out from the city. Even then, the city of Mycalessus apparently still had no knowledge of the danger they were in. The mercenaries spent the night camped by the temple, but once daybreak arrived, they quickly rushed across the two mile stretch to the city and assaulted the unprepared people of Mycalessus. When the mercenaries attacked, the gates were still open, the wall still had gaps, and the garrison of the city was still understaffed. The Athenian general and historian, Thucydides (c. 460-400 BCE), wrote of this event in his History of the Peloponnesian War and his account infers that the city fell without a battle—the mercenaries were able to break in and immediately begin pillaging.

For no stated reason, the mercenary army’s occupation of Mycalessus became a bloodbath. According to Thucydides, “The Thracians burst into Mycalessus, sacked the houses and temples, and butchered the inhabitants, sparing neither the young nor the old, but methodically killing everyone they met, women and children alike, and even the farm animals and every living thing they saw” (History of the Peloponnesian War, Book VII, section 29). As happened with the city’s temples and houses, the boys’ school of Mycalessus was also invaded, and all of the schoolchildren who had gone to class that morning were reportedly massacred by the mercenaries. Thucydides’ sympathy for the city is palpable in his writing. He stated: “Mycalessus lost a considerable part of its population. It was a small city, but in the disaster just described its people suffered calamities as pitiable as any which took place during the war” (History of the Peloponnesian War, Book VII, section 30).

Fortunately for the survivors of Mycalessus, the city of Thebes had a competent intelligence network and learned of the attack quickly. A respected Boeotian commander named Scriphondas mobilized the forces of Thebes and rushed to the aid of Mycalessus. The Thebans caught the mercenaries unawares and unprepared. Some Thracians were still pillaging in the city at the time, while the majority were back out in the field. Upon the arrival of the Boeotians, the mercenaries apparently abandoned any of their comrades still inside the city and began an orderly withdrawal back toward their ships. The main contingent of Thracians was able to escape to the coast by carefully alternating between advance and retreat against the pursuing Thebans. Any mercenaries still inside the city, however, were said to have been killed by the newly arrived Boeotians forces.

When the embattled Thracian mercenaries reached the sea, a problem quickly developed. The Thebans had chased the mercenaries to the coast and the Thracians had not been able to fully embark on the ships before Boeotian archers forced the transports to sail out of arrow range. Many mercenaries found themselves stranded and some were either slain on the beach or drowned as they tried to swim to the transports. Although the majority of the mercenaries had escaped, a reported 250 Thracians died during the Theban counter-attack at Mycalessus or on the beach. The casualties of the Theban relief force was much lighter, with twenty men reported dead. Unfortunately, the leader of the Theban army, Scriphondas, was among the dead.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Scene depicting Aphrodite saving Aeneas, Etruscan black-figure amphora, ca. 480 BC. Martin-von-Wagner-Museum, L 793, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• History of the Peloponnesian War by Thucydides, translated by Rex Warner and introduced by M. I. Finley. New York: Penguin Classics, 1972.

Quintus Fabius Pictor, Rome’s First Historian, Wrote Centuries After The Greeks Pioneered The Field Of History

Tradition held that the kingdom of Rome was founded in the mid-8th century BCE. In fact, archaeologists believe permanent settlement in the region of Rome began as early as 1000 BCE. Yet, the 8th century was indeed a time when the primitive Roman town was becoming a wealthy city with growing power and influence. By the 7th century BCE, Rome had also become fairly literate and the city urbanized enough to officially be labeled as a city-state around 625 BCE. The combination of pride in the growing city, and the rise of literacy, undoubtedly led some Romans to start preserving stories of past events and people through spoken language (such as poetry, plays and eulogies) and these sorts of remembrances were later recorded in writing. During the 5th century BCE, after Rome had become a republic, even more useful documents about Roman events and people were being produced, such as the Fasti (Rome’s list of governing consuls) and the Annales maximi, a reported 80-book chronicle of Roman leaders and miscellaneous events. Yet, despite such vocal and tangible sources being available, it took a remarkably long time for Rome to produce a native historian who was willing to pull together the various sources into a narrative.

Greek scholarly pioneers of the 5th century BCE, such as Herodotus and Thucydides, ushered in the field of history. Neither Herodotus nor Thucydides specifically mentioned Rome, but they did, however, sometimes digress into commenting on events in Italy and they both mentioned the Etruscans. Yet, other less known 5th-century Greek writers did mention Rome—Hellanicus of Lesbos and Damastes of Sigeum interestingly wrote that Rome was where Aeneas built a new life after the Trojan War, a myth that Romans would full-heartedly endorse. Other than the link to Aeneas, however, Greeks of the 5th century BCE seemed uninterested in the history of Rome.

Things began to change in the 4th century BCE. The Gallic sack of Rome around 390 BCE and the subsequent Roman wars to regain power in the region caught the attention of Greek observers. The Gallic sack of Rome, alone, was mentioned by at least three 4th-century Greek scholars: Theopompus, Heraclides Ponticus, and the famous Aristotle. Yet, it was Rome’s actions in the 3rd century—featuring the Third Samnite War, the Pyrrhic War, and the beginning of the Punic Wars—when Greeks truly began craving information on those curious Romans in Italy. Greek historians such as Hieronymus of Cardia, Timaeus of Tauromenium, and (decades later) Polybius, answered that new historical demand.

Interestingly, even though Greek historians of the 3rd century BCE were beginning to delve into Roman topics, the city of Rome, itself, still had not reportedly produced a single historian. Nevertheless, a Roman senator living in the second half of the 3rd century was about to lead the way in making the topic of the past become a new scholarly passion in Rome. His name was Quintus Fabius Pictor and he reportedly published the first native Roman History around 200 BCE, just before or after Rome achieved victory in the Second Punic War.

Unfortunately, little is known about Pictor and his text, which is now lost to us. We do know that he was a senator and that he considered himself a statesman first and a historian second. As he was a member of Rome’s governing body, it is unsurprising to learn that his text was largely designed to inspire patriotism and nationalistic fervor in his Roman readers. Yet, his work was not all bad. He reportedly formatted his history like the works of historians from Greece, and Pictor even chose Greek as the language for his book. Even though Pictor’s history was by no means a masterpiece, it was the icebreaker that got Romans writing about their past. Not long after Pictor, Quintus Ennius (c. 239-169 BCE) published a curious Latin poem, called the Annales, which traced Roman history down to the Punic Wars in verse. After Ennius, came Cato the Elder (c. 234-148 BCE), whose 7-book Origines was the first Roman history in Latin prose.

Unfortunately, by the age of Pictor, Ennius and Cato, the Roman Republic was already centuries old, not to mention the pre-Republic period of kings in Rome. Although oral history, monuments, and old records from government archives and temples could provide information such as leader names, military conquests, natural disasters and diplomatic agreements, the late-arriving Roman historians had little historical context with which to weave the bullet points of miscellaneous information together. Yet, weave it together they did, narrating the story of the birth of Rome and the founding of the Republic through an intriguing patchwork of history, folklore and myth.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (King Numa and the Nymph Egeria, painted by    Felice Giani  (1758–1823), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of Rome by Livy, translated by Aubrey de Sélincourt. New York: Penguin Classics, 2002.
• The Beginnings of Rome by T. J. Cornell. New York: Routledge, 1995.
• https://www.britannica.com/place/Roman-Republic 

The Dawn Sea Battle At Syme After A Surprise Storm

The Athenian expedition to Sicily was destroyed in 413 BCE, leaving Athens militarily weakened and extremely demoralized. Sparta and its Peloponnesian allies hoped to exploit Athens’ moment of vulnerability by sending out Peloponnesian fleets and armies to inspire revolts among cities in the Athenian Empire. The Peloponnesians, encouraged by Persian support, first began by promising aid to cities in or around Ionia, including Miletus, Clazomenae, Mitylene and Cnidus, as well as islands such as Chios, Lesbos and eventually Rhodes. A Spartan admiral (nauarch) named Astyochus was appointed as supreme commander of the Peloponnesian naval forces and tasked with organizing the new overseas operations. Unfortunately, he quickly proved himself to be the stereotypical slow and overcautious Spartan. Although Sparta received a line of eager ambassadors from cities ready to rebel against Athens, Admiral Astyochus seemed unwilling or unable to intercept Athenian fleets heading toward Ionia or to adequately protect the rebel cities when the Athenian forces arrived to crush the rebellions.

Eventually, Sparta appointed a council of eleven officers to advise (and, if needed, overthrow) the sluggish admiral. If the council agreed unanimously, they had the power to remove Astyochus from office. These officers set sail for Ionia independently from the rest of the Peloponnesian fleet and eventually anchored at the city of Caunus. Interestingly, it was while Astyochus was sailing with his fleet of sixty-seven ships along the coast of Anatolia to meet with this oversight counsel that the admiral won one of his few victories at sea.

After raiding Cos and then stopping by the allied city of Cnidus, Astyochus learned that a fleet of twenty Athenian ships was patrolling through the islands off the coast of southwest Anatolia, searching for the Spartans officers who had just sailed to Caunus. Astyochus, upon hearing this news, decided to sail with his fleet into a dark and cloudy night, reportedly in hopes of catching the Athenians by surprise. Yet, a skeptic might also say he wanted to avoid his enemies in the cloudy darkness. Whatever the case, Astyochus continued on his journey and sailed toward the island of Syme in the middle of the night. During this nighttime journey, the clouds condensed into a storm and scattered Astyochus’ fleet. The separated ships became lost in the darkness, and, by morning, several fragments of the Peloponnesian fleet found themselves alone in the sea.

As luck would have it, the Athenian patrol happened to also reach Syme that very morning. The Athenians spotted a small group of Peloponnesian ships and, not seeing any other hostile vessels close by, decided to immediately attack. Yet, the storm had not scattered the Peloponnesian fleet too far apart. When the sounds of sailors shouting and hulls clashing began to emanate from Syme, the other individual ships of the Peloponnesian fleet began making their way toward the noise of battle. Astyochus’ scattered sailors closed in on Syme from all directions, eventually surrounding the horrified Athenians in a tightening ring of hulls. As more and more of the sixty-seven Peloponnesian ships arrived at the site of the battle, the Athenians decided it was time to detach themselves from the fray and sail away. The majority of the Athenians did successfully flee, but six ships were lost during the battle or in the escape.

After his unplanned victory at Syme, Astyochus met up with his council of advisors at Caunus and continued on with his overcautious methods at sea. As more and more rebel cities fell or faced difficulties in the absence of effective aid, the Peloponnesian forces began to grow ever more mutinous toward their admiral. Astyochus was removed from his command before the end of 411 BCE and replaced with Mindarus.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (19th-century depiction of the Athenian Navy from the Peloponnesian War, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• History of the Peloponnesian War (Book VIII) by Thucydides, translated by Rex Warner and introduced by M. I. Finley. New York: Penguin Classics, 1972. 
• http://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-893

The Embarrassing Way An Athenian Fleet Broke Into The Sicilian City of Catana

In 415 BCE, Athens and its allies launched an expedition to Sicily reportedly consisting of over 130 warships, plus more than 100 smaller supply boats. Accompanying the sailors was a combined force of over 7,000 hoplite infantry, skirmishers and even some cavalry. When the expeditionary force reached Italy and Sicily, it met with a cold reception. The Italian cities were extremely suspicious of the Athenians, and they usually gave the expedition members some water and allowed the fleet to anchor offshore, but no more—after this brief show of hospitality, most Italian cities barred their gates and manned their walls. Of all the coastal cities in Italy, Rhegium behaved the friendliest toward the Athenians. It was near that city that the Athenians set up their first prolonged expedition camp. Rhegium also opened up a temporary market from which the Athenians could buy supplies, but like the rest of the Italian cities, they refused to let the foreigners inside their walls.

After resting up near Rhegium, the expedition force turned its gaze to the true target of the campaign—Sicily, especially the city-states of Selinus and Syracuse. The three generals in charge, Alcibiades, Nicias and Lamachus, had differing views on how to make their approach. In the end, Alcibiades convinced his comrades that recruiting Sicilian cities to the Athenian cause was the best first step. Following Alcibiades’ plan, Athenian ships sailed from Rhegium toward Sicily. Yet, just like in Italy, the local city-states gave the newcomers a cold reception. Messina, the city that Athens most wanted to have as an ally, refused to align with the expedition and closed their gates, although they did open up a market for trade. The city of Catana also refused to allow the Athenians inside their walls and told the fleet to keep sailing. Only Naxos allowed the expedition to freely enter their city.

Before long, the Athenian fleet encountered the powerful city of Syracuse. Here, the Athenians laid out the conditions that had to be met to avoid war. The main demand was that swaths of land be returned to Athens’ ally, Leontini. With the ultimatum delivered, the diplomats took a tour of the city and did reconnaissance work. After assessing Syracuse’s strength, the Athenian fleet began backtracking toward the camp at Rhegium, where some of their ships had stayed behind.

When the expedition force returned to Catana, they found the city slightly more willing to negotiate. The leaders of Catana reportedly invited the leading generals of the expedition to come inside the city and talk things over. This offer was accepted and the generals entered the city (presumably with some bodyguards), but left their ships and men nervously waiting outside the walls.

The Athenian generals walked into an interesting situation, to say the least. The city was in a state of disrepair, and even its walls and gates were poorly maintained. Moreover, the leaders of Catana were apparently very unpopular with their people and unrest was on the rise. With their city crumbling and their political power waning, perhaps the local leading party was willing to align with the expedition to maintain power. Alas, we will never know, for the arranged one-on-one meeting between the generals and the ruling party of Catana never occurred.

Not long after the generals had entered the city, the loitering Athenian fleet began to feel restless. Thucydides (460-400 BCE), the main historian of the period, did not provide a motive for the army’s behavior, but it is possible that they feared their leaders were walking into a trap. Otherwise, maybe the Athenians were just fed up with so many Italian and Sicilian cities closing their gates against the expedition. Whatever the case, large numbers of Athenian warriors began gathering by the walls of the city. There, the expeditionary forces saw what their generals had witnessed earlier—the city defenses were in a horrible state. Incredibly, the Athenians were reportedly able to simply push their way through the city gates without using any siege weaponry.

Once the unruly Athenian warriors had broken into the city, they found their generals were safe. In fact, Alcibiades was reportedly giving a speech to the assembled masses of the city when the worried Athenians broke down the front gate. When the generals were found safe and sound, the Athenian forces calmed down and, according to Thucydides, many decided to awkwardly “stroll about in the market-place” (History of the Peloponnesian War, Book VI, section 51).

With Athenian forces suddenly appearing in the city, the leaders of  Catana decided to flee. Alcibiades’ speech to the masses must have been well-received, for the people of Catana agreed to an alliance with Athens and decided to allow (or did not resist) the expeditionary force to build a new camp for their Sicilian campaign near the city.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Black-Figure amphora depicting Achilles and Ajax playing a board game overseen by Athena, c. 510 BCE, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• History of the Peloponnesian War (Book IV) by Thucydides, translated by Rex Warner and introduced by M. I. Finley. New York: Penguin Classics, 1972.

The Fatal Love Triangle Of Hipparchus, Harmodius And Aristogeiton In Ancient Athens

Hippias and Hipparchus were sons of Peisistratus, the tyrant of Athens who ruled from 546 BCE until his death in 527 BCE. Upon the tyrant’s death, power in Athens passed to his sons, of whom the eldest son, Hippias, took the lead political role. While his older brother ran the city-state, Hipparchus seemed to devote much of his time to pursuing pleasure. One such pursuit of desire, however, would become fatal for all parties involved in the drama.

As told by Thucydides (History of the Peloponnesian War, Book VI), Hipparchus lusted after a beautiful person named Harmodius. Although he laid on as much charm and seductiveness as he could muster, Hipparchus completely failed in realizing his sensual ambitions. As it happened, Harmodius already had a lover named Aristogeiton, and when Aristogeiton learned of Hipparchus’ advances, he was enraged. He also reportedly feared that Hipparchus might use his power and influence as a member of the Peisistratid family to force Harmodius into an unwanted relationship.

Indeed, Hipparchus’ lust had apparently evolved into emotions of anger after being faced with rejection. Yet, instead of unleashing his anger on Harmodius, Hipparchus instead publicly disgraced Harmodius’ sister in the midst of a parade or procession for all the population of Athens to see. This public act of cruelty was too much for Harmodius and Aristogeiton to bear, so they began planning the murder of Hipparchus.

Sometime during their macabre plotting, Harmodius and Aristogeiton broadened their horizon and, instead of just murdering Hipparchus, they decided to topple the whole tyrannical regime of the Peisistratids. In order to carry out the conspiracy, the lovers recruited other passionate Athenians to their cause. Yet, they kept the overall number of conspirators relatively small for the sake of lowering the chance of their plot being discovered.

The conspirators finally struck during the feast of the Panathenaea (or the Panathenaic festival) of 514 BCE. Yet, despite all their planning, the conspiracy quickly fell apart. Riled up by emotion, Harmodius and Aristogeiton raced off to find Hipparchus before the rest of the conspirators could get into position and surround the elder (and more powerful) Peisistratid brother, Hippias. The lovers cornered Hipparchus near the Leocorium and, without a thought for their compatriots, they stabbed their target to death with daggers. As soon as the commotion occurred, the Peisistratid private army of guards and mercenaries sprung into action. Harmodius was slain on the spot and Aristogeiton was captured.

As the conspirators did not strike in unison or with coordination, Hippias and his guards were forewarned of possible danger. Appraising the heightened security measures of the Peisistratid guards, the rest of the conspirators did not attempt to assassinate Hippias. The conspirators had also hoped that the Athenian masses would rise up against the tyrants when news of the attack spread. Yet, the Peisistratids, although they had gained power by force, had hitherto ruled Athens with a fairly light touch. Unfortunately for the conspirators, the assassination of Hipparchus did little to sway the masses to their cause. In fact, the man most inspired by the assassination of Hipparchus was Hippias, who, in response to his brother’s murder, hunted down the conspirators and began a wave of persecutions. For his part in the attack, the captured Aristogeiton was executed through tortuous and painful means. As for Hippias, he continued to rule as tyrant of Athens for four more years until he was forced to flee in 510 BCE by a military intervention from Sparta.

Despite the failure of Harmodius and Aristogeiton bring down the Peisistratid regime, their act of murdering Hipparchus was later celebrated as an act of liberty in Athens. Some even wrongfully credited the lovers as being responsible for Hippias’ departure from Athens, a falsehood that annoyed Thucydides. Therefore, setting the story straight was one of the reasons why Thucydides wrote down the tale in his history. Before launching into the story, Thucydides prefaced his account of the love triangle with a cautionary statement that read, “the Athenians themselves are no better than other people at producing accurate information about their own dictators and the facts of their own history” (History of the Peloponnesian War, Book VI, section 54).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Exhibit of a stamnos depicting the assassination of Hipparchus, housed in the Martin von Wagner Museum - Würzburg, Germany. [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• History of the Peloponnesian War (Book VI) by Thucydides, translated by Rex Warner and introduced by M. I. Finley. New York: Penguin Classics, 1972.
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Peisistratus 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Hippias 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Harmodius    

The Murderous Krypteia of Ancient Sparta

Like most countries that depended on oppressed laborers, the free citizens of Sparta were far outnumbered by the subservient Helots (similar in nature to medieval serfs), who performed all of the manual work required by the state. As such, the Spartans were always in fear of a Helot revolt, as it would threaten national security and shatter the Spartan economy. One of the unpleasant results of this fear was the Krypteia. Unfortunately, surviving information on the Krypteia is vague, yet what we do know is extremely unnerving.

Plutarch wrote the most detailed description of the Krypteia in his biography of Lycurgus, included in his Parallel Lives. Even though his account is the clearest, it still leaves many questions unanswered. According to Plutarch, the Krypteia was some sort of institution that operated from the shadows to oppress the Helots. In the account, he was unclear as to whether the Krypteia was a large-scale government organization (like a secret police) or if the Krypteia was simply an initiation test given to talented Spartan trainees. Either way, the Spartan youths and their instructors were said to have played a significant role in the Krypteia.

According to Plutarch, agents of the Krypteia were the most intelligent and talented of the Spartan youths. The training overseers would periodically send out these elite trainees, armed with daggers and provisions, to infiltrate the countryside. While on their missions, these agents would allegedly spend their days hiding and resting, but once the sun fell, they would allegedly prowl for Helots and sometimes go on a murdering rampage. The assassins were said to target the strongest, most admired, members of the Helot population—the very ones that could lead potential revolts against Sparta.

An event reported by Thucydides (c. 460-400 BCE) to have occurred in Sparta around early 424 BCE is often mentioned in regards to the actions of the Krypteia. It was a time when the morale of Sparta was very low—in 425 BCE, the Athenian general, Demosthenes, audaciously constructed, and successfully defended, a fortress at Pylos, located on the southwestern coast of the Peloponnesus. Not only did the Athenian general protect his newly built fortress from a Peloponnesian attack, but he also captured over a hundred Spartan officers that had camped on a nearby island. According to Thucydides, the loss at Pylos, as well as other Athenian victories, made the Spartans worry about a possible Helot uprising. Thucydides alleged that, in the aftermath of Pylos, the Spartans sent out messages, asking for the Helot community to send their strongest and most productive members of their community to an unnamed temple, where they would receive rewards for their efforts. These chosen Helots, supposedly 2,000 in number, were wreathed with garlands and paraded around the temple grounds. Yet, not long after the ceremony, all 2,000 of the elite helots were said to have died of mysterious causes.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Three Spartan Boys Practicing Archery, by Christoffer Wilhelm Eckersberg (1783–1853), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• On Sparta (Life of Lycurgus), by Plutarch excerpted from his Parallel Lives, translated by Richard J. A. Talbert. New York: Penguin Classics, 2005.
• History of the Peloponnesian War (Book IV) by Thucydides, translated by Rex Warner and introduced by M. I. Finley. New York: Penguin Classics, 1972. 
• https://www.britannica.com/topic/helot#ref1175  

A Spartan General Claimed He Was Aided In Taking An Athenian Fortress By Athens’ Patron Goddess, Athena

Around 424 and 423 BCE, a skilled Spartan general named Brasidas was causing all sorts of problems for Athens. He had taken an army out of the Peloponnesus and passed relatively unnoticed through Thessaly to link up with King Perdiccas of Macedonia near Mt Olympus. From there, Brasidas set out on an impressive campaign in the regions of Chalcidice and Thrace, where he strove to cause as many rebellions among Athens’ northern allies as he could manage to ignite. Using diplomacy and military pressure, the Spartan general was able to get results. The historian Thucydides, who happened to be one of the Athenian generals pitted against Brasidas, wrote that the silver-tongued Spartan was able to convince several important cities to defect to the Peloponnesian side with the use of only his words and his reputation for leniency. Yet, if Athenian allies were stubborn, he was not afraid to meet them on the battlefield.

One of the last actions that Brasidas took before Athens and Sparta agreed to an armistice in 423 was an attack on a pro-Athenian fortress at Lecythus, a region mainly known for its temple of Athena. The defenders of Lecythus were refugees from Torone, a nearby city in Chalcidice that Brasidas had taken by force. The Spartan commander gave the soldiers at Lecythus two days of peace and during that time he sent them messages, warning that if they did not abandon their fortifications, an assault would be imminent. When the troops of Lecythus remained where they were, Brasidas settled in for a siege.

The defenses that Brasidas faced at Lecythus were not pretty. After Athenian loyalists fled from Torone, they had sought shelter in Lecythus and pulled together whatever defensive structures they could muster in that short amount of time. It must have been a chaotic sight, with makeshift walls and turrets built around and on top of existing structures. Thucydides wrote that the soldiers in Lecythus even constructed a wooden tower on top of a house. Despite the speedy and unorthodox design of the defenses, the odd fortress held up against Brasidas’ attacks. After a day of fruitless attempts to scale the wall, the Spartan general decided that he needed a siege engine to bring down the impromptu fortifications. Nevertheless, Brasidas still announced to his troops that he was willing to pay thirty minae in silver to the one who could breach the enemy’s walls first.

Perhaps, not only human ears listened to Brasidas’ promise. On the next day of the assault, something went terribly wrong for the defenders in Lecythus. The house that they had used as a foundation for their tower proved to be too weak for such a heavy structure. The house collapsed, causing the tower to come crashing down on top of whatever other defensive emplacements were in its path. The spectacle was a great surprise to both sides involved in the struggle, but it definitely affected the defenders in a much more palpable way. Soldiers defending the far side of Lecythus thought that the commotion by the tower had been caused by whatever siege engine the Peloponnesians were constructing. Believing Lecythus to be lost, the defenders began retreating toward their ships.

When Brasidas saw that the defenders were fleeing, he renewed his attack, possibly making use of a gap in the defensive structures caused by the tower’s collapse. Once inside Lecythus, Brasidas slaughtered any defender who had been too slow to seek shelter on the ships.

Remembering the promise that he had made earlier, about paying thirty silver minae to whoever could first breach the walls, Brasidas concluded that it was not a man who had caused Lecythus to be captured, but a goddess. Therefore, Brasidas apparently donated the thirty silver minae to the temple of Athena in Lecythus and, when the fortifications were cleared away, he had all of the land there declared a sacred site of Athena.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Frederick the Great as Perseus, painted by Bernhard Rode (1725–1797), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• History of the Peloponnesian War (Book II) by Thucydides, translated by Rex Warner and introduced by M. I. Finley. New York: Penguin Classics, 1972.

The Impressive Defense Of Acarnania Against A Spartan-Led Coalition During The Peloponnesian War

Sometime between 429-428 BCE, the Peloponnesian League combined its forces to invade the region of Acarnania. Their target was wedged between Aetolia to the east and Epirus to the north, all of which was geographically north of the Peloponnesus. Acarnania was an ally of the Peloponnesian foe, Athens, and by conquering the coastal region, the Peloponnesians believed they could halt the dangerous Athenian naval raids that constantly threatened their shorelines.

Sparta, the leading state of the Peloponnesian League, was said by Thucydides (c. 460-400 BCE) to have contributed 1,000 of their feared hoplite infantry to the expedition. Numerous Spartan allies also contributed ships and soldiers to the coalition force. Thucydides mentioned that Corinth, Sicyon, Leucas, Anactorium and Ambracia contributed resources to the cause. They apparently joined forces with a large contingent from Epirus and Macedonia. Most notable of these were the Chaonians and Orestians, who brought 1,000 men each. Other members of this Epirote-Macedonian coalition were the Thesprotians, Molossians, Atintanians and Paravaeans. King Perdiccas of Macedonia, too, was supposedly going to join the expedition with 1,000 of his own troops, but he arrived too late to contribute to the campaign. Sparta placed a man named Cnemus in charge of this large military force.

The coalition entered Acarnania without much resistance and set out for the city of Stratus, the leading settlement in the region. The Acarnanians sent messengers to the nearby Athenian commander, Phormio, who was leading allied troops in the city of Naupactus. Unfortunately, Phormio responded that he could not leave Naupactus undefended while a Peloponnesian fleet was so near. Therefore, the Acarnanians would have to fight off their invaders alone.

In Acarnania, the Peloponnesians and their allies split into three divisions. The center division, which was the farthest forward, consisted of the troops from Epirus and Macedonia. To the left of center marched the allies of the Peloponnesians, men from Leucas and Anactorium. And on the right, Cnemus led the Spartan troops and other soldiers recruited directly from the Peloponnesus.

As can happen with divided forces, the three separate groups began to see themselves as rival parties in a competition to seize the city of Stratus—the center division full of men from Epirus and Macedonia was said to have been particularly enthralled by this idea. With little regard for discipline or coordination with the other wings of the invasion force, the center division charged toward the city, leaving behind the rest of the allied army. They planned to seize the city, and the glory, all by themselves. Unfortunately, Acarnanian scouts realized what was happening and the city of Stratus sent out troops to set up hidden ambush spots outside of their walls.

When the rogue division reached Stratus, the Acarnanians launched their attack. Thucydides wrote that the garrison inside the city poured out to meet the invaders while the ambushers simultaneously attacked the division from behind. The soldiers from Epirus and Macedonia were not suspecting such resistance from Stratus and fled in fear. Meanwhile, the other two divisions had no clue of what had happened. The rest of the army was only enlightened to the fate of the center division when scattered bands of soldiers sought refuge in the left and right wings of the invasion force. In light of the new circumstances, the invaders decided to combine their divisions back into one camp. Yet, the Acarnanians now had the momentum. The city of Stratus set up more ambushes and sent out slingers to launch a persistent stream of projectiles into the Peloponnesian camp.

The Acarnanian guerilla warfare was so effective that the Peloponnesians found that they could not move except when they were fully armored and alert. Even more alarming, they heard that Acarnanian reinforcements were heading to relieve the city of Stratus. Eventually, the invaders simply lost the will to continue their campaign. Cnemus carefully retreated his forces back to the river Anapus and escaped with his army through the friendly territory of the Oeniadae people. Then, the tired coalition disbanded and returned to their respective homelands.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Drawing of a Balearic slinger by Johnny Shumate (jjjshumate@earthlink.net), in front of a 1903 map of ancient Greece, both [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• History of the Peloponnesian War (Book II) by Thucydides, translated by Rex Warner and introduced by M. I. Finley. New York: Penguin Classics, 1972.  

Most Speeches From Ancient History Books Are Fake

This statement will not come as a surprise to those who are well-versed in history, but others who know less about the evolution of historical writing may find the idea shocking—most speeches recorded by ancient historians were falsified. Unless the historian from antiquity specifically stated that an included speech within his work was derived from an official tablet or monument, you can safely assume that most of the speech was fabricated by the author. For the most part, the earliest historians (except Thucydides) did not see this as a problem; the goal of most ancient historians was to make their work dramatic and exciting, even at the expense of truthfulness.

Although the speeches recorded by ancient historians were usually falsified, that does not mean that the ideas and strategies presented in the speeches were inaccurate. Most of the classical historians, even if the speech was wholly their own creation, tried to write their speeches in the character of their subject. If the historian was writing a speech for a cautious man, the speech would be written from a viewpoint of caution; if the speech was for a man of rash action, the wording would be tailored toward careless impulsiveness. In short, ancient writers usually had no clue what the people they wrote about actually said, so they made do with fabricating speeches that they believed were in character with what these people would have said.

Some ancient historians who were writing about contemporary events did likely hear speeches from the people that they wrote about in their books. Yet, the ancients did not have the convenience of televised speeches or audio recordings that now grace us today—it was simply much harder to record or remember speeches with accuracy in the days of old. As a result, even speeches that were written down by first-hand witnesses were more often than not simplified summaries of what was actually said.

Thucydides, regarded by many to be the greatest historian from ancient Greece, openly wrote about the use of fake speeches in history books, including his own:

“In this history I have made use of set speeches some of which were delivered just before and others during the war. I have found it difficult to remember the precise words used in the speeches which I listed to myself and my various informants have experienced the same difficulty; so my method has been, while keeping as closely as possible to the general sense of the words that were actually used, to make the speakers say what, in my opinion, was called for by each situation.”

(Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War, Book 1, chapter 22)

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Top picture attribution: (Pericles' funeral oration, painted by Philipp Foltz (1805–1877), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• History of the Peloponnesian War by Thucydides, translated by Rex Warner and introduced by M. I. Finley. New York: Penguin Classics, 1972.