A Victor of Salamis
CHAPTER XXVI
THEMISTOCLES IS THINKING
Leonidas was taken. Themistocles was left,--left to bear as crushing a loadas ever weighed on man,--to fight two battles, one with the Persian, onewith his own unheroic allies, and the last was the harder. Three hundredand seventy Greek triremes rode off Salamis, half from Athens, but thecommander-in-chief was Eurybiades of Sparta, the sluggard state that sentonly sixteen ships, yet the only state the bickering Peloponnesians wouldobey. Hence Themistocles's sore problems.
Different from the man of unruffled brow who ruled from the bema was hewho paced the state cabin of the _Nausicaae_ a few nights after theevacuation. For _he_ at least knew the morn would bring Hellas her doom.There had been a gloomy council that afternoon. They had seen theAcropolis flame two days before. The great fleet of Xerxes rode off theAttic havens. At the gathering of the Greek chiefs in Eurybiades's cabinThemistocles had spoken one word many times,--"Fight!"
To which Adeimantus, the craven admiral of Corinth, and many another hadanswered:--
"Delay! Back to the Isthmus! Risk nothing!"
Then at last the son of Neocles silenced them, not with arguments butthreats. "Either here in the narrow straits we can fight the king or notat all. In the open seas his numbers can crush us. Either vote to fighthere or we Athenians sail for Italy and leave you to stem Xerxes as youcan."
There had been sullen silence after that, the admirals misliking thefurrow drawn above Themistocles's eyes. Then Eurybiades had haltinglygiven orders for battle.
That had been the command, but as the Athenian left the Spartan flag-shipin his pinnace he heard Globryas, the admiral of Sicyon, muttering,"Headstrong fool--he shall not destroy us!" and saw Adeimantus turn backfor a word in Eurybiades's ear. The Spartan had shaken his head, butThemistocles did not deceive himself. In the battle at morn half of theHellenes would go to battle asking more "how escape?" than "how conquer?"and that was no question to ask before a victory.
The cabin was empty now save for the admiral. On the deck above the heartyshouts of Ameinias the trierarch, and chanting of the seamen told that onthe _Nausicaae_ at least there would be no slackness in the fight. The shipwas being stripped for action, needless spars and sails sent ashore, extraoars made ready, and grappling-irons placed. "Battle" was what everyAthenian prayed for, but amongst the allies Themistocles knew it wasotherwise. The crucial hour of his life found him nervous, moody, silent.He repelled the zealous subalterns who came for orders.
"My directions have been given. Execute them. Has Aristeides come yet?"The last question was to Simonides, who had been half-companion,half-counsellor, in all these days of storm.
"He is not yet come from AEgina."
"Leave me, then."
Themistocles's frown deepened. The others went out.
The state cabin was elegant, considering its place. Themistocles hadfurnished it according to his luxurious taste,--stanchions cased in bronzehammered work, heavy rugs from Carthage, lamps swinging from chains ofprecious Corinthian brass. Behind a tripod stood an image of Aphrodite ofFair Counsel, the admiral's favourite deity. By force of habit now hecrossed the cabin, took the golden box, and shook a few grains offrankincense upon the tripod.
"Attend, O queen," he said mechanically, "and be thou propitious to all myprayers."
He knew the words meant nothing. The puff of night air from the port-holecarried the fragrance from the room. The image wore its unchanging,meaningless smile, and Themistocles smiled too, albeit bitterly.
"So this is the end. A losing fight, cowardice, slavery--no, I shall notlive to see that last."
He looked from the port-hole. He could see the lights of the Barbarianfleet clearly. He took long breaths of the clear brine.
"So the tragedy ends--worse than Phrynicus's poorest, when they pelted hischorus from the orchestra with date-stones. And yet--and yet--"
He never formulated what came next even in his own mind.
"_Eu!_" he cried, springing back with part of his old lightness, "I haveborne a brave front before it all. I have looked the Cyclops in the face,even when he glowered the fiercest. But it all will pass. I presumeThersytes the caitiff and Agamemnon the king have the same sleep and thesame dreams in Orchus. And a few years more or a few less in a man's lifemake little matter. But it would be sweeter to go out thinking 'I havetriumphed' than 'I have failed, and all the things I loved fail with me.'And Athens--"
Again he stopped. When he resumed his monologue, it was in a differentkey.
"There are many things I cannot understand. They cannot unlock the riddlesat Delphi, no seer can read them in the omens of birds. Why was Glauconblasted? Was he a traitor? What was the truth concerning his treason?Since his going I have lost half my faith in mortal men."
Once more his thoughts wandered.
"How they trust me, my followers of Athens! Is it not better to be aleader of one city of freemen than a Xerxes, master of a hundred millionslaves? How they greeted me, as if I were Apollo the Saviour, when Ireturned to Peiraeus! And must it be written by the chroniclers thereafter,'About this time Themistocles, son of Neocles, aroused the Athenians tohopeless resistance and drew on them utter destruction'? O Father Zeus,must men say _that_? Am I a fool or crazed for wishing to save my landfrom the fate of Media, Lydia, Babylonia, Egypt, Ionia? Has dark Atroposdecreed that the Persians should conquer forever? Then, O Zeus, orwhatever be thy name, O Power of Powers, look to thine empire! Xerxes isnot a king, but a god; he will besiege Olympus, even thy throne."
He crossed the cabin with hard strides.
"How can I?" he cried half-aloud, beating his forehead. "How can I makethese Hellenes fight?"
His hand tightened over his sword-hilt.
"This is the only place where we can fight to advantage. Here in thestrait betwixt Salamis and Attica we have space to deploy all our ships,while the Barbarians will be crowded by numbers. And if we onceretreat?--Let Adeimantus and the rest prate about--'The wall, the wallacross the Isthmus! The king can never storm it.' Nor will he try to,unless his councillors are turned stark mad. Will he not have command ofthe sea? can he not land his army behind the wall, wherever he wills? HaveI not dinned that argument in those doltish Peloponnesians' ears until Ihave grown hoarse? Earth and gods! suffer me rather to convince a stonestatue than a Dorian. The task is less hard. Yet they call themselvesreasoning beings."
A knock upon the cabin door. Simonides reentered.
"You do not come on deck, Themistocles? The men ask for you. Ameinias'scook has prepared a noble supper--anchovies and tunny--will you not join theother officers and drink a cup to Tyche, Lady Fortune, that she prosper usin the morning?"
"I am at odds with Tyche, Simonides. I cannot come with you."
"The case is bad, then?"
"Ay, bad. But keep a brave face before the men. There's no call to pawnour last chance."
"Has it come to that?" quoth the little poet, in curiosity and concern.
"Leave me!" ordered Themistocles, with a sweep of the hand, and Simonideswas wise enough to obey.
Themistocles took a pen from the table, but instead of writing on theoutspread sheet of papyrus, thrust the reed between his teeth and bit itfiercely.
"How can I? How can I make these Hellenes fight? Tell that, King Zeus,tell that!"
Then quickly his eager brain ran from expedient to expedient.
"Another oracle, some lucky prediction that we shall conquer? But I haveshaken the oracle books till there is only chaff in them. Or a bribe toAdeimantus and his fellows? But gold can buy only souls, not courage. Oranother brave speech and convincing argument? Had I the tongue of Nestorand the wisdom of Thales, would those doltish Dorians listen?"
Again the knock, still again Simonides. The dapper poet's face was a cubitlong.
"Oh, grief to report it! Cimon sends a boat from his ship the _Perseus_.He says the _Dike_, the Sicyonian ship beside him, is not stripping forbattle, but rigging sail
on her spars as if to flee away."
"Is that all?" asked Themistocles, calmly.
"And there is also a message that Adeimantus and many other admirals whoare minded like him have gone again to Eurybiades to urge him not tofight."
"I expected it."
"Will the Spartan yield?" The little poet was whitening.
"Very likely. Eurybiades would be a coward if he were not too much of afool."
"And you are not going to him instantly, to confound the faint hearts andurge them to quit themselves like Hellenes?"
"Not yet."
"By the dog of Egypt, man," cried Simonides, seizing his friend's arm,"don't you know that if nothing's done, we'll all walk the asphodelto-morrow?"
"Of course. I am doing all I can."
"All? You stand with folded hands!"
"All--for I am thinking."
"Thinking--oh, make actions of your thoughts!"
"I will."
"When?"
"When the god opens the way. Just now the way is fast closed."
"_Ai!_ woe--and it is already far into the evening, and Hellas is lost."
Themistocles laughed almost lightly.
"No, my friend. Hellas will not be lost until to-morrow morning, and muchcan happen in a night. Now go, and let me think yet more."
Simonides lingered. He was not sure Themistocles was master of himself.But the admiral beckoned peremptorily, the poet's hand was on the cabindoor, when a loud knock sounded on the other side. The _proreus_,commander of the fore-deck and Ameinas's chief lieutenant, entered andsaluted swiftly.
"Your business?" questioned the admiral, sharply.
"May it please your Excellency, a deserter."
"A deserter, and how and why here?"
"He came to the _Nausicaae_ in a skiff. He swears he has just come from theBarbarians at Phaleron. He demands to see the admiral."
"He is a Barbarian?"
"No, a Greek. He affects to speak a kind of Doric dialect."
Themistocles laughed again, and even more lightly.
"A deserter, you say. Then why, by Athena's owls, has he left 'the Land ofRoast Hare' among the Persians, whither so many are betaking themselves?We've not so many deserters to our cause that to-night we can ignore one.Fetch him in."
"But the council with Eurybiades?" implored Simonides, almost on hisknees.
"To the harpies with it! I asked Zeus for an omen. It comes--a fair one.There is time to hear this deserter, to confound Adeimantus, and to saveHellas too!"
Themistocles tossed his head. The wavering, the doubting frown was gone.He was himself again. What he hoped for, what device lay in thatinexhaustible brain of his, Simonides did not know. But the sight itselfof this strong, smiling man gave courage. The officer reentered, with hima young man, his face in part concealed by a thick beard and a peaked capdrawn low upon his forehead. The stranger came boldly across toThemistocles, spoke a few words, whereat the admiral instantly bade theofficer to quit the cabin.