In the fifth century BC, successive rulers of the mighty Persian Empire sought to expand their dominions westward. In a series osf engagements vital to the future of western civiliation, the Greek allies withsttod and repulsed the invaders.
■ Ancient Authorities
The history of the Persian invasion of Greece is narrated in continuous and connected form by Herodotus, who was born about 484 BC in the Greek city of Halicarnassus on the south-west coast of Asia Minor. An Ionian Greek himself, he wrote in his own dialect, but he travelled widely and resided for a time at Athens before settling in the Greek colony of Thurii in southern Italy, where he died about 424 BC. The first Persian invasion thus took place shortly before his birth and the second during his infancy.
The Athenian, Thucydides, who chose for his theme the history of later wars, lived and wrote in the second half of the fifth century BC and his references to the Persian Wars sometimes supplement knowledge gained from Herodotus. But we have in Aeschylus’ play thePersae an account of the second Persian invasion and the battle of Salamis by one who had perhaps fought in that battle – as he had at Marathon ten years earlier. His brother was, in fact, killed in action at Marathon. Aeschylus was, of course, a poet and a dramatist and his purpose was not to write history. But no modern historian is likely to overlook the importance of Aeschylus’ play.
Apart from that, there remains the fragmentary evidence of Greek lyric poets who lived a century before the Persian Wars and who refer to the political situation in the eastern Aegean, which preceded Persian power in that area. Their inadvertent historiography may usefully be added to Herodotus’ account of the same period. Nor should we despise the relevant biographies of Plutarch, which were written some six centuries after the events with which we are concerned. Plutarch was a serious scholarly writer and he had access to many books, monuments and inscriptions which have long since been destroyed. Monuments and inscriptions, of course, have, particularly in the last century and a half, been frequently recovered by the spade of the archaeologist, and our knowledge has been further supplemented by the deciphering of mutilated Greek papyrus manuscripts found in Egypt. Even so, the writers and commentators of late antiquity have a very great advantage over us.
■ The Events of the Persian Wars
The Persian Empire was brought into existence suddenly by the victories of Cyrus the Great – almost as suddenly as it was to be destroyed a little more than 200 years later by the victories of Alexander the Great. In the early sixth century BC, the Persians occupied territories round Susa, just eastward of what we still habitually call the Persian Gulf. Cyrus overwhelmed the Medes to the north of his kingdom and then, before any grand alliance could be formed against him, turned his attention westward to the Lydian power in Asia Minor. He conquered Croesus, the Lydian king, and took Sardis, the Lydian capital. Croesus may be described as a “Philhellene”. He was on terms of friendly co-existence not only with the Greek cities of the eastern Aegean, which he dominated, but with those of mainland Greece. It is easy to believe that most Greeks regarded his fall with dismay. On the other hand, the Greek ideal of freedom, involving the preservation of small, independent city states, implied at some stage a certain clash with any large imperial power that extended over the peninsula of Asia Minor.
Cyrus divided his empire into provinces under the rule of governors or “satraps” – to use a Persian word which we have inherited in its Greek form. The subjugation of the Aegean coast was completed by his general Harpagus, while Cyrus himself returned eastwards to capture Babylon – the event recorded in the Old Testament – before meeting his death in an obscure war amid northern tribes. His son Cambyses, despite some evidence of mental instability, added Egypt to the empire, and after an interlude in which a usurper ruled, the imperial throne was occupied by Darius, another scion of the royal (Achaemenid) family.
Darius organized the empire into 20 satrapies and sought to extend his empire into south-east Europe. He led his armies beyond the Bosphorus and even beyond the Danube. In the last campaign, against the Scythians, he fared ill; the Persian force would probably have been surrounded and annihilated if it had not been for the loyalty of Darius’ Ionian Greek contingent, which guarded the Danube bridgehead. From the events of this campaign, both Darius and the Ionian Greeks drew mistaken conclusions. Darius assumed that in future he could rely on the unswerving loyalty of the Ionians, and the Ionian Greeks, conscious that the Persians had been worsted by the Scythians, judged that the time was close when they themselves might with impunity and fair prospects raise a revolt against their Persian overlord.
From Miletus, the chief city of the Ionians, an embassy1 came to mainland Greece canvassing armed aid from compatriot states. The Spartans, cautious diplomats as ever, hesitated and at last refused to help. The Athenians, impulsive as ever, contributed 20 ships to the cause of Greek independence in the East; the city of Eretria, on the big island of Euboea, also contributed five ships.
At first, the Ionian revolt met with success. The Greeks marched inland and burned Sardis, the old capital of Croesus, to which a Persian satrap had succeeded. But retribution followed. The Greek fleet was destroyed at the battle of Lade in 494 BC. Miletus was also destroyed by the Persians, its inhabitants being massacred or enslaved. This news came as a shock to the Athenians. They rightly suspected that worse was to follow. Darius, aware of the naval help which had been given to the Ionians, was preparing a punitive expedition against the Greek mainland. His armada, commanded by his son-in-law, set sail in 492 BC and hugged the northern Aegean coastline. (Ancient Mediterranean ships preferred to keep within sight of land if possible.) A storm badly damaged the Persian fleet off the promontory of Mount Athos, so Darius was obliged to try again.
Another fleet was sent, under other commanders, by way of Naxos across the central Aegean. Eretria, the weaker of the two guilty cities, was quickly captured and burnt. The Persians now disembarked on the north-west coast of Attica, in the plain of Marathon, from which the road ran, skirting Mount Pentelicus on the south, straight to Athens. But an Athenian army opposed the landing and gloriously routed the Persian forces in a battle on the plain. The Persians who survived or had not been committed to the battle were then transported by their fleet round Cape Sunium, to approach Athens from the Saronic Gulf. But the victorious Athenian army hastened back from Marathon along the Athens road and confronted the Persians once more when their ships arrived.
Darius died in 486 BC, having avenged himself against Eretria, but not against Athens. Athens had, in fact, incurred new guilt from the Persian point of view. The outstanding punitive task was inherited by Darius’ son, Xerxes. In 480 BC, ten years after his father’s final expedition, Xerxes crossed the Hellespont with an army whose size was to become legendary and began his march through Thrace into northern Greece. The Persian fleet accompanied the march of the land forces, sailing along those northern Aegean shores on which Darius’ navy had previously suffered wreck. But before setting out, Xerxes had had a canal cut through the neck of the Athos peninsula: a three-years task. His armada was thus spared the hazards of rounding the cape.
On this occasion, Sparta had been persuaded to participate in the Greek national effort. One of her kings, with what amounted to a suicide squad and such allies as he could muster, made a glorious stand at Thermopylae, while a Greek fleet fought a delaying action against the Persian ships off Artemisium, the northerly headland of Euboea. But the resistance was overcome and the Persians were soon masters of northern Greece. The Athenian population had been evacuated to the island of Salamis and other neighbouring coasts; the Persians entered Athens, burnt its citadel and killed the few defenders. At Salamis, a decisive battle was fought with the Greek fleet. The Persian armada was routed with crucial losses, and Xerxes, perhaps anxious about the repercussions of his defeat further east, bitterly retraced his steps, with much of his army, towards the Hellespont, leaving his general Mardonius with other land forces to complete the conquest of Greece. In the following year, however, Mardonius’ forces were crushed at the battle of Plataea; those who survived followed Xerxes back to Asia.
While the battle of Plataea was being fought, a new situation had developed in the eastern Aegean. The surviving ships of Xerxes’ fleet were beached, with a palisade around them, at Mycale on the Asiatic mainland, while the Greeks, who had cautiously followed by sea, watched from the coast of Samos. Taking courage at last, the Greeks sailed across the straits which separated them from the mainland and destroyed both the enemy camp and fleet. One may guess that they were spurred into action by news of the victory at Plataea. Herodotus says that the victories of Plataea and Mycale occurred on the same day, but we need not take him too literally.
Mycale anticipated another Greek triumph on the banks of the Eurymedon river in southern Asia Minor. But Greek successes were not uninterrupted, and an expedition subsequently dispatched to assist Egyptian rebels against their Persian overlord came to grief. Not until 449 BC was it possible to reach an agreement by which Persia recognized the independence of Greek cities in the eastern Aegean.
■ The Persian High Command
The Persian numbers in the two invasions were so overwhelmingly superior that one tends to blame the Persian commanders for the startling lack of success. The initiative for both enterprises came from the Great Kings themselves and there seems to have been no question of any significant “power behind the throne”. Yet there is nothing particularly blame-worthy in their conduct of the two operations – apart from the undertaking itself. There comes a time in the history of every empire when expansion has gone far enough and stability and consolidation, if not retrenchment, are needed. The handful of Athenian and Eretrian ships that had abetted the Ionian revolt was a poor pretext for such a massive military and naval effort.
If we turn to Aeschylus’ play, we find some contrast between the characters of Darius and Xerxes. The Persae presents the story of Xerxes’ crest-fallen return to Persia after his defeat at Salamis. Darius’ ghost appears and denounces the folly which has led to the recent débâcle. Darius is stern and dignified; in contrast, Xerxes is petulant and ineffective. At first sight, Herodotus’ narrative might seem to confirm this estimate. One recalls the incident when high winds destroyed the first bridge which Xerxes had constructed over the Hellespont, whereupon Xerxes ordered that the rebellious waters should be whipped as a punishment for the outrage. But perhaps this was not mere childishness on his part. In his multinational host there were many simple tribesmen who knew nothing of the enlightened Zoroastrian religion of the Persians; thus, to restore morale, it was no doubt necessary to demonstrate that even the gods of the winds and the waves were subject to the Great Kings of Persia.
Again, we are inclined to regard Xerxes’ return to Susa, his remote capital, after the disaster of Salamis, as weak and cowardly. Mardonius, his general, seems to have been left callously to his fate in Greece. But the matter may be viewed quite differently. The success of the Persian kings lay very largely in their ability to delegate power. Cyrus, when he conquered Lydia, had delegated the completion of his conquest to his general Harpagus, and probably Mardonius was expected to complete the conquest of Greece in the same way. However, when all has been said, the delineation of character in Aeschylus’ play should not be lightly dismissed. Aeschylus was, after all, writing at a time very close to the events which he described and he cannot altogether have overlooked the reputations which Darius and Xerxes had earned for themselves among their contemporaries.
As for Mardonius, he was Darius’ son-in-law, and had commanded the Persian fleet when it met with disaster on the rocks off Mount Athos. Darius’ dissatisfaction with him is clear, for in the subsequent expedition which that monarch launched against Greece, Mardonius was not in command. Datis and Artaphernes were in charge of the fleet which sailed across the central Aegean to Eretria and Marathon. However, Mardonius was a man of no mean ability and his later reinstatement proves that he enjoyed Xerxes’ confidence. After Xerxes’ return to Persia, Mardonius tried by sensible diplomacy to divide the Greek states against one another before deciding to engage in battle with them. His chances of success in this diplomatic initiative were very good and with a little more perseverance he might have succeeded. But, cut off from supplies by sea, he perhaps had difficulty in feeding his large army and was accordingly under pressure to reach a decision with the utmost possible speed.
■ The Athenian Leadership
Among the Persian kings’ misfortunes must be counted the brilliance and resolution of individual Greek leaders pitted against them. Miltiades, whose courage and judgment won the battle of Marathon, was a colourful and adventurous character, whose uncle – of the same name – had in fascinating circumstances become king of a barbarian people in the Thracian Chersonese (the Gallipoli peninsula). By fair means and foul the younger Miltiades contrived to inherit his uncle’s dominion, but after the Ionian revolt there was no place for him in Persian-controlled Thrace and he took refuge in Athens. Here he was elected one of the ten generals who were responsible for the city’s policies, and in the crisis of 490 BC he persuaded Callimachus the polemarch, or commander-in-chief, to use his casting vote in favour of prompt military action. After this, the other generals were content to vest their powers in Miltiades.
Persian strategy, it would seem, aimed at keeping options open. A seaborne attack might be made on Athens from the south while the defenders were engaged at Marathon. Alternatively, the Greek army might be destroyed, thus opening up the land route. It might even have been possible, in view of the invaders’ numerical superiority, to combine the two. Miltiades seems to have sensed the Persians’ indecision and to have made a lightning attack at a psychological moment. The wings of his army had been reinforced, no doubt as a precaution against Persian cavalry. But cavalry was not used, probably because it was embarked on the ships when the Greek attack was made. The effect of Miltiades’ formation, however, was to roll up the opposed Persian wings and encircle the enemy centre, which had been temporarily victorious.
Carried forward by their enthusiasm, the Greeks now attacked the Persian ships. In doing this, they perhaps attempted too much and at this point Callimachus himself was killed. So Miltiades emerged as the hero of the hour. His strategy and tactics were no doubt inspired by a strong element of self-interest, for he wished to recover his power in the Thracian Chersonese. Certainly, when he obtained command of the Athenian fleet after the victory at Marathon he used his authority for personal ends in a campaign against supposed Persian sympathizers in Paros. He was prosecuted at Athens and died in prison in 489 BC of wounds received at Paros.
When Xerxes launched his invasion in 480 BC, Greece was again saved from Persian domination by a man of unusual character. Themistocles had been something of a rake when young, but he took to politics and placed his natural disingenuity at the service of the state. Like Miltiades before him, he had complete confidence in his own judgment and was able to compel the confidence of others. Like Miltiades, also, he was not nominally in command at the great victory of which he was the architect.
Themistocles was determined that a sea battle should be fought in the narrow straits between the island of Salamis and the main coast of Attica. But, dismayed by Persian success on land, his allies would gladly have dispersed, each to defend his own territories. The Greek leaders disputed bitterly among themselves and tempers were lost, until the Spartan admiral raised his staff in a threatening gesture. “Strike,” said Themistocles calmly, “but here me.” The Spartan heard him.
Even so, Themistocles mistrusted his allies and secretly planted an informer on the Persians with the intelligence that the Greek ships intended to make their escape from Salamis before it was too late. Xerxes promptly dispatched a naval force to block all exit from the straits. Dispersal was no longer possible and the Greek fleet in its entirety was obliged to fight where Themistocles wished it to make its stand.
Miltiades and Themistocles must for ever be remembered as the respective saviours of Greece in the two Persian invasions. But the Persian concession of freedom to the Ionian islands was in fact won by Cimon, the son of Miltiades. The question of Ionian liberty had, after all, been the original cause of war, even if later Athenian campaigns in the east were more obviously motivated by thoughts of the corn supply from Egypt and Cyprus.
Cimon was the victorious admiral in the battle off the mouth of the Eurymedon river in 466 BC. Previously, he had attacked Persian positions in Thrace and successfully eliminated a pirate stronghold in the island of Scyros. He died on active service in Cyprus a few years before the honourable and advantageous peace with Persia was reached. Unlike his father, he seems to have been incorruptible. His enemies, it is true, accused him of taking bribes from the Macedonian king, but he was acquitted of the charge. He cherished the ideal of a united Greece, which made him friendly towards Sparta. But the Spartans would not trust an Athenian and Cimon’s pro-Spartan sympathies made him unpopular in Athens, where he was a target for political attack.
■ The Spartan Heroes
In a glowing passage, Herodotus hails Athens as the champion and vindicator of Greek liberty. Indeed, Spartan hesitancy at crucial moments very nearly proved disastrous. Yet we must underestimate neither the Spartan war effort nor the Spartan leadership. Leonidas’ action at Thermopylae remained a model of heroism for Greece and for the world. Moreover, Leonidas was not only a hero: he was a thoughtful strategist. Reconnaissance soon proved that it would be futile to meet Xerxes in the comparatively open country north of Thessaly, so Leonidas chose Thermopylae as the strategic point at which Greek lives could be sold most dearly. The coastline has changed in the course of nearly two and half millennia; in 490 BC the defile between the cliffs and the sea was very narrow and the road ran through this defile. Xerxes pressed forward on that narrow front against 7,000 Greek heavy infantrymen, committing at this point his corps d’élite, the “Immortals”: so called because previously selected men waited to fill the place of casualties. Eventually, the Persians were shown a mountain path by which the Greek flank could be turned. Leonidas saw that he must either retreat to a hopeless position farther south or meet death at Thermopylae. He accordingly decided to send back the allies, while he and a few other Peloponnesians and 1,100 Boeotians continued their delaying action with a counter-attack. At last, overwhelmed by sheer numbers, Leonidas and his force perished to a man, thus putting Spartan military ideals quite literally into practice.
Leonidas, when he marched north, had not expected to return and had taken with him only those Spartans who had children to succeed them. In the nature of things, the children of fighting men in their prime are young, and Leonidas himself left a young child, Pleistarchus. The Spartan constitution recognized a curious dual kingship, but in practice one of their two kings was usually the dominant partner. Leonidas’ nephew Pausanias was appointed to act as regent during the minority of Pleistarchus; in this capacity Pausanias led the combined Greek forces to victory at the battle of Plataea, a year after Thermopylae. Pausanias’ triumph, following the victory at Salamis, contrasts with the events of the previous summer, when the Persian advance seemed irresistible. But, sadly, Pausanias’ character also contrasted with that of the selfless Leonidas. After the victory of Plataea, Pausanias aimed at personal domination throughout Greece. To this end, he intrigued with the Persians, his former enemies, and when the intrigue was detected by the Spartans he came to a miserable and inglorious end.
■ The Persian Fleet
No one who reads Herodotus’ narrative can underestimate the importance of the naval factor in the two Persian invasions. The Persians were an inland power and possessed no fleet of their own. It says all the more for the organizing ability of the Great Kings – Xerxes in particular – that they were able to muster such vast armadas. It also suggests that their knowledge of Greek seamanship and fighting power was such that they by no means despised the enemy with whom they had to deal.
The largest contingent of the Persian fleet consisted of Phoenician vessels, manned by Phoenician crews. Rather surprisingly, the Persians relied also upon ships and crews from the Greek Ionian cities which they had subjugated. Inevitably, they must have felt some doubts about the loyalty of the Greek contingents of their own fleet. On several occasions during the campaigns, the Ionian effort seems to have been half-hearted, and at the battle of Mycale the Ionian Greeks at last deserted their Persian overlords to aid their compatriots.
Artemisia, the Greek princess who ruled Halicarnassus (subject to Persian goodwill), was present herself on shipboard at the battle of Salamis, fighting on the Persian side. However, she seems to have joined either fleet as circumstances dictated at any particular moment, for when pursued by an Athenian vessel she deliberately rammed and sank another galley of her own contingent. The Athenians, thinking that she had changed sides, abandoned the pursuit and Artemisia made good her escape without further impediment.
The truth is possibly that Xerxes found it less risky to take the Ionian fleet with him than to leave it in his rear. On every ship there was a force of soldiers, either Persians, Medes or others whose loyalty was to be trusted. Persian commanders often took the place of local captains and Xerxes probably kept the leaders of the subject communities under his personal surveillance. Their position closely resembled that of hostages to the Persians.
Apart from the Phoenician and Greek naval contingents, there was in Xerxes’ fleet an Egyptian squadron which was to distinguish itself in the course of the fighting. We hear also of ships from Cyprus and Cilicia. Cyprus contained both Greek and Phoenician cities and the people of Cilicia were largely of Greek extraction. Whether the Cilicians felt any bond of sympathy with the Greeks of the mainland is another question, but only the links of empire united them with the Persians. The proportion of the total naval strength to that of the land army is recorded: the land forces, when counted by Xerxes at Doriscus in Thrace, were, according to Herodotus, 1,700,000 strong: the strength of the fleet is given with some precision as 1,207 vessels, not including transports.
■ The Structure of Ancient Ships
At this point something must be said of the construction of ancient ships in general and of ancient warships in particular. Mercantile and transport vessels were comparatively broad-beamed and correspondingly capacious. They had to depend on sails rather than oars if room was to be left for the cargo. The Greeks sometimes referred to them as “round ships”. By contrast, it may be remembered that the Latin for a warship was navis longa – a long ship. Throughout the ancient period which we are considering, warships were comparatively long and streamlined. They were built for speed and relied upon oars rather than sails. The Persians, in their two invasions, naturally needed both transports and warships.
The characteristic warship which developed about the time of the Persian Wars, and which was used in the battles with which we are concerned, was the trireme. This word is formed from the Latin; the Greek is trieres. The meaning is literally three-oared or triply furnished, but the reference is apparently to three banks of oars, which were ranged one above the other. At an earlier date, biremes, vessels of two oar-banks, were built. More common was the penteconter, a 50-oared galley with oars in a single bank. There were also triaconters, of 30 oars. Homeric ships had as few as 20.
Ancient ships, whether warships or transports, normally made use of single, square-rigged sails, and efficient performance required a following wind. Transports sometimes mounted two or, more rarely, three masts with a single yard and sail on each. Warships lowered their mast and sail before going into action. Steering was by means of two large paddles, one on either quarter. Battle tactics depended to a great extent on ramming the enemy, but boarding operations by heavily armed troops were also carried out and in this way prizes could be taken. Missiles were also used, although this method of fighting recommended itself more to the Persians than to the Greeks.
■ Persian Naval Strategy
It is interesting that Xerxes reverted to his father’s original plan and decided to invade Greece from the north. He must have considered that his channel through the Athos peninsula eliminated the main hazard of this route. Clearly, he could deploy a much larger army in Greece if his land forces could make their own way along the coast. At the same time, the fleet keeping pace on the army’s flank contained transports which considerably eased his supply problem. The land forces carried a good deal of their own baggage and equipment with the help of camels and other beasts of burden. These did not include horses. It was not customary in the ancient world to use horses for such purposes and it is noteworthy that Xerxes transported his horses by sea on special ships. Horseshoes were unknown in the ancient centres of civilization, and it is possible that the Persian cavalry might have reached Greece with lame mounts if their horses had been obliged to make the whole journey by land.
Warships were, of course, necessary to protect both the transports and the land forces. Without naval defence, the Persian army would have been exposed to the danger of Greek amphibious attacks on its flank and its rear. Moreover, it was Xerxes’ hope that he would crush any Greek naval units immediately, wherever he met them.
He met them first at Artemisium, on the northern promontory of Euboea. Several actions were fought there, with varying outcome. The Greek position was well chosen. In the narrow channel between the Euboean coast and the mainland, the Greeks could not be enveloped by superior numbers. At the same time, they guarded the flank of Leonidas’ forces at Thermopylae. If the Persians sailed round Euboea to attack them in the rear, then the Persian land forces would be separated from their seaborne support. What took the Greeks by surprise was the enormous size of Xerxes’ force, which despite all reports far exceeded their most pessimistic estimates. It was possible for Xerxes to send one section of his fleet round the south of Euboea while he engaged the Greeks at Artemisium with the remainder. Such a manoeuvre entailed no loss of numerical superiority on either front. But summer storms gathered over Thessaly and aided the Greeks. The very size of Xerxes’ fleet meant that there were not sufficient safe harbours to accommodate all the ships; a considerable part of it had to lie well out to sea in rough weather. In this way many ships were wrecked. When a squadron was dispatched to round Euboea and sail up the Ruripus strait, which divides the long island from the mainland, this contingent also fell victim to storms and treacherous currents. The task assigned to it was never carried out.
Quite apart from the figures given by Herodotus, events themselves testify to the huge size of the Persian armada. Despite the heavy losses suffered at Artemisium, Xerxes’ fleet still enjoyed the advantage of dauntingly superior numbers when, late in the same season, the battle of Salamis was fought. Even after Salamis, the number of surviving ships and crews was such that the Greek fleet at Mycale hesitated long before attacking them.
■ Greek Naval Units and Tactics
It is not easy to generalize about Greek naval tactics and techniques of shipbuilding, since these differed from state to state. The Peloponnesians, for instance, relied much more on boarding operations than did other Greeks. The Athenians, the greatest sea power, excelled particularly in use of the ram. In a Greek galley, the ram is formed by the forward tip of the keel, heavily armoured and built up to a point just above the water level. The bows of the vessel were constructed on the basis of the keel, just behind the ram. Apart from this, protruding from the prow, on a level with the rowing decks, were three armoured prongs. If the ram penetrated deep into an enemy ship below the water line, these came into contact with the upper part of the enemy’s hull, doing further damage. They also protected the prow of the attacker, and it is easy to see that they could be used with devastating effect on the enemy’s oars or steering paddles. It may be said that a war galley so constructed was less a ship with a ram mounted than a ship mounted on a ram.
Attack on the enemy’s oars and steering gear was sometimes a preliminary to ramming. In the manoeuvre known as diekplus, the attacking vessel swung sharply round the stern of its opponent, breaking oars and steering paddle on the way. It then circled back and rammed the crippled and helpless victim as it lay broadside on.
In order to ram, it was necessary to attack the enemy on his broadside, and this could also be achieved by the opportunism of weatherwise commanders. An enemy who was floundering, drifting or not in perfect command of his craft was an obvious target. In order to take advantage of a wind squall or choppy sea, the attacker himself needed to be well in control and unaffected by the elements. In other words, he needed superior seamanship and a ship that stood the sea better than the enemy’s. The Athenians, in particular, usually possessed both these advantages.
Tactics such as we have described are exemplified in the battle of Salamis, though there can have been little room for the practice of diekplus – which in any case could be frustrated by the adoption of close formations. The Phoenician vessels of the Persian fleet were built with higher sterns and decks than those of the Greeks, and the archers and javelin-throwers who manned them were ready to take full advantage of their superior position. On the other hand, the higher ships were less stable and less manageable in gusty weather. On the advice of Themistocles, the Greeks waited for an expected wind to rise before launching their attack. The battle was opened by a Greek ship which rammed a Phoenician, smashing its lofty poop. Congestion added to the difficulties of the invaders, and the narrow sleeve of water was soon strewn with their wrecked ships, broken oars, corpses and the debris of battle.
■ The Battle of Plataea
Let us now pass from consideration of the battle of Salamis to that other decisive victory of the war the land action fought at Plataea in the following year, 479 BC. Unlike Salamis, the battle of Plataea was won more by luck than judgment. Pausanias, the Spartan general in command of the Greek forces, was admittedly an astute strategist and tactician, who well appreciated the main strengths and weaknesses both of his own and of the enemy forces. But the same may be said of the Persian commander-in-chief, Mardonius. One may guess that Xerxes’ departure was an advantage to the Persians. Great organizer though the king was, he was no soldier.
At Plataea, each of the opposing commanders strove to draw the enemy into attacking his own well-chosen and strongly defended positions. Each saw the danger of initiating an attack upon such positions. But while each waited for the enemy to act first, neither could afford to wait indefinitely. The vast Persian army, deprived now of seaborne supplies, must sooner or later find difficulty in feeding itself on enemy territory. For Pausanias, the problem was tactical and immediate. He had chosen a position in the foothills of Mount Cithaeron; the Persian cavalry, when they issued from Mardonius’ stockaded camp across the Asopus river opposite, were driven off with heavy loss, including that of their commander. But Mardonius was too wise to commit his main force, and although his cavalry could not succeed on the mountainous ground which the Greek now occupied, it was able to interfere with their watering places and supplies.
Pausanias now took up another position. He led his army down into the plain, where a small cluster of hills protected him from a frontal cavalry charge. Mardonius still did not attack. The Greeks’ water and supply problem became ever more acute. Pausanias waited ten days, but could wait no longer. However, he kept his head admirably. He did not attempt to force a battle by attacking the Persian camp. Such a course would have been fatal, but even so, the alternative was not free from danger. He decided to withdraw by night to a position nearer his old one, where water would be available and supply lines less exposed. In the difficulty and confusion of the night march, which seemed to some of his officers like a demoralizing retreat, the units of the Greek force became separated from each other and lost contact.
On the following day, Mardonius saw the disorganization of the Greeks, but mistook it for something much more serious than it was. He had been encouraged to think that, given time, the Greek states and their military contingents would quarrel and abandon each other. He had, in fact, devoted much well-judged diplomacy and intrigue towards hastening this end. But in the present instance, Greek difficulties were tactical rather than political. When the Persians surged forward to what they thought would be an easy victory, they met determined resistance. The Spartan main body, although separated from the rest of the Greek army, was able to meet an infantry attack with the advantage of superior ground which impeded the use of the Persian cavalry. This was the occasion for which Pausanias had long waited and risked much. In savage fighting the Spartans overcame the enemy before them, killing Mardonius. Although they had no aptitude for attacking fortifications, they then assaulted the Persian camp. Here, they were fortunately rejoined by other Greek units, some of whom had just defeated the invaders’ Boeotian collaborators. The camp was at length taken and no quarter given to the defenders, only a few of whom escaped. Another, larger Persian force, whose commander had at the last moment been loath to follow Mardonius’ lead, was already on its way back to the Hellespont. The city of Thebes, which had led Boeotia in collaboration with the Persians, was captured after a short siege and its political leaders put to death. A vast amount of treasure, with part of which the Persians had hoped to buy provisionswithout the need of foraging, fell into Greek hands as a result of this victory.
■ Greek Arms and Armour
In the early historic period (eighth and seventh centuries BC), the shields used by Greek warriors were of various shapes and sizes. The evidence of lines written by the Spartan poet Tyrtaeus suggests that his contemporaries in the seventh century BC still used the long broad shield which protected thighs, shins, chest and shoulders, though some modern scholars think that we have here a fanciful allusion to earlier usage. Support for such long shields had been given by a strap which passed round the neck and over the shoulder. In addition to which there was a single grip for the left hand.
Well before the Persian Wars, a Greek warriors’ equipment and method of fighting had gone through a process of gradual but fundamental change. The role of the heavy infantryman or hoplite (Greek: hoplites) was now cardinal in warfare, and the hoplite owed much to his defensive armour. The round concave shield, which had now superseded other types, was about 3 feet (about 1m) in diameter. It was made of wood, reinforced or faced with bronze, and very often bore some emblazoned device comparable to the armorial bearings of the Middle Ages. On its inner concave surface, the hoplite’s shield usually had two brackets, through one of which the forearm passed, while the other was gripped by the hand.
Above the flat broad rim of his shield, a hoplite’s head was well protected by a bronze helmet. The type known as the “Corinthian” helmet could be pulled forward in battle so that it vizored the face, while allowing for eye slits and breathing spaces for nose and mouth. Out of battle it could be pushed to the back of the head, leaving the face uncovered. This is the position in which it most frequently appears in sculpture, vase paintings and coins. There were, however, more complicated types of helmet, by no means uncommon, with moveable visors and cheekpieces. Helmets were frequently surmounted by crescent horsehair plumes, usually in the “fore-and-aft” plane.
Since the round shield used by the hoplite did not cover him below the knee, he also required leg protection, and this was provided by greaves (shin-guards). Thus the Greek heavy infantry remained effectively armoured from head to foot.
The chief offensive weapon of the Greek hoplite was his long lance, up to 9 feet (about 3m) in length. Unlike the Homeric spears, these lances were used only for thrusting, not for throwing, and they were tipped with iron. The hoplite also carried a short cut-and-thrust sword.
By contrast with the hoplite, Greek cavalrymen, who were few in number, wore no armour and carried no shield. Their weapons were spears or javelins, of which they sometimes carried two or more. They were recruited from the ranks of the wealthy, for only rich men could afford horses.2 Often they wore broad-brimmed hats, as a protection against the elements rather than against the enemy. The Greeks ordinarily rode bare-back or used only a saddle cloth. They had no stirrups and no horseshoes.
In addition to heavy infantry and their meagre cavalry, Greek armies also contained light-armed troops. These were called ‘peltasts’ (peltastai) from the pelte or light shield which they carried. They were armed with a bundle of javelins, and they were used mainly for scouting, reconnaissance or raiding: anything that might involve hit-and-run tactics. They were not expected to sustain a heavy attack.
The Greeks also used archers with their light troops, and at a later date bowmen were sometimes mounted. A standing force of archers at Athens was used for police duties, but these were Scythian slaves bought at public expense from northern Greece. The most celebrated Greek archers were the Cretans, but the latter did not participate in the Persian Wars.
■ Hoplite Tactics
Greek hoplite tactics may be regarded either as the outcome or the determinant of hoplite arms and armour. The word phalanx, which was used by Homer (almost always in the plural) to denote the rank and file of the army, in classical times was applied especially to the dense formation adopted by the hoplites. There was a steady tendency for the formation to increase in depth, but in Xenophon’s time it was four ranks deep; this may be taken as normal in the fifth century BC. In this formation, the long lances of the rear rank could project beyond the shields of the front rank to confront the enemy. As the number of ranks in the phalanx increased, so did the length of the lances.
It has often been suggested that the role of the rear ranks was mainly to add weight and that an ancient Greek battle was very much like a modern rugger scrum, with both sides pushing until one gave way. Long lances can hardly have been used with this sort of struggle in mind. To the rear ranks in particular, they would have been merely an impediment. Nevertheless, it is quite likely that battles often developed into this kind of conquest. The lance-heads of classical times, unlike the weapons of some ancient peoples, were of mild steel rather than soft iron; by modern standards they were far from being well-tempered and it is probable that they were often unable to penetrate the wall of defensive bronze armour opposed to them. In such case, the “scrum” situation naturally arose. Where it was impossible to cut or force a way through the enemy’s line, one hoped simply to push it over.
In close order, every shield protected not only its user’s left side but also the right side and lance arm of his neighbour. Once formation was broken, this advantage was lost; the army which broke an enemy formation while preserving its own had won a battle. Once its own formation had been broken, an army usually took to flight. The hoplite who wished to escape by running was obliged to throw away his ponderous shield, and the word ripsaspis, literally “one who throws away his shield”, still means a deserter, even in modern Greek. Horace, writing in the first century BC, confesses to having thrown away his shield when he fought for Brutus and Cassius at the battle of Philippi. His frankness was presumably encouraged by the examples of early Greek poets who, in several surviving instances, plead guilty to the same offence.
In many ancient battles, there was a disproportion between the gruesome casualties of the defeated army and the trifling losses sustained by the victors. This is because the main carnage occurred not in the battle itself but in the massacre of fugitive, which followed. Spartans were not expected to run away. They were exhorted to return either with their shields or upon them – for Tyrtaeus’ Spartan shields could be used conveniently as biers. The heavily armed hoplite was, of course, unable to overtake a fleeing enemy who had discarded his cumbersome shield; this was another role for cavalry and light troops.
Exceptions there will always be. Spartans sometimes ran away and shields were sometimes jettisoned by the pursuers as well as the pursued. In this way, Aristomenes, the Messenian leader, once lost his shield in the moment of triumph over his Spartan enemies. He recovered the lost property later, with some difficulty and in curious circumstances. The reader is referred to Pausanias’ Description of Greece (4.16.6).
■ Persian Arms and Equipment
Herodotus describes the arms and equipment of Xerxes’ army in some detail. The Persians themselves wore floppy felt hats, tunics and armour exhibiting a surface of fishlike iron scales, and trousers. They carried wicker shields. Their weapons were large bows, short spears and daggers which were suspended from the belts on the right-hand side. Thus equipped, they might or might not be mounted. Persian armies generally relied upon the large numbers of their horsemen and bowmen.
Apart from the Persians themselves, Herodotus gives particulars of the other national contingents which the Persian kings were able to mobilize, although the statistics on which he based his information may have referred to the potential fighting strength of the entire Persian Empire rather than to Xerxes’ expeditionary force, gigantic though this force unquestionably was. We hear of Assyrians and others with bronze helmets; but in general, the Asiatics were protected only by various kinds of soft headgear and they seem to have worn no substantial body armour. Apart from daggers, bows and arrows, their weapons included iron-spiked clubs, axes and lassoes.
Cavalrymen – especially cavalry officers – may have worn more protective armour. Masistius, the Persian cavalry commander who was killed in the early stages of the Plataea campaign, wore gold scale armour under his scarlet surcoat. When his horse was hit by an arrow, he defended himself vigorously on foot and could not be brought down by body blows. At last, the Athenians who surrounded him guessed the secret and struck at his face.
Persian archers, both mounted and unmounted, carried their arrows in a quiver slung on the hip. This practice differed from that of the Greek archers whose quivers were slung on their backs. The hip position was no doubt more expeditious when there was a requirement for rapid fire.
Herodotus refers to the war chariots of the Indian contingent, but there is no mention of these chariots being used in the fighting. Persian kings normally went to war in chariots, which were also employed by the Persians for hunting. The Greeks of the classical period used chariots only for sporting events. Generally speaking, by the time of the Persian Wars the war chariot had been replaced by the man on horseback. The change had no doubt been brought about by the improved efficiency of horses’ bits, which made it easier for the rider to control his steed.
■ Causes of Greek Victory
Herodotus pays a tribute to the heroism and physical strength of the Persian infantry. He makes it quite plain that in their hand-to-hand struggle with the hoplite forces of the Greeks at Plataea they were defeated as a result of their inferior arms and equipment. In its final stages, the battle of Plataea amounted almost to a fight between armed and unarmed men. This, however, does not detract from the merit of the Greeks, who needed to be skilled in the use of their weapons and well practised in military manoeuvres. The Persians, as Herodotus remarks, possessed no such skill and fought in disorder.
It must also be stressed that, throughout both Persian invasions, the Greeks were fortunate in their generals, who managed brilliantly to turn the decisive battles into infantry engagements, in which the effect of Persian numbers, cavalry and archers was neutralized.
Apart from the question of weapon training, the Greeks owed much to robust physical fitness, the product of their athletic habits. The life of Spartan citizens was dedicated to military training; the Spartan state was a war machine and nothing else. But for sheer stamina the performance of the Athenian hoplites at Marathon is commemorated every time we speak of a “Marathon race”. This indefatigable force advanced nearly a mile to the attack, at the quick step, each man in armour weighing about 70lbs (32kg). After hard fighting, in which they routed the Persian infantry and assaulted the Persian ships, they hurried back more than 20 miles (33km) to Athens and prepared to resist another landing. Before the battle, the Athenian runner Pheidippides had covered the 152 miles (245km) between Athens and Sparta in two days in a vain attempt to summon timely help. It is also pertinent to note that the Olympic Games included a hoplite event which was run in armour, or at any rate with a heavy hoplite shield on the arm.
One must not overlook the psychological aspect of the struggle. Greek resistance was inspired; yet one may wonder if the inspiration was really drawn from patriotism. The Thessalians in the north, who had no hope of active support from other Greek states, understandably collaborated with Xerxes. The Boeotians, led by Thebes, can perhaps be excused for doing the same, since the Peloponnesians, dominated by Sparta, wished to defend themselves by building a wall across the Isthmus of Corinth and abandoning northern Greece to its fate. This they would certainly have done, had it not been for the threat of Athens to withdraw her fleet. The Athenians, as Herodotus admiringly proclaims, provided the true rallying point for Greek patriotism.
Yet the Athenians themselves were a prey to “fifth column” activities. Hippias, the son of Pisistratus, once a benevolent despot at Athens and later an exile at the Persian court, accompanied Darius’ fleet in the hope of reinstatement, and there is reason to believe that, just about this time, the powerful aristocratic clan of the Alcmaeonidae, which had connived at Hippias’ exile but was now disgusted at democratic developments in Athens, was preparing to collaborate with the Persian invading army.
The true inspiration of Greek resistance was, perhaps, liberty rather than patriotism. But liberty is an equivocal ideal. Too often it means the liberty to impose one’s own will upon others. And this is what it came to mean among the Greeks, as the following chapters show.
REFERENCES
1 The ambassador was Aristagoras, the Greek autocrat who then ruled Miletus, subject to the authority of the Persian king.
2 Aristocratic horsemen, it would seem, sometimes rode to war fully armed, but fought dismounted as hoplites. This is reminiscent of Homeric chariot tactics.