The Story of Greece and Rome for boys and girls
- Автор: Macgregor Mary
- Год: 1914
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Зарубежная литература для детей
Электронная книга - «The Story of Greece and Rome for boys and girls». Краткое содержание книги:
The Story of Greece: Told to Boys and Girls от Mary Macgregor
The Story of Rome, From the Earliest Times to the Death of Augustus, Told to Boys and Girls от Mary Esther Miller MacGregor
‘Call no man happy until he dies,’ replied the wise man, ‘for who knows what pains the gods may yet have in store for him while he lives.’
Croesus was yet to learn the truth of what Solon said. For in days to come Cyrus, King of Persia, seized his city, took him prisoner, and condemned him to be burned to death.
As he was being bound to the pyre, Croesus remembered the words of the Athenian, and he cried aloud three times, ‘O Solon, Solon, Solon.’
The King of Persia had never heard of Solon, and he asked on what strange god his prisoner was calling.
‘On no god,’ answered the miserable man, ‘but on one whom I would that all tyrants might meet and converse with.’ He then told Cyrus how Solon had said no one need count himself happy while he lived, as he could not know what misfortunes the gods had yet in store for him.
Already the pyre had been set alight, but Cyrus, struck by the words he had heard and thinking that he did not know what fate might yet befall himself, ordered Croesus to be set free.
But the flames had blazed up fiercely, and no one could quench the fire. Then Croesus besought Apollo to help him, and lo! the sky which had been clear grew dark, and a heavy downfall of rain soon extinguished the flames.
‘Thus,’ says Plutarch, who tells this story, ‘Solon had the glory by the same saying to save one king and instruct another.’
CHAPTER XXXI
THE ATHENIANS TAKE SALAMIS
Salamis, an island lying about a mile from both Athens and Megara, was in the hands of the Megarians. Its position between the two States made it an important one. So the Athenians determined to proclaim war against the Megarians and try to win Salamis for themselves.
But the war dragged on so long that the Athenians grew weary, and although the Megarians still held the island they longed for the war to end. The poor soldiers wished to go home to plough their fields, the rich wished to escape from the hardships of the camp to their own comfortable homes.
So at length peace was made, and a law was passed by the Athenians forbidding any one either to say or to write, upon pain of death, that Athens ought still to try to win Salamis.
There were many citizens both indignant and ashamed that such a law had been passed, yet lest they should be put to death they did not dare to say what they thought.
Solon was away from Athens when this law was passed, and when he came back from his journey and found that peace had been made while Salamis was still in the hands of the Megarians, he was much displeased.
Some time had passed since peace had been made, and Solon knew that the Megarians were not now as strong as they had been when the Athenians gave up fighting. So he determined that he would rouse his countrymen to try again to capture the island. Yet what could he do? He would be put to death if he defied the law, which said that no one must say or write that Athens ought still to try to win Salamis.
At length he hit on a strange plan. He pretended that he was mad, and persuaded his own family to spread the report that this terrible fate had befallen him. He then wrote some verses, learned them by heart, and ran toward the market-place, a cap upon his head. In those days a cap was worn by a man only if he were ill.
Solon soon attracted as much attention as he had hoped to do by his strange gestures and by the words he shouted.
As the people crowded round him he jumped on to the platform from which heralds were used to announce important tidings, and began to recite the verses he had written.
‘I came myself as a herald from lovely Salamis, but with song on my lips instead of common speech,’ so began the poem. It then went on to blame those who wished no longer to fight, and bade them ‘Arise and come to Salamis to win that fair island and undo our shame.’
As the people listened they forgot that they had believed Solon was mad, and their hearts were stirred by his words.
From that day so strong became the desire of the people to blot out their disgrace and win Salamis, that the law which had so displeased Solon was repealed. No one had thought of punishing the man who had broken it.
The Athenian forces were again mustered; Solon himself being made commander of the troops. His cousin Pisistratus went with him to battle, and it was he who succeeded in taking the port of Salamis.
In those days Athens had no fleet. Solon sailed toward Salamis in a ship, but his army followed him in a number of fishing-boats.
When the Megarians caught sight of the Athenian ship, they sent one of their own vessels to find out the strength of the enemy’s fleet.
Solon managed to capture this ship, and all on board were taken prisoners. The captured vessel was then manned with Athenians, and the men were ordered to sail slowly and quietly to the island.
Solon meanwhile reached the shore and, landing with his army, at once attacked the Megarians. While the fight still raged, the ship manned by Athenians sailed unnoticed to the port. The soldiers leaped to the ground, sped swiftly to the city, and took it almost before the citizens were aware of the presence of the enemy.
The island was soon in the hands of the triumphant Athenians, by whom it was held for many long years, until indeed Philip of Macedon conquered Greece.
To celebrate the victory in after years, an Athenian ship used to sail to the island just as the victorious one had done on the actual battle day. When it reached the shore, a soldier, armed as though for battle, jumped to the ground, and with a loud shout ran toward the city, where he was met and welcomed by his countrymen.
Close to the spot where Solon won this victory a temple was built and dedicated to the god of battle.
CHAPTER XXXII
PISISTRATUS BECOMES TYRANT
Solon did not expect the laws he made to please each of the three parties in Attica. So he was not greatly surprised that while the Plain and the Coast were more or less content, the Hill was dissatisfied and even rebellious.
Pisistratus wished to help the Hill folk, who were shepherds and herdsmen, and he hoped at the same time to fulfil his own ambition, which was to become tyrant of Athens.
Solon did not think that it was good for the State to have a tyrant at its head. He warned the people again and again that Pisistratus would take away their freedom. But it was in vain that he spoke, no one would listen to him.
One day as Pisistratus drove in a chariot to the market-place, the citizens saw to their horror that he had been wounded. They crowded round his chariot begging to be told what had happened. This was what Pisistratus wished. He pointed to his wounds, telling them that the men of the Plain had attacked him, because he was defending the rights of the poor Hill folk. But Pisistratus was deceiving the people, for he had given himself these wounds that he might gain the sympathy of the people and be voted a bodyguard.
Lest he should be killed outright by his enemies, the citizens agreed that he should have a guard of fifty clubsmen.
At first Pisistratus seemed content with his guard, but after a time he began to add to its number now one, then another, until he knew that he was strong enough to defy his enemies. He then seized the Acropolis and soon made himself master of the State.
The leaders of the Plain and the Shore were forced to flee, and the people, in spite of the warnings of Solon, were amazed at the cunning and the boldness Pisistratus had shown.
Solon himself felt that all he had done for the State was undone when a tyrant ruled at Athens.
Old as he now was, he was brave enough to go to the market-place to upbraid the citizens for their folly in having allowed Pisistratus to deceive them, and to beg them not to lose their freedom without a struggle. ‘You might with ease,’ he said, ‘have crushed the tyrant in the bud; but nothing now remains but to pluck him up by the roots.’