Historical Tales [calibre 5.4.1]
- Автор: Morris Charles
- Год: 1893
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: История
Электронная книга - «Historical Tales [calibre 5.4.1]». Краткое содержание книги:
Historical Tales - Greek
Historical Tales - Roman
Historical Tales - English
Historical Tales - French
Historical Tales - German
Historical Tales - American I
Historical Tales - American II
Historical Tales - Spanish
Historical Tales - Spanish American
Historical Tales - Scandinavian
Historical Tales - Japanese
Historical Tales - Russian
Meanwhile Timoleon put down the other despots of Sicily and set the cities free. Hicetas, his old enemy, was forced to give up his control of Leontini, to which he had retired on the loss of Syracuse. But the snake retained his venom. The Carthaginians were furious at the flight of their fleet. Hicetas stirred them up to another invasion of the liberated island.
How long they were in preparing for this expedition we do not know, but it was made on a large scale. An army of seventy thousand men landed on the western corner of the island, brought thither by a fleet of two hundred triremes and one thousand transports. In the army were ten thousand heavy-armed Carthaginians, who carried white shields and wore elaborate breastplates. Among these were many of the rich men of Carthage, who brought with them costly baggage and rich articles of gold and silver. Twenty-five hundred of them were called the Sacred Band of Carthage. That great city had rarely before made such a determined effort at conquest.
Timoleon was not idle in the face of this great invasion. But the whole army he could muster was but twelve thousand strong, a pitiable total to meet so powerful a foe. And as he marched to meet the enemy distrust and fear marched in his ranks. Such was the dread that one division of the army, one thousand strong, mutinied and deserted, and it needed all his personal influence to keep the rest together.
Yet Timoleon had in him the spirit that commands success. He pushed on with his disheartened force until near the river Crimesus, beyond which was encamped the great army of Carthage. Some mules laden with parsley met the Corinthians on the road. Parsley was used for the wreaths laid on tombstones. It seemed a fatal omen. But Timoleon, with the quickness of genius, seized some of it, wove a wreath for his head, and cried, "This is our Corinthian symbol of victory: it is the sacred herb with which we decorate the victors at the Isthmian festival. Its coming signifies success." With these encouraging words he restored the spirits of the army, and led them on to the top of the hill overlooking the Crimesus.
It was a misty May morning. Nothing could be seen; but from the valley a loud noise and clatter arose. The Carthaginians were on the march, and had begun to cross the stream. Soon the mist rose and the formidable host was seen. A multitude of war-chariots, each drawn by four horses, had already crossed. The ten thousand native Carthaginians, bearing their white shields, were partly across. The main body of the host was hastening in disorderly march to the rugged banks of the stream.
Fortune had favored Timoleon again. If he hoped for success this was the moment to attack. The enemy was divided and in disorder. With cheery words he bade his men to charge. The cavalry dashed on in front. Seizing a shield, Timoleon sprang to the front and led on his footmen, rousing them to activity by exultant words and bidding the trumpets to sound. Rushing down the hill and through the line of chariots, the charging mass poured on the Carthaginian infantry. These fought bravely and defied the Grecian spears with the strength of their armor. The assailants had to take to their swords, and try and hew their way through the dense ranks of the foe.
The result was in serious doubt, when once more the gods—as it seemed—came to Timoleon's aid. A violent storm suddenly arose. Darkness shrouded the hill-tops. The wind blew a hurricane. Rain and hail poured down in torrents, while the clouds flashed with lightning and roared with thunder. And all this was on the backs of the Greeks; in the faces of the Carthaginians. They could not hear the orders of their officers. The ground became so muddy that many of them slipped and felclass="underline" and once down their heavy armor would not let them rise again. The Greeks, driven forward by the wind, attacked their foes with double energy. At length, blinded by the driving storm, distracted by the furious assault, and four hundred of their front ranks fallen, the white shield battalion turned and fled.
But flight was not easy. They met their own troops coming up. The stream had become suddenly swollen with the rain. In the confused flight numbers were drowned. The panic spread from rank to rank until the whole host was in total rout, flying wildly over the hills, leaving their camp and baggage to the victors, who pursued and slaughtered them in thousands as they fled.
Such a complete victory had rarely been won. Ten thousand Carthaginians were killed and fifteen thousand made prisoners, their war chariots were captured, and the spoil found in the camp and on the track of the flying army was prodigiously great. As for the Sacred Band, it was annihilated. The story is told that it was slain to a man. The broken remnants of the flying army hastened to their ships, which they were half afraid to enter, for fear the gods that helped Timoleon would destroy them on the seas. And thus was Sicily freed.
The thousand deserters who had left Timoleon's army on its march were ordered by him to leave the island at once. They did so, crossed the Strait of Messina, and took possession of a site in southern Italy, where they were attacked by the people and every man of them slain. As regards the concluding events of our story, it will suffice to say that Timoleon had other fighting to do, with Carthaginians and despots; but his wonderful fortune continued throughout, and before long Sicily held not an enemy in arms.
And now came the greatest triumph of the Corinthian victor. One master alone remained in Sicily,—himself. Despotic power was his had he said the word. The people warmly requested him to retain his control. But no; he had come to free them from tyranny, and free they should be. He laid down at once all his power, gave up the command of the army, and went to live as a private citizen of Syracuse, without office or power.
A single dominion yet remained to him,—that of affection. The people worshipped him. His voice was law. As he grew older his sight failed, until he became totally blind. Yet still, when any difficult question arose, the people trusted to their sightless benefactor to tell them what to do. On such occasions Timoleon would be brought in his car, drawn by mules across the market-place, and then by attendants into the hall of assembly. Here, still seated in his car, he would listen to the debate, and in the end give his own opinion, which was usually accepted by nearly the whole assembly. This done, the car would be drawn out again amid shouts and cheers, and the blind "father of his country" return to his modest home.
Such liberty and prosperity as now ruled in Sicily had not for a century been known, and when, three or four years after the great victory of the Crimesus, Timoleon suddenly died, the grief of the people was universal and profound. His funeral, obsequies were splendidly celebrated at the public cost, his body was burned on a vast funeral pile, and as the flames flashed upward a herald proclaimed,—
"The Syracusan people solemnize, at the cost of two hundred minæ, the funeral of this man, the Corinthian Timoleon, son of Timodemus. They have passed a vote to honor him for all future time with festival matches in music, horse and chariot races, and gymnastics; because, after having put down the despots, subdued the foreign enemy, and recolonized the greatest among the ruined cities, he restored to the Sicilian Greeks their constitution and laws."
And thus died one of the noblest and most successful men the world has ever known. The fratricide of his earlier years was for the good of mankind, and his whole life was consecrated to the cause of human liberty, while not a thought of self-aggrandizement seems to have ever disturbed his noble soul.
The Sacred War
There were two places in Greece which had been set aside as sacred, Platæa, the scene of the final defeat of the Persian invaders, and Delphi, the seat of the great temple of Apollo, in whose oracles all Greece placed faith. We have already seen how little the sacredness of Platæa protected it from ruin. We have next to see how the sacredness of Delphi was contemned, and how all Greece suffered in consequence.