Callias: A Tale of the Fall of Athens Part 23

[75] The legend was that Poseidon and Athene contended together for the honor of being the patron Deity of Attica. This was to be adjudged to the Power which should present it with the most useful gift. Poseidon struck the ground with his trident, and produced the horse; Athene bade the olive spring forth, and was judged to have surpa.s.sed her rival.

Reference is made to this legend in the most beautiful of the choral odes of Sophocles, the "Praise of Colonas" in the second of the two plays in the Story of Oedipus.

CHAPTER XXV.

BUSINESS AND PLEASURE.

Its religious obligations discharged, for the games, as has been already said, were regarded as a service of thanksgiving for deliverance, the army turned its attention to secular affairs. One indispensable duty, one curiously characteristic, by the way, of the Greek soldier's temper of mind, was to call the generals to account. For a Greek soldier, even when he was selling his sword to the highest bidder, never forgot that he was a citizen, and that as a citizen he had the right of satisfying himself that his superiors had done their duty with due care and with integrity. The Ten Thousand accordingly put aside for the time their military character, and resolved themselves into a civil a.s.sembly. Their generals were no longer the commanding officers to whom they owed an unhesitating obedience, but the magistrates who had just completed their term of office, and had now to render their accounts[76] to those who had elected them.

The meeting of the army, perhaps I should rather say the a.s.sembly, was held on the same ground which had served for a race course. One by one the officers were called to answer for themselves. With many, indeed, the proceeding was purely formal. The name was called, and the man stepped forward on a platform which had been erected where it could be best seen by the whole meeting. If no one appeared to make a complaint or to ask a question, the soldiers gave him a round of applause, if I may use the word of the noise made by clas.h.i.+ng their spears against their s.h.i.+elds; this was a verdict of acquittal and the officer retired with a bow. And this was what commonly happened. After all, the leaders had, on the whole, done their duty sufficiently well; there was proof of that in the simple fact that such a meeting was being held. But all did not escape so easily. If, indeed, only a few voices of dissatisfaction were heard, the matter was not pushed any further. When the second appeal was made by the malcontents, they, seeing that they were not supported by their comrades, preferred to keep silence. The man would, in all probability, be their officer again and he would not be likely to think pleasantly of any one who had accused him. But where, on the other hand, there was anything like an agreement of dissatisfied voices, the complainants took courage to come forward, and the examination was proceeded with in earnest. One officer had had charge of some of the property of the army; there was a deficiency in his accounts and he was fined twenty himal[77] to make it good. Another was accused of carelessness in his duties as leader, and had to pay half this sum. Then came the _cause celebre_, as it may be called, of the day, the trial of Xenophon himself. Xenophon was generally popular with the army, as, indeed, he could scarcely fail to be, considering all that he had done for it; but he had enemies. The mere fact of his being an Athenian made him an object of dislike to some; others, as will be seen, he had been compelled to offend in the discharge of his duty.

"Xenophon, the son of Gryllus," shouted the herald at the top of his voice.

The Athenian stepped on to the platform.

An Arcadian soldier, Nicharchus by name, came forward and said, "I accuse Xenophon the Athenian of violence and outrage."

A few voices of a.s.sent were heard throughout the meeting; and some half dozen men came forward to support the the prosecutor. Accuser and accused were now confronted.

"Of what do you accuse me?" asked Xenophon.

"Of wantonly striking me," replied the man.

"When and where did you suffer these blows?"

"After we had crossed the Euphrates, when there was a heavy fall of snow."

"I remember. You are right. The weather was terrible; our provisions had run out; the wine could not so much as be smelt; many men were dropping down, half dead with fatigue; the enemy were close upon our heels. Were not these things so?"

"It is true. Things were as bad as you say, or even worse."

"You hear," said Xenophon, turning to the a.s.sembly, "how we were situated, and indeed, seeing that you suffered these things yourself, you are not likely to forget them. Verily; if in such a condition of things, I struck this man wantonly and without cause, you might fairly count me more brutal than an a.s.s. But say--" he went on, addressing himself again to his accuser, "was there not a cause for my beating you?"

"Yes, there was a cause," the fellow sullenly admitted.

"Did I ask you for something, and strike you because you refused to give it?"

"No."

"Did I demand payment for a debt, and lose my temper because the money was not forthcoming?"

"No."

"Was I drunken?"

"No."

"Tell me now; are you a heavy-armed soldier?"

"No; I am not."

"Are you a light-armed then?"

"No; nor yet a light-armed."

"What were you doing then?"

"I was driving a mule."

"Being a slave?"

"Not so; I am free; but my commander compelled me to drive it."

A light broke in upon Xenophon. He had had a general recollection of the occasion, but could not remember the particular incident. Now it all came back to him.

"Ah," he cried, "I remember; it was you who were carrying the sick man?"

"Yes," the man confessed, "I did so, by your compulsion; and a pretty mess was made of the kit that I had upon the mule's back."

"Nay, not so; the men carried the things themselves, and nothing was lost. But hear the rest of the story," he went on, turning to the a.s.sembly, "and, indeed it is worth hearing. I found a poor fellow lying upon the ground, who could not move a step further. I knew the man, and knew him as one who had done good service. And I compelled you, sir,"

addressing Nicharchus, "to carry him. For if I mistake not, the enemy were close behind us."

The Arcadian nodded a.s.sent.

"Well then; I sent you forward with your burden, and after a while, overtook you again, when I came up with the rear-guard. You were digging a trench in which to bury the man. I thought it a pious act, and praised you for it. But, lo! while I was speaking, the dead man, as I thought he was, twitched his leg. 'Why he's alive,' the bystanders cried out.

'Alive or dead, as he pleases,' you said, 'but I am not going to carry him any further.' Then I struck you. I acknowledge it. It seemed to me that you were going to bury the poor fellow alive."

"Well," said the Arcadian, "you won't deny, I suppose, that the man died after all."

"Yes," replied Xenophon, "he died, I acknowledge. We must all die some day; but, meanwhile, there is no reason why we should be buried alive."

The man hung his head and said nothing.

"What say you, comrades?" cried Xenophon.

One of the oldest men in the ranks got up and said, "If Xenophon had given the scoundrel a few more blows he had done well."

A deafening clash of swords and spears followed, and the verdict was accepted.

The other complainants were now called to state the particulars of their grievances. Dismayed by the reception which their spokesman had met with, they remained silent, one and all. Xenophon then entered upon a general defence of his conduct.

"Comrades," he said, "I confess that I have many times struck men for want of discipline. These were men who, leaving others to provide for their safety, thought only of their own gain. While we were fighting they would leave their place in the ranks to plunder, and so enriched themselves at our expense. Some also I have struck, when I found them playing the coward and ready to give themselves helplessly up to the enemy. Then I forced them to march on, and so saved their lives. For I know, having once myself sat down in a sharp frost, while I was waiting for my comrades, how loath one is to rise again. Therefore, for their sake, I raised them even with blows, as I should myself wish, were I so found, to be raised. Others also have I struck whom I found straggling behind that they might rest. I struck them for your sake, for they were hindering both you that were in front, and us that were behind, and I struck them for their own sake. For verily it was a lighter thing to have a blow with the fist from me than a spear's thrust from the enemy.

Of a truth, if they are able to stand up now to accuse me, it is because I saved them thus. Had they fallen into the enemy's hand, what satisfaction would they be able to get, even if their wrongs were ten times worse than that Nicharchus complains of? No," he went on, "my friends, I have done nothing more to any one than what a wise father does to his child, or a good physician does to his patient. You see how I behave myself now. I am in better case; I fare better; I have food and wine in plenty. Yet I strike no one. Why? Because there is no need; because we have weathered the storm, and are in smooth water. I need no more defence; you have, I see, acquitted me. Yet I cannot forbear to say that I take it ill that this accusation has been made. You remember the times when I had for your good to incur your dislike; but the times when I eased the burden of storm or winter for any of you, when I beat off an enemy, when I ministered to you in sickness or in want, these no one remembers--" and here the speaker's voice half broke, partly with real emotion, partly at the suggestion of the orator's art. A thrill of sympathy ran through the audience. "And you forget," he went on, "that I never failed to praise the doer of any n.o.ble deed, or to do such honor as I could, to the brave, living or dead. Yet, surely it were more n.o.ble, more just, more after the mind of the G.o.ds, a sweeter and kindlier act, to treasure the memory of the good than to cherish these hateful thoughts."

When the speaker sat down, there was nothing that he might not have obtained from his comrades.