Anabasis by Xenophon - Book 6, Part 1

Book Six. Part One of Xenophon's Anabasis. Anabasis by Xenophon. Translated by H. G. Dawkins. Book Six. Part One. NUMBER ONE After this, whilst waiting, they lived partly on supplies from the market, partly on the fruit of raids into Paphalagonia. The Paphalagonians, on their side, showed much skill in kidnapping stragglers wherever they could lay hands on them, and in the night time tried to do mischief to those whose quarters were at a distance from the camp. The result was that their relations to one another were exceedingly hostile, so much so that Coryllas, who was the chief of Paphalagonia at that date, sent ambassadors to the Hellenes, bearing horses and fine apparel, and charged with a proposal on the part of Coryllas to make terms with the Hellenes on the principle of mutual forbearance from injuries. The generals replied that they would consult with the army about the matter. Meanwhile, they gave them a hospitable reception, to which they invited certain members of the army whose claims were obvious. They sacrificed some of the captive cattle and other sacrificial beasts, and with these they furnished forth a sufficiently festal entertainment, and, reclining on their truckle-beds, fell to eating and drinking out of beakers made of horn, which they happened to find in the country. But as soon as the libation was ended, and they had sung the hymn, up got first some Thracians, who performed a dance under arms to the sound of a pipe, leaping high into the air with much nimbleness and brandishing their swords, till at last one man struck his fellow, and every one thought he was really wounded, so skillfully and artistically did he fall, and the Paphalagonians screamed out. Then he that gave the blow stripped the other of his arms, and marched off chanting the Sitalchus, whilst others of the Thracians bore off the other, who lay as if dead, though he had not received even a scratch. After this, some Anianians and Magnesians got up and fell to dancing the Carpea, as it is called under arms. This was the manner of the dance. One man lays aside his arms and proceeds to drive a yoke of oxen, and while he drives, he sows, turning about him frequently, as though he were afraid of something. Up comes a cattle-lifter, and no sooner does the plowman catch sight of him afar, than he snatches up his arms and confronts him. They fight in front of his team, and all in rhythm to the sound of the pipe. At last the robber binds the countryman and drives off the team, or sometimes the cattle-driver binds the robber, and then he puts him under the yoke beside the oxen, with his two hands tied behind his back, and off he drives. After this, a Mycenaean came in, with a light shield in either hand, and danced, at one time going through a pantomime, as if he were dealing with two assailants at once, at another plying his shields, as if to face a single foe, and then again he would whirl about and throw somersaults, keeping the shields in his hands, so that it was a beautiful spectacle. Last of all, he danced the Persian dance, clashing the shields together, crouching down on one knee, and springing up again from the earth, and all this he did in measured time to the sound of the flute. After him, the Mantineans stepped upon the stage, and some other Arcadians also stood up. They had accoutered themselves in all their warlike finery. They marched with measured tread, pipes playing to the tune of the warrior march. The notes of the peon rose. Lightly their limbs moved and danced, as in solemn procession to the holy gods. The Paphalagonians looked upon it as something truly strange, that all these dances should be under arms. And the Mycenaeans, seeing their astonishment, persuaded one of the Arcadians, who had got a dancing-girl, to let him introduce her, which he did, after dressing her up magnificently, and giving her a light shield. When, lithe of limb, she danced the pyrrhic, loud clapping followed, and the Paphalagonians asked if these women fought by their side in the battle, to which they answered, to be sure, it was the women who routed the great king, and drove him out of camp. So ended the night. But next day, the generals introduced the embassy to the army, and the soldiers passed a resolution, in the sense proposed between themselves and the Paphalagonians, there was to be a mutual abstinence from injuries. After this the ambassadors went on their way, and the Hellenes, as soon as it was thought that sufficient vessels had arrived, went on board ship, and voyaged a day and a night with a fair breeze, keeping Paphalagonia on their left. And on the following day, arriving at Sinope, they came to moorings in the harbor of Harmene, near Sinope. The Sinopeans, though inhabitants of Paphalagonia, are really colonists of the Milesians. They sent gifts of hospitality to the Hellenes, three thousand measures of barley, with fifteen hundred jars of wine. At this place, Chirusulfus rejoined them with a man of war. The soldiers certainly expected that, having come, he would have brought them something, but he brought them nothing except complimentary phrases, on the part of Anasibius, the high admiral, and the rest who sent them their congratulations, coupled with a promise on the part of Anasibius, that as soon as they were outside the Eusene, pay would be forthcoming. At Harmene, the army halted five days, and now that they seemed to be so close to Hellas, the question how they were to reach home not empty-handed, presented itself more forcibly to their minds than heretofore. The conclusion they came to, was to appoint a single general, since one man would be better able to handle the troops, by night or by day, than was possible, while the general ship was divided. If secrecy were desirable, it would be easier to keep matters dark, or if again expedition were an object, there would be less risk of arriving a day too late, since mutual explanations would be avoided, and whatever approved itself to the single judgment would at once be carried into effect, whereas previously the generals had done everything in obedience to the opinion of the majority. With these ideas working in their minds, they turned to Xenophon, and the officers came to him, and told him that this was how the soldiers viewed matters, and each of them displaying a warmth of kindly feeling, pressed him to accept the office. Xenophon, partly, would have liked to do so, in the belief that, by so doing, he would win to himself a higher repute in the esteem of his friends, and that his name would be reported to the city written large, and by some stroke of fortune he might even be the discoverer of some blessings to the army collectively. These and the like considerations elated him. He had a strong desire to hold the supreme command. But then again, as he turned the matter over, the conviction deepened in his mind that the issue of the future is to every man uncertain, and hence there was a risk of perhaps losing such reputation as he had already acquired. He was in sore straits, and, not knowing how to decide, it seemed best to him to lay the matter before Heaven. Accordingly, he led two victims to the altar, and made sacrifice to Zeus the king, for it was he, and no other, who had been named by the oracle at Delphi, and his belief was that the vision which he had beheld when he first essayed to undertake the joint administration of the army was sent to him by that god. He also recalled to mind a circumstance which befell him still earlier, when setting out from Ephesus to associate himself with Cyrus, how an eagle screamed on his right hand from the east, and still remained perched, and the soothsayer who was escorting him said that it was a great and royal omen, indicating glory and yet suffering, for the punier race of birds only attack the eagle when seated. Yet, he added, it bodes not gain in money, for the eagle seizes his food, not when seated, but on the wing. Thus Xenophon sacrificed, and the god, as plainly as might be, gave him a sign, neither to demand the generalship, nor, if chosen, to accept the office. And that was how the matter stood when the army met, and the proposal to elect a single leader was unanimous. After this resolution was passed, they proposed Xenophon for election, and when it seemed quite evident that they would elect him, if he put the question to the vote, he got up and spoke as follows. Sirs, I am but mortal, and must needs be happy to be honored by you. I thank you, and am grateful, and my prayer is that the gods may grant me to be an instrument of blessing to you. Still, when I consider it closer, thus in the presence of a Lacedaemonian, to be preferred by you as general seems to me but ill conducive either to your interests or to mine, since you will the less readily obtain from them hereafter anything you may need, while for myself I look upon acceptance as even somewhat dangerous. I do not see and know with what persistence these Lacedaemonians prosecuted the war till finally they forced our state to acknowledge the leadership of Lacedaemon. This confession, once extorted from their antagonists, they ceased warring at once, and the siege of the city was at an end. If, with these facts before my eyes, I seem to be doing all I can to neutralize their high self-esteem, I cannot escape the reflection that personally I may be taught wisdom by a painful process. But with your own idea that under a siege general there will be less factiousness than when there were many, be assured that in choosing some other than me you will not find me factious. I hold that whosoever sets up factious opposition to his leader factiously opposes his own safety, while if you determined to choose me, I should not be surprised were that choice to entail upon you and me the resentment of other people. After those remarks on Xenophon's part, many more got up, one after another, insisting on the propriety of his undertaking the command. One of them, Agasius the Stymphalian, said, "'It was really ridiculous, if things had come to this pass, that the Lacedaemonians are to fly into a rage because a number of friends have met together to dinner, and omitted to choose a Lacedaemonian to sit at the head of the table.' "'Really, if that is how matters stand,' said he, "'I do not see what right we have to be officers even, we who are only Arcadians.'" That sally brought down the plaudits of the assembly, and Xenophon, seeing that something more was needed, stepped forward again and spoke. "'Pardon, sirs,' he said, "'let me make a clean breast of it. I swear to you, by all the gods and goddesses, verily and indeed, I no sooner perceived your purpose than I consulted the victims, whether it was better for you to entrust this leadership to me, and for me to undertake it, or the reverse, and the gods vouchsafed a sign to me, so plain that even a common man might understand it, and perceive that from such sovereignty I must needs hold myself aloof.'" Under these circumstances they chose Chiresippus, who, after his election, stepped forward and said, "'Nay, sirs, be well assured of this, that had you chosen someone else, I, for my part, should not have set up factious opposition. As to Xenophon, I believe you have done him a good turn by not appointing him, for even now Decipus has gone some way introducing him to Anasibius, as far as it lay in his power to do so, and that in spite of my attempts to silence him. What he said was that he believed Xenophon would rather share the command of Clericus' army with Timation, a Dardanian, than with himself, a Laconian. But,' continued Chiresippus, "'Since your choice has fallen upon me, I will make it my endeavor to do you all the good in my power, so make your preparations to Weyanker tomorrow. Wind and weather permitting, we will voyage to Heraclea. Every one must endeavor, therefore, to put in at that port, and for the rest we will consult when we are come thither." No. 2 The next day they weighed anchor and set sail from Harmene, with a fair breeze, two days' voyage along the coast. As they coasted along they came in sight of Jason's Beach, where, as the story says, the ship Argo came to moorings, and then the mouth of the rivers, first the Termondon, then the Eris, then the Halles, and next to it the Parthenius. Coasting past the latter, they reached Heraclea, a Hellenic city and a colony of the Megarians, situated in the territory of the Mariandians. So they came to anchorage off the Acherusian Cherosonese, where Heracles is said to have descended to bring up the dog Cerberus at a point where they still show the marks of his descent, a deep cleft more than two furlongs down. Here the Heracliotes sent the Hellens, as gifts of hospitality, three thousand measures of barley and two thousand jars of wine, twenty beaves and one hundred sheep. Through the flat country there flows the Lycus River, as it is called, about two hundred feet in breadth. The soldiers held a meeting, and took counsel about the remainder of the journey. Should they make their exit from the Pontus by sea or by land? And Lycan the Achaean got up and said, I am astonished, sirs, that the generals do not endeavor to provide us more efficiently with provisions. These gifts of hospitality will not afford three days' victuals for the army, nor do I see from what region we are to provide ourselves as we march. My proposal, therefore, is to demand of the Heracliotes at least three thousand saizysenis, another speaker suggested, not less than ten thousand. Let us at once, before we break up this meeting, send ambassadors to the city and ascertain their answer to the demand, and take counsel accordingly. Thereupon they proceeded to put up as ambassadors, first and foremost, Kyrosophus, as he had been chosen general-in-chief. Others also named Xenophon, but both Kyrosophus and Xenophon stoutly declined, maintaining both alike that they could not compel a Hellenic city, actually friendly, to give anything which they did not spontaneously offer. So, since these two appeared to be backward, the soldiers sent Lycon the Achaean, Callimachus the Parhazian, and Agassius the Stymphalian. These three went and announced the resolutions passed by the army. Lycon, it was said, even went so far as to threaten certain consequences in case they refused to comply. The Heracliotes said they would deliberate, and, without more ado, they got together their goods and chattels from their farms and fields outside, and dismantled the market outside, and transferred it within, after which the gates were closed, and arms appeared at the battlements of the walls. At that check, the authors of these tumultuary measures fell to accusing the generals, as if they had marred the proceeding, and the Arcadians and the Achaeans banded together, chiefly under the auspices of two ringleaders, Callimachus the Parhazian and Lycon the Achaean. The language they held was to this effect. It was outrageous that a single Athenian and a Lacedaemonian, who had not contributed a soldier to the expedition, should rule the Peloponnesians. Scandalous that they themselves should bear the toils whilst others pocketed the spoils, and that, too, though the preservation of the army was due to themselves, for, as everyone must admit to the Arcadians and Achaeans, the credit of that achievement was due, and the rest of the army went for nothing. Which was, indeed, so far true, that the Arcadians and Achaeans did form numerically the larger half of the whole army. What, then, did common sense suggest? Why, that they, the Arcadians and Achaeans, should make common cause, choose generals for themselves independently, continue the march, and try somewhat to better their condition. This proposal was carried. All the Arcadians and Achaeans, who chanced to be with Kairisophus, left him and Xenophon, setting up for themselves, and choosing ten generals of their own. These ten, it was decreed, were to put into effect such measures as approved themselves to the majority. Thus the absolute authority vested in Kairisophus was terminated, there and then, within less than a week of his appointment. Xenophon, however, was minded to prosecute the journey in their company, thinking that this would be a safer plan than for each to start on his own account. But Neon threw his weight in favor of separate action. Every one for himself, he said, for he had heard from Kairisophus that Cleander, the Spartan governor-general at Byzantium, talked of coming to Kalpehaven with some war vessels. Neon's advice was due to his desire to secure a passage home in these war vessels for themselves and their soldiers, without allowing anyone else to share in their good fortune. As for Kairisophus, he was at once so out of heart at the turn things had taken, and soured with the whole army, that he left it to his subordinate, Neon, to do just what he liked. Xenophon, on his side, would still have been glad to be quit of the expedition and sail home, but on offering sacrifice to Heracles, the leader, and seeking advice whether it were better and more desirable to continue the march in charge of the soldiers who had remained faithful, or to take his departure, the god indicated to him by the victims that he should adopt the former course. In this way the army was now split up into three divisions. First, the Arcadians and Achaeans, over 4,500 men, all heavy infantry. Secondly, Kairisophus and his men, viz., 1,400 heavy infantry, and the 700 Peltasts, or Clerkus Thracians. Thirdly, Xenophon's division of 1,700 heavy infantry and 300 Peltasts, but then he alone had the cavalry, about forty troopers. The Arcadians, who had bargained with the Heracliots and got some vessels from them, were the first to set sail. They hoped, by pouncing suddenly on the Bithians, to make as large a haul as possible. With that object they disembarked at Calpe Havin, pretty nearly at the middle point in Thrace. Kairisophus, setting off straight from Heraclea, commenced a land march through the country, but having entered into Thrace, he preferred to cling to the seaboard, health and strength failing him. Xenophon, lastly, took vessels and, disembarking on the confines of Thrace and the Heracliotid, pushed forward through the heart of the country.