CHAPTER XXX
‘Why should we toil alone,* * * *Still from one sorrow to another thrown,Nor ever fold our wings,And cease from wanderings.’Tennyson.
‘Why should we toil alone,* * * *Still from one sorrow to another thrown,Nor ever fold our wings,And cease from wanderings.’Tennyson.
‘Why should we toil alone,* * * *Still from one sorrow to another thrown,Nor ever fold our wings,And cease from wanderings.’Tennyson.
‘Why should we toil alone,* * * *Still from one sorrow to another thrown,Nor ever fold our wings,And cease from wanderings.’Tennyson.
‘Why should we toil alone,
* * * *
Still from one sorrow to another thrown,
Nor ever fold our wings,
And cease from wanderings.’
Tennyson.
Thepeople soon repented of their conduct to Alkibiades. Not long after they drove him away, when Konon was beaten near Mytilene, we begin to hear the murmur growing more distinct—‘Had he been there, this would not have happened.’ Some at first believed the old fables that were told about him. Some thought he would try to make himself despotic. But these suspicions gradually died away. The desire for his wise counsel, and his strong generalship, growing as disaster followed on disaster, came to its fulness during the terrible siege. And as death and famine stalked about among the people, and their dear ones died in cruel agony before their eyes, while they awaited their own turn in consuming,gnawing hunger, and it at last was plain to those who were still left alive what must be the conditions by which alone death could be avoided, we can still, in imagination, hear the cry of impotent remorse sounding loud amongst all the other vain regrets of men throughout the ages—sorrow, contrition, repentance, anger with those who had misled them, and regret come too late.
Then in the reign of terror, in the year of anarchy, as the greatest fell, not now by famine nobly suffered, but by the sword and poison of their countrymen, who, encouraged by an enemy encamped within the citadel and holy places, in Athens trampled on Athenians, all within the city, except the Thirty and their creatures and the enemy, were ever casting longing, but forlorn and hopeless, eyes towards that fortress on the Hellespont where they believed their former saviour dwelt.
The Thirty were not ignorant of this desire among their indignant subjects. They trembled at the thought of what Alkibiades even yet might do. Neither were the Spartans certain of the fruits of their victory while their old opponent was alive.
One of the first acts of the thirty tyrants after coming into power was to decree his banishment. They proceeded to confiscate all his estates inAttika. They had some cause for their apprehension. In the early winter, during the siege of Athens, unable to hold himself aloof from what was going on, and knowing that he would be the next object of the hatred of the Spartans, Alkibiades had left his stronghold in Thrace, crossed over into Phrygia, and sought out Pharnabazos at Daskylion. They had exchanged oaths of mutual friendship and hospitality. Alkibiades believed that he could trust the Persian satrap, and, indeed, he was in want of faithful supporters at that time. His soul was set in tumult at the thought of his native city being about to fall into the hands of Spartans and Boiotians. He could not rest while it was in his power to help her. The satrap had been a noble foe; it might be that he would become a generous friend. At least, he was not a partisan of Sparta or of the young Kyros.
Alkibiades was courteously received at Daskylion by Pharnabazos, who had long admired him for his prowess and extraordinary skill in war. In a short time the peculiar attraction which had drawn all the hearts which he had ever tried to win was felt by his new friend.
Just as he had been before the intimate associate of Tissaphernes, so now he soon became the constant companion and counsellor of the satrap of thePropontis. To compensate him somewhat for the loss of his patrimonial estates in Attika, Pharnabazos, with Eastern magnificence, gave him the annual revenue of Grunion, a town in Mysia, on which he might have lived in ease and Asiatic luxury, as Themistokles had done before him. To most people, indeed, to everybody else, the state of Athens looked as if it was beyond all cure. Nothing could well appear more utterly forlorn than her then condition; nothing more hopeless than the prospect of recovering her freedom.
While he was at the court of Pharnabazos he heard of the death of king Dareios Nothos, and the succession of his eldest son Artaxerxes. He knew the character and ambition of Kyros, the late king’s younger son, and suspected that he was plotting deeply with Lysandros against his brother. He found that Kyros was collecting an army from among the Greeks of the Ionian towns, enlisting especially the Spartans. This could not be without some hidden object; and no doubt the object was to levy war against, and attempt to overthrow, the king, his elder brother. To Alkibiades this opened a fresh opportunity. There was no salvation for his country to be found in Greece. The thought came suddenly upon him one night, when he was pondering on these things, to seekhelp from the Persian king. Lysandros and the Spartans were bound to stand by their ally, the crafty Kyros, to whom they owed so much, and from whom they might require more. With Persian gold he might recruit an army of experienced Athenian hoplites and Argive peltasts, meet at last on equal terms the cunning Spartan leader, avenge the slaughter of three thousand fellow-countrymen slain at Aigos Potamoi, and punish the destroyer of his country’s liberty.
Then why not set out at once and at all hazards for the Persian capital, see the new king himself, be the first to disclose to him the danger that was threatening him from his own family, show him the number and the strength of the army of the Grecian colonists that was being drawn together by Kyros, offer to lead against them the royal forces and the picked Greek band which with Persian aid might easily be raised, and rid the king of this unworthy and treacherous brother? His fame had penetrated into Asia; his name was well known at Susa and Babylon, the Persian capitals. What might he not become at the court of the Great King—he who had never lost a battle, or failed to gain the love and admiration of anyone whose affection he was anxious to obtain? Then, having rousedup the wrath of Artaxerxes against the Lakedaimonian allies of the unnatural Kyros, and gained his confidence and gratitude, what might he not accomplish at the head of a well-trained army?
Already he could fancy himself, victorious over Lysandros, Spartans, and Boiotians, over all his country’s enemies, entering once more triumphant into Athens, to end his days in peace and happiness, dealing out just laws to his emancipated countrymen.
Such was his dream. By degrees he unfolded his hopes and fears to Pharnabazos, and persuaded him to give his help in this great and difficult adventure. The satrap, too, could see visions rising up before him of even greater splendour than that which he had so long enjoyed. To be associated with one like this Grecian warrior in saving the king, his master, from treachery and treason must surely be rewarded by the highest honours that the king could possibly bestow. There was a possibility of even greater things, if anything unforeseen should happen to the king, and Kyros should be discomfited by this invincible Greek general; while if the contemplated mission failed, Kyros and his Spartan allies need never know the part that he had taken in it.
With a sufficiency, then, of Persian gold, and the safe-conduct of the satrap, Alkibiades set out late in the autumn, accompanied by Timandra and by the faithful Agrestides. The route to Babylon, the capital, where the king generally lived, was long and mountainous. At least three months, they expected, would be taken on the way.
They started from Daskylion with many expressions of eternal friendship on the part of their host, and making first for Azani and Synnada, they passed along the base of the range of Olympos, the northern boundary of Phrygia.
Pharnabazos had insisted on their taking an escort with them—at least, on the first part of the way; for he had to admit that the mountainous portions of his viceregal dominions were infested with robber tribes. The escort was almost as fierce, and to some of the party as terrible, as the robbers they came to scare away; and, when the open plain was reached by the banks of the Rhyndakos, the country looked so peaceable that Alkibiades sent the escort back with a large reward and a warm message of thanks to his generous friend.
The small party were not sorry to be relieved of their noisy and warlike protectors, who were too fond of displaying their extraordinary horsemanshipand their deftness with their swords to the detriment of one another. In the still autumn weather everything on that fertile plain breathed of calm and peace, as though the hard work of the year was finished. So they journeyed on quietly, and with as little fuss as possible, for Alkibiades was anxious, as they got further south, and approached the territories of Kyros, to avoid the larger towns and the notice of the inhabitants. He had no wish for another sojourn in the castle of Sardis.
They reached Azani a week after they left Daskylion. Timandra would fain have rested there a little, being somewhat tired by the journey, but the leader said they must push on to a more secluded place and rest themselves there, before they set out upon the long and unknown road to Babylon. They started again almost immediately for Synnada, the next town of any importance which they must make for. Three days’ good travelling, with the lofty Dindymon upon their left, brought them at last to Synnada.
He had been thus far on the road from the Ionian coast before, and when staying at Magnesia with Tissaphernes, he had become the owner of a little villa, or Persian country house, near the village of Melissa, some five miles from the marble quarries of Synnada. For, some time previously,when tired of the life he was leading at the satrap’s court, and not knowing how long it might be before he was recalled to Athens, he had explored some distance into the interior of the land which we call Asia Minor, and coming suddenly upon this villa, he was struck with the beauty of the woods and hills around it, and had fixed upon the small country place as a spot to which he might retire with a friend, if need be, far from the bustle of the world, and where he might end his days in peace. Like many other energetic and ambitious men, he longed at times to be rid of his constant anxieties, and to enjoy a period of rest. The house he had chosen stood some way from the high-road which leads from Synnada to Metropolis. He had enlarged and improved his small domain, and had there been honoured by the presence of Tissaphernes, who came to visit him on one occasion when he, too, was tired of excess of luxury, and wanted to exchange the pleasures of his court for the undisturbed companionship of his bosom friend. At the end of that visit the satrap presented the small domain to his friend, made him come back with him to Magnesia, and Alkibiades, having been called away soon afterwards to Samos, had not seen since then his rural, calm retreat.
The travellers reached this place at the end of September. Timandra was enraptured with the charms of the lovely spot, and was for making Alkibiades stay there altogether and give up his great enterprise, letting kings and republics go their way, and resting there in peace for ever, without troubling himself more about the rights and wrongs of struggling men and women.
There was much indeed to make him loath to leave the pleasant scene, for it was very beautiful, and the journey before him was full of dangers and fatigues in unknown lands. He would first have to get as best he could to Ikonion by Mount Paroreios, more than a hundred miles away. Thence he would be obliged to journey south to cross the great Tauros chain by the high and dangerous pass to Tarsos on the sea-coast; then, after skirting the Mediterranean, to strike across Syria and North Arabia to the wide Euphrates; and then, perhaps, if the king was not at Babylon, to cross that river and the Tigris, and proceed to Susa.
All this was an unknown world to him. He and Agrestides must go alone,—perhaps never to return, and he might possibly end his life in a Persian dungeon, or leave his body on some mountain pass. However, he must not give way to foolishfears; he had gone through greater perils many times before, and a vista of fresh adventures, larger successes, opened up before him, ending ever with the attainment of the one fixed object of his thoughts and his desire—the liberation and the final triumph of his country.