satisfy the victors of Salamis that they were making what haste they could to the scene of action when the Etesian winds baffled all their efforts to double cape Malea.

The messengers sent to ask the aid of Gelon, the tyrant of Syracuse, met with not much better success. His help was readily promised on condition that he should be generalissimo of the allied forces, or at least have the command of their fleet. In the one case his demand was refused by the Spartans, in the other by the Athenians; and Gelon bade the envoys return home and tell the Greeks that since they would yield nothing and grasp everything, the spring-time was taken out of their year.' Such is the tale which Herodotos relates as most generally believed among the continental Greeks about the conduct of Gelon during the Persian war; but he has the candour to give other accounts which deprive the popular tradition of all its value. According to one of these stories Gelon sent Kadmos of Kos with a charge similar to that which was given to the commander of the Korkyraian fleet. He was to go with a large sum of money to Delphoi; and if the Persian gained the victory he was to present the money to Xerxes as a peace-offering. If the Greeks should gain the day, he was to bring it back again. The historian, having added that to his great credit he did bring it back, goes on to give the Sicilian version of the affair which asserted that in spite of Spartan supremacy Gelon would still have aided the Greeks, had not the banished tyrant of Himera brought against him a host of Phenicians equal in number to the Persians who fought under Mardonios at Plataia.

But if Argos and Korkyra, Krete and Syracuse, were not to be trusted, and if Thebes with the Boiotian cities was bitterly hostile, it was still possible to preserve the Hellenic tribes which lay to the south of the pass of Tempe and to secure their aid against the invader. In any effort to guard the defile of Tempe the Thessalians declared themselves eager to take part : but they admitted plainly that if this aid were withheld, they must secure their safety by making a covenant with the Persian king. It might well have been thought that no post could have been more easily tenable than this Thessalian defile, along which for a distance of five miles a road stretches, nowhere more than 20, and sometimes not more than 13 feet in width. Hence no time was lost in occupying the pass with 10,000 hoplites, aided by the Thessalian cavalry. But they held it for a few days

only; and popular traditions, as usual, assigned its abandonment to different motives. The thought of guarding Tempe being given up, it was resolved that a stand should be made in the defile of Thermopylai while the fleet should take up its station on the northernmost coast of Euboia facing the Malian gulf.

The accumulation of mud at the mouth of the Spercheios has in the course of three-and-twenty centuries so changed the coast of this gulf that some of the most material features in the description of Herodotos no longer characterise this memorable spot. In his day the Spercheios ran into the gulf near the town of Antikyra at a point about 22 miles due west of the northwesternmost promontory of Euboia. From its mouth the coast, having stretched southward for somewhat more than two miles, trended away to the east and at short intervals the sea here received the small streams of the Dyras, Melas, and Asopos. These insignificant rivers are now discharged into the Spercheios which, flowing on the south instead of on the north side of Antikyra, reaches the sea at a point considerably to the east of Thermopylai. We look therefore in vain for the narrow space which, leaving room for nothing more than a cart track, gave access to the pass within which so many Persians were to meet their death. Close above the town of Anthela, the ridge of Oita, known there by the name Anopaia, came down so close to the water as to leave only this narrow pathway. From this point, at a distance of perhaps a mile and a half to the east, and a little to the west of the first Lokrian hamlet of Alpenoi, another spur of the mountain locked in the wider space within which the army of Leonidas took up its post, but which for all practical purposes was as narrow as the passes at either extremity which received the name of the Gates or the Hot Gates (Pylai or Thermopylai). This narrow road was hemmed in by the precipitous mountain on the one side, and on the other by the marshes produced by the hot springs. But to render the passage still more difficult than nature had made it, the Phokians had led the mineral waters almost over the whole of it and had also built across it near the western entrance a wall with strong gates. Much of this work had fallen from age: but it was now repaired, and behind it we are told that the Greek army determined to await the attack of the Persians. Here, about the summer solstice, was assembled a force of Spartans and their allies under

Leonidas who to his surprise had succeeded to the kingly office. Three hundred picked hoplites or heavy armed citizens attended him on this his first and last expedition as king; and with these were ranged the contingents from the Arkadian Tegea, Mantineia, and Orchomenos, from Corinth, Phlious, and Mykenai, from the Phokians, and Lokrians of Opous, together with 700 Thespians, and lastly with 500 Thebans whom Leonidas was anxious to take with him as hostages for the good faith of a city strongly suspected of Medism.

The narrative of events which took place in this formidable pass has been distorted partly by the variations which the oral tradition of nearly half a century is sure to introduce into any story, but much more from the desire to glorify or stigmatize the citizens of particular towns. But significant indications remain to show that the conflict in Thermopylai was more equal and the defeat of the Greeks far more serious than the story told by Herodotos would lead us to imagine.

While the Spartans were here awaiting the approach of their enemies by land, the Persian fleet underwent a terrible disaster on the narrow strip of Magnesian coast, which it reached on the eleventh day after the departure of Xerxes from Thermê. In utter unconsciousness of danger the Persian commanders moored upon the Magnesian beach those ships which came first, while the rest lay beyond them at anchor, ranged in rows eight deep facing the sea. At break of day the air was clear and the sea still: but the breeze, here called the wind of the Hellespont, soon rose and gathered to a storm. Those who had time drew their ships upon the shore and escaped; but all the vessels which were out at sea were borne away and dashed upon the Ovens of Pelion and all along the beach as far as Kasthanaia. For four days the storm raged furiously. Meanwhile the Greeks, who on the second day of the storm had heard of the mischief done to their enemies, plucked up courage and through the comparatively smooth waters of the Euboian sea sailed back to Artemision. The barbarians, however, were not so sorely crippled as the Greeks had hoped to find them. When the storm had abated, their ships, drawn down from the shore, sailed to Aphetai at the entrance of the Pagasaian gulf and took up their position precisely opposite to the Greek fleet at Artemision.

Xerxes in the meanwhile had advanced through Thessaly to Trachis, where he was separated only by a few miles of ground

from the defenders of Thermopylai. At this point the traditional narrative of Herodotos breaks out into one of those beautiful pictures which impart a marvellous life to his history. There was enough of disunion and dissension in the Greek camp, when a horseman sent by Xerxes came to learn their numbers and see what they were doing. The Greeks had repaired the old Phokian wall, and the horseman could advance no further: but outside of it were the Lakedaimonians with their arms piled against the wall, while some of them were wrestling and others combing their hair. The report of the horseman seemed to Xerxes to convict his enemies of childish folly; but Demaratos was at hand to explain to him that when the Spartans had to face a mortal danger, their custom was to comb and deck out their hair. Still Xerxes could not believe him, and for four days he waited, thinking that they would assuredly run away. At last his anger was kindled and he charged the Medians and Kissians to go and bring them all bound before him.

The messengers of Xerxes advanced to do his bidding. Many were slain, and although others took their places, their errand was not done. At last the Immortals under Hydarnes advanced to the attack. But their spears were shorter than those of the Greeks: linen tunics could avail little in an encounter with iron-clad men, and mere numbers were of no use in the narrow pass. Thrice the king leaped from his throne in terror for his army: but on the next day he sent them forth again, thinking that the enemy would be too weary to fight. The Greeks, however, were all drawn out in battle array, save only the Phokians; and these were placed upon the hill to guard the pathway. Again the Persians fared as they had done before, and Xerxes was sorely troubled until a Malian named Ephialtes in hope of some great reward told him of the path which led over the hill, and thus destroyed the Greeks who were guarding Thermopylai. Xerxes now regarded the conquest of the pass as practically achieved. As the daylight died away, Hydarnes set out from the camp with the troops under his command. All night long they followed the path Anopaia along the ridge which bore the same name, with the mountains of Oita on the right hand and the hills of Trachis on the left. The day was dawning with the exquisite stillness which marks early morning in Greece, when they reached the peak of the mountain