[1] Afterwards, while they continued to wait, the Greeks supported themselves either by buying food from the market or by plundering the territory of the Paphlagonians. But the Paphlagonians repeatedly intercepted any stragglers, and at nights they did their best to wreak havoc on those who had pitched their tents some way from the main camp. The upshot of all this was that there was a state of unremitting hostility between the two sides. But then Corylas, who was the Paphlagonian ruler at the time, sent a delegation to the Greeks. The men brought horses and fine clothes, and a message to the effect that Corylas was ready to enter into a pact of mutual non-aggression with the Greeks. The generals replied that they would consult with their troops about the pact, and in the meantime they put on a banquet for the delegates, to which they also invited anyone else who seemed to deserve it. Once they had sacrificed some of the oxen they had captured, and other animals too, they laid on a satisfactory feast, but they reclined on palliasses to eat and drank from horn cups, which they had found locally.
They poured libations and sang a paean, and then two Thracians were the first to get to their feet. Still in their armour, they danced to the accompaniment of the pipes, lightly leaping high off the ground and thrusting with their swords. In the end one of them struck the other, and everyone thought the man had been wounded, though he fell in a somewhat contrived fashion. The Paphlagonians shouted out loud at the sight. Then the first man stripped the other of his arms and armour and left, singing the Sitalces,* while other Thracians carried the fallen man away as though he were dead, although in fact he was completely unscathed.
Next, some Aenianians and Magnesians stood up and began a dance in armour called the karpaia,* which goes like this: one man puts down his weapons and starts to sow grain and drive a team, while constantly turning this way and that as though in fear; a robber approaches and the farmer spots him, grabs his weapons, goes to meet him, and fights him to stop him stealing his team of oxen. They keep time throughout with the music of the pipes. In the end the robber ties up the farmer and steals the oxen, but sometimes the farmer ties up the robber and then puts him under the yoke next to the oxen with his hands tied behind his back and drives him on.
Next, a Mysian stepped forward with a light shield in each hand. As he danced, sometimes he pretended that he was fending off two opponents, but at other times he wielded both shields as though he were fighting just one man. Then he whirled and turned somersaults while keeping the shields in his hands, which made a beautiful display. Finally, he performed the Persian dance,* which involved clashing his shields together, while squatting and rising up again. He kept time throughout with the music of the pipes.
After the Mysian it was the turn of the Mantineans to step forward, and others from elsewhere in Arcadia also got to their feet. Dressed in the most splendid armour they could muster, they paraded in time with a martial tune played on the pipes, chanted a paean, and performed the same dance they put on during their religious processions.
The Paphlagonians found it strange that all the dances they had seen involved armour, and the Mysian, seeing how surprised they were, persuaded one of the Arcadians, who owned a dancing-girl, to let him dress her in the most beautiful costume he could find, give her a light shield, and then bring her on. She performed an elegant version of the Pyrrhic dance* and received loud applause. The Paphlagonians asked whether the women fought alongside them, and the Greeks said that these were the very women who had put the king to flight from his camp. And so the evening came to an end.
The next day they presented the delegates to the main body of the army, and the troops decided to enter into a pact of mutual non-aggression with the Paphlagonians. After the delegates had left, the Greeks, reckoning that they then had enough ships, put to sea and sailed for a day and a night on a fair wind, with Paphlagonia on their left. The following day they reached Sinope and anchored the ships at Harmene, the port of Sinope—a city, originally a colony of Miletus, in Paphlagonian territory. The Sinopeans sent the Greeks as tokens of their friendship 3,000 medimni of barley and 1,500 jars of wine.
While they were at Sinope, Chirisophus also arrived, on board a trireme. The soldiers expected him to bring them something, but he brought nothing except a message from Anaxibius, the Spartan naval commander, conveying his and everyone else’s gratitude and promising them regular pay if they left the Euxine Sea. The army stayed at Harmene for five days.
Greece now seemed to be close, and the men began to wonder, with more urgency than before, how they might actually return to their homes with something in hand. They came to the conclusion that if they chose just one leader, a single individual might be able to make better use of the army, at any hour of the day or night, than a plurality of commanding officers. They thought, for instance, that if stealth were called for a single leader would be better at concealment, and that if haste were required he would be less likely to cause a delay, because one man’s decisions could simply be implemented without having first to be discussed with others. Up until then, however, all the generals’ actions had depended on a consensus.
The upshot of these thoughts was that they turned to Xenophon. The company commanders came to him and said that this was what the men wanted and each of them, with expressions of loyalty, tried to persuade him to accept overall command. From one point of view, Xenophon was inclined to accept, because he thought it would bring him more respect from his friends and make him better known in his home city; besides, he thought, he might perhaps be the agent of some good for the army. So considerations such as these aroused in him the desire to become sole commander, but then, when he bore in mind that no one can see into the future and that therefore he would run the risk of losing even the reputation he had already built up, he did not know what to do.
Since he was uncertain how to resolve the issue, he decided that it would be best for him to consult the gods. He brought up two victims and sacrificed them to Zeus the King– the god who had been named in the oracle he had been given at Delphi,* and the one who he thought had sent the vision he had seen in a dream at the time when he began to play a part in managing the army.* He was also bearing in mind that, as he was setting out from Ephesus to be introduced to Cyrus, he had heard an eagle cry to his right. The eagle had been perched, however, and the diviner who was seeing him on his way had said that although the eagle was magnificent, extraordinary, and glorious, nevertheless it signified suffering, because other birds were liable to attack an eagle when it was perched; moreover, it was not an omen of profit, he said, because the eagle generally got its food on the wing. Anyway, when Xenophon performed this sacrifice, the god made it perfectly plain that he should neither feel the need for further command nor accept it if the troops chose him. So that was how this turned out.
The troops held a general meeting, unanimously agreed to choose just one man to lead them, and as a result of this decision nominated Xenophon. It was clear that if the matter was put to the vote they were going to choose him, so he stood up and spoke as follows: ‘Men, I am naturally as delighted as anyone would be at the high regard in which you hold me, and I’d like to thank you for it. I pray that the gods may grant me the opportunity to be the agent of some good for you. But I don’t think it’s in your best interests for me to be preferred by you as your leader when there’s a Spartan available for the position, because then the Spartans would be less likely to give you anything you might want from them.* Nor do I think it would be altogether safe for me to accept the post. I was a witness to the fact that the Spartans didn’t stop fighting the city of my birth until they had made the entire citizen body acknowledge them as their masters. As soon as this concession had been made, the Spartans stopped fighting and broke off their blockade of the city. So if I, who was a witness to all this, were taken to be undermining their authority wherever I could, I think I’d very quickly be brought to my senses. Now, your thinking is that the level of feuding will decrease if there’s just one leader rather than a number of them, and so I want to assure you that if you choose someone else you won’t find me stirring up trouble, because in my opinion anyone who jeopardizes a leader’s authority in wartime is jeopardizing his own safety. However, if you choose me, I wouldn’t be surprised if you found that this made someone angry with both you and me.’*
After this speech even more people got to their feet and said that he should be their leader, and Agasias of Stymphalus argued that the situation was absurd if it was as Xenophon had described it. ‘Will the Spartans also be angry, then,’ he said, ‘if the guests at a symposium fail to choose a Spartan as their symposiarch?* I mean, if this is so, I guess the fact that we are Arcadians should debar us even from being company commanders.’* The troops roared out their approval of Agasias’ words.
Xenophon could see that he needed to say something more, so he stepped forward and said: ‘Men, I want you to be fully aware of the situation. I swear to you, by all the gods and goddesses, that when I learnt of your plan I sacrificed to see whether it would be better for you to entrust this command to me and for me to take it on, and through the entrails of the victims the gods indicated, in ways that even a non-diviner could recognize, that I should having nothing to do with this sole command.’
Under these circumstances, they chose Chirisophus. After he had been appointed to the post, Chirisophus stepped forward and said: ‘Men, I want you to know that I wouldn’t have stirred up trouble either, if you had chosen someone else. But I should tell you that you did Xenophon a favour by not appointing him, because Dexippus has already been blackening his name as much as he can to Anaxibius, despite my efforts to shut him up. He told Anaxibius that, in his opinion, Xenophon preferred to share the command of Clearchus’ army with Timasion, a Dardanian, than with him, a Spartan. But anyway, you’ve chosen me, and I will do my best to act in your best interests. I want you now to get ready to put to sea tomorrow, if the weather is good for sailing. Our destination is Heraclea, and so everyone must try to come to land there. We’ll talk over what to do next once we’re there.’
[2] The next day they put to sea and sailed for two days on a fair wind along the coast. During this voyage, they saw Jason’s Point, where the Argo is said to have landed,* and they also saw the mouths of the rivers—first, the Thermodon, then in order the Iris, the Halys, and the Parthenius.* Once they had sailed past the Parthenius, they came to Heraclea, a Greek city, originally a Megarian colony, which had been founded in the territory of the Mariandynians. They anchored by the Acherusian peninsula, where Heracles is said to have gone down to fetch the hound Cerberus.* At this spot nowadays they show the marks of his descent, to a depth of more than two stades. While they were there, the people of Heraclea sent the Greeks, as tokens of friendship, 3,000 medimni of barley, 2,000 jars of wine, 20 oxen, and 100 sheep. The Lycus river, about two plethra wide, flows through the plain at this point.
The troops held a meeting at which they discussed the remainder of their journey and specifically whether they should leave the Euxine by land or by sea. Lycon of Achaea got to his feet and said, ‘Men, I’m surprised that our generals aren’t making any attempt to get provision-money for us. These tokens of friendship won’t feed the army for more than three days at the most, and there’s nowhere here for us to stock up on supplies before setting out. So I think we should ask the people of Heraclea for at least 3,000 Cyzicene staters’ – someone else suggested at least 10,000—‘and that we should choose delegates straight away, while we’re in session, and send them to the city. Then we can hear the report they bring back and discuss how to respond to it.’
They then set about nominating delegates, and the first to be proposed was Chirisophus, because he was their elected leader, and some people proposed Xenophon too. But Chirisophus and Xenophon disagreed vehemently with the plan, because they both felt that they should not be forcing a friendly Greek city to give something they had not freely offered. Given their obvious reluctance, the men sent Lycon of Achaea, Callimachus of Parrhasia, and Agasias of Stymphalus. This delegation went to the city and explained what the army had decided, and it was said that Lycon also threatened them with dire consequences if they refused to comply. After listening to the envoys, the people of Heraclea said that they would consult about what to do—and immediately set about gathering their livestock from the countryside. They packed up the market and moved it inside the city walls, the gates were shut, and armed men were to be seen on the walls.
Those who had caused this disruption of normal activity then blamed the generals for the failure of their plans, and the Arcadians and Achaeans held a meeting at which Callimachus of Parrhasia and Lycon of Achaea were particularly prominent. They argued that it was disgraceful for an Athenian, who had provided no troops for the army, to be in command of Peloponnesians and Spartans, and that it was wrong for others to profit from their hard work, especially since it was they who were responsible for the army’s survival. In other words, they claimed that the army’s survival was due to the Arcadians and Achaeans, while the rest of the army counted for nothing (and it was true that Arcadians and Achaeans made up more than half the army). It made sense, then, they said, for them to join forces, choose their own generals, continue the journey by themselves, and try to profit from it.
This proposal was carried, and all the Arcadians and Achaeans among Chirisophus’ and Xenophon’s troops left them and joined forces with their countrymen. They chose ten of their number to be .their generals, and they decreed that these generals were to act on their own majority decisions. So Chirisophus’ overall command came to an end five or six days after he had been chosen for the job. But Xenophon wanted to continue the journey with Chirisophus, because he thought that this would be safer than if each of them travelled on his own. Neon, however, tried to persuade Xenophon to carry on by himself, because he had heard from Chirisophus that Cleander, the harmost* in Byzantium, had promised to come to Calpe Harbour with triremes. The reason for Neon’s advice to Xenophon, then, was that he wanted to exclude everyone else, so that he and Chirisophus and their men could leave the Euxine on board these ships; and Chirisophus was so depressed by what had happened and so filled with hatred for the men because of what they had done that he gave Xenophon permission to do whatever he liked.
At first, Xenophon did his best to extricate himself from the army and sail away home, but when he sacrificed to Heracles the Guide with the question whether it would be better and more honourable for him to continue to serve with those troops who remained or to leave them, the god indicated to him, by means of the victim’s entrails, that he should continue his service with the army. The upshot was that the army broke up into three parts: there were the Arcadians and Achaeans, who numbered more than 4,500 and were all hoplites; Chirisophus had at most 1,400 hoplites and 700 peltasts, who were Clearchus’ Thracians; and Xenophon had about 1,700 hoplites and about 300 peltasts. Xenophon, who was the only one with any cavalry, also had about 40 horsemen.
The Arcadians were the first to sail away, once they had managed to get some ships from the people of Heraclea. Their plan was to make a sudden assault on the Bithynians and to seize as much as they could, so they disembarked at Calpe Harbour, about halfway along the Thracian coast. Chirisophus set out by land straight away and took an inland route from Heraclea until he entered Thrace, when he travelled along the coast, since he was not well.* Xenophon got hold of some ships, disembarked at the border between Thrace and Heraclea, and then set out through the interior.
[3] This is how each division of the army fared. The Arcadians disembarked by night at Calpe Harbour and marched against the nearest villages, which were about thirty stades from the coast. At dawn, each general led his own company against one of the villages, unless the village seemed rather large, in which case the generals combined two companies and led them in a joint attack on the village. They also agreed upon a hill where they were all to meet afterwards. Their assaults were unexpected, so they took a lot of prisoners and rounded up a lot of sheep and goats, but the Thracians who escaped began to form up—and, since they were peltasts evading hoplites, there were plenty of men who managed to slip right out of the Arcadians’ grasp. Once they had regrouped, they first attacked the company of one of the Arcadian generals called Smicres, just as he was returning to the rendezvous point with all his booty. For a while the Greeks fought them off while marching, but when they were crossing a gully the Thracians put them to flight and killed every single one of them, including Smicres. Then from another company, commanded by Hegesander, one of the ten generals, the Thracians left only eight men alive, one of whom was Hegesander.
The remaining company commanders joined forces more or less easily, but after their successes the Thracians spent the night calling out to one another and resolutely mustering their forces. At dawn the next day they began to deploy around the hill where the Greeks had passed the night; their forces consisted not just of peltasts, but of large numbers of horsemen, and more men were constantly streaming in. They began to attack the hoplites, and because the Greeks had no archers, javelin-men, or horsemen, the Thracians were in no danger: they would run or ride up and throw their javelins, and they easily escaped every time the Greeks launched an attack against them. The Thracians also attacked from various directions. One side was taking a lot of wounds, the other none, and the upshot was that the Greeks were unable to move from their position. Eventually, the Thracians were making it difficult for them even to get water, and in these extremely hazardous conditions the Greeks began to negotiate for a truce. The two sides were agreeing on everything, but the Thracians refused to give the Greeks the hostages they demanded and the negotiations broke down over this issue. So that is how the Arcadians fared.
Chirisophus marched unmolested along the coast and reached Calpe Harbour, and as for Xenophon, while he was making his way through the interior his horsemen, who had ridden on ahead, came across some old men who were travelling somewhere or other. The men were brought to Xenophon, and he asked them whether they had heard anything of another Greek army. They told him the whole story and said that the Greeks were at that moment being besieged on a hill, and were surrounded by a Thracian force at full strength.
Xenophon had the men put under close guard, because he wanted them to show him where to go, and once he had posted lookouts he called the troops to a meeting and said: ‘Men, some of the Arcadians have been killed and the rest are trapped on a hill. If they die, I think we will be in danger too, since there are so many of the enemy and they will be so elated by their victory. I think, then, that our best course of action is to go to help our comrades as quickly as we can. If they’re still alive, we can fight alongside them and we won’t be left to face a dangerous future alone and unaided. After all, there’s nowhere we can safely escape to from here: it’s a long way back to Heraclea, Chrysopolis is a long way ahead, and hostile forces are near by. The closest place is Calpe Harbour, where we take Chirisophus to be, if he has survived. It may be true that there are no ships there for us to sail away in and that there aren’t enough supplies for us to stay there for even a single day, but we’ll be worse off if the trapped troops are killed and we have to take our chances with only Chirisophus’ men than if they are saved and we unite and work together for our safety. No, we must carry on with our minds made up that now we may either die famous deaths or achieve the glorious result of rescuing so many fellow Greeks.
‘It may well be that this whole business is being directed by the god, in his desire to humble those who boasted and assumed that they knew best, and to grant us, who begin with the gods,* greater prestige than them. Nevertheless, you should follow my lead and be ready to carry out any order you receive. So let’s now march on until we judge it to be time to prepare the evening meal, and then let’s make camp. And while we’re on the march, let’s have Timasion ride ahead with the cavalry*—but not so far ahead that he loses sight of us—and reconnoitre what lies in front of us, so that we avoid any unpleasant surprises.’
With these words he began to lead the way forward. He deployed the most mobile of the light-armed men on the flanks and on the heights as escorts, so that they could warn the main body of the army of any threat they saw anywhere, and he gave the order that anything they came across which could be burnt was to be burnt. So the horsemen spread out over as wide an area as they sensibly could and set about burning things, while the peltasts set fire to everything combustible they found on the heights where they were marching parallel to the main army, and the rest of the troops set fire to anything they came across which had been overlooked. These measures had the effect of making the whole region seem ablaze and the army appear large.
When the time came, they climbed a hill and made camp. They could see the enemy’s fires at a distance of about forty stades and they lit as many fires as possible themselves too. As soon as they had finished eating, however, the order came that all the fires were to be extinguished. Then they posted guards and lay down to sleep for the night. At daybreak, they prayed to the gods, fell in as if for battle, and marched on with all possible haste. Timasion and the cavalry rode on ahead with the guides and, without realizing it, reached the hill where the Greeks had been trapped, but, as they reported back to Xenophon and the main body of the army, they found no troops there, either friendly or hostile. They found only those who had been left behind there—some feeble old women and men, a few sheep and goats, and some oxen. At first, they were puzzled as to what might have happened, but then they were told by the people who had been left behind that the Thracians had left after nightfall and that the Greeks had done likewise at dawn; but they said that they did not know where the Greeks had gone.
When Xenophon and his men heard this, they ate their midday meal, broke camp, and set out, because they wanted to join the others at Calpe Harbour as soon as possible; and as they were marching along they could see the tracks of the Arcadians and Achaeans on the Calpe road. When the two contingents joined up, they were delighted to see one another and greeted one another like brothers. The Arcadians asked Xenophon and his men why they had put out their fires. ‘At first,’ they said, ‘when we could no longer see your fires, we thought you were going to make a night attack on the enemy, and it occurred to us that it was fear of this that made the enemy leave too, because that was about when they left. But time passed and you still had not arrived, so we began to think that the information you had received about our situation had made you afraid, and that you had slipped away to the coast. It didn’t seem a good idea for us to fall too far behind you, so we too made our way here.’
[4] They bivouacked that day right there on the beach by the harbour. The place where they were, Calpe Harbour, is in the part of Thrace which is in Asia. This part of Thrace, which is on the right as one sails into the Euxine Sea, starts at the mouth of the Euxine and goes up to Heraclea. For a trireme propelled by oars it is a very long day’s journey from Byzantium to Heraclea, and there is no other friendly or Greek town between these two places, only Bithynian Thracians, whose treatment of any Greeks who fall into their hands as a result of shipwreck or whatever is said to be horrendous.
Calpe Harbour* is situated at the halfway point of the voyage from Byzantium to Heraclea or vice versa. It is a headland on the coast, and the bit which actually runs out into the sea is a sheer cliff, which at its lowest point is at least twenty fathoms high, while the neck, which connects the cape to the mainland, is about four plethra wide. The headland itself, beyond the neck, is large enough to accommodate ten thousand people. There is a harbour right under the cliff, with a west-facing beach and a freshwater spring which flows in generous quantities right by the sea and falls within the confines of the place. There is a great deal of timber of various kinds, but good-quality ship-building timber is especially abundant and grows right by the sea. A hilly ridge extends about twenty stades back into the mainland; the ridge itself is well covered with stone-free soil, while the land by the coast is thickly wooded for a distance of more than twenty stades with tall trees of all kinds. The rest of the region is fertile and plentiful, and there are a number of inhabited villages there, because the soil produces barley, wheat, all kinds of legumes, millet, sesame, a good number of figs, plenty of grapes which make a sweet wine, and so on and so forth—everything except olives.
This is what the region was like. The Greeks made their camp on the beach, by the sea, and demonstrated no desire to do so at the place which might have become a town. In fact, they thought that it had taken scheming, on the part of those who wanted to found a city there, even to come to this place. After all, most of the troops had set sail and undertaken this mercenary service not because they were hard up, but because they had heard of Cyrus’ magnanimity. Some had brought men with them and in some cases had also spent money on the expedition, while others had slipped away from their fathers and mothers or had left children behind, on the assumption that by the time they returned home they would have made some money for them, because they had heard that the other men in Cyrus’ service were doing very well for themselves. Since this is what they were like, they longed to get back safely to Greece.*
The day after the contingents had joined forces, Xenophon performed a sacrifice for an expedition, because they had to go out after provisions and he also intended to bury the dead. The omens were favourable, and the Arcadians went on the expedition with the rest. They buried most of the bodies right where they lay, because they had already been there for four days and it was no longer feasible to take them away. But they did collect some bodies from the roads and bury them as decently as circumstances allowed. There were still some bodies that they could not find, and for them they constructed a large cenotaph which they adorned with wreaths. Then they went back to the camp, ate their evening meal, and went to bed.
On the next day, the entire army assembled for a meeting, at the instigation above all of Agasias of Stymphalus, along with his fellow company commander Hieronymus of Elis and other senior Arcadians. The meeting resolved that in the future anyone who mentioned dividing the army should be put to death, and that the army should resume the structure it had before, with the former generals in command. By this time, Chirisophus had died after taking an anti-fever potion, so Neon of Asine took over his post.
Once these resolutions had been passed, Xenophon got to his feet and said: ‘It now seems clear, men, that we should continue our journey by land, since we have no ships. And we must get going immediately, because there are no provisions for us if we stay here. So we will perform sacrifices and you had better prepare yourselves at least as well as at any other time for fighting, because the enemy’s morale is high again.’
The generals then performed the sacrifice. The diviner who attended the sacrifice was Arexion of Arcadia, because by this time Silanus of Ambracia had slipped away on a boat he had hired at Heraclea. But when they sacrificed, the omens told against departure, so they performed no more sacrifices that day. Now, some people went so far as to say that, in his desire to found a settlement in the place, Xenophon had prevailed upon the diviner to say that the omens told against departure, so Xenophon had the herald announce that anyone who wanted to could attend the sacrifices the next day, and he ordered any diviners in the army to attend so that they could inspect the entrails alongside Arexion. Xenophon performed the sacrifices, then, with a large number of people present; but although he sacrificed three times to see about their departure, the omens continued to be unfavourable.
The troops were displeased at this, because the provisions they had come with had run out and no market had yet been set up there, so they held another meeting, and Xenophon addresssed them again. ‘Men,’ he said, ‘as you can see, the omens still forbid our travelling, but since I can see that you need provisions I think we should make just that issue the object of our sacrifices.’
Someone stood up and said, ‘It’s hardly surprising that the omens are unfavourable: I for one was told by the crew of a ship that coincidentally arrived here yesterday that Cleander, the harmost based in Byzantium, is going to come here with merchant ships and triremes.’
A proposal to stay where they were was therefore unanimously carried, but they still had to go out for provisions. Once again, as many as three sacrifices took place with regard to whether or not such an expedition should be made, and once again the omens were not propitious. By then people were even coming to Xenophon’s tent and complaining about their lack of provisions, but he refused to lead them out of the camp until the omens were favourable. Further sacrifices were carried out the following day, and almost the whole army gathered around the victims because everyone was concerned about the outcome. But the sacrifices failed to produce a propitious result.
The generals continued to refuse to lead the men out on a foraging expedition, but they convened them for a meeting, at which Xenophon said: ‘It’s possible that the enemy have formed themselves into an army, and that we shall have to fight. I’m wondering whether we should leave our baggage in the strongpoint, get ready for battle, and set out. Then, perhaps, the entrails will be more likely to give us a favourable result.’ In response to this suggestion the men shouted out that there was no need to take them first to the strong-point, but that the generals should just hurry up with the sacrifice. They had run out of sheep, but they bought a team of oxen and used them as the sacrificial victims. Xenophon asked Cleanor of Arcadia to initiate the sacrifice,† in case he could make a difference, but even under these circumstances the omens were unfavourable.
When Neon, who had replaced Chirisophus as general, saw how badly affected the men were by hunger, he wanted to do something for them. He found a man from Heraclea who told him that he knew of nearby villages where they could get provisions, and he had it announced that he would lead allcomers on a foraging expedition. About 2,000 men set out with poles, wineskins, sacks, and other containers. They came to the villages and were in the process of spreading out to gather provisions, when they were attacked by Pharnabazus’ cavalry, in the first place. These horsemen, who had come to help the Bithynians because they wanted to see if they could stop the Greeks reaching Phrygia, killed at least 500 men from the Greek army, while the remainder took refuge on the hills.
Some time later, one of the fugitives managed to bring the news back to the camp. Since the sacrifices had not turned out to be favourable that day, Xenophon took an ox from a team, for want of any other suitable victims, and, once he had sacrificed it, he and all the men below thirty years of age went to help their comrades. They rescued the survivors and got back to the camp. By then the sun was going down and the Greeks were preparing their evening meal in a state of deep despondency, when suddenly some Bithynians emerged from the woods and attacked the sentries; those they did not kill were chased back to the camp. Hearing shouts, all the Greeks ran to get their weapons, but decided that neither setting out in pursuit of the Bithynians nor moving camp in the darkness was a safe option, given that the region was so thickly wooded. So they posted a good number of sentries and spent the night under arms.
[5] At dawn, after a night spent like this, the generals led the way to the strongpoint and the men gathered their weapons and baggage and followed them. Before making time for their midday meal, they protected the way into the strongpoint with a trench and they also constructed a palisade which extended all along the trench, except that they left three gateways. A ship also arrived from Heraclea and brought them barley, sacrificial victims, and wine.
Xenophon got up early the next day and performed a sacrifice for a sortie, and with the first victim the omens were favourable. Also, just as the ritual was coming to an end, the diviner, Arexion of Parrhasia, saw an eagle in a position which boded well, and he told Xenophon that the sortie could go ahead. They crossed the trench and waited under arms, and the generals announced that, once they had finished eating, the troops were to march out, armed and ready, while the camp followers and the slaves were to be left behind. So the entire army marched out, except for Neon, since they had chosen him to stay behind to protect the camp and the people and property there. But his company commanders and soldiers began to desert him, because they were ashamed not to be involved in the sortie along with everyone else, so the generals left in the camp only those who were over forty-five years old.
While these men stayed behind, then, the rest marched out. Before they had gone fifteen stades, they began to come across corpses. Once the rear of the column had reached the first corpses to turn up, they set about burying all the bodies now encompassed by the column as a whole. After burying the first batch of bodies, they carried on until the rear had again drawn level with the first of the bodies which remained unburied, and then in the same way they set about burying all the bodies encompassed by the army. And when they reached the road out of the villages, where the bodies lay thick on the ground, they gathered the corpses together for mass burial.
By the early afternoon the army had reached the countryside outside the villages and was in the process of foraging for supplies, with each man collecting whatever he spotted within the area covered by the phalanx, when they suddenly saw a large force of enemy horsemen as well as foot soldiers coming over some hills in front of them in battle formation. It was in fact Spithridates* and Rhathines, who had been sent there by Pharnabazus with this body of men. Once the enemy had caught sight of the Greeks, they came to a halt about fifteen stades away. Arexion, the Greek diviner, lost no time in performing a sacrifice, and with the first victim the omens were favourable.
At this point Xenophon said to his fellow generals: ‘I think it would be a good idea to post some companies in reserve, as a precaution, so that they can help the front lines if help is needed at any point. The enemy, who will be in disarray, will then be attacking men who are still fresh and in battle formation.’ Everyone agreed that this was a good idea,* and Xenophon went on: ‘You should set out towards our opponents, because now that we’ve been spotted and can see the enemy, we don’t want to remain halted. I’ll join you once I’ve deployed the companies in the rear in keeping with your plan.’
So the rest of the men advanced in silence, while Xenophon detached the three final companies, each consisting of 200 men. He instructed one of the units, under the command of Samolas of Achaea, to come up behind the right of the front lines at a distance of about a plethron, and he deployed the second unit, under Pyrrhias of Arcadia, behind the centre, and the last one, with Phrasias of Athens in command, on the left.
As the Greeks advanced, the front line reached a deep ravine, where the going was awkward. They halted, uncertain whether or not they should cross it, and passed the word back for the generals and company commanders to come up to the front. Xenophon was puzzled: he did not know why their progress had been checked and as soon as he received the message he rode up as quickly as he could. When they were all together, Sophaenetus, the oldest of the generals,* said that there was no point in trying to cross such a difficult ravine.
Xenophon responded forcefully. ‘Men,’ he said, ‘you know that I’ve never deliberately brought you into the presence of danger. After all, as I see it, your goal is to stay alive; you don’t need to enhance your reputation for courage. But look at the situation we’re faced with: we can’t get away from here without a fight, because if we don’t take the fight to the enemy, they’ll just follow us and attack us when we leave. So what do you think? Is it better to advance against them with our weapons levelled or to have our weapons reversed* and watch them come at us from behind? But you know that no man of honour retreats from the enemy, and that pursuit makes even cowards confident. I for one would prefer to attack at half-strength than retreat with double our numbers, and I know that, if we attack, even you do not expect our opponents to stand up to us, whereas we’re all aware that if we retreat they’ll have the courage to pursue us.
‘In fact, crossing a difficult ravine and putting it behind us is actually an unmissable opportunity, isn’t it? I’d prefer the enemy to think they have easy terrain to cross—to retreat across, that is—while we should let the terrain teach us that our only chance of safety lies in victory. But I’m surprised that anyone would consider this ravine more formidable than the rest of the countryside we’ve just marched through. I mean, how is the plain to be crossed unless we defeat their cavalry? How are we to get back over the mountains with so many peltasts on our heels? And if we do get back safely to the sea, look at the size of the ravine that is the Euxine, since we have neither ships there to carry us away nor food to sustain us if we stay. In fact, the sooner we get back there, the sooner we shall have to leave again in search of provisions. It’s better, then, for us to fight now, with food already in our stomachs, than to fight tomorrow on empty stomachs. Men, the entrails were favourable, the birds of prey boded well, and the sacrificial victims left nothing to be desired. Let’s attack! Now that they’ve seen us, they must never again be allowed to enjoy a pleasant meal or to camp wherever they choose.’
The company commanders then told him to lead the way forward, and none of the generals raised an objection. So Xenophon took the lead, and he ordered every man to cross at the point of the ravine where he happened to find himself. His thinking was that the army would reach the other side en masse more quickly that way than if they filed across the bridge which spanned the ravine.
Once they had reached the other side, Xenophon rode along the lines and said: ‘Men, remember all the major battles in which you’ve engaged the enemy and defeated them, with the help of the gods, and remember what happens to those who flee from their foes. Bear in mind also that we are at the very threshold of Greece. With Heracles the Guide before you, encourage your companions by name. It is indeed a source of pleasure that anyone who now displays his courage and virtue by his words or his deeds will make his mark on precisely those people by whom he wants to be remembered.’
With these words, spoken as he rode along the line, he began to lead the troops forward in battle formation, and with the peltasts positioned on both flanks they set out against the enemy. The men had been told to keep their spears on their right shoulders until the trumpet sounded, when they were to lower them for attack, and their orders were to pursue the enemy at a steady pace, without breaking into a run. Next, the watchword was passed along the line: ‘Zeus the Saviour, Heracles the Guide.’ The enemy, thinking they had a favourable position, stood their ground. When there was little space between the two sides, the Greek peltasts raised a cry and charged at the enemy before any order to do so had been given, and the enemy troops—both the cavalry and the horde of Bithynians—raced to meet the peltasts and routed them. But the hoplite phalanx continued to advance at a brisk pace, and blasts rang simultaneously from the trumpet; the Greeks struck up a paean, and then they raised the battle-cry and lowered their spears at the same time; and at this the enemy formation crumbled and they turned to flight.
Timasion and the cavalry set out in pursuit and killed as many men as such a small force could. But although the enemy’s left wing, against which the Greek horsemen had been deployed, was scattered straight away, the right wing, which was not being very vigorously pursued, rallied on a hill.
When the Greeks noticed that this enemy detachment was standing its ground, they decided that the easiest and least risky plan was to attack it straight away. They immediately struck up the paean and launched an assault. The enemy troops gave way and then it was the turn of the Greek peltasts to set out in pursuit, until the right wing had been dispersed. They did not inflict many casualties, however, because they were frightened of the enemy cavalry, which was a sizeable force. Nevertheless, when the Greeks saw that Pharnabazus’ cavalry was still together, and that Bithynian horsemen were also joining them and surveying events from a hill, they decided that, despite their exhaustion, they had to launch the strongest possible attack on the cavalry too, to stop them resting and recovering their morale. So they regrouped and advanced on them—and then, just as if they were being chased by men on horseback, the enemy horsemen raced away downhill. There was a glen where they could find shelter, although the Greeks were not aware of it and broke off their pursuit early;* it was, after all, late in the day. They returned to where they had first engaged the enemy and set up a trophy, before withdrawing to their camp on the coast, about sixty stades away, as the sun was setting.
[6] After this, the enemy steered clear of the Greeks and took both their slaves and their livestock as far away as possible. The Greeks waited for Cleander and the triremes and ships which were supposed to be coming, but every day they left the camp with the yoke-animals and the slaves and fearlessly fetched wheat and barley, wine, legumes, millet, and figs; the only desirable product the land lacked was olives. Even when the army stayed in the camp and rested, individuals were allowed to go out foraging. On these private expeditions, individuals kept what they took, but it was resolved that when the whole army went out, anything anyone got hold of, even if he had gone off on his own, was to be common property.
Before long, they had a generous stock of everything, because traders arrived from Greek communities all over the place, and people sailing past were glad to come to shore, since they had heard that a city was being founded and that there was a harbour there. Even the hostile inhabitants of nearby settlements kept sending delegations to Xenophon (who they had heard was founding the colony) to ask him what they had to do to be on friendly terms with him. Xenophon always let the troops see these envoys.*
Meanwhile, Cleander arrived with two triremes but not a single merchant ship. It so happened that the army was away from the camp when he arrived, and certain individuals, who had gone foraging here and there in the hills and had captured a lot of sheep and goats, talked to Dexippus* (the man who had slipped away from Trapezus with the fifty-oared warship), because they were afraid that their booty would be taken away from them, and asked him to keep the sheep and goats safe for them, on the understanding that he could keep some for himself and return the rest to them later. Dexippus immediately began to shoo away some soldiers who were standing around and arguing that the sheep and goats were common property, and then he went straight to Cleander and told him that the soldiers were trying to steal the sheep and goats.
Cleander told Dexippus to bring him the thief. Dexippus seized one of the men and started to take him to Cleander, but Agasias met them and made Dexippus release the man he had arrested, who was a soldier in Agasias’ company. The other soldiers who were there started throwing stones at Dexippus and calling him ‘traitor’. A lot of sailors from the triremes became afraid and ran to the shore, and Cleander wanted to leave too, but Xenophon and the other soldiers tried to stop him. They told Cleander that there was no real problem and explained that it was the army’s regulation which was responsible for what had happened. But Cleander, egged on by Dexippus and angry of his own accord at having been frightened, said that he would sail away and would direct every city to treat them as enemies and refuse them shelter. Now, at that time all Greeks were ruled by the Spartans, so this was a bad business, in the opinion of the Greek soldiers, and they begged Cleander not to carry out his threat. He replied that nothing would change unless they handed over the man who had instigated the stone-throwing and the one who had removed the prisoner from Dexippus. It was Agasias he was asking for, and Agasias had been a friend of Xenophon from the beginning—which was exactly why Dexippus was trying to get him into trouble.
No one really knew what to do, and so the commanding officers assembled the troops. Some of them were inclined to discount Cleander, but Xenophon did not regard the business as trivial, and he got to his feet and said: ‘Men, I think it would be a serious matter if Cleander were to leave with the intention of hurting us as he threatened. After all, the Greek cities are now not far away, and the Spartans are the masters of Greece and, collectively or individually, are in a position to accomplish whatever they like in the cities. So if Cleander, in the first place, bars us from Byzantium and then commands all the other harmosts to refuse us entry into their cities on the grounds of our unruliness and disobedience to Spartan orders, and if, in the second place, this report about us reaches Anaxibius, the Spartan naval commander, then staying put and sailing away from here will both be equally hard, since at the moment the Spartans are supreme both on land and at sea.
‘Now, the rest of us must not be prevented from reaching Greece by concern for one or two men. We have to obey any and every Spartan command, because our native cities are obedient to Sparta. Dexippus, I’m informed, is telling Cleander that Agasias would never have done what he did unless I had ordered him to do so, and therefore, for my part, I hereby absolve you collectively, and Agasias in particular, from any blame, if Agasias himself says that I was responsible for what happened. And I hereby pronounce my own sentence: if I initiated the stone-throwing or any other act of violence, I deserve the ultimate penalty and I shall submit to it. I also think that anyone else Dexippus accuses of these crimes ought to make himself available to Cleander for judgement, since that will mean that no blame will be attached to the rest of you. But as things stand at the moment, it will be hard if we, who expected to meet with praise and prestige in Greece, find instead that we’re worse off than everyone else, with the Greek cities closed to us.’
Agasias was the next to get to his feet. ‘Men,’ he said, ‘I swear by all the gods and goddesses that neither Xenophon nor anyone else here ordered me to rescue the man. When I saw a good man, one of my own company, being taken away by Dexippus– who betrayed you, as you know– I couldn’t stand it, and I freely admit that I rescued him. You don’t have to hand me over; as Xenophon suggests, I shall make myself available to Cleander for judgement and he can deal with me as he sees fit. Don’t make this a reason to incur the Spartans’ hostility; no, each of you must get back, alive and well, to his chosen destination. But I’d like you to select some of your own number to go with me to Cleander, so that if I leave anything out of my defence, they can speak on my behalf and come to my support.’
In response the army allowed him to choose for himself whoever he wanted to accompany him, and he chose the generals. Agasias then made his way to Cleander, along with the generals and the man he had rescued. The generals said: ‘We are here, Cleander, on a mission from the army. Here’s their request. If you’re accusing all of them collectively of the crime, they would like you to assess the case yourself and deal with them as you see fit. But if you’re accusing one or two or a few individuals, they’re asking these men to make themselves available to you for judgement. So if you’re accusing any one of us, here we are; if you’re accusing someone who isn’t here just now, tell us his name and he will appear before you, as long as he’s prepared to do as we say’
Then Agasias stepped forward and said: ‘Cleander, it is I who rescued the man Dexippus had arrested and who gave the order to rough Dexippus up. You see, I know that the man is a good soldier—and I also know that when Dexippus was chosen by the army to take charge of the fifty-oared warship which we requested from the people of Trapezus, on the understanding that he would use it to collect merchant ships for us to sail safely home in, he slipped away and betrayed his comrades in arms, who had been instrumental in keeping him alive. As far as the Trapezuntians are concerned, we are criminals who stole their warship—and it was Dexippus’ doing. But for all he cares we might as well be dead ourselves. After all, he had heard, along with the rest of us, how difficult it was going to be for us, if we continued by land, to cross the rivers and get safely home to Greece. So this is the man from whom I rescued the soldier. If it had been you or any of your officers who had arrested the man, and not one of our deserters, you can be sure that I wouldn’t have done a thing. You should bear in mind that, if you put me to death, you will be killing a good man because of an untrustworthy coward.’
After listening to these speeches, Cleander said that although Dexippus’ actions—if he had done what Agasias said—did not meet with his approval, nevertheless, even if Dexippus were an out-and-out criminal, violence should still not have been used against him. ‘He should first have been tried,’ he said, ‘which is, after all, what you’re asking of me now, and then have been punished. Leave this man with me and go away for the time being, and then present yourselves for his trial when I call for you. I no longer hold the army as a whole or any other individual responsible, now that he has admitted that he took the man away from Dexippus.’
The man who had been rescued by Agasias said: ‘Cleander, just in case you think that I had been arrested for some offence, I’d like you to know that I didn’t hit or throw stones at anyone. All I did was say that the sheep and goats were common property, because it was the decision of the assembled army that booty taken by an individual when the army was out foraging was to be common property. That’s what I said, and then this man Dexippus grabbed hold of me and started to take me away, because he didn’t want anyone to say anything. He wanted to keep the booty safe for the thieves– after taking his share—in violation of the decree.’*
‘Since you’re so keen,’ Cleander said, ‘you can stay behind, so that we can decide what to do in your case too.’
Cleander and his staff then ate their midday meal, while Xenophon assembled the troops and advised them to send a delegation to Cleander to plead for their comrades. The troops decided to send the generals and company commanders, along with Dracontius the Spartiate* and anyone else who seemed right for the job, to do all they could to get Cleander to release the two men.
So Xenophon went to Cleander and said: ‘Cleander, you have the men, and the troops have left it up to you to do what you think best with them and indeed with the army as a whole. But now their urgent request is that you should give them the two men and not kill them, because both of them have in the past worked long and hard for the army. If you grant this request of theirs, they in turn guarantee that if you want to be their commander and if the gods look favourably upon your holding such a position, they’ll give you clear proof of their discipline and will show you that they’re capable of fearlessly facing their enemies, with the help of the gods, while obeying their leader’s commands. And they have one more request: that when you have come and taken over command of the army, you should deal with Dexippus and the rest of them as they deserve, once you have first-hand experience both of his character and of theirs.’
‘By the Twin Gods,’* said Cleander in reply, ‘you won’t have to wait long for my response to this request. I hereby return the two men to you, and I will come to join you. If the gods make it possible, I shall lead you home to Greece. What you’ve just said is quite different from what some people have been telling me about you—that you wanted your army to defy Spartan authority’
After this, the delegates thanked him and left with the two men, and Cleander began to sacrifice for the return journey. He and Xenophon spent some time together, got on well, and agreed to be each other’s guest-friend.* When Cleander saw that the men carried out their orders in a disciplined manner, he wanted even more to be their commander, but although he sacrificed for three days, the omens were not favourable. So he called the generals to a meeting and said: ‘The omens do not favour my leading you away from here, but don’t let this make you downhearted. It is your lot, apparently, to take the army onward. Carry on, then, and when you reach your journey’s end, we will make you as welcome as we can.’
After this, the soldiers decided to give him the sheep and goats which were common property, and he accepted the gift, but gave it back to them. Then he sailed away, and once the troops had sold the grain they had collected and the rest of their booty they set out through Bithynia. But the direct route failed to produce the kind of contacts which would allow them to reach friendly territory with something in hand, so they decided to turn around and march in the opposite direction for a day and a night. This enabled them to capture a great many slaves, sheep, and goats, and five days later they arrived in Chrysopolis, in Chalcedonia, where they stayed for seven days selling their booty.