The Sacred War


There were two places in Greece which had been set aside as

sacred,--Plataea, the scene of the final defeat of the Persian invaders,

and Delphi, the seat of the great temple of Apollo, in whose oracles all

Greece placed faith. We have already seen how little the sacredness of

Plataea protected it from ruin. We have next to see how the sacredness of

Delphi was condemned, and how all Greece suffered in consequence.



The temple of Apollo at Delphi had long been held so inviolate that it

became a rich reservoir of treasures, gathered throughout the centuries.

Croesus, the rich king of Lydia, sent thither the overflow of his

wealth, and hundreds of others paid liberally for the promises of the

priestess, until the treasures of Delphi became a by-word in Greece.

This vast wealth was felt to be safe. The god would protect his own.

Men's voices were deep with awe when they told how the wrath of Apollo

had overthrown the Persian robbers who sought to rifle his holy fane.

And yet the time came when a horde of bandit Greeks made the temple

their prey and the hand of the god was not lifted in its defence, nor

did outraged Greece rise to punish the sacrilegious robbers. This is the

tale that we have next to tell, that of the so-called Sacred War, with

all it meant to Greece.



There was a great Greek council, centuries old, called the

Amphictyonic. It met twice every year, usually for religious purposes,

rarely for political. But in the time we have now reached this

Amphictyonic Council ventured to meddle in politics, and made mischief

of the direst character. Its first political act was to fine Sparta five

hundred talents for seizing the citadel of Thebes in times of peace. The

fine was to be doubled if not paid within a certain time. But as Sparta

sneered at the fine, and neither paid it nor its double, the action of

the council proved of little avail.






This was of small importance; it was to the next act of the council that

the mischief was due. The people of the small state of Phocis, adjoining

Delphi, had been accused of cultivating a part of the Cirrhaean plain,

which was consecrated to Apollo. This charge, like the former, was

brought by Thebes, and the Amphictyonic Council, having fined Sparta,

now, under Theban influence, laid a fine on the Phocians so heavy that

it was far beyond their means of payment. But Sparta had not paid; why

should they? The sentence troubled them little.



At the next meeting of the council severer measures were taken. Sparta

was strong; Phocis weak. It was resolved to seize all its territory and

consecrate it to Apollo. This unjust sentence roused the Phocians. A

bold citizen, Philomelus by name, told them that they must now face war

or ruin. The district of Delphi had once been theirs, and had been taken

from them wrongfully. "Let us assert our lost rights and seize the

temple," he said. "The Thebans want it; let us anticipate them and take

back our own."



His words took fire. A strong force was raised, the town and temple were

attacked, and both, being practically undefended, were quickly captured.

Phocis had regained her own, for Delphi had been taken from her during

an older "Sacred War."



Philomelus now announced that the temple and its oracles would not be

meddled with. Its treasures would be safe. Visitors would be free to

come and go. He would give any security that Greece required that the

wealth of Apollo should be safe and all go on as before. But he

fortified the town, and invited mercenary soldiers till he had an army

of five thousand men. As for the priestess of Apollo, from whose lips

the oracles came, he demanded that she should continue to be inspired as

before, and should give an oracle in his favor. The priestess refused;

whereupon he seized her and sought to drag her to the holy tripod on

which she was accustomed to sit. The woman, scared by his violence,

cried out, "You may do what you choose!"



Philomelus at once proclaimed this as an oracle in his favor, and

published it widely. And it is interesting to learn that many of the

superstitious Greeks took his word for it. He certainly took the word of

the priestess,--for he did what he chose.



War at once began. Many of the Greek states rose at the call of the

condemned Amphictyonic Council. The Phocians were in imminent peril.

They were far from strong enough for the war they had invoked. Mercenary

troops--"soldiers of fortune"--must be hired; and to hire them money

must be had. The citizens of Delphi had already been taxed; the Phocian

treasury was empty; where was money to be obtained?



Philomelus settled this question by borrowing, with great reluctance,

a sum from the temple treasures,--to be paid back as soon as possible.

But as the war went on and more money was needed, he borrowed again and

again,--now without reluctance. And the practice of robbery once

started, he not only paid his troops, but enriched his friends and

adorned his wife from Apollo's hoarded wealth.



By this means Philomelus got together an army of ten thousand

men,--reckless, dissolute characters, the impious scum of Greece, for no

pious Greek would enlist in such a cause. The war was ferocious. The

allies put their prisoners to death. Philomelus followed their example.

This was a losing game, and both sides gave it up. At length Philomelus

and his army were caught in an awkward position, the army was dispersed,

and he driven to the verge of a precipice, where he must choose between

captivity or death. He chose the latter and leaped from the beetling

crags.



The Thebans and their allies foolishly believed that with the death of

Philomelus the war was at an end, and marched for their homes.

Onomarchus, another Phocian leader, took the opportunity thus afforded

to gather the scattered army together again, seized the temple once

more, and stood in defiance of all his foes.



In addition to gold and silver, the treasury contained many gifts in

brass and iron. The precious metals were melted and converted into

money; of the baser metals arms were made. Onomarchus went farther than

Philomelus; he not only paid his troops with the treasure, but bribed

the leaders of Grecian states, and thus gained powerful friends. He was

soon successfully at war, drove back his foes, and pressed his conquests

till he had captured Thermopylae and invaded Thessaly.



Here the Phocians came into contact with a foe dangerous to themselves

and to all Greece. This foe was the celebrated Philip of Macedonia, a

famous soldier who was to play a leading part in the subsequent game. He

had long been paving the way to the conquest of Greece, and the Sacred

War gave him just the opportunity he wanted.



Macedonia lay north of Greece. Its people were not Greeks, nor like

Greeks in their customs. They lived in the country, not in cities, and

had little or none of the culture of Greece. But they were the stuff

from which good soldiers are made. Hitherto this country had been hardly

thought of as an element in the Grecian problem. Its kings were despots

who had been kept busy with their foes at home. But now a king had

arisen of wider views and larger mould. Philip had spent his youth in

Thebes, where he had learned the art of war under Epaminondas. On coming

to the throne he quickly proved himself a great soldier and a keen and

cunning politician. By dint of war and trickery he rapidly spread his

dominions until all his home foes were subdued, Macedonia was greatly

extended, and Thessaly, the most northern state of Greece, was overrun.



Therefore the invasion of Thessaly by the Phocians brought them into

contact with the Macedonians. At first Onomarchus was successful. He won

two battles and drove Philip back to his native state. But another large

army was quickly in the field, and this time the army of Onomarchus was

utterly beaten and himself slain. As for Philip, although he probably

cared not an iota for the Delphian god, he shrewdly professed to be on a

crusade against the impious Phocians, and drowned all his prisoners as

guilty of sacrilege.



A third leader, Phayllus by name, now took command of the Phocians, and

the temple of Apollo was rifled still more freely than before. The

splendid gifts of King Croesus had not yet been touched. They were

held too precious to be meddled with. But Phayllus did not hesitate to

turn these into money. One hundred and seventeen ingots of gold and

three hundred and sixty golden goblets went to the melting-pot, and with

them a golden statue three cubits high and a lion of the same precious

metal. And what added to the horror of pious Greece was that much of the

proceeds of these precious treasures was lavished on favorites. The

necklaces of Helen and Eriphyle were given to dissolute women, and a

woman flute-player received a silver cup and a golden wreath from the

temple hoard.



All this gave Philip of Macedonia the desired pretence. He marched

against the Phocians, who held Thermopylae, while keeping his Athenian

enemies quiet by lies and bribes. The leader of the Phocian garrison,

finding that no aid came from the Athenian fleet, surrendered to

Philip, and that astute monarch won what he had long schemed for, the

Pass of Thermopylae, the Key of Greece.



The Sacred War was at an end, and with it virtually the independence of

Greece. Phocis was in the hands of Philip, who professed more than ever

to be the defender and guardian of Apollo. All the towns in Phocis were

broken up into villages, and the inhabitants were ordered to be fined

ten talents annually till they had paid back all they had stolen from

the temple. Philip gave back the temple to the Delphians, and was

himself voted into membership in the Amphictyonic assembly in place of

the discarded Phocians. And all this took place while a treaty of peace

tied the hands of the Greeks. The Sacred War had served as a splendid

pretext to carry out the ambitious plans of the Macedonian king.



We have now a long story to tell in a few words. Another people, the

Locrians, had also made an invasion on Delphian territory. The

Amphictyonic Council called on Philip to punish them, He at once marched

southward, but, instead of meddling with the Locrians, seized and

fortified a town in Phocis. At once Athens, full of alarm, declared war,

and Philip was as quick to declare war in return. Both sides sought the

support of Thebes, and Athens gained it. In August, 338 B.C., the

Grecian and Macedonian armies met and fought a decisive battle near

Chaeronea, a Boeotian town. In this great contest Alexander the Great

took part.



It was a hotly-contested fight, but in the end Philip triumphed, and

Greece was lost. Thebes was forced to yield. Athens, to regain the

prisoners held by Philip, acknowledged him to be the head of Greece. All

the other states did the same except Sparta, which defied him. He

ravaged Laconia, but left the city untouched.



Two years afterwards Philip, lord and master of Greece, was assassinated

at the marriage feast of his daughter. His son Alexander succeeded him.

Here seemed an opportunity for Greece to regain her freedom. This

untried young man could surely not retain what his able father had won.

Demosthenes, the celebrated orator, stirred up Athens to revolt. Thebes

sprang to arms and attacked the Macedonian garrison in the citadel.



They did not know the man with whom they had to deal. Alexander came

upon Thebes like an avalanche, took it by assault, and sold into slavery

all the inhabitants not slain in the assault. The city was razed to the

ground. This terrible example dismayed the rest of Greece.

Submission--with the exception of that of Sparta--was universal. The

independence of Greece was at an end. More than two thousand years were

to pass before that country would again be free.



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