Marathon, which was originally one of the four cities, founded by an Attic king, who gave it his name, is now little better than a village. The plain in which it is situated is, says Mr. Dodwell, "one of the prettiest spots in Attica, and is enriched with many kinds of fruit-trees: particularly walnuts, figs, pomegranates, pears, and cherries. On our arrival, the fine country girls, with attractive looks and smiling faces, brought us baskets of fruit. Some of them appeared unwilling to accept our money in return; and the spontaneous civility and good-humour of the inhabitants soon convinced us that we were in Attica, where they are more courteous to strangers than in other parts of Greece."

This city was but a small one, indeed it was often called a village; yet a deathless interest is attached to it; for just beside it was fought the battle between the Persians and the Athenians, which is, even at this day, more known and respected than any other recorded in history. We shall, therefore, give an abstract of the account of the battle, as it is stated in Rollin, and then show in what condition the city is at the present time.

Miltiades, like an able captain, endeavoured, by the advantage of the ground, to gain what he wanted in strength and number. He drew up his army at the foot of a mountain, that the enemy should not be able to surround him, or charge him in the rear. On the two sides of his army he caused large trees to be cut and thrown down, in order to cover his flanks, and render the Persian cavalry useless. Datis, their commander, was sensible that the place was not advantageous for him: but, relying upon the number of his troops, which was infinitely superior to that of the Athenians, he determined to engage. The Athenians did not wait for the enemy's charging them. As soon as the signal for battle was given, they ran against the enemy with all the fury imaginable. The Persians looked upon this first step of the Athenians as a piece of madness, considering their army was so small, and utterly destitute both of cavalry and archers; but they were quickly undeceived. Herodotus observes, that "this was the first time the Grecians began an engagement by running in this manner." The battle was fierce and obstinate. Miltiades had made the wings of his army exceedingly strong, but had left the main body more weak, and not deep; the reason of which seems manifest enough. Having but ten thousand men to oppose to such a numerous army, it was impossible for him either to make a large front, or to give an equal depth to his battalion. He was therefore obliged to take his choice; and he imagined that he could gain the victory in no other way than by the efforts he should make with his two wings, in order to break and disperse those of the Persians; not doubting, but when his wings were once victorious, they should be able to attack the enemy's main body in flank, and complete the victory without much difficulty.[350] The Persians then attacked the main body of the Grecian army, and made their greatest effort particularly upon their front. This was led by Aristides and Themistocles, who supported it a long time with an intrepid courage and bravery, but were at length obliged to give ground. At that very instant came up their two victorious wings, which had dispersed those of the enemy, and put them to flight. Nothing could be more seasonable for the main body of the Grecian army, which began to be broken, being quite borne down by the number of the Persians. The scale was quickly turned, and the barbarians were entirely routed. They all betook themselves to their heels and fled; not towards their camp, but to their ships, that they might escape. The Athenians pursued them thither, and set their ships on fire. They took, also, seven of their ships. They had not above two hundred men killed on their side in this engagement; whereas, on the side of the Persians, above six thousand were slain, without reckoning those who fell into the sea, as they endeavoured to escape, or those that were consumed with the ships set on fire. Immediately after the battle, an Athenian soldier, still reeking with the blood of the enemy, quitted the army, and ran to Athens to carry his fellow-citizens the happy news of the victory. When he arrived at the magistrate's house, he only uttered two or three words:—"Rejoice, rejoice, the victory is ours!" and fell down dead at their feet.

In an excavation, made in one of the tumuli, some years ago, were found a number of busts;—of Socrates, Lucius Verus, and Marcus Aurelius, with another of an unknown person, sculptured with great care, and happily finished.

The unknown bust is supposed to be that of Herodes Atticus, a native of this city, and greatly distinguished. His history is exceedingly curious. We take it from Sir George Wheler.

"He flourished about the time of the emperors Trajan, Adrian, Antoninus Pius, and Marcus Aurelius. His grandfather Hipparchus, or as Suidas has it, Plutarchus, was well to pass in the world, but having been accused of some tyrannical practices, used towards the people, the emperor confiscated all his estates; so that his son, Atticus, father of this Herod; lived afterwards in Athens in a mean condition; until, having found a great hidden treasure in his own house, near the theatre, he became on a sudden very rich. He was not more fortunate in lending it, than prudent in getting it confirmed on himself; for well knowing, should it come to be discovered, he should be obliged to give an account of it to the emperor, he wrote thus:—'My liege, I have found a treasure in my house; what do you command that I should do with it?' The emperor answered him, 'That he should make use of what he had found.' But Atticus, yet fearing that he might be in danger of some trouble, when the greatness of the treasure should come to be known, wrote a second time to the emperor, professing ingenuously, that the treasure he had written to him about was too great a possession for him, and exceeded the capacity of a private man. But the emperor answered him again with the same generosity, 'Abuse, also, if thou wilt, the riches thou hast so accidentally come by; for they are thine.' By this means, Atticus became again extremely rich and powerful, having married a wife also that was very rich, whence it came to pass that his son and heir Herodes far surpassed his father both in wealth and magnificence, and became the founder of many stately edifices in sundry parts of Greece; and, dying, left by his will ten crowns to every citizen of Athens. Neither did he partake less of virtue and merit than he did of fortune; being very learned, and so eloquent, that he was called the tongue of Athens; having been the disciple of the famous Phavorinus. Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus, emperors of his time, made it their glory that they had been his auditors. His entire name was Tiberius Claudius Atticus Herodes; as I prove by an inscription that is at Athens, in the house of Signor Nicoli Limbonia."—Thus far, Sir George Wheler. Chandler goes on to observe, that Herodes Atticus directed his freed-men to bury him at Marathon; where he died, at the age of seventy-six. But the Ephebi, or young men of Athens, transported his body on their shoulders to the city, a multitude meeting the bier, and weeping like children for the loss of a parent.

The antiquities of this plain resolve themselves into the tomb of the Athenians, the monument of Miltiades, and the tomb of the PlatÆans. Dr. Clarke found also many interesting relics, for an account of which we must refer to his Travels, in order that we may find space for some beautiful remarks, with which he closes his very agreeable account. "If there be a spot upon earth, pre-eminently calculated to awaken the solemn sentiments, which such a view of nature is fitted to make upon all men, it may surely be found in the plain of Marathon; where, amidst the wreck of generations, and the graves of ancient heroes, we elevate our thoughts towards Him, 'in whose sight a thousand years are but as yesterday;' where the stillness of Nature, harmonizing with the calm solitude of that illustrious region, which once was a scene of the most agitated passions, enables us, by the past, to determine of the future. In those moments, indeed, we may be said to live for ages;—a single instant, by the multitude of impressions it conveys, seems to anticipate for us a sense of that eternity 'when time shall be no more;' when the fitful dream of human existence, with all its turbulent illusions, shall be dispelled; and the last sun having set, in the last of the world, a brighter dawn than ever gladdened the universe, shall renovate the dominions of darkness and of death."[351]