A.C. 201.

We now come to a siege which, from being unconnected with any rise or fall of empires, or being made or resisted by any extraordinary personages, may be passed by without particular notice by many readers of history; and yet what horrors are crowded into this short scene; what a picture it presents for human nature to shudder at!

Philip, king of Macedon, father of Perseus, who proved last monarch of that country, was at war with the Rhodians. The inhabitants of Abydos made common cause with that commercial people, who often came to visit the shores of the Dardanelles. Philip was successful in his passage through Thrace and the Chersonesus, where many cities surrendered to his arms, but Abydos shut its gates against him, and prepared for a bold resistance. We need not, in our time, go into any description of the situation of this city: the East is now more familiar to the inhabitants of central England than Cornwall or the isles of Scotland. But Abydos was of more importance in the days of Philip than now; the Dardanelles may still be of consequence as keys to the straits, but this was then a wealthy commercial city and entrepÔt. Nothing of what is usually practised in such warlike proceedings was omitted in this siege. No place was ever defended with more bravery; but this bravery, in the end, degenerated into brutality and fury. Confiding in their own strength, the Abydenians repulsed the first attacks of the Macedonians with the greatest vigour. On the side next the sea, the machines no sooner came forward than they were immediately either dismounted by the balistÆ or consumed by fire. Even the ships on which they were mounted were in danger, and were saved with difficulty. On the land side they also defended themselves for some time with great courage, and did not despair even of defeating the enemy. But, finding that the outer wall was sapped, and that the Macedonians were carrying their mines under the inner one, they sent deputies to Philip, offering to surrender upon the following terms:—That such forces as had been sent to them by the Rhodians and King Attalus should return to their respective sovereigns, under his safe conduct; and that all free citizens should retire whithersoever they pleased, with the clothes they had then on. Philip answered coolly, that the Abydenians had only to choose whether they would surrender at discretion, or continue to defend themselves bravely. This report being made by the deputies, the besieged, in transports of despair, assembled to debate what was best to be done. They came to the following resolutions:—First, that the slaves should be all set free, to animate them to defend the city; secondly, that all the women should be shut up in the Temple of Diana, and all the children, with their nurses, in the Gymnasium; that they should bring into the great square all the gold and silver in the city, and carry all the rest of the valuable effects to the vessels of the Rhodians and the Cyzicenians. These resolutions having passed unanimously, another assembly was called, in which they chose fifty of the wisest and most ancient of the citizens, but who at the same time had vigour enough left to execute what might be determined on; and they were made to take an oath, in presence of all the inhabitants, that the instant they saw the enemy master of the inner wall, they would kill the women and children, set fire to the galleys laden with their effects, and throw into the sea all their gold and silver, which they had heaped together: then, sending for their priests, they took an oath either to conquer or die, sword in hand; and, after having sacrificed the victims, they obliged the priests and priestesses to pronounce before the altar the greatest curses on those who should break their oath. This being done, they left off countermining, and resolved, the instant the wall should fall, to fly to the breach, and to fight till the last. Accordingly, the inward wall tumbling down, the besieged, true to the oath they had taken, fought in the breach with such unparalleled bravery, that, though Philip had perpetually sustained with fresh soldiers those who had mounted to the assault, yet, when night separated the combatants, he was still doubtful with regard to the success of the siege. Such Abydenians as marched first to the breach, over heaps of slain, fought with fury, and not only made use of their swords and javelins, but after their arms were broken to pieces, or forced out of their hands, they rushed headlong upon the Macedonians, knocked some down, and broke the long spears of others, and with the pieces struck their faces and such parts of their bodies as were uncovered, till they made them absolutely despair of the event. When night put an end to the slaughter, the breach was quite covered with the dead bodies of the Abydenians; and those who had escaped were so overwhelmed with fatigue, and had received so many wounds, that they could hardly support themselves. Things being come to this dreadful extremity, two of the principal citizens, being unable to bring themselves to execute the awful task they had undertaken, and which now came before them as a horrid reality, agreed that, to save their wives and children, they should send to Philip by daybreak all their priests and priestesses, clothed in their pontifical habits, to implore his mercy, and open the gates to him. Accordingly, next morning, the city was surrendered to Philip, whilst the greatest part of the Abydenians who survived vented millions of imprecations against their two fellow-citizens, but more particularly against the priests and priestesses for delivering up to the enemy those whom themselves had devoted to death with the most solemn oaths. Philip marched into the city, and seized, without opposition, all the rich effects which the Abydenians had collected together. But now he beheld a spectacle which might have terrified even an ambitious monarch or a conqueror. Among these ill-fated citizens, whom despair had made furious and distracted, some were smothering their wives and children, and others stabbing them with their own hands; some were running after them to strangle them, others were plunging them into wells, whilst again others were precipitating them from the tops of houses; in a word, death appeared in all its variety of terrors. Philip, penetrated with horror and grief at this spectacle, stopped the soldiers, who were eager to plunder, and published the strange declaration that he would allow three days to all who were resolved to lay violent hands on themselves. He was in hopes that in that interval they would change their determination: but their resolution was fixed. They thought it would be degenerating from those who had lost their lives in defending their country, if they should survive them. The individuals of every family killed one another, and none escaped this murderous sacrifice but a few whose hands were tied, or were otherwise kept, by force, from destroying themselves. And Philip, during the three days, satisfied his ideas of humanity by refraining from plundering the city he saw burning, and by beholding a people destroy each other, whom he might have saved with a word!