Arcadia. Sir Philip Sidney
of this, my lord Kalander. Let us labor to find before we lament the loss. You know I miss one myself, one for whom I would disdain the favor of life, though he is not my son. But while there is hope left, let not the weakness of sorrow make the strength of it languish. Take comfort, and good success will follow.”
With those words, comfort seemed to lighten in Kalander’s eyes, and in his face and gesture victory was painted. His spirits revived after he received some sustenance and took a little rest, and he armed himself. Those few of his servants whom he had left unsent then guided Palladius to the frontier, where already there were three to four thousand men assembled, all well-disposed to abide any peril for Kalander’s sake. But like men used to a long peace, they were more determinate to do than skillful how to do. Their bodies were lusty and their armor splendid, but their courage was such that it rather grew of despising their enemies (whom they knew not) than of any confidence in anything which they themselves knew—neither cunning use of their weapons, nor art in their marching or encamping. Palladius soon perceived their lack of skill.
Wishing to understand the estate of the Helots, as much as could be told to him, he was answered by a man well acquainted with the affairs of Laconia that they were a people who had been free men and possessioners of old, before the Laconians conquered them and laid not only tribute but bondage upon them. They had borne this for a long time, until recently the Laconians grew (through greediness) heavier than the Helots could endure and (through contempt) less careful how to make them bear. Therefore the Helots had set themselves in arms by a general consent that sprang from the generalness of their cause more than from any artificial practice.
Whetting their courage with revenge, and grounding their resolution upon despair, the Helots had proceeded with unlooked-for success. They had already taken various towns and castles with the slaughter of many of the gentry, for whom neither sex nor age could be accepted for an excuse. Although at first they had fought rather with beastly fury than any soldierly discipline, practice had now made them comparable to the best of the Lacedemonians, and more of late than before. The reason is that the great lord Demagoras had made himself of that party, and since his death, they had gotten another captain, who had brought up their ignorance and brought down their fury to a mean of good government. He led them so valorously that (besides the time wherein Clitophon was taken) they had the better in some great conflicts. For that reason the estate of Lacedemon had sent unto them, offering peace with reasonable and honorable conditions.
Palladius, having gotten his general knowledge of the party against whom he was to fight, as he had already of the party for whom he was to fight, went to Kalander and told him plainly that by plain force there was small appearance of helping Clitophon, but some device must be taken in hand, wherein no less discretion than valor must be used.
For that reason, a council of the chief men was called, and at last Palladius (who by some experience, but especially by reading histories, was acquainted with stratagems) invented a plan that was by all the rest approved. All the men there should dress themselves like the poorest sort of the people in Arcadia, having no banners but bloody shirts hanging upon long staves, with some bad bagpipes instead of drum and fife. They should cover their armor as well as possible, or at least make it look so rusty and ill-favored as might well become such wearers. Everyone should do this, except for two hundred of the best gentlemen, chosen for courage and strength. Palladius himself would be one of those, who should have their limbs chained and be put in carts like prisoners.
This plan was performed according to the agreement, and they marched towards the town of Cardamila, where Clitophon was captive, arriving within view of the walls two hours before sunset. The Helots had already descried their number and had begun to sound the alarm. There Musidorus and Kalander sent a cunning fellow (so much so that he could mask it under rudeness) who with such a kind of rhetoric weeded all the flowers out of rhetoric and delivered to the Helot assembly that they were country people of Arcadia, no less oppressed by their lords and no less desirous of liberty than the Helots, and therefore had put themselves in the field and had already (besides a great number slain) taken nine or ten score gentlemen prisoners whom they had there well and fast chained. Because they had no strong retiring place in Arcadia and were not yet of number enough to keep the field against their prince’s forces, they were bound to come to them for succor, knowing that every day more of their kind would flock to them. In the meantime, lest their prince should pursue them, or the Lacedemonian king and nobility fall upon them (for the likeness of the cause), they desired that if there were not room enough for them in the town, that yet they might encamp under the walls, and for the future have their prisoners (who were such men as were ever able to make their peace) kept within the town.
The Helots made but a short consultation, being glad that their contagion had spread itself into Arcadia, and making account that if the peace did not fall out between them and their king, that it was the best way to set fire in all the parts of Greece. They were also greedy to have so many gentlemen in their hands, in whose ransoms they already meant to have a share. Two things well helped them to a hasty conclusion. First, their captain was at that time absent with the wisest of them, confirming or breaking the peace with the state of Lacedemon. Second, their over-many good fortunes bred a proud recklessness in them. Finding by their speech that the men who had camped were Arcadians, with whom they had no war, they never suspected a private man’s credit could have gathered such a force. All tokens witnessed them to be of the lowest calling, including the chains upon the gentlemen. Therefore they granted not only leave for the prisoners but for some others of the company to harbor within the walls.
They had opened their gates and received in the carts when Palladius, seeing fit time, gave a sign, and shaking off their chains (which were made with such art, that though they seemed most strong and fast, he that wore them might easily loosen them), they drew their swords, hidden in the carts, and setting upon the ward, made the Helots fly either from the place or from their bodies, and so gave entry to the remaining force of the Arcadians before they could make any head to resist them.
But the Helots were hardened against dangers. They gathered (as well as they could) together in the market-place, and thence would have given a shrewd welcome to the Arcadians but that Palladius (blaming those Arcadians that were slow, heartening those that were forward, but especially with his own example leading them) made such an impression on the squadron of the Helots that at first the great body of them began to shake and stagger, and at length every particular body recommended the protection of his life to his feet.
Kalander urged them to go to the prison where he thought his son was, but Palladius wished him first to scour the streets, to house all the Helots, and to make themselves masters of the gates. Before that could be accomplished, the Helots had gotten new heart and, with diverse sorts of shot coming from corners of streets and house-windows, galled the Arcadians. The return of their captain gave them this courage, although he brought not many troops with him, having dispersed most of his companies to other strongholds.
When he encountered a great number of his Helots running out of a gate not yet possessed by the Arcadians, he made them turn face, and with banners displayed, his trumpet gave the loudest testimony he could of his return. The rest of the Helots, who had otherwise scattered, bent thitherward with a new life of resolution as if their captain had been a root out of which (as into branches) their courage had sprung.
Then the fight began to grow most sharp, and the encounters of more cruel obstinacy. The Arcadians fought to keep what they had won; the Helots to recover what they had lost. The Arcadians, in an unknown place, had no succor but in their hands; the Helots, in their own place, fought for their lives, wives, and children. It was victory and courage against revenge and despair: on both sides, safety could not be won except by destruction.
At length the left wing of the Arcadians began to lose ground. Seeing that, Palladius thrust himself with his chosen band against the oppressing throng with such an over-flowing of valor that the captain of the Helots (whose eyes quickly judged) saw that he alone was worth all the rest of the Arcadians. He wondered so at Palladius that it was hard to say whether he liked his doing more than he misliked the effects of his doing, and he determined that upon that cast the game lay. Disdaining to fight with any other, he sought to