Herodotus must have guessed there was something wrong with his calculations. He wonders: “What body of water did the forces of Xerxes not drink dry except for the greatest rivers?” The logic of logistics, especially regarding the supply of water, argues powerfully against such a multitude. Eating was less of a problem than drinking, for, during the long preparation, large food dumps were placed at suitable intervals along the route from Asia Minor to Greece.
One theory is that Herodotus confused the Persian terms for chiliarch, commander of one thousand, and myriarch, commander of ten thousand men. Remove a zero from the totals given above and the numbers become much more reasonable.
170,000 infantrymen
8,000 cavalry
2,000 camels and chariots
30,000 Thracians and Greeks
210,000
For different reasons modern scholars have come up with similar estimates. If these are more or less correct, Herodotus’s claim would be justified that the army suffered seriously from thirst only three times during the long march to Greece.
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So far as the fleet was concerned, Herodotus provides figures that, on the one hand, look as if they are authentic and, on the other, are far too high for the warships that reached the narrow waters of Hellas. As noted, he reports a grand total (excluding commissariat boats and transports) of 1,207 warships plus an additional 120 contributed by collaborationist Hellenes from colonies in Thrace and the islands lying off its coast. But we are told that only 600 or so triremes made it to their destination.
The discrepancy is easily explained. About half the fleet was committed to a truly astonishing feat of engineering, which removed them definitively from the battle line. Somehow the Great King and his army had to cross the Hellespont, a stretch of water that separates Asia from Europe. Two pontoon bridges were installed, one some 4,200 yards in length and the other measuring 3,500 yards. Two lines of 360 and 314 triremes and fifty-oared galleys, respectively, were anchored from shore to shore and lashed together.
Gaps allowed merchant ships to sail to and from the Black Sea. Tough but flexible suspension cables, six for each bridge, made from papyrus and esparto grass, were laid on each row of boats and tightened by capstans. Wooden planking, brushwood, and earth with wooden side screens were placed on the cables to create roadways. The cables were pressed down onto the boats, but took some of the weight as well as sharing the strain on the anchors.
The first attempt at a bridge ended badly. It blew away in a storm, provoking Xerxes into an unhinged rage. If we are to believe Herodotus, he had the clerks of the works beheaded. He also ordered that the Hellespont itself should be punished with three hundred lashes and that a pair of shackles be dropped into the sea. The engineers tried again, hoping to keep their heads on their shoulders, and this time they succeeded. It was an absurd case of paranoid majesty.
By June 480 the Great King and his army had arrived at Abydus, a town on the Hellespont near the two bridges. It was from here that legendary young Leander, who had no need for military engineers, used to swim nightly across the channel to spend time with his girlfriend, Hero, until one time he lost his way and drowned.
The Great King held a review of his land and sea forces—or at least a representative fraction, if we bear in mind that fresh water was limited. He had the people of Abydus make him a throne of white marble and place it on a rise of land. As he looked down, the sea was almost invisible for ships. A race was organized, which Phoenicians from the powerful city-state of Sidon won. The coastline and plain were packed with men.
Xerxes congratulated himself for being such a lucky man. But he was under severe strain and a moment later burst into tears.
The Great King’s uncle, Artabanus, asked him what the matter was. Xerxes replied: “I was thinking, and it struck me how pitifully short human life is. Not one of all these people here will be alive in one hundred years from now.”
The king changed the subject and asked his uncle, who had advised against the war, what his opinion was today. His reply was well reasoned, even if the conversation is an invention of Herodotus. Artabanus said: “I am frightened of two enemies.”
“Who do you mean? Is there something wrong with my army? Isn’t it big enough?”
Artabanus explained that the enemies he was thinking of were the land and the sea. Where they were going there were no harbors with the capacity to receive the fleet, and the land would become more and more hostile the further the Persians advanced. If the Greeks failed to give battle, after a short time rocky Hellas would not be able to feed the army, which would starve.
The Great King was much put out and sent his uncle back to the imperial capital, Susa, in disgrace. The order was given to march into Europe. The first to test the bridges were the Immortals, wearing garlands. It took seven days and seven nights for everyone to pass over to the other side.
The army, always shadowed by the fleet, set off on its long westward trek.
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The Greeks were well aware of black clouds gathering in the east, but (like free states throughout history) dillied and dallied. There was a single exception; thanks to the foresighted Themistocles, by 481 Athens had completed its planned shipbuilding program, intended in the first instance for the war against Aegina, and continued to lay down new triremes.
In August of the same year the polis consulted the oracle at Delphi about the impending crisis. After its delegates had entered the inner shrine and taken their seats, the Pythia, a woman called Aristonice, delivered a terrifying message from the god, according to Herodotus:
You are doomed. Why sit around? Escape to the ends of creation.
Leave your homes and the citadel your city circles like a wheel.
The oracle was on good terms with Persia and it seems that it took the view that resistance to a major invasion by the Great King was futile. It was not alone. The god took care to be well informed and many Greeks were of the same opinion.
The Athenians were devastated by what they had been told, but kept their presence of mind. They took olive branches and went back for a second consultation. “Lord, give us a better oracle,” they asked.
The Pythia tried again. This time, she said, her words would be serious (“adamantine”). She offered a ray of hope, although it was hard to interpret what she meant.
Zeus the all-seeing grants to Athena a wall of wood.
It alone will not fall, but help you and your children.
She added a parting shot.
O divine Salamis, you will destroy women’s sons
When Demeter’s grain is sown or gathered in at harvest.
Although less negative than the first oracular statement, it was also less comprehensible. What was the wooden wall and whose women’s sons were to die at Salamis? When the envoys returned to Athens and reported to the ecclesia, those were the questions that had to be answered.
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The strategic position facing the Greeks was challenging. There were three places where they might be able to hold up the invader as he marched down from Thrace.