Nikias spoke again, and demanded exorbitant preparations of men, ships, and commissariat, hoping by this means to damp the ardour of those who would have to provide these things. It had the contrary effect. Demokrates exposed the artifice, and called on the strategos to declare in precise terms what and how much he wanted. The people ratified their vote, gave Nikias all he asked for—more than was necessary—and left it to the generals to judge what force they thought would be sufficient. Through this underhand and unsuccessful scheme Nikias struck the first blow against the fortune of the Sicilian expedition. In attempting to stop it he made it assume a greater size than was originally intended. As in the case of the invading force of Xerxes against Greece, its unwieldy proportions became an element of weakness. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XI ‘Each by each was thought The man who did the deed, but no man’s guilt Was proved, for each denied it.’ ANTIGONE. THE fleet was to have been ready to sail by the beginning of the following June. In the meantime each Athenian tried to outdo his neighbour in his eagerness to make the undertaking glorious. The citizens, whether bound to serve or not, pressed in to be enrolled as soldiers. The rich men emulated one another in the strength and size of the great ships they offered. Ambassadors were sent to all allies demanding aid for the important conquest—aid in men, in money, and provisions. The generals were allowed a free hand in their expenditure. By the time appointed everything was ready, but by an unfortunate coincidence the date fixed for the departure of the fleet fell on the Adônia, the days when the Athenian women kept their yearly mourning for the lamentable death of the beautiful youth, beloved of Aphrodite, and then celebrated their rejoicing at the glad festival of his happy resurrection. Clearly the fleet must not put to sea at such a time. Other unforeseen delays postponed the sailing till the first of August. Before that day arrived a horrid and unspeakable event occurred at Athens. The religious custom of the time had placed in every street a stone image of the divine champion Hermes, and a rough statue of this god, so dearly loved and reverently worshipped, stood at all the cross-roads, before every temple, and many of the private houses. These images were more than sacred: they were objects of peculiar devotion, for Hermes was not only messenger of Zeus, he was protector of the state and Constitution. To do offence to him was to offend the state, and tempt the potent deity to desert the city.