On the False Embassy

You see that, before he got his peace, he covenanted that, if you should make alliance with him as well, he would specify in writing the great benefits that he would confer on Athens. But now that both peace and alliance are concluded, he says that he does not know what he can do to oblige you, but that, if you will tell him, he will do anything that is consistent with his own honor and reputation—taking refuge in this saving clause, and leaving himself a loophole in case you make any proposal or are induced to ask any favor.

All this chicanery, and much besides, might have been instantly detected, and you might have been informed and spared the sacrifice of your interests, if you had not been cheated out of the truth by that story of Thespiae and Plataea and the imminent punishment of the Thebans. Yet if Philip’s promises were merely for show, and if the city was to be deluded, it was right to mention them; if, on the other hand, they were really to be fulfilled, it was best to say nothing about them. For if the project was so far matured that the Thebans could gain nothing by hearing of it, why has it not been executed? But if it has been thwarted because they had news of it in time, who let the secret out?

Aeschines? Oh no; it was never meant to come off, and he neither wanted it nor expected it; let him be quit of the imputation of blabbing! The truth is that his purpose required that you should be hoodwinked by that talk; that you should refuse to hear the truth from me and should stay at home; and that they should triumphantly carry a decree ensuring the destruction of the Phocians. That is why this tissue of lies was woven; that is why it was made the theme of a popular harangue.

Now when I heard him making all these fine promises, and knew to a certainty that he was lying,—but let me tell you why I knew. First, because, when Philip was on the point of swearing the oath of ratification, the Phocians were expressly excluded from the treaty by these men and that exclusion should have been passed over in silence, if the Phocians were to be delivered;[*](The clause excluding the Phocians from the benefit of the peace had been rescinded by the Assembly (See Dem. 19.159). Aeschines and his friends were therefore acting ultra vires in restoring the clause, when they administered the oath. Had they been really convinced that Philip intended to spare the Phocians, they would have retained the more general phrase,the Athenians and their allies. It is more probable that Philip himself insisted on excluding the Phocians, and the ambassadors were as powerless as the Roman senators before Alaric.) and secondly because none of the ambassadors from Philip, nor Philip’s own letter, but only Aeschines, mentioned the promises.

So drawing my conclusions, I rose and presented myself, and made an attempt to reply. When you refused me a hearing, I held my peace, except that I protested—and I entreat that you will recall this—that I had no knowledge of the promises, nothing to do with them, and, I added, no faith in them. At the words no faith in them, you became exasperated; and I proceeded: If any of these promises come true, men of Athens, be sure you give thanks and honors and decorations to these gentlemen; but not to me. If, however, things turn out otherwise, see that it is on them that you vent your wrath. I stand aside.

Not now, said Aeschines, interrupting me, do not stand aside now; only do not put in your claim then. Agreed; said I, if I do, I shall be in the wrong. Then Philocrates rose, and said, in a very supercilious manner: No wonder Demosthenes and I disagree, men of Athens. He drinks water; I drink wine. And then you all laughed.

Now look at the decree, which Philocrates afterwards drafted and handed to the clerk. It sounds well enough to the ear; but if you will take into account the occasion on which it was proposed, and the promises which Aeschines was making at the time, it will be clear that they were simply handing over the Phocians to Philip and the Thebans—I might almost say, with shackles on their wrists. Read the decree.

(The Decree is read)

You observe, men of Athens, how full the decree is of compliments and fine phrases; that it provides that the peace, and also the alliance, made with Philip shall be extended to his posterity; and that thanks are given to Philip for his promise of just dealings. But it was not Philip who had made any promises; so far from promising he says that he does not know what to do to oblige you.

It was Aeschines who was Philip’s spokesman and gave undertakings. Then Philocrates, taking advantage of your ready acceptance of Aeschines’ words, inserts in the decree a clause providing that, if the Phocians should not do what was right and give up the temple to the Amphictyonic Council, the Athenian people should send a force to coerce the recalcitrants.

And so, men of Athens, as you stayed at home instead of taking the field, as the Lacedaemonians had discerned Philip’s treachery and withdrawn, and as no members of the Council were on the spot except the Thessalians and the Thebans, he really has proposed, with the utmost civility, to hand the temple over to them. The wording is, to the Amphictyons; but what Amphictyons? There were none there except Thessalians and Thebans. He makes no such proposal as that the Amphictyonic Council should be convened, or that operations should be suspended until it meets, or that Proxenus should march against the Phocians, or that the Athenians should take the field.

Philip, however, did send you two letters of summons. Yes, but not with the intention that you should take the field. That is certain; otherwise he would not have destroyed your opportunity of going out before he summoned you, nor would he have detained me when I wanted to sail home, nor ordered Aeschines to make statements calculated to deter you from going out. No, his object was that you, in the belief that he would do all that you wanted, should make no decree prejudicial to him, and the Phocians might not stand their ground and hold out in reliance upon hopes afforded by you, but might make unconditional surrender to him in sheer desperation. Read Philip’s actual letters.

(The two Letters are read)

These letters, then, do summon you,—yes, indeed, at last But if there had been any honesty in the letters, it was clearly the duty of these men to exhort you to take the field, and to propose that Proxenus, whom they knew to be in those parts, should at once march to the aid of Philip. Their actual policy was very different. Naturally; for they did not apply their minds to the phrasing of the letter; they were in the secret of the intention with which it was written, and with that intention they concurred and cooperated.

When therefore the Phocians learned your policy from the proceedings of the Assembly, received the decree of Philocrates, and were informed of the report and promises of Aeschines, their ruin was complete. Just consider. There were some men in Phocis, sensible men, who had no confidence in Philip. They were induced to trust him. Why? Because they conceived that, though Philip had deceived them ten times over, he would never have dared to deceive Athenians and envoys of the Athenian people, that the report of Aeschines was true, and that destruction had overtaken not themselves but the Thebans.

There were others who were ready at all hazards to hold out to the end; but even they were mollified by the persuasion that Philip was their friend, and that, if they refused compliance, you, from whom they were expecting succor, would turn against them. A third party supposed that you regretted your treaty of peace with Philip; but they were now informed that you had actually decreed an extension of the treaty to Philip’s descendants, and so they abandoned all hope of your assistance. And that is why these men packed all those provisions into one decree.

In my judgement they could not have done you a more grievous injury. To turn their treaty of peace with a mortal man, a mere potentate of occasion, into a covenant of immortal ignominy for the commonwealth; to strip their city of all she had, even of the largess of her good fortune; in the veriest extravagance of malice to heap injuries not only on the Athenians of today but upon all who shall hereafter be Athenians,—is not that an appalling iniquity?

Never would you have consented to add to the treaty by afterthought the words and to his posterity, but for your confidence in the promises alleged by Aeschines. In those promises the Phocians confided,—and perished! They surrendered themselves to Philip; of their own accord they put their cities at his mercy; and their treatment has exactly contradicted all the assurances of Aeschines.

To give you the clearest proof that that destruction was effected in this way by the contrivance of these men, I will submit a reckoning of the dates of the several transactions. If any of the defendants challenges my calculation, let him stand up and speak in the time[*](in the time, etc.: see Dem. 18.139.) allotted to me. Now the treaty was made on the nineteenth of Elaphebolion, and we were abroad receiving the oaths for three entire months. During the whole of that time the Phocians were safe.

We returned from the oath-taking embassy on the thirteenth of Scirophorion, when Philip was already at Thermopylae and making promises to the Phocians which they were not disposed to believe. The proof of that is that otherwise they would not have resorted to you. Then the Assembly, at which these men brought the whole business to ruin with their lies and cajolery, was held on the sixteenth of Scirophorion.

Now I calculate that the news from Athens reached the Phocians on the fourth day after that date, for there were Phocian envoys in the city, and they were interested in knowing what report these men would submit and what decree you would adopt. Therefore the twentieth was the day on which we reckon that the Phocians received the news, that is, the fourth day after the sixteenth. Then followed the twenty-first, twenty-second, twenty-third; and on the twenty-third the convention was made, and the fortunes of Phocis perished and came to an end.

How, then, is this date proved? On the twenty-seventh, when you were holding an assembly at Peiraeus to discuss dockyard business, Dercylus arrived from Chalcis with the intelligence that Philip had put the whole affair into the hands of the Thebans, and he computed that it was then the fourth day after the convention. Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven: that makes it the fourth day. Therefore these dates, together with their own reports and decrees, all convict these men of having co-operated with Philip, and they share with him the guilt of the destruction of the Phocians.