On the False Embassy

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.

Again, the consideration that not a city of the Phocians was taken forcibly, whether by blockade or assault, and yet that they were all brought to utter ruin under the convention, is a convincing proof that they perished because they had been persuaded through these men that Philip would deliver them; for about his character they had no illusions. Now give me our treaty with the Phocians, and the Amphictyonic decrees, under which they dismantled their defences. These documents will show you on what footing you stood with them, and what treatment they have received by the fault of these wicked men. Read.

(The Treaty of Friendship between the Athenians and the Phocians is read)

These are the relations that subsisted between you and them—friendship, alliance, succor. Now hear what they have suffered through the man who thwarted the succor you owed them. Read.

(The Convention between Philip and the Phocians is read)

You hear it, men of Athens. A convention between Philip and the Phocians, it says, not between the Thebans and the Phocians, or the Thessalians and the Phocians, or the Locrians, or any other of the nationalities then present. Again, it says that the Phocians are to surrender their cities to Philip, not to the Thebans, or the Thessalians, or any other people.

Why? Because you had been assured by Aeschines that Philip had come to deliver the Phocians. In Aeschines they had confidence; to Aeschines they looked for aid; with Aeschines they were making their peace. Read the other documents. Now you shall see to what sufferings they were brought by that confidence. Does the story agree with, does it in any way resemble, those reports of Aeschines? Read.

(The Decrees of the Amphictyonic Council are read)

Men of Athens, nothing more awful or more momentous has befallen in Greece within living memory, nor, as I believe, in all the history of the past. Yet through the agency of these men all these great and terrible transactions have been dominated by a single individual, though the city of Athens is still in being, the city whose ancestral prerogative it was to stand forth as the champion of the Hellenic race, and declare that such things shall not be. In what fashion these unhappy Phocians have perished you may learn, not from the decrees alone,

but from the deeds that have been wrought—a spectacle, men of Athens, to move us to terror and pity indeed! Not long ago, when we were travelling to Delphi, necessity compelled us to look upon that scene—homesteads levelled with the ground, cities stripped of their defensive walls, a countryside all emptied of its young men; only women, a few little children, and old men stricken with misery. No man could find words adequate to the woes that exist in that country today. And yet these are the people—you take the words out of my mouth—these are the people who in the day of our trial[*](in the day of our trial: 404 B.C. when, after the naval defeat at Aegispotami, and the surrender of the city to Lysander, Athens lay at the mercy of Thebes, Sparta, and Corinth. Grote, ch. 65.) openly cast their vote against the Thebans, when the question was the enslavement of us all!

Then what vote, what judgement, men of Athens, do you think that our forefathers would give, if they could recover consciousness, at the trial of the men who devised the destruction of the Phocians? I conceive that they would account even those who should stone them to death with their own hands to be free of all bloodguiltiness. For is it not an ignominy—or use a stronger word if such there be—that, by the fault of these men, the people who saved us at that crisis, and gave for us the verdict of deliverance, have received evil in requital of good, and have been abandoned to the endurance of afflictions such as no people of the Greeks has ever known? And who is the author of those wrongs? Who is the contriver of that deception? Who but Aeschines?

Men of Athens, Philip has many claims to congratulation on his good fortune, but beyond them all he might well be especially congratulated for one thing, in which I solemnly declare that I can name no man of our time who has been equally fortunate. Such achievements as the capture of great cities and the subjugation of a vast territory are, I suppose, enviable, as they are undoubtedly imposing; yet we could mention many other men who have done the like.

But the stroke of good fortune I have in mind is peculiar to him and has befallen no other man. What is it? It is that, when he needed scoundrels for his purposes, he found bigger scoundrels than he wanted. For surely that is a fair description of the men who deceived you, hiring themselves out for lies which Philip, in spite of the great interests at issue, did not dare to tell on his own account, which he never wrote in any letter or put into the mouth of ambassadors of his own.