XXV. The Syracusan soothsayers promised them the victory if they awaited attack and did not begin the attack: for Herakles himself never struck the first blow, but always waited for his enemies to attack him. The sea-fight which now took place was the fiercest and most obstinately contested of all those which took place throughout the war, and its varying fortunes were shared with agonizing interest by the Athenian army and the citizens on the walls of Syracuse, who were able from their respective positions to overlook the whole battle and watch the manœuvres of each ship. The Athenians were placed at a great disadvantage by having all their ships collected into one mass, where they were attacked from all sides by the lighter and more manageable vessels of the enemy. The Syracusans also used stones as missiles, which strike with equal effect, however they are thrown, while the Athenians replied with volleys of arrows and javelins, whose aim was often spoiled by the motion of the vessels, and which are useless unless they fly with the point foremost. All these details had been foreseen and taught to the Syracusans by Aristion the Corinthian steersman, who fell in the moment of victory. The Athenians were finally routed and driven ashore with great slaughter, and their retreat by sea completely cut off. Knowing how difficult it would be to make their way to any place of safety by land, they allowed themselves to be so paralyzed by despair, that they let the Syracusans tow away their ships as prizes, without making an effort to save them, and actually neglected to ask for a truce for the burial of their dead. They seemed to think that the case of the sick and wounded whom they saw amongst them, and whom they must perforce abandon when they left their camp, was even more pitiable than that of the floating corpses, and they actually envied the lot of the slain, knowing well that after a few more days of suffering they themselves were all destined to share their fate.

XXVI. They were all eager to depart during the night which followed this disastrous day; but Gylippus, perceiving that the people of Syracuse were so given up to feasting and merry-making, celebrating both their victory and the festival of their national hero Herakles, to whom the day was sacred, that they could not be either forced or persuaded into attempting to harass the enemy's retreat, sent some of those men who had formerly been in correspondence with Nikias to tell him not to attempt to retreat that night, as all the roads were occupied by Syracusans lying in wait to attack him. Deceived by this intelligence, Nikias waited to find what he feared in the night turned into a reality on the following day. At daybreak the passes were occupied by the Syracusans, who also threw up entrenchments at all the places where rivers had to be forded, and broke all the bridges, stationing their cavalry upon the level ground, so that the Athenians could not advance a step without fighting. The Athenians remained for all that day and the following night in their camp, and then set out, with such weeping and lamentation that it seemed rather as if they were leaving their native country than a hostile one, so distressed were they to see the miseries of their friends and relatives, and of the sick and wounded who were unable to accompany their march and had to be left to their fate, while they themselves had a presentiment that their present sufferings were nothing in comparison with those which awaited them. Among all these piteous sights, Nikias himself offered a glorious example. Worn out by disease, compelled by the exigencies of the retreat to forego the medicines and treatment which his condition required, he nevertheless, weak as he was, did more than many strong men could do, while all his men knew well that he made those efforts, not from any wish or hope to save his own life, but that it was solely on their behalf that he did not give way to despair. The tears and lamentations of the rest were prompted by their own private sorrows and fears, but the only grief shown by Nikias was that so splendid an expedition should have ended in such miserable failure. Those who watched his noble bearing and remembered how earnestly he had opposed the whole scheme, were filled with compassion for his undeserved sufferings. They began to despair of the favour of Heaven being shown to themselves, when they reflected that this man, careful as he had always been to perform every religious duty, was now no better off than the humblest or the most wicked soldier in his army.

Plutarch's Lives Volume III — Part 21