heed their general’s entreaties, keep their ranks, and wheeling around come charging down on the rear of the enemy’s center.  If one right wing does this, while the hostile right wing has rushed off in heedless pursuit, the battle is infallibly won by the men who have kept their heads; but if both right wings turn back, then the real death grapple comes when these two sets of victors in the first phase of the contest clash together in a decisive grapple.

By this time the original phalanx formations, so orderly, and beautiful, have become utterly shattered.  The field is covered by little squares or knots of striking, cursing, raging men—­clashing furiously together.  If there are any effective reserves, now is the time to fling them into the scale.  The hitherto timorous light troops and armor bearers rush up to do what they can.  Individual bravery and valor count now to the uttermost.  Little by little the contest turns against one side or the other.  The crucial moment comes.  The losing party begins to fear itself about to be surrounded.  Vain are the last exhortations of the officers to rally them.  “Every man for himself!” rings the cry; and with one mad impulse the defeated hoplites rush off the field in a rout.  Since they have been at close grip with their enemies, and now must turn their ill-protected backs to the pursuing spears, the massacre of the defeated side is sometimes great.  Yet not so great as might be imagined.  Once fairly beaten, you must strip off helmet and cuirass, cast away shield and spear, and run like a hare.  You have lightened yourself now decidedly.  But your foe must keep his ponderous arms, otherwise he cannot master you, if he overtakes you.  Therefore the vanquished can soon distance the victors unless the latter have an unusually efficient cavalry and javelin force.  However, the victors are likely to enter the camp of the vanquished, and to celebrate duly that night dividing the plunder.

95.  The Burial Truce and the Trophy after the Battle.—­A few hours after the battle, while the victors are getting breath and refreshing themselves, a shamefaced herald, bearing his sacred wand of office, presents himself.  He is from the defeated army, and comes to ask a burial truce.  This is the formal confession of defeat for which the victors have been waiting.  It would be gross impiety to refuse the request; and perhaps the first watch of the nigh is spent by detachments of both sides in burying or burning the dead.

The fates of prisoners may be various.  They may be sold as slaves.  If the captors are pitiless and vindictive, it is not contrary to the laws of war to put the prisoners to death in cold blood; but by the fourth century B.C.  Greeks are becoming relatively humane.  Most prisoners will presently be released against a reasonable ransom paid by their relatives.