The world has seen many great conquerors, but certainly not more than
two or three who have stamped their names so indelibly upon the pages of
history and appealed to the imagination of so wide an audience as the
hero of Macedonia. The young soldier’s meteoric career, which Appian,
the great Roman historian, justly likened to a flash of lightning, had
all the elements of dramatic picturesqueness. Alexander was the wonder
of the age in which he lived, and no less a wonder to each succeeding
generation. A myth soon grew up about his name, but the myth was scarcely
more wonderful than the bald facts of his history. The main outlines of
that history are familiar to every school-boy, yet it is a curious fact
that no contemporary record of the achievements of Alexander has come
down to us. We have the account of the Persian Wars written by Herodotus
who was born before their close. We have the record of the Peloponnesian
War written by Thucydides who participated in it, and by Xenophon who
must have known personally many of its greatest actors. Xenophon has also
left us a biography of Agesilaus, who so nearly anticipated Alexander
in an Asiatic conquest, and, in so doing, he writes not merely as a
contemporary but as a personal friend. But the oldest extant writings
that give us an account of the deeds of Alexander were not penned until
some three centuries after that hero lived and died. It is true that
contemporary records of the history of Alexander were written in numbers,
but by some curious chance no copy of any one of these records has been
preserved.
Fortunately, however, the histories of Alexander that have come down to
us are all based more or less on the contemporary records that are lost.
There are five of these important histories, all written, perhaps, almost
in the same century--the works namely of Diodorus, Justin, Plutarch,
Curtius, and Arrian. The most ancient of these is the history of
Diodorus, which dates from somewhere about the age of Julius Cæsar; the
latest, that of Arrian, was written probably about the time of the reign
of Adrian. There are, of course, numerous other classical authors who
make reference to Alexander, but these five are the only ones who have
given us anything like a complete history of his doings.
Of these histories, by common consent, the most authoritative is that of
Arrian.[i] This work is based upon the writings of two of Alexander’s
generals, Ptolemy and Aristobulus. The point of view from which the work
is written cannot be better described than in the author’s own words:
“I have admitted into my narrative as strictly authentic all the
statements relating to Alexander and Philip which Ptolemy, son of Lagus,
and Aristobulus, son of Aristobulus, agree in making; and from those
statements which differ I have selected that which appears to me the more
credible, and at the same time the more deserving of record. Different
authors have given different accounts of Alexander’s actions; and there
is no one about whom more have written, or more at variance with each
other; but in my opinion the narratives of Ptolemy and Aristobulus are
more worthy of credit than the rest--Aristobulus, because he served under
King Alexander in his expedition, and Ptolemy’s, not only because he
accompanied Alexander in his expedition, but also because, being a king
himself, the falsification of the facts would have been more disgraceful
to him than to any other man. Moreover they are both more worthy of
credit, because they compiled their histories after Alexander’s death,
when neither compulsion was used nor reward offered to them to write
anything different from what really occurred. Some statements also made
by other writers I have incorporated in my narrative, because they seemed
to me worthy of mention and not altogether improbable; but I have given
them merely as reports of Alexander’s proceedings. And if any man wonders
why, after so many other men have written of Alexander, the compilation
of this history came into my mind, after perusing the narratives of all
the rest, let him read this of mine, and then wonder--if he can.”
When one reflects on the library of volumes that have been written in
recent times on Alexander and his doings, it is curious to consider how
meagre are the original materials on which all this elaboration is based.
The entire accounts of Diodorus, Justin, Plutarch, Curtius, and Arrian if
printed together in full would make but a comparatively small volume. Nor
can it be said that any recent discoveries have greatly altered the point
of view from which the history of Alexander is to be regarded, or largely
added to our knowledge of the subject. The reader who has mastered
these five classical authorities has learned practically all that is
specifically known regarding the deeds of Alexander, and every modern
historian who treats of the subject must bear these original authorities
constantly in mind.[a]
Before taking up Alexander’s deeds in detail, it may be well to quote, by
way of transition from father to son, the epigrammatic comparison made by
Justin, between Philip and Alexander, using Brown’s translation of 1712:
PHILIP AND ALEXANDER COMPARED BY JUSTIN
[Sidenote: [356-336 B.C.]]
“Philip was killed in the Forty-Seventh Year of his Age, after he had
Reigned Twenty-Five Years. He had a Son by an Actress of Larissa, whose
Name was Aridæus, who reign’d after Alexander. He had, as ’tis usual
with Princes, several other Sons by several Wives, some of whom died a
Natural, and others fell by a violent Death. He was a Prince that took
more Delight in Arms than in Feasting. His greatest Riches consisted
in his Military Stores. He was more dexterous at getting Money than
at keeping of it, which was the Reason that he was everlastingly Poor
and Necessitous, amidst all his Rapines and Plunders. He was naturally
inclined neither to Mercy nor Pity, but used both indifferently, as his
Affairs required.
“He thought no Way dishonourable to overcome an Enemy. In his Discourse
he was Free and Courteous, but always designing. He would promise
infinitely more than he intended to perform. He was equally excellent at
Railery and serious Discourse. He measured Friendship not by Fidelity,
but the Advantages it brought. His principal Talents were to pretend
Love where he hated most, to excite Animosities and Distrusts between
Friends, and at the same time to curry Favour with both. Among his
other Qualities, Eloquence was none of the least, his Conversation was
sprightly and subtle and neither did the Easiness of it exclude its
Elegance, nor its Elegance Adulterate the Beauty of its Easiness.
“He was succeeded by his Son Alexander, who surpassed his Father both in
his Virtues and his Vices. Their Methods of Conquering were extremely
different. The Son carried on his Wars by open Force, the Father by
Artifice and Stratagem. One loved to trick an Enemy underhand, the Other
to defeat them gallantly in the Field by Bravery. One was more subtle in
Council, the Other more Magnificent in his Temper.
“The Father could dissemble, and for the most part overcome his Anger.
The Son, when he was thoroughly inflamed, neither knew how to allay, nor
Moderate his Revenge. Both of them were over-greedy of Wine, but the
Vices of their Drunkenness were different. The Father would run from an
Entertainment to go and engage with an Enemy and rashly expose himself
to Danger. The Son quarrelled with his friends in his Wine, and treated
them like Enemies. Thus we find that Philip has frequently returned from
Battels Wounded, and Alexander came from a Banquet stained with the
Blood of his Friends. One would rule in Conjunction with his Friends,
the Other would reign over them. The Father rather chose to make himself
beloved, the Son to be fear’d. Both of ’em were equal Encouragers and
Lovers of Learning. The Father had more Cunning, the Son more Honour.
Philip was more moderate in his Conversation, Alexander in his Actions,
which he show’d by being more Merciful and Generous to the Conquer’d.
The Father loved Frugality, the Son was more inclined to Luxury. With
these Qualifications the Father laid a Foundation for the Conquest of the
World, which the Son most Gloriously accomplished.”[d]
ALEXANDER’S YOUTH ACCORDING TO QUINTUS CURTIUS
The kings of Macedon derived their pedigree from Hercules; and Olympias,
Alexander’s mother, reckoned the origin of her family from Achilles. From
his very infancy he wanted neither allurements or examples to excite him
in the pursuit of glory, nor masters to teach him virtue, nor exercise
to accustom him to it. For his father, Philip, did by his continual
wars raise the reputation of the Macedonians, who, till then were
accounted despicable, and by his conquest of Greece, made them formidable
everywhere. In fine, he not only laid the foundations of the great things
which were done after his death, but even a little before his decease,
having resolved to carry the war into Persia, he had levied men, gathered
provisions, raised money, and, in short, had an army ready for that
expedition; and had actually opened a passage into Asia, by the means of
Parmenion.
But in this very juncture he was taken away, as if to leave to his son so
great forces to carry on the war, and reap the full glory of it, when it
was finished; which seems to have been the contrivance of fortune, who
always yielded entire obedience to Alexander alone. This prince was so
much in the admiration of all men, not only after he had done so great
things, but even at his first setting out, that it was a question whether
it were not more reasonable to ascribe the divine original of so great a
man immediately to Jupiter himself, rather than mediately to the same god
by the Æacidæ and Hercules.
When he went himself to visit the temple of Ammon in Libya, nothing
less would content him than to be called his son, as we shall shew in
the sequel. Moreover, it was the opinion of many that Alexander was the
offspring of a serpent which had been seen in his mother’s bed-chamber,
and into which Jupiter had transformed himself; that the credit of his
divine pedigree was advanced by dreams and prophesies; and that when
Philip sent to Delphi to consult about it, he was admonished by the
oracle, to pay the greatest reverence to Ammon. On the other hand, there
are those who affirm, “That all this is mere fiction; and that there was
reason to suspect Alexander’s mother was guilty of adultery: for that
Nectanebus, king of Egypt, who was driven from his kingdom, did not go to
Ethiopia, as was commonly believed, but went to Macedonia, in hopes of
receiving succours from Philip against the power of the Persians. That
he deceived Olympias by the force of magical enchantments, and defiled
his landlord’s bed. That from that time Philip had a jealousy of her, and
that it afterwards appeared this was the chief cause of their divorce.
That the very day that Philip brought Cleopatra into his house, Attalus,
his wife’s uncle, took the liberty to reproach Alexander with the
baseness of his birth, while the king himself disowned him for his son.
In fine, that the constant rumour of Olympias’ adultery was entertained
not only in that part of the world, but even among the nations which
he conquered. That the fiction of the serpent was derived from ancient
fables, on purpose to conceal the ignominy of that princess. That the
Messenians had formerly given out the same story concerning Aristomenes,
and the Sicyonians concerning Aristodemus.”
In reality the same report was spread abroad concerning Scipio, who was
the first that ruined Carthage; and the birth of Augustus was in like
manner thought to have had something divine in it. For as to Romulus, the
founder of Rome, there is no occasion to say anything of him; since there
is no nation so contemptible, but derives its origin either from some
god, or the offspring of a god. After all, the flight of Nectanebus does
not agree with those times; for Alexander was six years of age, when that
prince was vanquished by Ochus, and lost his kingdom and inheritance;
but for all this, the tale which is reported of Jupiter, is not the less
likely to be false. It is affirmed, that Olympias herself, having nothing
to fear after her husband’s death, laughed at the vanity of her son, who
would needs have it believed that he was sprung from Jupiter; and begged
him in a letter, “not to expose her to Juno’s indignation, seeing that
she had been guilty of nothing that deserved that punishment.” However,
before that time, she is thought to have been the person that took the
most pains to gain credit to this fable, and is said to have admonished
Alexander upon his expedition into Asia, “To be mindful of his origin,
and do nothing that was unworthy of so great a father.”
But it is generally agreed, that between the conception and birth of
that prince, it was signified both by prodigies and divers presages, how
considerable a person should be born. Philip saw in his sleep the womb
of Olympias sealed up with a ring, on which the picture of a lion was
engraved; the memory whereof was preserved by the city of Alexandria in
Egypt, which was for a long time called Leontopolis. Aristander, the
ablest diviner of that time, who afterwards accompanied Alexander, and
was his chief priest, interpreted the dream, and said it signified the
magnanimity and courage of the infant. The same night that Olympias was
brought to bed, the temple of Diana in Ephesus, the most famous of all
Asia, was burnt to ashes. This was done by a profligate villain, who
being apprehended and put to the torture, confessed he had no other view
in doing it, but to preserve his memory by some great and memorable act
of impiety. Wherefore the Magi, who were then at Ephesus, not reckoning
so great a misfortune from the loss of the temple alone, but looking
upon it as a presage of greater destruction, filled the whole city with
mournful exclamations; “That there was a torch kindled somewhere, which,
on the like account, and from the same motive, should one day consume all
the East.”
Philip being blessed with a son, of whom so many happy omens made
him conceive the highest hopes, turned all his thoughts towards his
education. For being a wise man, and a lover of his country, he easily
perceived that all his endeavours would be to no purpose, if he should
leave an ignorant and slothful prince behind him, to govern Macedonia,
while things were in an unsettled state everywhere: and that his glory
could not be long-lived, if the great things he had begun should be
lost and ruined by the weakness or negligence of a successor. Among his
letters, that discreet and elegant one which he wrote to Aristotle, who
was then at Athens with Plato, is yet extant, and is conceived in words
much to this purpose:
“Philip to Aristotle wisheth Health.
“I am to acquaint you, that a son is born to me; nor do I thank the gods
so much for his birth, as for his being born in your time. I hope that
when he shall have been educated and instructed by you, he shall be
worthy of us, and fit to succeed to so great a kingdom. For I think it
much better to be without children, than to beget them for a punishment,
and educate them to the shame and dishonour of their ancestors.”
Nor was Philip mistaken; for having been long under the direction of
Aristotle, the effect was, that the instructions he received from that
great master, laid a foundation for, and enabled him to perform all the
great exploits which he executed from that time.
When he grew up, there appeared a perfect symmetry in his members, his
joints were strong and firm; and being but of a middle stature, he was
really stronger than he appeared to be. His skin was white, only his
cheeks and his breast were dyed with an agreeable red; his hair was
yellow, and went into a gentle curl; his nose was aquiline, and his eyes
of different colours: for his left eye is said to have been blue, and his
right very black. There was a certain secret virtue in them; insomuch
that nobody could look on his countenance without veneration and fear.
He could run with wonderful swiftness, which he often practised, even
when he was king, as esteeming it of great use in expeditions; and he
was often seen to run for a prize with the swiftest persons about him.
He bore fatigue with a patience and firmness that even passes belief;
and by this one virtue he oftentimes saved both himself and his armies
in the greatest extremities. By frequent exercises, and a very warm
constitution, he did so purge off any bad humours which commonly lodge
under the skin, that not only his breath, but also what he perspired
through the pores of his body were sweet, and his very clothes had a
fragrant smell; and this was the cause, as some think, why he was so much
inclined to wine and passion. Pictures and statues of him are yet to
be seen, which were the performances of the best artists. For lest the
comeliness of his face should suffer any thing from the unskilfulness of
vulgar sculptors or painters, he strictly forbade any to draw his picture
without his order, and threatened to punish any one that should disobey
it. In consequence whereof, though there was abundance of good workmen,
yet Apelles was the only person who had his consent to draw his picture;
Pyrgoteles to grave him on precious stones, and Lysippus and Polyclitus
to represent him in medals.
His governor Leonidas is said to have walked too fast, which Alexander
learnt of him; and never was able to help it afterwards by all his
endeavours. I am not ignorant that very much is owing to education, but
I am inclined to impute this rather to the temper of that young prince,
than to his accustoming himself to it; for it was impossible for one
of his ardour and impetuosity of spirit, not to have the motions of
his body answerable to it. And this hastiness of his was so far from
being accounted an imperfection by his successors, that they studiously
affected it, and imitated him therein; as they did in his wry neck,
which leaned to his left shoulder, in his piercing look and high voice,
being incapable to copy the virtues of his mind. In reality, there were
many of them whose long lives had scarce anything in them that deserved
to be compared to his childhood. Nor did he ever say or act anything
that was mean or base, but all his words and actions were equal to,
or even surpassed, his fortune. For though he was most ambitious of
praise, yet he did not affect to draw it indifferently from every thing,
but would have it arise from things that were most praiseworthy; being
sensible that the praise which arises from mean actions is inglorious and
dishonourable, and that that victory which is gained over the meanest
enemy, is so much the more noble and illustrious. Therefore when some
persons told him, “that seeing he was an excellent runner, he ought
to list himself among those who were to contend for the prize at the
Olympic games, after the example of a king of his name; and that thereby
he should acquire a great fame all over Greece”: he answered, “I would
certainly do so, if I were to run against kings.”
As often as Philip obtained any signal victory, or reduced any rich and
strong place, he could not conceal his grief, amidst the rejoicing of
others; and he was heard to complain amongst boys of his own age, “that
his father would leave nothing for him and them to do when they came to
be men.” For he looked upon every accession of power and riches to be a
diminution to his glory, and had a stronger passion for honour than for
wealth. He was naturally disposed to sleep but little, and increased
his watchfulness by art. If anything happened to him that required
serious thought, he put his arm out of the bed, holding a silver ball
in his hand, which by its fall into a basin might make a noise, and so
disperse that heaviness which was inclining him to slumber. From his very
infancy he loved to worship the gods splendidly; and one day as they were
sacrificing, he flung so much incense into the fire, that Leonidas, who
was a severe and parsimonious man, not being able to bear that profusion,
cried out, “You may burn incense in this manner when you conquer the
countries where it grows.” Remembering this saying afterwards, when he
settled the affairs of Arabia, which produces incense, he sent Leonidas a
vast quantity of this perfume, ordering him withal, “to be more liberal
for the future, in paying honour to the gods, since he was now convinced
that they did plentifully repay the gifts that had been cheerfully made
them.”
_Aristotle as His Teacher_
[Illustration: ARISTOTLE]
That he understood the more sublime sciences, is evident from his letter
to Aristotle, wherein he complains, “That he had profaned their dignity
by divulging their principles.” Upon which, Aristotle excused himself by
answering, “That those books were published in such a manner, as that
they might be reckoned not published; for that no body would be able to
understand the meaning of them, but such as had already been instructed
in the principles which they contained.” When Alexander demanded his
books of rhetoric, he strictly forbade him to let them come to the hands
of any other; for he was no less desirous to excel others in arts and
sciences, than in power and greatness; nor could he endure that men of
the lowest rank should share that glory with him. Besides, it appears
from his letters that he studied physic under one Aristotle, who was the
son of a physician, of the race of Æsculapius. But he studied that part
of philosophy so well, which teaches a man to command both himself and
others, that he is thought to have undertaken the supervision of that
vast weight and power of the Persian empire, rather by his magnanimity,
prudence, temperance, and fortitude, than by his arms and riches. He
frankly owned, “That he owed more to Aristotle than to Philip; for that
he was indebted to the one for his life; to the other for that life’s
being formed upon the principles of honour and virtue.” Nevertheless,
it has been believed by some, not without ground, that his mind, which
was so fired with ambition, was yet more inflamed by the too great value
which Aristotle set upon honour and glory, which he placed in the rank of
things that may be called goods; so that he not only multiplied wars upon
wars, in order to extend his dominions, but would needs be looked upon as
a god.
Of all the monuments of antiquity, he had the greatest esteem for Homer,
who, he thought, was the only person that had perfectly described that
wisdom by which empires subsist; and such a passion for him, that he was
called Homer’s Lover. He was wont to carry his books always along with
him; and even when he went to bed, he put them and his sword under his
pillow, calling them “his military viaticum, and the elements of warlike
virtue.” He esteemed Achilles to have been happy in finding so great a
man to celebrate his virtues.
Having found a most curious casket, both for matter and workmanship,
amongst the plunder of Damascus, and his friends having asked him “What
use it was most proper for?” he answered, “We will dedicate it to Homer,
since it is but reasonable that the most precious monument of human wit
should be preserved in the finest piece of workmanship.” From hence the
most correct edition of that poet, which Alexander was at much pains
to get, was called the “edition of the casket”; because in that casket
the Persians had used to keep odours and perfumes. One day as a certain
messenger of good news ran towards him, in all haste stretching out his
right hand, with the highest marks of joy on his countenance; “What news
can you tell me,” says he, “that’s worthy of so much joy, unless that
Homer is alive again?” He was then arrived to such a degree of happiness,
that he thought there wanted nothing to complete his glory, but one
capable to trumpet his praise. By frequent reading of him, he had got
almost all by heart; so that no person could quote him more readily or
familiarly, or judge of him more justly.
_Bucephalus_
He showed an extraordinary courage and dexterity, to the great
astonishment of his father and others, in managing the horse Bucephalus,
which name was given him from his being marked with the figure of an
ox’s head. Thessaly was very much famed at that time for fine horses,
and great numbers of them were bred in that country, but none of them
was to be compared to Bucephalus either for mettle or beautifulness;
for which reason Philonicus a Pharsalian, thinking him worthy of the
greatest prince in those parts, brought him to Philip, and proposed to
sell him for sixteen talents. But when they came to try his speed and
management, by riding him out into the fields, there was none of the
king’s friends or attendants that durst venture to manage him; for he
rose upon them, and frightened all that essayed to mount him, by his
fierceness: so that he was now looked upon as unmanageable and useless,
upon the account of his wildness: at which Alexander sighing said, “What
a fine horse those people lose through their ignorance and cowardice.”
After having repeated these words over and over, his father chid him “for
finding fault with horsemen that were both older and more skilful than
himself, as if he could manage that horse better than they.” To which he
answered, “I will manage him better than they, father, if you will give
me leave.” Upon this, the father asked him, “What he would forfeit if
he could not execute what he had undertaken?” “I will forfeit the price
of the horse,” replied he. At this every body smiled, and agreed, “That
if he won, his father should buy the horse for him; but if he lost, he
should lay down the money himself.” Then Alexander, taking the horse by
the bridle, turned him directly to the sun, that so he might not see
his shadow; for he had observed, that this frightened him, and made him
more untractable. Finding his fury not much abated notwithstanding this,
he stroked his mane, laid his cloak aside gently, and jumped upon him
at once, though he was foaming with rage. Then Bucephalus, that was not
used to obey, began to fling with his heels, and throw about his head,
and very obstinately refuse to be guided by the bridle; then he essayed
to get loose, and run away full speed. He was then in a spacious plain
that was fit for riding in: wherefore Alexander, giving him the rein,
and setting his spurs to his sides, rode shouting with all the vigour
and fury imaginable. And after he had traversed a vast space of ground,
till he was weary, and willing to stop, he spurred him on till such time
as his mettle was exhausted, and he became tame; after which he brought
him back very gentle and tractable. When Alexander alighted, his father
embraced him with tears of joy, and kissing him, said, “He must seek
out a larger empire for himself, for that the kingdom of Macedon was
too small for so vast a spirit.” Afterwards Bucephalus continued the
same fierceness towards others, while he obeyed Alexander alone with a
wonderful submission; and after he had been his companion in many labours
and dangers, he was at last killed in a battle against Porus.[e]
ALEXANDER’S FIRST DEEDS
From the remotest ages of Pelasgian antiquity down to the time of the
Roman empire, the holy island of Samothrace, the seat of an awfully
mysterious worship, was accounted equal to Delphi in sanctity. Here it
is said Philip first saw Olympias, when they partook at the same time in
the Cabirian mysteries, and resolved to seek her hand. Olympias loved
the fanatical orgies celebrated by the Thracian and Macedonian women
in honour of their Dionysus; and is even said to have introduced some
of the symbols of this frantic worship,--the huge tame snakes, which
the Bacchanals wreathed round their necks and arms,--into her husband’s
palace. It is a stroke which agrees well with the other features of her
wild, impetuous character. Who can estimate the degree in which this
irritable, uncontrollable nature may have contributed one element towards
that combination of ardent enthusiasm with the soberest forethought which
distinguishes Alexander, perhaps above every man that ever filled a like
station?
The anecdotes related of Alexander’s boyhood are chiefly remarkable as
indicating what may be fitly called a kingly spirit, which not only
felt conscious that it was born to command, and was impatient of all
opposition to its will, but also studied how it might subject all things
and persons around it to its own higher purposes. This inborn royalty
of soul could hardly have failed to find its way to fame, had it even
been originally lodged in an obscure corner. But the prince, who was
destined to effect so great a change in the state of the world, was to
be committed to the care of the man whose spirit was not less active and
ambitious, who also in the range of his intellectual conquests had never
been equalled, and who founded a much more lasting empire in the sphere
of thought. Never, before or since, have two persons so great in the
historical sense of the word, been brought together--above all in the
same relation--as Alexander and Aristotle.
Alexander was but thirteen years old when he became the philosopher’s
pupil. This relation appears to have subsisted between them for no
more than three successive years. Alexander was only sixteen when
Philip set out on his expedition to Thrace, from which he only returned
in the autumn of 339, and he was entrusted with the regency of the
kingdom--probably under the direction of a council--during his father’s
absence. He was then of course occupied with affairs of state; and in the
course of this time, a revolt of one of the conquered tribes, probably on
the Illyrian frontier, afforded an occasion for his first essay in the
art of war. He reduced the insurgents, took their chief city, expelled
its inhabitants, and planted a new colony there, to which he gave the
name of Alexandropolis. In the interval between the battle of Chæronea
and his father’s death, he was engaged in transactions quite alien from
philosophical or literary pursuits. It is very doubtful whether he saw
Aristotle again before he came to the throne. Their personal intercourse
must at least have been confined to occasional interviews.
It is pleasing to find it recorded that still he wrote a book on
the office of a king expressly for Alexander. Nevertheless we have
unquestionable proof that even on this head the force of nature was
stronger than that of education. Aristotle’s national prejudices led him
into extravagant notions as to the superiority of the Hellenic race over
the rest of mankind: as if the distinction between Greek and barbarian
was nearly the same as between man and brute, person and thing: hence
slavery appeared to him not a result of injustice and cruelty, but an
unalterable law of nature, a relation necessary to the welfare of society.
Hence too he deduced a practical maxim, which he endeavoured to inculcate
upon the future conqueror of Asia, that he should treat the Greeks as
his subjects, the barbarians as his slaves. The advice was contrary to
Alexander’s views and sentiments: it did not suit the position which his
consciousness of his own destiny led him to assume. He acted, we know, on
a directly opposite principle.
We have at least reason to believe that Alexander, though he was but
twenty years old at his father’s death, had learned, thought, seen, and
done more to fit him for the place he was to fill, than many sovereigns
in the full maturity of their age and experience. Like his father, he
found himself, on his accession to the throne, in a situation which
called forth all the powers of his mind and all the energies of his
character. Macedonia, though nominally at peace with all its European
neighbours, was surrounded by enemies, who might be expected eagerly
to seize the opportunity, which seemed to offer itself now that the
crown had devolved on a stripling, to shake off a yoke which they had
endured with ill-disguised impatience. In the kingdom itself there were
powerful families, which had not forgotten the times when they aspired to
independence, if not to the possession of the throne. Amyntas, too, the
son of Perdiccas, was still living, and might be tempted to assert his
claim. It was known that the court of Persia was on the watch.
The young king’s first object was to secure himself at home: the next
to overawe his hostile neighbours, and to extort from them such an
acknowledgment of his superiority, as would place him in the position
which his father was occupying at the time of his death. In Macedonia,
though there might be some ambitious and disaffected nobles, the mass of
the people both recognised his title and were attached to his person.
Amyntas, son of Perdiccas, was put to death on a charge of a plot against
Alexander’s life. After the last honours had been paid to his father, the
king showed himself in a general assembly of his people, and declared his
intention of prosecuting his predecessor’s undertakings with like vigour,
and, it is said, granted a general immunity from all burdens except
military service.
The news of Philip’s death had excited a general ferment throughout
Greece. The gloomy prospect which, since the battle of Chæronea, must
have saddened so many hearts--the thought that the flower of the
Grecian youth were henceforth to shed their blood for the execution of
projects which threatened their country with perpetual subjection--was
suddenly exchanged for the liveliest hopes of deliverance from the
foreigner’s power. In all the principal states language was heard, and
preparations were seen, denoting a disposition to take advantage of the
unexpected opportunity. Ambracia expelled the Macedonian garrison, and
re-established its democratical institutions. The Acarnanian exiles who
had taken refuge in Ætolia prepared to return, and the Ætolians in their
congress voted succours to reinstate them. Athens took the lead in these
movements, and indeed seems to have been the centre from which they
proceeded.
DEMOSTHENES RIDICULES ALEXANDER
[Sidenote: [336 B.C.]]
Among the Athenian envoys who had been sent to congratulate Philip was
Charidemus; being at Ægæ at the time of Philip’s death, he lost no
time in despatching a courier, who was directed to carry the news to
Demosthenes before he communicated it to any one else. It happened that
the orator was at this juncture mourning the loss of an only daughter,
who had died but seven days before; but his private sorrow gave way to
public cares. He immediately laid aside his weeds, came out dressed in
white, with a festive wreath on his head, and a joyful countenance, and
was seen performing a solemn sacrifice at one of the public altars. In
order to give greater effect to the momentous tidings, the orator appears
to have resorted to a stratagem which proves that he knew his countrymen
to be still superstitious, and credulous. He appeared before the council
of Five Hundred, and declared that it had been revealed to him in a dream
by Zeus and Athene, that some great good was about to happen to the
commonwealth. Messengers soon after arrived with the news which fulfilled
the divine announcement. It was apparently the object of Demosthenes,
by this artifice, to impress the people with his own view of the change
which Philip’s death had made in the situation and prospects of Athens.
It was at least as harmless an imposture as was ever practised; and,
if fraud could ever be pious, might deserve that epithet.[19] He now
moved moreover that religious honours should be decreed to the memory of
Pausanias.
This conduct of Demosthenes was strongly censured by his contemporaries
on various grounds; though not on those which render it most repugnant to
the maxims and feelings of civilised society in modern times. Yet we know
that even under the better light which we enjoy, not only the massacre
of the Huguenots was celebrated with public rejoicings and thanksgivings
in the capital of Christian Europe, but the assassination of the prince
of Orange, and that of Henry III of France, were openly applauded, and
Balthasar Gérard and Clément treated as heroes.
[Illustration: BUST OF ALEXANDER
(In the Capitoline Museum, Rome)]
Phocion objected to the proposed demonstrations of joy on two accounts:
first, because such exultation over an enemy’s death was dastardly, and
then, because the force which had won the day at Chæronea had only been
diminished by the loss of a single life. That the loss which Macedonia
had sustained by Philip’s death, was only to be reckoned as that of
a single soldier, was manifestly false; and the best excuse that can
be offered for Demosthenes is, that he wished to place the event in a
different light--one which he might well believe to be the true one.
We cannot indeed be sure that he entertained so low an opinion of
Alexander’s abilities as he thought it expedient to profess; though it
appears that the impression made on him by the young prince when he saw
him at his father’s court was not favourable, and on his return from
his embassy he turned his boyish performance into ridicule. It was true
that Alexander had at least acted the part of a man better than himself
at Chæronea; but his real character, and the promise of greatness which
he held out, could not yet be known at Athens. Perhaps some report of
his multifarious studies and attainments had been heard there, which
afforded a handle for Demosthenes to compare him with Margites, the hero
of a burlesque poem attributed to Homer, who knew many things, but none
well; and the orator now ventured to assure the Athenians, that they had
nothing to fear from the young king, who would never stir from Macedonia,
but would remain at Pella, dividing his time between his peaceful studies
and the inspection of victims, which would never permit him to undertake
any dangerous expedition.
There were beside engines which the orator was able to set at work
against him, which were known only to himself, and which he was obliged
to keep secret, but which might reasonably strengthen his confidence. He
was in correspondence with the Persian court, and had, it seems, already
received sums of money from it to be distributed at his discretion for
the purpose of thwarting Philip’s enterprise against Asia. The conduct of
Demosthenes in this transaction--if we consider that he was carrying on
a clandestine negotiation with a foreign state against which his own had
declared war, to injure a prince who was the ally of Athens--cannot be
vindicated on the principles which regulate the intercourse of civilised
nations in modern times. But how little were such scruples heeded when
Napoleon’s disasters opened a prospect for restoring the independence of
Germany!
The people, however, seem to have retained too lively a recollection of
the consternation which had followed the battle of Chæronea, to pledge
themselves hastily to a renewal of the contest with Macedonia. The
language of Æschines inclines us to believe that they did not adopt the
motion of Demosthenes with respect to Pausanias. But he prevailed on them
to send envoys to many of the Greek states, with secret instructions.
The Persian gold, or the promise of subsidies, may have overcome many
obstacles. There was another quarter in which the Athenian emissaries
might still more safely reckon on a friendly reception. Attalus,
Alexander’s personal enemy, was commanding a body of troops in Asia. A
negotiation was opened with him by means of a letter from Demosthenes,
and nothing probably but want of time prevented its success.
ALEXANDER DASHES THROUGH GREECE
[Sidenote: [336-335 B.C.]]
But all these plans and preparations were disconcerted and suppressed
by the rapidity of Alexander’s movements. It seems as if his elder
counsellors, who had been long used to Philip’s cautious policy, advised
him to leave the Greeks for the present to themselves, and not to make
any attempt to force them to obedience, until he had established a
good understanding with the barbarian tribes on his northern frontier,
which after Philip’s death had begun to assume a threatening aspect.
Alexander, however, saw that, if he should adopt such a course, the work
of his father’s reign might be undone in a few months: he saw that his
presence was immediately necessary in Greece, and he set his forces in
motion without delay. In his passage through Thessaly, he endeavoured
to conciliate the ruling families by promises. All the concessions that
had been made to Philip were renewed to him: their revenues and troops
were placed at his disposal. At Thermopylæ he assembled the Amphictyonic
council, perhaps before the ordinary time of the autumnal meeting with
a view to secure the adherence of the northern tribes which had votes
in it; and from them it seems he received the title [Leader of the
Greeks] which had been conferred on his father in the Sacred War. He then
advanced by rapid marches to Thebes, where, as no preparations had yet
been made to execute the resolution which had been precipitately adopted,
his presence awed the disaffected into entire submission.
His approach produced a like effect at Athens. The people hastened to
appease him by an embassy, which they sent to apologise for their late
proceedings, and to offer him all the honours they had conferred on
Philip. Demosthenes himself was appointed one of the envoys--perhaps
through the intrigues of his adversaries; and he even proceeded as far
as Cithæron, on his way to the Macedonian camp. We do not know whether
it was his own reflections on the dangers of his mission, or some hints
which he received as to Alexander’s intentions, that induced him to find
some excuse for turning back. The rest of the ambassadors, however, found
the king ready to accept their excuses and promises, perhaps were led
to believe that he had never suspected the commonwealth of any hostile
designs. He despatched a trusty officer, named Hecatæus, over to Asia,
with orders either to arrest Attalus and convey him to Macedonia, or to
put him to death. It seems that Attalus had so won the affections of his
troops, that Hecatæus thought it safest to have him secretly killed.
Alexander had sent envoys before him to summon a fresh congress at
Corinth. He found this assembly as obsequious as that which had been
called by his father; and was invested by it with the same title and
authority for the prosecution of the war with Persia, as had been
bestowed on Philip. Sparta alone either refused to send deputies to the
congress, or instructed them to disavow its proceedings. She had been
used--such was still her language--herself to take the lead among the
Greeks, and would not resign her hereditary rank to another. Alexander
perhaps smiled at these pretensions of a state which was hardly able to
protect itself, but did not think it worth while to put its resolution to
the test, by an invasion of its territory. So too the revolt of Ambracia
did not appear to him important enough to detain him so long as would
have been necessary to crush it. He even condescended to assure the
Ambracians that they had only forestalled his intentions: that he should
of his own accord have restored their democratical institutions. It was a
concession which his commanding posture enabled him to make with dignity,
and therefore without danger. Having thus in the course of a few weeks
settled the affairs of Greece, he returned to Macedonia, with the hope
that in the following spring he might be able to embark for Asia.
ALEXANDER WINNOWS THE NORTH
But when the season for military operations drew near in 335, reports
were heard of movements among the Thracian tribes and the Triballians,
which seemed to render it necessary, for the security of his kingdom
during his absence, that he should spread the terror of his arms in that
quarter, before he began an expedition which would carry him so far away
from it. Early in the spring Alexander set out on his march toward the
Danube. A small squadron of ships of war was ordered to be fitted out at
Byzantium, and to sail up the river to meet the army. In ten days, having
crossed the Hebrus at Philippopolis, it reached the foot of the Balkan.
Here the Thracians had collected their forces to guard the defiles, and
were seen entrenched behind their wagons on the summit of the pass. As
the road which led up to it was extremely steep, they had formed the plan
of rolling their wagons down on the enemy as they advanced, and then
falling on their broken ranks. Alexander perceived the object of their
preparations, and provided against the danger. The heavy infantry were
ordered, where the ground permitted, to open their files and make way for
the wagons: where this was not practicable, to throw themselves forward
on the ground, and link their shields together over their heads, so that
the descending masses might bound over them. The shock came and passed in
a few moments, leaving the men unhurt; they closed their ranks, and rose
from the ground with heightened courage. The enemy were soon dislodged
from their position by a skilful and vigorous charge, leaving fifteen
hundred slain: the fugitives easily escaped; the camp, in which were
their wives and children, fell into the hands of the victors.
Having crossed the mountains without further interruption, Alexander
now resumed his march, and in three days reached the right bank of the
Danube, where he found the galleys which he expected from Byzantium.
Under favour of night they crossed over unmolested, and landed in fields
of standing corn. This the phalanx levelled, as it marched through, with
its spears, the cavalry following until they reached the open ground,
where the enemy, astonished and dismayed by their unexpected appearance,
did not even wait for the first charge of the horse, but took refuge in
their town which lay but a few miles off. Even this--for it was poorly
fortified--they abandoned at Alexander’s approach, and taking as many as
they could of the women and children on their horses, retreated into the
wilderness. The town was sacked and razed to the ground, and Alexander
having sacrificed on the right bank of the Danube to the gods who had
granted him a safe passage, returned to his camp on the other side. Here
he received embassies, with submissive or at least pacific overtures,
from Syrmus, and from many of the independent nations bordering on the
river. His chief object was attained in the proof thus afforded of the
terror inspired by his arms.
He now turned his march westward, to reach the borders of Illyria,
through the country of the Agrianians and Pæonians, on the western side
of the mountains which contain the springs of the Hebrus and the Nestus.
The king however was enabled to pursue his march without obstruction
up the valley of the Erigon, towards the fortress of Pelium. It stood
on high ground in the midst of lofty wooded hills, which were also
guarded by Illyrian troops, so as to command all the approaches of the
place; and the barbarians had sought an additional safeguard against the
assaults of the Macedonians, in a sacrifice, which they celebrated on
the hill tops, of three boys, three girls, and as many black rams. Yet
all these precautions proved fruitless; and Alexander, after he made
himself master of the adjacent hills--where he found the victims of those
horrid rites--was proceeding to invest Pelium itself, when the arrival
of Glaucias with a numerous army compelled him to retire, that he might
provide for his own safety. We shall not dwell on the evolutions by which
he extricated himself from a most perilous position. It is sufficient to
mention that he first penetrated through a difficult defile, and crossed
a river in the presence of an enemy greatly superior in numbers; and
three days afterwards, having suddenly returned, fell upon the allies,
whose camp was carelessly guarded, in the night, and broke up their
host. Glaucias fled towards his home, and was pursued by Alexander with
great slaughter as far as the mountains which protected his territories.
Clitus at first took shelter in Pelium; but soon despairing of his own
resources, set fire to the fortress, and retreated into the dominions of
Glaucias.
THE REVOLT OF THEBES
[Sidenote: [335 B.C.]]
The accounts which reached Greece of Alexander’s operations in these
wild and distant regions, were, it may be supposed, very imperfect and
confused; and at length, during an interval in which no news was heard
of him, a report of his death sprang up, or was studiously set afloat.
The report seems to have encouraged a party of Theban exiles to enter
the city by night, and attempt a revolution. They began in an unhappy
spirit with the massacre of two officers of the Macedonian garrison. They
then summoned an assembly, and prevailed on the people to rise in open
insurrection, and lay siege to the Cadmea. The citizens who were still
in exile were recalled, the slaves enfranchised, the aliens won by new
privileges. Demosthenes furnished them with a subsidy which enabled them
to procure arms, and induced the Athenians to enter into an alliance with
them, and emboldened the people to decree an expedition in aid of the
Thebans. This decree, however, was not carried into effect. Elis, too,
openly espoused the cause of the Thebans so far as even to send their
forces as far as the isthmus, where they were joined by those of some
Arcadian states. But here their generals were induced to halt, by the
tidings which reached them of Alexander’s return.
He was still at Pelium when he heard of the revolt of Thebes. He knew
that unless it was crushed in time it would probably spread, and he
was anxious about the garrison of the Cadmea. He therefore set out
immediately for Bœotia. In seven days, having traversed the upper
provinces of Macedonia and crossed the Cambunian range towards its
junction with Pindus, he reached Pelinna in Thessaly. Six days more
brought him into Bœotia. So rapid were his movements that, before the
Thebans had heard that he had passed Thermopylæ, he had arrived at
Onchestus. The authors of the insurrection would not at first listen
to the news of his approach; they gave out that it was Antipater who
commanded the Macedonian army: and then that Alexander, the son of
Æropus, had been taken for his royal namesake. But when the truth was
ascertained, they found the people still willing to persevere in the
struggle which had now become so hopeless.
Alexander, on the other hand, wishing to give them time for better
counsels, now moved slowly against the city; and even when he had
encamped near the foot of the Cadmea, which they had encompassed with
a double line of circumvallation, waited some time for proposals of
peace, which he was ready to grant on very lenient terms. There was a
strong party within which was willing to submit to his pleasure, and
urged the people to cast themselves on his mercy: but the leaders of the
revolt, who could expect none for themselves, resisted every such motion;
and as beside their personal influence they filled most places in the
government, they unhappily prevailed. It was their object to draw matters
to extremities. When Alexander sent to demand Phœnix and Prothytas, two
of their chiefs, they demanded Philotas and Antipater in return; and when
he proclaimed an offer of pardon to all who should surrender themselves
to him and share the common peace, they made a counter proclamation from
the top of a tower, inviting all who desired the independence of Greece
to take part with them against the tyrant. These insults, and especially
the animosity and distrust which they implied, put an end to all thoughts
of peace, and Alexander reluctantly prepared for an assault.
The fate of Thebes seems after all to have been decided more by accident
than by design. Perdiccas, who was stationed with his division in front
of the camp, not far from the Theban entrenchments, without waiting for
the signal, began the attack, and forced his way into the space between
the enemy’s lines, and was followed by Amyntas son of Andromenes, who
commanded the next division. Alexander was thus induced to bring up the
rest of his forces. Yet at first he only sent in some light troops to
the support of the two divisions which were engaged with the enemy. When
however Perdiccas had fallen, severely wounded, as he led his men within
the second line of entrenchments, and the Thebans, who at first had given
way, rallied and in their turn put the Macedonians to flight, he himself
advanced to the scene of combat with the phalanx, and fell upon them in
the midst of the disorder caused by the pursuit. They were instantly
routed, and made for the nearest gates of the city, in such confusion
that the enemy entered with them, and being soon joined by the garrison
of the Cadmea, made themselves masters of the adjacent part of the city.
The besieged made a short stand in the market-place; but, when they saw
themselves threatened on all sides, the cavalry took to flight through
the opposite gates, and the rest as they could find a passage. But few
of the foot combatants effected their escape; and the conquerors glutted
their rage with unresisted slaughter.
It was not however so much from the Macedonians, as from some of their
auxiliaries, that the Thebans suffered the utmost excesses of hostile
cruelty. Alexander had brought with him a body of Thracians among his
light troops, and he had been reinforced by the Phocians and by all the
Bœotian towns hostile to Thebes--more especially by Orchomenos, Thespiæ,
and Platæa. The Thracians, impelled by their habitual ferocity, of which
they had shown so fearful a specimen many years before, at the capture of
Mycalessus; the Bœotians, eager to revenge the wrongs they had endured
from Thebes in the day of her prosperity--revelled in the usual license
of carnage, plunder, and wanton outrages on those whose age and sex
left them most defenceless. The bloodshed, however, was restrained by
cupidity, that the most valuable part of the spoil might not be lost. The
number of the slain was estimated at six thousand; that of the prisoners
at thirty thousand. The Macedonians lost about five hundred men.
THE FATE OF THEBES
It only remained to fix the final doom of the conquered city. Alexander,
who had probably made up his mind on it, referred it to a council of his
allies, in which the representatives of the Bœotian towns took a leading
part. The issue of their deliberation might be easily foreseen, and did
not want plausible reasons to justify it. There was a sentence which had
been hanging over Thebes ever since the Persian War in which she had
so recklessly betrayed the cause of Grecian liberty. It had never been
forgotten, and calls had been heard from time to time for its execution.
And the city which had so long been permitted by the indulgence of
the Greeks to retain a forfeited existence, had nevertheless been
distinguished by her merciless treatment of her conquered enemies. In the
case of Platæa she had not only instigated the Spartans to a cold-blooded
slaughter, forbidden by the usages of Greek warfare, but she had
destroyed a city which by its heroic patriotism had earned the gratitude
of the whole nation, and was itself a monument of the national triumph.
Nor was it forgotten that when Athens was at the mercy of its enemies she
alone had proposed to sweep it from the face of Greece.
It seems that these old offences were placed in the foreground, while
little notice was taken of the later acts of violence and oppression
towards the Bœotian towns, which were the real grounds of their
implacable resentment. The decree of the council was that the Cadmea
should be left standing, to be occupied by a Macedonian garrison; that
the lower city should be levelled with the ground, and the territory,
except the part which belonged to the temples, divided among the allies:
the men, women, and children, sold as slaves, all but the priests and
priestesses, and some citizens who stood in a relation of hospitality
to Philip or Alexander, or held the office of proxenus to the state of
Macedonia. Under this head were probably included most of the conqueror’s
political adherents. He made one other exception, which was honourable
rather to his taste than his humanity. He bade spare the house of Pindar,
and as many as were to be found of his descendants. The council likewise
decreed that Orchomenos and Platæa should be rebuilt. The demolished
buildings of Thebes may have furnished materials for the restoration of
Platæa.
[Illustration: RUINS OF THE GREAT-GATE IN THE WALLS OF MESSENE]
It can hardly be doubted that policy had a large share in this rigorous
measure, and that Thebes was destroyed chiefly because it would not have
been safe to leave it standing, and that the example of its fate might
strike the rest of Greece with a wholesome awe. Alexander himself in his
subsequent treatment of individual Thebans tacitly acknowledged that his
severity had been carried to an extreme which bordered upon cruelty.
But the harshness which he displayed in this case enabled him to assume
the appearance of magnanimity and gentleness in others. All the Greek
states which had betrayed their hostility towards him, now vied with one
another in apologies, recantations, and offers of submission. A reaction
immediately took place at Elis in favour of the Macedonian party; and in
the Arcadian towns which had sent succours for the Thebans, the authors
of this imprudent step were condemned to death. The Ætolians too who had
shown some symptoms of disaffection sent an embassy to deprecate the
king’s displeasure.
Athens, however, had most reason to dread his anger, and strove to avert
it by a servile homage, which at once marks the character of the man
who proposed it and the depth to which the people had fallen since the
battle of Chæronea. When the first fugitives arrived from Thebes, the
Athenians were celebrating their great Eleusinian mysteries. All fled in
consternation to the city, and removed their property out of the country
within the walls. An assembly was immediately called, in which, on the
motion of Demades, it was decreed that ten envoys, the most acceptable
that could be found, should be sent to congratulate Alexander on his
safe return from his northern expedition, and on the chastisement
which he had inflicted on Thebes. The king discovered no displeasure
at this piece of impudent obsequiousness, but in reply sent a letter
to the people demanding nine of the leading anti-Macedonian orators
and generals--Demosthenes, Lycurgus, Hyperides, Polyeuctus, Chares,
Charidemus, Ephialtes, Diotimus, and Mœrocles, whom he charged both with
the transactions which had led to the battle of Chæronea, and with all
the hostile measures that had since been adopted at Athens towards his
father and himself, particularly with the principal share in the revolt
of Thebes.
In the assembly which was held to consider this requisition, Phocion,
it is said, both counselled the people to surrender the objects of the
conqueror’s resentment or apprehensions, and exhorted the elected victims
to devote themselves spontaneously for the public weal. Demosthenes is
reported to have quoted the fable of the wolf who called on the sheep to
give up their dogs. The people wavered between fear and reluctance, till
Demades stept in to remove the difficulty. He undertook--it was commonly
believed for a fee of five talents--to appease Alexander, and save the
threatened lives. He found the king satiated with the punishment of the
Thebans, and disposed for an exercise of mercy which might soften the
impression it had produced on the minds of the Greeks. He remitted his
demand with respect to all except Charidemus, who perhaps had incurred
his peculiar displeasure by his conduct at Ægæ after Philip’s death, and
who now embarked for Asia, and proceeded to the Persian court.
The conqueror celebrated his return to Macedonia with an Olympic festival
at Ægæ, and with games in honour of the Muses at Dium in Pieria. The
inhabitants of Dium held the memory of Orpheus in great reverence, and
boasted of the possession of his bones. At the time of the games it was
reported that a statue of the ancient bard, which perhaps adorned his
monument near the town, had been seen bathed in sweat. Alexander’s Lycian
soothsayer, Aristander of Telmessus, bade him hail the omen: it signified
that the masters of epic and lyric poetry should be wearied by the tale
of his achievements. These achievements will now for some time claim our
undivided attention.[h]
FOOTNOTES
[19] [It is a bishop and a doctor of divinity, Thirlwall, who justifies
this mummery. If it is “excusable” and almost “pious,” the trickeries of
Philip merit the same tender consideration.]
[Illustration: GREEK HARVESTING]
[Illustration: APOLLO AND MERCURY]