ALEXANDER AND BUCEPHALUS
Alexander, the son of Philip of Macedon, became king in 336 B.C. The
queen-mother adored her brave son and dreamed of the great things he
would do when he became a man. She did all she could to awake his
ambition, telling him that he was descended from Achilles, the hero of
Troy, and bidding him, when he was older, strive to do nobler deeds
than his great ancestor had done. One of his tutors called the young
prince Achilles, while he named himself Phœnix, after the tutor of the
old Greek hero.
The Iliad of Homer, which tells of the deeds of Achilles, Alexander
knew by heart. When he was a man he always carried a copy with him on
his campaigns. It is said that he slept with it as well as his sword
beneath his pillow.
Alexander might almost have been a Spartan boy, so simple was his
training. He learned to ride, to race, to swim, but he never cared to
wrestle as did most lads of his time. Nor would he offer prizes for
such contests at the games which were held each year.
When the prince was asked if he would run in the Olympic games, for he
was fleet of foot, he answered, ‘Yes, if I could have kings to race
with me.’
Even as a lad he was eager to win glory, and when he heard of a great
victory gained by his royal father, or of a town that had been subdued
by him, he was more sorry than glad, and said to his companions, ‘My
father will make so many conquests that there will be nothing left for
me to win.’
One day, while Alexander was still a boy, a Greek from Thessaly arrived
at the court of Macedon, bringing with him a noble horse, named
Bucephalus, which he offered to sell for £2600.
Philip went with his son and his courtiers to look at the horse and
to test its powers. But when any one approached or tried to mount,
Bucephalus reared and kicked, and became so unmanageable that the king,
growing angry, bade the Thessalian take the animal away.
The prince had been watching the horse keenly, and as he was being led
away, the lad exclaimed, ‘What an excellent horse do they lose for want
of skill and courage to manage him!’
Philip heard what his son said, but at first he took no notice of his
words. But when the prince said the same thing again and again, he
looked at Alexander, and saw that he was really sorry that the horse
was being sent away.
Then, half mocking, the king said, ‘Do you reproach those who are older
than yourself, as if you knew more and were better able to manage him
than they?’
‘I could manage the horse better than others have done,’ answered the
prince.
‘And if you fail what will you forfeit?’ asked the king.
‘I will pay the whole price of the horse,’ said Alexander quickly.
The courtiers laughed at the confidence of the prince, but paying no
attention to them, he ran toward the horse and seizing the bridle
turned Bucephalus, so that he faced the sun. For the prince had noticed
that the steed was afraid of his own shadow as it flitted backward and
forward with his every movement.
After speaking quietly to the horse and patting him, the prince flung
aside the mantle he was wearing, and nimbly mounted on his back. Using
neither whip nor spur, he let the animal choose his own pace. And
Bucephalus was content to go at a quiet trot.
[Illustration: He ran toward the horse and seized the bridle]
Gradually Alexander urged him on to a gallop, with voice and spur. As
the pace grew quicker and quicker, the king looked on in fear lest the
lad should be thrown. But when he saw that the horse was well under
control, and that Alexander had turned and was coming back, he burst
into tears of joy, while the courtiers loudly applauded the prince.
As he leaped from the horse, Philip kissed him and said, ‘O my son,
look thee out a kingdom equal to and worthy of thyself, for Macedon is
too little for thee.’
Soon after this the king sent for a famous philosopher, named
Aristotle, to teach his son.
Alexander was quick to learn, and his eager interest in his studies
pleased Aristotle. In after days, when the prince had become a king and
was adding kingdom after kingdom to his possessions, he wrote to his
old tutor, ‘I assure you I had rather excel others in the knowledge of
what is excellent than in the extent of my power and dominions.’
When Philip was murdered, Alexander was twenty years of age, ‘a
stripling,’ Demosthenes said, making light of his youth. But had
Demosthenes known the character of the prince, he would not have spoken
thus slightingly of his years.
The orator not only rejoiced when Philip was murdered, but he urged the
people to rouse themselves and throw off the yoke of Macedon. The old
days when the Athenians would not listen to Demosthenes were long past.
Now his matchless eloquence could hold them spellbound, even when they
refused to be guided by his advice. But in Athens, as in many other
cities, discontent had long been smouldering, and fanned by his words
it broke out into a blaze.
The young king found that he must put down rebellion in Greece before
he set out, as he wished to do, to conquer Persia.