DETERIORATION OF CHARACTER.
B.C. 329
Alexander at the summit of his ambition.--Sad changes.--Alexander
becomes dissipated.--His officers became estranged.--Character of
Parmenio.--His services to Alexander.--Parmenio's son, Philotas.--His
dissolute character.--Conspiracies.--Plot of Dymnus.--Dymnus destroys
himself.--Philotas suspected.--The council of officers.--Philotas
accused.--Arrest of Philotas.--The body of Dymnus.--Alexander's
address to the army.--Philotas brought to trial.--Defense of
Philotas.--He is put to the torture.--Confession of Philotas.--He
is stoned to death.--Parmenio condemned to death.--Mission of
Polydamas.--Precautions.--Brutal murder of Parmenio.--Story of
Clitus.--He saves Alexander's life.--Services of Clitus.--Occurrences
at the banquet.--Clitus reproaches Alexander.--Alexander's
rage.--Alexander assassinates Clitus.--His remorse.
Alexander was now twenty-six years of age. He had accomplished fully
the great objects which had been the aim of his ambition. Darius was
dead, and he was himself the undisputed master of all western Asia.
His wealth was almost boundless. His power was supreme over what was,
in his view, the whole known world. But, during the process of rising
to this ascendency, his character was sadly changed. He lost the
simplicity, the temperance, the moderation, and the sense of justice
which characterized his early years. He adopted the dress and the
luxurious manners of the Persians. He lived in the palaces of the
Persian kings, imitating all their state and splendor. He became very
fond of convivial entertainments and of wine, and often drank to
excess. He provided himself a seraglio of three hundred and sixty
young females, in whose company he spent his time, giving himself up
to every form of effeminacy and dissipation. In a word, he was no
longer the same man. The decision, the energy of character, the steady
pursuit of great ends by prudence, forethought, patient effort, and
self-denial, all disappeared; nothing now seemed to interest him but
banquets, carousals, parties of pleasure, and whole days and nights
spent in dissipation and vice.
This state of things was a great cause of mortification and chagrin to
the officers of his army. Many of them were older than himself, and
better able to resist these temptations to luxury, effeminacy, and
vice. They therefore remained firm in their original simplicity and
integrity, and after some respectful but ineffectual remonstrances,
they stood aloof, alienated from their commander in heart, and
condemning very strongly, among themselves, his wickedness and folly.
On the other hand, many of the _younger_ officers followed Alexander's
example, and became as vain, as irregular, and as fond of vicious
indulgence as he. But then, though they joined him in his pleasures,
there was no strong bond of union between him and them. The tie which
binds mere companions in pleasure together is always very slight and
frail. Thus Alexander gradually lost the confidence and affection of
his old friends, and gained no new ones. His officers either
disapproved his conduct, and were distant and cold, or else joined him
in his dissipation and vice, without feeling any real respect for his
character, or being bound to him by any principle of fidelity.
Parmenio and his son Philotas were, respectively, striking examples of
these two kinds of character. Parmenio was an old general, now
considerably advanced in life. He had served, as has already been
stated, under Philip, Alexander's father, and had acquired great
experience and great fame before Alexander succeeded to the throne.
During the whole of Alexander's career Parmenio had been his principal
lieutenant general, and he had always placed his greatest reliance
upon him in all trying emergencies. He was cool, calm, intrepid,
sagacious. He held Alexander back from many rash enterprises, and was
the efficient means of his accomplishing most of his plans. It is the
custom among all nations to give kings the glory of all that is
effected by their generals and officers; and the writers of those days
would, of course, in narrating the exploits of the Macedonian army,
exaggerate the share which Alexander had in their performances, and
underrate those of Parmenio. But in modern times, many impartial
readers, in reviewing calmly these events, think that there is reason
to doubt whether Alexander, if he had set out on his great expedition
without Parmenio, would have succeeded at all.
Philotas was the son of Parmenio, but he was of a very different
character. The difference was one which is very often, in all ages of
the world, to be observed between those who _inherit_ greatness and
those who acquire it for themselves. We see the same analogy reigning
at the present day, when the sons of the wealthy, who are _born_ to
fortune, substitute pride, and arrogance, and vicious self-indulgence
and waste for the modesty, and prudence, and virtue of their sires, by
means of which the fortune was acquired. Philotas was proud, boastful,
extravagant, and addicted, like Alexander his master, to every species
of indulgence and dissipation. He was universally hated. His father,
out of patience with his haughty airs, his boastings, and his pomp and
parade, advised him, one day, to "make himself less." But Parmenio's
prudent advice to his son was thrown away. Philotas spoke of himself
as Alexander's great reliance. "What would Philip have been or have
done," said he, "without my father Parmenio? and what would Alexander
have been or have done, without me?" These things were reported to
Alexander, and thus the mind of each was filled with suspicion, fear,
and hatred toward the other.
Courts and camps are always the scenes of conspiracy and treason, and
Alexander was continually hearing of conspiracies and plots formed
against him. The strong sentiment of love and devotion with which he
inspired all around him at the commencement of his career, was now
gone, and his generals and officers were continually planning schemes
to depose him from the power which he seemed no longer to have the
energy to wield; or, at least, Alexander was continually suspecting
that such plans were formed, and he was kept in a continual state of
uneasiness and anxiety in discovering and punishing them.
At last a conspiracy occurred in which Philotas was implicated.
Alexander was informed one day that a plot had been formed to depose
and destroy him; that Philotas had been made acquainted with it by a
friend of Alexander's, in order that he might make it known to the
king; that he had neglected to do so, thus making it probable that he
was himself in league with the conspirators. Alexander was informed
that the leader and originator of this conspiracy was one of his
generals named Dymnus.
He immediately sent an officer to Dymnus to summon him into his
presence. Dymnus appeared to be struck with consternation at this
summons. Instead of obeying it, he drew his sword, thrust it into his
own heart, and fell dead upon the ground.
Alexander then sent for Philotas, and asked him if it was indeed true
that he had been informed of this conspiracy, and had neglected to
make it known.
Philotas replied that he had been told that such a plot was formed,
but that he did not believe it; that such stories were continually
invented by the malice of evil-disposed men, and that he had not
considered the report which came to his ears as worthy of any
attention. He was, however, now convinced, by the terror which Dymnus
had manifested, and by his suicide, that all was true, and he asked
Alexander's pardon for not having taken immediate measures for
communicating promptly the information he had received.
Alexander gave him his hand, said that he was convinced that he was
innocent, and had acted as he did from disbelief in the existence of
the conspiracy, and not from any guilty participation in it. So
Philotas went away to his tent.
Alexander, however, did not drop the subject here. He called a council
of his ablest and best friends and advisers, consisting of the
principal officers of his army, and laid the facts before them. They
came to a different conclusion from his in respect to the guilt of
Philotas. They believed him implicated in the crime, and demanded his
trial. Trial in such a case, in those days, meant putting the accused
to the torture, with a view of forcing him to confess his guilt.
Alexander yielded to this proposal. Perhaps he had secretly instigated
it. The advisers of kings and conquerors, in such circumstances as
this, generally have the sagacity to discover what advice will be
agreeable. At all events, Alexander followed the advice of his
counselors, and made arrangements for arresting Philotas on that very
evening.
These circumstances occurred at a time when the army was preparing for
a march, the various generals lodging in tents pitched for the
purpose. Alexander placed extra guards in various parts of the
encampment, as if to impress the whole army with a sense of the
importance and solemnity of the occasion. He then sent officers to the
tent of Philotas, late at night, to arrest him. The officers found
their unhappy victim asleep. They awoke him, and made known their
errand. Philotas arose, and obeyed the summons, dejected and
distressed, aware, apparently, that his destruction was impending.
The next morning Alexander called together a large assembly,
consisting of the principal and most important portions of the army,
to the number of several thousands. They came together with an air of
impressive solemnity, expecting, from the preliminary preparations,
that business of very solemn moment was to come before them, though
they knew not what it was.
These impressions of awe and solemnity were very much increased by the
spectacle which first met the eyes of the assembly after they were
convened. This spectacle was that of the dead body of Dymnus, bloody
and ghastly, which Alexander ordered to be brought in and exposed to
view. The death of Dymnus had been kept a secret, so that the
appearance of his body was an unexpected as well as a shocking sight.
When the first feeling of surprise and wonder had a little subsided,
Alexander explained to the assembly the nature of the conspiracy, and
the circumstances connected with the self-execution of one of the
guilty participators in it. The spectacle of the body, and the
statement of the king, produced a scene of great and universal
excitement in the assembly, and this excitement was raised to the
highest pitch by the announcement which Alexander now made, that he
had reason to believe that Philotas and his father Parmenio, officers
who had enjoyed his highest favor, and in whom he had placed the most
unbounded confidence, were the authors and originators of the whole
design.
He then ordered Philotas to be brought in. He came guarded as a
criminal, with his hands tied behind him, and his head covered with a
coarse cloth. He was in a state of great dejection and despondency. It
is true that he was brought forward for trial, but he knew very well
that trial meant torture, and that there was no hope for him as to the
result. Alexander said that he would leave the accused to be dealt
with by the assembly, and withdrew.
The authorities of the army, who now had the proud and domineering
spirit which had so long excited their hatred and envy completely in
their power, listened for a time to what Philotas had to say in his
own justification. He showed that there was no evidence whatever
against him, and appealed to their sense of justice not to condemn him
on mere vague surmises. In reply, they decided to put him to the
torture. There was no evidence, it was true, and they wished,
accordingly, to supply its place by his own confession, extorted by
pain. Of course, his most inveterate and implacable enemies were
appointed to conduct the operation. They put Philotas upon the rack.
The rack is an instrument of wheels and pulleys, into which the victim
is placed, and his limbs and tendons are stretched by it in a manner
which produces most excruciating pain.
Philotas bore the beginning of his torture with great resolution and
fortitude. He made no complaint, he uttered no cry: this was the
signal to his executioners to increase the tension and the agony. Of
course, in such a trial as this, there was no question of guilt or
innocence at issue. The only question was, which could stand out the
longest, his enemies in witnessing horrible sufferings, or he himself
in enduring them. In this contest the unhappy Philotas was vanquished
at last. He begged them to release him from the rack, saying he would
confess whatever they required, on condition of being allowed to die
in peace.
They accordingly released him, and, in answer to their questions, he
confessed that he himself and his father were involved in the plot. He
said yes to various other inquiries relating to the circumstances of
the conspiracy, and to the guilt of various individuals whom those
that managed the torture had suspected, or who, at any rate, they
wished to have condemned. The answers of Philotas to all these
questions were written down, and he was himself sentenced to be
stoned. The sentence was put in execution without any delay.
During all this time Parmenio was in Media, in command of a very
important part of Alexander's army. It was decreed that he must die;
but some careful management was necessary to secure his execution
while he was at so great a distance, and at the head of so great a
force. The affair had to be conducted with great secrecy as well as
dispatch. The plan adopted was as follows:
There was a certain man, named Polydamas, who was regarded as
Parmenio's particular friend. Polydamas was commissioned to go to
Media and see the execution performed. He was selected, because it
was supposed that if any enemy, or a stranger, had been sent, Parmenio
would have received him with suspicion or at least with caution, and
kept himself on his guard. They gave Polydamas several letters to
Parmenio, as if from his friends, and to one of them they attached the
seal of his son Philotas, the more completely to deceive the unhappy
father. Polydamas was eleven days on his journey into Media. He had
letters to Cleander, the governor of the province of Media, which
contained the king's warrant for Parmenio's execution. He arrived at
the house of Cleander in the night. He delivered his letters, and they
together concerted the plans for carrying the execution into effect.
After having taken all the precautions necessary, Polydamas went, with
many attendants accompanying him, to the quarters of Parmenio. The old
general, for he was at this time eighty years of age, was walking in
his grounds. Polydamas being admitted, ran up to accost him, with
great appearance of cordiality and friendship. He delivered to him his
letters, and Parmenio read them. He seemed much pleased with their
contents, especially with the one which had been written in the name
of his son. He had no means of detecting the imposture, for it was
very customary in those days for letters to be written by secretaries,
and to be authenticated solely by the seal.
Parmenio was much pleased to get good tidings from Alexander, and from
his son, and began conversing upon the contents of the letters, when
Polydamas, watching his opportunity, drew forth a dagger which he had
concealed upon his person, and plunged it into Parmenio's side. He
drew it forth immediately and struck it at his throat. The attendants
rushed on at this signal, and thrust their swords again and again into
the fallen body until it ceased to breathe.
The death of Parmenio and of his son in this violent manner, when,
too, there was so little evidence of their guilt, made a very general
and a very unfavorable impression in respect to Alexander; and not
long afterward another case occurred, in some respects still more
painful, as it evinced still more strikingly that the mind of
Alexander, which had been in his earlier days filled with such noble
and lofty sentiments of justice and generosity, was gradually getting
to be under the supreme dominion of selfish and ungovernable passions:
it was the case of Clitus.
Clitus was a very celebrated general of Alexander's army, and a great
favorite with the king. He had, in fact, on one occasion saved
Alexander's life. It was at the battle of the Granicus. Alexander had
exposed himself in the thickest of the combat, and was surrounded by
enemies. The sword of one of them was actually raised over his head,
and would have fallen and killed him on the spot, if Clitus had not
rushed forward and cut the man down just at the instant when he was
about striking the blow. Such acts of fidelity and courage as this had
given Alexander great confidence in Clitus. It happened, shortly after
the death of Parmenio, that the governor of one of the most important
provinces of the empire resigned his post. Alexander appointed Clitus
to fill the vacancy.
The evening before his departure to take charge of his government,
Alexander invited him to a banquet, made, partly at least, in honor of
his elevation. Clitus and the other guests assembled. They drank wine,
as usual, with great freedom. Alexander became excited, and began to
speak, as he was now often accustomed to do, boastingly of his own
exploits, and to disparage those of his father Philip in comparison.
Men half intoxicated are very prone to quarrel, and not the less so
for being excellent friends when sober. Clitus had served under
Philip. He was now an old man, and, like other old men, was very
tenacious of the glory that belonged to the exploits of his youth. He
was very restless and uneasy at hearing Alexander claim for himself
the merit of his father Philip's victory at Chaeronea, and began to
murmur something to those who sat next to him about kings claiming and
getting a great deal of glory which did not belong to them.
Alexander asked what it was that Clitus said. No one replied. Clitus,
however, went on talking, speaking more and more audibly as he became
gradually more and more excited. He praised the character of Philip,
and applauded his military exploits, saying that they were far
superior to any of the enterprises of _their_ day. The different
parties at the table took up the subject, and began to dispute, the
old men taking the part of Philip and former days, and the younger
defending Alexander. Clitus became more and more excited. He praised
Parmenio, who had been Philip's greatest general, and began to impugn
the justice of his late condemnation and death.
Alexander retorted and Clitus, rising from his seat, and losing now
all self-command, reproached him with severe and bitter words. "Here
is the hand," said he, extending his arm, "that saved your life at the
battle of the Granicus, and the fate of Parmenio shows what sort of
gratitude and what rewards faithful servants are to expect at your
hands." Alexander, burning with rage, commanded Clitus to leave the
table. Clitus obeyed, saying, as he moved away, "He is right not to
bear freeborn men at his table who can only tell him the truth. He is
right. It is fitting for him to pass his life among barbarians and
slaves, who will be proud to pay their adoration to his Persian girdle
and his splendid robe."
Alexander seized a javelin to hurl at Clitus's head. The guests rose
in confusion, and with many outcries pressed around him. Some seized
Alexander's arm, some began to hurry Clitus out of the room, and some
were engaged in loudly criminating and threatening each other. They
got Clitus out of the apartment, but as soon as he was in the hall he
broke away from them, returned by another door, and began to renew his
insults to Alexander. The king hurled his javelin and struck Clitus
down, saying, at the same time, "Go, then, and join Philip and
Parmenio." The company rushed to the rescue of the unhappy man, but
it was too late. He died almost immediately.
Alexander, as soon as he came to himself was overwhelmed with remorse
and despair. He mourned bitterly, for many days, the death of his
long-tried and faithful friend, and execrated the intoxication and
passion, on his part, which had caused it. He could not, however,
restore Clitus to life, nor remove from his own character the
indelible stains which such deeds necessarily fixed upon it.