XLIX. THE TRIUMPHS OF PHILIP…

XLIX. THE TRIUMPHS OF PHILIP

DEMOSTHENES, THE ORATOR

The trite proverb that “the pen is mightier than the sword,” like all other proverbs, expresses hardly half the truth. Never was there a more definite combat between the two sharp instruments than in the history of Greece at this period, for that history becomes hardly more than a pitched battle between a splendid organiser of armies and a splendid captain of arguments, and the parallel is the closer inasmuch as Demosthenes, though commonly thought of as an orator, was much more distinctly a writer; for he was decidedly inferior as a speaker to his great rival Æschines, and his orations are chiefly valuable for their logic and their cautious reasoning. Unlike the perishable glories of the art of oratory pure and simple, the art of Demosthenes has come down to us in considerable completeness, and forms a text-book whose eloquence is little appreciated by the students that reluctantly unravel its close-knit fabric.

As this duel between the king of Macedonia and the manufacturer’s son of Athens was so nearly a combat of equals, it will be well to cast a brief look at the biography of Demosthenes, since we have given so much attention to the formation of Philip’s character.[a]

The father of this great orator was an Athenian by birth, and exercised the trade of an armourer, by which he acquired considerable wealth. He married the daughter of one Gylon who had settled upon the borders of the Euxine Sea and contracted an alliance with a rich heiress of the country.[15] At the age of seven Demosthenes was deprived of his father, who left him a fortune which entitled him to rank with the wealthiest citizens. Though guardians had been appointed to manage his estate and direct his education, they seem to have dilapidated the one, and neglected the other. Left at an early age entirely to himself, he launched out into expenses with all the extravagance and vanity of youth, acted as choregus or president of theatrical entertainments, and equipped a ship of war for the service of the republic. He spent the first part of his life without any fixed purpose or aim, indulging in such a state of indolence and effeminacy, as to have his name stigmatised by a term of reproach [Batalos]. But the seeds of genius, being either allowed to shoot up in wild luxuriance or to lie dormant through neglect, were soon to spring up with amazing vigour. He determined thenceforth to devote himself wholly to the study of eloquence. At that time learning of all kinds, but particularly philosophy and the art of rhetoric, was cultivated with great eagerness by the Athenian youth. Plato had established his school in the Academy, and was attended by a vast concourse. Demosthenes attended it with great assiduity, as well as that of Isæus the rhetorician. After these preparatory studies, he tried his strength against his guardians, whom he obliged to refund a part of his property. Emboldened by this success, he mounted the tribunal to harangue the people upon the state of affairs, but was heard with very little attention, and no signs of approbation. Not discouraged by this unfavourable reception, he made a second attempt and was equally unsuccessful.

As he retired, exceedingly depressed by his ill-success, and determined in his mind to relinquish a pursuit for which nature seemed to have rendered him unfit, by denying him the free use of the organs of speech, and a sufficient quantity of breath to articulate distinctly a sentence of moderate length, he was met by one of his friends, a comedian, who exhorted him to conquer the natural and acquired defects under which he laboured. He instantly set about correcting, with the greatest perseverance and most extraordinary means, his rapid and inarticulate pronunciation, ungraceful and awkward gestures in declaiming, and several natural defects under which he laboured.[c]

The anecdotes of Demosthenes’ struggle with his defects are remembered by many people to whom the very name of King Philip is obscure. These anecdotes rest upon the orator’s own authority. The reader need hardly be reminded of the hours he spent talking with his mouth full of pebbles, shouting against the roar of the stormy ocean, practising his gestures before a mirror, expanding his lungs by running and by declaiming as he climbed the steep hills of which Greece is made, shaving half his head to compel himself to keep indoors at his studies, and shutting himself up for months at a time in an underground room where he copied all Thucydides eight times, and polished his own phrases to incandescence.

Thus prepared, he undertook a losing battle in defence of that system of municipal isolation and jealousy which he thought of as freedom, but which had brought on Greece innumerable crimes and sorrows and kept the little peninsula always under the shadow of complete disaster before a larger foe. In a sense, Demosthenes may be compared with the advocates of States’ Rights in the United States before the Civil War, except that the Americans never dreamed of carrying their theories to such an extent. To put the two instances on a par, it would be necessary to imagine the Southerners of America demanding not merely that the states have no federation whatsoever, but that even the smallest town of each state should go its own petty way.

ÆSCHINES, THE RIVAL OF DEMOSTHENES

Heroic as the figure of Demosthenes is in many respects one must not forget to do justice to the opposition he met, not only from Macedonia but from within his own city. Posterity is likely to generalise too vigorously, and Æschines has suffered more than his due from the fact that he happened to be the opponent of Demosthenes. It is customary to think of Æschines as a traitor, a hypocrite, and the paid attorney of Philip in Athens. Yet it might be well to remember that if his advice had been taken and the Macedonians treated with welcome instead of warfare as preached by Demosthenes, the result would have been exactly the same except that much bloodshed would have been saved and a loathsome amount of intrigue and villainy avoided. When Demosthenes is praised for his determination and persistence in his one idea, Æschines must be praised for the same to the same degree. When sympathy is felt for Demosthenes in the enmity he met, it must be remembered that Æschines suffered exile and suffered it with dignity. Æschines was never proved guilty of accepting money from Macedonia, while Demosthenes gloated over the poverty of Æschines and boasted of his own riches. On the other hand it is known that Demosthenes accepted money from Persia. And, if one may be permitted to distinguish between degrees of guilt in bribery, one might feel that Persian money was far dirtier for a Grecian to handle than the semi-Grecian gold of Macedonia, coming from the hand of a king whose great ambition was to organise Greece into a federated monarchy and lead her against Persia.

Æschines claimed to have been of distinguished blood, and, while Demosthenes declared him to be of the lowest possible origin, and that dishonest, he certainly represented the aristocratic party. His friendship for Philip’s cause cannot be imputed to a cowardly desire for peace at any price, since he proved himself a brave soldier, while Demosthenes threw away his shield and fled from the very battle-ground of Chæronea to which his eloquence had summoned the Greeks. Æschines was a writer of great skill and the three of his orations still extant are rated almost as high as those of Demosthenes. Æschines seems to have had a far better voice and presence than the effeminate student whom posterity thinks of as a majestic thunderer. The good and ill in the character of the latter have been nowhere more briskly summarised than by Prévost-Paradol[d]:

THE UNPOPULARITY OF DEMOSTHENES

“Demosthenes was never entirely popular. He had nothing grand in him but his eloquence and will. Dignity of character was wanting. Is it to be said that the highest virtues were necessary in Athens for the popularity of a political man? By no means. Virtue was a title, but the contrary of virtue had also its influence when it was joined to elegance. For Demosthenes, who owed a ridiculous surname [Batalos] to hidden debauches, and who devoted the rest of his youth to an ungrateful work, had neither the graces of vice nor the dignity of virtue. He was neither Aristides nor Alcibiades. Nor had he the easy levity of Cleon and many other demagogues. He was a man of anxiety and toil. He had not the good-natured and happy insolence of a popular orator, who plays with the people and himself, and enlivens the tribune: neither did he possess that which was the contrary, that is to say, natural dignity, the majestic calm which made Pericles the organ of divine reason, a kind of medium between Athens and its destiny, between the people and the spirit of the republic. Demosthenes was violent and laborious. His discourses smelt of oil, but smoothness was absent from them. It was premeditated vehemence, the result of art as much as of inspiration. In short, the people had seen this orator raise himself slowly from mediocrity, and buy his power with long night studies; he inoculated himself patiently with genius. They had hissed at Demosthenes and had seen him come back stronger; they had hissed again and he had returned all-powerful. The mob is wrong in rarely pardoning such marvels. The mob, with eternal injustice, more willingly gives its approbation to the idleness of genius than to the fertile preparation of work; it adds its partiality in favour of destiny, and the glory which gives itself is more brilliant in its eyes than that which must be conquered. The conduct of Demosthenes, as haughty as his eloquence, would often have irritated a less suspicious democracy. This energetic spirit, nourished by contests, which struggle and effort had alone rendered fruitful, never distrusted its natural impetuosity. Demosthenes applied to political difficulties the same violence he had so happily used against his natural difficulties; he treated his adversaries like the obstacles which had prevented his becoming eloquent. One day an accomplice of Philip, Antiphon, arraigned before the assembly of the people, is sent away acquitted. Demosthenes snatched away the benefit of the popular sentence, arraigned him before the Areopagus, and never rested until he was condemned to death. When has a democracy patiently allowed itself to be thus defended against itself and its judgments broken?

“Demosthenes was of the aristocracy; the aristocracy of money, it is true, but it is sufficient to read Aristophanes to feel that this aristocracy was the heaviest to bear, when one had the misfortune to belong to it. Demosthenes was rich, the son of riches, and he boasted about it with perilous intemperance. In the Discourse on the Crown he opposed his fortune to the poverty of Æschines, with a disgust and hardness contrary to the Athenian spirit.

“Add to so many causes of unpopularity, the natural inconsistency of the people, the sacrifices Demosthenes claimed from them, the dangers and the reverses of his politics, and one will be surprised at the lasting power of this great man. The explanation thereof is entirely in the strength and clearness of his wonderful genius. Every day he showed his prodigious eloquence, which consisted in raising his audience above its ordinary intelligence, communicated for a moment to the crowd the generosity of a great soul and the divination of a superior mind. He made the people capable of feeling what was noble in politics, and understanding what was necessary. He showed them in this policy the natural result of the Athenian destiny. He identified his work with the work of that superior power against which all complaint is useless and all anger ridiculous, the work of Necessity.”

But perhaps the most satisfactory claim Demosthenes has on the memory of all time is to be found in that inevitable beauty which surrounds a losing battle fought to the end. Professor Jebb[e] has said, “As a statesman, Demosthenes needs no epitaph but his own words in the speech On the Crown: ‘I say that, if the event had been manifest to the whole world beforehand, not even then ought Athens to have forsaken this course, if Athens had any regard for her glory, or for her past, or for the ages to come.’”

PHILIP’S BETTER SIDE

But finally, while we are endeavouring to be judicial, it is appropriate to think of the better side of King Philip. He, too, had obstacles to overcome, and he suffers from the pathetic consequences of success; for we forgive the weaknesses and vices and the underhand measures of the one who fails, but we are prone to impute the success of the man who succeeds, purely to the evil of his ways. Once more we may quote Prévost-Paradol[d]:

“Philip had closely observed Greece, with its incurable and daily augmenting weaknesses, and he had foreseen, as a magnificent future, the reunion of these powerless and divided people, under his sovereign authority. He had understood that the Grecian empire, defended by mercenaries and void of citizens, belonged to those who could put in the ranks the greatest number of trained soldiers, and that patriotism had no longer any part to play in this supreme struggle. The instinct and passion of craftiness, patience, the art of bribery, made him eminently suitable for those corrupting and lying manœuvres, which divide the enemy and prepare victory. And to these precious gifts were added an unrestrained ambition, sufficiently strong so as not to draw back in the face of any danger, sufficiently enlightened only to seek opportune contests, and to become great only through success. It is because Philip always saw ahead of his actions, and hoped for great things, that they were always appropriate and useful, and that he did them with such terrible activity. He gave himself up entirely to intrigues, to battles, to the formation of his army, to the subjection of Greece, and to vast hopes.

“It is with a sort of terror that Demosthenes saw and described him as being consumed by desires always greater, and carried away by a hidden strength from enterprise to enterprise. ‘I saw Philip with one eye put out, one shoulder broken, a crippled hand, a wounded thigh, abandon to fortune without ceremony or hesitation all that it wished to take of his body, provided the rest remained powerful and honoured.’ Who does not see that his unchecked activity followed a more elevated aim than the submission of Greece and that this great man, in a hurry to have finished, was afraid of seeing life suddenly fail his ambition? What could Greece do to such a genius, sustained by such a character?”

Professor Bury[f] is even more direct in Philip’s praise and in blame for Demosthenes: “To none of the world’s great rulers has history done less justice than to Philip. The overwhelming greatness of a son greater than himself has overshadowed him and drawn men’s eyes to achievements which could never have been wrought but for Philip’s life of toil.” He also notes that we have no information of Philip’s stupendous conquest of Thrace, and that what we know of him at all has come through Athenian mouths and chiefly from “the malignant eloquence” of Demosthenes, on which account the Greek history of Philip’s time has often been regarded “as little more than a biography of Demosthenes,” whose policy Professor Bury finds retrograde and retarding, unrelieved by any new ideas. The time needed an Athenian statesman of adaptability and judgment. In the long look, Æschines was more nearly that man than Demosthenes.[a]

THE SACRED WAR

[Sidenote: [359-351 B.C.]]

Alexander, the tyrant of Pheræ, was assassinated in 359 by his brothers-in-law, at the instigation of his wife, Thebe, she having taken care to deprive him of his sword while he slept and to remove the dogs which guarded the entrance to his chamber. She then introduced her brothers, and on their hesitating to deal the blow she threatened to awake her husband. The murderers assumed Alexander’s tyranny, and one of them, Lycophron, was on the throne when Philip was summoned to oppose him by the powerful family of the Aleuadæ of Larissa, who, like the Macedonian kings, pretended to descend from Hercules. Philip was then besieging Methone, the only city of the Thermaic Gulf which still formed part of the Athenian federation. After having received a wound which cost him one eye, he took the city, razed it to the ground, and seized the occasion which then offered to enter Thessaly. Lycophron having made an alliance with the Phocians, Phayllus, brother of Onomarchus, came to his aid with seven thousand men. Philip defeated Phayllus, but was himself defeated by Onomarchus, who forced him back into Macedonia while he, Onomarchus, returned to Bœotia to gain possession of Coronea. But Philip reappeared shortly with a new army: his forces united to those of Thessaly amounted to twenty thousand men and three thousand horses. Against the Phocians, who had stolen the treasure of the temple of Delphi, he appeared as an avenger of Apollo, and all his soldiers wore crowns made of laurel leaves from Tempe.

The encounter took place near the Gulf of Pagasæ, where was stationed an Athenian fleet. Philip obtained a complete victory, due principally to the Thessalian cavalry. The Phocians lost six thousand men; of those made prisoners three thousand were cast into the sea as being sacrilegious, but many of them were able to reach the Athenian vessels by swimming. Onomarchus had been killed in battle, and his body crucified. Lycophron obtained by bribes permission to retire to the Peloponnesus with his troops, delivering the city of Pheræ over to Philip, who seized the port of Pagasæ and the fleet constructed by Alexander. Philip caused to be paid over to him by his Thessalian allies, as war indemnity, a large part of the revenues of the country. He wished to penetrate farther, and under pretext of entering Phocia marched towards Thermopylæ in order to take up his position on a spot that was the key to all Greece. But an Athenian corps commanded by Diophantus occupied the pass, and Philip was obliged to turn back (352).

THE FIRST PHILIPPIC

[Sidenote: [351 B.C.]]

It was at this epoch that Demosthenes pronounced, before the people of Athens, his first Philippic. So absorbed had been the Greeks by their private rivalries that they had paid no heed to the rapid and increasing progress made by the Macedonian monarchy. One man alone saw the danger; he had no other arms than his patriotism and his eloquence, but with these he fought valiantly, and though he could not preserve to his country liberty, he at least preserved its honour. The unequal conflict which was about to take place between Demosthenes and Philip was not alone a duel between the ablest of politicians and the greatest of orators; it was a duel to the death between two principles, monarchism and republicanism. These two principles had once before, in the reign of Xerxes, been arrayed against each other; but at that time the Greeks were able to forget their private differences in the common danger, and to superiority of numbers they had opposed, not alone heroism, which does not always suffice to conquer, but military tactics. Now conditions were different; Philip had borrowed of the Greeks their tactics, which he brought to perfection, and he managed to turn to his own advantage the condition of the land, now more than ever divided. It was never again to have that unity of military command so necessary in the face of the enemy. The hegemony of Sparta which Athens nobly accepted in the Median War was forever destroyed, and Sparta, which struggled vainly under its double burden, Megalopolis and Messene, took no notice of the progress of Philip. Thebes, which had broken Sparta’s power, was not strong enough to take its place, and foolishly inviting the approach of the enemy, repented too late and died in expiation of its fault. Athens remained, but how fallen from its former condition of active energy. In vain Demosthenes tried to awaken it; it asked but to sleep the long sleep of worn-out races. “When, Athenians,” cried the great demagogue, “will you rouse and do your duty? What new event, what pressing need, do you await? What contingency more urgent for free men than the danger of dishonour? Will you always assemble in the public squares to ask each other, ‘Well, what is new?’ What can be newer than a man from Macedonia making himself victor of Athens and master over all Greece? Is Philip dead? No, he is only ailing. But what matter to you if he be sick or dead; if heaven were to deliver you from him to-day, to-morrow you would cause another Philip to arise, for his victorious advance is far less a result of his own power than of your inertia.”

The war of the allies had exhausted Athens’ principal source of revenue, and, as frequently happens in the case of spendthrifts who are obliged to economise, the city preferred to do without necessities rather than deny itself the superfluous; the sovereign people refused absolutely to curtail its civil list. Pericles in instituting the public funds could not foresee that the day was to come when the Athenians would prefer amusement to the preservation of the nation’s safety. “Why be surprised at Philip’s success,” asks Demosthenes, “when all the sums formerly allotted to defray the cost of war are now squandered in useless festivity, a decree, furthermore, menacing with pain of death any one who undertakes to restore them to their former purpose?” He reverts frequently to this incurable propensity of Athenian dilettantism, citing the extreme punctuality with which public feast days were observed as against the tardiness of the administration in all that concerned marine matters, or war. “Tell me why your pompous feasts of Panathenæa or of Dionysia, which cost more than the armament of a fleet, are always celebrated on the day set, while your fleets, as at Methone, Pagasæ, and Potidæa, arrive too late? In the observance of your feasts all has been regulated by law; each of you knows in advance the choregus, the gymnasiarch of his tribe; he knows just what he is to receive and the exact moment when he is to receive it; nothing is uncertain, unexpected, neglected. In time of war, with all the preparations war demands, there is no order, no foresight, nothing but confusion on all sides. At the first alarm trierarchs are named, exchanges are made, subsidies are demanded. Then, to the ships are summoned first the metœci, then the freedmen, then the citizens, then--but pending all this work of preparation, that which our fleet should save has perished. All this, citizens, is doubtless very disagreeable to hear, but if in leaving out of a discourse all that offends we exclude the matter itself, what need to speak save for the mere pleasure of your ears?” And this was virtually true; the people listened to Demosthenes because he spoke well, then went to hear the orators of the opposite side, and in the enjoyment of this fine oratorical display were as royally amused as though they had visited the theatre or the Odeum.

PHILIP AND ATHENS

[Sidenote: [351-349 B.C.]]

Philip endeavoured by apparent inaction to make the Athenians forget the attack on Thermopylæ by which he justified Demosthenes’ fears. But his time was not wasted; he employed it in making partisans, even drawing around himself certain of the pillagers of the Delphic temple. He received their money in trust, thus attaching them firmly to his interests. He had established or was maintaining tyrants in the island of Eubœa, two of whom, feigning treachery to him, called the Athenians to their aid, only to betray them as soon as they had responded to this appeal; it was with difficulty that Phocion could save the Athenian army from destruction. To obtain possession of Amphipolis, Philip had caused the Olynthians to withdraw from the Athenian alliance by ceding to them Potidæa; they, however, regretted this step as soon as they saw their independence menaced. Philip accused them of having given refuge to Macedonian conspirators, and took successively several cities of the Olynthian federation, Apollonia, Stagira, Mecyberna, Torone. The Olynthians asked help of Athens, and Demosthenes, in support of their appeal, delivered three of his most celebrated discourses called the Olynthiacs. The first showed the Athenians the danger they were in, since if Philip were to become master of Olynthus he would not fail to fall upon Athens with all his forces. He then indicated the remedy: a better use of public moneys. Unable to attack the Theorica directly, he evaded the difficulty by demanding a reform in the laws governing its use.

“Be not surprised, Athenians, if I speak contrary to the opinion of the majority. Establish nomothetes, not to create new laws, but to abolish such as work you harm, and these I will designate clearly. They are the laws regulating the theatre and military service. One set sacrifices to the idlers of the town the funds set apart for war, the other assures impunity to cowards. We stood formerly without a rival, rulers at home, arbiters in foreign lands. Sparta was crushed, Thebes occupied abroad, confronting us was no power that could dispute our empire. What have we done? We have lost our provinces, and uselessly dissipated fifteen hundred talents. War restored to us our allies; in time of peace wise counsellors caused us to lose them, and our enemy has waxed great and powerful. Can any one deny that it is through us that Philip has risen? Undoubtedly you will reply, things on the outside are not favourable to us, but within, what marvels have been accomplished! Name them! Walls restored, roads repaired, fountains rebuilt, and a hundred other trifling matters. Look upon the authors of these splendid works; formerly poor, they are now rich, and in proportion to the rise in their fortunes has been the decline of the state’s. The power to pardon is in their hands, nothing is accomplished save through them; and you, Athenians, suffer everything to be taken from you, allies as well as money. Great in numbers, you are treated like menials, happy when your masters throw you your daily pittance, the price of admission to the theatre. The shame of such a condition! They give you your own, and you render thanks as though for a mercy shown you! I know well that it may cost me dear to place your disgrace so clearly before you; but dearer still will it cost those who have brought that disgrace about.”

[Sidenote: [349-347 B.C.]]

Only in a democracy could a ruler be found who would accept reproaches so severe. The Athenians knew that Demosthenes was right, but to give up the theatre--that was very hard; to reform the administration of the finances--that would take a long, long time! The most urgent need was attended to first: two armies were sent to succour the Olynthians, who were struggling bravely in their own defence. But these armies were formed of mercenaries, commanded by Chares, an indifferent general who was in the pay of every land. The presence of such troops had for effect to create disturbance among the besieged without rendering them the slightest aid. It was finally decided to send an army of citizens; but it was already too late; two traitors had delivered over the city to the enemy (347).

There was stupefaction in Athens and in all Greece when it was learned that Philip had destroyed Olynthus and sold its inhabitants. But pity was of short duration: “Each people,” says Demosthenes, “seemed to look upon as gained the time spent by Philip in destroying another.” Nevertheless the possession of Chalcidice made him master over the Ægean Sea and brought him nearer to the Thracian Chersonesus, ceded to the Athenians by the king, Cersobleptes. His fleet, already greater than that of Athens, threatened Imbros, Scyros, Lemnos, and Eubœa, made a descent on Attica, carried off the Paralian galley, and tore down the trophies at Marathon. The Athenians, tired of carrying on the struggle alone, tried to form against Philip a general alliance, but his liberality had created for him a numerous faction. Even at Athens little was spoken of but the good intentions of the king. Among those who upheld him were many who had been bought over, notably the orator Demades, possibly also Æschines; but some of the dupes were honest, among them the rhetorician Isocrates, who was dazzled by Philip’s success, and many resembling Phocion, who always looked on the dark side, preaching peace because he believed victory impossible, although he was the best general Athens possessed. “Have military greatness,” he advised the Athenians, “or make those who have it your friends.” When Demosthenes saw this man arise to reply to him, “There,” he said, “is the axe of my discourse.”

[Sidenote: [352-346 B.C.]]

The Sacred War still continued. After the death of Onomarchus his brother Phayllus succeeded him in command. With the aid of the Delphic treasure he got together a large army of mercenaries. The Spartans furnished him one thousand men, the Achæans two thousand, the Athenians five thousand and four hundred horses; thus Sparta and Athens participated indirectly in the pillage, Phayllus paying for the maintenance of the troops sent to him. He invaded Bœotia and took the greater part of the cities of Epicnemidian Locris; but falling ill he died and his place was taken by Phalæcus, son of Onomarchus. The command of this army of bandits came to be a sort of hereditary royalty. Phalæcus being still very young a tutor was given him in the person of Mnaseas, who was shortly after killed. Phalæcus continued the war; but ten thousand talents, the last of the treasure of Delphi, had been expended and the Phocians were clamouring for a reckoning. The Thebans were also at the end of their resources, in spite of the three hundred talents they had obtained from the king of Persia. They called on Philip for assistance, but he not being willing to risk again finding the pass of Thermopylæ, guarded by Athenians, they were obliged to drop out of the contest. The Athenians were in reality glad to discontinue a war which had lasted ten years without bringing them any profit, and desired a reconciliation with the Thebans.

It even seemed possible to establish a general peace among the Grecian states, for all were equally tired of the long and fruitless war. Philip indirectly gave the Athenians to understand that he was disposed to treat for peace. It being difficult to divine their motive these advances were looked upon as suspicious. Still at Philocrates’ proposal it was voted to send off ten ambassadors, among whom was Philocrates himself, the rival orators, Demosthenes and Æschines, and the actor Aristodemus. Æschines later reproached Demosthenes with having failed in eloquence before Philip, a fact which had in it nothing extraordinary, since only Alcibiades or Lysander could compete with Philip in guile, and Demosthenes was used to speaking his thoughts openly to a free people. He was at least, contrary to many of his colleagues, proof against fine speeches, banquets, and gifts.

A TREATY OF PEACE

The ambassadors returned without having obtained anything from Philip save a vague promise to respect the Athenian possessions in Thrace. Three Macedonian envoys followed them; the terms of a treaty of peace were decided upon and another embassy, similar probably to the first, was charged to obtain Philip’s signature. Contrary to the advice of Demosthenes, this embassy travelled by short stages on land, and waited a month for Philip at Pella, giving him time to wage war upon the king of Thrace, Athens’ ally. He at last returned and persuaded the ambassadors to accompany him as far as Pheræ, under the pretext of desiring their mediation between two Thessalian cities. At Pheræ he signed the treaty but refused to inscribe upon it the name of the Phocians. The ambassadors having left he marched rapidly upon Thermopylæ and took possession of the pass which this time he found unguarded. This had been the aim of all his hesitation and delay. The Athenians were outwitted, and their ambassadors either dupes or accomplices; later Demosthenes even accused Æschines of having sold himself to Philip.

Phalæcus’ treason is still more apparent. Before peace was concluded he had refused the assistance first of the Athenians, then of the Spartans, who offered to occupy the fortresses. The Phocians were left to their fate. Philip presented himself and the fortresses were delivered up to him on the sole condition that Phalæcus be permitted to retire to Peloponnesus with ten thousand mercenaries. In such fashion this chieftain of a robber band, finding nothing more to steal at Delphi, abandoned without a struggle his country to the enemy. The Phocians were at the mercy of Philip who delivered them over to the hatred of the Thebans.[b]

The king occupied the country without striking a blow and then summoned the Amphictyonic council to Delphi, that he might hold a trial of the Phocians and their allies and re-order the affairs of the national sanctuary.

PUNISHMENT OF THE PHOCIANS

[Sidenote: [346 B.C.]]

The sentence was sufficiently severe. The court, attended only by representatives of the peoples which, like the Thebans, Locrians, and Thessalians, had taken part in the Sacred War, followed the dictates of revenge and passion. The Phocians, as being accursed, were expelled from the Amphictyonic league and the two votes which they had hitherto possessed were transferred to Philip and his successors; all the towns, twenty-two in number, were (with the exception of Abæ) to be destroyed and the inhabitants to settle in villages of not more than fifty inhabitants. The fugitives were to be accursed and outlawed wherever they were encountered; those who remained were to pay Apollo a yearly tribute of fifty talents [£10,000 or $50,000] and to be despoiled of their arms and horses until the stolen treasure should be made up. Philip was in future to preside at the Pythian games. The desire for vengeance went so far that the Œtæans even made a suggestion that the whole male population, exclusive of the boys and the old men, should be thrown down from the rock as temple robbers: an inhuman proposal which Philip rejected with anger. In contrast with such unbridled fury the Macedonian king, who had little mercy for his own enemies, appeared as a mild ruler.

The execution of the sentence was undertaken with relentless severity; ancient towns like Hyampolis, Panopeus, Daulis, Lilæa disappear henceforth from history; their former inhabitants either wandered homeless in foreign countries or lived out their days in mournful servitude. Many joined the bands of mercenaries which Timoleon the Corinthian conducted to Syracuse in the following year; others passed over with Phalæcus into Crete, where some time afterwards the leader met his death at the siege of Cydonia. All the Phocians who had taken part in the robbing of the temple met with a fearful end, but the lot of those who remained behind was not more enviable. Some years later, when Demosthenes went to Delphi, he beheld a picture of misery: “houses torn down, walls in ruins, the country emptied of men of vigorous age, and a few mourning women and children and old people; such wretchedness as admits of no description in words.”

THE ATTITUDE OF THE ATHENIANS

The tidings of these events fell on the betrayed Athenians like a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. Relying on the royal grace and mercy, they had delivered the Phocians to their enemies with their hands tied, and how had that trust been rewarded! In Athens consequently, no one joined in the songs of rejoicing which pealed through Delphi when the Amphictyonic council and the Greek envoys who hailed Philip as the protector of the venerable sanctuary were entertained by him at a banquet and sacrifices, and libations and prayers were offered in favour of Apollo; on the contrary there was great excitement among the citizens and a mingled feeling of sorrow, indignation, and fear. Men fancied that they already saw the Macedonian king in Attica. On the suggestion of Callisthenes they decided to bring the women and children into the city from the country, to hide their possessions and make preparations for defence. In defiance of the Amphictyonic ban the fugitive Phocians were assured of welcome and protection.

Still when Philip, by an embassy of his own, unfolded his peaceful intentions, but at the same time remained in the neighbourhood with his army in readiness, the position began to be considered more calmly. Nevertheless in the first assembly the people clamoured so that the orators could not make themselves heard, and Æschines called out to Philip’s messengers: “The criers are many, the fighters few.” But when in view of the pressure of circumstances, even Demosthenes raised his voice “for the peace,” and warned the general assembly against inconsiderate action, since it would after all be “foolish and sheer nonsense” to engage in a general war over the “shadow at Delphi,” they submitted to the inevitable and recognised the fait accompli. A new embassy, with Æschines at its head, carried to the Macedonian ruler the consent of Athens to the decision of the Amphictyons and to her own entrance into the temple union. Satisfied with this result, the king now arranged for the Pythian games with unusual magnificence, and then returned to Macedonia, leaving a garrison behind him in Phocis.

THE MACEDONIAN PARTY

During the years which followed while Philip made his hereditary kingdom more compact and extended its borders by successful contest with the Illyrians and Triballians, with the Epirots and Molossians, and with the eastern Thracians, and while the land of Hellas lay ruined and broken, the Athenians made use of the time to revive their trade, strengthen and equip their fleet, and erect new and magnificent buildings for public purposes. But the civil breach became more and more clearly apparent, and prevented the lasting healing and cure of the sick commonwealth from the severe wounds of the past years. Since the fraudulent embassy the Macedonian faction which adhered to Æschines and Philocrates and the patriots who honoured Demosthenes, Lycurgus, and Hyperides as their leaders had occupied a hostile position towards one another.

If Æschines had at first placed himself on Philip’s side from a natural inclination because he was dazzled by the royal personality, and he was able to deceive himself concerning his intentions, he was now on personal grounds the warmest supporter of the king, since the latter had called him his friend and enriched him with presents. He who had once made so poor and modest an appearance, now carried his head proudly, walked about in long flowing garments, and showed by his liberal expenditures the alteration in the means at his disposal. The man of practical wisdom had long since recognised the Macedonian’s deceitful game, but he continued to “tread the bridge for him.”

Philocrates flaunted his dishonour still more shamelessly. He openly acknowledged that Philip had royally rewarded him, and his prodigality, his dissolute life, and the careless fashion in which he abandoned himself to sensual pleasures and vices were evidence of the great gifts of his wealthy patron. But among all the partisans of Macedon the greatest zeal was shown by Demades, the son of a poor mariner whose rough wit and popular style of eloquence still revealed the ex-sailor. Round these men, to whom must be added the clever but unprincipled Pytheas, swarmed the mass of people who desired peace at any price that they might enjoy life in ease and comfort and such base spirits as set gold and pleasures above honour and their native country.

THE PATRIOTIC PARTY

[Sidenote: [346-343 B.C.]]

This party had its roots and its support in the selfish and pleasure-loving nature of the multitude, and in proportion as it gained in power and adherents the greater was the merit of the men whom no favours and no profit could shake in their fidelity to their country, who looked with suspicious eyes on all Philip’s undertakings and intrigues and recognised the preservation of the liberty they had received from their fathers as the worthy aim of all struggle and effort. Amongst these men, besides Demosthenes, who in these years developed a marvellous activity, sought to thwart Philip’s plans in every direction, and in especial endeavoured to prevent the intriguing interference of Macedonia in the Peloponnesus by pacification and reconciliation, the noble orator Lycurgus was distinguished in the first rank of the patriots by his unassuming simplicity and austerity. Like Socrates and Phocion an enemy to all sensual pleasures and effeminacy, he effected more through his worth and noble disposition than through his somewhat awkward eloquence. Hyperides was a frank and energetic defender of the interests of his country, but also much addicted to the joys of this world, the pleasures of the table, and fair women. His love affair with the charming courtesan Phryne was notorious. Talented, sprightly, and cultivated, he enchained his listeners by the fresh and natural charm of his oratory. Moreover the “curly-headed” Hegesippus and Timarchus belonged to the patriotic party, but they damaged it in the eyes of the people by their ill repute.

The position of parties was first revealed in the action against Timarchus who in union with Demosthenes had brought before the court of auditors (logistæ) an accusation against Æschines on the subject of the fraudulent embassy (344). To defeat this accusation Æschines endeavoured to represent that Timarchus was absolutely disqualified from taking such proceedings by his shameless life and notorious character, and he demonstrated this so effectually that his adversary was punished with the loss of civil rights while his own integrity was shown in a most favourable light. If Æschines had taken up arms in moral indignation at his opponent’s vicious conduct, we could only approve his action; but far from appearing as a defender of virtue he treats vice and the prevailing immorality with the greatest leniency and only lifts the veil as much as may serve his party aims. A more successful accusation was that which Hyperides brought in the next year against Philocrates. Conscious of his guilt, the accused went into exile even before judgment was pronounced. Demosthenes might feel encouraged by this result to launch a second documentary accusation against Æschines respecting the treachery and bribery in connection with the fraudulent embassy; but thanks to the skilful defence of the accused and the support of the peace-party, this famous contest also ended with the acquittal of the orator (343).

PHILIP’S INTRIGUES AND THE OUTBREAK OF WAR

[Sidenote: [344-341 B.C.]]

Philip employed the deceitful peace to form alliances for himself by means of bribery and intrigues in all the Hellenic states; and to acquire partisans and supporters and nourish the civil divisions. He took especial pains to make his own profit out of the internal dissensions in the Peloponnesian states and the irreconcilable hatred of Arcadians, Messenians, and Argeians against Sparta; to win a reputation for himself as the protector of the weal and thus gradually to bring the power of chief arbitrator into his own hands. The fact that these intrigues were not completely successful and that the Athenians, forewarned and filled with distrust, rendered the task of the Macedonian negotiators much more difficult, may be considered as an effect of the Second Philippic of Demosthenes. Philip’s ill will was consequently especially directed against the Athenians, in whom he recognised the sole opponents of his thirst for dominion, and he sought to damage them in every way without directly violating the peace.

He expelled the pirates from the Attic island of Halonesus and retained the isle as his own property, and when the Athenians complained, he offered it to them as his personal gift; with his newly created naval power he injured Athenian trade and also brought the dominion of the sea more and more into his own hands, and instead of his restoring Eubœa to the Athenians, as had once been hoped, he strengthened his own power by maintaining a secret understanding with his partisans to secure them the supremacy in Eretria and Oreus; in Thessaly he abolished the office of tagus, or chief of the confederation, and set over the four districts four tetrarchs on whom he could rely, a government which was calculated “to break all efforts at union and make the divided forces of the country completely subservient to his aims.”

Above all a great stir was created among the Athenians when Philip again turned his arms against the princes Cersobleptes and Teres, with whom they were on friendly terms. In this it was evidently his intention to secure himself a passage into Asia by the subjection of the Thracian coast lands and at the same time to cut the main arteries of Athenian maritime trade, namely the entrance to the Pontus. A royal document with some conciliatory proposals and the offer to lay the disputed points before an impartial tribunal, was designed to divert the attention of the Athenians from their possessions on the Chersonesus, but its suggestions and demands were opposed by Demosthenes or, as the newer criticism has convincingly shown, by Hegesippus, in the Speech On Halonesus. And in order to cover their Thracian possessions with the old and new cleruchs, the Athenians sent the general Diopeithes with a squadron and mercenary troops. By two successful campaigns Philip now overcame the Thracians in several encounters after a brave resistance and dethroned their princes; he took one town after another on the Middle Hebrus where his soldiers wintered in earth-holes (in “mud-pits”), and secured his new dominions by planting several colonies (Philippopolis, Berœa, Cabyle, etc.); meantime Diopeithes cruised in the Pontic waters, compelled the cities to purchase a safe voyage for their merchant vessels either by a tribute or, as the commander of the fleet expressed it, of good will, and undertook a military expedition in the Macedonian coasts along the Propontis.

When Philip lodged complaints at Athens at this breach of the peace, and threatened reprisals, the Macedonian party was of opinion that they ought to endeavour to conciliate the king by the recall and punishment of the general. Then Demosthenes demonstrated, in the sublime speech The Affairs of the Chersonesus, that the peace had actually been broken long ago by Philip himself, and that the Athenians, instead of punishing their bold leader, as the corrupt servants of the king and the cowardly advocates of peace demanded, ought to supply him with new troops and munitions of war before Philip could bring all his plans to maturity and fall upon Athens herself.

THE THIRD PHILIPPIC

[Sidenote: [341 B.C.]]

After this “act in words,” which had the desired effect, Demosthenes in the Third Philippic, made clear to the Athenians the necessity of concluding an alliance with the rest of the Hellenic towns for the furnishing of mutual aid so that a check might be given to the insolent and mischievous disposition of the Macedonian, who was perpetrating acts of war and violence under cover of a pretended peace.

“In former days, when any Hellenes abused their power for the oppression of others,” so ran this remarkable, wise, and energetic speech, “all Hellas rose to guard the right, and now we permit a ‘good-for-nothing Macedonian,’ a ‘barbarian of the most abandoned character,’ to destroy Greek cities and hold the Pythian games, or cause them to be held by his servants. The Hellenes look on this and do nothing, ‘as a man regards a shower of hail, praying it may not hit him’; his power is allowed to continue growing, no step being taken against it, each reckoning the moment at which another is shipwrecked to his own gain instead of thinking how to save the existence of Hellas and being active in its cause, though none can help knowing that the evil will attain even the most remote. Once the man who allowed himself to be corrupted by the ambitious and malevolent enemies of his country, fell a victim to the general hate, and was visited with the severest punishment as a grievous criminal; now all this is as it were done away and in its stead is introduced that of which Greece lies sick unto death, jealousy of him to whom aught has been given, laughter when he confesses to it, hatred of whoever shall rebuke.”

In the Third Philippic Demosthenes rebukes the indolence and degeneracy of the people with more cutting sarcasm; and although all faith had not disappeared from his soul, yet it is not without reason that the piece has been called “a study in shadows, in whose gloomy colours is revealed a saddened spirit and far from joyful anticipations, whilst through the speech on the Chersonesus, which was written under the influence of bright hopes, there breathes a fresher air.”

The tempestuous eloquence of the Third Philippic made a powerful impression. Now at the eleventh hour the assembly was roused to decisive action; it placed the conduct of business for a time chiefly in the hands of the patriotic party and made energetic preparations for defence. Whilst Hyperides brought the islands of Chios and Rhodes over to the side of Athens, Demosthenes went himself to the scene of the war, persuaded Byzantium, abandoning her ancient jealousy, to reconcile herself with Athens and conclude an offensive and defensive alliance (341), and acquired Abydos and with it the undisturbed navigation of the Hellespont. Meanwhile the Persian governors, who for a long time past had looked with anxiety and uneasiness on the rise and extension of the Macedonian kingdom, were requested to give assistance, and several states in the Peloponnesus were induced to join in “the Hellenic alliance against Philip.” This was a free confederation under the leadership of Athens, with fixed contributions in money and men. Eubœa was also won over to the alliance after the Macedonian governors in Eretria and Oreus had been, the one killed, the other expelled by Phocion. In recognition of these services a golden wreath was awarded to Demosthenes and set on his head in the theatre at the Dionysia.

To make the members of the alliance more ready for sacrifices Athens herself set a magnanimous example of patriotic devotion. It was not only that, on Demosthenes’ suggestion, a change had been effected in the organisation of the trierarchy and thus the less wealthy were secured from oppressive tradition and the rich constrained to make greater efforts in proportion to their resources; the people also agreed that the sums which it had hitherto been customary to apply to festival expenses, entertainments, and dramatic representations should be utilised for military operations. “The people,” says Niebuhr, “whose poverty was dominant in the assembly and refused the gifts by which alone they obtained the luxury of eating meat on certain festival days since all the rest of the year they ate only olives, cabbages, and onions with dry bread and salt fish,--they who made this sacrifice to provide for the honour of their country; this people has my whole heart and my deepest veneration.”

PHILIP RETURNS TO THE FRAY

[Sidenote: [341-340 B.C.]]

The warlike impulse in Athens did not long remain unknown to the Macedonian king. He concealed his anger so long as the Thracian War was still in progress; but when he had destroyed the once powerful Odrysian kingdom and secured the Thracian districts by means of colonies and garrisons, when he had led his army across the Hæmus to the Getæ and had won over the colonies on the western shore of the Pontus by conciliation or force, he proceeded to send the Athenians a defiant letter, full of complaints and accusations, and added to them such insults by marching into their possessions on the Chersonesus and seizing Athenian merchantmen, that the assembly of the people declared the peace to have been violated, threw down the peace column, and took measures to furnish substantial aid to the Byzantines whom Philip was even then threatening with a siege.

There was no delusion in Athens as to the importance of the step. When Hegesippus recommended the refusal of Philip’s last proposals, there was a cry “Thou art bringing war upon us,” whereupon he answered: “Not war alone, but early death and mourning garments and public burials and funeral orations if ye will give yourselves in earnest to free the Hellenes and win back the hegemony which your fathers maintained.”

Thus ended the hollow Peace of Philocrates which had lasted seven years, and although from the aspect of affairs and the previous course of events there could be no hope of a successful struggle of divided Hellas against the advancing power of the Macedonian kingdom, now in the youthful vigour of its military strength; yet we cannot but feel the deepest respect for the manly impulse, the resolution which defied death, and preferred to fall gloriously and honourably under the feet of hostile armies, rather than be any longer a prey to the deceitful trickery of the king and his purchased satellites, or hover any longer in the undignified and ruinous state between war and peace. It was not a question of preserving “a piece of finery which had grown old-fashioned,” but of saving liberty and the popular government handed down from their forefathers, of passing on unimpaired to their successors the institutions and political forms for which former generations had staked their property and their blood, and of avoiding the break with the great historical past as long as possible.

SIEGE OF PERINTHUS AND BYZANTIUM

[Sidenote: [340-339 B.C.]]

And that there was still strength and courage in the Greek people, Philip to his great chagrin soon received sensible evidence before Perinthus, a maritime city, built in terrace fashion on the high ridge of a tongue of land on the Propontis, with rows of houses crowded thickly together and which he failed to take after a long siege by land and sea. Supported by the Byzantines and the Persian governor, the brave citizens repelled storm and attack with spirit. And now encouraged by the example of the Perinthians, and with the co-operation of the Athenians who sent first Chares, then Phocion, with ships and men to the aid of their hard-pressed ally, the Byzantines offered a manful resistance; so that here too Philip had to raise the siege and it was only by a stratagem that he succeeded in bringing off his fleet from the Black Sea through the Bosporus and the Hellespont.

The feeble Byzantines would hardly have held out so long against the siege which Philip conducted in similar fashion with battering-rams, machines for flinging projectiles and saps, but Chares, the Athenian, and his squadron drove the Macedonian fleet to the Pontus in a victorious combat, and from his advantageous position at Chrysopolis protected the entrance to the sea, while the valiant Phocion did his utmost to aid in the defensive measures of the Byzantine commander Leon, whom he had previously known in Plato’s school. So here too Philip failed to attain his object, in spite of the skill of his engineers and the bravery of his troops, who once even won an entrance into the town on a rainy, moonless night, but were beaten back in a hot fight by the citizens, who ran up hastily, considerably aided by the appearance of an aurora borealis.

DECLINE OF PHILIP’S PRESTIGE; THE SCYTHIAN EXPEDITION

The golden wreath and votes of gratitude with which the rescued Perinthians and Byzantines and the Attic cleruchs on the Chersonesus expressed their thanks to the Athenian state, were especially due to the orator Demosthenes, who by his disinterested and patriotic activity had been mainly instrumental in bringing about this revival of energy. On the news of Philip’s failures at Perinthus and Byzantium, the national party reared its head more proudly. Relying on Athens--whose ships again ruled the Pontus as far as Thessaly, barred the coasts and impeded Macedonian trade and maritime commerce--the patriotic party, in which the spirit of independence, freedom, and national honour was not yet extinct, again bestirred itself in all the Hellenic cities. Even at Thebes evidences appeared which showed how great was the indignation and suspicion against Philip. The partisans of Macedon and the supporters of the peace were thrust into the background; the Hellenic alliance received new members and adherents. Philip’s consideration was manifestly on the wane, the more as during this time he was with his army in the distant regions of the Danube. For in order to compensate his troops for their fruitless toil by means of a raiding expedition and restore his military reputation by a brilliant feat, Philip led his army from Byzantium against the Scythians on the Lower Danube. Here he did indeed win the victory in a great pitched battle, took many prisoners, and made spoil of a number of valuable horses and live stock; but on the return march through the country of the Triballi the greater part of this booty was lost; it was only with great difficulty, and when he himself had been sorely wounded, that he led back the army through the pass of Hæmus to his own country.

THE CRUSADE AGAINST AMPHISSA

[Sidenote: [339-338 B.C.]]

Nothing but a brilliant feat of arms could restore Philip his declining prestige in Hellas, and to this his partisans paved the way. They contrived to kindle fresh dissensions amongst the Hellenes and managed so skilfully that Philip was afforded an excuse for the invasion of Greece and could hide his personal objects under an honourable pretext. He was able to appear a second time as the protection of the Pythian sanctuary and to overthrow his adversaries.

The Locrians of Amphissa had utilised considerable portions of that accursed “Crissæan plain” as corn and meadow land, had set up brick kilns and farmyards and in the walled haven had erected a toll house where pilgrims journeying to the place of the holy oracle had to pay an impost for shelter and guidance. The Delphians had left the Amphissians in peace to do as they would, especially as the latter paid the usual tithe for the ground they occupied, as well as a ground rent. After the Phocian War, in which the Locrians exhibited so much zeal for the honour of the temple, they would not be likely to become more neglectful in the fulfilment of their tasks; and probably also, as a suitable reward for their services, they acquired new tracts of land which they cultivated. But the sanctuary itself probably now stood in a different position as regards the Hellenic people, since a foreign king had assumed the office of its protector and the Pythia was credited with “philippising.”

Æschines, as assistant Athenian deputy (Pylagoras), was at Delphi for the spring meeting of the Amphictyonic council. He had a grudge against the Amphissians because they sided with the patriotic party and he now made use of their position to bring an accusation against them. Pointing, from the height on which the sitting was held, at the harbour and cultivated ground, he made a solemn address to the assembly, and threw it into such a state of excitement by reciting the ancient statutes and oaths, that the envoys, seized with an extravagant religious zeal, marched next morning into the Crissæan plain, accompanied by the citizens and slaves of Delphi, destroyed the harbour, set fire to the houses, and demolished the works. Furious at a proceeding so sudden and carried into effect without any inquiry, the Amphissians fell on the “crusaders” with arms in their hands, and wounded some while others saved themselves by a hasty flight to Delphi.

Here a meeting of the council and the citizens, under the presidency of Cottyphus of Pharsalus, passed a resolution that at the next regular meeting to be held at Pylæ the punishment of the Amphissians for their crime against the god and the sacred plain should be determined on, and for this purpose the deputies were to obtain special powers from their states.

When Æschines made his report to the Athenian people, Demosthenes cried out to him: “Thou bringest war into Attica--an Amphictyonic war”; and his warning words were of force enough to restrain the Athenians from sending delegates to the appointed tribunal. The Thebans also held aloof, although Timolaus, “the greatest slave of his pleasures” and others of Philip’s partisans zealously bestirred themselves. However, the assembly was held, a heavy money-fine was imposed on the Amphissians and when they refused payment it was resolved to make war against them. But the small army which Cottyphus himself led against them effected nothing; there was so little zeal that several tribes did not send their contingents, and the others went to work very sluggishly. Consequently at the next autumn meeting the leaders of the Macedonian party were able to make use of the to elect the Macedonian king as commander in the Sacred War.

Philip had returned from the Scythian expedition only a short time before, but he did not long delay. With an army which gradually increased to thirty thousand foot and twenty thousand horsemen, he broke into Phocis through the pass of Thermopylæ, won possession by a stratagem of the defiles at Parnassus which had been occupied by the generals Chares and Proxenus, and, after some brief contests with the mercenaries, took Amphissa. The city was razed to the ground, the inhabitants expelled, and the consecrated land restored to the Delphian sanctuary. When Philip had further conquered Naupactus and handed it over to the Ætolians, he went back across the mountains, occupied the Phocian frontier town of Elatea in the fertile plain of the Cephisus valley which, commanding the entrance to Locris and Bœotia, offered an excellent base for further operations. When Elatea had been hastily fortified by a stockade and provided with a strong garrison, it became a military camp which threatened immediate danger to Bœotia and Attica.

Demosthenes has painted in lively colours the impression made on the council and citizens of Athens by the news of the occupation of Elatea:

“It was evening when a messenger came to the prytanes with the announcement that Elatea was taken. They immediately rose from table; some drove the market people from their booths and lighted the trellis work in order by this fiery signal to summon the people from the country to the town; others sent to the generals and had the alarm sounded: and the city was in the greatest excitement. At daybreak the next morning the prytanes summoned the great council to the council house; the citizens gathered in the popular assembly, and before the council had consulted and come to a decision the whole community was assembled on the Pnyx. And when the council appeared and the prytanes repeated the news received and had introduced the messenger and the latter had communicated his report, the herald asked: ‘Who will speak?’ but no one came forward; and as often as the herald repeated the question none rose although all the strategi were present and all the public orators.”

Then Demosthenes arose and first opposed the idea that Philip was acting in accordance with an understanding with Thebes:

“Whoever indulges in an exaggerated anxiety as though Philip were sure of the Thebans, mistakes the position, for I am convinced that if it were so we should not hear that he is at Elatea but on our frontiers. But it is quite true that in taking this step he had the design of winning Thebes for himself. He has already brought many over to his side by money and craft, but those who have withstood him from the beginning he will not now be able to win. In what intention has he now occupied Elatea? In order that by displaying his power in the neighbourhood and by the threatening aspect of his weapons he may encourage his friends to a bold stroke and intimidate his enemies, so that they will yield from fear or be coerced by the rest. If then we now remember our former quarrels with the Thebans and then distrust them, we shall first of all accomplish Philip’s dearest wish and then drive those who have hitherto been his adversaries over to his side, and there will be a general attack on Attica in conjunction with him.”

To avoid this Demosthenes made the following suggestions to his fellow-citizens: first to banish this present terror, and next to fear for the Thebans, since they were much nearer the object of dread and it was to them that the danger was most threatening; then they should march to Eleusis with their whole forces and with the cavalry, to show that they were themselves under arms, and by this means the party of liberty in Thebes would be encouraged to make a stand for the right, as those sold to Philip had a supporter at Elatea; finally they might choose ten envoys who in conjunction with the strategi should make the necessary arrangements for the march, and then going to Thebes declare there that the Athenians were ready with assistance if the Thebans wished and demanded it.

“If they accept the offer and join us we shall have attained our end without compromising the dignity of our state; if we are not successful the Thebans will have only themselves to blame if they meet with misfortune, but we shall have done nothing shameful or base.”

ALLIANCE BETWEEN ATHENS AND THEBES

The words of the patriot were a ray of light in the gloom of confusion and uncertainty. His suggestions were adopted without a dissentient word and himself placed at the head of an embassy which was to negotiate the alliance with the Thebans and arrange with the generals as to the measures needed for the war. Demosthenes and his companions set out immediately whilst the army took up its post at Eleusis. When the envoys reached Thebes they immediately encountered those of Philip and his Thessalian allies who, aided by the Macedonian party, were zealously endeavouring by the most seductive promises to persuade the Thebans to conclude a military alliance with the king, or at least to remain neutral and allow his troops a passage to Attica. The witty, eloquent Python of Byzantium showed much skill in enumerating all the acts of benevolence which the king had performed for their city, and in exhibiting the advantages to Thebes which a united attack on Attica would bring in its train, and reminding the people of all the injuries and acts of hostility which Athens had ever inflicted upon them and for which they might now take vengeance. Nor did he forget the participation in the spoils of victory in case of their joining their arms with Macedon and the sufferings and horrors of the war if they stood by Athens. The Theban assembly wavered. But when Demosthenes implored the meeting to forget for the moment all former dissensions and injuries, and only think of saving their native Hellas and preserving liberty and honour; when he made it clear to them that the common danger could only be averted by their firm cohesion--then all doubts vanished before his fiery words. In the enthusiasm with which his speech filled them, they forgot self interest, fear, and favour; they determined to renounce the king and to make an offensive and defensive alliance with Athens. It was the last flicker of the fire which had shone so bravely in the days of the Persian War. At this time Demosthenes’ opinion was decisive, not less in the newly erected confederate council at Thebes than before the popular assembly at Athens.

The provisions of the treaty are not positively known. Thebes was recognised as the head of Bœotia, each side secured in its possessions, and the restoration of the Phocian commonwealths determined on. Two-thirds of the cost of the war was to be borne by Athens, one-third by Thebes On the other hand the assertion of Æschines that Thebes was to have the sole command by land, and by sea was to share it with Athens, lies under justifiable suspicion.

The newly awakened military spirit and the union of the arms of the two most powerful Hellenic states, by no means promised well for Philip’s enterprises. He therefore again had recourse to negotiation. His friends and ambassadors protested that he had no hostile intentions against Greece, he had only come to fulfil the decrees of the Amphictyons. Even in Thebes and Athens there were notable men whose voices counselled peace, appealing to the evil signs and presages which were forthcoming in great numbers.

“The Pythia announced heavy misfortunes and old Sibylline utterances were in circulation which pointed to unfortunate battles and bloody fields of corpses, a prey to ravens and vultures: the vanquished weeps, ruin strikes the victor.”

It required all the energy and decision of Demosthenes to overcome these impressions. He went himself to Thebes and confirmed the Bœotarchs and the assembly of the people in their resolution; in Athens, where even Phocion spoke against the war, he is said to have threatened, to “drag into a cell by the hair of his head the first man who suggested peace with Philip.” Demosthenes carried his point. His popularity ran so high that the Athenians honoured him with the award of a golden crown twice in one year.

In the first days of spring the citizen army of Athens set out for Thebes and encamped before the city; but the Thebans brought them in and entertained them in their houses until the two allied armies marched together into the Phocian country. The two first encounters with the Macedonian troop at the Cephisus and in the “wintry” mountain country were favourable to the Hellenes. In Thebes and Athens thanks were rendered to the gods with sacrifices and solemn processions for the successful “river and winter battles.” The Athenian army had especially distinguished itself by its discipline, equipment, and military ardour. Such men in Phocis as were capable of bearing arms joined the allies who now occupied the defiles leading into Bœotia. In order to drive them from this advantageous position and open a passage for himself, Philip again had recourse to a stratagem. He sent a division of his army into Bœotia by another mountain road and caused the villages and hamlets to be set on fire. This determined the Bœotian leaders to leave their position and protect their own country. Philip had been waiting for this; he quickly recalled that division and then marched through the passes with his whole army on Chæronea in the plain of the Cephisus, where the wide level offered a favourable battle-field.

THE ARMIES IN THE PLAIN OF CHÆRONEA

[Sidenote: [338 B.C.]]

Here he was met by the army of the Hellenic allies. To the Thebans and Athenians who formed the kernel, the Eubœans, Megarians, Corinthians, Achæans, and Corcyræans had added their manhood, so that on the whole the Greeks had perhaps the advantage in numbers over their opponent. On the other hand they were far behind him in everything else. Their hastily summoned troops, composed of various nationalities, were no match either in training and discipline or in the use of weapons and military experience for the well-equipped and seasoned hosts of the Macedonians--who had lately been through the Thracian War, crossed the Hæmus and fought with the Scythians and Triballi in the steppes of the Danube--or for the Thessalian horsemen, who were renowned and feared throughout antiquity. And this efficient, practised force was guided by a single will of acknowledged mastery, and led into the battle by experienced generals like Antipater and others; whilst on the side of the Greeks there was no commander of name and consideration. The Athenian Stratocles and the Theban Theagenes were brave and conscientious, but in no way distinguished leaders; and the two other Athenian generals, Lysicles and Chares, the profligate and little regarded captain of mercenaries, could not in any way be compared with Philip.

Under these circumstances it was to be expected that the battle of Chæronea would end in a defeat of the Greeks. But they fought and fell with honour. It was the last test of the strength of the Hellenic people; only a few hired soldiers were to be found in the ranks, the great majority consisting of citizen levies. The heavy infantry of the Thebans, amongst whom the “Sacred Band” of the Three Hundred occupied the place of honour, maintained the reputation for bravery and discipline which they had borne since the days of Epaminondas; and the Athenians, in whose ranks Demosthenes served with the hoplites as a common soldier, were no unworthy members of the league. They formed the left wing whilst the Thebans fought on the right; the rest of the Hellenes and the mercenaries filled the centre. Philip, recognising the importance of the battle, made his dispositions with great wariness. He himself took command of the wing opposite to the Athenians; the other he entrusted to his son Alexander, a youth of eighteen, who, surrounded by the most experienced warriors, was consumed with eagerness to begin his heroic career of fame and victory in this decisive battle. The oak-tree on the left bank of the Cephisus where his tent stood was still pointed out in Plutarch’s time.[n]

It is among the accusations urged by Æschines against Demosthenes, that in levying mercenary troops he wrongfully took the public money to pay men who never appeared; and further, that he placed at the disposal of the Amphissians a large body of ten thousand mercenary troops, thus withdrawing them from the main Athenian and Bœotian army; whereby Philip was enabled to cut to pieces the mercenaries separately, while the entire force, if kept together, could never have been defeated. Æschines affirms that he himself strenuously opposed this separation of forces, the consequences of which were disastrous and discouraging to the whole cause.

It was in August, 338 B.C., that the allied Grecian army met Philip near Chæronea, the last Bœotian town on the frontiers of Phocis. He seems to have been now strong enough to attempt to force his way into Bœotia, and is said to have drawn down the allies from a strong position into the plain by laying waste the neighbouring fields. His numbers are stated by Diodorus at thirty thousand foot and two thousand horse; he doubtless had with him Thessalians and other allies from northern Greece, but not a single ally from Peloponnesus. Of the united Greeks opposed to him, the total is not known. We can therefore make no comparison as to numbers, though the superiority of the Macedonian army in organisation is incontestable. The largest Grecian contingents were those of Athens, under Lysicles and Chares, and of Thebes, commanded by Theagenes; there were, besides, Phocians, Achæans, and Corinthians--probably also Eubœans and Megarians. The Lacedæmonians, Messenians, Arcadians, Eleans, and Argives, took no part in the war. All of them had doubtless been solicited on both sides, by Demosthenes as well as by the partisans of Philip. But their jealousy and the fear of Sparta led the last four states rather to look towards Philip as a protector against her, though on this occasion they took no positive part.

The command of the army was shared between the Athenians and the Thebans, and its movements were determined by the joint decision of their statesmen and generals. As to statesmen, the presence of Demosthenes at least insured to them sound and patriotic counsel powerfully set forth; as to generals, not one of the three was fit for an emergency so grave and terrible. It was the misfortune of Greece that, at this crisis of her liberty, when everything was staked on the issue of the campaign, neither an Epaminondas nor an Iphicrates was at hand. Phocion was absent as commander of the Athenian fleet in the Hellespont or the Ægean. Portents were said to have occurred, oracles and prophecies were in circulation, calculated to discourage the Greeks; but Demosthenes, animated by the sight of so numerous an army, hearty and combined in defence of Grecian independence, treated all such stories with the same indifference as Epaminondas had shown before the battle of Leuctra, and accused the Delphian priestess of philippising. Nay, so confident was he in the result (according to the statement of Æschines), that when Philip, himself apprehensive, was prepared to offer terms of peace, and the Bœotarchs inclined to accept them, Demosthenes alone stood out, denouncing as a traitor anyone who should broach the proposition of peace, and boasting that if the Thebans were afraid, his countrymen the Athenians desired nothing better than a free passage through Bœotia to attack Philip single-handed.

THE BATTLE OF CHÆRONEA

In the field of battle near Chæronea, Philip himself commanded a chosen body of troops on the wing opposed to the Athenians; while his youthful son Alexander, aided by experienced officers, commanded against the Thebans on the other wing. Respecting the course of the battle, we are scarcely permitted to know anything.[16] It is said to have been so obstinately contested that for some time the result was doubtful. The Sacred Band of Thebes, who charged in one portion of the Theban phalanx, exhausted all their strength and energy in an unavailing attempt to bear down the stronger phalanx and multiplied pikes opposed to them. The youthful Alexander here first displayed his great military energy and ability. After a long and murderous struggle, the Theban Sacred Band were all overpowered and perished in their ranks, while the Theban phalanx was broken and pushed back. Philip on his side was still engaged in undecided conflict with the Athenians, whose first onset is said to have been so impetuous, as to put to flight some of the troops in his army; insomuch that the Athenian general exclaimed in triumph, “Let us pursue them even to Macedonia.” It is farther said that Philip on his side simulated a retreat, for the purpose of inducing them to pursue and to break their order. We read another statement--more likely to be true; that the Athenian hoplites, though full of energy at the first shock, could not endure fatigue and prolonged struggle like the trained veterans in the opposite ranks. Having steadily repelled them for a considerable time, Philip became emulous on witnessing the success of his son, and redoubled his efforts: so as to break and disperse them. The whole Grecian army was thus put to flight with severe loss.

The Macedonian phalanx, as armed and organised by Philip, was sixteen deep; less deep than that of the Thebans either at Delium or at Leuctra. It had veteran soldiers of great strength and complete training in its front ranks; yet probably soldiers hardly superior to the Sacred Band, who formed the Theban front rank. But its great superiority was in the length of the Macedonian pike or sarissa, in the number of these weapons which projected in front of the foremost soldiers, and the long practice of the men to manage this impenetrable array of pikes in an efficient manner. The value of Philip’s improved phalanx was attested by his victory at Chæronea.

But the victory was not gained by the phalanx alone. The military organisation of Philip comprised an aggregate of many sorts of troops besides the phalanx--the bodyguards, horse as well as foot; the hypaspistæ, or light hoplites; the light cavalry, bowmen, slingers, etc.

One thousand Athenian citizens perished in this disastrous field; two thousand more fell into the hands of Philip as prisoners. The Theban loss is said also to have been terrible, as well as the Achæan. But we do not know the numbers; nor have we any statement of the Macedonian loss. Demosthenes, himself present in the ranks of the hoplites, shared in the flight of his defeated countrymen. He is accused by his political enemies of having behaved with extreme and disgraceful cowardice; but we see plainly from the continued confidence and respect shown to him by the general body of his countrymen, that they cannot have credited the imputation. The two Athenian generals, Chares and Lysicles, both escaped from the field. The latter was afterwards publicly accused at Athens by the orator Lycurgus. Lysicles was condemned to death by the dicastery. What there was to distinguish his conduct from that of his colleague Chares--who certainly was not condemned, and is not even stated to have been accused--we do not know.

Unspeakable was the agony at Athens on the report of this disaster, with a multitude of citizens as yet unknown left on the field or prisoners, and a victorious enemy within three or four days’ march of the city. The whole population, even old men, women, and children, were spread about the streets in all the violence of grief and terror, interchanging effusions of distress and sympathy, and questioning every fugitive as he arrived about the safety of their relatives in the battle. The flower of the citizens of military age had been engaged; and before the extent of loss had been ascertained, it was feared that none except the elders would be left to defend the city. At length the definite loss became known: severe indeed and terrible--yet not a total shipwreck, like that of the army of Nicias in Sicily.

As on that trying occasion, so now: amidst all the distress and alarm, it was not in the Athenian character to despair. The mass of citizens hastened unbidden to form a public assembly, wherein the most energetic resolutions were taken for defence. Decrees were passed enjoining every one to carry his family and property out of the open country of Attica into the various strongholds; directing the body of the senators, who by general rule were exempt from military service, to march down in arms to Piræus, and put that harbour in condition to stand a siege; placing every man without exception at the disposal of the generals, as a soldier for defence, and imposing the penalties of treason on every one who fled; enfranchising all slaves fit for bearing arms, granting the citizenship to metics under the same circumstances, and restoring to the full privilege of citizens those who had been disfranchised by judicial sentence. This last-mentioned decree was proposed by Hyperides; but several others were moved by Demosthenes, who, notwithstanding the late misfortune of the Athenian arms, was listened to with undiminished respect and confidence. Not only he, but also most of the conspicuous citizens and habitual speakers in the assembly, came forward with large private contributions to meet the pressing wants of the moment. Every man in the city lent a hand to make good the defective points in the fortification. Materials were obtained by felling the trees near the city, and even by taking stones from the adjacent sepulchres--as had been done after the Persian War when the walls were built under the contrivance of Themistocles. The temples were stripped of the arms suspended within them, for the purpose of equipping unarmed citizens. By such earnest and unanimous efforts, the defences of the city and of Piræus were soon materially improved. At sea Athens had nothing to fear. Her powerful naval force was untouched, and her superiority to Philip on that element incontestable. Envoys were sent to Trœzen, Epidaurus, Andros, Ceos, and other places, to solicit aid and collect money; in one or other of which embassies Demosthenes served, after he had provided for the immediate exigences of defence.

PHILIP TAKES THEBES

Such were the precautions taken at Athens after this fatal day. But Athens lay at a distance of three or four days’ march from the field of Chæronea; while Thebes, being much nearer, bore the first attack of Philip. Of the behaviour of that prince after his victory, we have contradictory statements. According to one account, he indulged in the most insulting and licentious exultation on the field of battle, jesting especially on the oratory and motions of Demosthenes; a temper from which he was brought round by the courageous reproof of Demades, then his prisoner as one of the Athenian hoplites.[17] At first he even refused to grant permission to inter the slain, when the herald came from Lebadea to make the customary demand. According to another account, the demeanour of Philip towards the defeated Athenians was gentle and forbearing. However the fact may have stood as to his first manifestations, it is certain that his positive measures were harsh towards Thebes and lenient towards Athens. He sold the Theban captives into slavery; he is said also to have exacted a price for the liberty granted to bury the Theban slain--which liberty, according to Grecian custom, was never refused, and certainly never sold, by the victor. Whether Thebes made any further resistance, or stood a siege, we do not know. But presently the city fell into Philip’s power, who put to death several of the leading citizens, banished others, and confiscated the property of both. A council of Three Hundred--composed of philippising Thebans, for the most part just recalled from exile--was invested with the government of the city, and with powers of life and death over every one. The state of Thebes became much the same as it had been when the Spartan Phœbidas, in concert with the Theban party headed by Leontiades, surprised the Cadmea. A Macedonian garrison was now placed in the Cadmea, as a Spartan garrison had been placed then. Supported by this garrison, the philippising Thebans were uncontrolled masters of the city; with full power, and no reluctance, to gratify their political antipathies. At the same time, Philip restored the minor Bœotian towns--Orchomenos, and Platæa, probably also Thespiæ and Coronea--to the condition of free communities instead of subjection to Thebes.

At Athens also, the philippising orators raised their voices loudly and confidently, denouncing Demosthenes and his policy. New speakers, who would hardly have come forward before, were now put up against him. The accusations however altogether failed; the people continued to trust him, omitting no measure of defence which he suggested. Æschines, who had before disclaimed all connection with Philip, now altered his tone, and made boast of the ties of friendship and hospitality subsisting between that prince and himself. He tendered his services to go as envoy to the Macedonian camp; whither he appears to have been sent, doubtless with others, perhaps with Xenocrates and Phocion. Among them was Demades also, having been just released from his captivity. Either by the persuasions of Demades, or by a change in his own dispositions, Philip had now become inclined to treat with Athens on favourable terms. The bodies of the slain Athenians were burned by the victors, and their ashes collected to be carried to Athens; though the formal application of the herald, to the same effect, had been previously refused. Æschines (according to the assertion of Demosthenes) took part as a sympathising guest in the banquet and festivities whereby Philip celebrated his triumph over Grecian liberty. At length Demades with the other envoys returned to Athens, reporting the consent of Philip to conclude peace, to give back the numerous prisoners in his hands, and also to transfer Oropus from the Thebans to Athens.

PEACE OF DEMADES

Demades proposed the conclusion of peace to the Athenian assembly, by whom it was readily decreed. To escape invasion and siege by the Macedonian army was doubtless an unspeakable relief; while the recovery of the two thousand prisoners without ransom was an acquisition of great importance, not merely to the city collectively but to the sympathies of numerous relatives. Lastly, to regain Oropus--a possession which they had once enjoyed, and for which they had long wrangled with the Thebans--was a further cause of satisfaction. Such conditions were doubtless acceptable at Athens. But there was a submission to be made on the other side, which to the contemporaries of Pericles would have seemed intolerable, even as the price of averted invasion or recovered captives. The Athenians were required to acknowledge the exaltation of Philip to the headship of the Grecian world, and to promote the like acknowledgment by all other Greeks, in a congress to be speedily convened. They were to renounce all pretensions to headship, not only for themselves, but for every other Grecian state; to recognise not Sparta nor Thebes, but the king of Macedon, as Panhellenic chief; to acquiesce in the transition of Greece from the position of a free, self-determining, political aggregate, into a provincial dependency of the kings of Pella and Ægæ. It is not easy to conceive a more terrible shock to that traditional sentiment of pride and patriotism, inherited from forefathers who, after repelling and worsting the Persians, had first organised the maritime Greeks into a confederacy running parallel with and supplementary to the non-maritime Greeks allied with Sparta; thus keeping out foreign dominion and casting the Grecian world into a system founded on native sympathies and free government. Such traditional sentiment, though it no longer governed the character of the Athenians nor impressed upon them motives of action, had still a strong hold upon their imagination and memory, where it had been constantly kept alive by the eloquence of Demosthenes and others. The Peace of Demades, recognising Philip as chief of Greece, was a renunciation of all this proud historical past, and the acceptance of a new and degraded position, for Athens as well as for Greece generally.

If Philip had not purchased the recognition of Athens, he might have failed in trying to extort it by force. For though, being master of the field, he could lay waste Attica with impunity, and even establish a permanent fortress in it like Decelea--yet the fleet of Athens was as strong as ever, and her preponderance at sea irresistible. Under these circumstances, Athens and Piræus might have been defended against him, as Byzantium and Perinthus had been, two years before; the Athenian fleet might have obstructed his operations in many ways; and the siege of Athens might have called forth a burst of Hellenic sympathy, such as to embarrass his further progress. We may see therefore that, with such difficulties before him if he pushed the Athenians to despair, Philip acted wisely in employing his victory and his prisoners to procure her recognition of his headship. His political game was well played, now as always; but to the praise of generosity bestowed by Polybius he has little claim.

Besides the recognition of Philip as chief of Greece, the Athenians, on the motion of Demades, passed various honorary and complimentary votes in his favour; of what precise nature we do not know. Immediate relief from danger, with the restoration of two thousand captive citizens, was sufficient to render the peace generally popular at the first moment; moreover, the Athenians, as if conscious of failing resolution and strength, were now entering upon that career of flattery to powerful kings which we shall hereafter find them pushing to disgraceful extravagance. It was probably during the prevalence of this sentiment, which did not long continue, that the youthful Alexander of Macedon, accompanied by Antipater, paid a visit to Athens. Meanwhile the respect enjoyed by Demosthenes among his countrymen was noway lessened. Though his political opponents thought the season favourable for bringing many impeachments against him, none of them proved successful.

PHILIP IN PELOPONNESUS

Having thus subjugated and garrisoned Thebes, having reconstituted the anti-Theban cities in Bœotia, having constrained Athens to submission and dependent alliance, and having established a garrison in Ambracia, at the same time mastering Acarnania, and banishing the leading Acarnanians who were opposed to him, Philip next proceeded to carry his arms into Peloponnesus. He found little positive resistance anywhere, except in the territory of Sparta. The Corinthians, Argives, Messenians, Eleans, and many Arcadians, all submitted to his dominion; some even courted his alliance, from fear and antipathy against Sparta. Philip invaded Laconia with an army too powerful for the Spartans to resist in the field. He laid waste the country, and took some detached posts; but he did not take, nor do we know that he even attacked, Sparta itself. The Spartans could not resist; yet would they neither submit nor ask for peace. It appears that Philip cut down their territory and narrowed their boundaries on all the three sides; towards Argos, Messene, and Megalopolis. We have no precise account of the details of his proceedings; but it is clear that he did just what seemed to him good, and that the governments of all the Peloponnesian cities came into the hands of his partisans. Sparta was the only city which stood out against him; maintaining her ancient freedom and dignity, under circumstances of feebleness and humiliation, with more unshaken resolution than Athens.

POLITICAL SCHEMES; FAMILY BROILS

[Sidenote: [338-336 B.C.]]

Philip next proceeded to convene a congress of Grecian cities at Corinth. He here announced himself as resolved on an expedition against the Persian king, for the purpose both of liberating the Asiatic Greeks and avenging the invasion of Greece by Xerxes. The general vote of the congress nominated him leader of the united Greeks for this purpose, and decreed a Grecian force to join him, to be formed of contingents furnished by the various cities. The total of the force promised is stated only by Justin, who gives it at two hundred thousand foot, and fifteen thousand horse; an army which Greece certainly could not have furnished, and which we can hardly believe to have been even promised. The Spartans stood aloof from the congress, continuing to refuse all recognition of the headship of Philip. The Athenians attended and concurred in the vote; which was in fact the next step to carry out the peace made by Demades. They were required to furnish a well-equipped fleet to serve under Philip; and they were at the same time divested of their dignity of chiefs of a maritime confederacy, the islands being enrolled as maritime dependencies of Philip, instead of continuing to send deputies to a synod meeting at Athens. For several years afterwards, the naval force in the dockyards of Athens still continued large and powerful; but her maritime ascendency henceforward disappears.

This scheme--the invasion of Persia--had now ceased to be an object of genuine aspiration throughout the Grecian world. The Great King, no longer inspiring terror to Greece collectively, might now be regarded as likely to lend protection against Macedonian oppression. To emancipate the Asiatic Greeks from Persian dominion would be in itself an enterprise grateful to Grecian feeling, though all such wishes must have been gradually dying out since the Peace of Antalcidas. But emancipation, accomplished by Philip, would be only a transfer of the Asiatic Greeks from Persian dominion to his. The synod of Corinth served no purpose except to harness the Greeks to his car, for a distant enterprise lucrative to his soldiers and suited to his insatiable ambition.

It was in 337 B.C. that this Persian expedition was concerted and resolved. During that year preparations were made of sufficient magnitude to exhaust the finances of Philip; who was at the same time engaged in military operations, and fought a severe battle against the Illyrian king Pleurias. In the spring of 336 B.C., a portion of the Macedonian army under Parmenion and Attalus, was sent across to Asia to commence military operations; Philip himself intending speedily to follow.

Such however was not the fate reserved for him. Not long before, he had taken the resolution of repudiating, on the allegation of infidelity, his wife Olympias; who is said to have become repugnant to him, from the furious and savage impulses of her character. He had successively married several wives, the last of whom was Cleopatra, niece of the Macedonian Attalus. It was at her instance that he is said to have repudiated Olympias; who retired to her brother, Alexander of Epirus. This step provoked violent dissensions among the partisans of the two queens, and even between Philip and his son Alexander, who expressed a strong resentment at the repudiation of his mother. Amidst the intoxication of the marriage banquet, Attalus proposed a toast and prayer, that there might speedily appear a legitimate son, from Philip and Cleopatra, to succeed to the Macedonian throne. Upon which Alexander exclaimed in wrath, “Do you then proclaim me as a bastard?”--at the same time hurling a goblet at him. Incensed at this proceeding, Philip started up, drew his sword, and made furiously at his son; but fell to the ground from passion and intoxication. This accident alone preserved the life of Alexander, who retorted, “Here is a man, preparing to cross from Europe into Asia, who yet cannot step surely from one couch to another.” After this violent quarrel the father and son separated. Alexander conducted his mother into Epirus, and then went himself to the Illyrian king. Some months afterwards, at the instance of the Corinthian Demaratus, Philip sent for him back, and became reconciled to him; but another cause of displeasure soon arose, because Alexander had opened a negotiation for marriage with the daughter of the satrap of Caria. Rejecting such an alliance as unworthy, Philip sharply reproved his son, and banished from Macedonia several courtiers whom he suspected as intimate with Alexander; while the friends of Attalus stood high in favour.

THE DEATH OF PHILIP

[Sidenote: [336 B.C.]]

Such were the animosities distracting the court and family of Philip. A son had just been born to him from his new wife Cleopatra. His expedition against Persia, resolved and prepared during the preceding year, had been actually commenced. But Philip foresaw that during his absence danger might arise from the furious Olympias, bitterly exasperated by the recent events, and instigating her brother Alexander, king of Epirus, with whom she was now residing. He now deemed it essential to conciliate him still further, by a special tie of alliance; giving to him in marriage Cleopatra, his daughter by Olympias. For this marriage, celebrated at Ægæ in Macedonia in August 336 B.C., Philip provided festivals of the utmost cost and splendour, commemorating at the same time the recent birth of his son by Cleopatra. Banquets, munificent presents, gymnastic and musical matches, tragic exhibitions--among which Neoptolemus the actor performed in the tragedy of Cinyras, etc., with every species of attraction known to the age--were accumulated, in order to reconcile the dissentient parties in Macedonia, and to render the effect imposing on the minds of the Greeks; who, from every city, sent deputies for congratulation. Statues of the twelve great gods, admirably executed, were carried in solemn procession into the theatre; immediately after them, the statue of Philip himself as a thirteenth god.

Amidst this festive multitude, however, there were not wanting discontented partisans of Olympias and Alexander, to both of whom the young queen with her new-born child threatened a formidable rivalry. There was also a malcontent yet more dangerous--Pausanias, one of the royal bodyguards, a noble youth born in the district called Orestis in upper Macedonia, who, from causes of offence peculiar to himself, nourished a deadly hatred against Philip. The provocation which he had received is one which we can neither conveniently transcribe, nor indeed accurately make out, amidst discrepancies of statement. It was Attalus, the uncle of the new queen Cleopatra, who had given the provocation, by inflicting upon Pausanias an outrage of the most brutal and revolting character. Even for so monstrous an act, no regular justice could be had in Macedonia against a powerful man. Pausanias complained to Philip in person. According to one account, Philip put aside the complaint with evasions, and even treated it with ridicule; according to another account, he expressed his displeasure at the act, and tried to console Pausanias by pecuniary presents. But he granted neither redress nor satisfaction to the sentiment of an outraged man. Accordingly Pausanias determined to take revenge for himself. Instead of revenging himself on Attalus--who indeed was out of his reach, being at the head of the Macedonian troops in Asia--his wrath fixed upon Philip himself, by whom the demand for redress had been refused. That the vindictive Olympias would positively spur on Pausanias to assassinate Philip, is highly probable. Respecting Alexander, though he also was accused, there is no sufficient evidence to warrant a similar assertion;[18] but that some among his partisans--men eager to consult his feelings and to insure his succession--lent their encouragements, appears tolerably well established.

Unconscious of the plot, Philip was about to enter the theatre, already crowded with spectators. As he approached the door, clothed in a white robe, he felt so exalted with impressions of his own dignity, and so confident in the admiring sympathy of the surrounding multitude, that he advanced both unarmed and unprotected, directing his guards to hold back. At this moment Pausanias, standing near with a Gallic sword concealed under his garment, rushed upon him, thrust the weapon through his body, and killed him. Having accomplished his purpose, the assassin immediately ran off, and tried to reach the gates, where he had previously caused horses to be stationed. Being strong and active, he might have succeeded in effecting his escape--like most of the assassins of Jason of Pheræ under circumstances very similar--had not his foot stumbled amidst some vine-stocks. The guards and friends of Philip were at first paralysed with astonishment and consternation. At length, however, some hastened to assist the dying king, while others rushed in pursuit of Pausanias. Leonnatus and Perdiccas overtook him and slew him immediately.

In what way, or to what extent, the accomplices of Pausanias lent him aid, we are not permitted to know. It is possible that they may have posted themselves artfully so as to obstruct pursuit, and favour his chance of escape; which would appear extremely small, after a deed of such unmeasured audacity. Three only of the reputed accomplices are known to us by name--three brothers from the Lyncestian district of upper Macedonia, Alexander, Heromenes, and Arrhibæus, sons of Æropus; but it seems that there were others besides. The Lyncestian Alexander whose father-in-law, Antipater, was one of the most conspicuous and confidential officers in the service of Philip, belonged to a good family in Macedonia, perhaps even descendants from the ancient family of the princes of Lyncestis. It was he who, immediately after Pausanias had assassinated Philip, hastened to salute the prince Alexander as king, helped him to put on his armour, and marched as one of his guards to take possession of the regal palace.[g]

A SUMMING UP OF PHILIP’S CHARACTER

His character was always to be without character in disposition and action; his principles, to have no principles and everywhere to dissemble his aims; his habits, to accustom himself to nothing, but solely to follow the inspirations of the moment; his strength, to remain master of himself in every condition and proceeding, and, in a thousand other causes and consequences of weakness, to follow his chief plan unchanged, and to lead everything around him, whilst to the short-sighted he appeared to be led by all.

He possessed wit, sagacity, and eloquence, and made use of them. He was insinuating and condescending when it was a question of winning or deluding; merciful when he hated; irritating when he loved; compassionate when he himself had dealt the wounds; ready to comfort, when he had decided to strike the heart more deeply; poor, so as to soften the rage of the plundered rich, so as to reward his helpers; liberal with promises when he saw the people were credulous; full of respect for the gods only when he had a mind to; unconcerned as to the lawfulness of the means, provided they led to the end.

“Philip,” says Pausanias, “accomplished the greatest deeds of all the Macedonian kings who reigned before and after him, and also broke more oaths and violated more covenants.”

The new politics which Philip established, arose entirely out of his genius, and the master understood his work and knew how to use it. When Philip as a statesman formed something new with cleverness and vigour, the old must therefore have succumbed to it. The old methods were no longer suitable; the means failed the end, the roads no longer led to the goal; danger then took another form, and was threatened on another side. That which could have saved the Greeks from imitating the new methods of the opponent, and of seizing the spirit of them, and throwing themselves quickly into another kind of transaction, they were no longer capable of. By the side of politics he placed an improved war department, but one spirit drifted into both. Philip possessed the talents especially required by a general. In the greatest danger, full of presence of mind, he never doubted his safety; his most terrible deliberation in the field was quiet deliberation and stratagem. The Bœotians learned this when they had cut him off and already thought him caught, and the Chalcidonians whose cleverly contrived perfidy was wrecked by his cunning. He anticipated all his enemies; they admitted that on this account he always had advantage over them.

Demosthenes says to the Athenians: “You wage war with Philip in the same way as the barbarians carry on a boxing match; when some one is hit he tries to protect the place, and if he is struck on another part his hands go to it; but to prevent the blow or to foresee it, they cannot and will not. It is thus with you; when you hear Philip is in Chæronea, you decide to send an army there, when in Pydna, also there, so that he is truly your commanding officer.” He maintained a standing army and was therefore always ready to strike; this gave him a great superiority, because as monarch he could at once use his fighting forces, without losing time in consultation.

When he attacked the Greeks, his army had already been trained through fighting the surrounding barbarians; it had to learn how useful and necessary it was, and realise to what purpose he made them persevere in peace. He often made them march three hundred stadia encumbered with their weapons, with helmet, shield, and splints, and in addition to this, food and clothing and utensils. They had to observe the strictest discipline. A distinguished Tarentine was dismissed from the service because he had helped himself to a warm bath; Æropus and Damasippus were dismissed because they brought singers into the camp. In the same manner as Epaminondas, in whose school Philip had learned, beat the Lacedæmonian mora by a new formation of the army and deprived them of the efficiency of their firm, quiet movements--so Philip formed the Macedonian phalanx.

Even Æmilius Paulus acknowledged that nothing ever terrified them. They stood the test at Chæronea, where the sacred troops of the Thebans were defeated, and the Athenians, also in the last fight for their freedom, did not prevail against them.[j]

GROTE’S ESTIMATE OF PHILIP

Thus perished the destroyer of freedom and independence in the Hellenic world, at the age of forty-six or forty-seven, after a reign of twenty-three years. Our information about him is signally defective. Neither his means, nor his plans, nor the difficulties which he overcame, nor his interior government, are known to us with exactness or upon contemporary historical authority. But the great results of his reign, and the main lines of his character, stand out incontestably. At his accession, the Macedonian kingdom was a narrow territory round Pella, excluded partially, by independent and powerful Grecian cities, even from the neighbouring sea coast. At his death Macedonian ascendency was established from the coasts of the Propontis to those of the Ionian Sea, and the Ambracian, Messenian, and Saronic gulfs. Within these boundaries, all the cities recognised the supremacy of Philip; except only Sparta, and mountaineers like the Ætolians and others defended by a rugged home.

Good fortune had waited on Philip’s steps; but it was good fortune crowning the efforts of a rare talent. Indeed the restless ambition, the indefatigable personal activity and endurance, and the adventurous courage of Philip were such as, in a king, suffice almost of themselves to guarantee success, even with abilities much inferior to his. That among the causes of Philip’s conquests, one was corruption, employed abundantly to foment discord and purchase partisans among neighbours and enemies; that with winning and agreeable manners, he combined recklessness in false promises, deceit and extortion even towards allies, and unscrupulous perjury when it suited his purpose--this we find affirmed, and there is no reason for disbelieving it. Such dissolving forces smoothed the way for an efficient and admirable army, organised, and usually commanded, by himself. Its organisation adopted and enlarged the best processes of scientific warfare employed by Epaminondas and Iphicrates. Begun as well as completed by Philip, and bequeathed as an engine ready-made for the conquests of Alexander, it constitutes an epoch in military history. But the more we extol the genius of Philip as a conqueror, formed for successful encroachment and aggrandisement at the expense of all his neighbours--the less can we find room for that mildness and moderation which some authors discover in his character. If, on some occasions of his life, such attributes may fairly be recognised, we have to set against them the destruction of the thirty-two Greek cities in Chalcidice, and the wholesale transportation of reluctant and miserable families from one inhabitancy to another.

Besides his skill as a general and politician, Philip was no mean proficient in the Grecian accomplishments of rhetoric and letters. Isocrates addresses him as a friend of letters and philosophy; a reputation which his choice of Aristotle as instructor of his son Alexander tends to bear out. Yet in Philip, as in the two Dionysii of Syracuse and other despots, these tastes were not found inconsistent either with the crimes of ambition or the licenses of inordinate appetite. The contemporary historian Theopompus, a warm admirer of Philip’s genius, stigmatises not only the perfidy of his public dealings, but also the drunkenness, gambling, and excesses of all kinds in which he indulged--encouraging the like in those around him. His Macedonian and Grecian bodyguard, eight hundred in number, was a troop in which no decent man could live; distinguished indeed for military bravery and aptitude, but sated with plunder, and stained with such shameless treachery, sanguinary rapacity, and unbridled lust, as befitted only centaurs and Læstrygons. The number of Philip’s mistresses and wives was almost on an oriental scale; and the innumerable dissensions thus introduced into his court through his offspring by different mothers, were fraught with mischievous consequences.

In appreciating the genius of Philip, we have to appreciate also the parties to whom he stood opposed. His good fortune was nowhere more conspicuous than in the fact, that he fell upon those days of disunion and backwardness in Greece (indicated in the last sentence of Xenophon’s Hellenics) when there was neither leading city prepared to keep watch, nor leading general to take command, nor citizen-soldiers willing and ready to endure the hardships of steady service. Philip combated no opponents like Epaminondas, or Agesilaus, or Iphicrates. How different might have been his career, had Epaminondas survived the victory of Mantinea, gained only two years before Philip’s accession! To oppose Philip, there needed a man like himself, competent not only to advise and project, but to command in person, to stimulate the zeal of citizen-soldiers, and to set the example of braving danger and fatigue. Unfortunately for Greece, no such leader stood forward. In counsel and speech Demosthenes sufficed for the emergency. Twice before the battle of Chæronea--at Byzantium and at Thebes--did he signally frustrate Philip’s combinations. But he was not formed to take the lead in action, nor was there any one near him to supply the defect. In the field, Philip encountered only that “public inefficiency,” at Athens and elsewhere in Greece, of which even Æschines complains; and to this decay of Grecian energy, not less than to his own distinguished attributes, the unparalleled success of his reign was owing. We shall find during the reign of his son Alexander the like genius and vigour exhibited on a still larger scale, and achieving still more wonderful results; while the once stirring politics of Greece, after one feeble effort, sink yet lower, into the nullity of a subject province.[g]

FOOTNOTES

[15] [This made Demosthenes part Scythian.]

[16] [Niebuhr,[h] commenting on our scant information, says, “It is as if the muse of Greece had grown dumb on the death-day of Greek liberty, and had thrown her veil over the death blow.” Later he notes the remarkable coincidence that the battle of Chæronea was fought in the same year in which Rome conquered the Volscians and Latins “and laid the foundation of her sovereignty over all Italy.”]

[17] [According to Diodorus,[i] he said, “Since Fortune, O King, has represented thee like Agamemnon, art thou not ashamed to act the part of Thersites?” With this sharp reproof Philip was so startled, they say, that he wholly changed his former course, and with admiration released the man that had reprehended him and advanced him to places of honour.]

[18] [But Niebuhr[h] is less negative. He exclaims, “Alexander was no doubt deeply implicated in this murder. A jury would have condemned him as an accomplice. But he was prudent enough to make away with the participators in the conspiracy, who might have betrayed him.”]

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L. ALEXANDER THE GREAT

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

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.

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.

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.]

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LI. ALEXANDER INVADES ASIA

SCHEMES OF CONQUEST

[Sidenote: [334 B.C.]]

A year and some months had sufficed for Alexander to make a first display of his energy and military skill, destined for achievements yet greater; and to crush the growing aspirations for freedom among Greeks on the south, as well as among Thracians on the north, of Macedonia. The ensuing winter was employed in completing his preparations; so that early in the spring of 334 B.C., his army destined for the conquest of Asia was mustered between Pella and Amphipolis, while his fleet was at hand to lend support.

The whole of Alexander’s remaining life--from his crossing the Hellespont in March or April 334 B.C., to his death at Babylon in June 323 B.C., eleven years and two or three months--was passed in Asia, amidst unceasing military operations, and ever-multiplied conquests. He never lived to revisit Macedonia; but his achievements were on so transcendent a scale, his acquisitions of territory so unmeasured, and his thirst for further aggrandisement still so insatiate, that Macedonia sinks into insignificance in the list of his possessions. Much more do the Grecian cities dwindle into outlying appendages of a newly grown oriental empire. During all these eleven years, the history of Greece is almost a blank, except here and there a few scattered events. It is only at the death of Alexander that the Grecian cities again awaken into active movement.

The Asiatic conquests of Alexander do not belong directly and literally to the province of an historian of Greece. They were achieved by armies of which the general, the principal officers, and most part of the soldiers, were Macedonian. The Greeks who served with him were only auxiliaries, along with the Thracians and Pæonians. Though more numerous than all the other auxiliaries, they did not constitute, like the Ten Thousand Greeks in the army of the younger Cyrus, the force on which he mainly relied for victory. His chief secretary, Eumenes of Cardia, was a Greek, and probably most of the civil and intellectual functions connected with the service were also performed by Greeks. Many Greeks also served in the army of Persia against him, and composed indeed a larger proportion of the real force (disregarding mere numbers) in the army of Darius than in that of Alexander. Hence the expedition becomes indirectly incorporated with the stream of Grecian history by the powerful auxiliary agency of Greeks on both sides--and still more, by its connection with previous projects, dreams, and legends, long antecedent to the aggrandisement of Macedon--as well as by the character which Alexander thought fit to assume. To take revenge on Persia for the invasion of Greece by Xerxes, and to liberate the Asiatic Greeks, had been the scheme of the Spartan Agesilaus and of the Pheræan Jason; with hopes grounded on the memorable expedition and safe return of the Ten Thousand. It had been recommended by the rhetor Isocrates, first to the combined force of Greece, while yet Grecian cities were free, under the joint headship of Athens and Sparta; next, to Philip of Macedon as the chief of united Greece, when his victorious arms had extorted a recognition of headship, setting aside both Athens and Sparta. The enterprising ambition of Philip was well pleased to be nominated chief of Greece for the execution of this project. From him it passed to his yet more ambitious son.

Though really a scheme of Macedonian appetite and for Macedonian aggrandisement, the expedition against Asia thus becomes thrust into the series of Grecian events, under the Panhellenic pretence of retaliation for the long-past insults of Xerxes. We call it a pretence, because it had ceased to be a real Hellenic feeling, and served now two different purposes: first, to ennoble the undertaking in the eyes of Alexander himself, whose mind was very accessible to religious and legendary sentiment, and who willingly identified himself with Agamemnon or Achilles, immortalised as executors of the collective vengeance of Greece for Asiatic insult; next, to assist in keeping the Greeks quiet during his absence. He was himself aware that the real sympathies of the Greeks were rather adverse than favourable to his success.

Apart from this body of extinct sentiment, ostentatiously rekindled for Alexander’s purposes, the position of the Greeks in reference to his Asiatic conquests was very much the same as that of the German contingents, especially those of the confederation of the Rhine, who served in the grand army with which the emperor Napoleon invaded Russia in 1812. They had no public interest in the victory of the invader, which could end only by reducing them to still greater prostration. They were likely to adhere to their leader as long as his power continued unimpaired, but no longer. Yet Napoleon thought himself entitled to reckon upon them as if they had been Frenchmen, and to denounce the Germans in the service of Russia as traitors who had forfeited the allegiance which they owed to him. We find him drawing the same pointed distinction between the Russian and the German prisoners taken, as Alexander made between Asiatic and Grecian prisoners. These Grecian prisoners the Macedonian prince reproached as guilty of treason against the proclaimed statute of collective Hellas, whereby he had been declared General and the Persian king a public enemy.

Hellas, as a political aggregate, has now ceased to exist, except in so far as Alexander employs the name for his own purposes. Its component members are annexed as appendages, doubtless of considerable value, to the Macedonian kingdom. Fourteen years before Alexander’s accession, Demosthenes, while instigating the Athenians to uphold Olynthus against Philip, had told them: “The Macedonian power, considered as an appendage, is of no mean value; but by itself, it is weak and full of embarrassments.” Inverting the position of the parties, these words represent exactly what Greece herself had become, in reference to Macedonia and Persia, at the time of Alexander’s accession. Had the Persians played their game with tolerable prudence and vigour, his success would have been measured by the degree to which he could appropriate Grecian force to himself, and withhold it from his enemy.

Alexander’s memorable and illustrious manifestations, on which we are now entering, are those, not of the ruler or politician, but of the general and the soldier. In his character his appearance forms a sort of historical epoch. It is not merely in soldier-like qualities--in the most forward and even adventurous bravery, in indefatigable personal activity, and in endurance as to hardship and fatigue--that he stands pre-eminent; though these qualities alone, when found in a king, act so powerfully on those under his command, that they suffice to produce great achievements, even when combined with generalship not surpassing the average of his age. But in generalship, Alexander was yet more above the level of his contemporaries. His strategic combinations, his employment of different descriptions of force conspiring towards one end, his long-sighted plans for the prosecution of campaigns, his constant foresight and resource against new difficulties, together with rapidity of movement even in the worst country--all on a scale of prodigious magnitude--are without parallel in ancient history. They carry the art of systematic and scientific warfare to a degree of efficiency, such as even successors trained in his school were unable to keep up unimpaired.[b]

THE PROBLEM AND THE TROOPS

At a first glance Alexander’s projects appear to bear no slight disproportion to the resources at his disposal. In superficial extension his kingdom (even inclusive of Greece) was barely equal to one-fiftieth of the Persian empire, and the numerical proportion of his fighting power to that of Persia by sea and land was even less in his favour. If we add that at Philip’s death the Macedonian treasury was exhausted, that the greater part of the royal domain had been given away; that most of the imposts and tributes had been remitted; and finally that, while enormous stores of gold and silver lay amassed in the treasuries of the Persian empire, Alexander, on the completion of his armaments, which cost him eight hundred talents [about £160,000 or $800,000] had no more than seventy talents [£14,000 or $70,000] left to begin the war with Asia--the enterprise does in truth appear foolhardy and almost chimerical.

But a closer study of the circumstances shows that Alexander’s projects, though certainly bold, were not rash, but came within the compass of the forces and expedients at his command. To realise the possibility and necessity of their success, to understand the organisation of his army and the character of its operations, we must forget the analogies of modern campaigns, since war--as little dependent as anything else in history on normal laws and conditions--changes its theory and purpose with the change of the local and historical conditions involved. The armies which conquered the East were unable to withstand the legions of Rome.

With reference to the financial considerations we must first bear in mind that Alexander invaded an enemy’s country, where he might reasonably expect to find treasure and stores of all sorts. When once his host was armed and provided with money and food enough to last till they encountered the foe, he had no further need of a large war-fund; the wars of his time not being rendered costly by expensive ammunition and elaborate transport. Thus the lack of money did not hamper Alexander, while the vaunted treasures of the Great King and the Persian satraps made them all the more welcome as the adversaries to the Macedonian soldiery.

The disproportion of the Macedonian sea-power seems a more serious matter. The Persian king could command four hundred sail, his fleet was that of the Phœnicians, the best seamen of the ancient world, and, in their last sea-fight at least, they had defeated the Hellenes. The Macedonian sea-power, founded by Philip but never yet put to the test, was insignificant, and the fleet which was to sail against the Persians consisted mainly of the triremes of the Greek confederacy, from whom an extreme devotion was naturally not to be expected. Alexander’s plans were based entirely upon the excellence of his land forces, and the only use of the fleet was to insure the safety of these in their first movements. When this object had been achieved it became a burden, and Alexander therefore soon took the opportunity of dismissing it.

Lastly, to turn to the Macedonian army, we cannot but recognise in its organisation a rare combination of fortunate circumstance and great military talent. The moral superiority of the Greek army, as opposed to the material superiority of the Persians, had been more and more gloriously proven in almost every war for the last two centuries. The more highly the art of war was developed among the Greeks by civil and foreign strife, the more formidable did they become to the troops of the Persian empire; Alexander’s army, full of martial ardour and proud memories, skilled in all the technicalities of the military profession, and notable by reason of its thoroughly practical organisation as the first strategic body known to history, bore in itself the certainty of victory.

The armies of Asia have always been characterised by the vehemence of their onslaught, their overwhelming numbers, and their wild rushes hither and thither, which make them formidable even in flight. In addition to this there were many thousands of Greeks in Persian pay, so that Alexander could not reckon on having to wage war merely on barbarians, but had to look for Hellenic arms, courage, and military skill, on the part of the enemy. Finally, in accordance with the natural scope of his great enterprise, the mobility necessary for taking offensive, and the stability essential to military occupation, had both to be considered in the constitution of his army.

THE SIZE OF THE ARMY

In Philip’s time the Macedonian forces had consisted of thirty thousand infantry and from three to four thousand horsemen. Alexander had led about the same number of troops against Thebes. On his departure for Asia he left twelve thousand foot-soldiers and fifteen hundred mounted men in Macedonia under the command of Antipater, and their place was taken by eighteen hundred Thessalian knights, five thousand Greek mercenaries, and seven thousand heavy-armed troops furnished by the Greek states. Besides these he had in his following five thousand Triballians, Odrysians, Illyrians, etc., from one to two thousand archers and Agrianian light infantry, Greek cavalry to the number of six hundred, Thracian and Pæonian to the number of nine hundred. The sum total of his troops therefore amounted to not much over 30,000 infantry and a little more than 5,000 horse. This, with slight divergencies suggested by the details of the narrative, is the estimate of Diodorus. Ptolemy Lagi gives the same figures in his Memorabilia, and Arrian repeats them after him. When Anaximenes reckons thirty-four thousand men on foot and five thousand five hundred on horseback he perhaps includes the corps which had already been despatched to Asia by Philip. The estimate of Callisthenes, 40,000 infantry, is obviously too high.

The whole body of infantry and cavalry was not divided into legions or brigades, but into troops bearing the same weapons and, to some extent, recruited from the same district. The very advantages of a Macedonian army rendered necessary an arrangement which would be unsatisfactory under present conditions; the phalanx would have been no phalanx if it had fought with cavalry, light infantry, and Thracian slingers all combined into a complete army in miniature. It is the general use of small fighting units which has made it necessary for the parts of an army to be self sufficient, and to repeat on a small scale the organisation of the whole. Against such an enemy as the Asiatic hordes--collected together for a pitched battle without previous discipline or training, giving up all for lost after a single defeat, and gaining nothing but renewed danger by a victory over organised troops--against such an enemy, solid and homogeneous masses have the advantage of simplicity, weight, and internal stability, and in the same region where Alexander’s phalanx overpowered the army of Darius the Roman legions succumbed to the vehement onslaught of the Parthians. On the whole, Alexander’s army was well adapted for such pitched battles, and hence the bulk of it consisted of his phalanxes and heavy cavalry.

THE PHALANX AND THE CAVALRY

The peculiar character of the phalanx was due to the weapons and co-ordination of the individual members. They were heavily armed according to Greek ideas, equipped with helmets, armour, and a shield which protected the whole body, and their chief weapons were the Macedonian sarissa, a lance more than twenty feet long, and the short Greek sword. Intended solely for close fighting in the mass, they had to be so arranged as to be able, on the one hand, calmly to await the fiercest onset of the enemy, and on the other, to be sure of breaking through the opposing ranks with a rush. They therefore usually stood sixteen deep, the lances of the first five files projecting beyond the front, an impenetrable and indeed unassailable barrier to the advancing enemy; the hinder files laid their sarissa on the shoulders of those in front, so that the charge of the phalanx was irresistible from the double force of weight and motion. Nothing but the thorough gymnastic training of the individual members of the phalanx rendered possible the unity, precision, and rapidity necessary for the very difficult evolutions of a body of men crowded into so small a space. Alexander had about eighteen thousand of these heavy-armed soldiers, the so-called foot-guards, and at the beginning of the campaign they were divided into six divisions under the generals Perdiccas, Cœnus, Craterus, Amyntas the son of Andromenes, Meleager, and Philip the son of Amyntas. The nucleus of these troops at least was Macedonian, and the divisions were named after the Macedonian districts from which they were recruited; thus the division under Cœnus came from Elimea, that under Perdiccas from Orestis and Lyncestis, that of Philip (afterwards led by Polysperchon) from Stymphæa, etc.

What the phalanx was among the infantry, the Macedonian and Thessalian ilai were among the cavalry. Both were composed of heavy-armed soldiers and consisted of the nobility of Macedonia and Thessaly; equal in arms, in birth, and in fame, they vied with each other in distinguishing themselves in the eyes of the king, who usually fought at their head. The importance of this arm to Alexander’s enterprise was proved in almost every fight; terrible alike in single combat and in charges in the mass, their discipline and armour rendered them superior to the light Asiatic cavalry, however great their numbers, and their onslaught on the enemy’s foot was generally decisive. According to the estimate of Diodorus, the knighthood of Macedonia and Thessaly each consisted of five hundred knights; but he, like Callisthenes, sets the cavalry of the Macedonian army at no more than four thousand five hundred men, while the best authorities place it at over five thousand. The two bodies of knights were armed alike--Calas, the son of Harpalus, had command of the Thessalians; Philotas, the son of Parmenion, of the Macedonians.

The latter naturally took the highest rank of the whole Macedonian army, and bore the name of the “guards” or the “king’s guards.” It consisted of eight ilai or squadrons, which were called indifferently by the names of their districts or of their ilarchoi (colonels). That under Clitus called the royal ile, held the first rank among the Macedonian knighthood and formed the agema or royal guard. Besides these knights from Macedonia and Thessaly, there were six hundred more Greek horsemen in the army; they were usually attached to the Thessalian squadron, and seemed to have been similarly armed and drilled. They were commanded by Philip, the son of Menelaus.

Next in rank comes that peculiarly Macedonian body, the hypaspists. The Athenians under Iphicrates had already instituted, under the name of peltasts, a corps with linen corslets, and lighter shields and longer swords than those carried by the hoplites, in order to have a force swifter in attack than the latter and heavier than the light-armed troops. This new kind of corps was received with great approval in Macedonia; the soldier of the phalanx was too heavily armed for service about the person of the king, the light armed soldier was neither dignified nor serviceable enough. This intermediate force was selected for the purpose, and received the name of hypaspists from the long shield, the aspis, as it was called, which they had adopted from the phalanx. This force was of enormous value in a war against Asiatic tribes, for the lie of the land hampered only too often the full use of the phalanx, and it was often essential to attempt surprises, quick marches, and strokes of all sorts for which the phalanx was not sufficiently mobile nor the light troops sufficiently steady. For occupying heights, forcing the passage of rivers, and supporting and following up cavalry charges, these hypaspists were admirably adapted. Their numbers amounted to six thousand men. The whole corps was led by Nicanor, whose brother, Philotas, commanded the knights of the guard, and whose father, Parmenion, is described as general of the phalanxes. The first chiliarchy was that of Seleucus; it bore the title of “royal hypaspists,” and in its ranks the sons of noble families saw their first military service as pages of the king. The second bore the title of “royal escort of hypaspists,” and kept guard over the king’s tent.

THE LIGHT TROOPS

The light troops of the Macedonian army were of peculiar importance. They came from the countries of the Odrysians, Triballians, Illyrians, Agrians, and from upper Macedonia; they were armed with their national weapons of offence and defence, and exercised by the hunting and raiding to which they were accustomed at home and the countless petty wars of their chieftains, they were of extreme value in skirmishing, covering the line of march, and for all the purposes served by Pandours, Croats, and Highlanders in modern warfare. The most famous among them are the Agrian chasseurs and the Macedonian archers, who may have formed together a corps of about two thousand men. There is hardly a battle in which they do not play a prominent part, and the devotion with which they fought is testified by the circumstance that the post of toxarch had to be filled afresh three times in one year. At the opening of the campaign it was held by Clearchus, Attalus being in command of the Agrianians. The strength of the other light troops, usually known by the general designation of Thracians, was five thousand men, under the command of the Thracian prince Sitalces.

It is obvious that in these troops Alexander brought into use a strategic element hitherto practically non-existent. At all events, the light troops of the Greek armies before his time had been of no great importance, either by numbers or by the uses which they served; nor had they escaped a certain amount of contempt--a natural result of the Greek preference for sword-play, rendered more natural by the fact that their light infantry was composed partly of the off-scouring of the people and partly of barbarian mercenaries. There now appeared on the scene light troops whose national characteristics proved advantageous in this particular kind of fighting, and whose strength and glory lay in those arts of surprise, alarm, and retreat in apparent confusion, which seemed purposeless and questionable to Greek warriors. The famous Spartan general Brasidas himself confessed that the onset of these tribes--with their loud war-cries and the menacing waving of their weapons--had in it something alarming; their capricious transition from attack to flight, and from disorder to pursuit something terrible, against which nothing but the strict discipline of a Hellenic regiment could make it proof. As a matter of fact, these bands were able to fulfil their object to perfection because, being light troops by nature, they needed, when combined with the serried masses of the army, to be used for no purpose except that for which they were naturally fit.

The fundamental principle of the battle array of the Macedonian army was as follows. The army formed two wings, the left under Parmenion, and the right (which usually made the main attack) under Alexander. The infantry of both wings, four divisions of the phalanxes on the right and two, with the corps of hypaspists, on the left, formed the main line, to which were attached the light and heavy cavalry and the light infantry; the invariable order being that the Macedonian guards were on the right, with the Pæonian cavalry and skirmishers, the Agrianian chasseurs and the archers; and the Thessalian guards on the left, with the Greek cavalry, Agathon’s Odrysian Thracians, and, lastly, the light infantry, which was often detached from the fighting-line to protect the camp and baggage. In the closest formation, when the phalanx was covered by its shields and stood sixteen deep, and the cavalry eight deep, the line of battle required a plain of at least half a mile in breadth to deploy in, as a rule the phalanxes alone forming a line nearly five thousand paces long.

Such was the army with which Alexander proposed to conquer the East. Though relatively small in numbers it had every prospect of success by reason of its organisation, the excellent discipline of the several corps, the moral force of all, and finally, the personal character of the king and his generals. The Persian empire was not in a position to offer resistance; in its extent, the condition of its subject races, and the inefficiency of its government it contained the elements of its inevitable ruin.

THE CONDITION OF THE PERSIAN EMPIRE

If we consider the condition of the Persian empire at the time Darius Codomannus ascended the throne, we see plainly how completely it was disintegrated and ripe for dissolution. The cause did not lie in the moral corruption of the court, of the ruling race, and of the peoples it ruled. This corruption, the invariable accompaniment of despotism, is never prejudicial to despotic power; and the greatest empire of modern times gives proof that in the midst of the most shocking profligacy at court, of constant cabals and scandals among the nobles, violent changes of dynasty and unnatural cruelty to the party all-powerful up to the moment of change, despotism enlarges its borders more and more. Persia’s misfortune was to have a succession of weak rulers, who were unable to hold the reins of power as firmly as was essential in the interests of the cohesion of the empire; and the consequence was that the people lost the slavish fear, the satraps the blind obedience, the whole empire the only unity which held it together. Thence there grew in the subject peoples, all of whom retained their old religion, laws, and customs, and some their native princes, the longing for independence; in the satraps, too, powerful vicegerents of large and remote districts, the lust of independent power; in the ruling race--which had forgotten in the possession and habit of command the very conditions of its establishment and continuance--indifference to the Great King and the stock of the Achæmenides. In the hundred years of almost complete inaction which followed Xerxes’ invasion of Europe, a singular development of the art of war had taken place, and Asia had lost the capacity for coping with it; Greek weapons seemed more powerful than the immense hordes of Persia the satraps trusted to in their rebellions and King Ochus in his campaign to suppress the revolt in Egypt; so that the empire founded by the victories of Persian arms was forced to protect itself by the help of Greek mercenaries.

It is true that Ochus had succeeded in restoring the external unity of the empire and in asserting his power with the fanatical severity proper to despotism; but it was too late. He sank into inaction and impotence, the satraps retained their too lofty station, and in the revival of oppression the subject peoples, particularly those of the western satrapies, did not forget that they had all but thrown it off.

Finally, after fresh and frightful complications, Darius came to the throne. To save the empire he should have been energetic rather than virtuous, cruel rather than mild, arbitrary rather than honourable. He gained the respect of the Persians, all the satraps were devoted to him; but that could not save Persia. He was not feared but loved, and time was soon to show that the nobles of the empire preferred their own advantage to the favour or the service of a master in whom they could admire all but his imperial qualities.

The empire of Darius extended from the Indus to the Hellenic Sea, from the Jaxartes to the Libyan desert. His rule, or rather, the rule of his satraps, did not vary with the character of the various races they ruled; it was nowhere a national form of government, nor had it anywhere the guarantee of a dependent organisation; their power was limited to the satisfaction of arbitrary caprice, the exaction of perpetual impositions, and a kind of hereditary tenure which had grown customary under weak princes. Thus the Great King had hardly any authority over them except the force of arms or such as they chose to recognise for personal reasons. The conditions which existed everywhere within the Persian empire merely rendered the mouldering colossus less capable of rising in its own defence.

The tribes of Iran, Turania, and Ariana were indeed warlike, and happy under any rule which led them to battle and plunder, and horsemen from Hyrcania, Bactria, and Sogdiana formed the standing army of the satraps in most provinces, but there was no great attachment to the Persian empire to be found among them, and terrible as their onslaught had been in the armies of Cyrus and Cambyses, they were wholly incapable of a serious and prolonged defence, especially when opposed to Greek prowess and military skill.

And as for the western tribes, which were held in subjection only by force, and often with difficulty, they were certain to abandon the Persian cause if a victorious enemy approached their borders.

The Greeks on the coast of Asia Minor were barely kept in subjection by tyrants who depended for their existence on the empire and its satraps, and the inland tribes of the peninsula, after two centuries of stern oppression, had neither the power nor the will to rise in the cause of Persia. They had not even taken part in the previous rebellions of the satrapies of Asia Minor, they were dull, indolent, and forgetful of their past. The same held good of the two Syrias on either side of the water; long centuries of slavery had reduced the inhabitants to the lowest stage of enervation, and with repulsive indifference they submitted to whatever fate overtook them. On the coast of Phœnicia alone the old versatile life survived, and with it more danger than devotion to Persia; and nothing but private interest and jealousy of Sidon kept Tyre faithful to the Persians. Lastly, Egypt had never relaxed or disguised her hatred of the foreigners, and the devastations of Ochus might cripple but could never subdue her. All the countries conquered to its own perdition by the Persian empire were to all intents and purposes lost at the first attack from the West.[c]

THE ENTRY INTO ASIA, ACCORDING TO ARRIAN

In the spring of 334 B.C., Alexander completed his preparations and moved towards the Hellespont (leaving the administration of the affairs in Greece in Antipater’s hands), and carried an army of foot, consisting of archers and light-armed soldiers, about thirty thousand, and a little above five thousand horse. He first directed his march to Amphipolis, by way of the lake Cercynites, and thence to the mouths of the river Strymon, which having crossed, he passed by Mount Pangea, along the road leading to Abdera and Maronea, maritime cities of Greece. Thence he marched to the river Hebrus, which being easily forded, he proceeded through the country of Plætis to the river Melas, and thence, on the twentieth day after his departure from Macedon, he arrived at Sestos, whence marching to Elæus, he sacrificed upon the tomb of Protesilaus, because he, of all the Greeks who accompanied Agamemnon to the siege of Troy, set his foot first on the Asiatic shore.

The design of this sacrifice was, that his descent into Asia might be more successful to him, than the former was to Protesilaus. Then having committed to Parmenion the care of conveying the greatest part both of the horse and foot from Sestos to Abydos, they were accordingly transported in 160 trireme galleys, besides many other vessels of burden. Several authors report, that Alexander sailed from Elæus, another port in Greece, himself commanding the flag-ship; and also, that when he was in the middle of the Hellespont, he offered a bull to Neptune and the Nereids; and poured forth a libation into the sea from a golden cup. He is moreover said first of all to have stepped on shore in Asia completely armed, and to have erected altars to Jupiter Descensor, and to Pallas and Hercules. When he came to Ilium, he sacrificed to Pallas Iliaca, and having fixed the arms he then wore in her temple, he took down from thence some consecrated armour, which had remained there from the time of the Trojan War. This armour, some targeteers were always wont to bear before him, in his expedition. He is also said to have sacrificed to Priam upon the altar of Jupiter Herceios, that he might thereby avert the wrath of his manes from the progeny of Pyrrhus, whence he deduced his pedigree.

When he arrived at Ilium, Menetius, the governor, crowned him with a crown of gold; the same did Chares the Athenian, who came for that purpose from Sigeum; and several others, as well Greeks as Asiatics, followed their example. He then encircled the sepulchre of Achilles with a garland (as Hephæstion did that of Patroclus) and pronounced him happy, who had such a herald as Homer to perpetuate his name; and indeed he was deservedly so styled, because that single accident had raised him to the highest pitch of human glory. As to his actions, none had hitherto described them in a suitable manner, either in prose or verse, neither had any attempted them in a lyric strain, as the poets had, heretofore, done those of Hiero, Gelo, Theron, and many more, whose exploits were no ways comparable to his; for which reason his greatest acts are less known than the least and most inconsiderable of many ancient generals.[e]

THE BATTLE OF THE GRANICUS

The army, when reviewed on the Asiatic shore after its crossing, presented a total of thirty thousand infantry, and forty-five hundred cavalry, thus distributed:

INFANTRY

Macedonian phalanx and hypaspists 12,000 Allies 7,000 Mercenaries 5,000 ------ Under the command of Parmenion 24,000 Odrysians, Triballi (both Thracians), and Illyrians 5,000 Agrianes and archers 1,000 ------ Total infantry 30,000

CAVALRY

Macedonian heavy--under Philotas son of Parmenion 1,500 Thessalian (also heavy)--under Calas 1,500 Miscellaneous Grecian--under Erigyius 600 Thracian and Pæonian (light)--under Cassander 900 ------ Total cavalry 4,500

Such seems the most trustworthy enumeration of Alexander’s first invading army. There were, however, other accounts, the highest of which stated as much as forty-three thousand infantry with four thousand cavalry. Besides these troops, also, there must have been an effective train of projectile machines and engines, for battles and sieges, which we shall soon find in operation. As to money, the military chest of Alexander, exhausted in part by profuse donatives to his Macedonian officers, was as poorly furnished as that of Napoleon Bonaparte on first entering Italy for his brilliant campaign of 1796. According to Aristobulus, he had with him only seventy talents [£14,000 or $70,000]; according to another authority, no more than the means of maintaining his army for thirty days.

Previously the Macedonian generals Parmenion and Calas had crossed into Asia with bodies of troops. Parmenion, acting in Æolis, took Grynia, but was compelled by Memnon to raise the siege of Pitane; while Calas, in the Troad, was attacked, defeated, and compelled to retire to Rhœteum.

We thus see that during the season preceding the landing of Alexander, the Persians were in considerable force, and Memnon both active and successful even against the Macedonian generals, on the region northeast of the Ægean. This may help to explain that fatal imprudence, whereby the Persians permitted Alexander to carry over without opposition his grand army into Asia, in the spring of 334 B.C. They possessed ample means of guarding the Hellespont, had they chosen to bring up their fleet, which, comprising as it did the force of the Phœnician towns, was decidedly superior to any naval armament at the disposal of Alexander. The Persian fleet actually came into the Ægean a few weeks afterwards. Now Alexander’s designs, preparations, and even intended time of march, must have been well known not merely to Memnon, but to the Persian satraps in Asia Minor, who had got together troops to oppose him. These satraps unfortunately supposed themselves to be a match for him in the field, disregarding the pronounced opinion of Memnon to the contrary, and even overruling his prudent advice by mistrustful and calumnious imputations.

At the time of Alexander’s landing, a powerful Persian force was already assembled near Zelia in the Hellespontine Phrygia, under command of Arsites the Phrygian satrap, supported by several other leading Persians, Spithridates (satrap of Lydia and Ionia), Pharnaces, Atizyes, Mithridates, Rheomithres, Niphates, Petines, etc. Forty of these men were of high rank (denominated kinsmen of Darius), and distinguished for personal valour. The greater number of the army consisted of cavalry, including Medes, Bactrians, Hyrcanians, Cappadocians, Paphlagonians, etc. In cavalry they greatly outnumbered Alexander; but their infantry was much inferior in number, composed, however, in large proportion, of Grecian mercenaries. The Persian total is given by Arrian as twenty thousand cavalry, and nearly twenty thousand mercenary foot; by Diodorus as ten thousand cavalry, and one hundred thousand infantry; by Justin even at six hundred thousand. The numbers of Arrian are the more credible; in those of Diodorus the total of infantry is certainly much above the truth--that of cavalry probably below it.

Memnon, who was present with his sons and with his own division, earnestly dissuaded the Persian leaders from hazarding a battle. Reminding them that the Macedonians were not only much superior in infantry, but also encouraged by the leadership of Alexander, he enforced the necessity of employing their numerous cavalry to destroy the forage and provisions,--and if necessary, even towns themselves,--in order to render any considerable advance of the invading force impracticable. While keeping strictly on the defensive in Asia, he recommended that aggressive war should be carried into Macedonia; that the fleet should be brought up, a powerful land-force put aboard, and strenuous efforts made, not only to attack the vulnerable points of Alexander at home, but also to encourage active hostility against him from the Greeks and other neighbours.

Had his plan been energetically executed by Persian arms and money, we can hardly doubt that Antipater in Macedonia would speedily have found himself pressed by serious dangers and embarrassments, and that Alexander would have been forced to come back and protect his own dominions; perhaps prevented by the Persian fleet from bringing back his whole army. At any rate, his schemes of Asiatic invasion must for the time have been suspended. But he was rescued from this dilemma by the ignorance, pride, and pecuniary interests of the Persian leaders. Unable to appreciate Alexander’s military superiority, and conscious at the same time of their own personal bravery, they repudiated the proposition of retreat as dishonourable, insinuating that Memnon desired to prolong the war in order to exalt his own importance in the eyes of Darius. This sentiment of military dignity was further strengthened by the fact, that the Persian military leaders, deriving all their revenues from the land, would have been impoverished by destroying the landed produce. Arsites, in whose territory the army stood, and upon whom the scheme would first take effect, haughtily announced that he would not permit a single house in it to be burned. Occupying the same satrapy as Pharnabazus had possessed sixty years before, he felt that he would be reduced to the same straits as Pharnabazus under the pressure of Agesilaus--“of not being able to procure a dinner in his own country.” The proposition of Memnon was rejected, and it was resolved to await the arrival of Alexander on the banks of the river Granicus.

This unimportant stream, commemorated in the Iliad, and immortalised by its association with the name of Alexander, takes its rise from one of the heights of Mount Ida near Scepsis, and flows northward into the Propontis, which it reaches at a point somewhat east of the Greek town of Parium. It is of no great depth: near the point where the Persians encamped, it seems to have been fordable in many places; but its right bank was somewhat high and steep, thus offering obstruction to an enemy’s attack. The Persians, marching forward from Zelia, took up a position near the eastern side of the Granicus, where the last declivities of Mount Ida descend into the plain of Adrastea, a Greek city, situated between Priapus and Parium.

Meanwhile Alexander marched onward towards this position, from Arisbe (where he had reviewed his army)--on the first day to Percote, on the second to the river Practius, on the third to Hermotus; receiving on his way the spontaneous surrender of the town of Priapus. Aware that the enemy was not far distant, he threw out in advance a body of scouts under Amyntas, consisting of four squadrons of light cavalry and one of the heavy Macedonian (companion) cavalry. From Hermotus (the fourth day from Arisbe) he marched towards the Granicus, in careful order, with his main phalanx in double files, his cavalry on each wing, and the baggage in the rear. On approaching the river, he made his dispositions for immediate attack, though Parmenion advised waiting until the next morning. Knowing well, like Memnon on the other side, that the chances of a pitched battle were all against the Persians, he resolved to leave them no opportunity of decamping during the night.

Alexander himself took the command of the right, giving that of the left to Parmenion; by right and left are meant the two halves of the army, each of them including three taxeis or divisions of the phalanx with the cavalry on its flank--for there was no recognised centre under a distinct command. On the other side of the Granicus, the Persian cavalry lined the bank. The Medes and Bactrians were on their right, under Rheomithres--the Paphlagonians and Hyrcanians in the centre, under Arsites and Spithridates--on the left were Memnon and Arsamenes with their divisions. The Persian infantry, both Asiatic and Grecian, were kept back in reserve; the cavalry alone being relied upon to dispute the passage of the river.

In this array, both parties remained for some time, watching each other in anxious silence. There being no firing or smoke, as with modern armies, all the details on each side were clearly visible to the other; so that the Persians easily recognised Alexander himself on the Macedonian right from the splendour of his armour and military costume, as well as from the respectful demeanour of those around him. Their principal leaders accordingly thronged to their own left, which they reinforced with the main strength of their cavalry, in order to oppose him personally. Presently he addressed a few words of encouragement to the troops, and gave the order for advance. He directed the first attack to be made by the squadron of companion-cavalry whose turn it was on that day to take the lead (the squadrons of Apollonia, of which Socrates was captain, commanded on this day by Ptolemæus son of Philippus), supported by the light horse or Lancers, the Pæonian darters (infantry), and one division of regularly armed infantry, seemingly hypaspists. He then himself entered the river, at the head of the right half of the army, cavalry and infantry, which advanced under sound of trumpets and with the usual war-shouts. As the occasional depths of water prevented a straightforward march with one uniform line, the Macedonians slanted their course suitably to the fordable spaces; keeping their front extended so as to approach the opposite bank as much as possible in line, and not in separate columns with flanks exposed to the Persian cavalry. Not merely the right under Alexander, but also the left under Parmenion, advanced and crossed in the same movement and under the like precautions.

The foremost detachment under Ptolemy and Amyntas, on reaching the opposite bank, encountered a strenuous resistance, concentrated as it was here upon one point. They found Memnon and his sons with the best of the Persian cavalry immediately in their front; some on the summit of the bank, from whence they hurled down their javelins--others down at the water’s edge, so as to come to closer quarters. The Macedonians tried every effort to make good their landing, and push their way by main force through the Persian horse, but in vain. Having both lower ground and insecure footing, they could make no impression, but were thrust back with some loss, and retired upon the main body which Alexander was now bringing across. On his approaching the shore, the same struggle was renewed around his person with increased fervour on both sides. He was himself among the foremost, and all near him were animated by his example. The horsemen on both sides became jammed together, and the contest was one of physical force and pressure by man and horse; but the Macedonians had a great advantage in being accustomed to the use of the strong close-fighting pike, while the Persian weapon was the missile javelin. At length the resistance was surmounted, and Alexander, with those around him, gradually thrusting back the defenders, made good their way up the high bank to the level ground. At other points the resistance was not equally vigorous. The left and centre of the Macedonians, crossing at the same time on all practicable spaces along the whole line, overpowered the Persians stationed on the slope, and got up to the level ground with comparative facility. Indeed no cavalry could possibly stand on the bank to offer opposition to the phalanx with its array of long pikes, wherever this could reach the ascent in any continuous front. The easy crossing of the Macedonians at other points helped to constrain those Persians, who were contending with Alexander himself on the slope, to recede to the level ground above.

Courage and Danger of Alexander

Here again, as at the water’s edge, Alexander was foremost in personal conflict. His pike having been broken, he turned to a soldier near him--Aretis, one of the horse-guards who generally aided him in mounting his horse--and asked for another. But this man, having broken his pike also, showed the fragment to Alexander, requesting him to ask some one else; upon which the Corinthian Demaratus, one of the companion-cavalry close at hand, gave him his weapon instead. Thus armed anew, Alexander spurred his horse forward against Mithridates (son-in-law of Darius), who was bringing up a column of cavalry to attack him, but was himself considerably in advance of it. Alexander thrust his pike into the face of Mithridates, and laid him prostrate on the ground: he then turned to another of the Persian leaders, Rhœsaces, who struck him a blow on the head with his scimitar, knocked off a portion of his helmet, but did not penetrate beyond. Alexander avenged this blow by thrusting Rhœsaces through the body with his pike. Meanwhile a third Persian leader, Spithridates, was actually close behind Alexander, with hand and scimitar uplifted to cut him down. At this critical moment, Clitus son of Dropides--one of the ancient officers of Philip, high in the Macedonian service--struck with full force at the uplifted arm of Spithridates and severed it from the body, thus preserving Alexander’s life. Other leading Persians, kinsmen of Spithridates, rushed desperately on Alexander, who received many blows on his armour, and was in much danger. But the efforts of his companions near were redoubled, both to defend his person and to second his adventurous daring. It was on that point that the Persian cavalry was first broken. On the left of the Macedonian line, the Thessalian cavalry also fought with vigour and success; and the light-armed foot, intermingled with Alexander’s cavalry generally, did great damage to the enemy. The rout of the Persian cavalry, once begun, speedily became general. They fled in all directions, pursued by the Macedonians.

But Alexander and his officers soon checked this ardour of pursuit, calling back their cavalry to complete his victory. The Persian infantry, Asiatics as well as Greeks, had remained without movement or orders, looking on the cavalry battle which had just disastrously terminated. To them Alexander immediately turned his attention. He brought up his phalanx and hypaspists to attack them in front, while his cavalry assailed on all sides their unprotected flanks and rear; he himself charged with the cavalry, and had a horse killed under him. His infantry alone was more numerous than they, so that against such odds the result could hardly be doubtful. The greater part of these mercenaries, after a valiant resistance, were cut to pieces on the field. We are told that none escaped, except two thousand made prisoners, and some who remained concealed in the field among the dead bodies.

In this complete and signal defeat, the loss of the Persian cavalry was not very serious in mere number, for only one thousand of them were slain. But the slaughter of the leading Persians, who had exposed themselves with extreme bravery in the personal conflict against Alexander, was terrible. There were slain not only Mithridates, Rhœsaces, Spithridates, whose names have been already mentioned, but also Pharnaces, brother-in-law of Darius, Mithrobarzanes satrap of Cappadocia, Atizyes, Niphates, Petines, and others; all Persians of rank and consequence. Arsites, the satrap of Phrygia, whose rashness had mainly caused the rejection of Memnon’s advice, escaped from the field, but died shortly afterwards by his own hand, from anguish and humiliation. The Persian or Perso-Grecian infantry, though probably more of them individually escaped than is implied in Arrian’s account, was as a body irretrievably ruined. No force was either left in the field, or could be afterwards reassembled in Asia Minor.

The loss on the side of Alexander is said to have been very small. Twenty-five of the companion-cavalry, belonging to the division under Ptolemy and Amyntas, were slain in the first unsuccessful attempt to pass the river. Of the other cavalry, sixty in all were slain; of the infantry, thirty. This is given to us as the entire loss on the side of Alexander. It is only the number of killed; that of the wounded is not stated; but assuming it to be ten times the number of killed, the total of both together will be 1265. If this be correct, the resistance of the Persian cavalry, except near that point where Alexander himself and the Persian chiefs came into conflict, cannot have been either serious or long protracted. But when we add farther the contest with the infantry, the smallness of the total assigned for Macedonian killed and wounded will appear still more surprising. The total of the Persian infantry is stated at nearly twenty thousand, most part of them Greek mercenaries. Of these only two thousand were made prisoners; nearly all the rest (according to Arrian) were slain. Now the Greek mercenaries were well armed, and not likely to let themselves be slain with impunity; moreover Plutarch expressly affirms that they resisted with desperate valour, and that most of the Macedonian loss was incurred in the conflict against them. It is not easy therefore to comprehend how the total number of slain can be brought within the statement of Arrian.

After the victory, Alexander manifested the greatest solicitude for his wounded soldiers, whom he visited and consoled in person. Of the twenty-five companions slain, he caused brazen statues, by Lysippus, to be erected at Dium in Macedonia, where they were still standing in the time of Arrian. To the surviving relatives of all the slain he also granted immunity from taxation and from personal service. The dead bodies were honourably buried, those of the enemy as well as of his own soldiers. The two thousand Greeks in the Persian service who had become his prisoners, were put in chains, and transported to Macedonia there to work as slaves; to which treatment Alexander condemned them on the ground that they had taken arms on behalf of the foreigner against Greece, in contravention of the general vote passed by the synod at Corinth. At the same time, he sent to Athens three hundred panoplies selected from the spoil, to be dedicated to Athene in the Acropolis with this inscription, “Alexander, son of Philip, and the Greeks except the Lacedæmonians (present these offerings), out of the spoils of the foreigners inhabiting Asia.” Though the vote to which Alexander appealed represented no existing Grecian aspiration, and granted only a sanction which could not be safely refused, yet he found satisfaction in clothing his own self-aggrandising impulse under the name of a supposed Panhellenic purpose: which was at the same time useful as strengthening his hold upon the Greeks, who were the only persons competent, either as officers or soldiers, to uphold the Persian empire against him. His conquests were the extinction of genuine Hellenism, though they diffused an exterior varnish of it, and especially the Greek language, over much of the oriental world. “True Grecian interests,” says Grote, “lay more on the side of Darius than of Alexander.”

EFFECTS OF ALEXANDER’S VICTORY

No victory could be more decisive or terror-striking than that of Alexander. There remained no force in the field to oppose him. The impression made by so great a public catastrophe was enhanced by two accompanying circumstances: first, by the number of Persian grandees who perished, realising almost the wailings of Atossa, Xerxes, and the Chorus, in the Persæ of Æschylus, after the battle of Salamis; next, by the chivalrous and successful prowess of Alexander himself, who, emulating the Homeric Achilles, not only rushed foremost into the mêlée, but killed two of these grandees with his own hand. Such exploits, impressive even when we read of them now, must at the moment when they occurred have acted most powerfully upon the imagination of the contemporaries.[f]

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