Affective Relations and Personal Bonds in Hellenistic Antiquity: Studies in Honor of Elizabeth D. Carney 9781789254983, 9781789254990

Table of contents :
Cover
Book title
Copyright
Contents
List of Figures
Introduction: Edward M. Anson, Monica D’Agostini and Frances Pownall
Part I: The Restricted Oikos
Familial Affection and Kinship
1. Alexander the Great and his Sisters: Blood in the Hellenistic Palace: Monica D’Agostini
2. Alexander’s Wet-Nurse Lanice and Her Sons: Sulochana Asirvatham
3. Olympias’ Pharmaka? Nature, Causes, Therapies and Physicians of Arrhidaeus’ Disease: Giuseppe Squillace
4. The Limits of Brotherly Love: Neoptolemus II and Molossian Dynastic History: Waldemar Heckel
Marriages and Family:Mistress, Wife and Daughter
5. Barsine, Antigone and the Macedonian War: Sabine Müller
6. Antipater and His Family: A Case Study: Franca Landucci
7. Romance and Rivalry? Three Case Studies of Royal Mothers and Daughters in the Hellenistic Age: Sheila Ager
Affection for Animals
8. Alexander’s Pets: Animals and the Macedonian Court: Elizabeth Baynham
9. The Theft of Bucephalas: Daniel Ogden
Part II: The Extended Oikos
Friendship within the Oikos
10. Alexander’s Friends: Joseph Roisman
11. Callisthenes the Prig: William Greenwalt
12. Friendship is Golden: Harpalus, Alexander and Athens: Timothy Howe
13. Mithridates Ctistes and Demetrius Poliorcetes: Erastes and Eromenos?: Pat Wheatley
Friendship beyond the Oikos
14. The Father of the Army: Alexander and the Epigoni: Edward M. Anson
15. Sophists and Flatterers: Greek Intellectuals at Alexander’s Court: Frances Pownall
16. Alexander the Great and the Athenians: Deification and Portraiture: Olga Palagia
Concluding Remarks: Frances Pownall, Edward M. Anson and Monica D’Agostini
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Affective Relations and Personal Bonds in Hellenistic Antiquity

Affective Relations and Personal Bonds in Hellenistic Antiquity Studies in Honor of Elizabeth D. Carney

edited by

Monica D’Agostini, Edward M. Anson and Frances Pownall

Oxford & Philadelphia

Published in the United Kingdom in 2021 by OXBOW BOOKS The Old Music Hall, 106–108 Cowley Road, Oxford OX4 1JE and in the United States by OXBOW BOOKS 1950 Lawrence Road, Havertown, PA 19083 © Oxbow Books and the individual contributors 2021 Hardback Edition: ISBN 978-1-78925-498-3 Digital Edition: ISBN 978-1-78925-499-0 (ePub) A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Control Number: 2020944060 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the publisher in writing. Printed in Malta by Gutenberg Press Typeset at Versatile PreMedia Service (P) Ltd For a complete list of Oxbow titles, please contact: UNITED KINGDOM Oxbow Books Telephone (01865) 241249 Email: [email protected] www.oxbowbooks.com

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA Oxbow Books Telephone (610) 853-9131, Fax (610) 853-9146 Email: [email protected] www.casemateacademic.com/oxbow

Oxbow Books is part of the Casemate Group Front cover: The Family of Darius before Alexander by Paolo Veronese (1528–1588) (https://commons. wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_Family_of_Darius_before_Alexander_by_Paolo_Veronese_ 1570.jpg).

Contents List of Figures������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������vii Introduction����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 1 Edward M. Anson, Monica D’Agostini and Frances Pownall Part I: The Restricted Oikos Familial Affection and Kinship 1. Alexander the Great and his Sisters: Blood in the Hellenistic Palace������������������ 19 Monica D’Agostini 2. Alexander’s Wet-Nurse Lanice and Her Sons����������������������������������������������������������� 37 Sulochana Asirvatham 3. Olympias’ Pharmaka? Nature, Causes, Therapies and Physicians of Arrhidaeus’ Disease������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 51 Giuseppe Squillace 4. The Limits of Brotherly Love: Neoptolemus II and Molossian Dynastic History������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 63 Waldemar Heckel Marriages and Family: Mistress, Wife and Daughter 5. Barsine, Antigone and the Macedonian War������������������������������������������������������������ 81 Sabine Müller 6. Antipater and His Family: A Case Study�������������������������������������������������������������������� 97 Franca Landucci 7. Romance and Rivalry? Three Case Studies of Royal Mothers and Daughters in the Hellenistic Age������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 111 Sheila Ager Affection for Animals 8. Alexander’s Pets: Animals and the Macedonian Court����������������������������������������� 127 Elizabeth Baynham 9. The Theft of Bucephalas�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 143 Daniel Ogden

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Contents

Part II: The Extended Oikos Friendship within the Oikos 10. Alexander’s Friends����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 165 Joseph Roisman 11. Callisthenes the Prig��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 187 William Greenwalt 12. Friendship is Golden: Harpalus, Alexander and Athens��������������������������������������� 195 Timothy Howe 13. Mithridates Ctistes and Demetrius Poliorcetes: Erastes and Eromenos?��������������213 Pat Wheatley Friendship beyond the Oikos 14. The Father of the Army: Alexander and the Epigoni�������������������������������������������� 227 Edward M. Anson 15. Sophists and Flatterers: Greek Intellectuals at Alexander’s Court��������������������� 243 Frances Pownall 16. Alexander the Great and the Athenians: Deification and Portraiture���������������267 Olga Palagia Concluding Remarks����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 285 Frances Pownall, Edward M. Anson and Monica D’Agostini

List of Figures Fig. 2.1 

J upiter as a child with the wet nurse and two warriors (Credit: agefotostock. nyc: https://www.agefotostock.com/age/en/Stock-Images/RightsManaged/DAE-11036633) Fig. 4.1  The Molossian Royal House Fig. 16.1 Unfinished bust of Alexander. Athens, Agora Museum S 2089. Photo: Olga Palagia Fig. 16.2 Unfinished bust of Alexander. Left profile. Athens, Agora Museum S 2089. Photo: Olga Palagia Fig. 16.3 Head of Alexander from Alexandria. London, British Museum 1857. Photo: Hans R. Goette Fig. 16.4 Bust of so-called Eubouleus from Eleusis. Athens National Museum 181. Photo: Olga Palagia Fig. 16.5 Head of Alexander from the Acropolis. Athens, Acropolis Museum 1331. Photo: Hans R. Goette Fig. 16.6 Head of Alexander from the Acropolis. Left profile. Athens, Acropolis Museum 1331. Photo: Hans R. Goette Fig. 16.7 Head from statue of Alexander from Magnesia on Sipylos. Istanbul Archaeological Museum 709. Photo: Hans R. Goette

Introduction

Edward M. Anson, Monica D’Agostini and Frances Pownall Affective relationships as a causative factor in history is a relatively new concept in ancient studies. In many respects this is a peculiar circumstance, since in truth antiquity lacked most of the modern structures that inhibit personal contact. Modern society is more individualistic and impersonal, and we have many relationships where we barely know our coworkers or our neighbors. Fredric Jameson (1991, 54) has proclaimed that in what is referred to as our postmodern age there is a “waning of affect.” It is not just the effects of online communication and the obsession with the web; impersonal institutions dominate government, business and culture. The current coronavirus pandemic has shown that despite our apparent acceptance of our individual and impersonal society, we are chafing at our self-quarantining, craving those very affective relationships our modern institutions have been curtailing. This was not the case in the ancient world. It could be easily argued that antiquity was an age of affective relationships. Even the briefest examination of ancient Greek history and institutions in general shows that personal relationships dictated the workings of society. Throughout the Classical Age government was by sovereign assemblies of voting citizens. Those with voting rights came together and determined the laws under which they would be governed. While in these societies the voting public was male and often propertied, these assemblies could still include thousands in populations rarely achieving 250,000.1 American democracy has 535 representatives legislatively representing 330 million people.2 Ancient warfare was also far more personal than its modern version. Hoplite warfare, which dominated the Classical Age, was such that opponents were literally so close to each other that For an estimation of Athenian population, likely the largest in the Classical world, and a critique of its determination, see Akrigg 2011, 37–59. 2 https://www.worldometers.info/world-population/us-population/. 1

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they could smell one another’s breath. Even archers could not exceed 175 meters.3 In comparison, with modern warfare death can be directed from half a world away using drones and missiles. What is often referred to as state diplomacy in antiquity is hardly the highly structured edifice of our world. There were no permanent foreign embassies in the various states (Perlman 1958, 187). In the United States there are roughly 13,000 professionals in the Foreign Service, most of whom are civil service employees and therefore “career bureaucrats hired on professional merit rather than appointed or elected” (https://careers.state.gov/learn/what-we-do/mission/). These individuals serve under the authority of the United States’ Secretary of State, whose upper administration includes two deputies, six under-secretaries, 24 assistant secretaries, and a few directors and coordinators (https://careers.state.gov/learn/what-we-do/ organization/). In Classical Greece, at a formal level, states established connections with foreign governments through local individuals who represented the foreign state’s interest in a relationship between the two states. This was called proxenia.4 Here a state would contract a relationship with a proxenos, a person representing the interests of the contracting state in their own community (Antiphon fr. 67). These were usually prominent individuals who took active roles in the political life of their own cities. These individuals were not, however, supposed to be foreign agents who were to sacrifice the interests of their homeland to accommodate the contracting party. In the words of Plato (Leg. 642b), “Stranger of Athens, you are not, perhaps, aware that our family is, in fact, a ‘proxenos’ of your state. It is probably true of all children that, when once they have been told that they are ‘proxenoi’ of a certain state, they conceive an affection for that state even from infancy, and each of them regards it as a second mother-land, next after his own country.” The duty of this individual was to look out for the interests of the contracting state. For the rendering of such services a proxenos could expect some reciprocation, which could include citizenship, immunity from taxation, right of access to the contracting community at any time, and front seats at events in that community (GHI 55, 56). These relationships were formalized in decrees by the city-states and most often seen as hereditary (Xen. Hell. 6.3.4). In the case of these city-states, it was assemblies that usually established these relationships formally, but in Macedonia it was the king who determined who would be proxenoi for the Macedonian state and, therefore, act in fact in the king’s interests in the various governments in the Greek world. Treaties were made with the king, not technically with the Macedonians.5 The monarch was the state.6 In this situation proxenoi were in fact xenoi or guest-friends. Philip established numbers of personal alliances with key individuals and families throughout the Greek world. The elites of the various communities certainly from the Archaic Age and continuing into the McLeod 1965, 14. On proxenia in general, see Perlman 1958, 185–91; Anson 2020, 93–96. 5 GHI 30 l. 3, 50 ll. 9, 11, 12, 67 1: l. 23, 76 ll. 5, 10–11. 6 Anson 2013, 42–43. 3 4

Introduction

3

4th century established relations based on the institution of xenia, guest-friendship. Proxenia was a more formal and state-oriented form of this ancient practice. Xenia was a form of hospitality which established reciprocal, hereditary relationships between individuals and families in which significant services would be provided as a matter of courtesy.7 These services could be as little as personal generosity or more importantly the providing of political or military support (Mitchell 2002, 13). Affective relationships were also critical in Philip II of Macedonia’s creation of the Macedonian state. Traditionally, Macedonia was a land where the king was in theory an autocrat, but in practice had no bureaucracy and was dependent on a class of land-owning aristocrats, the king’s hetairoi, his Companions. These individuals made up the king’s government. These hetairoi, mostly native Macedonian aristocrats who owed their status to their birth, were in a very real sense the government (Stagakis 1970, 86–102). They acted as the king’s ambassadors, military commanders, governors, religious representatives and personal advisers. Their relationship, however, with the king was regarded by them as personal, not institutional. The hetairoi were formally tied to the monarch by religious and social bonds; they sacrificed to the gods, hunted and drank with the king, and fought alongside him. There was even a religious festival, the Hetairideia, honoring Zeus Hetairides, celebrating the relationship of the king and his hetairoi (Athen. 13.572d–e). Prior to the reign of Philip, the Macedonian army, whether cavalry or light infantry (Macedonia had no heavy infantry of note), was in effect under the control of members of the king’s hetairoi. The cavalry was made up of the younger members of the aristocratic families and the infantry was raised by the aristocrats from their dependent retainers. One aspect of this very personal relationship was the fairly common assassination of Macedonian kings by disgruntled Macedonian hetairoi. Archelaus (Arist. Pol. 1311b 11–12),8 Amyntas II (Arist. Pol. 1311b 4),9 Pausanias (Diod. 14.89.2), Alexander II (Diod. 15.71.1; Marsyas of Pella BNJ 135/6 F 11=Athen. 14.629d) and Philip II himself (Diod. 16.93–94) were all killed in palace conspiracies of highly personal natures. Philip transformed the Macedonian monarchy and the country itself by expanding this basic personal relationship between king and landed aristocrats. He created a new Macedonian heavy infantry force and bound these individuals to him through his creation of the pezhetairoi, the Foot-Companions. He tied these formerly landless tenants and dependent pastoralists to his monarchy through gifts of land. By this action he freed these individuals from their previous dependency on the local landed aristocrat and made them grateful for their new status as independent landowners. He further included his new landowners who now also peopled his new model army in the formerly exclusive aristocratic relationship by calling these individuals his Companions. Alexander often summoned these troops for sacrificial events On guest friendship and city-state politics, see Herman 1987; Mitchell 2002. It is also possible that Archelaus’ death was due to an accident (Diod. 14.37.6) 9 Orestes, the son of Archelaus, is also reported to have been killed by his guardian (Diod. 14.37.6), but Eusebius does not list Orestes in his listing of “the Kings of the Macedonians.” 7 8

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(Arr. Anab. 1.18. 2; 2.5.8; 3.5.2; 5.20.1; 6.28.3), which often included athletic competitions (Arr. Anab. 2.5.8; 3.5.2; 5.20.1). Before the assembled troops he would also honor particular soldiers with rewards (Arr. Anab. 2.12.1). In the case of Philip, he typically led the pezhetairoi directly in combat (Diod. 16.4.5, 86.1). Macedonia was a state by tradition and through Philip II’s reforms was moulded into one in which affective relationships dominated; much of this tradition was carried over into the Hellenistic Age. Because of the very personal nature of the exercise of power, the Argead courts of Philip and Alexander can be seen as analogous to the oikos, or the household, the building block of ancient Greek society.10 The roots of the highly-developed networks of personal relations through which eventually the Hellenistic kings exercised power are to be found in the affective relationships that Philip and Alexander established in both the restricted oikos and the extended oikos of the Argead court. The oikos was a much larger unit than the modern nuclear family, including not only the husband, wife and their children, but also dependent members of the extended family (including aged parents and unmarried, divorced or orphaned relatives), adopted children or wards, friends, workers, slaves and even the household animals. The male head (the kyrios) was responsible for the overall security and sustenance of the household and regulated all of the relationships within it; even so, other members of the oikos could and did exercise influence in certain areas. Although the courts of Philip and Alexander operated necessarily on a much larger scale than the oikos of the Classical Greek polis, the basic structure was the same.11 The king served as the nucleus of the Macedonian court, much like the kyrios of the oikos, positioned at the center of a complicated network of relationships that radiated out from his extended family through his inner circle to his entourage to his army and finally to his subjects. Nevertheless, as with the oikos, the social structure of the Argead court was not necessarily always top-down and one-way, and various members of this network were able to manipulate the power dynamic through their affective bonds with the king. This volume examines the courts of Philip and Alexander through this analogy, attempts to establish the nature of those relationships, and investigates how they influenced the complex history of the Hellenistic Age. In this field, while the nature and structure of societies and the mechanisms of their historical transformations have often been objects of investigation, little has been written about the role of intimate and personal bonds in Macedonian and post-Macedonian monarchies. Previous scholarship has mostly focused on describing the structure and functioning of monarchical institutions, or on analysing the strategic and tactical dimensions of ancient historical events and political affairs. One important exception, however, to this lack of focus upon the role of the personal in Hellenistic history is the scholarship of Elizabeth Carney. By rejecting the perception of the Macedonian monarchy as a positivist king-army based system, and by looking for other political and social 10 11

On the concept of the oikos in Classical Greece, see, e.g., Cox 1998 and Patterson 1998. Cf. Weber (2009, 84), who views Alexander’s court as an extended house (oikos), providing “an organizational framework for the exercise of power” (90).

Introduction

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structures she has played a crucial role in prompting the current re-appraisal of the Macedonian monarchy. Her volume on Women and Monarchy in Ancient Macedonia (2000) has been a game-changer in the field and has offered the academic world a completely new perspective on the network of relationships surrounding the exercise of power. By examining Macedonian and Hellenistic dynastic behavior and relations, she has shown the political yet tragic, heroic thus human side, finding a point of connection between Hellenistic history and social history. To put it succinctly, in the ancient world it was almost always personal. With the analogy of the oikos in mind, the essays in the volume explore further the two main directions taken by Elizabeth Carney’s research. The papers in “The Restricted Oikos” attempt to identify the features of the affective relations between the king and the members of his family, whereas those in “The Extended Oikos” examine the extra-familial networks surrounding the exercise of power at the courts of Philip and Alexander.12 The first section builds on the influential monographs of Elizabeth Carney: Women and Monarchy in Ancient Macedonia (2000), which opened the path to Olympias, Mother of Alexander the Great (2006), Arsinoe of Egypt and Macedon: A Royal Life (2013) and Eurydice and the Birth of Macedonian Power (2019). Beginning with Olympias and continuing through the study of other royal women, Carney brought to life the world behind the curtains of the Hellenistic political stage, “an entire category of people and activities that had either been ignored or, more often, trivialized” (Carney 2015, x). As keepers of the oikos (Carney 2012), the female members of the family bore political weight, which crucially affected their and their kin’s lives. Under the sacral and traditional rule of the Argeads, Ancient Macedonia was shaped by a clan structure, where blood ties, affective bonds and political partnership intertwined and overlapped. Motherhood, sisterhood and marriage defined the role of individuals connected to the Argeads – such as Arrhidaeus, Olympias, Eurydice, Phila, Alexander the Lyncestian – and also directed their agency and their loyalty. The papers in “The Restricted Oikos” address the meandering connections between kinship, affection and political cooperation. In this section, we have deliberately chosen to avoid the fraught father-son relationship between Philip and Alexander and the intense bonds between Alexander and his “difficult” mother Olympias, both of which have been extensively discussed in recent scholarship.13 Instead, the authors examine topics of family relations that remain under-explored, beginning with an investigation of the family relations that contributed to the development and training of the monarch during his formative years by those with whom he experienced the closest bonds of affection. Monica D’Agostini’s “Alexander’s Brothers and Sisters: Blood in the These categories are similar but not identical to Weber’s (2009, 85) division of Alexander’s court into an “inner court,” comprising the family of the ruler and the social elite with whom he interacted, and an “outer” court comprising bureaucrats, civil servants, diplomats and visitors whose roles were more formally defined. 13 See, e.g., the essays contained in Carney and Ogden 2010 (Philip and Alexander); Carney 2006 and 2009 (Olympias). 12

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Hellenistic Palace” develops Carney’s (2000) remarks that bonding relations among siblings were a cohesive strategy of the ruling genos. The relation between Alexander and his sisters and stepsisters offers a clear example. Alexander prevented his sisters Cleopatra, Thessalonice and Cynnane from creating new political units and, in so doing, was supported by the personal bonds forged and preserved by Olympias. Building also on the relationships fostered by his mother, Alexander’s attitude towards Cynnane and Thessalonice protected the basileia from usurpation claims perpetrated via his female kin. With Cleopatra, however, Alexander instead engendered a political collaboration out of their strong affective connection. Alexander kept his full sister bonded to his own oikos, and, as long as he was alive, her personal relationship with him shaped her agency more than the identity patterns linked to her kinship or to the Macedonian tradition. The family also included those closely related to the raising of the heir. Sulochana Asirvatham (“Alexander’s Wet-Nurse Lanice and Her Sons”) shows that wet-nurses were generally considered to contribute to their charges’ moral as well as physical development. Alexander’s wet-nurse, Lanice, understandably escaped history’s oblivion for she was linked with later actions of the king. Unlike most wet-nurses, Lanice was a Macedonian elite woman. She had her own children who followed Alexander and died at Miletus. However, the connection of Alexander with Lanice’s sons survived in several of the ancient sources, reflecting both the romanticizing and the judgmental aspects of ancient discourse that surrounded the practice of wet-nursing. Some of the ancient sources (Arrian and Curtius) sublimated the bond among the king, the wet-nurse and her children by associating them with divine “protectors” of the king. But some sources interested in a more sensationalist version saw Lanice as the mother of one drunk, her son Proteas, and the nurse of another, Alexander. Another negative interpretation of a familial bond can be found in the charge that Olympias was responsible for her stepson Arrhidaeus’ affliction. As Elizabeth Carney has already shown, however, it is unlikely that Olympias caused Arrhidaeus’ disability by means of her pharmaka (Carney 2001). Building on her remarks, in “Olympias’ Pharmaka? Nature, Causes, Therapies and Physicians of Arrhidaeus’ Disease”, Giuseppe Squillace argues that Arrhidaeus was affected by epilepsy, which might have been stabilized by the physician Menecrates of Syracuse. He came to the court to heal Antipater’s son, and might have been later engaged by Philip II to cure his own son. Waldemar Heckel also focuses on the fate of another unlucky royal son and heir. “The Limits of Brotherly Love: Neoptolemus II and Molossian Dynastic History” illustrates the difficult Epirote succession in the years that followed the death of Alexander the Molossian, brother-in-law of Alexander the Great. The personal bonds within the party of his grandmother Olympias protected the royal infant heir Neoptolemus II and allowed him to survive the turbulent years following his father’s death, but his blood made him a pawn of his Macedonian neighbor, for his support had faded with the disappearance of his closest familial relations. After being restored as king of Epirus in 302, he was eventually murdered by his co-ruler and relative Pyrrhus: the shared blood made the two co-kings, but also rivals.

Introduction

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The topic of Argead royal women as succession advocates and public representatives of their dynasty has been carefully examined by Elizabeth Carney herself (and others).14 Therefore, we have avoided the topic of Argead marriage policy to focus upon relationships that have not received the same kind of scrutiny. The following three chapters deal with the role women played in the clan structure of Alexander’s basileia and of the Hellenistic monarchies, showing how the personal ties they had within the clan defined female agency (Carney 1995; 2016; 2019). In “Barsine, Antigone, and the Macedonian War,” Sabine Müller explores the familial ties of the Persian clans during the Macedonians’ expansion into the East, and stresses the female role in the context of the (psychological) warfare. Alexander’s troops took noble women as captives, but treated them differently. After the battle of Ipsus, Barsine, daughter of the former satrap Artabazus, widow of Memnon of Rhodes, and sister of the Persian general Pharnabazus, was caught by Parmenion and his troops in Damascus where she had been expected to be safe. Thereafter, her “love affair” with Alexander became public. At the same time, the Macedonian Antigone, also taken captive in Damascus, became the mistress of Philotas, Parmenion’s son. Their fate was determined by their personal bonds: the men with whom they were associated were crucial figures of the Persian resistance to the Macedonian invasion. Philotas took Antigone as his mistress because her former captor (Autophradates) was among the most dangerous enemies of Macedonia, and Alexander took Barsine, key female figure of his enemy Artabazus’ house. Although the philo-Macedonian sources stress Alexander’s love for Barsine, the war context suggests that the king took her as his mistress to disgrace her in an attempt to politically compromise the enemy clan. Barsine became a token of victory and a key element of the threatening gesture directed against her family. It will be no coincidence that Pharnabazus (Barsine’s brother) and Autophradates continued the Persian counterattack in the Aegean Sea after the death of Memnon, who initiated it and tried to gain back Persian control over the area. The relation between women and the members of their family is also a determinant in “Antipater and His Family: A Case Study.” Franca Landucci explores the political ties fostered by Antipater, governor of Macedonia, in the wake of Alexander’s death via his daughters, Phila, Nicaea and Eurydice. These ties allowed the Antipatrid bloodline to merge with the family of the Hellenistic rulers, Lysimachus, Demetrius Poliorcetes and Ptolemy, just as they sealed fruitful political-military alliances in aristocratic and archaic Macedonian society. All these marriages profoundly marked the fates of those who contracted them. Among Antipater’s grandsons, Agathocles, son of Nicaea and Lysimachus, was executed by order of his father, and Ptolemy Ceraunus, son of Eurydices and Ptolemy I, was repudiated by his father who favored Ptolemy II, his son by Berenice. The case of Phila, the wife of Demetrius, however, illustrates effectively the relevance of the father-daughter connection, which resonated beyond their blood tie. She is the heir of the positive legacy of her father, for she purportedly 14

See, e.g., Carney 2000; 2017; 2018; Mirón Pérez 2000; Müller 2011.

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was portrayed as the wisest of the daughters, carrier of the Macedonian traditional moderation, which eventually resulted in the kingship of her son, Antigonus Gonatas. Marriage, however, appears to have a different impact on the mother-daughter emotional relationship from the father-daughter dynamic in the Hellenistic age. Sheila Ager observes that the daughter’s marriage brings about the separation of the familial unit and the affective bond, and might cause emotional loss. The strength of this bond can be inferred by the absence of cases of murder among mothers and daughters, in the otherwise bloody Hellenistic royal scene. “Romance and Rivalry? Three Case Studies of Royal Mothers and Daughters in the Hellenistic Age” collects rare cases of political/sexual rivalry. The royal women Eurydice and Eurynoe, Apame and Berenice, Cleopatra II and Cleopatra III all found themselves in a sexual rivalry between parent and offspring. This was caused by one of the mother-daughter pair having an affair with the husband of the other. This occurrence had a disruptive effect on the sacred relation bonding mother and daughter, and compromised the Hellenistic familial structure. It could be therefore assimilated to one of the most repellent forms of incest, argues Ager. Animals can also be considered as part of the oikos as both wild and domestic animals could be companions or pets. Domesticated animals were used on farms, in warfare, in sport and entertainment, as well as in religious rites and magic. They were involved in those sharing experiences crucial for the creation and development of personal bonds among the Macedonian establishment. The relationship of human and animal, and the role played by animals in shaping human relationships, is the focus of the chapters “Alexander’s Pets: Animals and the Macedonian Court” and “The Theft of Bucephalas.” In the former, Elizabeth Baynham investigates the animals Alexander owned personally, considering the importance of their companionship, and the emotional and personal bond these animals offered their owner – as well as the potential for such a connection to touch a wider audience. Alexander likely had several animals, but was closely associated with three – two dogs, Peritas and Triakes, and a horse, Bucephalas. Their relationship was developed in a military and hunting environment, where horses in particular offered not only companionship, but partnership to the king. The sources are all consistent in stressing the affection of Alexander for his “pets,” not just his convenient use of them. The connection between Alexander and Bucephalas, just as in a considerably lesser version with the dog Peritas, was recognized and honored by ancient writers. Notably, there is no negative tradition on Alexander’s bond with his horse which, as noted by Baynham, cannot be said for Alexander’s human nearest and dearest. Daniel Ogden further investigates the narrative of Bucephalas. The strong affection between Alexander and his horse offered material for fictive tradition which merged the historical with the fantastical. Among the analysed episodes, Bucephalas’ theft by the Mardians and Alexander’s procreative encounter with Thalestris, the Amazon queen, reflect a disaggregated and partly rationalised version of a traditional story-type attested in Herodotus’ tale of Heracles and the Scythian Echidna and in the Shahnameh’s tale

Introduction

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of Rostam and Tamineh. Articulated in many historical episodes, the bond between Alexander and Bucephalas grew beyond them, as part of the Alexander myth. The second section (“The Extended Oikos”) is inspired by Carney’s scholarship on the Hellenistic court, which was partially collected, updated and republished in her volume King and Court in Ancient Macedonia (2015). Since her dissertation on Alexander the Great and the Macedonian aristocracy and throughout her subsequent publications, Carney has dealt with the relations bonding the Macedonian elite with the royal house, shedding light on the complex dynamics of affective and political interaction among the establishment that came to rule the known world for several centuries. The keyword that regulates relations among the members of the leading class, Macedonian and non-Macedonian, is “friendship.” Once again, we have attempted to avoid the oft-studied questions of Alexander the Great’s bond with his Companions, the Macedonian elite,15 or his alleged sexual relationship with Hephaestion,16 in order to focus upon personal connections that have been under-explored in modern scholarship. In the first contribution to the section Friendship within the Oikos, Joseph Roisman (“Alexander’s Friends”) provides an analysis of the evidence for Alexander’s friends, the meaning of his friendship in light of Aristotle’s discussion of philia (friendship and love) and the creation, termination and revival of friendship among the king’s fellows. According to the king’s teacher, equality was an essential element of friendship for it guarantees the relationship to be mutually beneficial, pleasant and useful. Aristotle, however, claims that friendship exists also between the king and his subjects, although it has an unequal nature. Alexander’s friends fostered their friendship via shared experiences for they were involved in both equal activities, such as the hunt, and hierarchical ones. Given the unequal nature of the relationship, it was Alexander who started, cultivated and ended the bond. This caused rivalry among the king’s friends for the king’s affection, hence political feuds among them. The court network could play a role in becoming friends with the king, for it provided physical access and shared time with Alexander, yet there were other key factors in the friendship that bonded the king to his countrymen. The ties could be marked by a utilitarian nature or by strong affective component, sustained by a sense of loyalty and of mutual support, by seeing eye to eye with the king on the matters that were relevant to him. These were also crucial elements to restore friendship as well as to end it for good, as shown by the case of Callisthenes, whose relationship with Alexander broke when and because the historian did not support the king’s political views. By exploring this case in “Callisthenes the Prig,” William Greenwalt considers the impact of shared moral ideas in the preservation of personal relationships. The Macedonian establishment who accompanied Alexander in the Eastern expedition was held together by rituals, such as the hunt, that engendered and strengthened the personal ties ruling the 15 16

See, e.g., Heckel 2003; 2016; Müller 2003; cf. Badian 2000. See, e.g., Reames-Zimmerman 1999 and Ogden 2011, 155–67. Müller (2018) has challenged the traditional assumption that their relationship was a homoerotic one.

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army. A communal moral outlook supported the bonds between the king, his court and his army. Yet, when Alexander incorporated non-Macedonians into the army, he also introduced non-Macedonian protocols into court rituals. Although politically Callisthenes supported the king, as the most prestigious historian of Alexander’s Anabasis, he morally reacted to Alexander’s innovations. The intellectual considered his Greek stand to be superior and would not abase himself to Persian practices. His rebellion compromised his political position, for shared moral ideas were at the base of personal relationships ruling Alexander’s basileia. The mutinous impact of Callisthenes’ stand was mirrored in Hermolaus’ uprising and the conspiracy of the Pages. In the Argead monarchy there could be no space for (priggish) intellectual rebellion for it undermined Alexander’s political policies, and hence his authority. A friendship based on a strong affective bond, on the other hand, was fostered between Harpalus and Alexander, despite their apparent divergence. The chapter “Friendship is Golden: Harpalus, Alexander and Athens” by Timothy Howe demonstrates the consistency of Alexander’s attitude towards his friend Harpalus, who had important administrative and policy appointments as Alexander’s treasurer and early counsellor. However, although he was a close friend of Alexander since childhood, Harpalus is remembered instead as a weak-minded betrayer, overwhelmed by personal greed and sexual depravity. By moving beyond the negative misinterpretation of Harpalus’ actions derived from post-Alexander interpolation, Howe shows that Harpalus did not betray his friendship with Alexander. The king did not seem to be unhappy with Harpalus’ initiative in 334, when he was welcomed back from a trip to Greece and entrusted with great responsibility. The case was similar in 324, when Harpalus used Persian gold, like his predecessors Timocrates and Conon, to divide the Greeks and keep Athens from uniting the Hellenes against a common enemy. Although he likely acted on his own at least in 324, Harpalus’ motive was to support his life-long friend and king, for both affective and utilitarian reasons. The result was indeed unwavering friendship from Alexander, who imprisoned those who slandered him, but also undying hatred from the Athenians. The following chapter also discusses the strength and impact of juvenile friendship within the royal oikos, although it moves beyond Alexander’s era into the age of the Successors. According to Pat Wheatley’s study “Demetrius and Mithridates Ctistes: Erastes and Eromenos?” the close relationship, perhaps a love affair, between Demetrius Poliorcetes and Mithridates Ctistes was the cause of the latter’s flight from Antigonus Monophthalmus, but also of his survival. Their personal bond could be hardly viewed as positive by Antigonus the One-Eyed, who thus planned the elimination of the Persian nobleman. Learning from his father that his friend, the young Mithridates, was to be executed on account of a paranoid prophetic dream, Demetrius drew him aside one day and inscribed on the ground with the butt of his lance the words “Φεῦγε, Μιθριδάτα!” Mithridates comprehended his peril, and vanished that night, later to fight against the Antigonids at the crucial battle of Ipsus in 301 BC, and become Mithridates I Ctistes (Founder), the first king of Pontus.

Introduction

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The friendship was strong enough to compel the Besieger to break his father’s command and warn his loved one, performing an uncharacteristic act of disobedience to Antigonus the One-Eyed. The affective relationship allowed Mithridates to escape his fate and found the kingdom of Pontus. Notably, Mithridates was the only male affective partner of Demetrius that did not disappear from the historical record, perhaps intentionally. Alexander’s management of relationships with his people, Macedonian and non-Macedonian, foreign communities and leaders is the focus of the final group of papers, Friendship Beyond the Oikos. The personal bond was a diplomatic and managerial instrument for and of Macedonian society. Alexander strengthened this strategy, for informally and formally he relied on personal ties to structure his multi-ethnic and multi-cultural basileia, politically, militarily and diplomatically. The relevance of the personal relationship in Alexander’s rule is explored by Edward Anson in the chapter “The Father of the Army: Alexander and the Epigoni.” During his Asiatic expedition, Alexander came to understand that, if his ambitions for further conquest were to be realized, he would need a different army, for the traditions of Macedonia could limit his ambitions. He began to build a personal army, bonded to him directly, rather than a national force that was imbued with the traditions of Macedonia, or with any other national ones either. He wanted to alter his relationship with his army and retain a core of Macedonian veterans, but where possible to replace these with troops from his new subjects. The marriages at Susa as well as the creation of Iranian battalions and the incorporation of Iranians into certain Macedonian units were planned in the interest of the administration of his empire and future military operations. Alexander’s policy at the court and in the army, now comprising Iranians and Macedonians, was meant to make them more united, as well as more personally loyal to him. The chapters by Frances Pownall and Olga Palagia deal with the importance of personal relationships in the diplomatic dialogue between basileia and Greek institutions. In “Sophists and Flatterers: Greek Intellectuals at Alexander’s Court” the presence of Greek scholars and artists at Alexander’s court is reconsidered. The Macedonian kings traditionally employed respected intellectual and cultural figures to underpin their self-fashioning as legitimate monarchs. The relationship they came to establish with the rulers provided them with wealth, but could also translate into tangible political and economic benefits for their home poleis, and into an opportunity to advance their careers and enhance their personal prestige. Moreover, via these friendships the Macedonian king could gain diplomatic advantages in his often-tense relations with the Greek city-states. Alexander followed and enhanced his predecessors’ strategy, and established personal relationships with many intellectuals who played a crucial role in the shaping of his image. However, since their fate was bonded to the strength of their personal relationship with the king, the atmosphere of the Macedonian court was very competitive due to the rivalry among scholars and artists. This competition was also embittered by the polemical debate among different philosophical movements, and eventually offered ground to the Roman imperial tradition for anecdotes which

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portray the intellectually-rich and heterogeneous group of literati who accompanied Alexander on his expedition as a despicable cluster of sophists and flatterers. Finally, Olga Palagia explores further the impact of personal bonds on the diplomatic relationship of Alexander with the Greeks, specifically the Athenians, with regard to the issue of his deification. In “Alexander and the Athenians: Deification and Portraiture,” it is shown that the Athenians promoted their political ties with the king via the erection of portraits. At least two of these portraits are documented by the ancient sources; in addition, two marble portraits have come to light in excavations in the Agora and the Athenian Acropolis. Palagia argues that the bust in the Athenian Agora is a Roman copy of Alexander’s cult statue erected in 324/3, and reflects his exalted status as an equal to the gods. In the Hellenistic kingdoms Alexander’s Diadochs also produced images of the deified Alexander in order to foster their relationship with the king as the ultimate source of their power and legitimacy. This is the case with the famous marble head of Alexander from the Acropolis, usually thought to reflect a lifetime portrait; instead it belongs to a posthumous portrait, also showing a divinized Alexander. It was dedicated by the Attalids on the Acropolis in the 2nd century BC and associated with their dynastic cult due to the very special relationship Attalus I and his sons Eumenes II and Attalus II developed with Athens. In the reign of Alexander, affective relationships in the political, administrative and diplomatic environments were a crucial asset for the king to manage and control his basileia. In order to reinforce his authority in the army, the administration, and the political factions, Macedonian and non-Macedonian, Alexander increasingly entrusted with political, military and diplomatic responsibility roles those who were strictly tied to him personally. These personal relationships were mainly built on the affective component, sustained by a sense of loyalty and mutual support. Political alliances were engendered not only because of a common utilitarian goal, but because of a communal political vision built on shared experiences, sympathetic interactions, moral agreement, and a like-minded attitude towards policy-making. And king Alexander was the core of this. The basileia was a personal matter, and personal relationships were its structural roots. These, rather than blood ties, proved to be the successful and determinant factors in Alexander’s succession and in the creation of the Hellenistic world of the Epigoni. Two hundred years later, the Hellenistic monarchs still stressed loyalty to Alexander in order to support their legitimacy claims via the artificial design of a personal bond with the king.

Bibliography

Akrigg, B. (2011) Demography and classical Athens. In C. Holeran and A. Pudsy (eds) Demography and the Graeco-Roman World: New Insights and Approaches, 37–59. Cambridge and New York, Cambridge University Press. Anson, E. (2013) Alexander the Great: Themes and Issues. London, Bloomsbury. Anson, E. (2020) Philip II, The Father of Alexander the Great: Themes and Issues. London, New York, Sydney and New Delhi, Bloomsbury Academic.

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Badian, E. (2000) Conspiracies. In A.B. Bosworth and E.J. Baynham (eds) Alexander the Great in Fact and Fiction, 50–95. Oxford and New York, Oxford University Press. Cox, C.A. (1998) Household Interests: Property, Marriage Strategies, and Family Dynamics in Ancient Athens. Princeton, Princeton University Press. Heckel, W. (2003) Kings and “companions”: observations on the nature of power in the reign of Alexander. In J. Roisman (ed.) Brill’s Companion to Alexander the Great, 197–225. Leiden and Boston, Brill. Heckel, W. (2016) Alexander’s Marshals. 2nd ed. London, Routledge. Herman, G. (1987) Ritualised Friendship and the Greek City. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Jameson, F. (1991) Postmodernism, or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism, 1–54. Durham, NC, Duke University Press. McLeod, W. (1965) The range of the ancient bow. Phoenix 19, 1–14. Mirón Pérez, M.D. (2000) Transmitters and representatives of power: royal woman in ancient Macedonia. Ancient Society 30, 35–52. Mitchell, L. (2002) Greeks Bearing Gifts: The Public Use of Private Relationships in the Greek World, 435–323 BC. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Müller, S. (2003) Massnahmen der Herrschaftssicherung gegenüber der makedonischen Opposition bei Alexander dem Grossen. Frankfurt, P. Lang. Müller, S. (2011) Oikos, Prestige und wirtschaftliche Handlungsräume von Argeadinnen und hellenistischen Königinnen. In J.E. Fries and U. Rambuscheck (eds) Von wirtschaftlicher Macht und militärische Stärke, 95–114. Münster, Waxman. Müller, S. (2018) Hephaistion – a re-assessment of his career. In F. Pownall and T. Howe (eds) Ancient Macedonia in the Greek and Roman Sources: From History to Historiography, 77–102. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. Ogden, D. (2011) Alexander the Great: Myth, Genesis and Sexuality. Exeter, Exeter University Press. Patterson, C. (1998) The Family in Greek History. Cambridge, Harvard University Press. Perlman, S. (1958) A note on the political implications of proxenia in the fourth century BC. Classical Quarterly 8, 185–91. Reames-Zimmerman, J. (1999) An atypical affair? Alexander the Great, Hephaistion Amyntoros and the nature of their relationship. Ancient History Bulletin 13, 81–96. Stagakis, G.S. (1970) Observations on the Hetairoi of Alexander the Great. In B. Laourdas and Ch. Makaronas (eds) Ancient Macedonia I. Papers Read at the First International Symposium Held in Thessaloniki, August 26–29, 1968, 86–102. Thessaloniki, Institute of Balkan Studies. Weber, G. The court of Alexander as social system. In W. Heckel and L.A. Tritle (eds) Alexander the Great: A New History, 83–96. Malden, MA, Wiley-Blackwell.

Works of Elizabeth Carney Books

(2000) Women and Monarchy in Ancient Macedonia. Norman, OK, University of Oklahoma Press. (2006) Olympias, Mother of Alexander the Great. London and New York, Routledge. (2010) Philip II and Alexander the Great: Father and Son, Lives and Afterlives. Co-edited with Daniel Ogden. New York, Oxford University Press. (2013) Arsinoe of Egypt and Macedon: A Royal Life. New York, Oxford University Press. (2015) King and Court in Macedonia: Rivalry, Treason and Conspiracy. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. (2018) Royal Women and Dynastic Loyalty. Co-edited with Caroline Dunn. London, Palgrave. (2019) Eurydice and the Birth of Macedonian Power. New York, Oxford University Press.

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(1980) Alexander the Lyncestian: the disloyal opposition. Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 20, 23–33. (1981) The conspiracy of Hermolaus. Classical Journal 76, 223–31. (1981) The first flight of Harpalus, again. Classical Journal 76, 9–11. (1981) The death of Clitus. Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies 22, 149–60. (1983) Regicide in Macedonia. Parola del Passato 211, 260–72. (1984) Fact and fiction in ‘Queen Eleanor’s Confession’ (Childe No. 156). Folklore 95, 167–70. (1986) City-Founding in the Aeneid. Latomus 196, 422–30. (1987) The career of Adea-Eurydice. Historia 36, 496–502. (1987) Olympias. Ancient Society 18, 35–62. (1987) The reappearance of royal sibling marriage in Ptolemaic Egypt. Parola del Passato 237, 420–39. (1988) Eponymous women: royal women and city names. Ancient History Bulletin 2.6, 134–42. (1988) The sisters of Alexander the Great: royal relicts. Historia 37, 385–404. (1988) Reginae in the Aeneid. Athenaeum 66, 427–45. (1991) Review essay on Macedonian history. Ancient History Bulletin 5, 179–89. (1991) The female burial in the antechamber of Tomb II at Vergina. Ancient World 22.2, 17–26. (1992) The politics of polygamy: Olympias, Alexander, and the murder of Philip. Historia 40.2, 169–189. (1992) Tomb I at Vergina and the meaning of the Great Tumulus as an historical monument. Archaeological News 17, 1–11. (1993) Foreign influence and the changing role of royal women in Macedonia. Ancient Macedonia 5.1, 313–23. (1993) Olympias and the image of the virago. Phoenix 47, 29–55. (1994) Arsinoe before she was Philadelphus. Ancient History Bulletin 8, 123–31. (1995) Women and Basileia: legitimacy and female political action in Macedonia. Classical Journal 90.4, 367–91. (1996) Macedonians and mutiny: discipline and indiscipline in the army of Philip and Alexander. Classical Philology 91, 19–44. (1996) Alexander and the Persian women. American Journal of Philology 117, 563–83. (1998–2000) Were the tombs under the Great Tumulus at Vergina royal? Archaeological News 23, 33–44. (1999) The curious death of the Antipatrid dynasty. Ancient Macedonia/Archaia Makedonia 6.1, 209–16. (2000) The initiation of cult for royal Macedonian women. Classical Philology 95, 21–43. (2001) Women and military leadership in Pharaonic Egypt. Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies 42, 25–41. (2001) The trouble with Arrhidaeus. Ancient History Bulletin 15.2, 63–89. (2004) Women and military leadership in Macedonia. Ancient World 35.2, 184–95. (2005) Women and dunasteia in Caria. American Journal of Philology 126.1, 65–91. (2006) Death of Philip: perception and context. Classical Bulletin 82.1, 27–38. (2007) Symposia and the Macedonian elite: the unmixed life. Syllecta Classica 18, 129–180. (2007–2008) The royal skeletal remains from Tomb I at Vergina. (with A. Bartsiokas). Deltos 34–36, 15–19. (2014) Successful mediocrity: the career of Polyperchon. Syllecta Classica 25, 1–31. (2016) Commemoration of a royal woman as a warrior: the burial in the antechamber of Tomb II at Vergina. Syllecta Classica 27, 109–49. (2019) Women and masculinity in Plutarch’s Alexander. Illinois Classical Studies 44.1, 141–55.

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(1991) ‘What’s in a name?’ The emergence of a title for royal women in the Hellenistic period. In S.B. Pomeroy (ed.) Women’s History and Ancient History, 154–72. Chapel Hill, UNC Press Books. (1991) Pharaonic royal women. In H. Tierney (ed.) Women’s Studies Encyclopedia III, 130–31. Westport, CT, Greenwood Press. (1994) Olympias, Adea Eurydice, and the end of the Argead dynasty. In I. Worthington (ed.) Ventures into Greek History, 357–80. Oxford, Clarendon Press. (2000) Artifice and Alexander history. In A.B. Bosworth and E.J. Baynham (eds) Alexander the Great in Fact and Fiction, 263–83. Oxford, Oxford University Press. (2002) Hunting and the Macedonian elite: sharing the rivalry of the chase (Arrian 4.13.1). In D. Ogden (ed.) Hellenistic World: New Perspectives, 59–80. London, Classical Press of Wales and Duckworth. (2003) Women in Alexander’s court. In J. Roisman (ed.) Brill’s Companion to Alexander the Great, 227–52. Leiden and Boston, Brill. (2003) Elite education and high culture in Macedonia. In W. Heckel and L.A. Tritle (eds) Crossroads of History. The Age of Alexander, 49–65. Claremont, CA, Regina Books. (2007) The Philippeum, women, and the formation of a dynastic image. In W. Heckel, L.A. Tritle, and P. Wheatley (eds) Alexander’s Empire: Formulation to Decay, 27–60. Claremont, CA, Regina Books. (2008) The role of the basilikoi paides at the Argead court. In T. Howe and J. Reames (eds) Macedonian Legacies: Studies in Ancient Macedonian History and Culture in Honor of Eugene N. Borza, 145–64. Claremont, CA, Regina Books. (2009) Alexander and his ‘terrible mother’. In W. Heckel and L.A. Tritle (eds) Alexander the Great: A New History, 189–20. Chichester and Malden, MA, Wiley-Blackwell. (2010) Olympias and Oliver: sex, sexual stereotyping, and women in Oliver Stone’s Alexander. In P. Cartledge and F.R. Greenland (eds) Responses to Oliver Stone’s Alexander: Film, History, and Cultural Studies, 135–67. Madison, University of Wisconsin Press. (2010) Putting women in their place: women in public under Philip II and Alexander III and the last Argeads. In E.D. Carney and D. Ogden (eds) Philip II, Alexander III: Father and Son, Lives and Afterlives. New York, Oxford University Press. (2010) Women in Macedonia. In I. Worthington and J. Roisman (eds) A Companion to Ancient Macedonia, 409–27. Chichester, Wiley-Blackwell. (2011) Being royal and female in the Early Hellenistic period. In A. Erskine and L. Llewellyn-Jones (eds) Creating the Hellenistic World, 195–220. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. (2012) Oikos keeping: women and monarchy in the Macedonian tradition. In S. Dillon and S. James (eds) A Companion to Women in the Ancient World, 304–314. Malden, MA, Wiley-Blackwell. (2015) Women and symposia in Macedonia. In T. Howe, E.E. Garvin, and G. Wrightson (eds) Greece, Macedon and Persia: Studies in Social, Political and Military History in Honour of Waldemar Heckel, 33–40. Oxford and Philadelphia, Oxbow Books. (2015) Dynastic loyalty and dynastic collapse in Macedonia. In P. Wheatley and E. Baynham (eds) East and West in the World Empire of Alexander: Essays in Honour of Brian Bosworth, 147–62. Oxford, Oxford University Press. (2017) Argead marriage alliances. In S. Muller, T. Howe, H. Bowden and R. Rollinger (eds) The History of the Argeads, New Perspectives, 139–50. Wiesbaden, Harrassowitz. (2018) Royal women as succession advocates. In F. Pownall and T. Howe (eds) Ancient Macedonians in the Greek and Roman Sources, 9–39. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. (2019) An exceptional Argead couple: Philip II and Olympias. In A. Bielman Sánchez (ed.) Power Couples in Antiquity: Transversal Perspectives, 16–31. London and New York, Routledge.

PART I The Restricted Oikos Familial Affection and Kinship

Chapter 1 Alexander the Great and his Sisters: Blood in the Hellenistic Palace

Monica D’Agostini The paper builds on Carney’s (2000) remarks that bonding relations among siblings were a cohesive strategy of the ruling genos. The relation between Alexander and his sisters and stepsisters offers a clear example. Alexander prevented his sisters Cleopatra, Thessalonice and Cynnane from creating new political units and, in so doing, was supported by the personal bonds forged and preserved by Olympias. Building also on the relationships fostered by his mother, Alexander’s attitude towards Cynnane and Thessalonice protected the basileia from usurpation claims perpetrated via his female kin. With Cleopatra instead, Alexander engendered a political collaboration out of their strong affective connection. Alexander kept his full sister bonded to his own oikos, and, as long as he was alive, her personal relationship with him shaped her agency more than the identity patterns linked to her kinship or to Macedonian tradition. Elizabeth Carney’s pioneering volume Women and Monarchy in Macedonia identified bonding relations among siblings as a cohesive strategy of the ruling genos. The theme was further developed in her subsequent works (Carney 2013),1 and eventually intertwined with the theme of female dynastic loyalty (Dunn and Carney 2018), by considering what factors generated loyalty and disloyalty to a dynasty or individual ruler. Carney’s excellent body of research favors and upholds the exploration of the bond between Alexander the Great and his sister Cleopatra of Macedonia and the comparison with those of their other half-sisters Thessalonice, Cynnane and Europa to eventually outline the relevance of blood and affective ties in the royal oikos.2

The conflict among half-siblings is a central theme of the analysis of Hellenistic history also in Ogden 1999; 2011. 2 On the sisters of Alexander see Carney 1988, 385–404. 1

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The philosopher Satyrus of Callatis lists the siblings of Alexander in a fragment of the Life of Philip, which is preserved by Athenaeus.3 The passage about the polygamy of Philip II, who married seven times, has been generally considered reliable with regards to the names of the wives and of the children of the king, despite its later interpolation (Tronson 1984, 116–26). His first wife was, it is said, the Illyrian Audata, who gave birth to Philip’s first daughter, Cynnane. There is no information about the second wife Phila’s offspring, but, according to Satyrus, Philip had children by two Thessalian women: another daughter Thessalonice from Nicesipolis of Pherae, and a son, Arrhidaeus, his firstborn male, from Philinna of Larisa.4 His second son Alexander and his daughter Cleopatra were the children of the Molossian Olympias. Subsequently Philip married two other women, Meda, daughter of the Thracian king Cothelas, and lastly Cleopatra, the sister of Hippostratus and niece of Attalus. Cleopatra, the first fully Macedonian wife,5 bore to Philip another child.6 Among the numerous children, the sole full siblings in the house were the children of Olympias, Alexander and Cleopatra.7 Cleopatra was born a few years after Alexander, ca. 355 BC,8 and, although we have no sources on her childhood, she arguably grew up and thrived in Pella in her mother’s shadow along with her brother. Plutarch’s favorable Life of Alexander is the main source for he delivers information on the royal Macedonian familial life in the prince’s early years,9 combined with the tradition of Diodorus, who praises the heroic behavior of the king, and Justin’s summary of Pompeius Trogus, that is all but sympathetic towards a cruel Alexander.10 Plutarch Athen. 13.557b–d: ἐν ἔτεσι γοῦν εἴκοσι καὶ δυσὶν οἷς ἐβασίλευεν, ὥς φησι Σάτυρος ἐν τῷ περὶ τοῦ Βίου αὐτοῦ, Αὐδάταν Ἰλλυρίδα γήμας ἔσχεν ἐξ αὐτῆς θυγατέρα Κύνναν· ἔγημεν δὲ καὶ Φίλαν ἀδελφὴν Δέρδα καὶ Μαχάτα. οἰκειώσασθαι δὲ θέλων καὶ τὸ Θετταλῶν ἔθνος ἐπαιδοποιήσατο ἐκ δύο Θετταλίδων γυναικῶν, ὧν ἣ μὲν ἦν Φεραία Νικησίπολις, ἥτις αὐτῷ ἐγέννησε Θετταλονίκην, ἣ δὲ Λαρισαία Φίλιννα, ἐξ ἧς Ἀρριδαῖον ἐτέκνωσε. προσεκτήσατο δὲ καὶ τὴν Μολοττῶν βασιλείαν γήμας Ὀλυμπιάδα, ἐξ ἧς ἔσχεν Ἀλέξανδρον καὶ Κλεοπάτραν. καὶ τὴν Θρᾴκην δὲ ὅτε εἷλεν, ἧκε πρὸς αὐτὸν Κοθήλας ὁ τῶν Θρᾳκῶν βασιλεὺς ἄγων Μήδαν τὴν θυγατέρα καὶ δῶρα πολλά. γήμας δὲ καὶ ταύτην ἐπεισήγαγεν τῇ Ὀλυμπιάδι. ἐπὶ πάσαις δʼ ἔγημε Κλεοπάτραν ἐρασθεὶς τὴν Ἱπποστράτου μὲν ἀδελφήν, Ἀττάλου δὲ ἀδελφιδῆν· καὶ ταύτην ἐπεισάγων τῇ Ὀλυμπιάδι ἅπαντα τὸν βίον τὸν ἑαυτοῦ συνέχεεν. εὐθέως γὰρ ἐν αὐτοῖς τοῖς γάμοις ὁ μὲν Ἄτταλος νῦν μέντοι γνήσιοι, ἔφη, καὶ οὐ νόθοι βασιλεῖς γεννηθήσονται. καὶ ὁ Ἀλέξανδρος ἀκούσας ἔβαλεν ᾗ μετὰ χεῖρας εἶχεν κύλικι τὸν Ἄτταλον, ἔπειτα κἀκεῖνος αὐτὸν τῷ ποτηρίῳ. καὶ μετὰ ταῦτα Ὀλυμπιὰς μὲν εἰς Μολοττοὺς ἔφυγεν, Ἀλέξανδρος δʼ εἰς Ἰλλυριούς. καὶ ἡ Κλεοπάτρα δʼ ἐγέννησε τῷ Φιλίππῳ θυγατέρα τὴν κληθεῖσαν Εὐρώπην. On the weddings see Ogden 1999, 17–18; Carney 2000, 51–76; Landucci 2012; 2019, 47–48. 4 On Arrhidaeus see Squillace in this volume. 5 Landucci 2019, 59. 6 On Cleopatra’s and Philip’s offspring see below. 7 On Cleopatra see also Berve 1926, 2, 212–213; Macurdy 1932, 31–47; Carney 1988, 385–404. 8 All of the dates in the paper are to be understood as BC. 9 Plut. Alex. 1–10. In general on Alexander’s youth and the bias of the sources see recently Asirvatham 2016, 11–24. 10 On Justin’s Alexander see Prandi 2015, 3–15 and on Diodorus’ Alexander see Prandi 2013, xxx– xxxvii. Cf. Worthington 2010, 165–74. 3

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says that Olympias managed her son’s education for she entrusted him to her Aeacid relative Leonidas. He was Alexander’s tutor throughout his childhood and early teens, “his moral and emotional mentor” as Carney (2015, 191–205) says, with the assistance of many other teachers whose names only partially survive.11 Cleopatra too was educated as her later correspondence suggests,12 and doubtless by her mother and her mother’s courtiers. Alexander and Cleopatra likely received a similar academic schooling, inspired to the heroic and Homeric values conveyed by Greek literature. They were surrounded by the maternal Aeacid connections, including their uncle Alexander who had joined the Macedonian court around 350, as Justin reports.13 The two siblings shared their early years, for Olympias was the chief influence on their life and made of them a familial unit, at least until 343 (Carney 2006, 28; 42).14 When Alexander was around 13 years old Philip II took an active interest in his son’s education and summoned Aristotle as his new teacher, says Plutarch (Hamilton 1965, 117–24; Carney 2006, 6; 25–31):15 the youth was sent to Mieza, likely with a few intimate friends for about three years to be taught away from his mother’s influence, while Cleopatra remained at Olympias’ side.16 In the same year, the girl’s uncle, Alexander, was sent to Epirus by Philip II to be appointed as new king, and, in 338, when she was around 17, she was eventually left alone at the Argead court also by her closest kin. Such evidence as there is shows that at Philip II’s wedding with the Macedonian Cleopatra, Alexander had a disagreement with the guardian of the bride, Attalus, about the rightfulness of his legitimacy claim:17 Olympias’ offspring was accused of being For example Lysimachus of Acarnania: Plut. Alex. 5.7–8. A partial list survives in late sources: in the Alexander Romance of Pseudo-Callisthenes at 1.13 and thus in its Latin version by Julius Valerius Alexander Polemius (1.7). On Macedonian education, including women’s education, see Psoma 2006, 285–99. Asirvatham in this volume also stresses the impact of Alexander’s infant bond with his wet-nurse Lanice, which reflected also on her children. 12 Memnon BNJ 434 F 4.1. About Cleopatra’s correspondence with Dionysius of Heraclea see below. Plutarch (Eum. 3.3–6) mentions the letters from Cleopatra to Leonnatus after Alexander’s death: λόγος μὲν γὰρ ἦν ἡ βοήθεια καί πρόφασις, ἐγνώκει δὲ διαβὰς εὐθὺς ἀντιποιεῖσθαι Μακεδονίας: καί τινας ἐπιστολὰς ἔδειξε Κλεοπάτρας μεταπεμπομένης αὐτὸν εἰς Πέλλαν ὡς γαμησομένης. See Carney 2000, 28–31. 13 Justin 8.6.3–6. 14 See also Ogden 1999, 22. 15 Plut. Alex. 7.1–8.5. See also Diog. Laert. 5.10; Strabo 13.608. 16 On the presence or absence of other elite Macedonian boys as fellow pupils at Mieza see Carney 2015, 191–205. 17 The three accounts of the wedding have been carefully analyzed by Carney (1992, 169–189; 2006, 31–36). Satyrus in Athenaeus (13.557b–e) mentions that at Philip’s wedding to Cleopatra, Attalus said to the Macedonians that the children Philip had from his previous wives were bastards, while those he was going to have with Cleopatra were to be the only legitimate offspring. Alexander in response threw a cup at Attalus, who also reacted by throwing his cup back at Alexander. Very close are the details yielded by Plutarch (Alex. 9.5–11), who stresses, however, Philip shielding Attalus: Attalus wished for a Macedonian heir to be born from the couple. Alexander was enraged and had a fight with him and Philip. Philip’s same support for Attalus is evident from the brief account of Justin (9.7.1–6), likely close to Trogus’ text: Alexander had a fight with Attalus and 11

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a bastard, for the new wife’s progeny was destined to be of a more legitimate birth. Philip II failed to defend his son’s claim, and, in so doing, he undermined the political status of Alexander and Olympias whose Epirote ancestry had been questioned. After the incident the unity Olympias-Alexander-Cleopatra broke into two pieces. Alexander left Macedonia and took their mother with him; they headed west leaving the sister behind. The sources agree that they went to Epirus first, where king Alexander sheltered them, and from thence Alexander left his mother and headed to the king of the Illyrians.18 Why did Alexander leave Cleopatra in Pella? She represented her kin’s interest for her fate was bonded to theirs at Philip’s court. But while Alexander moved his mother, he did not do the same with his sister. He likely thought that she was not in any danger in Pella for the issue raised by Attalus was not about the Aeacids’ safety, but about their dynastic charisma and Philip’s support of it. Cleopatra partook in the same dynastic charisma of Alexander and Olympias, and perhaps at her father’s court she could be an asset, rather than a liability. By leaving Cleopatra behind, Alexander made his sister a diplomatic resource: she became a guarantee for the Aeacid loyalty to Philip II, as well as a viable means to solve the predicament and recompose the royal family, and as such was used by them all. Notably, Plutarch specifies that Philip sought reconciliation with his son.19 These were the political reasons that determined the wedding of Cleopatra with her uncle Alexander of Epirus, for the union was meant to ease the relation among the members of the ruling family after the “misunderstanding” (Carney 2006, 36–37; Heckel, Howe and Müller 2017, 92–124). Diodorus and Justin describe the wedding as a great display of power and wealth that was meant to celebrate Philip II’s reign rather than the wedding couple.20 According to Justin’s summary, Alexander took part in the Philip because of Cleopatra and her offspring. Heckel, Howe and Müller (2017, 92–124) argue that Philip took Attalus’ side because of his affection for his ward Cleopatra. He similarly protected Attalus when Pausanias reported him as one of the perpetrators of his rape. See also, among others, Whitehorne 1994, 38–40, who stresses the threat coming from this union to Olympias and Alexander; Ogden 1999, 20–21. 18 Satyrus in Athen. 13.5 (557e), Plut. Alex. 9.11–14 and Justin 9.7.5. 19 Plut. Alex. 9.11–14. 20 Diod. 16.91.4–93.2: εὐθὺς οὖν θυσίας μεγαλοπρεπεῖς ἐπετέλει τοῖς θεοῖς καὶ τῆς θυγατρὸς Κλεοπάτρας τῆς ἐξ Ὀλυμπιάδος συνετέλει γάμους καὶ ταύτην Ἀλεξάνδρῳ συνῴκισε τῷ βασιλεῖ τῶν Ἠπειρωτῶν, ἀδελφῷ δὲ ὄντι γνησίῳ τῆς Ὀλυμπιάδος. ἅμα δὲ ταῖς τῶν θεῶν τιμαῖς βουλόμενος ὡς πλείστους τῶν Ἑλλήνων μετασχεῖν τῆς εὐωχίας ἀγῶνάς τε μουσικοὺς μεγαλοπρεπεῖς ἐποίει καὶ λαμπρὰς ἑστιάσεις τῶν φίλων καὶ ξένων. διόπερ ἐξ ἁπάσης τῆς Ἑλλάδος μετεπέμπετο τοὺς ἰδιοξένους καὶ τοῖς ἑαυτοῦ φίλοις παρήγγειλε παραλαμβάνειν τῶν ἀπὸ τῆς ξένης γνωρίμων ὡς πλείστους. σφόδρα γὰρ ἐφιλοτιμεῖτο φιλοφρονεῖσθαι πρὸς τοὺς Ἕλληνας καὶ διὰ τὰς δεδομένας αὐτῷ τῆς ὅλης ἡγεμονίας τιμὰς ταῖς προσηκούσαις ὁμιλίαις ἀμείβεσθαι. […] Justin 9.6.1–3: Interea, dum auxilia a Graecia coeunt, nuptias Cleopatrae filiae et Alexandri, quem regem Epiri fecerat, celebrat. Dies erat pro magnitudine duorum regum, et conlocantis filiam et uxorem ducentis, apparatibus insignis. Sed nec ludorum magnificentia deerat; ad quorum spectaculum Philippus cum sine custodibus corporis medius inter duos Alexandros, filium generumque, contenderet. See Carney 1987, 35–62; 1992, 169–89; Mortensen 1997, 205–206. On the argument that the marriage was meant to demote Olympias

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celebration and escorted his father together with his sister’s future husband to the theatre, in a public display of familial harmony that portrayed the two Alexanders as the two pillars of the future of Macedonia. They re-established the honor of the Molossian lineage, wounded by Philip’s negligence of Attalus’ allegations. For the occasion Cleopatra re-joined her kin in 336 in Aegae. There the familial unit of her childhood was renewed via her own wedding to become an actual political unit whose members were ordained to rule over Macedonia and Epirus. Yet, on this occasion Philip II was murdered by Pausanias, one of his courtiers, perhaps moved by the same disappointment at the king’s favor towards Attalus that induced Alexander to leave Pella (Heckel, Howe and Müller 2017, 92–124). What until then only seemed as a future project, all of a sudden became an immediate reality. Cleopatra and Alexander of Molossia governed Epirus, and Alexander with the support of Antipater and Olympias was recognized king of the Macedonians. Two pairs of siblings were at the head of the Greco-Macedonian world, building on their personal and affective bond, for, although physically distant, they were part of the same familial unit. From now on Alexander would not see his sister again. He left on his expedition to the east, whereas Cleopatra remained in Epirus, as wife of the king at first, and later as widow, when her husband died in his Italian campaign (Carney 2000, 89).21 Among the ancient sources Plutarch is also the best informed on Cleopatra’s doings after the separation from her brother. The Life of Alexander devotes two passages to the relation between the siblings. Two years into the expedition and soon after Alexander’s departure from Gaza, in September–October 332, Cleopatra received the spoils from the city, the main city of Sinai, after her brother had taken it, despite his being injured. The king sent home a great part of the booty to his mother and his sister, his friends, and to his first tutor Leonidas, Olympias’ relative, as a sign of gratitude for his teaching during his boyhood.22 Cleopatra is associated with Olympias, Leonidas and Alexander’s friends as his closest affection was for the people who populated the king’s childhood and boyhood until he turned 13 and was sent to Mieza. They were the home he had left behind. The personal factor emerges from Plutarch’s explanation of Alexander’s gesture. The king sent Leonidas frankincense see, among others, Heckel 1981, 51–57; Whitehorne 1994, 40–42. On the procession and wedding ceremonies in general see Strootman 2014, 249–50; Ager 2017, 165–88. 21 Aeschines (3.242) mentions an embassy to Cleopatra, the daughter of Philip, to express his condolences to her over the death of Alexander king of the Molossians. It has been suggested that she had two children based on some passages of Plutarch’s Life of Pyrrhus. Plutarch (Pyrrh. 2.1, 4.1, 5.5) mentions a Neoptolemus, who ruled Epirus and descended from Neoptolemus and had a sister named Cadmeia. Cadmeia and Neoptolemus have thus been identified as Cleopatra’s and Alexander’s children. For a full analysis of the evidence on Neoptolemus II see Heckel in this volume. See also Hammond 1967, 558–61; Carney 2006, 169 n. 25. 22 Plut. Alex. 25.4: καὶ τὸ σημεῖον ἀπέβη κατὰ τὴν Ἀριστάνδρου πρόρρησιν ἐτρώθη μὲν γὰρ Ἀλέξανδρος εἰς τὸν ὦμον, ἔλαβε δὲ τὴν πόλιν. ἀποστέλλων δέ πολλὰ τῶν λαφύρων Ὀλυμπιάδι καὶ Κλεοπάτρᾳ καὶ τοῖς φίλοις, κατέπεμψε καὶ Λεωνίδῃ τῷ παιδαγωγῷ τάλαντα λιβανωτοῦ πεντακόσια καὶ σμύρνης ἑκατόν, ἀναμνησθεὶς παιδικῆς ἐλπίδος.

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and myrrh because of a funny and intimate episode: the teacher had reprimanded Alexander because he was throwing incense generously with both hands upon the altar-fire, saying that he would have been allowed to use such a great quantity only when he conquered the spice-bearing regions. In 332, it is said, the king answered that reproach by sending myrrh and frankincense in abundance, so that Leonidas could stop dealing parsimoniously with the gods.23 For two years Alexander had been away and his home and his youthful relations were still vivid: his Aeacid household, Olympias, Leonidas, Cleopatra, and perhaps his uncle Alexander, we may suspect, was what he looked back to, the familial unit he relied upon at home. About seven years later, in 325/24, Cleopatra, widowed, is said by Plutarch to have taken the lead of a political faction in order to take over the management of Macedonia. He tells that when Alexander was about to head back to Mesopotamia, he received news that the relations between his mother and Antipater were irrevocably shattered, and factions had been engendered. Olympias was contending with Antipater for Epirus, while his sister for their homeland, says Plutarch.24 The passage has to be carefully managed, as Antipater was still in control of Macedonia in 323, but reflects that the power of the general was weakened and lacked the support of the members of the royal house (Blackwell 1999, 94–102; Carney 2000, 90–93; 2006, 53).25 It is interesting that Alexander did not question the decision of his kin to distance themselves from Antipater, or to enter into conflict with him. On receiving the news, he instead expressed his uncertainty about the Macedonians being keen to be reigned over by a woman, praising his mother for the wise choice to stay in Epirus,26 but expressing an indirect criticism towards his sister. We shall be careful in seeing in his words an actual sign of mistrust in Cleopatra, or detachment among the members of the family, as other sources tend to stress Alexander’s endorsement of his sister’s agency. The Moralia mentions the relation between the siblings in one of the many episodes on Alexander’s life, which are selected and collected to illustrate the author’s own portrayal of Alexander. Bearing in mind Plutarch’s bias, it is said that Alexander heard of his sister having an affair and endorsed her behavior, as she was entitled to partake in the privileges of the royal power, the basileia.27 Although the passage is Plut. Alex. 25.5. Blackwell 1999, 94–99 argues that Olympias moved to Molossia in 331/330 following her brother’s death. See also Diod. 18.49.4 and Paus. 1.2.3. The former mentions Olympias’ return, or exile, to Epirus as due to some tensions with Antipater. See Landucci Gattinoni 2008, i–xx and ad loc. 25 Hammond on several occasions suggested that Alexander orchestrated Antipater’s demotion from being the main representative of Alexander in Macedonia and Cleopatra’s position of leadership: Hammond 1989, 33–34 with previous references. 26 Plut. Alex. 68.3: ὅπου καὶ πρὸς Ἀντίπατρον Ὀλυμπιὰς καὶ Κλεοπάτρα στασιάσασαι διείλοντο τὴν ἀρχήν, Ὀλυμπιὰς μὲν Ἤπειρον, Κλεοπάτρα δὲ Μακεδονίαν παραλαβοῦσα. καὶ τοῦτο ἀκούσας Ἀλέξανδρος βέλτιον ἔφη βεβουλεῦσθαι τὴν μητέρα: Μακεδόνας γὰρ οὐκ ἂν ὑπομεῖναι βασιλευομένους ὑπὸ γυναικός. See Caiazza 1993, 263. 27 Plut. Prae. ger. reip. 818b–c: Ἀλέξανδρος μὲν γὰρ ἀκούσας τὴν ἀδελφὴν ἐγνωκέναι τινὰ τῶν καλῶν καὶ νέων οὐκ ἠγανάκτησεν εἰπών, ὅτι κἀκείνῃ τι δοτέον ἀπολαῦσαι τῆς βασιλείας: οὐκ ὀρθῶς 23 24

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criticized by Plutarch as an example of un-royal behavior, since the royals are taking advantage of their role for personal ends, it confirms the closeness of the siblings. Such evidence corroborates the fact that, after their separation, Alexander kept contact with his sister Cleopatra, was informed of her doings, considered her as a member of his inner circle of loved ones, his familial unit, and consequently, because of their relation to each other, a collaborator and a representative of his royal political unit. She shared his charismatic authority. Plutarch is not the sole source on Cleopatra having a close relation with her brother and a share in his basileia. Lycurgus of Athens, in his only oration entirely preserved, Against Leocrates, says that around 333–331 Cleopatra sold to Leocrates grain that was shipped from Epirus to Leucas, and then Corinth.28 The literary mention of the administrative duties of royal women is consistent with two epigraphic documents: a fragmentary stele from Argos ca. 330 includes a catalogue of thearodochoi – diplomatic officials – and lists Cleopatra as the one from Epirus,29 and a marble inscription from Cyrene numbers her, like her mother, together with other Greek people struck by famine, as the recipients of grain from Cyrene.30 In the latter document, Cleopatra and Olympias are the only two personal names among a number of states and there is no trace of Antipater, suggesting they were functioning as heads of state, or rather as local representatives of royal authority (Blackwell 1999, 89–93). There is no certainty that Alexander was aware of his kin’s benefaction, as he is not referenced in the inscription (Carney 2006, 51–52). Yet, Cleopatra in these years was sharing his authority as member of the same political unit, for she was working in connection with her brother as Memnon of Heraclea tells us. The local author in his valuable work on the history of his own city reports that, after Alexander’s conquest, the exiles sent embassies to the king asking for their return and the change of the constitution into a democracy. Dionysius, the tyrant of the city between 337 and 305, on that occasion came close to being deprived of his rule, but he avoided the deposition because he was helped and supported by Cleopatra.31 Alexander’s sister interceded with him τὰ τοιαῦτα συγχωρῶν οὐδ᾽ ἀξίως ἑαυτοῦ: δεῖ γὰρ ἀρχῆς τὴν κατάλυσιν καὶ ὕβριν ἀπόλαυσιν μὴ νομίζειν. 28 Lycurg. Leoc. 26: καὶ οὐκ ἐξήρκεσεν αὐτῷ τοσαῦτα καὶ τηλικαῦτα τὴν πόλιν ἀδικῆσαι, ἀλλ᾽ οἰκῶν ἐν Μεγάροις, οἷς παρ᾽ ὑμῶν ἐξεκομίσατο χρήμασιν ἀφορμῇ χρώμενος, ἐκ τῆς Ἠπείρου παρὰ Κλεοπάτρας εἰς Λευκάδα ἐσιτήγει καὶ ἐκεῖθεν εἰς Κόρινθον. De Martinis 2012, 39–62; 2013, 24–54. 29 SEG XXIII 189 l. 11: [Ἄπε]ιρος· Κλεοπάτρα. See Cabanes 1976, 177–181 on the birth of the koinon of Epirus in these years and 1980, 324–351 on Epirote women. 30 SEG IX 2 l. 10: Κλευπάτραι πέντε μυριάδας. Blackwell (1999, 89–102) convincingly dates it to the early phases of Alexander’s expedition and argues that they were acting on behalf of Alexander, Cleopatra for Molossia and Olympias for Macedonia. Following Oliverio (1933, 33–35), he links the inscription to Lycurgus’ passage and argues that the grain Leocrates bought was Cleopatra’s surplus from the Cyrene distribution. 31 Memnon BNJ 434 F 1.4: ὕστερον δὲ ποικίλας ὑπέστη περιστάσεις, μάλιστά γε τῶν τῆς ῾Ηρακλείας φυγάδων πρὸς ᾽Αλέξανδρον περιφανῶς ἤδη τῆς ᾽Ασίας κρατοῦντα διαπρεσβευομένων καὶ κάθοδον καὶ τὴν τῆς πόλεως πάτριον δημοκρατίαν ἐξαιτουμένων. δι᾽ ἅπερ ἐγγὺς μὲν κατέστη τοῦ ἐκπεσεῖν τῆς ἀρχῆς· καὶ ἐξέπεσεν ἄν, εἰ μὴ συνέσει πολλῆι καὶ ἀγχινοίαι καὶ τῆι τῶν ὑπηκόων εὐνοίαι

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and dealt with the Heraclean situation on behalf of her brother. Therefore, it must have been public knowledge that the two siblings were in contact and cooperating, or Dionysius would not have turned to Cleopatra for assistance. Memnon is only the last of the sources that sketch a consistent image of the Aeacid siblings from their childhood until Alexander’s death. They grew together, remained close to each other despite the physical distance for they were part of the same oikos, and, building on their personal ties, they were involved in their royal status. Their affective relation originated in the house they shared and grew to have a political impact. The fact that Cleopatra did not remarry after her husband’s death should not be underestimated, as she was included in her brother’s kingship. On the other sisters of Alexander, we know little since the sources are few and more scattered. An anecdote from Plutarch’s Moralia suggests he did have revulsion for his father’s numerous offspring. Alexander apparently complained to his father that he had too many children by other women besides his wife, meaning Olympias, but Alexander received a harsh response, which reminded him that his claim should have been rooted in his honor rather than in his lineage.32 Although Plutarch’s pedagogic intent and bias is patent, other writers developed the theme of Alexander’s ill disposition towards his half-relatives, mostly to support the accusation of his being the murderer of the child Philip had from Cleopatra. A half-sibling could be a threat to Alexander’s rule.33 According to Diodorus, Philip’s child born from Cleopatra could provide Attalus grounds to claim the throne for he could be seen as the guardian and regent for a baby king, if the child was a male (Carney 2006, 34). A similar argument can be attributed to Justin, who hints at Alexander being troubled by a brother who might come from Philip’s last wedding.34 In the books of his Epitome devoted to Alexander, he informs us that the new monarch had his little half-brother Caranus killed, for the child was a rival to the rule.35 This version corroborates Plutarch’s allegation of the king’s hatred for his half-relatives by ascribing the killing to Alexander’s political schemes. However, Trogus/Justin is inconsistent in naming the child as well as identifying its murderer (Heckel 1979, 385–93; Carney 2000, 77–78), as he also refers to an unnamed female child in the last book of his Epitome devoted to Philip καὶ θεραπείαι Κλεοπάτρας τοὺς ἀπειληθέντας αὐτῶι πολέμους διέφυγε, τὰ μὲν ὑπείκων καὶ τὴν ὀργὴν ἐκλύων καὶ μεθοδεύων ταῖς ἀναβολαῖς, τὰ δὲ ἀντιπαρασκευαζόμενος. See D’Agostini 2020, 70–89. 32 Plut. Mor. 178e (Reg. imper. Apophth. Philipp. 22): πυθόμενος δ᾽ ἐγκαλεῖν αὐτῷ τὸν Ἀλέξανδρον, ὅτι παῖδας ἐκ πλειόνων ποιεῖται γυναικῶν, “οὐκοῦν” ἔφη “πολλοὺς ἔχων περὶ τῆς βασιλείας ἀνταγωνιστὰς γενοῦ καλὸς κἀγαθός, ἵνα μὴ δι᾽ ἐμὲ τῆς βασιλείας τύχῃς ἀλλὰ διὰ σεαυτόν” ἐκέλευε δ᾽ αὐτὸν Ἀριστοτέλει προσέχειν καὶ φιλοσοφεῖν, “ὅπως” ἔφη “μὴ πολλὰ τοιαῦτα πράξῃς, ἐφ” οἷς ἐγὼ πεπραγμένοις μεταμέλομαι. 33 Cf. Diod. 17.2.3: ἔχων δὲ τῆς βασιλείας ἔφεδρον Ἄτταλον τὸν ἀδελφὸν Κλεοπάτρας τῆς ἐπιγαμηθείσης ὑπὸ Φιλίππου τοῦτον ἔκρινεν ἐκ τοῦ ζῆν μεταστῆσαι: καὶ γὰρ ἐτύγχανε παιδίον ἐκ τῆς Κλεοπάτρας γεγονὸς τῷ Φιλίππῳ τῆς τελευτῆς τοῦ βασιλέως ὀλίγαις πρότερον ἡμέραις. See Prandi 2013 ad loc. 34 Justin 9.7.3: Alexandrum quoque regni aemulum fratrem ex noverca susceptum timuisse. 35 Justin 11.2.3: Aemulum quoque imperii, Caranum, fratrem ex noverca susceptum, interfici curavit.

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II’s life. Indeed, he describes the vengeful murder of Cleopatra and her daughter, and not her son, perpetrated by Olympias, and not Alexander, following Philip’s death.36 Olympias’ murderous initiative is also referenced by a dramatic text in Pausanias,37 while we find confirmation about the female gender of the baby in the well-informed aforementioned passage by Satyrus, who also calls her Europa. Therefore, it was likely Olympias who killed Europa together with her mother (Heckel 1979, 385–93; Carney 2006, 44; Howe 2015, 133–46) for she saw in this female child some kind of threat to her family’s stability in the rule. In such a disarray of the ancient sources, a line from Plutarch’s Life of Alexander reveals Alexander’s stand on the matter, and on his half-relative, which is opposed to that above illustrated by the Moralia. Rather than showing hostility toward Philip’s newborn, the king was enraged with his mother for her treatment of Cleopatra,38 for he did not perceive her or his half-sister as a direct menace to himself or to his kingship. Conversely, he might have seen her as a possible resource to strengthen his new rule (Howe 2015, 133–46). This attitude is in general confirmed by what we know of the king’s relations with his other royal relatives. The other royal half-sisters of Alexander are better attested. The Illyrian Cynnane was born from Philip’s first marriage, according to Satyrus’ list. She was likely older than Arrhidaeus, Alexander and Cleopatra, perhaps born in 358/7, for she was the first child to be married in the early 330s at the age of 18 (Greenwalt 1988, 93–97).39 The knowledge we have of her mainly comes from Arrian’s Anabasis, the fragments of the History of the Successors, through Photius’ epitome, and the anecdotal tradition of Polyaenus (Heckel 1983–84, 193–200). Polyaenus’ valuable testimony informs us that Philip himself had taken interest in his daughter Cynnane for she had received a military training, arguably from her Illyrian mother Audata. Unlike her Aeacid half-sister Cleopatra, she is said to have commanded armies and charged at the head of them. She won a good reputation through her martial prowess. Cynnane fought at her father’s side in the Illyrian campaign, when, Polyaenus says, she slew their Justin 9.7.12: Post haec Cleopatram, a qua pulsa Philippi matrimonio fuerat, in gremio eius prius filia interfecta, finire vitam suspendio coegit, spectaculoque pendentis ultionem potita est, ad quam per parricidium festinaverat. Trogus, rather than Justin, might have used two different sources for the two accounts. Landucci 2014, 233–260 and Prandi 2015, 3–15. See also Heckel and Yardley 1997 ad loc. and Zecchini and Mineo 2016–2018 ad loc. 37 Paus. 8.7.7: ἐπὶ δὲ Φιλίππῳ τελευτήσαντι Φιλίππου παῖδα νήπιον, γεγονότα δὲ ἐκ Κλεοπάτρας ἀδελφιδῆς Ἀττάλου, τοῦτον τὸν παῖδα ὁμοῦ τῇ μητρὶ Ὀλυμπιὰς ἐπὶ σκεύους χαλκοῦ πυρὸς ὑποβεβλημένου διέφθειρεν ἕλκουσα. On Satyrus as a more reliable source than Pausanias see Heckel 1979, 385–93. For a complete review of the debate over the ancient sources see Carney 2006, 153 n. 79. Cf. Lane Fox (2011, 367–91), who argues for the existence of two children, a boy and a girl. 38 Plut. Alex. 10.7: καὶ τὴν Κλεοπάτραν ἀποδημοῦντος αὐτοῦ τῆς Ὀλυμπιάδος ὠμῶς μεταχειρισαμένης ἠγανάκτησε. On the murder see also Carney 1991, 17–26; 1993, 29–56; Landucci Gattinoni 2012, 127–135; Anson 2013, 74–81. Heckel, Howe and Müller (2017, 92–124) suggest the possibility that Alexander thought to wed his father’s last wife, consistently with the “levirate” marriage trend of the Argeads. For the “levirate” marriage trend in the Argead house see Ogden 1999, xix–xx. 39 On Cynnane see also Berve 1926, 2, 229; Heckel 1983–84, 193–200; 2006 s.v. “Cynnane”; Penrose 2016, 196–97. 36

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queen and slaughtered the Illyrian army. The valiant war conduct of the royal woman secured her a noble wedding:40 Philip II gave her in marriage to Amyntas, son and heir of his deceased brother Perdiccas III, whose tutelage he had assumed while claiming the throne (Anson 2009, 276–86).41 Amyntas had been kept alive by his uncle and included in his family, yet, after the birth of Arrhidaeus and Alexander, he moved to the “second tier of heirs” (Anson 2009, 276–86) to eventually become an instrument to strengthen the Argead bloodline through the wedding with Philip’s first born and brave daughter. This union occurred not much before Cleopatra’s, but was different in nature and nurture: although the celebrations appear from the sources to have been of a minor scale, its political meaning was not. The wedding consolidated the Argead bloodline and clan, by connecting Philip’s line with his brother’s branch, and reunited the dynasty. The date of Amyntas’ and Cynnane’s union has been placed around 338/7 (Carney 2000, 69). According to Polyaenus, Cynnane was widowed soon after her wedding, and based on the other source on the princess, Arrian, Alexander put Amyntas to death for conspiracy before he left for the Asiatic expedition.42 He was one of the cornerstones of the opposition to Alexander’s ascension since he was considered by some of the Greeks as a more legitimate heir to the Argead throne than the son of Philip II (Ellis 1971, 15–24; Prandi 1998, 91–101; Howe 2015, 133–46).43 Perhaps Cynnane herself was involved in the plot (Heckel 1983–84, 193–200); nevertheless, neither Alexander nor his mother executed her or her offspring, as happened

Polyaen. 8.60: Κύννα Φιλίππου θυγάτηρ τὰ πολεμικὰ ἤσκει καὶ στρατοπέδων ἡγεῖτο καὶ πολεμίοις παρετάσσετο· καὶ Ἰλλυριοῖς παρατασσομένη τὴν βασιλεύουσαν αὐτῶν καιρίαν ἐς τὸν αὐχένα πλήξασα κατέβαλε καὶ πολλοὺς τῶν Ἰλλυριῶν φεύγοντας ἔκτεινε. γημαμένη δὲ Ἀμύντᾳ τῷ Περδίκκου ταχέως τοῦτον ἀποβαλοῦσα οὐχ ὑπέμεινεν ἀνδρὸς πειραθῆναι δευτέρου, ἀλλὰ μίαν ἔχουσα θυγατέρα ἐξ Ἀμύντου Εὐρυδίκην καὶ ταύτην τὰ πολεμικὰ ἤσκησεν. Ἀλεξάνδρου δὲ ἐν Βαβυλῶνι τελευτήσαντος καὶ τῶν διαδόχων νεωτεριζόντων ἐτόλμησεν αὐτὴ διαβῆναι τὸν Στρυμόνα, Ἀντιπάτρου δὲ κωλύοντος βιασαμένη τοὺς κωλύοντας τὸν ποταμὸν διῆλθε καὶ τοὺς ἐμποδὼν γιγνομένους καταγωνισαμένη διέβη τὸν Ἑλλήσποντον συμμῖξαι τῷ Μακεδόνων στρατεύματι προθυμουμένη. Ἀλκέτα δὲ μετὰ τῆς δυνάμεως ἀπαντήσαντος οἱ Μακεδόνες ἰδόντες τὴν Φιλίππου θυγατέρα καὶ ἀδελφὴν Ἀλεξάνδρου, αἰδεσθέντες τὴν γνώμην μετεβάλοντο. ἡ δὲ τὸν Ἀλκέταν ὀνειδίσασα τῆς ἀχαριστίας οὔτε τὸ πλῆθος τῶν ἀνδρῶν οὔτε τὴν παρασκευὴν τῶν ὅπλων κατεπλάγη, ἀλλ’ εὐγενῶς ἤνεγκε τὴν σφαγὴν τεθνάναι μᾶλλον ἢ τὸ Φιλίππου γένος ἐκπεπτωκὸς τῆς ἀρχῆς ὁρᾶν αἱρουμένη. On Macedonian queens as warriors and on the military training of Illyrian royal women see Carney 2004, 184–95 and Penrose 2016, 193–97. On the accounts stressing the non-Greek behavior of Cynnane see O’Neil 1999, 1–14. 41 On Philip’s kingship and guardianship see also Borza 1990, 200–201. 42 Arrian Succ. 1.22–23 = FGrHist 156 F 9-1.22–23 (= Phot. Bibl. 92 p. 70): οὐ πολὺ δὲ ὔστερον καὶ τὸ περὶ Κυνάνην πάθος συνηνέχθη, ὃ Περδίκκας τε καὶ ὁ ἀδελφὸς ᾽Αλκέτας διεπράξαντο. ἡ δὲ Κυνάνη Φίλιππον μὲν εἶχε πατέρα, ὃν καὶ ᾽Αλέξανδρος, ἐκ δὲ μητρὸς Εὐρυδίκης ἦν, γυνὴ δὲ ᾽Αμύντου, ὃν ἔφθη ᾽Αλέξανδρος κτεῖναι, ὁπότε εἰς τὴν ᾽Ασίαν διέβαινεν. οὗτος δὲ Περδίκκου παῖς ἦν, ἀδελφὸς δὲ Φιλίππου Περδίκκας, ὡς εἶναι᾽Αμύνταν τὸν ἀνηιρημένον ᾽Αλεξάνδρου ἀνεψιόν. ἦγε δὲ ἡ Κυνάνη ᾽Αδέαν τὴν αὐτῆς θυγατέρα, ἥτις ὔστερον Εὐρυδίκη μετωνομάσθη, τῶι ᾽Αρριδαίωι εἰς γυναῖκα· 43 Based on Plut. Mor. 327c (De al. m. fort. 3); Curt. 6.9.17 and 6.10.26; Justin 12.6.14. 40

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with Europa. The half-sister was left at her daughter’s side, Adea, to train her in the military art (Carney 2000, 129–31).44 Arrian alone in his Anabasis mentions that Alexander intended to remarry his half-sister to Langarus, king of the Agrianae, a tribe in the Upper Strymon valley. This was meant to be a reward for his services, for Langarus valuably aided Alexander in securing his borders and consolidating his rule in the northern territories: he campaigned against the Autariatae who were menacing Alexander’s march in Illyria. Langarus invaded the area, neutralised the threat and shielded the Macedonian army that meanwhile secured the region. The king likely meant to entrust him with the management of the Illyrian territory, for he offered him the hand of his Illyrian half-sister, but a disease carried off the bridegroom.45 Alexander did not seek conflict with his half-sister, but his plans for Cynnane were politically opposed to those of Philip II. Cut off from the main line of succession, the half-sister was to be demoted to marry a local, yet loyal and valuable, non-Macedonian general: this union built on Cynnane’s Illyrian roots and connections to reinforce Macedonian rule, but would have watered, if not annihilated, her progeny’s claim to the Macedonian throne, for it chained her to her non-Macedonian lineage. As Carney 1988 (285–404) mentions: “Alexander proved uninterested in a royal brother-in-low, unless of the barbarian sort” for such a groom did not endanger his basileia. The threat she represented for the Aeacid unit hails from all of the sources on her (glorious) death in battle against Perdiccas’ brother, Alcetas: Polyaenus and Arrian both emphasize the loyalty of the Macedonian army to her, as they saw her as the brave Philip’s daughter. The troops reacted to her death with indignation and decided to honor the last orders of their deceased commander Cynnane. They fulfilled the mission to bring her daughter Adea to Asia and offer her hand to Arrhidaeus, the new Macedonian king with the name of Philip III. Upon the nuptials Adea took the Argead dynastic name Eurydice. Cynnane’s military and dynastic charisma is also corroborated by Diodorus’ description of her burial in the royal tombs of Aegae by Cassander for she was the worthy daughter of Philip II (Heckel 1983–84, 193–200; Carney 2006, 72).46 Despite Alexander’s attempt to remove her from the royal chessboard by marrying her to his ally, Cynnane remained a player in the Macedonian basileia until her death. Yet her charisma was not dependent upon her relationship with her brother, like Cleopatra’s, As stated by both Polyaenus’ Stratagems 8.60 and Arrian’s fragment, FGrHist 156 F 9-1.23. Arrian. Anab. 1.5.4–5: καὶ τὴν ἀδελφὴν τὴν Ἀλεξάνδρου Κύναν καὶ ταύτην ὡμολόγησε δώσειν αὐτῷ ἐς Πέλλαν ἀφικομένῳ Ἀλέξανδρος. [5] ἀλλὰ Λάγγαρος μὲν ἐπανελθὼν οἴκαδε νόσῳ ἐτελεύτησεν. 46 Polyaenus 8.60 and Arrian FGrHist 156 F 9-1.23. Diod. 19.52.1: μετὰ δὲ ταῦτα βασιλικῶς [p. 84] ἤδη διεξάγων τὰ κατὰ τὴν ἀρχὴν Εὐρυδίκην μὲν καὶ Φίλιππον τοὺς βασιλεῖς, ἔτι δὲ Κύνναν, ἣν ἀνεῖλεν Ἀλκέτας, ἔθαψεν ἐν Αἰγαιαῖς, καθάπερ ἔθος ἦν τοῖς βασιλεῦσι. Diodorus used Diyllos as source, see Heckel 1983–1984. On the death see also Ael. V.H. 13.36. On the burial in particular Carney 1991, 17–26; 2000, 241; Landucci Gattinoni 2003, 44–56; Palagia 2011, 477–493; and, recently, Landucci Gattinoni 2017, 125–34, who suggests identifying Cynnane’s burial in a Macedonian tomb 30 m to the east of Tomb II of the Great Tumulus of Vergina. 44 45

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but rather upon her paternal endorsement, which manifested itself clearly in her participation on the battlefield and in her royal Macedonian dynastic wedding. This charisma secured her a military and political support base that made her not as easily disposable as Europa, although she was hardly a lesser threat for Olympias’ and Cleopatra’s prominence. Alexander not only decided to let Cynnane survive, but to exploit her lineage and status for his own goals. He expressed a political and Machiavellian attitude toward her, rather than an affective tie to the kin. The last of Alexander’s half-sisters that we know of is Thessalonice. She was likely the last of Philip II’s children before Europa and was born from Nicesipolis of Pherae, who came from the noble family of Jason of Pherae (Carney 1988, 385–404; 2006, 22).47 There are no details of her relation with Alexander, but we can explore those with Olympias. In the surviving fragments of the late grammarian Stephanus of Byzantium, it is said that she was named after her father’s Thessalian victory. Nicesipolis died soon after Thessalonice’ birth leaving the child without the critical support of her mother.48 What happened to the child thereafter is unknown. An evocative as well as vague passage of the Moralia describes the constructive and harmonious relationship between Olympias and a Thessalian partner of Philip, who was arguably Nicesipolis.49 Based on this source, it has been thought that the orphan Thessalonice joined the court of Olympias who raised her together with her half-sister Cleopatra (Carney 2000, 155–56).50 This reconstruction can be corroborated by Diodorus’ and Justin’s accounts of the later siege of Pydna. In 317/16 Thessalonice was at her stepmother’s side, as a representative of the royal court together with other female members of the Macedonian nobility.51 The affective relation built through the years with the Aeacid On her age see also Berve 1926, 2, 179; Macurdy 1932, 52; Greenwalt 1988, 93–97 for a birth date in 340s. Cf. Ellis 1976, 84; Griffith 1979, 203–646 (524); Green 1982, 129–51 who suggest her birth around the 350s. 48 Steph. Byz. s.v. “Thessalonice” (8.36): Θεσσαλονίκη· πόλις Μακεδονίας, ἥτις ἄρα ἐκαλεῖτο Ἁλία, Κασάνδρου κτίσμα ἢ ὅτι Φίλιππος τοῦ Ἀμύντου ἐκεῖ Θετταλοὺς νικήσας οὕτως ἐκάλεσε. Λούκιος δὲ ὁ Ταρραῖος περὶ Θεσσαλονίκης βιβλίον ἔγραψεν, ὅς φησιν ὅτι Φίλιππος θεασάμενος κόρην εὐπρεπῆ καὶ εὐγενῆ (Ἰάσονος γὰρ ἦν ἀδελφιδῆ) ἔγημε, καὶ τεκοῦσα τῇ κ ἡμέρᾳ τῆς λοχείας τέθνηκεν. ἀναλαβὼν οὖν ὁ Φίλιππος τὸ παιδίον ἔδωκε Νίκῃ τρέφειν καὶ ἐκάλεσε Θεσσαλονίκην· ἡ γὰρ μήτηρτοῦ παιδίου Νικασίπολις ἐκέκλητο. On the relevance of the noble origin of royal wives see Cfr. Prestianni Giallombardo 1976–1977, 81–110. 49 Plut. Mor. 141b–c (Con. praec. 23): ὁ βασιλεὺς Φίλιππος ἤρα Θεσσαλῆς γυναικὸς αἰτίαν ἐχούσης καταφαρμακεύειν αὐτόν. ἐσπούδασεν οὖν ἡ Ὀλυμπιὰς λαβεῖν τὴν ἄνθρωπον ὑποχείριον. ὡς δ᾽ εἰς ὄψιν ἐλθοῦσα τὸ τ᾽ εἶδος εὐπρεπὴς ἐφάνη καὶ διελέχθη πρὸς αὐτὴν οὐκ ἀγεννῶς οὐδ᾽ ἀσυνέτως, ‘χαιρέτωσαν’ εἶπεν ἡ Ὀλυμπιάς ‘αἱ διαβολαί σὺ γὰρ ἐν σεαυτῇ τὰ φάρμακα ἔχεις.’ ἄμαχον οὖν τι γίγνεται πρᾶγμα γαμετὴ γυνὴ καὶ νόμιμος, ἂν ἐν αὑτῇ πάντα θεμένη, καὶ προῖκα καὶ γένος καὶ φάρμακα καὶ τὸν κεστὸν αὐτόν, ἤθει καὶ ἀρετῇ κατεργάσηται τὴν εὔνοιαν. 50 Following Berve 1926, 2, 179–81 and Macurdy 1932, 52–55. 51 Diod. 19.35.4–5: Ὀλυμπιὰς δὲ πυθομένη Κάσανδρον μετὰ μεγάλης δυνάμεως πλησίον εἶναι τῆς Μακεδονίας, Ἀριστόνουν μὲν ἀπέδειξε στρατηγόν, κελεύσασα δικπολεμεῖν τοῖς περὶ Κάσανδρον, αὐτὴ δὲ παρῆλθεν εἰς Πύδναν ἔχουσα τὸν υἱὸν τὸν Ἀλεξάνδρου καὶ τὴν μητέρα αὐτοῦ Ῥωξάνην καὶ Θετταλονίκην τὴν Φιλίππου τοῦ Ἀμύντου θυγατέρα. Justin 14.6.1–3: Sed nec Olympias diu regnauit. Nam cum principum passim caedes muliebri magis quam regio more fecisset, fauorem sui in odium uertit. 47

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women, rather than with Alexander, was likely what allowed Thessalonice to survive the tumultuous years of Alexander’s ascension and those following the king’s death. She was close enough to be considered a member of the royal family, but perceived to be distant enough from the core personas of the Argead basileia, Philip and Alexander, not to be seen as an immediate contender for the rule. However, neither Alexander nor, rather, Olympias preferred to take risks, and, despite keeping her alive, they kept her close to the Aeacid court and did not arrange any marriage for her so that no claim could come from her lineage (Carney 1988, 385–404). She likely had a weaker dynastic charisma than her half-sisters, Cleopatra, Cynnane and Europa, whose share in the Argead basileia is clearer in our sources. Yet she became functional in a legitimacy claim in 317/6, when Cassander, long after Alexander’s death, resorted to her in the attempt to establish a connection with Philip II’s royal house for all of the other female descendants of the king were not attainable.52 The same desire to “create a series of ideal and family ties with Philip II … who was considered by all Macedonians the founder of their powerful kingdom” prompted Cassander’s union with Thessalonice, as well as his royal burial of Cynnane and her daughter, Adea Eurydice, together with Arrhidaeus (Landucci Gattinoni 2017, 125–34). While, by murdering Olympias, Roxane and Alexander IV, Cassander neutralised Alexander’s lineage, he also stressed his connection with the children of Philip II, Arrhidaeus, Cynnane, Adea Eurydice and Thessalonice, and claimed the basileia as their legacy.53 However, this plan was doomed to failure. Alexander’s experience had enhanced the legitimising weight of affective and personal ties over blood in the dynastic charisma. To be considered heir or successor of the king, it became crucial to have shared experience with him, to have been loyal and to have been bonded to him by mutual support. All of these aspects, or the lack thereof, made the dynastic claim of Arrhidaeus, Cynnane, Adea Euridice and Thessalonice inadequate. Until the reign of Alexander the Great, the basileia was inborn with the Argead clan for its members were the depository of the charismatic authority (Borza 1999, 14–15; Carney 2000, 7–8; Anson 2009, 276–86). However, as Elizabeth Carney (2000, 117–18) observed, there was a scarcity of male Argeads in the mid-4th century, which was potentially socially disrupting, for Macedonian society was aristocratic and ruled by kinship (Torelli and Mavrojannis 1997, 321). Philip II’s daughters, Alexander’s female kin, were not completely secluded in historical darkness for they were compelled by circumstances to become players in the game of thrones by their blood. Nevertheless, 2 Itaque audito Cassandri aduentu diffisa Macedonibus cum nuru Roxane et nepote Hercule in Pydnam urbem concedit. Proficiscenti Deidamia, Aeacidae regis filia, et Thessalonice priuigna, et ipsa clara Philippi patris nomine, multaeque aliae principum matronae. speciosus magis quam utilis grex, comites fuere. 52 Diod. 19.52.1–2; Justin 14.6.13; Anonyme Diadochengeschichte (Heidelberger Epitome) FGrHist 155 F 2.4. Cleopatra was the only one alive, and Cassander might have proposed to her (Diod. 20.37.3–6), but she was in Sardis at Antigonus’ court: Carney 1988, 385–404. 53 On Thessalonice and Cassander see also Landucci Gattinoni 2003, 39–43; Carney 2000, 161–64; 2006, 22 and 108, on Cassander’s intention to stress a link to Philip and not to Alexander. See Diod. 19.52.1–7 who highlights this aspect.

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the affective relations shaped their roles more than the identity patterns linked to their kinship. Cleopatra and Alexander participated in a consistent political, moral and cultural education and experience, which caused them to develop a communal sense of belonging. They shared not only mutual loyalty and support, but also a communal political utility and vision. Olympias was doubtlessly pivotal in the creation and preservation of this familial bond between her children. Thessalonice too, although she was at least partially of a different lineage, could be included in and protected by the same familial unit. She did not become a rival or a threat to her half-siblings for she was brought up in the same family. Conversely, both Cynnane and Europa were not part of Alexander’s unit. The murder of Cleopatra’s child speaks for itself, but Cynnane’s case is more complicated: although she was presented and perceived as a member of Philip II’s family and representative of his lineage, she belonged to a diverse dynastic unit from that of Olympias, Alexander and Cleopatra, and by extension Alexander of Molossia and Thessalonice, although she shared their paternal Argead blood. The relationships within Alexander’s oikos engendered in blood, yet did not end with blood. A personal bond formed by the intimate relation, rather than the awareness of a genealogical shared identity, was at the base of brotherhood and sisterhood in Alexander’s oikos. Alexander’s siblings and cousins were all carriers of a dynastic charisma of the Argead clan for they were Philip II’s relatives and offspring. As such they were perceived and exploited by the Macedonian nobility as fonts of legitimacy,54 almost as relics of the deceased king and kingdom, manipulated as properties by the Successors, and eventually eliminated when continuity with the Argeads became undesirable (Carney 1988, 385–404). The Diadochs’ interest in fostering links with the female relatives of Philip II was, however, meaningfully opposite to Alexander’s interest in arranging unions for them. While he looked for a brother-in-law who could neutralise Cynnane’s dynastic potential, Alexander did not pursue any marriage for the sisters already in his affective sphere, Cleopatra and Thessalonice. Not only did he prefer to prevent his sisters from creating new dynastic units, but, in Cleopatra’s case, he also stressed her belonging to his own basileia. Olympias, Alexander and Cleopatra formed an inner circle inside the basileia. Their cooperation, their loyalty to each other, originated in their closeness and intimacy, and in the actions of Olympias, whose affection for her children shaped the oikos of Alexander’s basileia. The love of Alexander’s family still powerfully claims its seat in the political chessboard of history. Personal relations and affective bonds are rooted in human nature. As the current forced isolation has inscribed in our existence, we cannot live deprived of our intimate friends and family without renouncing to some extent to our humanity. Our lives, our histories exist in day-to-day encounters and the sharing of experiences, 54

Carney 1988, 385–404: “all three [sisters] died exactly because they were Philip II’s daughters and Alexander’s sisters”. On the female relative of the king as font of legitimacy see Ogden 1999, xix and Heckel 2018, 19–30.

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rituals, moral thought, as well as of social and political visions. Alexander’s life was no different.

Bibliography

Ager, S. (2006) The power of excess: royal incest and the Ptolemaic dynasty. Anthropologica 48, 165–86. Ager, S. (2017) Symbol and ceremony: royal weddings in the Hellenistic age. In A. Erskine, L. Llewellyn-Jones and S. Wallace (eds) The Hellenistic Court. Monarchic Power and Elite Society from Alexander to Cleopatra, 165–88. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. Anson, E.M. (2009) Philip II, Amyntas Perdicca, and Macedonian royal succession. Historia 58, 276–86. Anson, E.M. (2013) Alexander the Great: Themes and Issues. London, Bloomsbury. Asirvatham, S.R. (2016) Youthful folly and intergenerational violence in Greco-Roman narratives on Alexander the Great. In T. Howe and S. Müller (eds) Folly and Violence in the Court of Alexander the Great and His Successors? 11–24. Bochum and Freiburg, Projekt verlag. Berve, H. (1926) Das Alexanderreich aus prosopographischer Grundlage. Vols. 2. Munich, C.H. Beck. Blackwell, C.W. (1999) In the Absence of Alexander: Harpalus and the Failure of Macedonian Authority. New York, Peter Lang. Boardman, J. (2019) Alexander the Great. From His Death to the Present Day. Princeton and Oxford, Princeton University Press. Borza, E.N. (1990) In the Shadow of Olympus: The Emergence of Macedon. Princeton, Princeton University Press. Borza, E.N. (1999) Before Alexander: Constructing Early Macedonia. Claremont, CA, Regina Books. Bosworth, A.B. (2002) The Legacy of Alexander: Politics, Warfare and Propaganda under the Successors. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Braccesi, L. (2019) Olimpiade regina di Macedonia. La madre di Alessandro Magno. Salerno, Salerno Editrice. Cabanes, P. (1976) L’Épire: de la mort de Pyrrhos à la conquête romaine (272–167 av. J.C.). Paris, Université de Franche-Comté. Cabanes, P. (1980) Société et institutions dans les monarchies de Grèce septentrionale au IV siècle. Revue des études grecques 113, 324–351. Caiazza, A. (ed.) (1993) Plutarco. Precetti Politici. Napoli, M. D’Auria Editore in Napoli. Carney, E.D. (1987) Olympias. Ancient Society 18, 35–62. Carney, E.D. (1988) The sisters of Alexander the Great: royal relicts. Historia 37, 385–404. Carney, E.D. (1991) The female burial in the antechamber of Tomb II at Vergina. The Ancient World 22, 17–26. Carney, E.D. (1992) The politics of polygamy: Olympias, Alexander, and the death of Philip II. Historia, 169–89. Carney, E.D. (1993) Olympias and the image of the royal virago. Phoenix 47, 29–56. Carney, E.D. (2000) Women and Monarchy in Macedonia. Norman, OK, University of Oklahoma. Carney, E.D. (2004) Women and military leadership in Macedonia. The Ancient World 35, 184–95. Carney, E.D. (2006) Olympias. New York, Routledge. Carney, E.D. (2013) Arsinoë of Egypt and Macedon: A Royal Life. Oxford and New York, Oxford University Press. Carney, E.D. (2015) Elite education and high culture in Macedonia. In E. Carney, King and Court in Macedonia: Rivalry, Treason and Conspiracy, 191–205. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales (= 2003, W. Heckel and L.A. Tritle (eds) Crossroads of History. The Age of Alexander, 49–65. Claremont, CA, Regina Books.)

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D’Agostini, M. (2020) Can powerful women be popular? Amastris: shaping a Persian wife into a celebrated Hellenistic queen. In R. Faber (ed.) Celebrity, Fame and Infamy in the Hellenistic World. Phoenix Supplementary Volumes, 70–89. Toronto, University of Toronto Press. De Martinis, L. (2012) I democratici ateniesi dopo Cheronea. Alla luce del nuovo Iperide. Aevum 86, 39–62. De Martinis, L. (2013) Licurgo fra tradizione e innovazione. Nuova Secondaria 8, 24–54. Ellis, J.R. (1971) Amyntas, Perdikka, Philip II and Alexander the Great. A study in conspiracy. Journal of Hellenic Studies 91, 15–24. Ellis, J.R. (1976) Philip II and Macedonian Imperialism. London, Thames and Hudson. Green, P. (1982) The royal tombs of Vergina: a historical analysis. In W.L. Adams and E.N. Borza (eds) Philip II, Alexander the Great and the Macedonian Heritage, 129–151. Washington DC, University Press of America. Greenwalt, W.S. (1988) The marriageability age at the Argead court: 360–317 BC. The Classical World 82, 93–97. Griffith, G.T. (1979) Part two. In N.G.L. Hammond and G.T. Griffith, A History of Macedonia, Vol. 2, 203–646. Oxford, Claredon Press. Hamilton, J.R. (1965) Alexander’s early life. Greece & Rome 12, 117–24. Hammond, N.G.L. (1967) Epirus. Oxford, Clarendon Press. Hammond, N.G.L. (1989) The Macedonian State: Origins, Institutions and History. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Heckel, W. (1979) Philip II, Kleopatra and Karanos. Rivista di Filologia e Istruzione Classica 107, 385–93. Heckel, W. (1981) Philip and Olympias (337/6). In G.S. Shrimpton and D.J. McCargar (eds) Classical Contributions: Studies in Honour of M.F. McGregor, 51–57. Locust Valley, NY, J.J. Augustin. Heckel, W. (1983–4) Kynnane the Illyrian. Rivista Storica dell’Antichità 13–14, 193–200. Heckel, W. (2006) Who’s Who in the Age of Alexander the Great.Prosopography of Alexander’s Empire. Malden, MA and Oxford, Wiley-Blackwell. Heckel, W. (2018) King’s daughters, sisters, and wives: fonts and conduits of power and legitimacy. In C. Dunn and E. Carney (eds) Royal Women and Dynastic Loyalty, 19–30. Cham, Palgrave Macmillan, Springer International Publishing. Heckel, W. and Yardley, J.C. (1997) Epitome of the Philippic History of Pompeius Trogus. Volume I: Books 11–12: Alexander the Great. Oxford, Oxford University Press Heckel, W., Howe, T. and Müller, S. (2017) The giver of the bride, the bridegroom, and the bride (Plu. Alex. 10.4): a study of the death of Philip II and its aftermath. In T. Howe, S. Müller and R. Stoneman (eds) Ancient Historiography on War and Empire, 92–124. Oxford and Philadelphia, Oxbow Books. Howe, T. (2015) Cleopatra-Eurydike, Olympias and a “weak” Alexander. In P. Wheatley and E.J. Baynham (eds) East and West in the World Empire of Alexander the Great, 133–46. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Landucci, F. (2014) Filippo II e le “Storie Filippiche” un protagonista storico e storiografico. In Studi sull’Epitome di Giustino. I. Dagli Assiri a Filippo II di Macedonia (Contributi di storia antica 12), 233–60. Milan, Vita e Pensiero. Landucci, F. (2019) Alessandro Magno. Salerno, Salerno Editrice. Landucci Gattinoni, F. (2003) L’arte del potere: vita e opere di Cassandro di Macedonia (Historia Einzelschriften 171). Stuttgart, F. Steiner. Landucci Gattinoni, F. (2008) Diodoro Siculo. Biblioteca Storica. Libro XVIII. Commento Storico. Milano, Vita e Pensiero. Landucci Gattinoni, F. (2012) Filippo re dei Macedoni. Bologna, il Mulino.

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Landucci Gattinoni, F. (2017) Royal tombs and cult of the dead kings in early Hellenistic Macedonia. In T. Howe, S. Müller and R. Stoneman (eds) Ancient Historiography on War and Empire, 125–34. Oxford and Philadelphia, Oxbow Books. Lane Fox, R. (2011) Philip’s and Alexander’s Macedon. In R. Lane Fox (ed.) Brill’s Companion to Ancient Macedon: Studies in the Archaeology and History of Macedon. 650 BC–300 AD, 367–91. Leiden and Boston, Brill. Macurdy, G.H. (1927) Queen Eurydice and the evidence for woman power in early Macedonia. American Journal of Philology 48, 201–14. Macurdy, G.H. (1932) Hellenistic Queens. A Study of Woman-power in Macedonia, Seleucid Syria, and Ptolemaic Egypt. Baltimore, Johns Hopkins Press. Mortensen, C. (1997) Olympias. Royal Wife and Mother at the Macedonian Court. Doctoral dissertation. Brisbane, University of Queensland. Müller, S. (2016) Die Argeaden. Geschichte Makedoniens bis zum Zeitalter Alexanders des Großen. Paderborn, Ferdinand Schöningh. Ogden, D. (1999) Polygamy, Prostitutes, and Death. The Hellenistic Dynasties. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. Ogden, D. (2011) The royal families of Argead Macedon and the Hellenistic world. In B. Rawson (ed.) A Companion to Families in the Greek and Roman Worlds, 92–107. Malden, MA and Oxford, Wiley-Blackwell. Oliverio, G. (1933) Cirenaica. La stele dei nuovi comandamenti e dei cereali. Il decreto di Anastasio I su l’ordinamento politico militare della Cirenaica. Bergamo, Ist. It. d’Arti Grafiche ed. O’Neil, J.L. (1999) Olympias: the Macedonians will never let themselves be ruled by a woman. Prudentia 31, 1–14. Palagia, O. (2011) Hellenistic art. In R. Lane Fox (ed.) Brill’s Companion to Ancient Macedon, 477–493. Leiden and Boston, Brill. Penrose, Jr., W.D. (2016) Postcolonial Amazons: Female Masculinity and Courage in Ancient Greek and Sanskrit Literature. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Prandi, L. (1998) Few remarks on the Amyntas conspiracy. In W. Will (ed.) Alexander der Grosse: eine Welteroberung und ihr Hintergrund, Vorträge des Internationalen Bonner Alexanderkolloquiums, 91–101. Bonn, R. Habelt. Prandi, L. (2013) Diodoro Siculo. Biblioteca Storica. Libro XVII. Commento Storico. Milano, Vita e Pensiero. Prandi, L. (2015) Alessandro il Grande in Giustino. In C. Bearzot, F. Landucci (eds) Studi sull’Epitome di Giustino. Da Alessandro Magno a Filippo V di Macedonia (Contributi di storia antica 13), 3–15. Milan, Vita e Pensiero. Prestianni Giallombardo, A.M. (1976–1977) Diritto matrimoniale, ereditario e dinastico nella Macedonia di Filippo II. Rivista storica dell’Antichità 6–7, 81–110. Psoma, S. (2006) Entre l’armée et l’oikos: l’éducation dans le royaume de Macédoine. In A.-M. Guimier-Sorbets, M.B. Hatzopoulos and Y. Morizot (eds) Rois, cités, necropoles: institutions, rites et monuments in Macedoine (Meletemata 45), 285–99. Athens, Centre de recherches de l’antiquité grecque et romain. Sahlins, M. (2011) What kinship is (Part 1). The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 17, 2–19. Sahlins, M. (2011) What kinship is (Part 2). The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 17, 227–42. Strootman, R. (2014) Courts and Elites in the Hellenistic Empires. The Near East after the Achaemenids, c. 330 to 30 BCE. Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press. Torelli, M. and T. Mavrojannis (1997) Grecia. Guida Archeologica. Milan, Mondadori. Tronson, A. (1984) Satyrus the Peripatetic and the marriages of Philip II. JHS 104, 116–26. Whitehorne, J. (1994) Cleopatras. London and New York, Routledge.

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Worthington, I. (2010) “Worldwide empire” versus “glorious enterprise”: Diodorus and Justin on Philip II and Alexander the Great. In E. Carney and D. Ogden (eds) Philip II and Alexander the Great. Father and Son, Lives and Afterlives, 165–74. Oxford and New York, Oxford University Press. Zecchini, G. and Mineo, B. (2016–2018) Abrégé des “Histoires Philippiques”de Trogue Pompée. Vols. 2. Paris, Les belles lettres.

Chapter 2 Alexander’s Wet-Nurse Lanice and Her Sons

Sulochana Asirvatham There is a brief but memorable moment in Arrian when Alexander, after murdering Cleitus, laments his action against his friend as well as the pain this has caused Cleitus’s sister Lanice, his one-time wet-nurse, who lost her only two (unnamed) sons fighting for him at Miletus (4.9.3). Curtius also records the lament over “Hellanice” and refers to the loss of her two sons (8.1.21; 8.2.8–9); Justin tells the story without naming the sister (126.10–11). We hear of Lanice in only one other context: as the mother of Proteas, Alexander’s famous drinking buddy and syntrophos (Ath. 5.2, followed by Ael. 12.26), who cannot be one of the two sons who died before Cleitus’s death. I suggest that there were two separate traditions about Lanice that exploited her role as a “wet-nurse” in different ways, reflecting the romanticizing and, alternately, the judgmental aspects of ancient discourse that surrounded the practice of wet-nursing. In the first, the figures of Lanice and her sons are “protectors” of Alexander, and as such may have called to mind in the audience stories of protector nymphs such as Amalthea, who nursed infants in trouble, such as Zeus and Dionysus (with whom, as we know, Alexander had special relationships), and the ecstatic dancing soldiers who assisted her. A second, sensationalist version, seen in Athenaeus and Aelian, saw her as the mother of one drunk, Proteas, and τροφός of another, Alexander. There is a brief but memorable moment in Arrian’s Anabasis when, in the aftermath of Alexander’s murder of Cleitus the Black in a drunken rage at the banquet in Maracanda, calling out Cleitus’s name, Alexander laments the pain his death will cause his sister Lanice, daughter of Dropidas,1 the woman who raised him (αὐτὸν…ἀναθρεψαμένη: 4.9.3): 1

Arrian also labels Cleitus “of Dropidas” at 3.27.4. The existence of Lanice is not up for doubt, despite the rarity of her name. A scholion to Aelius Aristides refers to a sister of Cimon named “Lanice”, but this must be an error for Elpinice (Jebb 118.13, line 14): “And Cimon, having been denounced by Pericles for the matter concerning his sister Lanice and the island of Scyrus, was harmed as if by someone betraying him.”: κατηγορηθεὶς δὲ ὁ Κίμων ὑπὸ Περικλέους ἐπὶ Λανίκῃ τῇ ἀδελφῇ καὶ ἐπὶ Σκύρῳ τῇ νήσῳ, ὡς ὑπ’ αὐτοῦ προδιδομένου ἐξεβλήθη). The name appears on

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“What wonderful wages for child-rearing he had repaid to her upon reaching adulthood, she who lived to see her two sons die fighting on his behalf at Miletus and her brother slayed by his very own hand.” (ὡς καλὰ ἄρα αὐτῇ τροφεῖα ἀποτετικὼς εἴη ἀνδρωθείς, ἥ γε τοὺς μὲν παῖδας τοὺς ἑαυτῆς ὑπὲρ αὐτοῦ μαχομένους ἐπεῖδεν ἀποθανόντας, τὸν ἀδελφὸν δὲ αὐτῆς αὐτὸς αὐτοχειρίᾳ ἔκτεινε: 4.9.3–4). Curtius, too, records this lament over “Hellanice” in his introduction to the Cleitus incident, giving the nurse significant credit for Cleitus’s high rank among the Macedonian nobles: because Cleitus had saved Alexander’s life at the Granicus, and because Cleitus’s sister had reared Alexander (quae Alexandrum educaverat: 8.1.21), the king entrusted the strongest part of his empire to him. In the aftermath of Cleitus’s death, Curtius again refers twice to Lanice (as Alexander’s nurse, nutrix, in 8.2.8; 8.2.9) and, as in Arrian, Alexander is made to lament the ill reward he gave her for her nurturance (Hanc…nutrici meae gratiam rettuli, “This is the repayment I have made my nurse”) and invoke the loss of her “two sons” (duo filii) who “died at Miletus for my glory” (apud Miletum pro mea gloria occubuere mortem: 8.2.8). Justin in his epitome of Pompeius Trogus’s Liber Historiarum Philippicarum tells a similar story but does not give Cleitus’s sister’s name, nor does he mention her two sons.2 Plutarch does not mention Alexander’s lament for Cleitus’s sister at all. We hear of Lanice in one other context – where we also learn the name of one of her sons. Athenaeus cites the Macedonian writer Hippolochus (for whom Athenaeus is the only source) for the story of a famous Macedonian drinker named Proteas, the descendant of Proteas who was a famous drinking buddy and σύντροφος of Alexander, and son of Alexander’s nurse (τροφός) Lanice: εἰπὼν ὁ Ἱππόλοχος ὡς Πρωτέας ἀπόγονος ἐκείνου Πρωτέου Λανίκης υἱοῦ, ἥτις ἐγεγόνει τροφὸς Ἀλεξάνδρου τοῦ βασιλέως, ἔπινε πλεῖστον (ἦν γὰρ πολυπότης ὡς καὶ ὁ πάππος αὐτοῦ Πρωτέας ὁ συγγενόμενος Ἀλεξάνδρῳ) … (Ath. 4.2) Hippolochus, having stated that Proteas, the descendant of that famous Proteas son of Lanice, who had been the nurse of Alexander the king, drank prodigiously (for he was a big drinker just like his grandfather Proteas, the friend of Alexander, had been) …

Athenaeus’s contemporary Aelian also refers to “Proteas son of Lanice, who was brought up with Alexander the king” (Πρωτέας ὁ Λανίκης μἑν υἱός, Ἀλεξάνδρου δὲ τοῦ βασιλέως σύντροφος), as one of those who were most addicted to drink (ποτίστατοι: VH 12.26), alongside Xenagoras the Rhodian, Heraclides the Wrestler and Alexander himself. two and possibly three inscriptions: IG II² 11947/8: (Λανίκη…Νικαγόρου θυγάτηρ); IG XII, 3 580 (Λανίκης); SEG 50 265([Φ]λα(ουίας) Νίκης; app. crit. Lapis ΛΑΝΙΚΗΣ (possibly Λανίκης? Cf. IG II² 11947/11948. Stroud). 2 Just. Epit. 12.6.10–11: Accesserat…paenitentiae nutricis suae et sororis Cliti recordatio, cuius absentis eum maxime pudebat: tam foedam illi alimentorum suorum mercedem redditam, ut, in cuius manibus pueritiam egerat, huic iuuenis et uictor pro beneficiis funera remitteret. “In addition to his other reasons for repentence, he had the memory of his nurse, Cleitus’s sister; even in her absence, he was greatly ashamed of his action. Such a foul payment had been made to her in exchange for his upbringing, that the one in whose very arms he had spent his childhood he repaid, as a young man and a conqueror, with deaths instead of kindnesses.”

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Another Athenaeus passage (10.44) reveals an additional source for Alexander’s friend Proteas and his drinking habits: Ephippus, who in his On the Funeral of Alexander and Hephaistion depicted a drinking contest between Proteas and Alexander. It was after this that the king fell ill and died; according to Ephippus, the actual cause of his death was revenge from Dionysus for destroying his city of Thebes.3 There are some intriguing inconsistences between the Arrian/Curtius references to Lanice and the Athenaeus/Aelian references. For one thing, neither Athenaeus nor Aelian mentions Cleitus, who was by far one of Alexander’s most famous Companions in antiquity, and whose position as protector of the greatest part of his Asian empire was partly secured through Lanice herself (at least according to Curtius: 8.1.21). But the absence is understandable in relation to Athenaeus’s and Aelian’s mutual main concern: it is only in the context of “famous drunks in history”, a category that included, but was not limited to, Alexander and assorted Macedonians, that Proteas appears. While Cleitus’s parrhesia was certainly increased by his own drunkenness, his fame did not come from being a habitual souse, but from saving Alexander’s life at Granicus and from disapproving of those who flattered the king (Arrian Anab. 4.8.4; Plut. Alex. 51.1; see Bosworth 1996, 101 n. 12); it is not surprising, then, that he would be of limited interest to these writers. (Indeed, Cleitus appears nowhere in the works of either Athenaeus or Aelian.) The focus of the present article is a more puzzling inconsistency between the Arrian/ Curtius tradition and the Hippolochean/Ephippean traditions used by Athenaeus and Aelian. In both Arrian and Curtius, Alexander bemoans the fact that Lanice has now lost her only two remaining sons. The Proteas of Athenaeus and Aelian, however, was a σύντροφος of Alexander who was clearly alive around the time of the king’s death. We can accept that Lanice was the mother of two sons who died at Miletus as well as the mother of a famous drunk named Proteas who was Alexander’s σύντροφος. If we accept the existence of a Proteas, son of Lanice, who was alive at Alexander’s death, however, we cannot also accept that Lanice’s lost her only two sons at Miletus. (Curtius makes the same claim indirectly when his Alexander calls Cleitus “the only 3

Of Ephippus we possess little. There are testimonia (BNJ 126 T1-3) in the Suda (s.v.); in a list of Alexander’s personnel in Egypt (Arr. Anab. 3.5.2-3); and in a list of authors writing on characteristics of trees (Plin. NH 12.63). The sole fragments of his work appear in Athenaeus and reinforce the sensationalist tone of the story of Dionysus’s revenge on Alexander noted above: in addition to providing information about Macedonian inebriation, Ephippus also described Alexander’s lavish dinner parties for his friends (Ath. 4.27 = BNJ 126 F 2) as well as the luxurious gold throne and silver-footed couches on which Alexander conducted business with his Companions (Ath. 12.53 = BNJ 126 F 4). Ephippus seems to have followed the Ephemerides tradition that Alexander died from an illness, which Athenaeus mentions immediately after the mention of Proteas, but his version curiously lacks mention of Medius’s banquet, which is mentioned in both the Ephemerides tradition (followed by Plutarch and Arrian) as the place where Alexander got fatally ill and in the alternative tradition (followed by Diodorus, Curtius and Justin) as the place where Alexander was poisoned. The absence of Medius in the Ephippus tradition (as received by Athenaeus and Aelian), however, does not concern us here.

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solace for the bereavement” (unicam orbitatis solacium) of Lanice after her sons’ deaths – which negates the possibility that there was another son of Alexander’s age that she could turn to for comfort.) Speculative as such a proposition is, I would like to suggest the possibility of two separate traditions about Lanice, in both of which the existence/characterization of the sons is relevant. These exploited her role as a “wet-nurse” in different ways, reflecting both the romanticizing and the judgmental aspects of ancient discourse that surrounded the practice of wet-nursing. In the first, the figures of Lanice and her sons are “protectors” of Alexander, and as such may have called to mind in the audience stories of protector nymphs such as Amalthea, who nursed infants in trouble, such as Zeus and Dionysus (with whom, as we know, Alexander had special relationships), and the ecstatic dancing soldiers who assisted her. A second, sensationalist version, found in Athenaeus and Aelian, saw her as the mother of one drunk, Proteas, and τροφός of another, Alexander. We will spend most of our effort here analyzing the more complex tradition that is reflected in Arrian, Curtius and Justin, and conclude with some remarks on the second, reflected in Athenaeus and Aelian.

Identifying Lanice’s Sons Before proposing a quasi-mythical reading of Arrian’s reference to Lanice and her sons, it seems worth asking: is it possible that one (the pair of dead sons) or the other (Proteas) is a fiction? There is some other evidence, beyond Athenaeus’s citations of Hippolochus and Ephippus and Aelian’s reference, that Proteas existed. While it is impossible to prove definitively, Beth Carney (1981, 152–53; followed by Heckel 2006, 87; cf. Bosworth 1995, 64) has identified this son of Lanice with Proteas son of Andronicus, who Arrian said was sent by Antipater to Siphnos in 333 (Anab. 2.2.4–5; 20.2). (If we accept this identification, it has the attractive side-benefit of identifying the name of Lanice’s husband, Andronicus.) Along with Proteas may come the name of yet another possible son of Lanice. In Amatorius 16, Plutarch tells an anecdote in which Alexander asked Theodorus, brother of Proteas, to send him a certain girl who sang and played well in exchange for ten talents, unless he himself was in love with her (Amat. 16). The sympotic (albeit not directly alcohol-infused) context adds some weight to the identification of this Proteas as the same Proteas found in Athenaeus and Aelian. The two sons who died at Miletus are more obscure. It is curious that, despite the specificity of their place of death, these two heroes are unnamed and appear in no sources other than Arrian and Curtius, nor do they appear in Arrian’s rather substantial description of the Siege of Miletus (Anab. 1.18.3–1.19.6; Curtius’s version, if it were extant, would have appeared in the lost Book I of the Historiae Alexandri Magni). As should be clear from the above discussion, the truth about Lanice’s sons cannot be recovered with any certainty. But given the shadowy nature of the two dead sons,

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it seems possible that Lanice in reality only had two sons (perhaps Proteas and the once-mentioned Theodorus), and that Arrian’s and Curtius’s source(s) for the lament over Lanice posited these sons as “dead” for the purposes of the story; such would be motivated by the desire to increase the pathos surrounding Cleitus’s death to highlight the intimacy and depth of Alexander’s feelings of remorse. In any case, whether Lanice’s two dead sons are real or imagined (or real but not dead at the time of Cleitus’s death), the invocation of two unnamed dead sons has its own narrative logic that I suggest may be intimately related to the religious motifs that permeate the Cleitus narrative, especially that of Arrian, which may in turn come from an early source tradition that exploited positive Greek mythological stereotypes about wet nurses.

The Dioscuri and Lanice’s Sons: A Double Religious Betrayal? With slightly different emphases, Arrian and Curtius both focus on religious impropriety as a possible cause of Alexander’s bad behavior. As mentioned above, Dionysus’s intoxicating influence has a significant impact on Alexander’s behavior in Athenaeus – to the point that it actually kills him. While Athenaeus’s source, Ephippus, points to drunkenness as the culprit, with Dionysus’s revenge for the destruction of Thebes serving as proximate cause, Arrian and Curtius tell a very different tale of Dionysian revenge: the result is still drunkenness, but it has a different victim, Cleitus, and Alexander’s crime is not the destruction of Thebes but his failure to sacrifice to Dionysus. In his introduction to the lethal banquet at Maracanda, Arrian tells us that Alexander decided to skip his yearly sacrifice to Dionysus: εἶναι…ἡμέραν ἱερὰν τοῦ Διονύσου Μακεδόσι καὶ θύειν Διονύσῳ ὅσα ἔτη ἐν αὐτῇ Ἀλέξανδρον· τὸν δὲ τοῦ Διονύσου μὲν ἐν τῷ τότε ἀμελῆσαι λέγουσι, Διοσκούροιν δὲ θῦσαι, ἐξ ὅτου δὴ ἐπιφρασθέντα τοῖν Διοσκούροιν τὴν θυσίαν. (4.8.1–2) For the Macedonians there was a day sacred to Dionysus, and Alexander sacrificed to Dionysus every year on that day. But they say that he neglected Dionysus this time around, and sacrificed to the Dioscouri instead, for whatever reason it occurred to him to sacrifice to them.

After Cleitus’s death, Arrian says that some prophets “sang the wrath of Dionysus“ (μῆνιν ἐκ Διονύσου ᾖδον: 4.9.5) for Alexander’s failure to sacrifice to that god, as was his normal custom; the historian praises Alexander for being willing to see this neglect, rather than his own depravity, as the reason for the god’s anger, and for sacrificing to Dionysus in the aftermath. Curtius does not mention Dionysus at the beginning of the Cleitus incident, but he has a distraught Alexander wonder, in the aftermath, if he was driven to commit the murder by the anger of the gods. Remembering that he had forgotten his annual sacrifice to Dionysus (Liber Pater), he assumes that the murder occurring during a drunken feast was the god’s anger made manifest (ira dei manifesta; 8.2.6). Interesting for our purposes are the deities to whom, according to Arrian, Alexander does sacrifice instead of to Dionysus: the Dioscuri. Immediately after

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telling us about Alexander’s sacrifice, Arrian notes that the drinking was going on for a long time (πόρρω…τοῦ πότου προϊόντος), and that by this point Alexander had innovated more barbaric modes of drinking (τὰ τῶν πότων ἤδη Ἀλεξάνδρῳ ἐς τὸ βαρβαρικώτερον νενεωτέριστο: 4.8.2). While the drinking was underway, conversation arose concerning the paternity of Castor and Polydeuces – how it was taken away from Tyndareus and ascribed to Zeus instead. In response, some of Alexander’s flatterers (“the sort of men who continually destroyed and never ceased wearing down the affairs of kings, from time immemorial”; οἷοι δὴ ἄνδρες διέφθειράν τε ἀεὶ καὶ οὔποτε παύσονται ἐπιτρίβοντες τὰ τῶν ἀεὶ βασιλέων πράγματα: 4.8.3) said that the twins were not worthy of comparison to the king; Arrian notes too that the flatterers compared Alexander to Heracles, and that they claimed jealousy prevented others from giving Alexander his due honors. The tone of the passage registers disapproval of Alexander’s drinking (contained in the word “barbaric”, whose connotations at this point in Greek literature are unambiguous) but Arrian reserves his greatest distaste for those who encouraged Alexander’s self-aggrandizement as the son of a god. He also presents Alexander’s sacrifice to the Dioscuri over Dionysus, as well as ensuing conversation about the Dioscuri, as precipitating events for the clash between Alexander and Cleitus: Κλεῖτον δὲ δῆλον μὲν εἶναι πάλαι ἤδη ἀχθόμενον τοῦ τε Ἀλεξάνδρου τῇ ἐς τὸ βαρβαρικώτερον μετακινήσει καὶ τῶν κολακευόντων αὐτὸν τοῖς λόγοις· τότε δὲ καὶ αὐτὸν πρὸς τοῦ οἴνου παροξυνόμενον οὐκ ἐᾶν οὔτε ἐς τὸ θεῖον ὑβρίζειν, οὔτε [ἐς] τὰ τῶν πάλαι ἡρώων ἔργα ἐκφαυλίζοντας χάριν ταύτην ἄχαριν προστιθέναι Ἀλεξάνδρῳ. (4.8.4) But Cleitus had for a long time clearly been angered at Alexander’s metamorphosis towards a more barbaric mode, and by the words of those who were flattering him. And at this time, spurred on by wine, Cleitus would not allow them to outrage the divine or to disparage the deeds of ancient heroes, for the sake of rendering Alexander a thankless favor.

Curtius, on the other hand, does not mention that Alexander sacrificed to the Dioscuri or that a debate on their paternity took place at Maracanda, but the latter idea emerges in his introduction to Callisthenes’s stand against proskynesis, where we are told that Alexander’s flatterers “were opening heaven to him, boasting that Hercules and Father Liber and Castor with Pollux would yield to a new divinity.” (caelum illi aperiebant, Herculemque et Patrem Liberum, et cum Pollice Castorem novo numine cessuros esse iactabant.) Despite the differences in their narrative placement of the Dioscuri, it is worth noting that the two Roman sources that refer to the critique of Alexander’s self-identification with the Dioscuri, Arrian and Curtius, are also the only ones that mention Lanice’s two sons. This prompts the question of whether Arrian and Curtius used a source or sources that referred to both the Dioscuri and Lanice and her dead sons. The fact that Plutarch mentions the Dioscuri and ignores Lanice, and that Justin, conversely, ignores the Dioscuri and mentions Lanice (without her two sons) does not necessarily negate the idea that Dioscuri and Lanice’s sons were connected in an early source, and that the connection was made through the motif of religious betrayal. In

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Alex. 50.7, Plutarch foists the religious blame entirely onto Cleitus, casually mentioning Alexander’s sacrifice to the Dioscuri – Cleitus went to the banquet of the king after the latter had sacrificed to the Dioscuri (50.7) – while attending assiduously to Cleitus’s own ill-omened sacrifice, for which Plutarch happens to be the only source. One wonders if Plutarch is trying to throw his reader off the track of Alexander’s famous religious impropriety, which, as I have argued elsewhere (Asirvatham 2001), he does throughout the Life. Whereas Arrian and Curtius both entertain the possibility that Alexander was partly responsible for the disaster, Plutarch (who rather convolutedly says that it was some bit of bad luck on Alexander’s part that furnished his anger and drunkenness as a motive for Cleitus’s evil genius: δυστυχίᾳ τινὶ…τοῦ βασιλέως, ὀργὴν καὶ μέθην πρόφασιν τῷ Κλείτου δαίμονι παρασχόντος: Alex. 50.1) makes no mention of Alexander’s religious error. Instead, he highlights Alexander’s own (noble) attempts to compensate for it in the name of Cleitus’s safety: ὁ δὲ θύων μὲν ἐτύγχανεν, ἀφεὶς δὲ τὴν θυσίαν ἐβάδιζε καὶ τρία τῶν κατεσπεισμένων προβάτων ἐπηκολούθησεν αὑτῷ. πυθόμενος δὲ ὁ βασιλεὺς ἀνεκοινοῦτο τοῖς μάντεσιν Ἀριστάνδρῳ καὶ Κλεομάντει τῷ Λάκωνι. φησάντων δὲ πονηρὸν εἶναι τὸ σημεῖον, ἐκέλευσεν ἐκθύσασθαι κατὰ τάχος ὑπὲρ τοῦ Κλείτου. καὶ γὰρ αὐτὸς ἡμέρᾳ τρίτῃ κατὰ τοὺς ὕπνους ἰδεῖν ὄψιν ἄτοπον δόξαι γὰρ αὑτῷ τόν Κλεῖτον μετὰ τῶν Παρμενίωνος υἱῶν ἐν μέλασιν ἱματίοις καθέζεσθαι, τεθνηκότων ἁπάντων. οὐ μὴν ἔφθασεν ὁ Κλεῖτος ἐκθυσάμενος, ἀλλ᾽ εὐθὺς ἐπὶ τὸ δεῖπνον ἧκε, τεθυκότος τοῦ βασιλέως Διοσκούροις. (Alex. 50.2–4) [Alexander having summoned him to sample some imported Greek fruit], Cleitus happened to be sacrificing but he abandoned the sacrifice and came, and three of the sheep who had already been consecrated with sacrificial wine followed after him. Having learned of this, Alexander told his soothsayers Aristander and Cleomantis the Lacedaemonian about it. When they informed him that the omen was bad, he ordered them to quickly sacrifice on Cleitus’s behalf. For as a matter of fact, Alexander himself had seen a strange vision in his sleep two nights before; for it seemed to him that Cleitus was sitting with Parmenio’s sons in black robes and they were all dead. But Cleitus did not finish sacrificing, but immediately came to the dinner of the king, who had sacrificed to the Dioscuri.

In this scenario, there is no need to highlight Alexander’s guilt by exploiting remorse for his nurse. As for Justin, who leaves out the Dioscuri: perhaps it is no coincidence that his is the only version of the Cleitus episode that mentions no religious figures whatsoever. Cleitus’s “crime” was in pointing out Philip’s superiority to Alexander; there is no mention of Alexander’s pretense to divine paternity, let alone his desire to surpass the semi-divine figures of Heracles, Dionysus and the Dioscuri. With the caveat that Justin’s work is only a summary of Trogus’s work: his inclusion of Lanice is an additional testament to the historicity of Alexander’s lament to her, but the absence of sons may suggest that they were “special additions” that existed in at least one but perhaps not all sources on Cleitus’s death. In sum, while we cannot know whether an original source or sources linked the Dioscuri narratively with Lanice’s two sons, as we do not have a named source for

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either aspect of Arrian’s story,4 the similar religious concerns pointed to by Arrian and Curtius, who are also the only sources for Lanice’s two sons, suggest the possibility that Arrian’s “balanced” version – which begins with Alexander’s misstep regarding Dionysus and the Dioscuri, and ends with another reference to Dionysus scorned and Lanice’s sons – reflects an older tradition sharing a similar concern with religious propriety. If so, this would suggest that the motif of Lanice’s anonymous sons may not have been a pure reflection of reality, but were, rather, planted within an early source common to both Arrian and Curtius not only to add pathos to Alexander’s lament for Lanice, whose brother he has just killed, but also to inject an additional measure of religious resonance to Alexander’s missteps concerning the Dioscuri and Dionysus. But what would the connection between Alexander’s sacrifice to Dioscuri and Lanice’s sons’ sacrifice for him be, exactly? The Lanice lament is clearly a lament for the shirking of duty – that is, for failing to offer proper recompense to Lanice for raising him and for her sons’ services towards him – but the sacrifice to the Dioscuri, on the surface, looks like the opposite: the accomplishment of a duty to honor the sons of Zeus. The context, however, is one that concerns Alexander’s own competitive self-aggrandizement as the son of Zeus. Brian Bosworth’s comment on the slight oddity of the sacrifice to the Dioscuri while in Sogdiana, as these deities were protectors of sailors – not of foot soldiers, is an important one: “In view of this it would seem that the sacrifice was intended as a cue to the courtiers at the symposium.” (1996, 102) In other words, Alexander’s sacrifice belies his real purpose, which was not to ask for protection but, rather, to be flattered in comparison to yet more divine sons besides Dionysus and Heracles. This idea is supported by an off-the-cuff reference that Dio Chrysostom makes in his Oration 64 (“On Fortune”) to Alexander’s ill treatment of both the Dioscuri and Dionysus. Offering Alexander as an example of how Fortune destroys those who exult themselves beyond measure, he notes that the king “hated being called the son of Philip, lied about Zeus, scorned the Dioscuri, and abused Dionysus, even while abundantly making use of that god’s gifts.” (οὐκ ἔφερεν υἱὸς Φιλίππου λεγόμενος, τοῦ Διὸς κατεψεύδετο, τῶν Διοσκόρων κατεφρόνει, τὸν Διόνυσον ἐλοιδόρει, καίτοι γε ἀφθόνως οὕτως αὐτοῦ τοῖς δώροις χρώμενος: 64.20). If we see the sacrifice to the Dioscuri as a form of scorn rather than an act of homage (not just of Dionysus who is ignored in favor of the Dioscuri, but of the Dioscuri themselves), we can see a parallel with Alexander’s disregard of the memory of Lanice’s two sons.

4

As Bosworth points out, there were a number of Alexander’s contemporaries besides Aristobulus (whom Arrian says did not mention the origins of the drinking bout: 4.8.9), such as Ptolemy, Chares and Nearchus, who could have been witnesses to the debate on the Dioscuri (1996, 102). Chares stands out as a possibility as he was a main source for the clash between Callisthenes and Alexander, and an apologetic one on Alexander’s behalf (Ath. 10.44.434d; Plut. Alex. 54.4; see Müller 2017, F13 and F14a); the lament to Alexander’s nurse would also fit the profile of an apologetic source.

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Divine Protection Through Wet-Nursing? Lanice, Amalthea and Ecstatic Warriors Pindar presented the Dioscuri as having a double parentage: Castor was the son of Tyndareus, and Polydeuces was the immortal son of Zeus who shared his immortality with his brother, as they alternated their days at Zeus’s side and in Hades. This double-parentage, of course, was easy to link ideologically with Alexander, whose reputation included filiation from both Philip and Zeus. There is at least one other tradition, however, through which a reader could conceivably link the Dioscuri with Lanice’s dead sons within the present context. In Iliad 3.237–244, for example, we learn from Helen that the Dioscuri (who are here mortal sons of Tyndareus and Leda and therefore Helen’s brothers) were dead. It is true that in Odyssey 11.300–4 they spend alternating days dead and alive, as a gift from Zeus, but presumably Arrian’s audience would have known both traditions. The Homeric (and otherwise mythical) resonances in the figure of Lanice the wet-nurse herself have been noticed. As Victor Alonso Troncoso (2007) argues, Alexander’s lament for Lanice reflects the deeply-held traditional Greek values of obligation and repayment that are seen in the Homeric poems. Note the language of repayment for upbringing that we saw in all three passages dealing with Lanice: at Arrian Anab. 4.9.3, ὡς καλὰ ἄρα αὐτῇ τροφεῖα ἀποτετικὼς (“What wonderful wages for child-rearing have been repaid to her”); at Curtius 8.2.8, hanc…nutrici meae gratiam rettuli (“This is the repayment I have made my nurse”); and at Justin 12.6.10–11, tam foedam illi alimentorum suorum mercedem redditam, ut… funera remitteret (“such a foul payment had been made to her in exchange for his upbringing that he repaid [her] with deaths”).5 As such, Alonso Troncoso argues, Lanice can be seen as a figure reminiscent of Odysseus’s nurse Euryclea. The comparison raises an interesting question about status: Euryclea, who had been purchased by Laertes (Od. 1.429–435), was a slave, as were other mythological nurses such as Arsinoe (who according to Pindar, Pythian Ode 11.17 saved Orestes’s life; see Alonso Troncoso 2007, 118), but the sister of Cleitus and daughter of Dropidas can only have been from the Macedonian elite. We do not have other evidence from Macedonia, but the evidence from Greece and Rome, at any rate, suggests that wet-nurses were usually slaves or freedwomen (e.g. Bradley 1986, 203), not elite women like Lanice. Nevertheless, there are mythological precedents for elite “women” acting as wet-nurses – that is to say, daimones that included special female animals or nymphs. One that may have been called to mind by the image of Lanice and her two soldier sons is Amalthea, the goat-nymph of Cretan legend to whom Rhea entrusted her infant Zeus for nursing, who was accompanied by the Couretes, ecstatic dancing warriors who protected both nurse and child with the clashing of their shields (Callim. l. 46–53; Apollod. 1.1.6–7; Diod. 5.70.2–3). The Couretes were easily conflated with other groups of warriors who engaged in orgiastic rites, sometimes the Corybantes, who Nonnus says protected the baby Dionysus in the 5

See note 2 above for the extended quote in Justin.

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same way (Dion. 9. 160–168; 13. 135–141). Nonnus is a very late source (4th–5th century AD), but we also learn in Euripides’s Bacchae (l. 58–59; 78–79) that the Corybantes gave Rhea (who herself sometimes does the nursing of the infant) her Phrygian drums (which perhaps had a similar purpose as the Curetes’ shields; see Gantz 1993, 43) to accompany the Bacchants. It is perhaps worth mentioning that, while the Corybantes appear in neither the Anabasis not the Indica, Arrian apparently had some interest in such ritual figures, as revealed in a fragment from his lost Bithynia. In his commentary on the “Description of the Known World” of Dionysius Perigetes, Eustathius says that, according to Arrian, the Phrygians were the happiest and most ancient people, who were possessed by Rhea and the Corybantes (BNJ 156 F 82). In any event, to think of Lanice’s soldier sons as protectors of a baby Dionysus simultaneously identifies Alexander as a Dionysus figure and reminds us of his failure to pay proper homage to Dionysus whom he is eager to emulate. As for the number two: the groups of protective warriors were said to be various sizes, but among them there is at least one “pair”: the Cabeiri, the twin gods who were worshipped as the Great Gods of Samothrace (which is incidentally where Philip and Olympias met, according to Plutarch Alex. 1). The Cabeiri, in fact, could be confused with the Dioscuri, as Pausanias implies in his discussion of the Amphissian celebration of the Boy King (10. 38.7). The theme of twin protectors also appears in a 1st-century AD Italian relief that depicts two warrior youths with shields protecting a woman wet-nursing a child, presumably either Jupiter or Bacchus (Fig. 2.1). Perhaps noteworthy is the fact that the youths are not engaging in ecstatic dancing in this particular image but are, rather, protecting the child physically with their shields. Given the easy conflation of these ecstatic warrior groups with one another and the total lack of detail concerning Lanice’s sons, we cannot press the specifics much further. I only suggest that a contemporary reader of Arrian’s work may have seen in Alexander’s reference to Lanice’s sons as a bookending double of the protective Dioscuri, whom – despite ostensibly honoring them – Alexander dishonored by allowing himself to be favorably compared by flatterers. Arrian is subtle, saying only that “for whatever reason” (ἐξ ὅτου) Alexander decided to sacrifice to the Dioscuri instead of Dionysus; the flattering comparison between Alexander and the Dioscuri is blamed entirely on others (see, again, above on Anab. 4.8.3). Alexander’s relative innocence is then reinforced, in the aftermath of the Cleitus tragedy, by his deep sense of shame towards Lanice’s sons who died for him, i.e. protected him, at Miletus. Curtius’s version of the story, on the other hand, whose portrait of Alexander is hardly apologetic, reserves mention of Alexander’s competition with the Dioscuri for the Callisthenes episode.

Athenaeus and Lanice’s Two Drunken Charges If the Lanice of Arrian is suffused with Homeric and perhaps religious significance, that is obviously not the case for the Lanice who is briefly named by Athenaeus and

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Fig. 2.1 Jupiter as a child with the wet nurse and two warriors (Credit: agefotostock.nyc: https://www. agefotostock.com/age/en/Stock-Images/Rights-Managed/DAE-11036633)

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Aelian in the context of alcohol-consumption. In this final section, I would like to consider the possibility that there was another Lanice tradition that linked to another aspect of Alexander’s “drinking story”: the alcoholic tendency itself, rather than his remorse for drunkenness. The link would have been of a strictly biological rather than emotional intimacy. It seems odd for a man to be identified by the name of his mother in Greco-Roman literature (especially since there is no mention of her much more famous relative, Cleitus, here), but such is Proteas’s fate. Might the reference to Lanice – the nurse of the alcohol-loving Alexander and mother of his alcohol-loving friend Proteas – not call to mind the qualities of breast-milk? Beyond the romanticization of wet-nursing that we have seen in some Greek literature, there was also a strain of thought, reflected in later Roman-era authors, that held women responsible for the characters of their nurslings (whether as biological mothers or wet-nurses). While this is not made explicit, the idea that Lanice’s two charges, her son Proteas and Alexander, both became famous alcoholics neatly aligns with the stereotype of (all) Macedonians (perhaps even women) as drunks, and may also reflect long-standing ancient concerns over the moral fiber of wet-nurses. Given that the story of Proteas seems to have appealed only to Athenaeus and Aelian – two dedicated bibliophiles, miscellanists, and lovers of sensationalism – perhaps we can conclude that the early version of Lanice was confined to more gossipy writers like Hippolochus and Ephippus. Several Roman-era writers commented on the harmful effects of wet-nursing on infants, since, as we indicated above, wet-nurses were almost inevitably of a lower class than their nurslings. Among lower-class behaviors was drunkenness. Favorinus (as this Greek-speaker appears in a Latin fragment) altogether disapproves of wet-nursing, especially when the wet-nurse is of a non-Greek country (externae et barbarae nationis), as that implies a host of physical and moral ills, including being drunk (temulenta): Quae…ratio est nobilitatem istam nati modo hominis corpusque et animum bene ingeniatis primordiis inchoatum insitivo degenerique alimento lactis alieni corrumpere? praesertim si ista, quam ad praebendum lactem adhibebitis, aut serva aut servilis est et, ut plerumque solet, externae et barbarae nationis est, si inproba, si informis, si inpudica, si temulenta est. (Gell. 12.1.17) What is the rationale for corrupting the nobility of a newly born human being’s body and spirit, which has been formed from naturally endowed seeds, by the spurious and degenerate nourishment of another person’s milk? Especially if that women whom you hire to give milk is either a slave or of servile stock, and, as is usually the case, belongs to a foreign and barbarian nation, if she is wicked, ugly, lewd and drunken.

In a more prescriptive spirit, Soranus, in a section of his Gynecology entitled “On the Selection of a Wet-Nurse” (Περὶ ἐκλογῆς τιτθῆς), outlines the physical and moral requirements the ideal candidate would possess: Ἐκλεκτέον δὲ τὴν τιτθὴν οὔτε νεωτέραν ἐτῶν εἴκοσιν οὔτε πρεσβυτέραν ἐτῶν τεσσαράκοντα, προκεκυηκυῖαν δὶς ἢ τρίς, ἄνοσον, εὐεκτοῦσαν, εὐμεγέθη τῷ σώματι καὶ εὐχρουστέραν… σώφρονα, συμπαθῆ καὶ ἀόργιστον, Ἑλληνίδα, καθάριον. (2.19.1)

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σώφρονα δέ, πρὸς τὸ συνουσίας ἀπέχεσθαι καὶ μέθης καὶ λαγνείας καὶ τῆς ἄλλης ἡδονῆς καὶ ἀκρασίας… διὰ δὲ τὰς μέθας πρῶτον μὲν ἡ γαλουχοῦσα βλάπτεται καὶ τῇ ψυχῇ καὶ τῷ σώματι, διὰ τοῦτο δὲ καὶ τὸ γάλα διαφθείρει… τρίτον ἡ τοῦ πλείονος οἴνου ποιότης συναναδίδοται τῷ γάλακτι, καὶ διὰ τοῦτο νωθρὰ καὶ καρώδη, ποτὲ δὲ καὶ ἔντρομα τῷ γάλακτι, καὶ διὰ τοῦτο νωθρὰ καὶ καρώδη, ποτὲ δὲ καὶ ἔντρομα καὶ ἀπόπληκτα καὶ σπασμώδη τὰ τρεφόμενα γίνονται βρέφη. (2.19.11–12) It is necessary to choose a wet nurse who is neither younger than twenty nor older than forty, a woman who has already given birth two or three times, who is healthy, in good condition, large-framed, and having a healthy complexion … She should be self-controlled, sympathetic and even-tempered, a Greek, and tidy. And she should be self-controlled, so as to abstain from sex, drinking, debauchery, and any other such pleasure and ill-behavior … As for drinking, first the wet nurse is harmed both in soul and body and thus the milk is also spoiled … Thirdly, drinking too much wine contaminates the milk and as a result the baby becomes sluggish and comatose and sometimes even afflicted with tremor, apoplexy, and spasms.

Notice the standard language of Greek morality in this passage, with its emphasis on neatness and balance (the wet-nurse is self-controlled: σώφρων; sympathetic: συμπαθής; even-tempered: ἀόργιστος; and tidy: καθάριος). Similarly to what Favorinus implies in his disapproval of barbarian women as nurses, Soranus says the ideal wet-nurse should be a Greek woman (Ἑλληνίς; in 2.19.15, he gives the reason: Greek nurses imbue children with the Greek language at an early age). Self-control was a ubiquitous positive value in Greek thought (see, e.g., North 1966), and here is reflected in abstinence from sex and from drinking. As for the latter, Soranus names three problems for wet-nurses, two of which are directly related to the quality of breast milk when alcohol is added (a third concerns the sleepiness caused by drinking, and the possibility that the woman will either forget about the child or hurt it physically by falling on it (!)). First, alcohol harms the soul as well as the body, and thus the breast milk becomes spoiled; furthermore, it causes sluggishness in the child, or worse effects, such as convulsions. To the degree that this partly mimics what happens when people drink, it is perhaps worth mentioning how Athenaeus describes Alexander’s state at the end of his drinking contest with Proteas: ἀπέκλινεν ἐπὶ τὸ προσκεφάλαιον ἀφεὶς τῶν χειρῶν τὸ ποτήριον (“he leaned back on his pillow, letting the drinking glass slip out of his hands”: 10.44). Athenaeus, of course, does not worry over anyone’s drinking habits, including those of Alexander, Alexander’s friends and Alexander’s nurse. On the contrary: his references to “that famous” (ἐκείνος) Proteas as a “prodigious drinker” reveal his main concern, which is to demonstrate arcane knowledge and to luxuriate in the lurid details of court life. Considering the tendency of ancient (male) writers both Greek and Roman to see women in stereotypical and opposing moralizing terms (to put it in modern terms, as either madonnas or whores, with little possibility of general personhood in-between), it is possible that the Lanice who was idealized in some accounts was in other accounts subject to suspicion. Bereft of her association with the tragic death of the noble Cleitus, Lanice is now simply the mother of one famous

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drunk and the nurse of a vastly more famous one. Perhaps we can envision a scenario in which the (apparently) sensationalist accounts of Hippolochus and Ephippus, who both wrote during or soon after Alexander’s life, were able to convert earnest stories of Alexander’s lament for “Lanice the wet-nurse” into just another dubious influence on the Macedonian court.

Bibliography

Alonso Troncoso, V. (2007) Alexander, Cleitus and Lanice: upbringing and maintenance. In W. Heckel, L. Tritle and P. Wheatley (eds) Alexander’s Empire: Formulation to Decay, 109‒23. Claremont, CA, Regina Books. Asirvatham, S.R. (2001) Olympias’s snake and Callisthenes’s stand religion and politics in Plutarch’s Life of Alexander. In S.R. Asirvatham, C.O. Pache and J. Watrous (eds) Between Magic and Religion: Interdisciplinary Studies in Ancient Mediterranean Religion and Society, 93–125. Lanham, MD and Oxford, Rowman and Littlefield. Bosworth, A.B. (1995) Commentary on Arrian’s History of Alexander. Vol. 2. Oxford, Clarendon Press. Bosworth, A.B. (1996) Alexander and the East. Oxford, Clarendon Press. Bradley, K.R. (1986) Wet nursing at Rome: a study in social relations. In B. Rawson (ed.) The Family in Ancient Rome: New Perspectives, 201‒29. London and Sydney, Croom Helm. Carney, E. (1981) The death of Cleitus. Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 22, 149‒60. Gantz, T. (1993) Early Greek Myth: A Guide to Literary and Artistic Sources. Baltimore, Johns Hopkins University Press. Heckel, W. (2006) Who’s Who in the Age of Alexander the Great: Prosopography of Alexander’s Empire. Malden, MA and London, Blackwell Publishing. Müller, S. (2017) “Chares of Mytilene (125)”. In I. Worthington (ed.) Brill’s New Jacoby [online]. Accessed 18 March 2020, http://dx.doi.org/10.1163/1873-5363_bnj_a125. North, H. (1966) Sophrosyne: Self-Knowledge and Self-Restraint in Greek Literature. Ithaca, Cornell University Press.

Chapter 3 Olympias’ Pharmaka? Nature, Causes, Therapies and Physicians of Arrhidaeus’ Disease

Giuseppe Squillace The nature, causes, and therapies of Arrhidaeus’ disease are obscure in the sources. Plutarch, in his Life of Alexander, relates it to Olympias’ pharmaka, but others ascribed to the prince a “great disease” (Justin), a “mental infirmity” (Diodorus) and “epilepsy” (the anonymous work On Alexander’s History). The paper aims to investigate the truthfulness of the last assertion. Starting from the doctors who healed Philip, or had strong links with important members of the Macedonian court such as Antipater and Aristotle, it assumes that Philip could consult his physicians in order to treat and heal his son’s epilepsy. Studies of Arrhidaeus, the son of Philip II and Philinna of Larisa, focus mainly (or even exclusively) on the role of the prince as a successor of Alexander in 323 BC and as a puppet in the hands of Diadochoi. The ancient tradition remarks on Arrhidaeus’ health problem, for as a new king he needed a regent for the administration of the empire.1 From the sources we learn that he suffered from a generic mental disability; however, they do not specify whether the problem was congenital or appeared at very young age.2 Plutarch, referring to Philip’s plan about a marriage between Arrhidaeus and the daughter of Pixodarus, satrap of Caria (337/336 BC), reports that Alexander advised against this idea, calling his own brother a “bastard” (τὸν νόθον) and fool (καὶ οὐ φρενήρη).3 Still Plutarch defines Arrhidaeus as a child (νήπιος), who was chosen by Meleager as Alexander’s successor.4 Appian, narrating the election of Arrhidaeus See Kaerst 1895, 1248‒49; Berve 1926, n. 781; Greenwalt 1984, 69‒77; Badian 1997, 30; Carney 2001, 63‒89; Heckel 2006, 52‒53; Landucci and Wallace 2013, 5256‒57. 2 Plut. Alex. 10.2; Plut. Mor. 337d; Just. 13.2.11; 14.5.2; Diod. 18.2.2; Porphyry of Tyre BNJ 260 F 2. 3 Plut. Alex. 10.2. This account is rejected as implausible by Hatzopoulos 1982, 59‒66; accepted, but in different ways, by French and Dixon 1986, 73‒86; Greenwalt 1988, 93‒97; Müller 2019, 59‒61. 4 Plut. Mor. 337d: Ἀριδαῖον δὲ τίς ἂν ἐποίησε μέγαν, ὃν οὐδὲν νηπίου διαφέροντα μόνον οὺ σπαργανώσας τῇ πορφύρᾳ Μελέαγρος εἰς τὸν Ἀλεξάνδρου θρόνον ἔθηκεν. 1

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as a new king by the Macedonians, noticed that he was considered to be hardly of sound mind (οὐκ ἔμφρονα)5. Justin, when writing about Arrhidaeus’ progression to the throne, mentions Ptolemy’s opposition, justified by the fact that Arrhidaeus came from humble origins (he was born from a Thessalian woman), and was affected by a great disease (sed etiam propter valetudinem maiorem quam patiebatur).6 Diodorus, reporting the succession of Arrhidaeus, points out the mental infirmity of the new king (ψυχικοῖς δὲ πάθεσι συνεχόμενον).7 Only the author of the anonymous work On Alexander’s History, known as the Heidelberg Epitome, comments that Arrhidaeus was not only mentally retarded, but he also suffered from epilepsy (ἐπεὶ δὲ ἦν νωθρὸς ὁ ᾽Αρριδαῖος, ἔτι δὲ καὶ ἐπιληπτικός).8

Olympias’ Pharmaka? The nature, origin and evolution of Arrhidaeus’ illness remain unknown, as well as the therapies that might have been applied to the prince. Despite this silence, the sources provide us with some data that allow speculation on the subject. Plutarch, in his Life of Alexander, reports information that could be useful. The biographer writes as follows: ἦν γὰρ ἐκεῖνος εὐθὺς ἐν δυνάμει μεγίστῃ, τὸν Ἀρριδαῖον ὥσπερ δορυφόρημα τῆς βασιλείας ἐφελκόμενος, γεγονότα μὲν ἐκ γυναικὸς ἀδόξου καὶ κοινῆς Φιλίννης, ἀτελῆ δὲ τὸ φρονεῖν ὄντα διὰ σώματος νόσον οὐ φύσει προσπεσοῦσαν οὐδὲ αὐτομάτως, ἀλλὰ καὶ πάνυ φασὶ παιδὸς ὄντος αὐτοῦ διαφαίνεσθαι χάριεν ἦθος καὶ οὐκ ἀγεννές, εἶτα μέντοι φαρμάκοις ὑπὸ Ὀλυμπιάδος κακωθέντα διαφθαρῆναι τὴν διάνοιαν. (Plut. Alex. 77.7) For it was he (Perdiccas) who was at once in the greatest authority, dragging Arrhidaeus around after him to safe-guard, as it were, the royal power. Arrhidaeus was Philip’s son by an obscure and common woman named Philinna, and was deficient in intellect owing to bodily disease. This, however, did not come upon him in the course of nature or of its own accord, indeed, it is said that as a boy he displayed an exceedingly gifted and noble disposition: but afterwards Olympias gave him drugs which injured his body and ruined his mind. (Translation by Perrin 1967)

This passage suggests that Arrhidaeus was a healthy child (παῖς). Moreover, it seems that his illness appeared only during the second phase of his childhood, and it was App. Syr 9.52: οἱ μὲν Μακεδόνες, πόθῳ τοῦ Φιλιππείου γένους, εἵλοντο σφῶν βασιλεύειν Ἀριδαῖον τὸν ἀδελφὸν Ἀλεξάνδρου, καίπερ οὐκ ἔμφρονα νομιζόμενον εἶναι, μετονομάσαντες δὴ Φίλιππον ἀντὶ Ἀριδαίου. 6 Just. 13.2.11: Ptolomeus recusabat regem Arridaeum non propter maternas modo sordes, quod ex Larissaeo scorto nasceretur, sed etiam propter ualetudinem maiorem quam patiebatur, ne ille nomen regis, alius imperium teneret. See also Just. 14.5.2. 7 Diod. 18.2.2: ἡ μὲν γὰρ τῶν πεζῶν φάλαγξ Ἀρριδαῖον τὸν Φιλίππου μὲν υἱόν, ψυχικοῖς δὲ πάθεσι συνεχόμενον ἀνιάτοις προῆγεν ἐπὶ τὴν βασιλείαν. On Arrhidaeus’ succession, see also Porphyry of Tyre BNJ 260 F 2. 8 Heidelberg Epitome FGrH 155.1 5

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caused – according to Plutarch – by Olympias’ pharmaka.9 This information, that connects Arrhidaus to Olympias, allows me to consider this topic from a medical perspective (and it is in keeping with my previous research), and to connect it to the research of Elizabeth Carney, to whom we all offer the present study. Plutarch’s passage has been used to emphasize Olympias’ role and personality. The queen was depicted as a witch,10 and a pharmaka expert,11 or sketchily connected to Arrhidaeus’ disease.12 Olympias’ competence in pharmaka cannot be denied. As we are informed by Plutarch, Philip lost his love for the Epirote woman, when he saw her sleeping with a snake. We read that Philip’s passion was replaced by the fear that Olympias could use her pharmaka upon him (ἐπ᾽ αὐτῷ καὶ φάρμακα τῆς γυναικός), or that she was the partner of a superior being.13 We may presume that the queen’s experience in pharmaka was connected with her origin, since, as we read in Aelian’s writings, the inhabitants of Epirus were famous for their familiarity with poisons and spells.14 Hamilton, in his commentary to Plutarch’s Life of Alexander, when discussing the nature of Arrhidaeus’ illness, in addition to citing the source material, limited himself to the statement that Arrhidaeus was a prince and that he lived at the court.15 On the other hand, Carney, who analysed the problem more thoroughly, commented on Plutarch’s passage as follows: “Plutarch also reports (Alex. 77.7) that Olympias caused Arrhidaeus’ disability by means of pharmaka (drugs or spells). Again, the charge is unlikely to be true, but suggests the existence of hostile propaganda and thus rivalry.”16 Therefore, she rejected the theory about Olympias’ responsibility for Arrhidaeus’ illness. In her opinion: “they (= Arrhidaeus’ mental limitations) became obvious late in childhood or early in adolescence. In modern times, mildly retarded people (the category that I have argued most appropriate for Arrhidaeus) are often not recognized as such until they begin schooling and the discrepancy between their skills and Plut. Alex. 77.7. Ogden 1999, 425‒37. 11 Braccesi 2019, 145. 12 Kaerst 1895, 1248: “Er (=Arridaios) war schwachsinnig, nach einem von Plutarch (Alex. 77) mitgeteilten Gerüchte infolge von Vergiftung durch Olympias.” 13 Plut. Alex. 2.6; see Carney 2006, 92; Ogden 2009, 425‒37, according to which pharmaka were spells. 14 Ael. N.A. 15.11: χρῶνται δὲ αὐτῇ ἐς τὰ ὅμοια ἁλιεῖς ὅσοι κατὰ τοὺς Ἠπειρώτας φαρμακεύουσι πονηροὶ καὶ οὗτοι σοφισταὶ κακῶν. 15 Hamilton 1969, 216‒17: “He (Arrhidaeus) was perhaps thirty years old, but nothing (apart from the events in ch. 10) is known of him during Alexander’s reign. His mother Philinna was native of Larisa (refs. in Berve 2. 385, n. 4), and is sometimes called ‘saltatrix’ (Athenaeus 13.578a; Justin 9.8.2), sometimes ‘scortum’ (Justin 13.2.11). This evidence is worth little. The fact that Arrhidaeus was brought up at court (see ch.  10), and that he was chosen by the infantry as Alexander’s successor show that he was recognized as a prince of the royal blood. Alexander’s description of him as τὸν νόθον (10.2) is merely a term of abuse. Nevertheless, his weakness of mind is well attested (see esp. Diod. 18.2.2); cf. [Plut.] Mor. 337d; Justin 13.2.1, 14.5.2; App. Syr. 52; Porphyr. Tyr. fr. 2 (FGrH 2B 1198 [= BNJ 260 F 2]).” 16 Carney 2006, 25. 9

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the average begins to increase.”17 Thus Arridaeus’ disability (as Carney views it) was not caused by Olympias’ pharmaka (drugs or poisons), but it was a natural problem. I believe that this conclusion is reinforced by the Heidelberg Epitome, from which we learn that the Macedonian prince was not only mentally disabled (νωθρός), but he also suffered from epilepsy (ἐπιληπτικός),18 a specific, congenital, disease that did not originate from drugs, poisons or spells.19

Arrhidaeus’ Disability Due to the lack of information, very little can be said about the nature of his disability (was it mental retardation or a disease such as epilepsy?). Even if we cannot exclude in the tradition an amplification of Arrhidaeus’ health problem, which aimed to discredit him in the role of new king, the source analysis nevertheless proves that the prince was not completely healthy. This conclusion can be made since in 336 Alexander eliminated all his rivals, except for Arrhidaeus, and in 323 the latter, as new king, needed a regent. The above facts confirm that the Macedonian prince could not have been considered by Alexander as a serious rival and that Arrhidaeus, even if he was a man of sound judgement, was not able to rule the empire without help after his brother’s death. Despite his (limited) capacities, Philip planned a marriage between Arrhidaeus and the daughter of Pixodarus, and the prince was accepted by the Macedonians as a new king.20 It seems very unusual that Philip could be insensitive to Arrhidaus’ health problem and he did not consult any physician (or a staff of physicians) to treat and heal the prince. In the Greek (and Roman) world, the best doctors lived at the court of kings and tyrants or served eminent families receiving a high salary.21 Given that Amyntas’ III personal physician was Nicomachus, who was Aristotle’s father,22 and – according to the Suda – wrote Iatrika and Physika,23 we may presume that Philip, just like his father, had at his service doctors who lived at court and accompanied him during his military campaigns. They are even mentioned in the sources, who describe the circumstances when the king’s health was put at risk. For instance, we learn that in 354, during the siege of Methone, Philip was injured in the eye by an arrow that was shot by a certain Aster.24 On this occasion he was healed by Critobulus, a personal Carney 2006, 149, n. 37; but also Carney 2001, 63‒89, especially 80, n. 80. Heidelberg Epitome FGrH 155.1. 19 An articulate analysis in Hippoc. Morb. sacr. 1.1‒6 Jouanna. 20 See Carney 2001, 63‒89. 21 Emblematic are the cases of Democedes of Kroton, who was physician of the tyrant Polycrates of Samos, and Darius I, king of the Persians (Hdt. 3.129‒134.1; see Squillace 2008, 29‒62; Lopez 2015, 19‒71), and Hippocrates of Cos, who moved to Thessaly, Macedonia, and (perhaps) Athens: Jouanna 1994, 27‒39. But many others were court physicians: Squillace 2015, 67‒73. 22 Diog. Laert. 5.1; Suda s.v. Nikomachos. 23 Suda s.v. Nikomachos; see Fritz 1936, 462. 24 Theopompus BNJ 115 F 2; Marsyas BNJ 135‒136 FF 16‒17; Callisthenes BNJ 124 F 57; Duris BNJ 76 F 36; Diod. 16.34.5; Polyaen. 4.2.15; Lucian Hist. conscr. 38.50; Clem. Al. Protr. 4.54.5; Just. 7.6.14; Athen. 6.248f; Phot. Bibl. 190; Suda s.v. Karanos; see Riginos 1994, 106‒15. 17 18

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physician, who despite removing the arrow could not save the eye.25 In 344, during a fight against the Illyrians, Philip broke his clavicle and was treated by a greedy physician – whose name is not mentioned in the sources – who demanded a daily fee.26 We also do not know the name of the physician (or physicians), who in 339 was taking care of the king when he had been injured in the arm during the expedition against the Scythians.27 Among the doctors connected to Philip and his court, the sources mention Menecrates of Syracuse. This name is linked, on one hand, to bizarre behavior, on the other hand, to medical investigations and professional competence, that Aristotle and his school appreciated and passed on.28 Athenaeus, whose narrative is the most detailed, says that Menecrates, a native of Syracuse, was surnamed Zeus for his capacity to cure and heal. He used to force his patients, healed from the so-called “sacred disease,” to make a written statement that they would serve him as slaves and they take the names and attributes of Olympic gods. Among them were Nicostratus of Argos named Heracles; Nicagoras, tyrant of Zeleia, named Hermes; Astycreon named Apollo and a fourth patient – whose name Athenaeus does not report – named Asclepius.29 The connection between Menecrates and the Macedonian court is highlighted by Athenaeus (Aelian’s source) and Clement of Alexandria. Athenaeus reports the content of Menecrates’ letter to Philip. In his missive, Menecrates, signing himself as “Menecrates/Zeus,” compared his medical art and his high professional competence to Philip’s royal power. The king answered wishing Menecrates a return to his mental health. Some time later – Athenaeus continues – Philip invited Menecrates and his patients/gods to take part in a banquet at the Macedonian court. On this occasion he honored Menecrates as a god offering him frankincense and libations in place of food, and forced the physician (and his theios choros), who was very hungry, to leave the palace amongst general laughter.30 Clement of Alexandria mentions kings and common people who equated themselves with gods. Into the latter category he puts Menecrates, who identified with Zeus; Alexarchus, who proclaimed himself Helios; Nicagoras, who named himself Hermes.31 It should be stressed that Alexarchus might be a bridge between Menecrates and the Macedonian court. Alexarchus, who, after meeting the Syracusan,32 probably Plin. N.H. 7.124; but also Athen. 6.248f; see Berve 1926, n. 452‒53; Heckel 2006, 100; Samama 2017, 363‒64. 26 Plut. Mor. 177–78; Gnomol. Vatic. 540 Sternbach. 27 Demosth. 18.67 and schol. On the military physicians: Samama 2017. 28 On Menecrates: Squillace 2012. 29 Athen. 7.289a‒d = Menecr. T 1 Squillace. 30 Athen. 7.289d‒f = Menecr. T 1 Squillace; Aelian reports and epitomizes Athenaeus’ version: Ael. V.H. 12.51 = Menecr. T 3 Squillace. 31 Clem. Al. Protr. 4.54 = Menecr. T 4 Squillace. 32 See Weinreich 1933, 12; Winiarczyk 2002, 271; 275‒76; Squillace 2012, 44‒45 and passim; Muccioli 2000, 410, n. 32 (with doubts); contra Schorn 2012, Commentary to Baton FGrH 1029 F 1; Schorn 2014, 78‒93. 25

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identified himself with Helios, was one of the seven sons of Antipater. He was born before 350 and was younger than Cassander.33 Between 316 and 300, Alexarchus, as Helios, with Cassander’s approval, founded the town of Ouranopolis (the city of Sun) located in the Chalcidic peninsula. The city was inhabited by “the sons of the Sun” (ἡλιοκρεῖς), and it had its own language and institutions as well as coins.34 Although the scene of the banquet at the Macedonian court seems to be a parody invented by Alexis, a comedy writer who was one of Athenaeus’ sources,35 we may presume that it contains an element of truth. Namely, it is plausible that Menecrates was called to Pella in order to cure the young Alexarchus. Moreover, Athenaeus provides us with another clue supporting the hypothesis that Menecrates was present at the royal court. The author of Deipnosophistae argues that one of Menecrates’ patients was Astycreon (named “Apollo” by the physician), who might be identified as Aristotle’s student, to whom (together with Phanias and Nicanor) Theophrastus sent his letters.36 Menecrates was famous in the Peripatetic school, where his treatise on medicine was known to Aristotle and/or his student Menon, who read and used it in composing the medical doxography preserved by the so-called Anonymous Londinensis.37 On the grounds of these two factors, we cannot exclude that Menecrates could have been recommended to Philip by Antipater as a qualified medical doctor, and by Aristotle too. Aristotle was closely connected to Antipater,38 and in 343 he was chosen by the king as Alexander’s teacher and received also a Nymphaeum at Mieza for his research and lessons.39 Arrhidaeus was somewhat older than Alexander, who was born in 356.40 According to Plutarch, his health problem appeared during pre-adolescence after a quiet and healthy childhood (παῖς).41 It means that his medical disorder (or illness) became obvious around 347–345, when he was 10 to 12 years old. Now, Menecrates, as Menecrates/ Zeus, wrote to the king Agesilaus, who ruled Sparta between 399 and 360. Probably before 343 he cured and healed Nicostratus of Argos, who, in that year, wearing Kaerst 1894, 1463. Strabo 7 F 15a 6‒28 Radt (= F 35 Meineke) = Alexarchos T 3.1 Squillace; Plin. N.H. 4.36–37 = Alexarchos T 3.2 Squillace; Athen. 3.98d‒f = Alexarchos T 3.3 Squillace; Clem. Al. Protr. 4.54.3 = Alexarchos T 3.4 Squillace; cf. Kaerst 1894, 1463; Berve 1926, nr. 41; Weinreich 1933, 12‒15; Wüst 1961, 965; Winiarczyk 2002, 269‒85; Zahrnt 2002, 1025; Landucci 2003, 78‒79; 137‒38; Squillace 2012, 44‒45; 154‒65. 35 Alexis F 156 Kassel‒Austin apud Athen. 7.289f = Menecr. T 1 Squillace. 36 Diog. Laert. 5.50.8 = Astycr. T 4.2 Squillace; for discussion: Squillace 2010, 200‒202; 2012, 166‒69. 37 Anon. Lond. XIX 18‒XX 1 Manetti = Menecrat. F 1 Squillace; see Squillace 2012, 134‒38, see also infra. 38 The links between Antipater and Aristotle and, as a whole, between the Peripatetic school and the family of the Macedonian general, are well attested: Diog. Laert. 4.8‒9; 5.11‒13; 6.44, 66; see Jaeger 1963, 62‒65; Baynham 1994, 331–56, esp. 331 and 335, n. 16. 39 Plut. Alex. 7‒8; Plin. N.H. 8.44; Quint. Inst. Or. 1.1.23; see Scholz 1998, 153‒65; Landucci 2019, 56; Müller 2019, 55‒56. 40 Greenwalt 1984, 72‒73; Carney 2001, 63. 41 Plut. Alex. 77.7. 33 34

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Heracles’ costume, was a commander of the military contingent sent by Argos to Egypt in support of the Persians. Moreover, possibly before 334, Menecrates cured Nicagoras, who was tyrant of Zeleia until that date.42 Since the comedies of Ephippus and Alexis, cited by Athenaeus with reference to Menecrates and his theios choros, are dated between 343 and 338,43 we may presume that in these years or earlier the Syracusan was well-known in Athens, and that he had some contact with Philip and members of the Macedonian court such as Antipater and (perhaps) Aristotle, as the banquet described by Alexis demonstrates.44 We should mention that except for his eccentricity, Menecrates was an accomplished physician. It is clearly attested by the Anonymous Londinensis, a work dated to the 1st century AD that used Aristotle/Menon’s medical doxography.45 Aristotle/ Menon, epitomising the doctrines of the main Greek physicians, such as Hippocrates, Philolaus, and Philistion,46 cited also Menecrates’ medical theories. In his work Iatrika the Syracusan – as Aristotle/Menon states – investigated the nature of bodies and the causes of diseases. According to Menecrates, bodies were composed of four elements: two hot and two cold. Blood and bile were hot; breath and phlegm were cold. If they all were in harmony, there was health; on the contrary if they all were not in harmony, there was disease. Menecrates ascribed the origin of diseases to excess of bile and phlegm. Excessive phlegm provoked little abscesses, bumps, various typologies of catarrhs. Excessive bile caused sciatica/ischias, if it carried to the hips; to the lungs, pneumonia; to the ribs, pleurisy; and if it be carried to the bowels it results in ardent fever.47 In addition to the report of the Anonymous Londinensis, Athenaeus also states that Menecrates was famous for the cure of “sacred diseases”;48 Plutarch notes that the Syracusan was able to cure hopeless cases;49 Caelius Aurelianus mentions him among the physicians able to cure epilepsy;50 the Suda, summarising and distorting the passage found in Athenaeus’ work, reports that Menecrates cured (only) the “sacred disease.”51 But what does “sacred disease/diseases” actually mean? According to the Hippocratic work Airs, Waters, Places the diseases called “sacred” were violent.52 Other Berve 1967, I, 314; II, 679; contra Schorn 2012, Commentary to Baton FGrH 1029 F 1; Schorn 2014, 78‒93, who excludes links between Menecrates and Nicagoras. 43 Ephippus F 17 Kassel‒Austin apud Athen. 7.289b = Menecrat. T 1 Squillace; Alexis F 156 Kassel‒ Austin apud Athen. 7.289f = Menecrat. T 1 Squillace; see Squillace 2012, 65‒85. 44 Alexis F 156 Kassel‒Austin apud Athen. 7.289f = Menecrat. T 1. 45 On the Anonymous Londinensis, see Manetti 1986, 57‒74; Manetti 1990, 219‒33; 1994, 47‒59; 1999, 95‒141. See also the introduction to his two editions by Ricciardetto: Ricciardetto 2014; 2016. 46 Anon. Lond. V 35‒VII 40 Manetti (Hippocrates); XVIII 8‒XIX 1 Manetti (Philolaus); XX 25‒50 Manetti (Philistion). 47 Anon. Lond. XIX 18‒XX 1 Manetti = Menecrat. F 1 Squillace; see Squillace 2012, 134‒38. 48 Athen. 7.289b = Menecr. T 1 Squillace: θεραπευομένους ὑπ᾽ αὐτοῦ τὰς ἱερὰς καλουμένας νόσους. 49 Plut. Ages. 21.10 = Menecr. T 2 Squillace. 50 Cael. Aurel. Tardae Passiones 1.4.140 Bendz = Menecr. T 5 Squillace. 51 Squillace 2013, 271‒86. 52 Hippoc. Aër. 4.3 Jouanna. See Squillace 2012, 112‒13. 42

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medical sources used “sacred disease” as equivalent to “great disease.”53 The “sacred disease” by definition was epilepsy, as we read in the famous Hippocratic work The Sacred Disease (dated to the second half of the 5th century BC), which is fully devoted to this topic.54 It is quite revealing that Herodotus defines Cambyses’ disease first as “great” (νοῦσος μεγάλη), and later as “sacred” (νοῦσος ἱρή).55 The sources do not specify the nature of the diseases of Menecrates’ patients. However, we find a hint on the subject in Diodorus who, recounting the expedition to Egypt in support of the Persians in 343, states that the Argives consigned the contingent to Nicostratus (one of Menecrates' patients). He was a fearless general affected by an obsession (μανία) for imitating. Namely, during the fight he clothed himself in Heracles’ costume, because he thought he was identical with the hero by reason of his bodily power.56 Nicostratus’ obsession/manía could be a kind of epilepsy. The supposition comes once again from Herodotus who, when mentioning that Cambyses was afflicted with the “sacred disease,” used the verbal form ἐξεμάνη referring to the king’s mad deeds.57 On the precise nature of Arrhidaeus’ disease it is Justin who provides information that up till now has been undervalued or fully neglected. He qualifies Arrhidaeus’ illness as a “great disease” (valetudo maior).58 Valetudo maior is equivalent to the Greek νοῦσος μεγάλη, and corresponds with the sacred disease/epilepsy (νοῦσος ἱρή) mentioned by Herodotus with reference to Cambyses.59 This conclusion is reinforced by Plutarch, who places the beginning (or the first symptoms) of Arrhidaeus’ illness in his preadolescence.60 The sacred disease/epilepsy generally appears between 6 and 10 years.61 Due to its incidence in children, in antiquity it was believed to be congenital,62 and was called also “disease of children” (puerilis passio).63 Therefore the timing of Arrhidaeus’ disability renders plausbile the precise definition in the Heidelberg Epitome, according to which he was afflicted with epilepsy (ἐπιληπτικός).64

Temkin 1971, 17‒19. See Jouanna 1994, 397‒98. 55 Hdt. 3.33. 56 Diod. 16.44.1‒3 = Nicostr. T 1.3 Squillace: μεμιγμένην δ᾽ ἔχων τῇ φρονήσει μανίαν· τῇ γὰρ τοῦ σώματος ῥώμῃ διαφέρων ἐμιμεῖτο τὸν Ἡρακλέα κατὰ τὰς στρατείας καὶ λεοντῆν ἐφόρει καὶ ῥόπαλον ἐν ταῖς μάχαις. See Squillace 2012, 144‒46. 57 Hdt. 3.33; see Pigeaud 1987, 47 ff.; 129 ff.; von Staden 1992, 134 ff.; Pigeaud 2006, 100 ss. 58 Just. 13.2.11; but also 14.5.2. 59 Hdt. 3.33. This definition also in Hippoc. Epid. 6.5.5 (Littré 5.324‒27). 60 Plut. Alex. 77.7. 61 Stein 1995, 716‒25; Verdelli 2016 (online). 62 Hdt. 3.33; Hipp, M.S. 8.1‒4 Jouanna and commentary by Jouanna 2003, 85‒86; Hipp, Aër. 3.3 Jouanna; Galen. Comm. Hipp. Epid. 6.5 (Kühn 17.1, 824‒25). 63 Cael. Aurel. Tardae Passiones 1.4.60 ff. Bendz. 64 Heidelberg Epitome FGrH 155.1. 53 54

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Conclusions Considering such aspects as Menecrates’ fame, his plausible presence in Macedonia for healing Alexarchus, Antipater’s son, and the fact that Aristotle as well as his students, among whom (probably) Astycreon was cured, had a high opinion of this physician, we should consider whether Philip did ask the Syracusan for help for Arrhidaeus who was afflicted with a disease (perhaps epilepsy), which Menecrates was able to cure and heal. Moreover, his therapies seem to have been effective on other patients, since Nicostratus, Nicagoras, Alexarchus and Astycreon were able to undertake various kinds of activities. Nicostratus was commander in Egypt; Nicagoras tyrant of Zeleia; Alexarchus founded Ouranopolis, and Astycreon, together with other students, promoted scientific research in the Peripatetic school. The letter of the Syracusan to Philip, if authentic, could represent a first link by the physician and the king, and perhaps it anticipated his sojourn at Macedonian court parodied by Alexis, who most likely invented the banquet scene. Even if we cannot say whether Menecrates really attempted to cure Arrhidaus and what result he obtained, in any case, after adolescence, when Arrhidaeus likely experienced the first symptoms, his health conditions were stable and not (or no longer) at risk, and he could lead an almost normal life. Thereby, in 337/336 BC Philip could arrange the marriage between his son (who was older than 20) and Pixodarus’ daughter, believing Arrhidaeus to be able to procreate. The prince first could follow his brother Alexander to Asia, and later he could be accepted as the new king and make some (less important) decisions.65 The illness continued to penalize him, in that he needed a regent during his reign, but it did not exert a negative influence on his mobility, nor did it derange his judgment.

Bibliography

Baynham, E. (1994) Antipater: manager of kings. In I. Worthington (ed.) Ventures into Greek History, 331–56. Oxford, Clarendon Press. Berve, H. (1926) Das Alexanderreich auf prosopographischer Grundlage. Vol. 2. Munich, C.H. Beck. Berve, H. (1967) Die Tyrannis bei den Griechen. Vols. 1–2. Munich, C.H. Beck. Braccesi, L. (2019) Olimpiade regina di Macedonia. Rome, Salerno Editrice. Carney, E. (2001) The trouble with Philip Arrhidaeus. Ancient History Bulletin 15, 63‒89. Carney, E. (2006) Olympias: Mother of Alexander the Great. New York and London, Routledge. French, V. and Dixon, P. (1986) The Pixodaros affair: another view. Ancient World 13, 73‒86. Greenwalt, W.S. (1984) The search for Arrhidaeus. The Ancient World 10, 69‒77. Greenwalt, W.S. (1988) The marriageability age at the Argead court, 360‒317 BC. Classical World 82, 93‒97. Hamilton, J.R. (1969) Plutarch. Alexander. A Commentary. Oxford, Clarendon Press. Hatzopoulos, M.B. (1992) A reconstruction of the Pixodarus affair. In B. Barr-Sharrar and Ε.N. Borza (eds) Macedonia and Greece in the Late Classical and Early Hellenistic Times, 59‒66. Washington, National Gallery of Art. Heckel, W. (2006) Who’s Who in the Age of Alexander the Great. Oxford and Malden, MA, Blackwell. 65

For instance: Curt. 10.8.16‒23; 10.9.16; see Carney 2001, 63‒89.

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Jaeger, W. (1963) Diokles von Karistos. Die griechische Medizin und die Schule des Aristoteles. 2nd ed. Berlin, De Gruyter. Jouanna, J. (1994) Ippocrate (translation of Paris 1992 edition by L. Rebaudo). Torino, SEI. Jouanna, J. (ed.) (2003) Hippocrate. La maladie sacrée. Paris, Les Belles Lettres. Kaerst, J. (1894) s.v. Alexarchos. RE 1.2, 1463. Kaerst, J. (1895) s.v. Arridaios [4]. RE 2.1, 1248‒1249. Landucci, F. (2003) L’arte del potere. Vita e opere di Cassandro di Macedonia, (Historia Einz. 171). Stuttgart, Franz Steiner. Landucci, F. (2019) Alessandro Magno. Rome, Salerno Editrice. Landucci, F. and Wallace, S. (2013) s.v. Philip III Arrhidaios. In R.S. Bagnall, K. Brodersen, C.B. Champion, A. Erskine and S.R. Huebner (eds) The Encyclopedia of Ancient History, 5256‒57. London, Wiley‒Blackwell. Lopez, F. (2015) Democede di Crotone e Udjahorresnet di Saïs. Medici primari alla corte achemenide di Dario il Grande. Pisa, Pisa University Press. Manetti, D. (1986) Note di lettura dell’Anonimo Londinese. Prolegomeni ad una nuova edizione. Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 63, 57‒74. Manetti, D. (1990) Doxographical deformation of the medical tradition in the report of the Anonymus Londiniensis on Philolaus. Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 83, 219‒33. Manetti, D. (1994) Autografi e incompiuti. Il caso dell’Anonimo Londinese (P. Lit. Lond. 165). Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 100, 47‒59. Manetti, D. (1999) ‘Aristotle’ and the role of doxography in the Anonymus Londiniensis. In Ph. Van der Eijk (ed.) Ancient Histories of Medicine. Essays on Medical Doxography and Historiography in Classical Antiquity, 95‒141. Leiden, Boston and Cologne, Brill. Muccioli, F. (2000) Un medico che si credeva Zeus: Menecrate di Siracusa. Osservazioni su un caso di Gottmenschentum nel IV secolo a.C. Rivista di Storia della Medicina 31, n.s. 10, 403‒413. Müller, S. (2019) Alexander der Große. Eroberungen ‒ Politik – Rezeption. Stuttgart, W. Kohlhammer. Ogden, D. (2009) A war of witches at the court of Philip II? In Ancient Macedonia/Archaia Makedonia, 425‒37. Thessaloniki, University of Thessaloniki. Perrin, B. (1967) Plutarch Lives. Vol. 7. Cambridge, MA and London, Harvard University Press. Pigeaud, J. (1987) Folie et cures de la folie chez les médicins de l’Antiquité greco‒romaine: la manie. Paris, Les Belles Lettres. Pigeaud, J. (2006) La maladie de l’âme. 3rd ed. Paris, Les Belles Lettres. Ricciardetto, A. (2014) L’Anonyme de Londres. Un papyrus médical grec du Ier siècle. Liège, Presses Universitaires de Liège. Ricciardetto, A. (2016) L’Anonyme de Londres. Un papyrus médical grec du 1er siècle après J.‒C. Paris, Les Belles Lettres. Riginos, A.S. (1994) The wounding of Philip II of Macedon: fact and fabrication. Journal of Hellenic Studies 114, 106‒15. Samama, É. (2017) La médecine de guerre en Grèce ancienne. Turnhout, Brepols. Scholz, P. (1998) Der Philosoph und die Politik. Die Ausbildung der philosophischen Lebensform und die Entwicklung des Verhältnisses von Philosophie und Politik im 4. und 3. Jh. v. Chr. Stuttgart, Franz Steiner. Schorn, S. (2012) Baton von Sinope (1029). In S. Schorn (ed.) Die Fragmente der Griechischen Historiker Continued, Part IV. Leiden and Boston, Brill [online]. Schorn, S. (2014) Nikagoras von Zeleia, Hermes 142, 78‒93. Squillace, G. (2008) I mali di Dario e di Atossa. Modalità di intervento, tecniche terapeutiche, modelli di riferimento di Democede di Crotone (nota a Erodoto 3.129‒134.1). In G. De Sensi Sestito (ed.) L’arte di Asclepio. Medici e malattie in età antica, 29‒62. Soveria Mannelli, Rubbettino.

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Squillace, G. (2010) Medicina e regalità: Menecrate di Siracusa e Filippo II. In M. Caltabiano Caccamo, C. Raccuia and E. Santagati (eds) Tyrannis, basileia, imperium. Forme, prassi e simboli del potere politico nel mondo greco e romano, 192‒207. Soveria Mannelli, Rubbettino. Squillace, G. (2012) Menecrate di Siracusa. Un medico del IV secolo a.C. tra Sicilia, Grecia e Macedonia (Spudasmata 141). Hildesheim, Georg Olms. Squillace, G. (2013) Da Ateneo alla Suda: la figura di Menecrate di Siracusa. In F. Gazzano and G. Ottone (eds) Le età della trasmissione. Alessandria, Roma Bisanzio, Atti delle giornate di studio sulla storiografia greca frammentaria, Genova 2012, 271‒86. Rome, Tored. Squillace, G. (2015) I balsami di Afrodite. Medici, malattie e farmaci nel mondo antico. Sansepolcro, Aboca. Stein, J.H. (1995) Medicina interna (translation of St Louis 1994 edition). Milan, Casa Editrice Ambrosiana. Temkin, O. (1971) The Falling Sickness. A History of Epilepsy from the Greeks to the Beginnings of the Modern Neurology. Rev. ed. Baltimore and London, Johns Hopkins Press. Verdelli, C. (2016) Epilessia: 70% dei casi si manifesta entro i 12 anni. Repubblica 2.5.2016 [online]. von Fritz, K. (1936) s.v. Nicomachos (18). RE 17.1, 462. von Staden, H. (1992) The mind and skin of Herakles: heroic diseases. In D. Gourevitch (ed.) Maladie et Maladie. Histoire et Conceptualisation. Mélanges en l’honneur de Mirko Grmek, École Pratique des Hautes Études ‒ IVe section – V. Études médievales et modernes, 70, 131‒50. Geneva, Droz. Weinreich, O. (1933) Menekrates Zeus und Salmoneus (Tübinger Beiträge 18). Stuttgart, W. Kohlhammer. Winiarczyk, M. (2002) Uranopolis des Alexarchos. Forschungsgeschichte (1835‒2002) und Interpretationsversuch. Eos 89, 269‒85. Wüst, E. (1961) s.v. Uranopolis (1). RE 9.A1, 965‒66. Zahrnt, M. (2002) s.v. Uranopolis. DNP 12.1, 1025.

Chapter 4 The Limits of Brotherly Love: Neoptolemus II and Molossian Dynastic History

Waldemar Heckel One of the major complications of the affective nature of ancient royal courts is the importance of familial relationships. Even identifying the major players is often very complicated. This is certainly the case with respect to the Molossian kingship. This paper shows that scholarly attempts to demonstrate that there existed a dual monarchy amongst the Epirotes, or that a system of shared kingship was a common part of the Molossian kingdom are in error. Molossian kingship was less stable than other monarchies with often many conflicting claimants to the throne, the structure of the monarchy was not as problematic as many scholars assume. Much of the argument for novel aspects of the Molossian kingship are based on a mistake in Plutarch’s Life of Pyrrhus and false assumptions regarding the reign of Neoptolemus II. Neoptolemus II was not as is often claimed king from 331–316, but came to the throne only in 302. A great deal of scholarly ink has been spilt over the identity of the Molossian king who replaced Aeacides in 316 when he was ousted from the throne and his supporters took his two-year-old son, Pyrrhus, to Illyria for his own safety.1 Plutarch (Pyrrh. 2) is our chief 1

Reuss 1881, 168–69. Cross (1932, 106–8) devoted an “Appendix” to the subject and concluded that “the Neoptolemus of 302 to 297 is not to be identified with a son of Alexander the Molossian.” Beloch (IV2 2.144) argued that the text of Plut. Pyrrh. 2.1 referred to the son of Alexander I and Cleopatra. Lévêque (1957, 98–101) expressed serious doubts. Hammond (1967, 560 n. 1) believes there is ample evidence to support the return of Neoptolemus son of Alexander after the expulsion of Aeacides: “The argument of Cross pp. 106 f., following a theory advanced by Reuss, that Alexander I did not have a son Neoptolemus, need not be discussed, because we now have a considerable number of inscriptions which name Neoptolemus as a son of Alexander.” A difficulty remains: whereas we have inscriptions that identify King Pyrrhus as son of King Aeacides (βασιλέα Πύρρον βασιλέως Αἰακίδα), King Neoptolemus is identified as son of Alexander, but not of King Alexander (βασιλέος Νεοπτολεμου Ἀλεξάνδρου: SGDI 1336; cf. SGDI 1349: [βασιλέος Νεοπτολε]μου Ἀλέξανδρου, restored by Hammond 1967, 565). This appears to

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source for these events: Ἐπεὶ δὲ σασιάσαντες οἱ Μολοσσοὶ καὶ τὸν Αἰακίδην ἐκβαλόντες ἐπηγάγοντο τοὺς Νεοπτολέμου παῖδας.2 Justin (17.3.16–20) mentions the expulsion of Aeacides and how his supporters carried the infant Pyrrhus to safety in Illyria, but he says nothing about who ascended the throne.3 Plutarch’s phrase τοὺς Νεοπτολέμου παῖδας (2.1) is now widely assumed to be a rhetorical plural referring to Neoptolemus II (the son of Alexander I; hence a descendant of Neoptolemus I) or a corruption of a text that read ἐπηγάγοντο τοὺς Νεοπτολέμου παῖδας.4 The older view that Neoptolemus II was the grandson of Alcetas II has gained limited support.5 For the existence of a son of Alexander named Neoptolemus there is ample epigraphic evidence, although the identity of the father remains uncertain. Only the fact that the sister of Neoptolemus II (who ruled from 302 to 296) was named Cadmea (Plut. Pyrrh. 5.11) appears to reinforce his identification as the son of Alexander I and Cleopatra. The marriage of this couple was celebrated in October 336, the occasion of the murder of Philip II of Macedon, and the name Cadmea may have been intended to commemorate the destruction of Thebes by the bride’s brother Alexander the Great in the following year.6 Furthermore, the account of the second expulsion of Pyrrhus actually names his successor: Γενομένῳ δὲ περὶ ἑπτακαίδεκα ἔτη καὶ δοκοῦντι τὴν ἀρχὴν ἔχειν βεβαίως ἀποδημία τις συνέτυχε, τῶν Γλαυκίου παίδων ἑνὸς οἷς συνετέθραπτο γυναῖκα λαμβάνοντος. Πάλιν οὖν οἱ Μολοσσοὶ συστάντες ἐξέβαλον τοὺς φίλους αὐτοῦ καὶ τὰ χρήματα διήρπασαν, καὶ Νεοπτολέμῳ παρέδωκαν ἑαυτούς (Plut. Pyrrh. 4.1).7 Hence, it is assumed that this Neoptolemus, who strengthen the case that Neoptolemus II was the son of Alexander (son of Alcetas II), who never held the kingship. 2 “But factions arose among the Molossians, and expelling Aeacides they brought into power the sons of Neoptolemus” (B. Perrin, Loeb); “But there was civil war in Molossis, and Aeacides was banished and the sons of Neoptolemus raised to power instead” (R. Waterfield, OWC). 3 This is true also of Paus. 1.11.3–4. 4 Beloch IV2 2.144. 5 Cross 1932, 107; Errington (1990, 136), commenting on the accession of Neoptolemus II in 302, identifies him as the grandson of Alcetas II. 6 Berve 1926, 2.186, no. 394; Carney 2006, 169 n. 25; Heckel 2006, 74; cf. Sandberger 1970 no. 40. The identity of Cadmea is nevertheless a matter of speculation, since it is based on the assumption that the name reflected contemporary historical events. If Cadmea was the daughter of Alexander, the son of Alcetas (whom Errington 1980, 136 calls “Cassander’s friend”), she may have been born soon after Cassander restored Thebes in 315, although this raises insoluble questions about the relationship between Cassander and the immediate family of Alcetas II. In 312, Alcetas is described as ἀλλοτρίως διακείμενος πρὸς Κάσανδρον (Diod. 19.88.1), but Cassander’s willingness to come to terms with him, even after Alcetas had been defeated by Lyciscus and his sons Alexander and Teucer (after an initial victory) had been overcome by Deinias, suggests that the enmity between them was not so great. In fact, the claim that the Epirotes later found Alcetas’ reign oppressive may refer to his pro-Cassander policies. 7 “When he was about seventeen years old, and seemed to be securely established on the throne, he happened to make a journey abroad for the wedding of one of Glaucias’ sons – one of his foster-brothers. But the Molossians conspired against him, banished his friends, stole his property, and put themselves in Neoptolemus’ hands” (R. Waterfield, OWC).

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won the kingship in 302 and whose sister was named Cadmea (Plut. Pyrrh. 5.11), is identical with the “son/descendant of Neoptolemus” named in the context of 316. But modern reconstructions of the Epirote king-list and political history of the region are unsatisfactory, despite the valiant efforts of Beloch (IV2 2.153). Since a reasonably clear – though, to my mind, misguided – account has been given by N.G.L. Hammond in his monumental study, Epirus (1967), and since this has greatly influenced subsequent scholarship, I address his conclusions in some detail. Hammond writes: “In 331, when Alexander died, his three-year-old son became king of Molossia as Neoptolemus II, and his mother Cleopatra (daughter of Philip of Macedon and Olympias), who had been regent in Alexander’s absence … acted as his guardian, at first alone and then in conjunction with her mother, Olympias, who was a sister of the late Molossian king.”8 This, however, has no support in the ancient sources. There is no explicit mention of a son of Alexander I, nor is Olympias (or Cleopatra, for that matter) identified as the guardian of any Molossian king. Even when she exercises political power in Epirus (SEG 9 no. 2), there is no indication that she is acting as regent for someone else,9 even though we have explicit evidence that Polyperchon later summoned her to Macedonia to assume the epimeleia of a different (attested) grandson, Alexander IV. Instead, we are told that she went to Epirus from Macedonia on account of her fear of Antipater (Paus. 1.11.3: Ὀλυμπιάδος δὲ διὰ τὸν Ἀντιπάτρου φόβον ἐπανελθούσης ἐς ᾽Ήπειρον).10 Furthermore, Hammond believes that Olympias recalled Arybbas from exile “to strengthen herself against Antipater,” adding that she summoned him “not to displace the child Neoptolemus but to act as joint king with him” (1967, 561). The argument that Arybbas returned from exile around 323 is based solely on Diodorus’ description of a Molossian contingent in the Lamian War as τῶν Μολοττῶν οἱ περὶ Ἀρυπταῖον (18.11.1). Hammond remarks that Aryptaeus is “a common variant of the name Arybbas” (ibid.), even though, in his Onomastikon Epeirotikon at the end of the book, he lists only one example of the name Ἀρυπταῖος, and that comes from this very passage of Diodorus. The identification of Arybbas with Aryptaeus goes back to Reuss (1881, 172), and it has gained some acceptance.11 Arybbas is thought to have died soon afterwards and to have been replaced by his younger son, Aeacides, Hammond 1967, 558. I do not see on what basis, except perhaps the faulty chronology of Livy 8.1.24 (on which see Werner 1987; cf. also Yardley and Heckel 1997, 196), Sekunda (2019, 6) dates Alexander I’s death to 326. 9 On this see, however, Kingsley 1986. Hyper. Pro Euxenippo 36 (ὡς ἡ χώρα εἴη ἡ Μολοσσία αὑτῆς ἐν ᾗ τὸ ἱερόν ἐστιν) does not specify that Olympias was regent. 10 There is nothing to resemble the Macedonian kings, Philip III and Alexander IV, who, although they were guided by regents (epimeletai), nevertheless issued decrees in their own names. We have no such decrees for Neoptolemus son of Alexander, except for those dated by Hammond to sometime between 317 and 297, though clearly they belong to 302–297. 11 Not only by Hammond but earlier by Klotzsch 1911, 95–96 and Beloch IV2 2.146; rejected by Errington 1975, 46. In fact, Aryptaeus creates more problems than he solves. 8

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who was pliable to the wishes of Olympias;12 Reuss believes that it could only have been during a second stint as king that Arybbas banished his elder son Alcetas on the grounds of mental instability (Paus. 1.11.5: ἀκρατῆ δὲ ἄλλως θυμοῦ καὶ δι᾽ αὐτὸ ἐξελασθέντα ὑπὸ τοῦ πατρός).13 Reuss contends that the Arybbas Decree (IG II2 226 = Rhodes and Osborne 2003, no. 70), which mentions the Athenian determination to restore “Arybbas and his sons” to Epirus (ἐπιμελεῖσθ[αι] … ὅπως Ἀρ[ύββα]|ς καὶ οἱ παῖδες αὐτοῦ [κομί]|σωνται τὴν ἀρχὴν τὴν [πατρ]ώιαν), shows that Alcetas was still with Arybbas at the time of his exile. Arybbas could have had other children (even sons) and so the plural need not include Alcetas. The decree offers no information about the number or the identities of Arybbas’ paides. It simply stipulated that the strategoi would “see to it that Arybbas and his sons (sc. descendants) be restored to their ancestral kingdom.” Unfortunately, as far as Arybbas’ reinstatement as king goes, Hammond has cherry-picked Diodorus for information concerning Aryptaeus’ leadership of the Molossians and omitted the second half of the passage, which reads “the last named, after making a hollow alliance, later treacherously co-operated with the Macedonians” (οὗτος δ᾽ ὕπουλον συμμαχίαν συνθέμενος ὕστερον διὰ προδοσίας συνήργησε τοῖς Μακεδόσι).14 Hence, Schubert (1894, 108) notes that changing Aryptaeus to Arybbas “ist nicht leicht und dürfte sich auch aus sachlichen Gründen wenig empfehlen, da Aryptaios hinterher zum Verräther geworden und auf die Seite des Antipater übertreten ist.” Suggesting that Arybbas died soon afterwards merely evades the problem. Furthermore, it is difficult to accept the view that Aeacides did not become king until after the Lamian War. Hammond would have us believe that Arybbas (=Aryptaeus) was recalled to share the kingship with a child, who threatened the claims of his own sons; that he led the Molossian forces against Antipater but then changed sides; and that, after his death, his son was recognized as king, despite his father’s treachery! Hammond’s views also involve a long period of joint kingship, which was not the normal practice. Pausanias (1.11.3) comments on the joint kingship of Neoptolemus I and Arybbas precisely because it was unusual (ἦν δὲ ἄχρι μὲν Ἀλκέτου τοὺ Θαρύπου Hammond 1967, 561: “Arybbas evidently died soon afterwards. His son Aeacides succeeded him as joint king with Neoptolemus. A young man, Aeacides was under the influence of Olympias (κατήκοος ὢν Ὀλυμπιάδι, Paus. 1.11.3); and he answered her appeal for help in 317 BC, when she was besieged at Pella [sic] by Cassander” (my emphasis). Calling Aeacides a young man helps Hammond’s case, but it is most likely that he was born in the early 350s and thus was around 40 years old in 317. 13 Reuss 1881, 172–73: “Dass Arybbas nach 340 noch einmal zur Herrschaft gelangt sein muss, scheint mir mit Nothwendigkeit aus der Erzählung Diodors und des Pausanias über Alketas, den Bruder des Aiakides, hervorzugehen … Die Verbannung des Alketas kann füglich nicht vor dem Jahre 340 erfolgt sein und nun im Jahre 313 erwähnt werden.” 14 Thus the Loeb translation of R.M. Geer. Waterfield (in the new OWC of Diodorus 16–20) translates 18.11.1 as follows: “the Molossians who were ruled by Arhyptaeus. But Arhyptaeus’ commitment to the alliance was false and later he treacherously cooperated with the Macedonians.” His explanatory note follows Hammond’s view discussed above. 12

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ἐφ᾽ ἑνὶ βασιλεῖ καὶ τὰ Ἠπειρωτῶν). The first sharing of power, between Neoptolemus I and Arybbas, was amicable enough, but the only other attested dual kingship, that of Neoptolemus II and Pyrrhus (297–296), proved disastrous.

Arybbas and Neoptolemus I It is generally assumed that Arybbas was the younger of the two attested sons of Alcetas I. This is the natural inference that one draws from three facts: Arybbas’ name is absent from the text of the foundation decree of the Second Athenian League (Rhodes and Osborne 2003, no. 22 = Syll.3 147), where Alcetas’ name is followed by that of Neoptolemus; Neoptolemus is attested as ruling on his own (which he could only have done after Alcetas I’s death and during Arybbas’ lifetime); and, after some dispute, Arybbas and Neoptolemus agreed to rule jointly. But it is worth noting that Arybbas was named for the paternal grandfather; for Tharypas is clearly a variant or older form of Arybbas.15 This name should normally be given to the first-born son. It is possible that he was the son of Alcetas I and an earlier wife, and that the second wife (Arybbas’ stepmother) was of higher status or simply favored by her husband, who (with the approval of the Molossian aristocrats) designated him as the rightful heir and associated him in the kingship in Syll.3 147. Arybbas’ later claim to a share of the kingship may have been based on seniority. The fact that, presumably after Neoptolemus’ death, Arybbas married his brother’s daughter, Troas, further suggests that he was adding legitimacy to his kingship by strengthening the family connection. Furthermore, although Arybbas named his first son Alcetas, in keeping with Greek naming practices, his descendants have names that differ from those of Neoptolemus’ descendants, who (like the father himself) reflect the family’s descent from Achilles and, indeed, the Greek side of the mythical line.16 Two sons of Alcetas II bear the names Teucer and Esioneus. Teucer was, of course, the bastard son of Telamon by his Trojan captive Hesione; Esioneus or Hesioneus is the masculine form (not in Hammond’s Onomastikon). The other grandson was called Nisus, the name of the mythical king of Megara and one that is otherwise unattested in the Aeacid line.17 After his marriage to Troas, the names of his descendants follow the pattern begun by Neoptolemus. Although the names are a blend of Trojan and Greek elements, since the founders of the Molossian dynasty were Neoptolemus/Pyrrhus and Andromache, as well as Helenus (the brother of Polyxena; the name given to Olympias at birth), the Greek component predominates. The naming practices may reflect a branch of the family, that of Alcetas I’s first wife, which was sidelined and struggled to regain what it considered its rightful position of dominance. The legitimacy of this branch of the family becomes even more The name has caused Greek historians some difficulty. Diod. 16.72.1 writes Arymbas; 19.88.1 calls him Arrybilos (Alcetas II is said to have been exiled ὑπὸ Ἀρρυβίλου). 16 For the mythical ancestry of the Aeacids see Heckel 1981; Carney 2006, 5–6. 17 The name Alexander appears in both branches of the family. Nisus was also the name of a brother of Aegeus, and together with Teucer-Telamon this may suggest some Athenian connections. 15

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questionable if we assume – as we well might, given Arybbas’ age – that Alcetas II was not the son of Troas but of Arybbas’ previous wife.18 It is likely that both sons of Alcetas I were born in the 390s. They ruled jointly for some time after Alcetas’ death and by the late 360s or early 350s, when Neoptolemus too had died, Arybbas became sole ruler of the Molossians.19 Hence, it was Arybbas, married to Neoptolemus’ elder daughter, Troas,20 who gave his wife’s sister Olympias in marriage to Philip II in 357. Justin (7.6.10–11) writes: “he [Philip] married Olympias, daughter of Neoptolemus, king of the Molossians; the match was arranged by Arrybas, king of the Molossians, who was the girl’s cousin and guardian and was married to her sister, Troas.”21 The sole rule of Arybbas is confirmed also by Plutarch (Alexander 2.2). Both authors confuse the relationship between Arybbas and Olympias, the former calling them cousins, the latter siblings. Arybbas was Olympias’ uncle but also her brother-in-law. The exact dates of the joint rule of Neoptolemus and Arybbas are unknown, but the view that they shared the kingship upon the father’s death is unsubstantiated and contradicted by inscriptions that refer to the sole rule of Neoptolemus I,22 which must have preceded the joint kingship. Arybbas was driven from the throne and replaced by his nephew Alexander I, who reigned for 10 or 11 years.23 His death in Italy in 331 was followed, in the opinion Alcetas II himself had two sets of sons who were separated by many years in age (Alexander and Teucer were capable of military leadership in 312; Nisus and Esioneus were young when they were murdered in 307), and these too may have been the offspring of different wives. 19 I am not sure what Reuss 1881, 161 means when he speaks of the two sons of Alcetas “sharing the rule” and then “dividing the kingdom”: “Ihm [sc. Alketas] folgten seine Söhne Neoptolemos und Arybbas, welche anfangs die Regierung gemeinsam führten, dann aber eine Theilung des väterlichen Reiches vornahmen.” If this division was along geographical lines, I see no evidence for it. At any rate, it pertained only to the Molossians. 20 Uncle-niece marriages are not uncommon, and in this period we have also the marriage of Alexander I to his niece Cleopatra (also Philip Arrhidaeus to Adea-Eurydice). In this case, the marriage to Troas strengthened Arybbas’ claim to the kingship, a move that would have been less urgent if Neoptolemus and Arybbas had been brothers homometrios. (For amphimetric strife, and what he calls “levirate” marriage, see Ogden 1999, who unfortunately does not include the Aeacidae in his discussion.) It is possible that Troas (mother of Aeacides) was Arybbas’ second wife, and that Aeacides’ rival Alcetas had a different mother. 21 Olympiadam, Neoptolemi, regis Molossorum, filiam, uxorem ducit [sc. Philippus], conciliante nuptias fratre patrueli, auctore virginis, Arryba, rege Molossorum, qui sororem Olympiadis Troada in matrimonio habebat. Translation of Justin, here and elsewhere, by J.C. Yardley. 22 Paus. 1.11.3 says: οἱ δὲ Ἀλκέτου παῖδες, ὥς σφισι στασιάσασι μετέδοξεν ἐπ᾽ ἴσης ἄρχειν, αὐτοί τε πιστῶς ἔχοντες διέμειναν ἐς ἀλλήλους. There is no indication that this happened immediately after Alcetas’ death. Inscriptions from the sole reign of Neoptolemus: Hammond 1967, 525–26, 528–31 (restored). 23 Diod. 16.72.1 says that Arybbas died in 343/2 after a reign of 10 years. Both statements are false. The dating of Arybbas’ exile has been challenged by Errington (1975), with some support and refinements by Heskel (1988), but the traditional view that he was ousted in 343/2 or 342/1 prevails (see, e.g., Rhodes and Osborne 2003, 353). These arguments are not relevant to my discussion and thus omitted. If Alexander I was 20 when he was installed as king of Epirus (Justin 8.6.7), Neoptolemus’ death cannot have occurred before 363. 18

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of some scholars, by the recognition of his three-year-old son, Neoptolemus, under the guardianship of Cleopatra and later of Olympias; others favor the accession of Aeacides, perhaps with a share of the kingdom reserved for Neoptolemus, when he came of age. But, as we have seen, the sources say nothing about a regency for Neoptolemus or about his identity.

Aeacides, Son of Arybbas and Father of Pyrrhus The only sources that mention Aeacides’ accession to the throne say that he succeeded Alexander I. Justin (17.3.16) says: “After his death, Alexander was succeeded by his brother [sic] Aeacides, whose incessant military clashes with the Macedonians made him unpopular with his fellow-citizens.”24 Pausanias (1.11.3) does not explicitly state that he became king, but we may infer this from his account: “and later, when Alexander son of Neoptolemus died among the Lucanians, and Olympias returned to Epirus on account of her fear of Antipater, Aeacides son of Arybbas was obedient to Olympias in other matters and campaigned with her against Arridaeus and the Macedonians, although the Epirotes were unwilling to follow him.”25 The son of Olympias’ sister, Troas, Aeacides may have been recalled by the Molossians in 331 or soon afterwards, perhaps when his aunt returned to her homeland. It is not necessary to postulate that Arybbas returned to power and died soon afterwards. Aeacides could easily have been acceptable to those Molossians who supported Olympias for personal reasons. At some point between 331 and 323, Aeacides married Phthia, the daughter of Meno of Pharsalus. He may have spent some of his time in exile with the family, which had long had ties of xenia with the Molossian royal house. Xenophon (Anab. 2.6.28), who was hostile to Meno, says that “Meno himself, though still a beardless youth, had Tharypas as his boyfriend, although Tharypas was mature enough to have a beard.”26 In 317, when he was a steadfast supporter of Olympias, Aeacides was already well into his 30s, or perhaps even 40, and had ruled for several years. There is no indication that he shared the throne with a son of Alexander I. Furthermore, there appears to have been nothing unusual about Aeacides’ elevation to the kingship after the death post eius mortem frater Aeacidas regno successit, qui adsiduis adversus Macedonas bellorum certaminibus populum fatigando offensam civium contraxit. 25 καὶ ὕστερον Ἀλεξάνδρου τοῦ Νεοπτολέμου τελευτήσαντος ἐν Λευκανοῖς, Ὀλυμπιάδος δὲ διὰ τὸν Ἀντιπάτρου φόβον ἐπανελθούσης ἐς Ἤπειρον, Αἰακίδης ὁ Ἀρύββου τά τε ἄλλα διετέλει κατήκοος ὢν Ὀλυμπιάδι καὶ συνεστράτευσε πολεμήσων Ἀριδαίῳ καὶ Μακεδόσιν, οὐκ ἐθελόντων ἕπεσθαι τῶν Ἠπειρωτῶν. 26 Αὐτὸς δὲ παιδικὰ εἶχε Θαρύπαν ἀγένειος ὢν γενειῶντα. Despite Xenophon’s bias and the alleged nature of the relationship, the contacts between the two families are clear. Aeacides’ bond with the younger Meno need not have developed during the Lamian War, as some suggest. But, since Pyrrhus (born in 319/18) had two older sisters (Deidameia and Troas), the wedding of Phthia and Aeacides is likely to have occurred in the last half of the 320s, though almost certainly before the outbreak of the Lamian War. For the elder Meno see Kent 1904, 20–21; for the younger, Westlake 1935, 231–35. 24

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of Alexander I; for Diodorus (19.36.4), after reporting how Aeacides was deposed, says: “Nothing like this had ever happened before in Epirote history, ever since the reign of Neoptolemus, the son of Achilles, up until then, sons had always succeeded to their father’s rule and had died while still occupying the throne.”27 This should not be taken literally; for there are cases where the successor was not the king’s son, or when a foreign power interfered, as in the case of Philip II in 342. What Diodorus means is that not until 316/15 had the Epirotes themselves ousted a sitting king. It appears that there was a smooth transition (perhaps following a short interregnum) from Alexander I to Aeacides. This brings us to the troublesome passage in Plutarch’s Life of Pyrrhus (2.1). Here we are told that, after the defeat of Olympias by Cassander and the failure of the majority of Aeacides’ troops to follow him, Aeacides was expelled from the kingship and the Epirotes brought in the sons (descendants) of Neoptolemus (ἐπηγάγοντο τοὺς Νεοπτολέμου παῖδας). Once it was established to the satisfaction of most scholars that this was a reference to Neoptolemus son of Alexander, the logical conclusion seemed to be that Neoptolemus was king, at least in name, from 316/15 to 312, in some instances alongside Aeacides and Alcetas II. 28 But why would Cassander, who was certainly behind the change of rulers in Epirus, install a member of the anti-Macedonian party (a grandson of his bitter enemy Olympias) as king? There were other candidates, most notably Alcetas II, who in light of his experience ought to have been hostile to the party of Alexander I, Aeacides and Olympias.

Scenario 1: Neoptolemus as Son of Alexander I and Cleopatra When Olympias took refuge in Pydna, her non-military entourage included Rhoxane, Alexander IV, Thessalonice, Deidameia, the daughters of Attalus and “the kinfolk of Olympias’ other more important friends”29. If Olympias had been acting as the guardian of Neoptolemus II, especially after the departure from Epirus of his mother, Cleopatra, one must suppose that the child (though, admittedly, not a very young one) was also with her in Pydna. Olympias’ entourage fell into Cassander’s hands, and it is likely that, at first, they remained at the Macedonian “court” as companions of Thessalonice, whom Cassander had forced to become his wife – though we cannot be certain how

Diod. 19.36.4. R. Waterfield tr. It is remotely possible that the paides Neoptolemou are sons (or a son) of Alexander’s archihypaspistes, the man who defected from the Perdiccan party in 321 and joined Antipater and Craterus. Arr. 2.27.6 calls him an Aeacid; he probably a member of a collateral branch of the royal house. For his career see Heckel 2006, 174 s.v. “Neoptolemus [2].” He may have been a relative of Alexander’s Somatophylax Arybbas, who died in Egypt in 332/1 (Arr. 3.5.5). 29 Diod. 19.35.5, who calls them πλῆθος … ἀχρείων δ᾽ εἰς πόλεμον τῶν πλείστων. Cf. Justin 14.6.3: speciosus magis quam utilis grex. 27 28

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much pressure was involved, especially since Thessalonice (now well past the normal marriage age30) was probably grateful to have found a husband.31 We should also bear in mind that the fate of the Epirote kings was determined to a large extent by the power of the parties that supported them. The frequent references to kings (and to this number we may add Olympias) who became unpopular with or hated by the population are accompanied by references to stasis.32 And, as one would expect, there were those in the state who were either pro- or anti-Macedonian (or, at this time, more specifically pro- or anti-Antipatrid). The opponents of the house of Antipater were headed by Olympias and Aeacides. Neoptolemus was thus also a representative of this group, and it is hard to imagine that Cassander, now that he had the young man in his custody, would return him to his homeland where Cassander’s political enemies could rally round him; equally implausible is that the Epirotes who now hated Olympias and ousted Aeacides, would welcome back Neoptolemus. Nevertheless, Hammond writes: “With Aeacides in exile the Molossians relied on the other branch of the royal family; but Neoptolemus II, being about seventeen years old, was too young to exercise military command in 317 BC. Therefore Cassander sent his own representative, Lyciscus, to act as ἐπιμελητὴς καὶ στρατηγός of the Epirote Alliance (D.S. 19.36).”33 If we follow Hammond, and those who follow him, we merely perpetuate a convenient fiction. But I would not bet one “hair of See Greenwalt 1988. Macurdy 1932, 52–55; Ogden 1999, 53–55; Carney 2000, 155–58; Heckel 2006, 265. Marriage to Cassander: Diod. 19.52.1. The view of Thessalonice as an unwilling bride derives from Antigonid propaganda. Diod. 19.61.2: ὡς Θεσσαλονίκην μὲν βιασάμενος ἔγημεν. 32 The problematic passage from Plutarch reads (in full): ἐπεὶ δὲ στασιάσαντες οἱ Μολοσσοὶ καὶ τὸν Αἰακίδην ἐκβαλόντες ἐπηγάγοντο τοὺς Νεοπτολέμου παῖδας. Epirote rulers who make themselves unloved: “Olympias did not rule for long either. Acting more like a woman than a monarch, she resorted to wholesale slaughter of the nobility and turned the support she had gained into hatred” (Justin 14.6.1); “But glutting her anger with atrocities … soon made the Macedonians hate her [Olympias] for her savagery” (Diod. 19.11.9); “The Epirotes accepted Alcetas as their king, being the son of Arybbas and the elder brother of Aeacides, but of an uncontrollable temper and on this account banished by his father. Immediately on his arrival he began to vent his fury on the Epirotes, until they rose up and put him and his children to death at night” (Paus. 1.11.5); “The Epirotes endured Alcetas’ kingship for a while, but his treatment of the common people was excessively harsh, and in the end they murdered not just him, but two of his sons as well, Esioneus and Nisus, who were just children” (Diod. 19.89.3). Translations of Pausanias and Diodorus are from the Loeb editions. See the discussion in Carney 2006, 106–107. 33 Hammond 1967, 567. Sandberger (1970, 165) goes further and links Lyciscus’ epimeleia directly with Neoptolemus’ kingship: “Kassander gab ihm damals den Strategen Lykiskos als Epimelet und sicherte sich damit einen Einfluß in Epirus.” It is also misleading to speak of Neoptolemus as belonging to “the other branch of the royal family” (cf. Sandberger 1970, 165: “der einzige Vertreter der älteren Linie des molossischen Herrscherhauses”), for, as we know Aeacides was as much a descendant of Neoptolemus (through his mother) as Neoptolemus II was (through his father). The “other branch” in this case must have been represented by Alcetas II and his sons, Alexander, Teucer, Nisus and Esioneus. Alcetas was in all likelihood not the son of Troas (cf. Cross 1934, 47 n. 1). 30 31

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my chinny, chin, chin” that this house of cards can withstand the blast of vigorous scrutiny. The theory requires numerous periods of joint kingship and several joint kings (Arybbas and Neoptolemus, Aeacides and Neoptolemus,34 and even Alcetas II and Neoptolemus), none of them documented either in literature or epigraphy, before we get to the only true joint kingship, that of Pyrrhus and Neoptolemus II in 297–296. Nor is Lyciscus’ epimeleia in Epirus in any way connected with the guardianship of an underaged king. Indeed, one wonders how the young claimant to the throne could have survived the ambitions of his more worldly co-rulers; for the obvious solution to an unwanted sharing of power was clearly demonstrated when in 296 Pyrrhus eliminated Neoptolemus II on what was probably a trumped up charge of conspiracy. For Cassander, there was no advantage to be gained from placing Neoptolemus II on the Molossian throne; and, since Hammond makes a point of distinguishing between ἐπήγαγοντο and κατήγαγοντο, in order to show that Neoptolemus was not being returned from exile, we must assume that on his theory the young man was not in Cassander’s custody but elsewhere. Hammond proposes that Plutarch’s Greek should be taken to mean “the Molossians now brought Neoptolemus into office as king.”35 But why, one must ask, would they have needed to bring Neoptolemus into office as king if he had already been co-ruler of Epirus since 331?36 I suggest that Plutarch (Pyrrh. 2.1) confuses the two exiles of Pyrrhus – i.e., the one in 316/15 (Pyrrh. 2.1) and that of 302 (Pyrrh. 4.1–2) – and reports the installation of Neoptolemus in the wrong context. A better appreciation of the change of rulers and its political background may be gained if we consider the fates of those who were in Olympias’ entourage in 316/15. Of those known by name, Thessalonice, as we have seen, was forced to marry Cassander; Rhoxane and Alexander IV were imprisoned in Amphipolis and eventually killed; Deidameia, as the young king’s betrothed, must also have remained either at Cassander’s (or Thessalonice’s) “court” or in Amphipolis, at least as long as Cassander maintained the fiction that he was guardian of the legitimate king. What became of the “daughters of Attalus” (presumably the children of Attalus and Atalante, and possibly twins) matters little, given that their parents were members of the defeated Perdiccan faction and, at any rate, no longer alive.37 Perhaps they were given respectable marriages; to kill them would have amounted to gratuitous violence, unnecessary even by the standards of the Diadochic age. There were others, unnamed, and it is probable that these included the son of Alexander I (if he existed). I believe that this young man (if he was the son of Alexander I and Cleopatra) remained in Cassander’s custody as a useful pawn in future negotiations with the Epirotes. And it was not long before this policy came to fruition. Carney 2006, n. 29: “There is no evidence of their shared kingship.” Hammond 567 n.1, adding “Klotzsch 112 n. 1 is of my opinion.” 36 Hammond 1967, 567: “Arybbas evidently died soon afterwards. His son Aeacides succeeded him as joint king with Neoptolemus” (my emphasis). 37 Heckel 1987, 118 (cf. Heckel 1978); Hammond, in Hammond and Griffith 1988, 142. 34 35

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We know that Deidameia was married to Demetrius Poliorcetes at the festival of Hera in Argos in July, 303 (Plut. Demetr. 25.2 and Pyrrh. 4.3, with Nederlof 1940, 20–21). How is it that she was in the Peloponnese and in a position to marry Cassander’s bitter enemy?38 One possibility is that when Glaucias of Illyria restored Pyrrhus to his rightful throne in 307 – the same year that Cassander lost control of Athens – an alliance was made between Pyrrhus (and his adoptive father, Glaucias) and Cassander,39 for the latter sought allies in this difficult time when he was threatened by both Demetrius and Ptolemy. The agreement may have been sealed by the return of Pyrrhus’ sister, who had spent most of her young life in Macedonia. After a few years Pyrrhus – probably at the urging of his advisors – abandoned the agreement with Cassander and allied himself with Demetrius, sealing the deal by the marriage of the Besieger to Deidameia (Plut. Pyrrh. 4.3; Demetr. 25.2). Not long afterwards, Pyrrhus, who was still only 17 years old, went to Illyria for the nuptials of one of his foster-brothers, a son of Glaucias, and in his absence was overthrown by the Molossians (Plut. Pyrrh. 4.1–2). Pyrrhus’ opponents must have called on Cassander, who returned Neoptolemus, now a man of 30 years, to his homeland and the throne he believed was rightly his.40 Pyrrhus, as is well known, joined his brother-in-law and fought with distinction at Ipsus (Plut. Pyrrh. 4.4). Later he served as a hostage at the court of Ptolemy (Plut. Pyrrh. 4.5–7). In 297, Ptolemy restored Pyrrhus to Epirus, where he shared the kingship with Neoptolemus. By 296, when both Cassander and his son Philip IV were dead, Neoptolemus was executed on a charge of treason. This will have come as a surprise to no one, except perhaps the inept victim. Nor will there have been much doubt that Pyrrhus had devised the whole affair.41 Neoptolemus I and Arybbas, their respective grandfathers, did not pollute the office with fratricide, but Neoptolemus II and Pyrrhus were not brothers, and they lived in different times. After the deaths of Alexander I of Epirus and his Macedonian namesake, the Epirote homeland was under increased pressure from factions that supported or opposed the various Diadochi. The kingship became the tool of these factions, whose foreign policy was dictated by external forces. Under such circumstances dual kingship was both unnecessary – except, perhaps, as a measure to placate the opposing party – and unworkable Most scholars ignore the question of her whereabouts between 317 and 303. Sandberger (1970, 68), at least, admits “über das Schicksal … der D. wissen wir nichts.” 39 For the struggle for power in the northwest between Cassander and Glaucias see Diod. 19.67–78. 40 Hammond, in Hammond and Griffith 1988, 176 sees only a casual connection between the marriage to Deidameia and the expulsion of Pyrrhus: “At Argos he [sc. Demetrius] married a Molossian princess, Deidameia, daughter of Aeacides, who had been betrothed to Alexander IV; this strengthened his ties with the Molossians hostile to Cassander, and gave him a connection with the last legitimate king of Macedonia. His hopes of Molossian support were dashed in 302, when a change of power in Molossia brought Neoptolemus back and caused Pyrrhus to flee to Demetrius.” 41 See Schubert 1894, 27, 123–26. The account in Plut. Pyrrh. 5 gives Antigone, Pyrrhus’ wife and the daughter of Ptolemy’s mistress and later wife, Berenice, a prominent role. Ptolemy I Soter would no doubt have approved of Pyrrhus’ actions. 38

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for the very reason that it conflicted with the aspirations of the dominant party. The pro-Cassander faction drove Aeacides and his immediate family out of Epirus and accepted Alcetas (formerly an enemy) only after reaching an agreement with Antipater’s son (Diod. 19.89.1). Pyrrhus in turn was placed on the throne as the result of what must have been another concession by Cassander. But the anti-Cassander faction soon allied itself with Demetrius, offering him the king’s sister Deidameia as his bride. Hence, in Pyrrhus’ absence in 302, the opponents of Demetrius, exiled him and gave the kingship to Neoptolemus II. Pyrrhus was returned to Epirus with the backing of his “father-in-law” Ptolemy,42 and shared the kingship with Neoptolemus II. The latter’s position was, however, weakened by the recent death of his supporter, Cassander, and Pyrrhus easily eliminated him. The two cases of dual kingship were thus very different and, whatever the true familial relation was between Neoptolemus and Pyrrhus, there was no bond of affection. Indeed, in the early Hellenistic period the limits of brotherly love became painfully obvious.43

Scenario 2: Neoptolemus II as Son of Alexander, Son of Alcetas II By comparison, this theory presents the fewest problems. Nevertheless, Plutarch’s reference to “the children (descendants) of Neoptolemus” (Pyrrh. 2.1) once again presents problems: if Neoptolemus II was the grandson of Alcetas II, we must assume that he was not the subject of this passage. A grandson of Alcetas II would not qualify as a descendant of Neoptolemus, except by matrilineal descent, through his grandmother Troas, and it may very well be that Alcetas II was not a son of Troas. Furthermore, if he had been a grandson of Troas, it would be difficult to explain why the Epirotes would overlook both Alcetas and Alexander as candidates for the kingship in favor of the (certainly very young) Neoptolemus. Once again, we are forced to admit that whatever Plutarch (Pyrrh. 2.1) presents is either a confused version of events or a clumsy doublet of the events of 302 (Pyrrh. 4.1). With the instatement of Neoptolemus in 302, the family of Arybbas would once again have been have been restored to the kingship: Arybbas had ruled as sole king from ca. 357 (if not earlier) Seibert 1967, 100: “Es ist nicht bekannt, ob Ptolemaios I. von allem Anfang an weitergehende Pläne mit dem Epiroten hatte. Sehr wahrscheinlich werden sie erst im Umgang mit dem jungen Mann enstanden sein. Auf jeden Fall spannte ihn Ptolemaios in seine Politik ein.” 43 Plut. Demetr. 3.2 notes that Antigonus Monophthalmus was proud to display to foreign visitors how he had no fear of his own son, who entered his presence carrying weapons from the hunt. It was now considered a virtue not to be a threat to one’s relatives. Cassander’s son Antipater murdered his own mother because she favored his brother Alexander, and would probably have treated him in similar fashion (Plut. Pyrrh. 6.3; Justin 16.1.1–4; Plut. Demetr. 36.1); Ptolemy son of Lysimachus murdered his half-brother Agathocles (if we follow Heinen 1972, 3–17, who rejects the view that the murderer was Ceraunus; and Ceraunus himself murdered two sons of his new wife, the widow Arsinoë II, whose life has been treated brilliantly by Carney 2013); Ptolemy II also murdered a brother named Argaeus (Paus. 1.7.1); and Agatharchus, son of the Sicilian tyrant (King) Agathocles, also murdered his half-brother in order to secure the throne (Diod. 21.16.3). 42

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to 342; Alcetas II held the office from 312 to 307; and now Neoptolemus ruled from 302 until his death in 296.

Scenario 3: Neoptolemus II, grandson of Neoptolemus the archihypasptes Arrian (2.27.6) tells us that the hypaspist commander (Plut. Eum. 1. archihypaspistes) – he appears to have been the successor of Nicanor son of Parmenion – was one of the Aeacidae (Νεοπτόλεμος τῶν ἑταίρων τοῦ Αἰακιδῶν γένους). Hence, it has been suggested that when Plut. Pyrrh. 2.1 speaks of τοὺς Νεοπτολέμου παῖδας, he is speaking of descendants of this Neoptolemus and not Neoptolemus I. The failure of the sources to make the connection need not trouble us: Plutarch does not identify Neoptolemus II as the son of Alexander – we know this only from inscriptional evidence – or which Alexander his father was, nor does he identify the Neoptolemus whose sons or descendants gained the throne. How Neoptolemus fits into the family tree of the Aeacidae is impossible to say with certainty, but he was probably an Aeacid on his mother’s side. Nowhere is he identified by patronymic. Nevertheless, in order to bring this theory in line with the epigraphic evidence, we must postulate a son of the archihypaspistes named Alexander. The father would then have been born ca. 360 (possibly a son of a sister of Neoptolemus I and a brother of the Somatophylax Arrybas named by Arrian 3.5.5) and Alexander himself would thus have been born before his father set out on the Asiatic expedition. In that case, Neoptolemus II’s birth would have occurred ca. 320 or shortly thereafter. Cadmea may have been after Cassander’s restoration of Thebes in 316/15. Once again, however, we must assume that Plutarch incorrectly dates Neoptolemus’ accession to the throne to 316/15 instead of 302. At the end of the century, the Molossians, having expelled Pyrrhus, could turn only to a possible grandson of Alcetas II or of Neoptolemus the archihypaspistes.

Conclusion Scholars have constructed a house of cards in an attempt to interpret Plutarch, Pyrrhus 2.1. But sometimes, as we can see from Diodorus’ account of the death of Arybbas (16.72.1), the statements of the ancient sources are simply wrong. Plutarch was as fallible as any writer, and if we accept that he confused the two occasions on which Pyrrhus was driven from his homeland, the dynastic history of the Molossians becomes less complex. The view that dual kingship was institutionalized by the Epirotes, as Bengtson suggests,44 is based on no good evidence, and the complex system of sharing the crown proposed by Beloch and accepted, to varying degrees, by Lévêque and 44

Bengtson 1975, 92: “Das Königtum der Molosser war in historischer Zeit doppelt besetzt, eine Anomalie, die sich auch in Sparta findet, jedoch mit dem Unterschied, daß bei den Molossern beide Könige aus dem gleichen Herrscherhaus stammten.”

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Hammond has only two attested examples, and these are anomalies.45 We are supposed to imagine that Neoptolemus II was recognized as king from 331 until 316, at the end of which time he was summoned to the throne he already occupied. What happened to him between 316 and 307 is not clear. Then, we are told, he was placed on the throne in 302, without any indication that he had held the kingship previously or reference to his pedigree. Neoptolemus II, whoever he was (Scenarios 1–3 examine the historical consequences of three different identifications), cannot have been elevated to the kingship in 316/15. He became sole king in 302 and, after accepting Pyrrhus as a co-ruler in 296, he was soon eliminated by his rival.

Fig. 4.1 The Molossian Royal House

Bibliography

Bengtson, H. (1975) Herrschergestalten des Hellenismus. Munich, C.H. Beck. Berve, H. (1926) Das Alexanderreich auf prosopographischer Grundlage. 2 vols. Munich, C.H. Beck. Carney, E.D. (2000) Women and Monarchy in Ancient Macedonia. Norman, OK, University of Oklahoma Press. Carney, E.D. (2006) Olympias. Mother of Alexander the Great. London and New York, Routledge. Carney, E.D. (2013) Arsinoë of Egypt and Macedon. A Royal Life. Oxford, Oxford University Press. 45

See Beloch IV2 2.153 for an implausible Königslist. Hammond’s views have been discussed above; but see also Lévêque 1957, 99.

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Cross, G.N. (1934) Epirus. A Study of Greek Constitutional Development. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Errington, R.M. (1975) Arrybas the Molossian. Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 16, 41–50. Errington, R.M. (1990) A History of Macedonia. Translated by Catherine Errington. Berkeley and Los Angeles, University of California Press. Garoufalias, P. (1979) Pyrrhus. King of Epirus. London, Stacey International. Greenwalt, W.S. (1988) The age of marriageability at the Argead court. The Classical World 82, 93–97. Hammond, N.G.L. (1967) Epirus. Oxford, Clarendon Press. Hammond, N.G.L. and Griffith, G.T. (1988) A History of Macedonia. Vol. 3. Oxford, Clarendon Press. Heckel, W. (1978) On Attalos and Atalante. Classical Quarterly 28, 377–82. Heckel, W. (1981) Polyxena, the mother of Alexander the Great. Chiron 11, 79–86. Heckel, W. (1987) Fifty-two anonymae in the history of Alexander. Historia 36, 114–19. Heckel, W. (2006) Who’s Who in the Age of Alexander the Great. Prosopography of Alexander’s Empire. Malden and Oxford, Wiley-Blackwell. Heinen, H. (1972) Untersuchungen zur hellenistischen Geschichte des 3. Jahrhunderts v. Chr. Historia Einzelschrift 20. Wiesbaden, Franz Steiner Verlag. Heskel, J. (1988) The political background of the Arybbas decree. Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 29, 185–96. Kent, R.G. (1904) A History of Thessaly from the Earliest Historical Times to the Accession of Philip V of Macedonia. Lancaster, PA, New era Printing Company. Kingsley, B. (1986) Harpalos in the Megarid (333–331 BC) and the grain shipments from Cyrene (S.E.G. IX 2 + = Tod, Greek Hist. Inscr. II no. 196). Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 66, 165–77. Klotzsch, C. (1911) Epirotische Geschichte. Dissertation. Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität, Berlin. Lévêque, P. (1957) Pyrrhus. Paris, E. de Bocchard. Macurdy, G.H. (1932) Hellenistic Queens. Baltimore, The Johns Hopkins Press. Nederlof, A.B. (1940) Plutarchus’ Leven van Pyrrhus. Historische Commentaar. Amsterdam, H.J. Paris. Ogden, D. (1999) Polygamy, Prostitutes and Death. The Hellenistic Dynasties. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. Reuss, F. (1881) König Arybbas von Epeiros. Rheinisches Museum 36, 161–74. Rhodes, P.J. and Osborne, R. (2003) Greek Historical Inscriptions 404–323 BC. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Sandberger, F. (1970) Prosopographie zur Geschichte des Pyrrhos. Dissertation. Munich, Universität Stuttgart. Seibert, J. (1967) Historische Beiträge zu den dynastischen Verbindungen in hellenistischer Zeit. Historia Einzelschriften 10. Wiesbaden, Franz Steiner Verlag. Sekunda, N. (2019) The Army of Pyrrhus of Epirus. Oxford, Osprey. Schubert, R. (1894) Geschichte des Pyrrhus. Königsberg, Verlag Wilhelm Koch. Waterfield, R. (trans.) (2019) Diodorus of Sicily. The Library, Books 16–20. Oxford World’s Classics. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Werner, R. (1987) Alexander der Molossier. In W. Will and J. Heinrichs (eds) Zu Alexander dem Großen. Festschrift G. Wirth. Vol. 1, 335–90. Amsterdam, Hakkert. Westlake, H.D. (1935) Thessaly in the Fourth Century BC. London, Methuen. Yardley, J. and Heckel, W. (1997) Justin. Epitome of the Philippic History of Pompeius Trogus. Vol.  1: Alexander the Great. Translated by J.C. Yardley, Commentary by W. Heckel. Oxford, Clarendon Press.

Marriages and Family: Mistress, Wife and Daughter

Chapter 5 Barsine, Antigone and the Macedonian War

Sabine Müller After the battle of Ipsus, Barsine, daughter of the former satrap Artabazus, widow of Memnon of Rhodes, and sister of the Persian general Pharnabazus, was caught by Parmenion and his troops in Damascus where she had been expected to be safe. Thereafter, her “love affair” with Alexander became public. At the same time, the Macedonian Antigone, also taken captive in Damascus, became the mistress of Philotas, Parmenion’s son. The ancient literary sources tend to add a romantic coloring to the reports on Alexander’s relationship with Barsine. This paper aims at analyzing the role of the two women in the context of Macedonian (psychological) warfare. Interestingly, Parmenion is said to have advised Alexander to start the affair with Barsine. The paper will focus on Barsine’s family background inasmuch as she was Pharnabazus’ sister and Memnon’s widow and on Antigone’s former status as Autophradates’ former captive. It will be no coincidence that Pharnabazus and Autophradates continued the Persian counterattack in the Aegean Sea after the death of Memnon who initiated it and tried to gain back Persian control over the area. Thus, the fate of the two captive women will be interpreted against this socio-political background as well as in the more general context of treatment of female captives in Macedonian warfare.

Introduction The current scholarly focus on the role of women, particularly royal women, in Argead Macedonia owes much to Elizabeth Carney and is based essentially on her research. Her groundbreaking studies enabled the awareness of the complexity of female roles in Macedonia as “participants in an interlocking web of relationships that dominated the public life of Macedonia” (Carney 2010a, 409) – far beyond domestic duties and reproduction. She pointed out that Argead monarchy was the rule of a clan and the spaces of action of its female members were defined by their being part of this clan (Carney

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1995; 2016, 7–11; 2019, 8), so that they could participate in shaping the presentation of their dynasty (Carney 2010b, 43). Another of her manifold important contributions to scholarship concerns her research on the meaning of names of a clan’s members as a kind of dynastic advertisement (Carney 1988; 1991, 158–60; 2010b, 44–45), stressing the importance of onomastic studies in particular in cases where contemporary evidence is scarce. In this paper in honor of Elizabeth Carney, I would like to address three aspects that are main subjects of her impressive oeuvre: the importance of the clan in political structures (however, in this case, a Persian clan), the dynastic symbolism of names of a clan’s members, and the role of female war captives. After the battle of Issus, Barsine, the daughter of the former satrap Artabazus, was captured by Parmenion in Damascus where she had been expected to be safe (Diod. 17.23.5; Curt. 3.13.14). Thereafter, her “love affair” with Alexander became public (Arr. Anab. 7.4.6; Curt. 10.6.11; Just. 11.10.2–3; Plut. Alex. 21.4; Diod. 17.23.5; cf. Carney 2000a, 101–105). At Damascus, the Macedonian Antigone was also taken captive. She ended up as a mistress of Philotas, Parmenion’s son (Plut. Alex. 48-3-4; Mor. 339e). This paper aims at analyzing the role of Barsine and Antigone in the context of Macedonian (psychological) warfare. Therefore, it will focus on Barsine’s family background and Antigone’s former status as the Persian admiral Autophradates’ “booty”. At the time of the women’s capture after Issus, the men with whom they were associated were crucial figures of the Persian resistance to the Macedonian invasion. Barsine’s brother Pharnabazus and Antigone’s former captor Autophradates formed part of the Macedonians’ most effective enemies since they led the fierce Persian counterattack in the Aegean Sea (Ruzicka 1988; Briant 1996, 844–48). The fate of Barsine and Antigone after their capture will be interpreted in the context of this crucial stage of the Macedonian invasion, in terms of personal connections and the general treatment of female captives in Macedonian warfare.

Barsine, her clan, and its connections The history of Barsine’s family mirrors instructively the political developments in the Aegean in the 4th century BC and shows the power constellations, political shifts and personal networks at work.1 Under Philip II and Alexander III, when the Macedonians tried to establish their control over the Aegean as the new kids on the block, the often long-established connections of members of Barsine’s house with other Persian potentates and Greek politicians were an issue. The claims of the former hegemonic forces of Greece – in particular Athens, to a lesser extent Sparta and Thebes – to a dominant position in the Aegean had left their traces. Personal ties did not cease to 1

I am grateful to Ed Anson, Monica D’Agostini and Frances Pownall for giving me the chance to contribute to the Festschrift for Beth, and to Waldemar Heckel, Lucinda Dirven and Anneli Purchase for their kind suggestions. On social network analysis and ancient history see Rutherford 2009; Vlassopoulos 2009; Constantakopoulos 2010; Malkin 2011.

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exist. The Macedonians had to enter or neutralize a complex web of interpersonal ties bonding Persian families with other Persian houses, the Great King with the families of his officials, Greek politicians and Greek mercenary generals with Persian political actors or with the Great King. The case of the involvement of Artabazus’ clan in the Persian defence against the Macedonian invasion is an instructive example of how such networks functioned. The role of Barsine whose fate mirrors the political changes of her times illustrates to some extent how the Macedonians tried to cope with the phenomenon of these interpersonal links bonding their opponents. Barsine’s grandfather was Pharnabazus, the satrap of Hellespontine Phrygia known for his silver coins bearing the Greek legend ΦΑΡΝΑΒΑ and showing his portrait on the obverse (Moysey 1986). His link to the Achaemenid court was manifest: he married Artaxerxes II’s daughter Apama (Xen. Hell. 5.1.28; Plut. Artax. 27.7; Nep. 9.2.1; cf. Brosius 1996, 78). Pharnabazus established connections to Athens and provided himself with a place in the Athenian collective memory (Athen. 13.570c) with a good reputation as a benefactor of the Athenian demos (Xen. Hell. 4.8.9–10; IG II² 356). In 394 BC, he assisted the Athenian admiral Conon in crushing Sparta’s position in the Aegean and made himself even more popular by donating money to rebuild the walls of the Piraeus and Athens’ Long Walls torn down in 404 (Xen. Hell. 4.3.11–13; 4.8.1–2, 9–10, 12, 31; 4.8.5–10; Diod. 14.81.4–6; Nep. 9.2.2–4.5). Pharnabazus’ successor Ariobarzanes who governed the ancestral satrapy in about 368–363/2 was on good terms with the Athenians. When he tried to extend his influence over the Thracian Chersonese, the Athenians chose to back him to counterbalance the power of the Thracian ruler Cotys (Cawkwell 1984, 335; Harris 1989, 269; Heskel 1997, 123–25; Buckler 2003, 352–53). As a result, Ariobarzanes was granted Athenian citizenship (Dem. 23.141). In these Anatolian-Hellespontine networks, another person became crucial for the career of Barsine’s father, Artabazus, who would succeed Ariobarzanes: the latter’s southern neighbor Autophradates, satrap of Lydia and an ally of Cotys (Polyaen. 7.26; cf. Heskel 1997, 143, 151). Troubled by Ariobarzanes’ expansion (Weiskopf 1989, 41–44), Autophradates took the opportunity to get rid of him when he and young Artabazus were sent by the Great King against Datames, the rebellious satrap of Cilicia and Cappadocia (Diod. 15.91.2–7; Polyaen. 7.26; Front. Strat. 2.7.9; Nep. 14.7–8) who cooperated with Ariobarzanes.2 In 363/2, Ariobarzanes lost his satrapy and Artabazus was recognized as his successor (Weiskopf 1989, 53–54; Heskel 1997, 150). While Autophradates had favored Artabazus, after the young satrap had secured most of the Troad, at the end of the 360s (Heskel 1997, 119–21, 149–51), trouble occurred: Autophradates took him captive (Dem. 23.154). The reason for this – only brief – arrest is unclear (Weiskopf 1989, 62–63). Autophradates himself released Artabazus quickly, apparently willing to continue their cooperation. Julia Heskel (1997, 119–21) rightly points out that he could easily have murdered him. That he refrained from 2

Ruzicka 2012, 129–31 suggests that it was the same enterprise in one joint command. Cf. Childs 1981, 75; cf. Sekunda 1988, 49.

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doing so showed that he still regarded him as politically useful. But in about 356/5, Artabazus fell from grace with Artaxerxes III. The background is unclear.3 Artabazus fought for his satrapy until about 352, when he found refuge at the court of Philip II (Diod. 16.11.1, 34.1, 52.3; Polyaen. 7.33.2; PVindob inv. G 29316; Curt. 5.9.1). As for Artabazus’ Greek connections, the strongest tie was to Rhodes: his wife (her name is unknown) was the sister of the Rhodian mercenary generals Memnon and Mentor. Reportedly, she bore Artabazus 11 sons (Heckel 1987, 131–32) and 10 daughters (Diod. 16.52.3–4), but perhaps she was the stepmother of some of them. Apparently, a strongly united house, the wife, children and Memnon accompanied Artabazus to his exile in Macedonia. They stayed at Pella until about the mid-340s when Artabazus was pardoned and allowed to return to Persia (Diod. 16.52.1–3). While he was not restored in his former satrapy (now governed by Arsites: Arr. Anab. 1.12.8; Paus. 1.29.10, probably one of his relatives), he and his family, in particular Mentor and Memnon, re-entered the circles of the most influential Persian officials and enjoyed a high position at the court of Darius III (Arr. Anab. 3.27.7; Curt. 5.9.1; cf. Briant 1996, 718). It may have been a reason that they will have provided valuable insider information on Macedonian political structures. Artabazus’ inner family was intensely bonded by endogamy: first Mentor and after his death (after about 341/0) Memnon married their niece Barsine and produced children with her (Curt. 3.13.14). Thus, the brothers were Artabazus’ son-in-laws and brother-in-laws and their children his grandchildren and nephews and nieces simultaneously. Memnon was specifically influential in Asia Minor, particularly in the Troad. It can be assumed that the estates he and his brother were given by the Great King as a reward (Polyaen. Strat. 4.3.15), perhaps before Artabazus’ revolt and after the reconciliation returned to them were located there (Kholod 2018b, 182–97). When the Macedonian invasion began, Artabazus’ house acted as a united clan: the male members of the family core shared the same political stand. Being Darius’ loyal supporters until the king’s end became inevitable (Curt. 5.12.7–8), they played a crucial part in the two-fold resistance by sea and by land. The female members and thus representatives of the clan also became involved in the dynamics of war and conquest. In his years before his exile, Artabazus (and his sons-in-law) established ties to other Greeks that became useful later on. The clan was connected with one of the most prominent Greek mercenary generals, the Athenian citizen Charidemus from Euboea with his multiple ties to Persian and Athenian politicians (Parke 1933, 125–32; Pritchett 1974, 85–89; Landucci Gattinoni 1994, 44–52). Mentor and Memnon employed Charidemus to free Artabazus, when Autophradates had arrested him (Dem. 23.154). 3

Artaxerxes III’s clamp-down on satrapal mercenary forces soon after his accession (schol. Dem. 4.19; cf. Moysey 1992, 165) is generally not seen as the reason. Artabazus seems to have obeyed this order (cf. Diod. 16.22.1). Ruzicka (2012, 155, 157–58) assumes that Artaxerxes III was suspicious of Artabazus though and wanted to remove him. Briant (1996, 701) considers that Artabazus’ enemies at court denounced him as a rebel (comparable to the case of Datames as described by Nep. 14.5.3; cf. Sekunda 1988, 51).

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While the cooperation was a problem since Charidemus strove to become an independent force in Anatolia instead of freeing Artabazus (Heskel 1997, 150), the Rhodian brothers protected Charidemus from Artabazus’ anger (Dem. 23.154–158) when he had been set free by his captor. Probably, Charidemus’ link to Artabazus’ family never ceased to exist and was useful to both parts when the Macedonian invasion began. Charidemus had been to the court of Darius III as an Athenian ambassador before (obviously sent by Demosthenes’ faction: Din. 1.32; cf. Landucci Gattinoni 1994, 51). When he fled from Greece about 335, he found shelter in Persia and served as Darius’ military adviser (Arr. Anab. 1.10.6; Curt. 3.2.10; cf. Bianco 2014, 24). Although he was executed about two years later under unknown circumstances (Diod. 17.30.2–6; Curt. 3.2.11–19), in the time before, he will have cooperated again with Artabazus and Memnon: they were focal persons regarding the Persian defence against the Macedonians. During his fight for his satrapy, about 355/4 BC, Artabazus employed the mercenary leader Chares (Landucci Gattinoni 1994, 52–58; Pritchett 1974, 77–85), at that time Athens’ naval commander in the Aegean in the Social War (Diod. 16.22.1; cf. Sealey 1993, 183; Bianco 2002, 12–13; Buckler 2003, 380–83; Ruzicka 2012, 156–57). Artabazus paid him well, relieved the Athenians (who were short of money) of the expenses for Chares’ mercenaries, and pleased the latter with a generous gift of money (Diod. 16.22.1–2). In the Athenian collective memory, Artabazus owned a place as the rebellious satrap who pays extremely well (Dem. 4.24) and as a powerful benefactor of Athens (IG II² 356 = RO no. 98 = Tod no. 199; cf. Schwenk 1985, 289–94; Lambert 2018, 141–43). After Chares’ return, Artabazus hired the Theban mercenary general Pammenes with 5,000 men (Diod. 16.34.1–2; Polyaen. Strat. 7.33.2). Perhaps this Theban connection provided Artabazus with the refuge in Pella: Pammenes hosted teenage Philip during his time as a hostage in Thebes ca. 368–365 (Plut. Pelop. 26.5).

Defending Persia However, when Artabazus’ and his Macedonian hosts’ paths crossed again in the context of the Macedonian invasion of Persia, they were enemies. Apparently, the tie to Philip and his house was a weak one in comparison to Artabazus’ links to Darius III and the Athenian factions that supported him (although Athens was a member of the Corinthian League).4 Any memories of Artabazus’ remote past in Pella, cute little Alexander, or Philip as a kind host did not count. The decisive personal tie bonded Artabazus’ house with Darius (Heckel 2016, 27, n. 38). Interestingly, the name Autophradates emerges again in the context of cooperation with Artabazus’ house during the Macedonian invasion. A Persian admiral 4

As for the question of the degree of interaction of the polis or empire and individual within this process, while apparently Chares’ personal connections to Artabazus played a role, these links had been established by Chares as a mercenary general, not as a private person. When coming to the aid of Pharnabazus, he helped his old acquaintance’s son but he will have been paid. Additionally, he fought in the interests of a faction of his polis that objected to the Macedonian hegemony. Thus, individual, economic, political and military aspects overlapped.

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named Autophradates took over the Persian counter-offensive in the Aegean together with Artabazus’s son Pharnabazus when Memnon died about the summer of 333 (Arr. Anab. 2.1.3, 2.1). The sources do not provide us with any information on this Autophradates’ background. Applying Elizabeth Carney’s results on the dynastic dimension of a clan’s names (1991, 158–60; 2010b, 44–45) to Persian families, the naval commander Autophradates was likely an offspring of Artabazus’ old Lydian acquaintance (Heckel 2006, 65). His young namesake may have earned his position in the footsteps of Memnon by assisting him in 336/35 in Ephesus when the Macedonian control established by Philip’s vanguard under Parmenion and Attalus was eliminated (Heckel 2006, 65). There may have been another offspring of an old acquaintance of Artabazus (and old Autophradates) who joined the Persian defense. The naval commander of Pharnabazus’ and Autophradates’ Aegean fleet who was sent with 10 ships to take the Cyclades (Arr. Anab. 2.2.2) bore the name Datames. In combination with the high command hinting at Datames’ noble rank, his name could be an indicator that he was a member of the clan of the Cappadocian satrap Datames, Artabazus’ former opponent (Heckel 2006, 105). The cooperation shows that, faced with the Macedonian threat, in Asia Minor, old feuds and rivalries became unimportant. Additionally, it shows these Persian officials’ staunch support for Darius. Apparently, the Great King could count on his satraps in the West. The short period of local unrest and disintegration in Western Anatolia in the 360s, hardly a “Great Satraps’ Revolt” as Diodoros (16.90.1–4) implies, but interrelated conflicts and rivalries of the satraps involving their allies (Weiskopf 1989, 10, 13, 95), did not have a lasting impact on Achaemenid rule over the area. The threat posed by the Macedonian intruders intensified the stability. The Anatolian satraps were united in their stand against them. Given their traditionally close connections to the Greeks, it may have made things easier that they shared the opinion of leading factions in Athens, Sparta and homeless Theban survivors: Macedonia as a hegemonic force was unwelcome.5 A most central figure of the Persian defense was Memnon, Darius’ joker and éminence grise regarding the fight for control in the Aegean. In 336, when Philip sent an advance force under Parmenion and Attalus to Asia Minor to secure strongholds (Diod. 16.91.2; 17.2.4; Just. 9.5.8), Memnon reversed their initial successes, defeated them at Magnesia-on-the-Maeander (Polyaen. Strat. 5.44.3), forced them to break off the siege of Pitane in the Aeolid (Diod. 17.7.9–10), and kept them confined to a small 5

This may be illustrated by the fact that after Issus, Parmenion captured envoys from Athens, Sparta and Thebes who were present in Darius’ camp (Curt. 3.13.3–17; Arr. Anab. 2.15.1–3). The list of names differs. Bosworth (1980, 233–34) thinks that Curtius is right listing three Athenians (Iphicrates, Aristogiton and Dropides), while Arrian correctly names the Thebans omitted by Curtius (Thessaliscus and Dionysodorus) and the Spartan Euthycles. Some of the envoys had ancestors connected to Persian court. Cf. Berve 1926, 155, 189–90, 266. They had obviously hoped for a Persian victory. Likely, they had been instructed to congratulate and then ask the Great King to subsidize their citizens’ own prospective fight against the Macedonian control over Greece.

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beachhead at Abydus (Panovski and Sarakinski 2011; Kholod 2018a). However, this stronghold sufficed; the main army under Alexander landed in 334. Despite Memnon’s first-hand experience of the defeat at Granicus (Arr. Anab. 1.15.2; Diod. 17.19.4), he did not lose heart. In the period of 334–332, the ties of Artabazus’ house became visible, reflected by the cooperation of different political factors joining the Persian defense. Artabazus’ and Darius’ links to Athenian circles and individuals – in particular Chares and the faction of Demosthenes – seem to have played a crucial role in this unity. The defense of the most important naval base of Halicarnassus may mirror these connections instructively. Memnon and another staunch supporter of Darius, the Carian satrap Orontobates (who had substituted for the apparently fickle Pixodarus: Arr. Anab. 1.23.6–8; Strab. 14.2.17), were in command, supported by two Athenian generals (Diod. 17.25.6): Thrasybulus who had served together with Chares in 353/2 (IG II² 1613.270) and Ephialtes who was politically connected with Demosthenes (Din. 1.32–33). Appointed as Darius’ commander-in-chief in the Aegean (Arr. Anab. 2.1.1), Memnon took the opportunity to reclaim the Aegean when the Macedonians disbanded their fleet after Miletus’ fall, leaving this flank open (Diod. 17.22.5; Arr. Anab. 1.20.1). Memnon forced them to reconstitute their fleet (Curt. 3.1.19; Arr. Anab. 3.2.6). After the seizure of Chios, when besieging Mytilene, Memnon died unexpectedly about the summer of 333 (Arr. Anab. 2.1.3; Diod. 17.29.3–4). His nephew Pharnabazus took over together with his colleague Autophradates (Curt. 3.3.1, 13.14; Arr. Anab. 2.1.3, 13.5). They recaptured crucial Aegean and Western Anatolian bases (Lesbos, Tenedos, Andros, Siphnos), tried to cut the Macedonian lines of communication to Europe, and subsidized Agis III’s revolt (Arr. Anab. 2.1.4–5, 2.2–3, 2.13.4–6; 3.2.3–4; Curt. 4.1.36–37; cf. Berve 1926, 181–82; Ruzicka 1988; Müller 2019, 92–96). The role of Chares in this context is particularly interesting. When the Macedonians arrived in 334, he was present and greeted Alexander when he entered Ilium (Arr. Anab. 1.12.1). There is an unfortunate lacuna in Arrian’s unique testimony hiding the information on the background of their encounter (Landucci Gattinoni 1994, 52; Wirth 1998, 68–70, 120; Bianco 2002, 25). However, it is mainly believed that Chares came from his refuge at Sigeium, which he had once sacked during his service for Artabazus (Parke 1933, 123; Bosworth 1980, 103; Heckel 2006, 83). It will be no coincidence that Chares had been in a sphere of influence secured by Memnon, the relative of Chares’ old acquaintance Artabazus. Brian Bosworth (1980, 13) rightly assumed that Chares’ formal surrender to Alexander was nothing more than a conciliatory gesture in order to play it safe. Shortly after, he came to the aid of Pharnabazus and garrisoned Mytilene with his 2,000 mercenaries after Pharnabazus had taken it (Arr. Anab. 3.2.6; Curt. 4.5.22). The Persian side knew that the Macedonians were coming. The reasons why the Persian fleet could do little to prevent their crossing of the Hellespont are debated. Arguing against the suggestion that the fleet had not yet returned from defeating a revolt in Egypt, Edward Anson has pointed out that it could do little since the Macedonian vanguard had regained the crucial beachheads in Asia Minor (1989, 44–49).

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Then came Issus. However, the Persian defeat was not a decisive event. Hence, despite Issus and setbacks in the Aegean where the new Macedonian fleet began to strike back (Arr. Anab. 3.2.6–7), there was no sign of capitulation: “the grand Persian strategy remained unchanged” (Ruzicka 1988, 144; cf. Briant 1996, 849–50). Pharnabazus and Autophradates kept on fighting, Chares held Mytilene, and Artabazus, his other sons, and nephew Thymondas supported Darius’ attempts to reorganize his resistance. There was hope that the Persian side could turn the tables. The end of the Aegean counter-offensive came only in 332 when the Phoenician fleet defected to the Macedonians, and Tyre fell (Ashley 1988, 107; Sealey 1993, 206; Briant 1996, 848; Heckel 2008, 68; Müller 2019, 117). But, after Issus, the Persian fleet was still superior. This was exactly the situation when it became publicly known that a female key figure of Artabazus’ house who was associated with leading contributors to the Persian resistance had been captured by the Macedonians and taken by Alexander as his mistress (Plut. Alex. 21.4; Diod. 17.23.5; cf. Curt. 10.6.11; Just. 11.10.2–3): Barsine, Artabazus’ daughter, Pharnabazus’ sister, Memnon’s widow who had previously before given birth to her baby son by her late husband. The context is obviously war, not love.

Barsine and Antigone as captives When Parmenion captured Darius’ camp at Damascus, the Achaemenid royal women, female members and children of high-ranking Persian families must have been aware of the worst-case scenario. They were in an exposed and vulnerable situation. In times of war, captive girls, women and boys could not expect to be spared (Scodel 1998, 138; Gaca 2014, 305–306; 2015, 279; Heckel and McLeod 2015, 253–58; Rollinger 2018). Analogized with ideas of superiority, military success and dominance, enslavement, rape and other forms of physical violence were brutal and cruel by-products of war and conquest (Gaca 2011, 77–88). As abhorrent symbols of victory, such forms of violation were the common fate of captured girls and women. The Alexander historiographers mention en passant (not approvingly but as a relative routine consequence of war) that the Macedonian soldiers enslaved, raped, violated or robbed Persian women (after Issus: Curt. 3.11.21–22; Diod. 17.35.6–36.1; in Persepolis: Diod. 17.70.6). The merciful treatment of female captives is depicted as an exception to the rule and sign of Alexander’s clemency and magnanimity. As Waldemar Heckel and J.L. McLeod (2015, 260) state, this abuse of the defeated “whether it involves physical violence or loss of freedom, is often a carefully orchestrated policy aimed at humiliating the enemies who are thus stripped of … their dignity.” Thus, regardless whether Alexander and Barsine knew each other from Artabazus’ exile at Pella, it seems to be a euphemism to speak of her as his mistress or lover. In this situation, if he had made use of his victor’s position to treat the new mother as a part of his booty, she was his victim. It is also not essential to the argument that reportedly this sexual relationship was continued and produced a son called Heracles in about 327/6 (Curt. 10.6.10–13; Just.

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13.2.7; 15.2.3; Diod. 20.20.1–2; App. Syr. 52; Paus. 9.7.2).6 This was another stage of the conquest that saw a change of Barsine’s role since her family had submitted to Alexander in 330. But in 333, after Issus, they were still resisting. At a time when Barsine’s brother held on to crucial bases in the Aegean and Western Anatolia and her other male relatives helped Darius to levy new forces to sustain the war – in particular her (step?) son Thymondas who commanded the Greek mercenaries (Arr. Anab. 2.2.1. 13.2; Curt. 3.3.1) – this looks suspiciously like a piece of psychological warfare intended to demoralize them. While also Barsine’s mother, young brother Ilioneus/Hystanes, children from Mentor, newborn baby son from Memnon, Pharnabazus’ wife and son, and maybe sisters (Artonis and Artakama) were taken captive at Damascus (Curt. 3.13.14), Barsine was most closely associated with all of the key figures of the Persian resistance. Her age is a matter of debate (Heckel 2006, 70). If Mentor’s son Thymondas, a iuvenis in 333 but old enough to command the infantry at Issus (Curt. 3.3.1, 9.2; Arr. Anab. 2.13.2), probably about 20 (cf. Heckel 2006, 267: born ca. 355), was born by her, she must have been in her mid-30s, hence considerably older than Alexander. Anyway, she was still young enough to be plausible as his mistress. It has been suggested that becoming Alexander’s mistress was an honor for Barsine, an attempt to please her relatives and make them join the Macedonian course (Brosius 1996, 78; Ogden 2009, 42–43, 205–206). In consequence, Barsine’s status is seen as a stepping-stone for Artabazus and his sons’ later submission to Alexander. However, for several reasons, this is not convincing. Even if (which is far from certain), analogized with the idea expressed in the Iliad that the most high-ranking warriors got the best part of the booty (1.93–139), the Macedonians thought that by choosing Barsine among all the captured noble Persian women, Alexander distinguished and honored her remarkably, her clan members will not have shared this opinion. This is clearly illustrated by their ongoing resistance to the Macedonians and loyal support of Darius. In addition, our ancient sources stress unanimously that Alexander’s treatment of the Achaemenid royal women whom he did not touch was an honor (Arr. Anab. 2.12.5; 4.19.6; Plut. Alex. 21.4–5; 22.2; 30.3; Mor. 522a; Diod. 17.38.1–3; Curt. 3.12.21–26; 4.10.18–19; Just. 11.9.15–16, 12.6–8; cf. Carney 2003, 248). This was considered a special favor because, sadly, it was an exception to the rule and not the kind of treatment female and in general young captives could expect from the victors. Barsine’s Achaemenid descent as the great-grandchild of Artaxerxes II also did not save her. There were less distantly related relatives, Darius’ captured wife and daughters, who provided better examples of Macedonian “clemency.” The Macedonians took the carrot-and-stick approach. In order to appeal to the Persian leading circles 6

The identity of Heracles is not undisputed. Since he makes his appearance only late in the sources, there are suggestions that he might have been a pretender used by Polyperchon or Antigonus to counter Cassander’s claims (Pearson 1960, 117; Tarn 1921, 18–22). The question of age is another matter: if Barsine was in her mid-30s in 333, she would have been in her early 40s in 327/6, probably a rather old mother according to the perspective of the ancients.

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trying to make them cooperate it would have been unwise to repel them by violating the daughters and wife of the still ruling king. Therefore, the Macedonian side played safe: Alexander acted like a brother to Darius’ wife and daughters (Carney 2000a, 96–97; 2003, 246). Barsine’s considerably different treatment will have been another blow to her family. It might have been another example of “shock and awe” or “Rapid Dominance” the Macedonians employed as one of a variety of strategies to destroy an opponent’s will to resist, as Edward Anson has shown (2015, 212–30). This tactic of bringing an adversary to his knees was applied selectively (Anson 2015, 214), apparently also in the case of Barsine’s family. In all likelihood, Barsine’s clan regarded her status as a captive exposed to Alexander’s physical violence as a disgrace. It was a visible sign that they had failed in protecting their family. This meant a loss of face. In addition, they will have worried about their other captured relatives. Pharnabazus’ young son and Barsine’s baby son by Memnon (Curt. 3.8.12; Diod. 17.32.3) disappeared from the records (Heckel 1987, 131). According to Athenaeus (6.256d–e) citing Clearchus of Soli, Barsine’s mother survived but lived a miserable life in her old age. Interestingly, he claims this also for Barsine. However, despite his own contemporary experience in Asia Minor and connection with the son of Artabazus’ predecessor Ariobarzanes (Diod. 15.81.5; Just. 16.4–10–16), Clearchus’ information is biased by stereotypes concerning Persian tryphe (Lenfant 2007, 54, 57; Verhasselt 2016, 62). Being political pragmatists, Artabazus and his family did not show any sign of being demoralized. They carried on defending the Persian Empire. Ariobarzanes, the satrap of Persis, who fiercely defended the Persian Gates in 331 (Curt. 5.3.17–4.34; Arr. Anab. 3.18.2–9; Diod. 17.68), was probably another son of Artabazus (Berve 1926, 61; Shayegan 2007, 100; Heckel 2019; Müller 2019, 142). Only after Darius’ death that ended the family’s personal bond with him, when Bessus (with whom they did not want to ally) declared himself the king, hence three years later, they defected to Alexander who pardoned them (Arr. Anab. 3.23.7). Primarily, they seem to have surrendered to him because Alexander had become the enemy of their enemy. Obviously because of Artabazus’ firm opposition to Bessus and his allies in the eastern satrapies (such as Satibarzanes in Areia whom he helped to defeat: Arr. Anab. 3.28.2; Curt. 7.3.2), he became the new (shortlived) satrap of Bactria and Sogdiana (Arr. Anab. 3.29.1; 4.15.5; Curt. 8.1.19). Certainly, his appointment had nothing to do with Barsine’s relationship with Alexander but with politics: the strategy of counterbalancing different Persian factions hostile to each other. The suggestion that Barsine became involved in a piece of Macedonian psychological warfare would also help to explain Aristobulus’ otherwise strange information that Parmenion told Alexander to take her as his mistress (BNJ 139 F 11 = Plut. Alex. 21.4–5). As Elizabeth Carney pointed out (2000a, 104), the language clearly implies that he suggested a sexual relationship with the high-ranking woman, not a marriage. Certainly, being the supervisor of a ruler regarding his sex life did not form part of Parmenion’s duties and Alexander in his early 20s was old enough to be not in need

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of this kind of love school. However, if we take Aristobulus’ information seriously, connect it with Parmenion’s military leadership, look at the contemporary events of the campaign, and explore Barsine’s family background, it confirms the impression that it was a political move. Barsine became a token of victory and element of a threatening gesture directed against her family. Since Parmenion was responsible for strategy and tactics including psychological warfare, it makes sense that he told Alexander to take Barsine as his mistress, significantly because of her family background (Plut. Alex. 21.4–5). However, as this move contradicted Alexander’s image as a merciful gentleman, consequently, the sources favorable to him chose the love theme claiming that Alexander fell for Barsine’s beauty (Plut. Alex. 21,4–5).7 Trogus-Justin (11.10.2–3) gives the theme a negative twist hinting at Alexander’s lack of self-control and loss of morals. Suspiciously, after the capture of the camp at Damascus, it also became known that Parmenion’s son Philotas took another of the female captives as his mistress: the Macedonian Antigone. It will be no coincidence that she formed part of Autophradates’ entourage and was his booty captured by him on Samothrace (Plut. Alex. 48.3–4; Mor. 339d–f), likely earlier in 333 (Hammond 1993, 84, n. 1; Heckel 2006, 32, 65; 2016, 54, 132, n. 60). Taking away another warrior’s booty was a blatant gesture of humiliation, a triumphant sign of superiority. The most famous literary example is provided by the Iliad: being forced to give his war prize, the slave Briseis, to Agamemnon, an infuriated and humiliated Achilles (Alexander’s maternal progenitor: Plut. Alex. 2.1) who felt dishonored refused to re-enter the battle (Il. 1.130–356). The Homeric epics and particularly the Iliad are believed to have had a strong influence on the Macedonian elite and Argead courtly culture (cf. Carney 2015, 28–29; 197–98). So this theme of the warrior who was deprived of his booty will have been well known among Alexander’s high-ranking generals. Thus, perhaps instigated by Parmenion, the news about Philotas’ and Alexander’s “Damascus mistresses” must have been a blow to Autophradates’ honor as a warrior and the honor of Pharnabazus’ whole family. Thus, two central values were concerned. However, they carried on their Aegean campaign that ended only in 332 with the defection of the Phoenician fleet and loss of Tyre. Chares was forced to hand over Mytilene (Curt. 4.5.22; Arr. Anab. 3.2.6); Pharnabazus was captured at Chios and brought to Cos but was able to escape (Arr. Anab. 3.2.7). Edward Anson will be right in suggesting that his father and brothers negotiated his surrender when they submitted to Alexander in 330 (Anson 2004, 108, n. 109).8 Autophradates vanished from the records.

On artifice in Alexander historiography see Carney 2000b. On Callisthenes’ artifice as the official court historiographer under Alexander see Pownall 2014, 60–68. 8 Pharnabazus made his reappearance in 321/20: he commanded two hipparchies of indigenous cavalrymen for his new brother-in-law Eumenes, now the satrap of Cappadocia and Paphlagonia (Plut. Eum. 7.1). Cf. Anson 2004, 108; 2013b, 102; Heckel 2016, 151. 7

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Changing roles It is difficult to assess what became of Barsine and Antigone since the ancient authors are not interested in them in their own right. Additionally, the case of Antigone is complicated by the fact that she was believed to have been indirectly involved in the end of Philotas (Hammond 1993, 85; Heckel 2006, 32; 2016, 54–59; Anson 2013a, 167–68). According to Plutarch, she was used by her acquaintance Craterus in order to spy upon Philotas and reveal his secret slanders against Alexander (Alex. 48–4.5; Mor. 339e–f). In any case, after the end of the Aegean counterattack and the disappearance of Autophradates, she had lost her value as a means to demoralize him. Barsine’s role changed too. With the failure of the Persian counterattack in 332 and finally her family’s submission to Alexander in 330 (Arr. Anab. 3.23.7), she lost much of her political value as a hostage. As Waldemar Heckel (2019) has shown, Artabazus’ clan was not restored to its former distinguished position under Darius. While Artabazus was briefly the satrap of Bactria and Sogdiana and his son Cophen enrolled in the Persian cavalry unit (Arr. Anab. 7.6.5), there is no record of service under Alexander for any other of his sons. His house became one family among others that cooperated with the Macedonians and one of them was involved in the mass marriages Alexander organized in Susa in 324. Artabazus’ daughter Artonis was given to Eumenes, her sister Artacama to Ptolemy, and one of his grandchildren, a daughter of Barsine and Mentor, to Nearchus (Arr. Anab. 7.4.5–6).9

Conclusions The involvement of Artabazus’ clan in the Persian defence against the Macedonian invasion sheds light on personal or clan relationships in the Aegean: between satrapal houses, officials and the king, but also Persians and Greek poleis or individual actors. Barsine becomes visible to us because of the role in the war the invaders forced upon her. This role as a captive and hostage was defined by her status as a part of the clan that was most crucial for the Persian resistance. She was a central female member of her house since she was most closely associated with leaders of the Persian defence (her father, brothers, (step?)son) and Aegean counterattack (her late husband, her brother). A similar involvement in the Macedonian psychological warfare can probably 9

Barsine was not among the brides. It is uncertain whether Artonis was kept by Eumenes (Heckel 2016, 237, n. 37) and identical with the anonymous wife (Shayegan 2007, 102) to whom his corpse was sent (Plut. Eum. 19.2). The woman in question may alternatively have been Eumenes’ previous wife he left behind when he set out for the campaign in 334 (Heckel 2006, 56). However, the fact that Artonis’ brother Pharnabazus fought for Eumenes in 321/20 may imply that he kept Artonis. Artacama may have been repudiated by Ptolemy after Alexander’s death. Nothing is heard of her thereafter and there is no record that they had children. Cf. Brosius 2003, 177; Heckel 2006, 55–56; Worthington 2016, 113; Müller 2019, 199–200. However, it is uncertain. Strabo (12.8.15) confuses her with Seleucus’ Iranian wife Apama. On Apama, see D’Agostini 2020. On the symbolism of the marriages at Susa cf. Brosius 2003, 177–78; Carney 2003, 246–47. On Argead weddings as advertisements of dynasty in general, see Carney 2010b, 47; 2017; 2019, 11–12.

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be concluded in the case of Antigone. She did not belong to some influential house but she was the “booty” of another focal person of the Persian defence, Autophradates. Taking his “spoil” away and making it their own was a gesture of superiority and dominance. In the course of the Macedonian conquests, the role of the women changed depending upon time, setting and respective recipients. However, influenced by the male perspective of ancient authors such as Plutarch, female captives such as Barsine or Antigone are still today perceived as lovers of and literally in love with their Macedonian captors. Their own point of view does not seem to play a major role; they are not called victims of rape but mistresses, a rather euphemistical term that does not seem to do justice to their role as “war prize” that was forced upon them. Due to the focus on our sources on Alexander, we have little information on the feelings of the captive women. Only Diodorus (who often gives vivid accounts of war atrocities illustrating a reversal of fate) comments emphatically on the suffering of the Persian women captured after Issus (17.35.4–36.1); Curtius depicts the captive Achaemenid royal women as mostly grieving, weeping, wailing and mourning, either because of the loss of their position, family members, fear or infortune (3.12.3–16; 4.10.19–22; 10.5.20–22). There will be some truth in these scarce references to the emotions of captive women who became involved in (psychological) warfare.

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Kholod, M. (2018a) The Macedonian expeditionary corps in Asia Minor (336–335 BC). Klio 100, 407–46. Kholod, M. (2018b) Achaemenid grants of cities and lands to Greeks: the case of Mentor and Memnon of Rhodes. Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 58, 177–97. Lambert, S. (2018) Inscribed Athenian Laws and Decrees in the Age of Demosthenes. Leiden, Brill. Landucci Gattinoni, F. (1994) I mercenari nella politica ateniese dell’età di Alessandro: Parte I. Soldati e ufficiali mercenari ateniese al servizio della Persia. Ancient Society 25, 33–61. Landucci Gattinoni, F. (1995) I mercenari nella politica ateniese dell’età di Alessandro: Parte II. Il ritorno in patria dei mercenari. Ancient Society 26, 59–91. Lenfant, D. (2007) “On Persian tryphe” in Athenaeus. In C. Tuplin (ed.) Persian Responses: Political and Cultural Interaction in the Achaemenid Empire, 51–65. Swansea, Duckworth. Malkin, I. (2011) A Small Greek World: Networks in the Ancient Mediterranean. Greeks Overseas. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Moysey, R.A. (1986) The silver stater issues of Pharnabazus and Datames from the mint of Tarsus in Cilicia. The American Numismatic Society Museum Notes 31, 7–61. Moysey, R.A. (1992) Plutarch, Nepos, and the Satrapal revolt of 362/1 BC. Historia 41, 158–68. Müller, S. (2019) Alexander der Große. Eroberung – Politik – Rezeption. Stuttgart, W. Kohlhammer. Ogden, D. (2009) Alexander’s sex life. In W. Heckel and L.A. Tritle (eds) Alexander the Great. A New History, 203–17. Oxford, Wiley. Panovski, S. and Sarakinski, V. (2011) Memnon the strategist. Macedonian Historical Review 2, 7–26. Parke, H.W. (1933) Greek Mercenary Soldiers. Oxford, Clarendon. Pearson, L. (1960) The Lost Histories of Alexander the Great. New York, The American Philological Association. Pownall, F. (2013) Aristoboulos of Kassandreia [139]. Brill’s New Jacoby (brill-s-new-jacoby/ aristoboulos-of-kassandreia-139–a139). Pownall, F. (2014) Callisthenes in Africa: the historian’s role at Siwah and in the proskynesis controversy. In P. Bosman (ed.), Alexander in Africa, 56–71. Pretoria, V&R. Pritchett, W.K. (1974) The Greek State at War, Vol. II. Berkeley and LA, UCP. Rhodes, P.J. and Osborne, R. (2003) Greek Historical Inscriptions: 404–323 BC. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Rollinger, C. (2018) Vae victae. Die Frau als Beute in der antiken (römischen) Kriegsführung. In C. Walde and G. Wöhrle (eds) Gender und Krieg, 91–126. Trier, WTV. Rutherford, I. (2009) Network theory and theoric networks. In I. Malkin, C. Constantakopoulou and K. Panagopoulou (eds) Greek and Roman Networks in the Mediterranean, 24–38. London and New York, Routledge. Ruzicka, S. (1988) War in the Aegean, 333–331 BC: a reconsideration. Phoenix 42, 131–51. Ruzicka, S. (2012) Trouble in the West. Egypt and the Persian Empire 525–323 BCE. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Schwenk, C.J. (1985) Athens in the Age of Alexander. The Dated Laws and Decrees of the Lykourgan Era, 338–322 BC. Chicago, Ares Pub. Scodel, R. (1998) The captive’s dilemma: sexual acquiescence in Euripides Hecuba and Troades. Classical Philology 98, 137–54. Sealey, R. (1993) Demosthenes and his Time. A Study in Defeat. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Sekunda, N.V. (1988) Some notes on the life of Datames. Iran 26, 35–53. Shayegan, M.R. (2007) Prosopographical notes: the Iranian nobility during and after the Macedonian conquest. Bulletin of the Asia Institute 21, 97–126. Tarn, W.W. (1921) Heracles, son of Barsine. Journal of Hellenic Studies 41, 18–28. Tod, M.N. (1948) Greek Historical Inscriptions, Vol. II. Oxford, Oxford University Press.

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Verhasselt, G. (2016) What were works Περὶ βίων? A study of extant fragments. Philologus 16, 59–83. Vlassopopoulos, K. (2009) Beyond and below the polis: networks, associations, and the writing of Greek history. In I. Malkin, C. Constantakopoulou and K. Panagopoulou (eds) Greek and Roman Networks in the Mediterranean, 12–23. London and New York, Routledge. Weiskopf, M.N. (1989) The So-Called “Great Satraps’ Revolt”. Stuttgart, Steiner. Wirth, G. (1998) Der Kampfverband des Proteas. Spekulationen zu den Begleitumständen der Laufbahn Alexanders. Amsterdam, Hakkert. Worthington, I. (2016), Ptolemy I. King and Pharaoh of Egypt. Oxford, Oxford University Press.

Chapter 6 Antipater and His Family: A Case Study

Franca Landucci Antipater, previously a close collaborator of Philip II, was appointed by Alexander as governor of Macedonia. He had furious clashes with the king’s mother, Olympias, who had also been left in Macedonia, and did not relish the process of progressive orientalising of the court brought about by Alexander in order to potentially integrate the Macedonian winners with the defeated Persians. After Alexander’s death, Antipater, who had fathered many sons and daughters, mostly used his daughters Phila, Nicaea and Eurydice to foster matrimonial ties with the main protagonists of the age of the Successors: Phila became the wife of Demetrius Poliorcetes, Nicaea the wife of Lysimachus, and Eurydice the wife of Ptolemy. This paper highlights the importance of these ties insofar as they marked and sealed fruitful political-military alliances in the aristocratic and archaic Macedonian society of the second half of the 4th century BC. All these marriages profoundly marked the fates of those who contracted them. Among Antipater’s grandsons, Agathocles, son of Nicaea and Lysimachus, was executed by order of his father, and Ptolemy Ceraunus, son of Eurydices and Ptolemy I, was repudiated by his father who favored Ptolemy II, his son by Berenice. Only Antigonus Gonatas, son of Phila and Demetrius Poliorcetes, did succeed in becoming king, merging two dynasties which had been mutually hostile for several years. In practical and legal terms, he was the sole heir of the Antigonids and the Antipatrids but, as is common in patriarchal societies like the Macedonian one, the name that eventually survived over time was that of the Antigonids and not of the Antipatrids. At the beginning of the 1980s, Elizabeth Carney started to investigate in depth the issues related to the female members of the Macedonian aristocracy. To these she devoted her work Women and Monarchy in Macedonia, published in 2000, which soon became a key reference study for anyone wishing to deal with the history of the Macedonian women before and after Alexander the Great. Only a year earlier, in 1999, Daniel Ogden published his volume Polygamy, Prostitute and Death, which marked a crucial turning point in the studies on interfamily relations

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in the world of the Hellenistic dynasties. Ogden’s work focuses on the problem of the existence, in the context of the Hellenistic courts, of non-hierarchical polygamy and of consequent non-hierarchical legitimacy in successions. According to him, these issues are already present in the Argead dynasty and still extant among the Successors and their descendants.1 Ogden starts from the observation, supported by the literary tradition in its entirety, that the presence of non-hierarchical polygamy always created strong rivalries within the various reigning dynasties. On this ground, he thinks that a crucial reason for the weakness of the different Hellenistic monarchies originated precisely from the violent clashes arising among sons of the same father and different mothers. Ogden qualifies these clashes with the expression of “amphimetric disputes,” where the adjective is a neologism he created based on a transcription of the (very rare) Greek adjective amphimetor that, according to Hesychius, indicates precisely a son sharing the same father, but not the same mother, with other siblings.2 Along the conceptual line of the close relationship between mothers and sons in polygamous royal families, Elizabeth Carney observed in a 1993 paper that “in a polygamous situation the mother of a king’s son is very likely to form a political unit with him, the goal of which is his succession” (Carney 1993, 320‒21). Thus, considering these observations, it seems important to analyse interfamilial relations in the first generation of the Hellenistic dynasties in order to highlight the implications and political consequences deriving from them. For this reason, I believe it is interesting to focus on Antipater who, immediately following Alexander the Great’s death in June 323, most evidently “used” his own daughters to weave a dense (yet full of uncertainties) network of political‒military relations over the years.3

Antipater’s Origins The little we know about Antipater’s origins has been passed down by the scholarly tradition.4 In particular, in his Macrobioi Pseudo-Lucian affirms that Antipater’s father was called Iolaus (Ἀντίπατρος ὁ Ἰολάου),5 a name of strong Heraclean reminiscence considering that in mythology Heracles had a nephew named Iolaus who often acted as a coachman and companion for his uncle. Pseudo-Lucian also affirms that See Ogden 1999, ix‒xxxiv, for a broad presentation of the topics developed in the text. On polygamy in the Hellenistic dynasties, see now van Oppen de Ruiter 2011, 83‒92; 2015, 147‒173: both papers with full discussion of the (English) bibliography. 2 Hesych. s.v. ἀμφιμήτωρ (A 4064)· ὁμοπάτριος, ἀλλ’ οὐχ ὁμομήτριος. The same lemma is present also in the remaining lexicographic tradition, in a more or less shortened form: see e.g. Phot. Lex. ἀμφιμήτωρ (A 1352)· ὁ ὁμοπάτριος μέν, οὐχ ὁμομήτριος δέ; Suda s.v. ἀμφιμήτωρ (A 1747) ὁ ἑτερομήτωρ. 3 In general on Antipater and his family, see Grainger 2019, a book that summarizes what we know without full discussion of bibliography. 4 On Antipater’s life, see Heckel 2006, 35‒39 and, above all, Heckel 2016, 33‒43, with full discussion of bibliography. 5 [Lucian] Macrob. 11: ὁμοίως δὲ καὶ Ἀντίπατρος ὁ Ἰολάου μέγιστον δυνηθεὶς καὶ ἐπιτροπεύσας πολλοὺς Μακεδόνων βασιλέας ὑπὲρ τὰ ὀγδοήκοντα οὗτος ἔτη ζήσας ἐτελεύτα τὸν βίον. 1

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Antipater enjoyed a very powerful life, tutored various Macedonian sovereigns and died at over 80. The Suda devotes two lemmas (A 2703 and 2704) to Antipater. The second (the shortest) focuses on his victory in the so-called Lamian War;6 the first provides a brief biography of the dynast while still devoting much room to the Lamian War, and mentions in particular, besides his father’s name (Iolaus), his birth city (an otherwise unknown Paliura in Macedonia), and the fact that he served as Philip II’s general. According to this lemma, Antipater engaged in some (otherwise unknown) form of scholarly activity as Aristotle’s pupil, was the author of a collection of letters and of a history of the Illyrian wars of a Perdiccas (easily identifiable as Philip’s elder brother who died in battle against the Illyrians in 360), and expired at the age of 79, leaving his son Cassander as heir. No other son, daughter or wife (or wives) of Antipater are mentioned.7 Modern scholars generally consider summer/fall 319 (Attic year 319/18, archon Apollodorus) to be the date of Antipater’s death.8 They underline, in primis, that, according to the ancient sources,9 the death, due to illness, of the old regent occurred shortly after the murder of the Athenian Demades in Macedonia. They highlight, in secundis, that the terminus post quem of the orator’s death is the early summer of 319, as his presence in Athens in June of that year is attested in an assembly decree (IG II² 383 b, addenda p. 660) proposed by him on the tenth day of the tenth (and last) prytany of Neaichmos’ archonship 320/19.10 We can therefore assume that Antipater was born between 400 and 398, and that he was already an adult in 360/59 when Philip II acceded to the throne. Since no source reports the name of Antipater’s wife (or wives), we know nothing about the mother (or mothers) of his sons and daughters.11 In any case, Cassander, his most important and famous son, is unlikely to have been his first-born as he did not bear the name of his paternal grandfather as the most widespread Greek onomastic tradition would require. In this regard, Ogden (1999, 54) hypothesises that Cassander On the Lamian War, see Landucci Gattinoni 2008, 53‒109; Walsh 2015, 1‒27. Suda (A 2703) s.v. Ἀντίπατρος, Ἰολάου, πόλεως δὲ Παλιούρας τῆς Μακεδονίας, στρατηγὸς Φιλίππου, εἶτα Ἀλεξάνδρου, καὶ διάδοχος βασιλείας· μαθητὴς Ἀριστοτέλους. κατέλιπεν ἐπιστολῶν σύγγραμμα ἐν βιβλίοις βʹ, καὶ ἱστορίαν, τὰς Περδίκκου πράξεις Ἰλλυρικάς. καὶ ἐπετρόπευσε μὲν τὸν υἱὸν Ἀλεξάνδρου, τὸν Ἡρακλέα κληθέντα. μόνος δὲ τῶν διαδόχων θεὸν καλέσαι Ἀλέξανδρον οὐχ εἵλετο, ἀσεβὲς τοῦτο κρίνας. ἐβίω δὲ ἔτη οθʹ καὶ κατέλιπεν υἱὸν καὶ διάδοχον Κάσσανδρον. 8 The dating of Antipater’s death to the year of Apollodorus’ archonship is accepted both by Diodorus (beginning of Apollodorus’ archonship: 18.44.1; Antipater’s death: 48.4‒5) and by the Marmor Parium (BNJ 239 F B 12). For an analysis of this issue, with full discussion of bibliography, see Landucci Gattinoni 2008, xliii‒xlvi. 9 See Diod. 18.48.1‒5, with commentary by Landucci Gattinoni 2008 ad loc.; Plut. Phoc. 30.9‒10. 10 On the epigraphic testimonia of Demades’ broad political activity in those years, see Brun 2000, 177–78. 11 For a list of Antipater’s sons, with basic bibliographical references, see Heckel 2016, 34‒35; for an analysis of what we know about each of them, not so much as Antipater’s sons but rather as Cassander’s brothers and sisters, see Landucci Gattinoni 2003, 58‒79. 6 7

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was his father’s most valued son, or the first-born of his most beloved wife, and that for this reason he was chosen by Antipater at the expense of his older half-brothers. In my opinion, however, we cannot exclude that a first-born son named Iolaus had died while still young, thus making way for the younger Cassander; Antipater may well have decided to recall his father’s name once more in his later years, considering that in the tradition the youngest of his sons bore the name of Iolaus.12 According to this perspective, we can therefore assume that Cassander was the second-born son, and that Antipater had one and only one wife: our sources, indeed, always speak of Cassander’s brothers and sisters never mentioning different maternal ancestry, as they regularly do in relation to Alexander the Great’s brothers and sisters and Ptolemy I’s sons and daughters.

Antipater’s Children Sons We know the names of seven sons of Antipater (Cassander, Nicanor, Alexarchus, Iolaus, Perilaus/Prepelaus, Philip and Pleistarchus),13 who came to the fore in history after their father’s death, to help Cassander, who was committed to building his own personal power like Alexander’s other successors. Only Cassander, Iolaus and Philip seem to have played a role in Alexander the Great’s history as, according to a tradition which is strongly hostile to the Antipatrids, it was they who poisoned Alexander in Babylon, obeying a specific paternal order. As Luisa Prandi (2013, 202‒203) recently highlighted, the tradition claiming that Alexander was poisoned cuts across almost all ancient testimonies: in Justin (12.14.1‒9) it is presented as a pure and simple explanation of his death; Diodorus (17.118.1‒2) and Curtius Rufus (10.10.14‒20) report it as a rumour that many believed, whereas Plutarch (Alex. 77.2‒5) and Arrian (Anab. 7.27.12) mention the poisoning (rumour?) only to reject it. In all these versions, the organiser of the murder is always Antipater and the executors are always his sons, with a particular focus on Cassander and Iolaus (Philip, as a matter of fact, is mentioned only by Justin). The other events regarding Antipater’s sons are directly connected, instead, to the history of Cassander, one of the protagonists of the last 20 years of the 4th century: as I have already tried to demonstrate (Landucci Gattinoni 2003, 70‒79), it was mostly Philip, Pleistarchus and Perilaus/Prepelaus who helped Cassander to consolidate his own position. Even in the most difficult times of the fight against Antigonus and Demetrius, when both Cassander and his brothers tasted defeat,14 mutual solidarity among the members of the Antipatrid clan still persisted: as far as we know, Cassander For this assumption, see also Heckel 2016, 34. For references, see Landucci Gattinoni 2003, 70‒79. 14 See, e.g., Pleistarchus’ defeat in Chalcis in 313 (Diod. 19.77‒78); Perilaus/Prepelaus’ defeat in Caria in the same period (Diod. 19.68.5‒7); Perilaus/Prepelaus’ defeat in Corinth in 303 (Diod. 20.103.3‒4); Pleistarchus’ shipwreck during his journey to Asia as he tried to support Lysimachus in 302 (Diod. 20.112.3‒4). 12 13

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never accused any of his brothers of being unable to help him and/or of treason, nor did any of them ever attempt to replace their older brother; rather, they all cooperated to maintain and reinforce the power of the family in Macedonia and in the surrounding territories.

Daughters Antipater’s daughters were already married when their brother Cassander was consolidating his power in Macedonia: their father had previously chosen their husbands with the aim of creating and/or consolidating strong relationships with some of the main representatives of the Macedonian establishment.15 Two of Antipater’s daughters, Phila and Nicaea, were given in marriage by their father shortly after Alexander’s death. The former, the eldest daughter, was given in marriage to Craterus, who had been loyally at her father’s side during the Lamian War;16 the latter was promised to the regent Perdiccas, who married her despite wishing to marry Cleopatra, Alexander’s sister,17 instead. Both daughters were widowed during the war against the regent Perdiccas, organised by a coalition led by Antipater himself, three years after Alexander’s death.18 Antipater gave them each another husband immediately after the congress of Triparadeisus, so as to sanction the new framework of alliances guaranteed by himself, the newly appointed regent of the kingdom. In particular, the marriage between Nicaea and Lysimachus formally sealed Antipater’s longstanding relationship of trust to Lysimachus and his family.19 The presence of Nicaea at Lysimachus’ side was so silent and discreet that she is never mentioned by the historiographical sources; we know details of their marriage only thanks to the incidental testimonies of Strabo and Stephanus of Byzantium,20 For references, see Landucci Gattinoni 2003, 58‒69, with full discussion of bibliography. For a recent analysis of the matrimonial “destiny” of Antipater’s daughters, see Aulbach 2015, 81‒90. 16 See Diod. 18.18.7, who, upon the announcement of the marriage between Craterus and Phila, highlights that the bride was the oldest of Antipater’s daughters. 17 See Diod. 18.23.3 (for a commentary on this passage, see Landucci Gattinoni 2008, 124‒126); Arr. BNJ 156 F 9.21 (for a commentary on this passage, see Simonetti Agostinetti 1993, 59‒60); see also Just. 13.6.5‒6, who, however, does not mention Nicaea’s name while only speaking of a daughter of Antipater. On Perdiccas’ wish to marry Cleopatra, see also Carney 2000, 123‒28. 18 On the dating of the war against Perdiccas, one of the key points of the long-lasting controversy about the chronology of the years between 323 and 311, see Landucci Gattinoni 2008, xxiv‒xlvi; Landucci Gattinoni 2011, 167‒78, with full discussion of bibliography. 19 On the relationship of trust between Lysimachus and Antipater, and later with his son Cassander, see most recently Landucci 2014a, 9‒11; 40‒42. On the significance of Lysimachus and Nicaea’s marriage as the seal of a long-standing alliance between Antipater and Lysimachus’ family, see Seibert 1967, 93, who only reports the conclusions by Beloch IV².2, 127; Cohen (1973, 354‒56) confirms that the wedding must have taken place after Triparadeisus and before Antipater’s death. 20 On the marriage between Nicaea and Lysimachus, see Strabo 12.4.7 (C 565) and Steph. Byz. s.v. Νίκαια, who, however, does not provide any chronological reference to the event. 15

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who merely state that the city of Nicaea in Bithynia, founded by Antigonus with the name of Antigoneia, was so renamed by Lysimachus in honor of his wife, Antipater’s daughter, after the collapse of Monophthalmus’ kingdom. Similarly, Phila’s marriage to Demetrius, Antigonus’ son, was certainly celebrated in the wake of the victory over Perdiccas and the agreements of Triparadeisus,21 and has interesting and noteworthy features. In primis, one must emphasise that the friendship between the houses of Antipater and Antigonus was short-lived, unlike the long lasting alliance of the Antipatrids with Lysimachus; in secundis, the historical figure of Phila is significantly less ethereal than Nicaea’s and we have a great deal of biographical information on her life.22 There are no serious reasons to doubt that Phila was a very intelligent woman, as Diodorus affirms:23 This woman seems to have been of exceptional sagacity … It is even said that her father Antipater, who is reputed to have been the wisest of the rulers of his own time, used to consult with Phila about the most important matters when she was still a young girl. (Diod. 19.59.3‒6)

It cannot be denied, however, that her fame as an ideal wife is directly proportional to the excesses and intemperance of her husband Demetrius,24 beside whom she remained, in spite of everything, until 287, when destroyed by the hardness of the fate that had deprived Poliorcetes of the kingdom of Macedonia, she committed suicide.25 As a whole, the history of Phila is marked by her double position as Antipater’s daughter and as Demetrius’ wife, overshadowing the relationship with her brother Cassander: after reporting Antipater’s death in fall 319, our sources do not mention Phila’s relationship with her birth family or with Cassander, the new clan chief, for a span of about 20 years.

The most complete reference to this marriage is in Plut. Demetr. 14.2‒4. Diodorus does not mention the marriage between Phila and Demetrius in the framework of the events immediately after Triparadeisus but later, when reporting about the burial of Craterus’ bones, when the rupture between Monophthalmus and the remaining Successors had already occurred; the historian highlights that Phila, after having been Craterus’ wife, was at that time Demetrius’ wife. 22 About Phila in general, see Wehrli 1964, 140‒46; Carney 2000, 165‒69; Landucci Gattinoni 2003, 59‒62, 66‒68; Aulbach 2015, 85‒89. 23 Diod. 19.59.3‒6: αὕτη δ’ ἡ γυνὴ συνέσει δοκεῖ διενηνοχέναι … λέγεται δὲ καὶ Ἀντίπατρον τὸν πατέρα αὐτῆς, ὃς δοκεῖ γεγονέναι φρονιμώτατος τῶν ἐν δυναστείαις γεγονότων κατὰ τὴν αὐτὴν ἡλικίαν, κόρης οὔσης ἔτι τῆς Φίλας συμβουλεύεσθαι πρὸς ταύτην περὶ τῶν μεγίστων. In my opinion, the source of this passage is Duris of Samos. On the relation between Duris and Diodorus, see Landucci Gattinoni 1997, 189‒204. 24 About Demetrius' biography, see now Wheatley-Dunn 2020. See also O’Sullivan 2008, 78‒99; Holton 2014, 370‒90; Landucci 2014b, 71‒84; Mari 2016, 157‒80. 25 On Phila’s death, see Plut. Demetr. 45, 1. 21

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In the historiographic tradition, Phila is described above all as the wisest of Antipater’s daughters and her father’s favorite. This is the reason why, in the description of Demetrius’ accession to the throne of Macedonia after Cassander’s death,26 Plutarch explicitly states that the Macedonians willingly welcomed Poliorcetes because he was Phila’s husband. They did indeed still cling to the memory of her father’s moderation: thanks to Phila, Antipater’s moral legacy could be built upon by Antigonus Gonatas, the son of Phila and Demetrius, who was presented by his father as his official heir.27 The source of this passage from Plutarch intends to emphasise the “rights” of Phila’s son, the young Antigonus Gonatas, over the kingdom of Macedonia, and, for this aim, it had to demonise those who had reigned there before him, i.e., Cassander and his sons. The text highlights indeed the hostility of the Macedonians towards both the late Cassander, deemed guilty of poisoning Alexander the Great, and the young Antipater, Cassander’s only surviving son, accused of his mother’s murder.28 On the contrary, I think that the positive hints at the moderation of the old Antipater must be read as praising the traditionally-Macedonian features of his personality. It was indeed this set of features, transmitted to his grandson, the young Antigonus Gonatas, that would allow the latter to be accepted on the throne even by the most traditional of the Macedonians who were extremely irritated by the excesses typical of Gonatas’ father, Demetrius.29 Given the pro-Gonatas tone, this source of Plutarch’s passage, which condemns Cassander and his sons while “saving” the traditional moderation of Antipater, Cassander’s father, has to be identified with Hieronymus of Cardia,30 who, being the official historian of Gonatas’ court, certainly acted as a spokesman of his sovereign. Sic stantibus rebus, we can say that Antigonus Gonatas wanted to present himself to his subjects, on the one hand, as the official heir of his paternal clan, and on the other as the savior of those features of “Macedonianness” typical of the men of On Demetrius’ conquest of the kingdom of Macedonia, see Landucci 2014a, 105‒111; Wheatley and Dunn 2020, 321–32. 27 See Plut. Demetr. 37, 4: εἰ δέ τις ἔτι μνήμη τῆς Ἀντιπάτρου τοῦ παλαιοῦ μετριότητος ὑπελείπετο, καὶ ταύτην Δημήτριος ἐκαρποῦτο, Φίλᾳ συνοικῶν καὶ τὸν ἐξ ἐκείνης υἱὸν ἔχων διάδοχον τῆς ἀρχῆς, ἤδη τότε μειράκιον ὄντα καὶ τῷ πατρὶ συστρατευόμενον (“And if there still remained any kindly memories of the elder Antipater’s moderateness and justice, of these also Demetrius reaped the benefit, since he was the husband of Phila, Antipater’s daughter, and had a son by her to be his successor in the realm, a son who was already quite a youth, and was serving in the army under his father”). 28 On these topics, see Landucci Gattinoni 2009, 261‒75. 29 On Antigonus Gonatas’ wish to distance himself from the theatricality of his father, see Virgilio 2003, 68‒69 (on Poliorcetes’ theatricality, besides the classical study of Mastrocinque 1979, 260‒76, also Rose 2018, 258‒87). 30 On Hieronymus’ partiality towards Antigonus Gonatas, see Paus. 1.9.8; 13.9; in this regard, see Landucci Gattinoni 2008, xii‒xxiv, with full discussion of bibliography; Landucci Gattinoni 2010, 97‒114. Contra, Simonetti Agostinetti 1997, 209‒26. On Hieronymus of Cardia’s life, see now POxy 71.4808, with the analysis of Landucci Gattinoni 2013, 87‒97. 26

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Philip II’s generation, features fully shared by his maternal grandfather Antipater and transmitted to him by his mother Phila.31 Compared to Phila’s historical and historiographical importance, the figure of Antipater’s third daughter, Eurydice, seems much less colorful at first glance. Her father gave her in marriage to Ptolemy, satrap of Egypt, probably after the congress of Triparadeisus32 while he was also organising the marriages of Nicaea and Phila with Lysimachus and Demetrius. The choice of Ptolemy as Eurydice’s husband was intended to reward his participation in the war against Perdiccas, and also to consolidate a friendship that would be very useful for the future of Cassander. As a matter of fact, the latter, after his father’s death, stood against Polyperchon, the new guardian of the kings, and turned to the satrap of Egypt recalling their friendly relationships and asking him to sign a formal military alliance.33 Shortly after her arrival in Egypt, however, Eurydice had to face a very difficult situation as her husband Ptolemy fell in love with Berenice, one of her “ladies-in-waiting,” who eventually succeeded in taking Eurydice’s place at the court of Alexandria.34 Pausanias is the main historiographical source on this issue, dealing with Ptolemy I and Ptolemy II in one of the many excursus on Hellenistic history in the first book of his Periegesis, and detailing the events connected to their marriages too:35 For a (too) short biography of Antigonus Gonatas, see Gabbert 1997; for a reflexion on the sovereign’s personality, see Cioccolo 1990, 135‒90; Landucci 2014c, 65‒86. 32 For information about the marriage of Ptolemy and Eurydice, see Paus. 1.6.8; App. Syr. 62; neither of the two historians provides precise chronological coordinates. We can however fix Antipater’s death as a terminus ante quem as these texts confirm his direct responsibility for the marriage; on this marriage (and on its hypothetical conclusion), see van Oppen de Ruiter 2015, 147‒73, with full discussion of historical and historiographical issues. 33 Diod. 18.49.3: (sc. ὁ Κάσανδρος) ἐξαπέστειλε δὲ καὶ πρὸς Πτολεμαῖον λάθρᾳ πρεσβευτάς, τήν τε φιλίαν ἀνανεούμενος καὶ παρακαλῶν συμμαχεῖν αὐτῷ καὶ ναυτικὴν δύναμιν πέμψαι τὴν ταχίστην ἐκ τῆς Φοινίκης ἐπὶ τὸν Ἑλλήσποντον (“Cassander also sent envoys in secret to Ptolemy, renewing their friendship and urging him to join the alliance and to send a fleet as soon as possible from Phoenicia to the Hellespont”). For a commentary on this passage, see Landucci Gattinoni 2008, 214‒18. In the same sense, see also Diod. 18.54.3: (sc. ὁ Κάσανδρος) διαπλεύσας δ’ εἰς τὴν Ἀσίαν πρὸς Ἀντίγονον ἠξίου βοηθεῖν αὐτῷ, φήσας καὶ Πτολεμαῖον ἐπηγγέλθαι συμμαχήσειν (“Sailing across into Asia to Antigonus he [Cassander] begged him to aid him, saying that Ptolemy also had promised to be an ally”). For a commentary on this passage, see Landucci Gattinoni 2008, 222‒23. 34 On the relations between Eurydice and Berenice and on the role of the latter, mother of Ptolemy II, the official successor of his father Ptolemy I, see Ogden 1999, 68‒73; van Oppen de Ruiter 2011, 83‒92; 2015, 147‒73; Aulbach 2015, 109‒111; Worthington 2016, 112–15. 35 Paus. 1.6.8‒7.1: Κυρήνης δὲ ἀποστάσης Μάγας Βερενίκης υἱὸς Πτολεμαίῳ τότε συνοικούσης ἔτει πέμπτῳ μετὰ τὴν ἀπόστασιν εἷλε Κυρήνην. – εἰ δὲ ὁ Πτολεμαῖος οὗτος ἀληθεῖ λόγῳ Φιλίππου τοῦ Ἀμύντου παῖς ἦν, ἴστω τὸ ἐπιμανὲς ἐς τὰς γυναῖκας κατὰ τὸν πατέρα κεκτημένος, ὃς Εὐρυδίκῃ τῇ Ἀντιπάτρου συνοικῶν ὄντων οἱ παίδων Βερενίκης ἐς ἔρωτα ἦλθεν, ἣν Ἀντίπατρος Εὐρυδίκῃ συνέπεμψεν ἐς Αἴγυπτον. ταύτης τῆς γυναικὸς ἐρασθεὶς παῖδας ἐξ αὐτῆς ἐποιήσατο, καὶ ὡς ἦν οἱ πλησίον ἡ τελευτή, Πτολεμαῖον ἀπέλιπεν Αἰγύπτου βασιλεύειν, ἀφ’ οὗ καὶ Ἀθηναίοις ἐστὶν ἡ φυλή, γεγονότα ἐκ Βερενίκης ἀλλ’ οὐκ ἐκ τῆς Ἀντιπάτρου θυγατρός. οὗτος ὁ Πτολεμαῖος Ἀρσινόης ἀδελφῆς ἀμφοτέρωθεν ἐρασθεὶς ἔγημεν αὐτήν, Μακεδόσιν οὐδαμῶς ποιῶν νομιζόμενα, Αἰγυ31

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Cyrene rebelled; but Magas, the son of Berenice (who was at this time married to Ptolemy) captured Cyrene in the fifth year of the rebellion. If this Ptolemy really was the son of Philip, son of Amyntas, he must have inherited from his father his passion for women, for, while wedded to Eurydice, the daughter of Antipater, although he had children by her, he took a fancy to Berenice, whom Antipater had sent to Egypt with Eurydice. He fell in love with this woman and had children by her, and when his end drew near he left the kingdom of Egypt to Ptolemy (from whom the Athenians name their tribe) being the son of Berenice and not of the daughter of Antipater. This Ptolemy fell in love with Arsinoe, his full sister, and married her, violating herein Macedonian custom, but following that of his Egyptian subjects. Secondly he put to death his brother Argaeus, who was, it is said, plotting against him; and he it was who brought down from Memphis the corpse of Alexander. He put to death another brother also, son of Eurydice, on discovering that he was creating disaffection among the Cyprians. Then Magas, the half-brother of Ptolemy, who had been entrusted with the governorship of Cyrene by his mother Berenice – she had born him to Philip, a Macedonian but of no note and of lowly origin – induced the people of Cyrene to revolt from Ptolemy and marched against Egypt (trans. W.H.S. Jones). (Paus. 1.6.8‒7.1)

Thus, according to Pausanias, when Berenice arrived in Egypt with Eurydice, she was the widow of another Macedonian, aliter ignotus, named Philip, and she had with her at least one son, Magas, born from her first marriage. Two scholia to Idyll 17 of Theocritus, the so-called Encomium of Ptolemy (II), full of exaggerated praise also towards the deified pair of his parents, the Theoi Soteres Ptolemy I and Berenice,36 inform us about the origins of the latter. In these two scholia we read that Berenice was the daughter of an unknown Magas and of Antigone, daughter of Cassander, Antipater’s brother: she was therefore Antipater’s great-niece, a poor cousin of Eurydice, sent to Egypt by her great-uncle so that she could have a secure future.37 Although Ptolemy I fell in love with Berenice shortly after her arrival in Alexandria (van Oppen de Ruiter 2011, 83‒92), Eurydice, Antipater’s daughter, suffered her final humiliation in 309/8: under this Attic year 309/8, the Marmor Parium (BNJ 239 F B19) emphasises the birth of Berenice’s son, the future Ptolemy II Philadelphus38, in Cos. Once mother of a son, i.e. of a possible heir of Ptolemy’s name and power, not only did Berenice strengthen her own position beside the dynast, but also endangered the πτίοις μέντοι ὧν ἦρχε. δεύτερα δὲ ἀδελφὸν ἀπέκτεινεν Ἀργαῖον ἐπιβουλεύοντα, ὡς λέγεται, καὶ τὸν Ἀλεξάνδρου νεκρὸν οὗτος ὁ καταγαγὼν ἦν ἐκ Μέμφιδος· ἀπέκτεινε δὲ καὶ ἄλλον ἀδελφὸν γεγονότα ἐξ Εὐρυδίκης, Κυπρίους ἀφιστάντα αἰσθόμενος. Μάγας δὲ ἀδελφὸς ὁμομήτριος Πτολεμαίου παρὰ Βερενίκης τῆς μητρὸς ἀξιωθεὶς ἐπιτροπεύειν Κυρήνην – ἐγεγόνει δὲ ἐκ Φιλίππου τῇ Βερενίκῃ Μακεδόνος μέν, ἄλλως δὲ ἀγνώστου καὶ ἑνὸς τοῦ δήμου –, τότε δὴ οὗτος ὁ Μάγας ἀποστήσας Πτολεμαίου Κυρηναίους ἤλαυνεν ἐπ’ Αἴγυπτον. On this Ptolemaic logos see Bearzot 1992, 265‒73, with bibliography. 36 On the divine couples of the Ptolemaic dynasty, see now Caneva 2016, 129‒78, with full discussion of bibliography. 37 Schol. Theocr.17.34: οἵα δ’ ἐν πινυταῖσι: Βερενίκην λέγει τὴν Μάγα μὲν θυγατέρα, γυναῖκα δὲ Πτολεμαίου τοῦ Σωτῆρος. αὕτη ἐν ταῖς σώφροσι γυναιξὶν εὔδηλος ἦν. On the name of Berenice’s father, see Ogden 1999, 68, with a clear analysis of the issue. Schol. Theocr.17.61: βεβαρυμένα: ἡ γὰρ Βερενίκη ἐστὶ θυγάτηρ Ἀντιγόνης τῆς Κασσάνδρου τοῦ Ἀντιπάτρου ἀδελφοῦ. 38 On Ptolemy II’s birth in Cos, see also Call. Hymn 4.160‒195; Theocr. 17.56‒76.

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destiny of Eurydice’s son, the future Ptolemy Ceraunus, who was later disinherited by his father in favor of Berenice’s son.39 It may be therefore recalled that Diodorus mentions a peace signed by Cassander and Ptolemy at the end of the 308 war season,40 which implies a previous war between them: although not mentioned by the sources, Eurydice’s humiliation in those same months can be assumed to have embittered, for the first time, the relationships between the two Successors. On the contrary, the peace signed in 308 reinforced a friendship destined to last for a decade, and could be read as a compromise that Cassander was compelled to accept in order to avoid the risk of a bonding, which would be very dangerous for him, between Ptolemy’s interests on the one hand, and those of Antigonus and Demetrius on the other. His sister Eurydice’s “sacrifice” aimed at preserving his alliance with Ptolemy was an adequate price to be paid on the eve of the great offensive of Poliorcetes, who quickly seized Athens, thus depriving Cassander of his main stronghold in mainland Greece. To complete the picture of the marriage vicissitudes of Antipater’s daughters we cannot forget that, according to tradition,41 Alexander of Lyncestis, who belonged to one of the main clans of the Macedonian aristocracy, was Antipater’s son-in-law. Therefore he was the husband of another daughter of the dynast, a daughter never explicitly mentioned by the tradition. Alexander of Lyncestis was suspected to be involved in the plot aimed at murdering Philip II but, unlike his brothers, he was not immediately eliminated by the new sovereign Alexander. According to modern scholars, his life was spared at that time, not only because he had been the first to acclaim the new king, but also because he was the son-in-law of the powerful Antipater. However, although nothing is known about the destiny of this daughter of Antipater, we cannot exclude that she was overwhelmed by the fate of her husband, Alexander the Lyncestian, who was executed by order of Alexander the Great in 329/28.42

Conclusions Regardless of the fate of the mysterious wife of Alexander of Lyncestis, the cases of Phila, Nicaea and Eurydice show that the women of the Antipatrid clan were employed as a practical instrument of ‘foreign’ policy by their father Antipater, who gave them in marriage to members of the Macedonian establishment living outside the motherland as a pledge of friendship. After their father’s death, however, they played an irrelevant role in continuing the political history of their family of birth, perhaps because then so many changes had occurred in the Macedonian world that the family ties created On the cohabitation between Eurydice and Berenice and on the evident polygamy of Ptolemy I, see now Carney 2013, 17‒30, with full discussion of bibliography. 40 On this peace, see Diod. 20.27.3. For a discussion of this issue, see Landucci Gattinoni 2003, 62‒64. 41 On the family relationship between Antipater and Alexander the Lyncestian, see Just. 11.7.1; 12.14.1; Curt. 7.1.6‒7. 42 On Alexander the Lyncestian’s life and death, see Heckel 2016, 22‒31, with sources and bibliography. 39

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through his sisters’ marriages were hardly of any practical help to Cassander, the new clan chief. According to tradition, the presence of the wise and influential Phila beside Poliorcetes did not indeed prevent the rise of strong enmity between the Antipatrids and the Antigonids, whereas the alliance between Ptolemy and Cassander, except for a brief interval, was not affected by Ptolemy’s estrangement from Eurydice. Finally, we can observe that the evanescent figure of Nicaea, a real ghost in Hellenistic historiography, exerted no particular influence on the solid understanding between Lysimachus and Cassander, which was rooted in the relationship of trust between Lysimachus himself and Antipater. In any case, as recently highlighted by Elizabeth Carney (2013, 17‒18), it is evident from the analysis of the marriages of Antipater’s daughters that the Successors “imitated Argead polygamy and had children by many women. In terms of the succession, the most important and successful of the Successors were more innovative than in their marriage practices … they determined the succession by choosing a son as co-king.”43 While Antipater’s death, which occurred shortly after the above-mentioned marriages, does not help to reveal whether the custom of polygamy was approved by the old Macedonian general, it is in any case certain that Antipater could not forecast the difficult family destiny that his daughters would have to endure due to the marriages that he had imposed upon them. Only Antigonus Gonatas, son of Phila and Demetrius Poliorcetes, did succeed in becoming king, a few years after his mother’s suicide: in this way, he put together two dynasties that for several years had been mutually hostile. In practical and legal terms, Antipater was the sole heir of the Antigonids and the Antipatrids; yet, as is common in patriarchal societies like the Macedonians, the name that eventually survived over time was that of the Antigonids and not of the Antipatrids. We can therefore say that already in the Epigoni’s time Antipater’s clan had no more official representatives and the name of the Antipatrids disappeared forever and ever.

Bibliography

Aulbach, A. (2015) Die Frauen der Diadochendynastien: eine prosopographische Studie zur weiblichen Entourage Alexanders des Grossen und seiner Nachfolger. Munich, Herbert Utz. Bearzot, C. (1992) Storia e storiografia ellenistica in Pausania il Periegeta. Venice, Cardo. Beloch, K.J. (1912‒27) Griechische Geschichte. Vols. 1‒4. 2nd ed. Berlin and Leipzig, De Gruyter. Brun, B. (2000) L’orateur Démade: essai d’histoire et d’historiographie. Bordeaux, Ausonius. Caneva, S.G. (2016) From Alexander to the Theoi Adelphoi. Foundation and Legitimation of a Dynasty. Leuven, Peeters. Carney, E.D. (1993) Foreign influence and the changing role of royal Macedonian women. Ancient Macedonia 5, 313‒23. 43

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Carney, E.D. (2000) Women and Monarchy in Macedonia. Norman, University of Oklahoma. Carney, E.D. (2013) Arsinoë of Egypt and Macedon: A Royal Life. Oxford and New York, Oxford University Press. Cocciolo, S. (1990) Enigmi dell’ ἦθος: Antigono II Gonata in Plutarco e altrove. Studi ellenistici 3, 135‒90. Cohen, G.M. (1973) The marriage of Lysimachus and Nicaea. Historia 22, 354‒56. Gabbert, J.J. (1997) Antigonus II Gonatas: A Political Biography. London and New York, Routledge. Grainger, J.D. (2019) Antipater’s Dynasty: Alexander the Great’s Regent and His Successors. Philadelphia, Pen & Sword. Heckel, W. (2006) Who’s Who in the Age of Alexander the Great. Malden, MA, Wiley-Blackwell. Heckel, W. (2016) Alexander’s Marshals. A Study of the Makedonian Aristocracy and the Politics of Military Leadership. 2nd ed. London and New York, Routledge. Holton, J.R. (2014) Demetrios Poliorketes, son of Poseidon and Aphrodite. Cosmic and memorial significance in the Athenian ithyphallic hymn. Mnemosyne 67, 370‒90. Kalliontzis, Y. (2017) Akraiphia et la guerre entre Demetrios Poliorcete et les Beotiens. Bulletin de Correspondance Hellénique 141, 669‒96. Landucci Gattinoni, F. (1997) Duride di Samo. Rome, L’Erma di Bretschneider. Landucci Gattinoni, F. (2003) L’arte del potere: vita e opere di Cassandro di Macedonia. Stuttgart, Steiner. Landucci Gattinoni, F. (2008) Diodoro Siculo. Biblioteca storica. Libro XVIII. Commento storico. Milan, Vita e Pensiero. Landucci Gattinoni, F. (2009) Cassander’s wife and heirs. In P. Wheatley and R. Hannah (eds) Alexander and His Successors: Essays from the Antipodes, 261‒75. Claremont, CA, Regina Books. Landucci Gattinoni, F. (2010) Il cortigiano. In G. Zecchini (ed.) Lo storico antico: mestieri e figure sociali, 97‒114. Bari, Edipuglia. Landucci Gattinoni, F. (2011) Diodoro e la cronologia dei Diadochi: una storia infinita. In M. Lombardo and C. Marangio (eds) Antiquitas. Scritti di storia antica in onore di Salvatore Alessandrì, 167‒78. Galatina, Università del Salento. Landucci Gattinoni, F. (2013) POxy LXXI 4808: Contenuto e problemi. Il dopo Alessandro. Rivista di Filologia ed Istruzione Classica 141, 87‒97. Landucci Gattinoni, F. (2014a) Il testamento di Alessandro. La Grecia dall’Impero ai Regni. Rome and Bari, Laterza. Landucci Gattinoni, F. (2014b) La divinizzazione del sovrano nella tradizione letteraria del primo ellenismo. In T. Gnoli and F. Muccioli (eds) Divinizzazione, culto del sovrano e apoteosi. Tra Antichità e Medioevo, 71‒84. Bologna, Bononia University Press. Landucci Gattinoni, F. (2014c) Dalla Biblioteca di Alessandria al Museo virtuale. Intellettuali e cultura alla corte di Antigono Gonata. In M. Berti and V. Costa (eds) Ritorno ad Alessandria. Storiografia antica e cultura bibliotecaria: tracce di una relazione perduta, 65‒86. Tivoli, Anno Edizione. Mari, M. (2016) A « lawless piety » in an age of transition: Demetrius the Besieger and the political use of Greek religion. In C. Bearzot and F. Landucci (eds) Alexander’s Legacy. Texts, Documents, Fortune, 157‒80. Rome, L’Erma di Bretschneider. Mastrocinque, A. (1979) Demetrio tragodoumenos. Athenaeum 67, 260‒276. Ogden, D. (1999) Polygamy, Prostitute and Death. London, Duckworth. O’Sullivan, L. (2008) Le Roi Soleil: Demetrius Poliorcetes and the Dawn of the Sun-King. Antichthon 42, 78‒99. Prandi, L. (2013) Diodoro Siculo. Biblioteca storica. Libro XVII. Commento storico. Milan, Vita e Pensiero. Rose, T. (2018) Demetrius Poliorcetes, Kairos, and the sacred and civil calendars of Athens. Historia 67, 258‒87. Seibert, J. (1967) Historische Beiträge zu den dynastischen Verbindungen in hellenistischer Zeit. Wiesbaden, Steiner.

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Chapter 7 Romance and Rivalry? Three Case Studies of Royal Mothers and Daughters in the Hellenistic Age

Sheila Ager Much has been written about the familial interactions of royalty in antiquity, though the tendency has been to focus on the figure of the king and his male heir: the fraught relationship between Philip II and his son Alexander has been a source of fascination since their own day. Alexander’s relationship with his mother Olympias has also been the subject of much attention. On the other hand, considerably less attention has been paid to Olympias’ relationship with her other child, her daughter Cleopatra. Royal Hellenistic mothers and daughters have yet to become a mainstream topic for scholarly consideration, in part at least because the ancient sources, with a few exceptions, showed a distinct lack of interest in the topic. Still, the few ancient sources we do have suggest that the mother-daughter relationship, royal or not, was generally seen as a loving and intimate one, and that ancient mothers cared about their daughters’ well-being and looked out for their interests. Although the evidence is slim, it does seem that royal Macedonian mothers, such as Olympias, Eurydice the daughter of Antipater, and Cynnane the daughter of Philip II, did their best to promote not only their daughters’ welfare, but their advancement. This paper, however, explores “exceptions that prove the rule”: against a background of royal mothers framing and protecting the lives and careers of their daughters, this paper examines a very small number of outlying mother-daughter pairs whose lives were mutually entangled in ambition, betrayal, sexual jealousy and political rivalry – or so our sources claim. Honoring Elizabeth Carney by presenting her with a paper on Hellenistic royal women is like carrying coals to Newcastle (if one can forgive the inelegant simile). Much of the research in this chapter is based on work that Beth herself has done. It is my hope that this small contribution will be of interest to her and to others who share our

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passion for understanding the lives and experiences of these women and the impact they had on the world around them.1 Much has been written about the familial interactions of royalty in antiquity, though the tendency has been to focus on the figure of the king and his male heir: the fraught relationship between Philip II and his son Alexander has been a source of fascination since their own day. Alexander’s relationship with his mother Olympias has also been the subject of much attention. On the other hand, considerably less attention has been paid to Olympias’ relationship with her other child, her daughter Cleopatra.2 “We have entire books about father-daughter, mother-son, and fatherson relationships in the fields of both classical history and classical literature, but lack almost any source material or scholarship on the ubiquitous female-female parent-child relationship.”3 Royal Hellenistic mothers and daughters thus have yet to become a mainstream topic for scholarly consideration, in part at least because the ancient sources, with a few exceptions, showed a distinct lack of interest in the topic. Greek myth, however, features several poignant tales of maternal love and mothers grieving over lost daughters, wherein the anguish over a daughter’s death is often likened to the bereavement caused by a daughter’s marriage. “I must give my daughter’s body its last bath before her burial, this wedding which is death. For she marries Hades, and I must bathe the bride and lay her out as she deserves.”4 The most renowned myth of a mother-daughter pair is that of Demeter and Persephone; a mother’s love for a daughter – not a son – was the inspiration for one of the most significant religious cults of the ancient world. While it is always dangerous to make assumptions where we have next to no evidence, we may conjecture that, unless we hear otherwise, most royal mothers and daughters experienced the same bond of affection as did non-royal women. Most of our evidence, such as it is, suggests that royal mothers tended to be protective of their daughters’ interests; of course, such interests may well have been aligned with the mother’s own status, security and influence. For instance, the early Hellenistic period saw a flurry of exogamous marriage alliances among Alexander’s Successors, and we should not assume that the royal brides’ mothers did not participate in any of the decision-making. We know for a fact that in the turbulent wake of Alexander’s death Olympias tried to secure a marriage for her widowed daughter Cleopatra with Perdiccas; at the same time, Philip’s daughter Cynnane more successfully arranged the marriage of her daughter Adea-Eurydice to Philip III Arrhidaeus, though the attempt I would also like to express my gratitude to my colleagues at the University of Exeter, Cardiff University, and at the 2019 Celtic Classics Conference in Coimbra for their input. All errors are obviously mine. 2 Carney 2006 discusses Olympias’ connection with both her children. 3 Strong 2012, 121; one exception is the chapter on mothers and daughters in Suzanne Dixon’s The Roman Mother (London, Croom Helm, 1988). 4 Hecuba mourning over Polyxena; Euripides’ Hecuba 611–14. 1

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cost her her own life. Eurydice, daughter of Antipater and the first Macedonian wife of Ptolemy I, may have been instrumental in arranging the marriage of her daughter Lysandra to Alexander, son of Eurydice’s brother Cassander. When it came time for her other daughter Ptolemaïs to be wed to Demetrius Poliorcetes, it was Eurydice who escorted the bride to Miletus. The presence of the mother and not the father at Ptolemaïs’ wedding may speak to the special bond between a royal mother and her female children.5 This paper explores some uncharacteristic examples of mother-daughter pairs in the Hellenistic historiography: specifically, examples wherein mother and daughter, rather than sharing a close and intimate bond, are instead rivals of one another. Such rivalry might be political, but it probably will come as no surprise that our chief source for mother-daughter rivalry among Hellenistic royals, which happens to be Justin, is equally interested in romantic competition – or, to speak more bluntly, sexual competition. As so often in the case of the historiography of royal women, the sexual and the political are intertwined. The record presents us with three mother-daughter pairs to examine, the only examples that I know of from the Hellenistic period where mother and daughter are presented as both political and sexual rivals of one another.6 We also have examples of mother-son rivalry and hostility – Cleopatra Thea and Antiochus VIII Grypus and Cleopatra III and Ptolemy IX are two of the most obvious pairs – but mother-son conflict is a different dynamic. The competition between mother and daughter – at least as presented in our sources – is more akin to that between co-wives in a polygynous situation, where opposing female claims to power, influence and status run through the same man. Justin is our main informant for all these stories, so we need to employ a critical lens, though I do hold to the view that Justin did not simply make things up. His work is of course an epitome of the history written in the Augustan age by Pompeius Trogus; Trogus in turn drew on Hellenistic historians such as Phylarchus, who shared the later writers’ interest in moralizing tales of melodrama. Justin did favor certain kinds of stories, and some stories do take on a life of their own (for which Justin cannot be blamed). I am persuaded, however, that all the tales dealt with here were already there in the Hellenistic historiography.7 Moving chronologically, our first example is Eurydice, the wife of Amyntas III and mother of Philip II; we are fortunate to have available to us now Beth Carney’s recently published monograph on this intriguing woman and the conflicting versions of her character and her actions (Carney 2019). Justin accuses Eurydice of both adultery and Diod. 18.23.1–3; Arrian FGrH 156 F 9 21, 22–24; Justin 13.6.4; Plut. Demetr. 31, 46; Paus. 1.9.6. See Carney 2000, 32. 6 Carney debunks the notion that Olympias and Cleopatra were ever political rivals (2006, 53, 164 n. 73). We have a few examples of sister-sister rivalry from Hellenistic history; probably the most infamous is that between Cleopatra Tryphaena and Cleopatra IV (here again the source is Justin and his account, as I have argued elsewhere, is highly suspect; Ager 2020). 7 See Mortensen 1992; Clayman 2014, 5; Howe 2018. 5

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murder: “Amyntas would have fallen victim to the treachery of his wife Eurydice (she had made a pact to marry her son-in-law, undertaking to kill her husband and hand the crown to her lover) had their daughter not divulged her mother’s liaison and criminal intentions.”8 Since Eurydice’s lover is her daughter Eurynoë’s husband, we might think of this alleged liaison as a betrayal of her daughter as well. Although the sexual mores of the period did not generally include expectations of marital fidelity from men, the scenario of a mother seducing a daughter’s husband was a particularly unpleasant one. We will return to that unpleasantness below. The second part of Justin’s little morality tale about Eurydice is frankly unbelievable, as has been most recently pointed out by Tim Howe and Beth Carney (Howe 2018; Carney 2019, 55). After Amyntas’ death, Eurydice is accused of murdering her eldest son, Alexander, and subsequently her middle son Perdiccas. In the midst of recounting her filicides, Justin remarks on the irony of the situation: Shortly afterwards, Alexander succumbed to the treachery of his mother Eurydice. Although Eurydice had been caught red-handed, Amyntas had nevertheless spared her life for the sake of the children they had in common, unaware that she would one day prove their undoing. Alexander’s brother, Perdiccas, likewise became the victim of a treacherous plot on her part. It was indeed a cruel blow that these children should have been murdered by their mother and sacrificed to her lust when it was consideration of these same children which had once rescued her from punishment for her crimes. The murder of Perdiccas seemed all the more scandalous in that the mother’s pity was not stirred even by the fact that he had an infant son. (7.5.4–8)

Diodorus’ account of these matters ascribes the murder of Alexander to one Ptolemy of Alorus, an individual whose relationship with the house of Amyntas is unclear.9 According to Diodorus, after killing Alexander, Ptolemy ruled Macedon for three years, until he was himself despatched by Amyntas’ second son Perdiccas. Diodorus says nothing of Eurydice in all this; a scholiastic note on a speech of Aeschines provides us with the only direct link between Ptolemy and Eurydice: “This Ptolemy was the one called Alorites, who killed Alexander son of Amyntas with the aid of Eurydice, Alexander’s mother. He married Eurydice and took on the guardianship of Perdiccas and Philip, who were children, and ruled for five years; he was killed as the result of a conspiracy by Perdiccas” (Σ Aeschines 2.29). Diodorus and the scholiast are united in their view that Perdiccas killed Ptolemy, rather than the other way around, and Diodorus’ account of Perdiccas’ brief reign and subsequent death in battle is to be preferred to the more colorful version presented by Justin. Nevertheless, Hellenistic history does in fact record other instances of royal sons perishing at the hands of their mothers, as well as numerous royal mothers 8 9

Justin 7.4.3; this and the following quotations are from the Yardley translation. Diodorus calls him a son of Amyntas, and presumably accepts that Ptolemy’s father was Amyntas III, since he says that in killing Alexander, Ptolemy was killing his brother (15.71.1; 16.2.4); if he was the son of Amyntas III, it was presumably not by Eurydice. See Carney 2019, 58–64, for a full discussion.

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perishing at the hands of their sons.10 It also records other instances of royal women committing adultery, though very few Hellenistic queens were accused of sexual impropriety. So murder and adultery are not in themselves the aspects of Justin’s story that prompt incredulity. What is literally incredible is the notion that an Argead king would forgive and re-instate an adulterous wife who was found guilty of plotting his own murder.11 Let us leave the Argeads for the moment, and move on to our second example, Apame of Cyrene, and her daughter Berenice.12 Apame, daughter of the Seleucid ruler Antiochus I, was married to Magas of Cyrene, the half-brother of Ptolemy II of Egypt. Magas and Ptolemy had been at loggerheads apparently since the death of Ptolemy I, but by the time of Magas’ death (perhaps around 250 BC), they had patched up the relationship – probably because Magas had no male heirs – and agreed that Magas’ daughter Berenice should marry Ptolemy II’s heir, Ptolemy III. Once Magas died, however, Berenice’s mother Apame tried to take things in a different direction: She sent a deputation to summon from Macedonia Demetrius,13 brother of King Antigonus [II], to marry the young woman and assume the throne of Cyrene, Demetrius himself being the son of a daughter of Ptolemy [I]. Demetrius wasted no time. The winds in his favour, he came swiftly to Cyrene; but from the start he behaved arrogantly through confidence in his good looks, with which his mother-in-law had already started to become infatuated. He was overbearing in his dealings with the royal family and the military; and he had also turned his attempts to ingratiate himself from the girl to her mother. (Justin 26.3.3–4)

It has been pointed out by scholars such as Dee Clayman, Branko van Oppen de Ruiter and Alex McAuley that Justin’s infatuation with the contrast between the sexual misbehavior of Apame and the virtuous courage of her daughter has completely blinded him to what really seems to have been going on here. Although Magas, while still living, had apparently sought to heal the breach between Cyrene and Ptolemaic Egypt, Apame, still a loyal Seleucid, was evidently intending to reconstruct an anti-Ptolemaic alignment uniting Antigonid and Seleucid interests.14 This in spite of the fact that Demetrius himself was of Ptolemaic descent: he was the child of the union of Demetrius Poliorcetes and Ptolemaïs. Van Oppen de Ruiter argues that Apame was moving against Ptolemy II by selecting Demetrius as “a scion of the rival collateral branch of the Lagid royal family” (2015b, 20). It seems likely, however, that it was Demetrius’ Cleopatra Thea and Seleucus V; Nysa of Cappadocia and her sons. Mothers allegedly murdered by sons: Amestris; Thessalonice; Berenice II; Cleopatra Thea; Cleopatra III; perhaps Laodice, mother of Mithridates VI. 11 See Mortensen 1992, 160; Howe 2018; Carney 2019, 55. 12 Justin calls Berenice’s mother Arsinoë, but that is certainly an error for Apame, the name used by Pausanias (1.7.3); she was no doubt named for her paternal grandmother. For discussion and references, see van Oppen de Ruiter 2015b, 11 and notes. 13 Demetrios ho Kalos, generally translated as “Demetrius the Fair”. Clayman comments that this epithet was actually an insult, suggesting that Demetrius was a male prostitute (2014, 37). 14 McAuley 2016; 2017, 191–94; see also Grainger 2010, 146–47; Clayman 2014, 36–37; van Oppen de Ruiter 2015b; Lorber 2018, vol. 1, 68. 10

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Antigonid and Seleucid connections that were more important; if Apame’s mother was Stratonice (daughter of Demetrius Poliorcetes), then she herself was half-Antigonid (not to mention the niece of her lover and son-in-law Demetrius the Fair). Demetrius’ chief attraction may actually have been that he was royalty with the ability to relocate (Apame clearly wished to remain in Cyrene with her daughter). So Justin has missed the point of the story here, and he also passes quickly over the animosity of the Cyrenean people and the army, which was instrumental in the plot to take down Demetrius (Grainger 2010, 147; McAuley 2016, 187). In morality tales such as this, Justin is generally more interested in individual psychological motivations and agency, rather than in corporate, strategic or political decision-making. So Justin’s Berenice leads the charge, though she does not appear to have sullied her own hands by wielding a weapon herself: He had also turned his attempts to ingratiate himself from the girl to her mother. This first made the girl suspicious, then it provoked the animosity of the people and the soldiers. Consequently, the support of the entire population veered towards the son of Ptolemy [Ptolemy III], and a plot was hatched against Demetrius. Assassins were dispatched to deal with him when he had come to the bed of his mother-in-law. Arsinoë [Apame], however, heard her daughter’s voice as the latter stood at the door giving orders for her mother to be spared, and for a little while she protected her lover by shielding him with her body. But killed he was, and Berenice, while satisfying her filial duty, at one stroke punished her mother’s scandalous conduct and also complied with her father’s judgment in her choice of a husband. (Justin 26.3.4–8)

Our final example is considerably messier, perhaps because it is the only one of the three stories that has more than a grain of truth in it. Justin is again our main source, but we do have some verification from other sources, not to mention the evidence of epigraphy. Ptolemy VI, who was married to his full sister Cleopatra II and had several children by her, including a daughter known to history as Cleopatra III, died in 145 BC. Cleopatra II thereupon married her other full brother, Ptolemy VIII, though probably only under protest and as a way of maintaining her own regal authority. In Egypt, King Ptolemy had died, and an embassy was sent to the Ptolemy who was king of Cyrene to offer him the throne, along with the hand of Queen Cleopatra, his own sister. This thought alone brought joy to Ptolemy: without a struggle he had gained his brother’s kingdom, for which he knew his brother’s son was being groomed both by his mother, Cleopatra, and by the leading citizens, whose support he enjoyed. Ptolemy turned on them all, and as soon as he entered Alexandria he ordered the boy’s supporters to be butchered. As for the boy himself, on the day of the wedding at which the king was taking his mother in marriage, Ptolemy killed him in his mother’s arms amidst the arrangements for the banquet and the rites of the marriage, and entered his sister’s bed still dripping with the gore of her son. After this he was no more gentle with his subjects, who had invited him to take the throne; his foreign troops were given authority to kill them, and blood flowed daily in every quarter. Ptolemy also divorced his sister, raping her virgin daughter [Cleopatra III] and then marrying her. (Justin 38.8.2–5)

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Both Justin and Livy (Per. 59) accuse Ptolemy of raping Cleopatra III. The horror of this brutal, adulterous and incestuous act is scarcely mitigated – perhaps it is even heightened – by the subsequent marriage to his niece. Justin’s sympathy for the young woman is soon spent, however, and his final words on Cleopatra III, who was murdered by her own son, condemn her for, among other things, the sexual rivalry with her mother: “She richly deserved her infamous death – she had driven her own mother from her marriage bed” (Justin 39.4.6). Many of our literary sources assume that the marriage with Cleopatra III necessarily entailed the divorce of her mother Cleopatra II. Ptolemy VIII, however, was certainly not able to do a wholesale swap, and simply replace Cleopatra II with her daughter. The royal formula that appears in epigraphy indicates that there were now two queens, and Cleopatra II consistently takes precedence over Cleopatra III: “King Ptolemy, Queen Cleopatra the Sister, and Queen Cleopatra the Wife”. We need not assume that Cleopatra II was divorced; Daniel Ogden refers to this assumption as a “monogamy fallacy” on the part of the ancient writers, and points out that the epigraphic terminology “need not necessarily imply that Cleopatra II ceased to be wife; by this point the term ‘sister’ may in itself have implied ‘wife’ also” (Ogden 1999, 89). Furthermore, I believe that incestuous Ptolemaic marriages were deeply symbolic, and divorce would have disrupted that symbolism. If we return now to the story of Eurynoë and the story of Berenice II, it is noteworthy that in both these stories it is the mother who misbehaves, and who attempts to interfere with the royal succession. It is also noteworthy that the male involved is treated negatively, generally as a usurper, by the sources.15 Meanwhile, the daughter acts to restore patrilineal dynastic rights and privileges and policies, particularly with respect to the principles of dynastic succession. The daughter thus acts appropriately; as Dee Clayman remarks, “In a perfect Greek world, a woman should honor her father’s wishes, like Berenice, and not try to meddle with her husband’s plans, like Apame.”16 Still, it would be naïve for us not to recognize that, in restoring her father’s policy, Berenice was also pursuing her own marital and political dynastic interests. The situation of Cleopatra II and Cleopatra III is less clear; it is difficult here to discern a similar pattern of “bad mother/good daughter”. For one thing, in this case, neither mother nor daughter is at all motivated by sexual lust; neither of them behaves with sexual impropriety, unlike Justin’s Eurydice and Arsinoë/Apame. For another, both mother and daughter are to an extent victimized by the completely irredeemable Ptolemy VIII. Nevertheless, if we pull back a little from the immediacy of the appalling narrative of Ptolemy’s crimes, we can make a couple of observations. One is that Ptolemy probably never wanted to marry his sister in the first place. It is likely that he would have been happy to bypass her, marry her daughter, and retire Cleopatra II from the monarchy altogether (Whitehorne 1994, 112–13). A marriage to his niece had in fact been offered by her father Ptolemy VI some years before, in 154 15 16

This is arguably also the case with Ptolemy VIII. Clayman 2014, 79; see the general arguments made by Clayman (2014, 78–104) and van Oppen de Ruiter’s criticisms (2015c, 25–26).

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BC.17 It was only the power and popularity of Cleopatra II – and evidently her own refusal to relinquish her position – that compelled Ptolemy to marry his sister. In some senses, then, one might argue that Cleopatra II was inserting herself forcefully into the dynastic succession at her daughter’s expense. Furthermore, it could also be argued that Cleopatra III’s subsequent marriage to her uncle was something that had been sanctioned by her father, the deceased king, just as Magas had sanctioned Berenice’s marriage to Ptolemy III.18 It was pointed out earlier that most of the scattered evidence we have for royal mothers and daughters suggests that their relationships were generally positive, and that mothers loved their daughters and looked out for their interests.19 The world of the Hellenistic dynasty was a perilous place for women (and men): at a rough count, we know of about 40 royal women who were murdered in this era. With all the challenges and at times dangers inherent in negotiating dynastic life, royal mothers in general probably tried to protect their daughters as best they could, and to teach them what they needed to know in order to survive and flourish. John Grainger argues that royal marriages were ineffective as tools of political alignment in any lasting way; although his chapter on these marriages contains several errors, some of his overall conclusions seem viable.20 But effective or not, girls were valuable tokens in the game of dynastic marriages, and they were almost inevitably married out.21 Princesses needed to learn how to navigate the ins and outs of a foreign court with no natal family members nearby; to cope with polygamy and the potential rivalries of amphimetric strife;22 and to survive the possible breakdown of political relations between their natal and marital families. Mothers who had experienced these challenges themselves were in a position to teach their daughters, if not always able to protect them. Particularly poignant in the mother-daughter emotional relationship, royal or otherwise, is the unavoidable separation brought about by the daughter’s marriage. A mother’s grief at this separation and the emotional loss it entailed, analogous as we have seen to losing a child to death, lies at the heart of the Demeter-Persephone myth. In the Homeric Hymn, the father (Zeus) is complicit in the rape/marriage, and the anguish of loss is experienced only by the mother: “A more terrible and brutal grief Plb. 39.7.6. See Whitehorne 1994, 103–104, 113; Ogden 1999, 88. It is not clear whether the daughter so offered was Cleopatra Thea or Cleopatra III (Bennett 2013 opts for the former). 18 As royal widows with children, Cleopatra II and Eurydice wife of Amyntas share some similarities. Both of them had underage sons at the time of their husband’s death, and both may have been trying to protect those sons, ironically by marrying the agent of a son’s murder. 19 See also Carney 2000, 32; 2006, 28. 20 Grainger 2017, 33–54. Perhaps the most egregious of those errors is the claim that Ptolemy VIII killed Cleopatra II before marrying Cleopatra III, thus erasing one of the most distinctive aspects of the reign of these three individuals (45). Cf. McAuley 2017, who explores some interesting strategic functions of royal marriages that did not equate to simple political alignments. 21 The chief exception were the Ptolemaic women who remained in Egypt to marry their brothers; additional sisters, however, were married out. 22 Ogden 1999, though polygamy declined after the Age of the Successors. 17

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seized the heart of Demeter, angry now at the son of Kronos with his dark clouds” (Hymn to Demeter 90–1; Foley translation). Hellenistic queens with daughters faced the certainty that such a separation would occur, and that the game of thrones as played by the kings made inevitable the employment of female children as instruments of political advantage, however short-lived the advantage (and the woman) might be. The fate of the multiple daughters and stepdaughters of Ptolemy I Soter provides an illustration of this fact: all of them were disposed of in political marriages that scattered them across the Mediterranean (Ager 2018). It is doubtful, once they were married, that Eurydice saw either of her daughters Lysandra and Ptolemaïs again. Little wonder that she delayed the painful parting for as long as she could by accompanying Ptolemaïs to her wedding. Justin’s tales of Apame and Eurydice, wife of Amyntas, feature very atypical royal mothers. As such, it is reasonable to approach these stories with scepticism, as we have done here. It is quite possible to understand the dynamics of the reigns of Amyntas III and his sons, as well as the situation in Cyrene after the death of Magas, without convicting either Eurydice or Apame of adulterous political intrigue. In Eurydice’s case, she may well have been compelled by strategic and security considerations to marry Ptolemy of Alorus, who was named as regent of Perdiccas III after the deaths of Amyntas and Alexander II (Mortensen 1992, 165–66; Carney 2019, 60–64). If Ptolemy had previously been married to Eurydice’s daughter Eurynoë (something that is very far from certain), that circumstance might have been enough to prompt rumors – or deliberate propaganda, as Tim Howe suggests – that Eurydice had previously had an affair with him (Howe 2018). “The murder/adultery saga that dominates Justin’s narrative, makes a partial appearance in the scholiast, and some version of which was known to the author of the Suda, could have been inspired by the actual existence of the marriage” (Carney 2019, 64). As for Apame, she clearly supported Demetrius politically, and in doing so was contravening what were apparently the last wishes of her late husband regarding the succession. This independence of action, one suspects, was enough to lend credence to the view that she was also sexually involved with Demetrius. We need not go as far as Dee Clayman in speculating that the story of Apame’s adultery was deliberately concocted by her daughter (and her daughter’s supporters, like the poet Callimachus), in order to mitigate Berenice’s own guilt for the murder (Clayman 2014, 38, and 78–104; cf. McAuley 2016, 187–88). Nor do we need to assume, with John Grainger, that the affair between Apame and Demetrius was extremely unlikely simply because Apame, in Grainger’s view, was at least 50 years old at the time, and therefore an exceptionally unsuitable candidate for a sexual affair (Grainger 2010, 147). Branko van Oppen de Ruiter suggests that the marriage between Magas and Apame took place in the context of the Chremonidean War, rather than prior to or during the First Syrian War, and that Apame may only have been born in the late 280s, making her in her early 30s at the time of Magas’ death (ca. 252/1 BC); McAuley thinks she was probably born in the late 290s, putting her in her late 30s at the time of Magas’ death, which

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McAuley places in the mid-250s (van Oppen de Ruiter 2015b; McAuley 2016, 177–78, 181). But speculation about Apame’s age is beside the point in the immediate context of this paper, given that the belief that women in their middle years are unsuitable candidates for a sexual affair has long been recognized as an outmoded view (Carney 1987, 424–25). I would like to suggest here a possible reason why these stories grabbed the ancient imagination and were so titillating and compelling that they took over the narrative. There is a peculiar unpleasantness, referenced above, in the story of Ptolemy of Alorus having a sexual affair with his wife’s mother; the same factor reappears in the tale of Apame, Berenice and Demetrius, and also in the ménage of Cleopatra II, Cleopatra III and Ptolemy VIII. All three of these relational triangles involve what the French anthropologist Françoise Héritier calls “incest of the second type” (Héritier-Augé 1994; Héritier 1999). Héritier’s argument is based on her own anthropological work in West Africa, as well as her research into the incest prohibition throughout history. Her argument is that any triangulated sexual relationship, whether contemporaneous or sequential, that involves one individual having sex with two other individuals who are close blood kin of each other creates an incestuous scenario that is particularly abhorrent. As Héritier puts it, “To conceive of incest of the second type one must think of the incest prohibition as a means of regulating the circulation of fluids [such as blood, milk, semen] between bodies. The fundamental criterion of incest is the contact between identical bodily fluids” (Héritier 1999, 11). Greek mythology offers up some unhappy examples of these relationships, discussed by Héritier, though the tragic outcomes in these stories are not necessarily linked directly to the putative incest. Theseus’ union with Phaedra, the sister of his former lover Ariadne, does not seem damnable until Phaedra takes a fancy to Theseus’ son Hippolytus, and the ugliness of the story of Tereus seems to lie less in his sexual contact with the two sisters Procne and Philomela than in the brutality with which he exercises it (Héritier-Augé 1994/5, 111). A more telling example of the disgust evoked by this kind of love triangle might be the insults hurled at his wealthy relative and rival Callias by the Athenian orator Andocides at this trial in 399 BC: Callias married a daughter of Ischomachus; but he had not been living with her a year before he made her mother his mistress. Was ever man so utterly without shame? He was the priest of the Mother and the Daughter; yet he lived with mother and daughter and kept them both in his house together. The thought of the Two Goddesses may not have awoken any shame or fear in Callias; but the daughter of Ischomachus thought death better than an existence where such things went on before her very eyes. She tried to hang herself: but was stopped in the act. Then, when she recovered, she ran away from home; the mother drove out the daughter. Finally Callias grew tired of the mother as well, and drove her out in her turn. She then said she was pregnant by him; but when she gave birth to a son, Callias denied that the child was his… Let us just see, gentlemen, whether anything of this kind has ever happened in Greece before. A man marries a wife, and then marries the mother as well as the daughter. The mother

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turns the daughter out. Then, while living with the mother, he wants to marry the daughter of Epilycus, so that the granddaughter can turn the grandmother out. Why, what ought his child to be called? Personally, I do not believe that there is anyone ingenious enough to find the right name for him. There are three women with whom his father will have lived: and he is the alleged son of one of them, the brother of another, and the uncle of the third. What ought a son like that to be called? Oedipus, Aegisthus, or what? (Andocides De mysteriis 124–5, 128–9; Loeb translation)

It may be that Athenian law did not expressly forbid Callias’ behavior, though of course we cannot rely on Andocides’ account as unencumbered truth.23 Biblical law, on the other hand, underscores an extreme abhorrence for incest of the second type: You shall not uncover the nakedness of a woman and of her daughter, and you shall not take her son’s daughter or her daughter’s daughter to uncover her nakedness; they are your near kinswomen; it is wickedness. (Leviticus 18: 17) If a man takes a wife and her mother also, it is wickedness; they shall be burned with fire, both he and they, that there may be no wickedness among you. (Leviticus 20: 14)

Héritier points out that many formulations of prohibited degrees of kinship throughout history have continued to exemplify this norm. An early modern table of prohibited marriages in England defines marriage to a wife’s mother or a wife’s sister or a wife’s daughter as a literal “abomination” (Clerke 1594). In the UK today, while a special act of Parliament in 1907 eventually legalized marriage between a man and his sister-inlaw,24 he still may not marry his mother-in-law (as Ptolemy of Alorus perhaps did) or his stepmother (as Antiochus I, Antiochus X and Ptolemy XI all did) or his aunt-in-law or his daughter-in-law, nor may he marry a host of other individuals who are no blood kin of his and are related to him only by affinity. Héritier’s work with cousins may suggest that a woman with multiple related male partners is less repugnant to contemplate than a man with multiple related female partners (1999, 46–47). The injunctions in Leviticus and the custom of levirate marriage may support this view.25 If so, this is in rather ironic contrast to the general norms in antiquity around the sexual double standard. It may also be the case that situations involving mother and daughter pairs are more objectionable than those involving sister pairs, perhaps because of the Oedipal overtones that they evoke: in addition to the suggestion of daughter-mother sexual contact, the man’s relationship with the daughter means that her mother is also his mother(-in-law). It is Héritier’s view that For one thing, Callias was not trying to marry the daughter of Epilycus (an epikleros) himself: being the girl’s grandfather he was forbidden to do so. He was instead trying to claim her for his son, the girl’s maternal uncle. 24 Deceased Wife’s Sister’s Marriage Act 1907. 25 See Ogden 1999 for ‘levirate’ marriage among Hellenistic royalty; the most extreme examples are Laodike IV, who may have married three brothers in succession (here incest of the second type may take a backseat to incest of the first type), and Cleopatra Selene, who married two brothers and the son of one of them (the inverse of the situation inspiring Héritier’s title). 23

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the intolerable (symbolic) contact of flesh and fluids defines the particularly horrific character of incest of the second type. But incest of the second type, like incest of the first type, also has the potential for disrupting familial structures and introducing intense rivalries into relationships.26 The connection between mother and daughter may be the single familial relationship that under normal circumstances can be the most intimate and free of tension (though it is important not to over-romanticize this observation or under-play the psychological need for women to separate themselves from their mothers).27 The contrast between this intimacy and the rupture caused by sexual rivalry adds an additional layer of drama to these stories. It is not my intention to argue that the incestuous angle, and the horrified fascination that it evokes, is the only thing that accounts for the instantiation of these tales in the first place.28 I do believe, however, that it may have provided a particularly repellent – and thus enthralling – hook for the Hellenistic and Roman historians who recounted them. “Justin liked lurid narratives generally and especially those about high-profile women and their supposed sexual and criminal exploits” (Carney 2019, 68). The more lurid the better, and this characteristic explains the continued interest in these narratives, and no doubt also the overall popularity of Justin’s account. As we have seen in the contemporary world, fake news has a seductive power that can trump more sober realities. Eurydice the adulterous betrayer of her children, both male and female, is a much more intriguing figure than Eurydice the protective mother. The very rarity of the stories we have been examining – and the suspect nature of two of them – suggests that political and/or sexual rivalry between mother and daughter (if it existed at all) was exceptional.29 I speculated above that we might see Cleopatra II’s marriage to Ptolemy VIII as an ambitious move at her daughter’s expense. But we might equally conjecture that Cleopatra II was trying to shield her daughter from a man who had long been an enemy. Cleopatra might have hoped that her young daughter could follow regular Ptolemaic practice and marry her own brother, an option that was cut short by his murder, allegedly on his mother’s wedding day.30 Although the idea has come under criticism, some anthropologists have put forward the view that the disruption of family unity is one of the drivers of the incest taboo; see Ager 2005, 16. 27 I am grateful to Professor Richard Seaford (Exeter) and to Beth Carney for emphasizing the intimacy of the mother-daughter relationship. 28 Cf. the title of the first chapter of Héritier’s monograph: “The Greek World, or Horrified Fascination”. 29 If we remove the sexual angle, we do have the notoriously bad relationship Cleopatra III had with her daughter Cleopatra IV; again, our source is Justin, who might have been drawing on his general disapprobation of Cleopatra III. 30 For the earlier hostility between the ruling pair Ptolemy VI and Cleopatra II, and their younger brother, see Plb. 31.10; Livy Per. 46–47. We have no idea how old Cleopatra II’s son was at the time of his death; Bennett conjectures that Cleopatra III was in her early to mid-teens in 145 BC and that her brother might have been as young as seven or eight (2013, sv “Cleopatra III” and “Ptolemy”). 26

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I would like to finish with this final observation: although Hellenistic queens fell victim to murder at a rather alarming rate, I know of no cases of a mother killing a daughter or a daughter killing a mother. This is so even in cases where an extremely high level of tense political and/or sexual rivalry is alleged: we are specifically told that Berenice ordered her mother Apame to be spared. There is no sign that Cleopatra II tried to hang onto a monopoly (duopoly) of power by having her daughter Cleopatra III murdered once Ptolemy VIII turned his interests to her. Cleopatra III herself does not seem to have made any attempt to do away with her (ambitious? rebellious?) daughter Cleopatra IV; she simply divorced her from the throne’s occupant, Ptolemy IX. Perhaps mother-daughter murder is one of the most unimaginably heinous of crimes, just as mother-daughter sexual rivalry is one of the most repellent forms of incest. Thus, while such scenarios are horrifically fascinating, and take on a life of their own, there is paradoxically at the same time a reluctance to contemplate their existence in the first place: Greek myth offers only one Oedipus, and he is surely enough. Even in the world of Game of Thrones – a true horror-show of ruthless ambition, incest, treachery and murder – there are no examples of mother-daughter murder or mother-daughter sexual/political rivalry.31 Cersei Lannister loves her daughter Myrcella fervently, and grieves for her death in a scene that evokes a rare pity for her from the audience. Her love and grief for her daughter is in fact Cersei’s only redeeming moment in a career of ambition, cruelty, lust and betrayal.

Bibliography

Ager, S.L. (2005) Familiarity breeds: incest and the Ptolemaic dynasty. Journal of Hellenic Studies 125, 1–34. Ager, S.L. (2018) Building a dynasty: the families of Ptolemy I Soter. In T. Howe (ed.) Ptolemy I Soter: A Self-Made Man, 36–59. Oxford and Philadelphia, Oxbow Books. Ager, S.L. (2020) Fama and Infamia: the tale of Grypos and Tryphaina. In R.A. Faber (ed.) Celebrity, Fame, and Infamy in the Hellenistic World, 18–36. Toronto, University of Toronto Press. Bennett, C. (2013) The Ptolemaic Dynasty. Cambridge, Tyndale House. http://www.instonebrewer. com/TyndaleSites/Egypt/ptolemies/ptolemies.htm (accessed 15 February 2020). Carney, E.D. (1987) The reappearance of royal sibling marriage in Ptolemaic Egypt. Parola del passato 42, 420–39. Carney, E.D. (2000) Women and Monarchy in Macedonia. Norman, OK, University of Oklahoma Press. Carney, E.D. (2006) Olympias, Mother of Alexander the Great. New York and London, Routledge. Carney, E.D. (2019) Eurydice and the Birth of Macedonian Power. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Clayman, D.L. (2014) Berenice II and the Golden Age of Egypt. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Clerke, W. (1594) The Triall of Bastardie. London, Adam Islip. Foley, H.P. (1994) The Homeric Hymn to Demeter. Translation, Commentary, and Interpretive Essays. Princeton, Princeton University Press. Grainger, J.D. (2010) The Syrian Wars. Leiden and Boston, Brill. 31

An astute fan will no doubt challenge this conclusion by pointing to Queen Selyse, who initially acquiesces in the sacrifice of her daughter Shireen, as if Clytemnestra had agreed with Agamemnon in the sacrifice of Iphigeneia; but the circumstances are different, and Selyse’s regret palpable.

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Grainger, J.D. (2017) Great Power Diplomacy in the Hellenistic World. London and New York, Routledge. Héritier, F. (1999) Two Sisters and their Mother. The Anthropology of Incest. New York, Zone Books. Héritier-Augé, F. (1994/5) L’inceste dans les textes de la Grèce classique et post-classique. Métis 9/10, 99–115. Howe, T. (2018) A founding mother? Eurydike I, Philip II, and Macedonian royal mythology. In T. Howe and F. Pownall (eds) Ancient Macedonians in Greek and Roman Sources: From History to Historiography, 1–28. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. Lorber, C.C. (2018) Coins of the Ptolemaic Empire, Part I: Ptolemy I through Ptolemy IV. 2 volumes. New York, American Numismatic Society. McAuley, A. (2016) Princess and tigress: Apama of Kyrene. In A. Coşkun and A. McAuley (eds) Seleukid Royal Women. Creation, Representation and Distortion of Hellenistic Queenship in the Seleukid Empire, 175–69. Stuttgart, Steiner. McAuley, A. (2017) Once a Seleucid, always a Seleucid: Seleucid princesses and their nuptial courts. In A. Erskine, L. Llewellyn-Jones and S. Wallace (eds) The Hellenistic Court. Monarchic Power and Elite Society from Alexander to Cleopatra, 189–212. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. Mortensen, K. (1992) Eurydice: demonic or devoted mother? Ancient History Bulletin 6.4, 156–71. Ogden, D. (1999) Polygamy, Prostitutes, and Death. The Hellenistic Dynasties. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. Strong, A.K. (2012) Working girls: mother-daughter bonds among ancient prostitutes. In L.H. Petersen and P. Salzman-Mitchell (eds) Mothering and Motherhood in Ancient Greece and Rome, 141–64. Austin, University of Texas Press. van Oppen de Ruiter, B. (2015a) Berenice II Euergetis: Essays in Early Hellenistic Queenship. New York, Palgrave Macmillan. van Oppen de Ruiter, B. (2015b) Magas, Apame, and Berenice II. In van Oppen de Ruiter 2015a, 7–22. van Oppen de Ruiter, B. (2015c) The marriage of Ptolemy III and Berenice II. In van Oppen de Ruiter 2015a, 23–40. Yardley, J.C. (trans.) (1994) Justin: Epitome of the Philippic History of Pompeius Trogus. Atlanta, Scholars Press.

Affection for Animals

Chapter 8 Alexander’s Pets: Animals and the Macedonian Court1

Elizabeth Baynham Animals fulfilled a variety of functions in the Ancient world. Wild species were hunted, while domesticated animals were used on farms, in warfare, and in religious rites, as well as providing companionship as pets. Certain animals were also associated with royal status, as well as with divinities. The evidence is rich, both in iconography and in our literary sources. Hunting was an important activity in Greco-Roman societies from the time of the Mycenaeans. In particular the Macedonian court, and the courts of the Diadochoi celebrated hunting. In recent years, scholarly investigation, including the work of this Festschrift’s honorand, Professor Carney, has focused on the role of the hunt, especially its importance as a rite de passage for aristocratic youth and as a reflection of masculinity, along with its links to kingship. This chapter will investigate not only the role of hunting dogs and their prey, but will also consider the importance of companionship, and the emotional and personal connections animals could offer their owners; for example, Arrian’s favourite hunting bitch, Horme, whom he commemorated in one of the most loving tributes to an animal in Western literature (Cy. 5. 1–6). Alexander the Great is also famous for his relationships with animals. He named cities after no other human being besides himself; yet according to some traditions, he chose city foundations to immortalize one of his dogs, Peritas (cf. Plut. Alex. 61.3) and one of the most well known horses in history; his beloved stallion, Bucephalas. Animals fulfilled a variety of functions in the ancient Greco-Roman culture. Wild species were hunted, while domesticated animals were used on farms, in warfare, in sport and entertainment (such as organized fights and hunts, or street theatre), as well as in 1

Elizabeth Carney’s groundbreaking work has inspired me for several decades with its range, penetrating insight, relaxed style, sense of humor – and humanity. I am honored to celebrate her contributions to scholarship – and raise a glass to her – nunc est bibendum!

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religious rites and magic.2 Domestic animals like dogs or geese also offered protection for flocks and households. Both wild and domestic animals could be companions or pets, and besides dogs and cats, our ancient sources mention a wide range of beasts including monkeys, fawns, chickens and cockerels, peacocks and other birds, hares, weasels and reptiles, particularly snakes.3 Hunting was an important activity in Greco-Roman societies from the time of the Mycenaeans. In particular the Argead Macedonian court, and the courts of the Diadochoi celebrated the chase.4 In recent years, scholarly investigation, including the work of this Festschrift’s honorand, Professor Elizabeth Carney, has focused on the role of the hunt, especially its importance as a rite de passage for aristocratic youth and as a reflection of masculinity, along with its links to kingship.5 My chapter will investigate the animals Alexander owned personally, considering not only their broader role within the context of Macedonian culture, but also the importance of their companionship, and the emotional and personal bond these animals offered their owner – as well as the potential for such a connection to touch a wider audience. As we shall see, two of Alexander’s “pets” enjoyed celebrity status in their own right. In the modern world, famous leaders have kept pets; Stalin and Churchill adored budgerigars,6 Adolf Hitler loved dogs,7 and the latter (the most popular among many animals) have been companions to most American Presidents.8 One of the best known, Fala, a Scottish terrier that belonged to Franklin Roosevelt during World War II, was frequently featured in the media, which enhanced the President’s public image.9 In Greco-Roman culture, dogs feature widely in both the literary and iconographical traditions, and there are certainly individual canines whose names and deeds are celebrated; we are reminded of Odysseus and his faithful hound, Argos, which according to Homer (Od. 17.290–327) lived long enough to recognize his master on his return; the dog belonging to Xanthippus (father of Pericles), which died after frantically trying to swim after his master’s trireme (Plut. Them. 10.6), and Arrian’s loving tribute to his hunting bitch Horme (Cyn. 5.1–6). See Toynbee 1973; Lonsdale 1979, 146–59; cf. Kostuch 2017, 69–87: Campbell (2014) offers a very useful, broad scope of animal-related topics. 3 On pets as companion animals in Greco-Roman culture, see Lazenby 1949, 245–52; 299–307; MacKinnon 2014b, 269–81. 4 The bibliography on hunting in the ancient world is considerable; in general, see Anderson 1985; Phillips and Willcock 1999; MacKinnon 2014a, 203–15. On hunting and the Argead court, see Palagia 2000, 167–206; cf. Seyer 2007, 93–123. 5 See Carney 2002, 59–80. 6 See Harris and Baker 2020, 4 and 235–37. 7 Blondi, a German Shepherd bitch was Hitler’s most famous dog; on the breed’s similarity to a wolf and hence its appeal to Nazi mythology, see Sax 2000, 77; on Hitler’s affection for Blondi, cf. Traudl Junge’s memoir of Hitler’s secretary: Junge 2011, 92–93. 8 See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_presidential_pets. 9 On Fala’s contribution to shaping Roosevelt’s appeal, see Goodwin 1995. 2

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In this respect, Alexander the Great is no exception. He was closely associated with three animals – two dogs, and a horse. For the Greeks and Romans, horses, while prized, and consistently represented in religion, literature and art, were not usually considered as “pets,” in the sense they did not normally co-habit with human beings. Caligula’s Incitatus, an animal which was reputedly given his own house and staff (Suet. Gaius 55.3), may perhaps be considered an exception, not withstanding the Emperor’s alleged plan to appoint him consul; however, the stallion is also recorded as a racehorse.10 In the world of Homer, speedy chariot horses, acting as a kind of equine taxi service, primarily supplied transport for the warriors to and from the battlefield. Achilles owned a pair of divine chariot horses, Xanthos and Balios, whom he reproaches – rather unjustly – for abandoning his best friend and comrade, Patroclus. Xanthos, conveniently given human speech by the goddess Hera, testily answers his master back, defending himself and his yoke mate, while confirming Achilles’ own impending doom (Il. 19.405–17). In one area horses offered not only companionship, but partnership. That area was warfare. Alexander’s business, if not his raison d’être, was war – and Bucephalas was his favorite warhorse. Just as warhorses were trained to face the danger and noise of battle by learning to trust their riders, so too, did their riders depend on the power, obedience – and sometimes outright aggression – of their horses. The Book of Job in the Old Testament (Job 39:20–22) contains an evocative celebration of the courage of warhorses, within the context of the Almighty highlighting the magnificence of His Creation. It is also true that the excitement and adrenalin generated by a massed engagement would add to a warhorse’s confidence; horses are naturally gregarious, and most will happily follow a group.11 In his account of the Ionian Revolt, Herodotus (5.111–12) mentions an unnamed horse owned by a Persian commander, Artybius, which was trained to rear, bite and strike its rider’s opponents; its front feet were cut off in combat by the bodyguard of the Greek commander Onesilus, who instructed his retainer to target and destroy the horse. As Xenophon comments (Hipp. 3), a disobedient horse in an armed engagement was not only useless, but treacherous; however, the horse’s trust in its rider could often lead to its own death. In Greek mythology, the winged horse Pegasus was Bellerophon’s partner in his bid to slay the Chimaera. In Greco-Roman history, Bucephalas is the earliest, named horse that we hear of in connection with a famous general. In 326 BC Alexander founded the twin cities of Alexandria Nicaea and Alexandria Bucephala on the banks of the Hydaspes (Jhelum). The exact location of either city is unknown, but their historicity is firm.12 That Alexander should have celebrated his Cf. Dio 59.14.7; see Lindsay (1993, 162) on the traditions and their authenticity. Cf. Hyland 2003, 42 and 63–65; cf. Willekes 2013, 10; on training warhorses, 295–300. 12 Arr. Anab. 5.19.4; Plut. Alex. 61.1; Curt. 9.3.23; cf. 9.1.6; Diod. 17.89.4; 95.5; Just. 12.8.8.; Metz Epit. 62. See Bosworth 1995, 312; Fraser 1996, 161; Ogden in this volume, n. 18–19. 10 11

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victory over the Pauravan king Porus by a city foundation called after Victory is not surprising; what is remarkable is that he named the other after his horse, Bucephalas. The animal had recently died – either from wounds sustained in the battle against Porus – or from old age and exhaustion. Alexandria Bucephala was established as a city, and it seems to have survived until the early Roman period, and as an urban centre of some importance.13 Moreover the foundation of the city is noted by all of the mainstream Alexander historians, while Bucephalas himself is mentioned more often than Bagoas, Alexander’s Persian lover.14 There is also a tradition that Alexander named another city after his dog, Peritas15 (Plut. Alex. 61.2), although the authenticity of this foundation is neither as credible as Bucephala, nor as well attested. But Plutarch links both foundations together as the result of Alexander’s great love for his horse and his dog, and his bereavement over their loss. Pollux (Onom. 5.42) also refers to another of Alexander’s dogs, Triakes, who is even more obscure – we have little else apart from the name.16 Plutarch’s source for Alexandria Perita is Potamon of Mitylene via Sotion (BNJ 147 F 1). Potamon, a rhetor at Rome during the reign of Tiberius is credited with a history of Alexander (BNJ147 T 1), of which only a few fragments survive. For Plutarch, the literary neatness of Alexander calling two cities after his own animals was too good to miss. All of Alexander’s so-called city foundations were named Alexandria, although most were also given “nicknames,” usually in relation to location.17 At least one city commemorated an unexpected event; the king named (or renamed) Phrada in Drangiana, Prophthasia (“Anticipation”) as a result of this survival of the so-called Philotas conspiracy.18 Hephaestion, the man who was closest to Alexander, is also associated with the reorganization and possible foundation of several settlements, although these seem to have been closer to phrouria – fortesses, or moveable garrisons – rather than poleis. We also have no evidence of any of these places being called after Hephaestion.19 There is some evidence (cf. Plin. NH 8.154) that a heröon to Bucephalas as the oikistes was constructed, which sometimes happened for an eponymous city founder. Whether Alexander decreed a heroic cult for Bucephalas as he requested for Hephaestion in

Bosworth 1995, 311–12; Fraser 1996, 161–62; cf. Tarn 1948, 236–37. For the traditions on Bagoas, see Baynham and Ryan 2018. 15 F. Mentz in his comprehensive study of the names of dogs (cf. Philologus [1933] 199), suggests Peritas was called after the Macedonian month, February, Peritios; see Hamilton 1999, 170. 16 Hamilton 1999, 170; cf. Bosworth 1995, 315. 17 Tarn 1948, 233; Fraser’s 1996 study casts doubt on the number of foundations that were credited to Alexander. 18 Steph. Byz. s.v. φρáδα; Plut. Mor. 328 f; cf. Bosworth 1988, 104 with n. 240. 19 On Hephaestion’s important role in city settlement and reorganization in Sogdiana, cf. Arr. Anab. 4.16.3; Curt. 7.10.15; Holt 1988, 62; Bosworth 1995, 113–14. 13 14

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Egypt is more difficult to determine.20 However Greenwalt has made an interesting case that Bucephalas may have received heroic honors outside of Bucephala.21 There is a parallel elsewhere for horses becoming figures of worship; in Meso America in 1524 Hernan Cortés left his injured warhorse, El Morzillo, behind at the island city of Tayasal with the Mayan Itzá people. The natives carved a statue of the horse after its death as an offering to Cortés on his return; they also appeared to have worshipped it as a god, until both the statue and the cult of the god horse were destroyed over a century later by Franciscan monks.22 Animals feature in the names of places like Aegospotami (“Goat River”) or Bosphoros (“Passage of the Cow”) and they appear in men’s names like Philippos or Leonidas. Animals are certainly associated with having led founders of cities to sites, or even contesting human settlers over a particular site.23 For example, a herd of goats running through the rain supposedly led the legendary Macedonian king Caranus to seize the city of Edessa, which he re-founded as Aegae (“Goat Place”). Moreover the foundation of the most famous of Alexander’s Alexandrias – Alexandria in Egypt – is associated with flocks of birds swooping down to eat the barley that was being used to mark out its boundaries.24 However the cities of Bucephala (and less likely, Perita) appear to have been unique in being named after individual animals that were associated with a human being, even if the beasts were seen as an extension of Alexander, or, as Greenwalt has argued, as part of Alexander’s heroization.25 Both Bucephalas and Peritas were expensive animals to buy. Bucephalas allegedly cost 13 talents26 – about 78,000 drachmas – while Peritas, described as a hunting dog, cost 100 minae (Pollux Onom. 5.46 = Theopompus of Chios BNJ 115 F 340). By way of comparison the flamboyant Athenian general, Alcibiades – notorious for his extravagance and luxurious lifestyle – owned a dog which was supposedly worth 70 minas (Plut. Alc. 9). Spence has suggested that while 1,200 drachmas for a cavalry horse in the Hellenistic period was considered expensive, it was not uncommon.27 Given the degree of training required for a warhorse, as well as an animal’s breeding potential, Farnell 1921, 361; Greenwalt 2016, 31–36. Arr. Anab. 6. 23. 6–7; Plut. Alex. 72. 2. On Hephaestion’s cult in Alexandria, see Hamilton 1999, 200–201; cf. Fraser 1972, 216, n. 217. On Bucephalas’ heroic status beyond Bucephala, see Greenwalt 2016, 36–39. 22 Díaz del Castillo 1916, Bk 14.138, 34–35 with Maudslay’s n. 1. 23 Kostuch 2017, 78. 24 Aegae, cf. Just. 7.1.7–11. On the association of birds with the foundation of Alexandria, cf. Plut. Alex. 26.5–6; Curt. 4.8.6; Hamilton 1999, 68. 25 Greenwalt 2016, 35–41. Interestingly, in modern times, some towns have been called after horses; according to Wikipedia, Tarcoola, South Australia, and Marvel Loch, Western Australia; so too, Beeswing in Scotland, and Cronach in Saskatchewan, Canada. 26 Cf. Gellius NA. 5. 2. 2; there is a variant figure of 16 talents in Pliny (NH. 8.153), which Hamilton (1999, 15) claims is an MS error. 27 See Spence 1993, 275; cf. Anderson 1961, 136; Hamilton 1999, 15. 20 21

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we can expect substantial prices, but horses which were bred and trained for sport were also costly. In Aristophanes’ Clouds, debt ridden Strepsiades bemoans his son’s champagne tastes in his passion for chariot racing and sporting horses.28 Alcibiades was also famous for his horses, which he bred himself (Plut. Alc. 11.1), dominating chariot racing to the extent of entering seven teams at the Olympic Games. Such ostentatious display – at least according to Thucydides (6.15) led many Athenians to suspect him of aiming at tyranny. Although it is always difficult to calculate modern equivalents in today’s money, sums in the millions are paid for champion racehorses especially as stud prospects,29 while in 2010, the KWPN (Dutch Warmblood) stallion, Moorlands Totilas (“Toto”) widely considered the best Grand Prix dressage horse in the world at that time, was sold to Olympian equestrian medallist and wealthy businessman, Paul Schockemöhle, for an undisclosed figure, but thought to have been over $13 million.30 Totilas was 10 years old; Bucephalas (as we shall see) was probably around the same age – both horses in their prime, both highly trained, and barring injury or mishap, both with years of performance ahead. In the Western world, with most countries enjoying unprecedented wealth since World War II, the popularity of companion animals (and the consumerism that accompanies them) has never been higher. As a general rule, Greeks and Romans probably lived more closely with animals on a daily basis than most city Westerners do today (at least those without pets). For example, stray dogs were common in ancient Rome, and the Roman urban poor would encounter animals in markets or on the streets,31 while the majority of the Greek and Roman male elite would have been taught to ride as part of their education, as well as military training. One curious, if minor, detail may offer some insight into just how closely ancient sources may have appreciated the anatomy of animals’ bodies, and their awareness of aspects that are perhaps lost on most of us now, outside of veterinarians and other animal specialists. In Plutarch’s Life of Pelopidas (21–22) a chestnut filly was allegedly sacrificed prior to the battle of Leuctra (371 BC) in order to appease the Leuctridae, or spirits of young women who had been raped some time previously by the Spartans. According to the story, the Theban commander, Pelopidas was advised by his diviners and fellow generals that he needed to sacrifice a “red-haired virgin.” Reluctant to offer a human sacrifice Pelopidas was in a quandary as to what he should do, when a filly broke away from her herd and came up to the Thebans, no doubt seeking attention as a young horse will, especially if its previous experience of humans has Arist. Clouds 21–3; 1224–5; on chariot racing cf. Bell and Willekes 2014, 478–88. Fusaichi Pegasus, winner of the 2000 Kentucky Derby was allegedly sold to Coolmore stud as a stallion for over $US60 million; cf. The Los Angeles Times: https://www.latimes.com/archives/ la-xpm-2000-jun-28-sp-45555-story.html. 30 On Totilas, see: http://dressage-news.com/2010/10/14/totilas-sold-to-paul-schockemohle-ofgermany/. 31 Scobie 1986, 418–21; Cicero (Rep. 1.43) cites domestic animals allowed to roam at will in an urban environment as an extreme and irresponsible example of unregulated liberty. 28 29

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been positive (cf. Xen. Hipp. 2). Pelopidas’ seer, Theocritus, realized that the animal was an appropriate virgin sacrifice and a gift from the gods, and advised his leader that the filly should be offered immediately. Even if the story is apocryphal – and certainly substituting animals for humans occurs in Greek mythology – its implication is revealing. Plutarch does not state how Theocritus knew that the horse was “virgin”; her youth was obviously a factor, but there is something else. Maiden mares, like ewes and virgin women, have hymens.32 The Macedonian court certainly had companion animals. Alexander’s mother Olympias was known to keep snakes (Plut. Alex. 2.6) both as pets and for ritual or magical purposes, and her association with serpents probably contributed to the tradition that Alexander himself had a divine father who had intercourse with Olympias in serpent form.33 Snakes would also have helped in rodent control. Hunting dogs feature in Macedonian iconography, especially in mosaics, in tomb painting and sculpture. Unlike Athenian iconography, which commonly features dogs in their owners’ houses, as well as on funeral stelai and vases, their artistic presence in a Macedonian domestic setting is harder to find. The striking banquet paintings from the Agios Athanasios tomb show garlanded revelers arriving on horses, but evidently without their dogs.34 Nevertheless, dogs would have been a ubiquitous presence at the Macedonian court. Arrian was obviously fond of his own dogs, and as part of his advice for training good hunters, he recommended that the best place for a hound to sleep is with man (Cyn. 9): “for in that way they grow fond of human beings.” Elsewhere, dog names are quite richly attested, including Xenophon’s famous list in the Cynegticus (7.5), and likewise there is ample evidence for loving epitaphs and funerary monuments to dogs.35 It is also evident that what may be considered “cruelty” to animals today (namely starvation, neglect and physical abuse, including bestiality) was endemic throughout the ancient world, but we need to remember that animals, particularly livestock, were considered as commodities to be used, and like slaves, were property. Animal neglect may have often been due to owner’s poverty – as Apuleius (Met. 9.31–32) demonstrates – rather than intentional, but overall there appears to have been little concern for animal welfare. There are some exceptions; for example Cicero (Fam. 7.1) expresses sadness at the sight of magnificent animals killed in the arena, while within the context of elaborating the intelligence and sensitivity of elephants, Pliny (NH 8.21) claims that during Pompey’s games a group of elephants succeeded in winning over

Georgiadou 2011, 171–72; I am grateful to equine veterinarian, Dr Rebecca Forsythe of Hunter Equine Vet, Newcastle, NSW, for information on hymens in ungulates, common sacrificial victims in ancient Greek society. 33 On Olympias and her snakes, see Carney 2006; on the tradition that Alexander was fathered by a snake, see the extensive analysis by Ogden 2009 and his 2011 monograph. 34 Tsibidou-Avloniti 2002, 94–96. 35 Diggle 2005, 410–11. 32

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the crowd’s sympathy. However, usually the focus and concerns of both the organisers and the spectators were elsewhere. The information about Alexander’s dog, Peritas, is sparse and unclear. We are not certain what breed of dog he was (if any at all).36 Plutarch (Alex. 61.1) claims that Alexander raised him from a puppy without further detail about his origins. According to Pliny (NH 8.149) Alexander was sent an extremely large dog by the “king of Albania,” most likely his uncle, Alexander of Epirus. Alexander was delighted and immediately challenged it with bears and boars, which although dangerous, were not uncommon quarry for either the Macedonian or the Roman elite (cf. Plin. Ep. 1.1). The dog refused to move, even to chase deer, and Alexander ordered it destroyed. When the Epirote king heard this report, he sent his nephew another dog of the same type, with instructions to offer it larger prey, like a lion or an elephant, but also with the caveat that if Alexander destroyed this animal, he would be wiping out the entire breed. Given that the Macedonian king had already killed one dog of a sole pair, unless the second were a pregnant bitch the breed was already doomed. The dog not only succeeded in crushing a lion, but also brought down an elephant through a strategy of worrying the massive beast at vulnerable points until it whirled around so fast that it fell over. Aelian (NA 8.1) offers a variation of this story within the context of discussing a vicious Indian hybrid dog that was a cross between a bitch and a tiger. In Aelian’s version, the dog scorns all prey until it is set upon a lion. Peritas is not named as the dog that was given to Alexander in either of these stories. However the strongest connection between Peritas and India comes from a contemporary writer, Theopompus of Chios (Pollux Onom. 5.42 = BNJ 115 F 340). Theopompus also associated Peritas with lion fighting, celebrating him along with another famous dog from Epirus called Cerberus. Strabo (15.1.31 [C 700]), Diodorus (17.92), Curtius (9.1.31–3), the Metz Epitome (66–7) and Aelian (NA 8.1) preserve a tradition about a breed of Indian dogs that was trained to fight lions – and whose bite was allegedly so tenacious that an individual dog would not let go, despite being dismembered alive. Curtius (9.1.34) expresses a Herodotean skepticism;37 however, if this story contains only a modicum of truth (and certainly lion baiting by dogs is attested elsewhere in other eras),38 it is nevertheless confronting in its sadism – even for Roman culture, which saw staged hunts, animal fights with condemned criminals, and bizarre charades (such as tying a woman to a bull in a re-enactment of the Pasiphae myth) in an amphitheater as public spectacle and entertainment.39 On ancient Greek dog breeds, see Phillips and Willcock 1999, 12–18. Cf. Atkinson 2000, 530. 38 See Homan 1999, 54–62. 39 Coleman 1990, 51–54; on Roman attitudes to the ludi, see Parkin and Pomeroy 2007, 328–52; Shelton 2014, 461–75. 36 37

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In fact, Strabo describes the Indian fighting dogs’ qualities as their arête (excellence). He claims that Alexander received 150 of these dogs from the Indian king Sopeithes, most likely a vassal of Porus, who had surrendered to Alexander.40 When Sopeithes’ attendants first commenced the grisly demonstration of the animal’s strength, Alexander initially intervened on the dog’s behalf, but then consented when the Indian ruler promised four more dogs. Alexander’s bond with Bucephalas is much more strongly attested in our sources. Within this volume, Daniel Ogden offers a superb investigation of the several story arcs that are associated with the king and his horse in both the extant ancient historical accounts and the Alexander Romance, including its Persian derivatives. However, the common theme that links all of these narratives is the relationship between the man and the animal. There are several stories that illustrate their mutual affinity; according to Curtius (6.5.18–19) Bucephalas would only ever allow Alexander to ride him, and he would lower his body so that the king could mount him more easily.41 Diodorus (17.76.6) adds the more plausible qualification that the horse would only allow Alexander on his back as soon as he wore royal trappings; otherwise his groom could ride him. We need not dismiss all these stories as embroidery; a horse can be taught to “bow” easily enough; through habituation they learn to associate certain tack with particular activities, and in general horses have an excellent memory, which allows not only trainability, but the capacity for anticipation. As Willekes notes, horses also have remarkably expressive faces;42 they can communicate simple, but clear feelings through their highly mobile ears, eyes and body language. Although we do not know how attuned Alexander was personally to “reading” his equine partner, he was certainly observant enough at his first encounter with the stallion (Plut. Alex. 6.3; see further below), to realize that he was shying at his own shadow. When Bucephalas was stolen, either by the Mardians or the Uxii, depending on the version, Alexander threatened to burn the province unless the horse was returned.43 Suffice to say that leaving the matter of insult aside, we need not doubt that Alexander’s anger was genuine, as well as concern for his horse and its potential abuse by its captors, especially if they did not know they had seized the king’s stallion. If their ambush was just a general raid of livestock as opposed to a specific target intended for ransom, then Bucephalas, who was probably into his 20s at that time, may have merely appeared as a tired old nag to them, and very likely expendable. So Heckel 2006, 252–53. Cf. Gell. NA 5.2.1–5 = Chares of Mytilene BNJ 125 F 18. 42 Willekes 2013, 149–53. 43 On the theft of Bucephalas, Curt. 6.5.18–21; Diod. 17.76.5 (Mardi); Arr. Anab. 5.19.6 (Uxii); Plutarch (Alex. 44.2–3) does not specify the name of the people, but locates the episode in Hyrcania, the territory of the Mardi. In Diodorus and Curtius Alexander puts his threat into action before the horse is returned; in Arrian and Plutarch he does not need to proceed; also in the vulgate texts, Alexander accepts gifts and hostages from the natives, but in Plutarch he rewards them; cf. Hamilton 1999, 120; Ogden in this volume. 40 41

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This raises the question of why Alexander continued to ride his ageing charger into battle; Plutarch testifies (Alex. 32.7) that although by the time of Gaugamela (331 BC) Alexander was already using younger mounts for routine military riding like reviewing troops, he saved Bucephalas for the actual engagements. Such a statement suggests a partnership between man and stallion to the extent that in a life-threatening situation, the king was prepared to trade the greater speed and stamina of a younger horse for the experience, reliability and bravery of his older, but trusted, warhorse. However, high casualty figures for horses occurred elsewhere in Alexander’s conquests; apart from those killed or maimed in actual battle, horses would have suffered the privations of limited food, water or shelter in harsh conditions, sores and galls caused by badly fitting harness, poor or unreliable veterinary care and lameness.44 Forced high-speed marches such as Alexander’s pursuit of Darius, especially resulted in the loss of horses.45 There are some alternative versions on how Alexander acquired Bucephalas, which claim that the horse was a gift – either he was bought by Demaratus of Corinth (Diod. 17.76.6) who presented Bucephalas to Alexander directly, or that he was given to Philip II (Gell. NA 5.2.2), who then passed the animal over to his son. However, Plutarch’s story (Alex. 6) of the Thessalian horse dealer, Philoneicus, and his offer of sale of Bucephalas to Philip is by far the best known. The story of the first meeting between Bucephalas and a young Alexander is laced with fantasy, especially Philip’s prophetic exclamation at the end of the tale that Alexander needed to find a larger kingdom (Alex. 6.5). The story is also colored by the evident rivalry between father and son,46 as well as Alexander’s desire to demonstrate his own insight and horsemanship, which of course would be needed for both hunting and warfare. Moreover the pleasing trope of a child befriending a protective, loving and often powerful being, usually an animal, has a long duration in modern children’s literature; for example, we may be reminded of classic novels like Lassie or National Velvet. Sometimes the animal has magical or divine qualities as in C.S. Lewis’ lion, Aslan, of the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. One pertinent example of modern reception of the Alexander/Bucephalas story is Walter Farley’s novel (1941), The Black Stallion. Although Farley’s book did not allude to Plutarch’s tale directly, the child hero of the novel is called “Alec” (a shortened form of Alexander), and the stallion is the same color in both stories. The 1979 Coppola/Ballard movie of the same title, picked up the parallel; not only quoting Plutarch’s anecdote, but making it a pivotal part of the script. Nevertheless, Plutarch’s narrative of how Alexander tamed and rode the horse has a ring of authenticity, or at least verisimilitude particularly (and on a personal note),

Hyland 2003, 61–70. Cf. Arr. Anab. 3.20.1; 21.6; Hyland 2003, 158–59; on the march rates of Alexander’s army, see Engels 1978, 153–56. 46 Cf. Plut. Alex. 2–3; on Alexander’s rivalry with Philip, see Fredricksmeyer 1990, 300–15. 44 45

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for anyone who has experienced riding or handling horses first hand.47 The tradition seems to have derived from Chares (Gell. NA 5.2.1–5 = BNJ 125 F 18), Alexander’s court chamberlain, and one of the eyewitness historians of Alexander’s campaigns. It is also likely that the tale is something that Alexander would have enjoyed hearing over and over, especially given the number of flatterers and sycophants at his court.48 There are a number of difficulties associated with Plutarch’s anecdote that are well worked ground in modern scholarship, not least being the question of Bucephalas’ age at the time of his sale to Philip. For that matter, we do not know how old Alexander was at the time of the encounter; it is reasonable to assume that he was either in late pre-pubescence, or early adolescence. As Onesicritus (Plut. Alex. 61.1 = BNJ 134 F 20) claims that Bucephalas was around 30 at the time of his death (326 BC), he was roughly coeval with Alexander, which means that the stallion would have been 10, or perhaps even 12, when presented to Philip.49 This evidence also means that Bucephalas’ best years of service, at least in the sense of when the horse was still at his physical peak, would have been when Alexander was in his formative years, and learning the art of combat. No doubt both the boy and his horse honed their skills at the Battle of Chaeronea.50 J.K. Anderson and A.B. Bosworth could not accept that Philip was offered a mature animal for such a huge sum of money; in Bosworth’s words, “if this were remotely true it would entail Alexander breaking Bucephalas when the horse was at least 10 years old, a rather late stage for his intractable behavior to be tolerated.”51 But Alexander was not “breaking” – or in preferred horsemanship terminology – “starting” Bucephalas at all; there is no indication that Philip was offered an untrained horse, and given the king’s own patronage of chariot racing, as well as the equestrian iconography on his coinage,52 he would probably have been an informed buyer. Indeed, Philip’s disgust at the horse’s unruly behavior, and his impression that it was wild and undisciplined, is more understandable if he were expecting a polished performance. A modern parallel would be a wealthy sports car enthusiast going to test-drive a Ferrari, only to see the vehicle stall – repeatedly. However, Bucephalas was an animal that already knew about bridles and riders. Plutarch’s description of Alexander’s action when he mounts Bucephalas makes this I understand from Greenwalt (2016, 32) that Carolyn Willekes has also recently addressed Plutarch’s episode from an equestrian perspective; cf. Frost Di Biasie Simons in BMCR 2017; however, I have been unable to obtain Willekes’ 2016 monograph. 48 Cf. Bosworth 1996, 100. On flatterers and sycophants at Alexander’s court, see Pownall in this volume. 49 Hamilton (1999, 169) cites Peter Green’s verbal opinion that Bucephalas was probably around seven when he was sold, which is a plausible minimum age. 50 Diod. 16.86; cf. Plut. Alex. 9; Alexander at the age of 18 commanded the Macedonian left wing at this engagement in 338; on Bucephalas’ role, Willekes 2013, 319. 51 Bosworth 1995, 313; cf. Greenwalt 2016, 32, “an unbroken horse”; also Hamilton 1999, 169. 52 Hammond 1994, 113–14 with plate 5a, between 142–43. 47

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very clear: “καὶ μικρὰ μὲν περιλαβὼν ταῖς ἡνίαις” (“grasping” or “squeezing the reins a little”).53 By putting some gentle pressure on the reins, Alexander brings the horse into “contact” with the bit, thus making him attentive to his rider’s aids. Anderson is skeptical as to whether the Greeks (or at least Xenophon) understood “contact” (the communication between a rider’s hands and the horse by the reins, as well as the rider’s seat and legs). He points to savage bits, often with metal spikes and burrs, that were commonly used by ancient cultures (including the Greeks) because either they rode completely bareback, or with some kind of cloth padding; hence riders did not have the same degree of security or leverage offered by a saddle and stirrups.54 But Xenophon (Hipp. 10) also advocates training a horse in different bits, and that an experienced horse is best ridden in a smooth bit. However, in order to respond appropriately, Bucephalas would have needed prior training to accept a bridle, bit and a rider on his back, as well as the understanding that certain signals – a touch of his rider’s heel, or a voice command – meant that he was expected to go forward (cf. Plut. Alex. 6.4). Moreover, the stallion’s “intractable behavior” was caused by fear – and all horses, being the highly reactive animals that they are – may display defensive behaviors like rearing, bolting, bucking, kicking, biting or striking, if they perceive a sufficiently threatening or provocative stimulus. Even horses like those of the Queen’s Household Cavalry, Italy’s 4th Carabinieri Mounted Regiment, Canada’s Mounties, or horses employed by mounted police around the world, which have been de-sensitized and extensively trained to ignore strange or loud stimuli, have been known to react in an unexpected and sometimes explosive manner.55 It is also possible, although we have no direct evidence, that the horse dealer (or his staff) had given Bucephalas extra grain, or even some kind of stimulant – after all, doping horses has a long history56 – which was intended to make the horse appear “brilliant” (cf. Xen. Hipp. 11)57– but which only succeeded in rendering the animal edgy and nervous, so that he was ready to spook at the slightest provocation – even at his own shadow. The heightened atmosphere generated by the king and his attendants, For various translations of this phrase see Hamilton 1999, 15. Anderson 1974, 188; on ancient bits, cf. Anderson 1961, 53–63, plates 32–37; also see Hyland 2003, 54–60 with plates between 70–71. 55 For example in London in 2014, Musaqaleh, a six-year-old gelding of the Household Cavalry threw his rider and bolted outside Whitehall during the parade ahead of the State opening of Parliament, cf. https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2649496/Dont-REIN-paradeMoment-horse-bolted-Whitehall-procession-throwing-rider-got-saluted-Queen-drove-pastseconds-later.html. A young, or inexperienced, horse is more likely to show flight response: on modern de-sensitizing and habituation training, see McGreevy et al. 2018, 62–80. 56 Higgins 2006, 6. 57 Anderson (1961, 122) thinks the term “lampros hippos” “brilliant horse” had a technical application, which however, may not have been fully defined in Xenophon’s time. 53 54

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the fluttering cloaks (as Burn suggested),58 as well as the energy of the men, would have increased the horse’s tension. From that point, it would have only taken one shy. Bucephalas’ handler, perhaps worried by the prospect of his master’s wrath from a lost sale, very likely pulled violently down on the reins while shouting at the same time, thereby adding to the stallion’s pain and his fear. He would have escalated his “flight response” to rearing and striking. Alexander took away the source of the horse’s anxiety, settled him down, brought him back into his familiar environment, restored his confidence, and galloped off into history. In conclusion, although Alexander probably owned and perhaps loved many dogs, the names of only two of them generated sufficient interest to survive. Even then, Peritas’ story is essentially a shallower reflection of Bucephalas. The horse rules, so to speak. It is also easy – if one is so inclined – to read the evidence in a more brutal way. Instead of an Alexander who “was exceptionally fond of animals,”59 we have a man who was as oblivious to the military carnage of animals as he was to the wastage of human life, whose dogs were associated with blood sports and animal baiting, and whose beloved equine comrade in arms may have died from wounds inflicted in his master’s last set piece battle – as a kind of sacrifice to an insatiable appetite for conquest.60 Yet Alexander historiography was impressed with Bucephalas. The connection between Alexander and the black stallion was not only recognized, but honored by ancient writers who appear to have been only too sympathetic to it. Both Arrian (Anab. 5. 19. 4) and Plutarch (Alex. 61. 1), although well aware of the alternative versions of Bucephalas’ death, nevertheless chose to promote the softer, more appealing tradition of an animal that was cared for as tenderly as circumstances would allow, until he died naturally at a great age. Arrian provides a eulogy for Bucephalas (Anab. 5.19.6) because as he acknowledges, the horse was important to Alexander.61 Bucephalas may not have been a human being, and while there is colorful, if not fantastic, exaggeration relating to his narrative in the ancient literature, especially the Alexander Romance, there is no hostility, criticism or even ambiguity in the depiction of Alexander’s bond with his horse. The same cannot be said for Alexander’s human nearest and dearest.62 The Alexander historians may well have had favorite animals of their own. Certainly Arrian had Horme, upon whom he conferred immortality with the same robust confidence that led him to suggest himself as Alexander’s Homer (Anab. 1. 12). But for Alexander and Bucephalas, the partnership between the conqueror and charger prevailed, finding as it did a broader, if not romantic resonance. Burn 1947, 18–21; Burn’s book was part of the Teach Yourself History series intended as community outreach after WWII; Burn’s retelling of Plutarch’s story is perceptive and vivid. 59 O’Brien 1992, 161. 60 Oliver Stone’s 2004 film, Alexander, favors Chares’ dramatic and poignant tradition of Bucephalas’ death in battle against Porus. 61 Baynham and Ryan 2018, 616 with n. 8–9. 62 On the treatment of Alexander’s lovers in the ancient sources see Ogden 2011; on Olympias, see Carney 2006. 58

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The enduring image of the General and his Horse continued throughout human culture (and imagination), only to be lost in the 20th century and beyond.63

Bibliography

Anderson, J.K. (1930) Bucephalas and his legend. American Journal of Philology 51, 1–21. Anderson, J.K. (1961) Ancient Greek Horsemanship. Berkeley, University of California Press. Anderson, J.K. (1974) Xenophon. London, Duckworth. Anderson, J.K. (1985) Hunting in the Ancient World. Berkeley, University of California Press. Atkinson, J. (2000) Curzio Rufo Storie Di Alessandro Magno. Vol. 2. Trans. T. Gargiulo. Milan, Fondazione Lorenzo Valla/Arnoldo Mondadori Editore. Baynham, E. and Ryan, T. (2018). “The unmanly ruler”: Bagoas, Alexander’s eunuch lover, Mary Renault’s The Persian Boy, and Alexander reception. In K.R. Moore (ed.) Brill’s Companion to the Reception of Alexander the Great, 615–39. Leiden, Brill. Bell, S. and Willekes, C. (2014) Horse racing and chariot racing. In G.L. Campbell (ed.) The Oxford Handbook of Animals in Classical Thought and Life, 478–88. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Bosworth, A.B. (1988) Conquest and Empire: The Reign of Alexander the Great. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Bosworth, A.B. (1995) Commentary on Arrian’s History of Alexander. Vol. 2. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Bosworth, A.B. (1996) Alexander and the East: The Tragedy of Triumph. Oxford, Clarendon. Bosworth, A.B. and Baynham, E.J. (eds) (2000) Alexander the Great in Fact and Fiction. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Burn, A.R. (1947) Alexander and the Hellenistic Empire. London, Hodder & Stoughton. Campbell, G.L. (ed.) (2014) The Oxford Handbook of Animals in Classical Thought and Life. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Carney, E.D. (2002) Hunting and the Macedonian elite: sharing the rivalry of the chase (Arrian 4.13.1). In D. Ogden (ed.) The Hellenistic World: New Perspectives, 59–80. London, Classical Press of Wales and Duckworth = Carney, E.D. (2015) King and Court in Ancient Macedonia: Rivalry, Treason and Conspiracy, 265–81. Swansea: Classical Press of Wales. Carney, E.D. (2006) Olympias. New York, Routledge. Coleman, K.M. (1990) Fatal charades: Roman executions staged as mythological enactments. Journal of Roman Studies 80, 44–73. Denhart, R. (1937) The truth about Cortes’ horses. The Hispanic American Historical Review 17, 525–32. Denhart, R. (1938) El Morzillo. Southwest Review 23, 184–88. Díaz del Castillo, B. (1916) The True History of the Conquest of New Spain. Alfred Percival Maudslay (ed.) (repr. London, Ashgate, 2010). 63

Cf. Anderson 1930, 20–21. It is something of an irony that the President of Russia, Vladimir Putin, the deposed Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein, and the Chairman of the State Affairs Commission of North Korea, Kim Jong Un, are not and were not resistant to the appeal of images of themselves astride horses – as the internet demonstrates. I am grateful to the editors of this volume, Professors Anson, Frances Pownall and Monica D’Agostini; to Dr Reuben Ramsey for his research assistance; to Professors Daniel Ogden and William Greenwalt for sending me copies of their papers on Bucephalas; to Dr Keith Walker for kindly allowing me access to a chapter of his MS on Hephaestion; to Professor Anson, Associate Professor Pat Wheatley and Dr Liz Hardy for additional material; to all my equestrienne friends for sharing their knowledge; and to my three horses, especially black Cabernet, my “Bucephala”, from whom I have learned so much.

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Diggle, J. (2005) Theophrastus: Characters Commentary. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Engels, D.W. (1978) Alexander the Great and the Logistics of the Macedonian Army. Berkeley, University of California Press. Farnell, L.R. (1921) Greek Hero Cults and Ideas of Immortality. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Fraser, P.M. (1972) Ptolemaic Alexandria. Vols. 1–3. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Fraser, P.M. (1996) Cities of Alexander the Great. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Fredricksmeyer, E.A. (1990) Alexander and Philip: emulation and resentment. Classical Quarterly 85, 300–15. Frost Di Biasie Simons, J. (2017) Review of C. Willekes (2016) The horse in the ancient world: from Bucephalus to the Hippodrome. Bryn Mawr Classical Review 07.05. https://bmcr.brynmawr. edu/2017/2017.07.05/. Georgiadou, A. (2011) Plutarch’s Pelopidas: A Historical and Philological Commentary. Stuttgart, Teubner. Goodwin, D.K. (1995) No Ordinary Time: Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt: The Home Front in World War II. New York, Simon & Schuster. Greenwalt, W. (2016) Bucephalas the hero. In D.A. Powers, J.G. Hawke and J. Langford (eds) Hetairideia. Studies in Honor of W. Lindsay Adams on the Occasion of his Retirement, 29–41. Chicago, Ares. Hamilton, J.R. (1999) Plutarch: Alexander. 2nd ed. Bristol, Bloomsbury Academic. Hammond, N.G.L. (1994) Philip of Macedon. London, Duckworth. Harris, S. and Baker, D. (2020) Budgerigar. London, Allen & Unwin. Heckel, W. (2006) Who’s Who in the Age of Alexander the Great. Malden, MA, Blackwell. Higgins, A.J. (2006) From ancient Greece to modern Athens: 3000 years of doping in competition horses. Journal of Veterinary Pharmacology and Therapeutics 29, 4–8. Holt, F. (1988) Alexander the Great and Bactria. The Formation of a Greek Frontier in Central Asia, Mnemosyne Supplements 104. Leiden and New York, Brill. Homan, M. (1999) A Complete History of Fighting Dogs. New York, Howell Book House. Hyland, A. (2003) The Horse in the Ancient World. Phoenix Mill, Sutton Publishing. Junge, T. (2011) Hitler’s Last Secretary. New York, Skyhorse Publishing. Lindsay, H. (1993) Suetonius Caligula. London, Bristol Classical Press. Lonsdale, S.H. (1979) Attitudes towards animals in ancient Greece. Greece and Rome 26, 146–59. Kostuch, L. (2017) Do animals have a homeland? Ancient Greeks on the cultural identity of animals. Humanalia 9, 69–87. MacKinnon, M. (2014a) Hunting. In G.L. Campbell (ed.) The Oxford Handbook of Animals in Classical Thought and Life, 203–215. Oxford, Oxford University Press. MacKinnon, M. (2014b) Pets. In G.L. Campbell (ed.) The Oxford Handbook of Animals in Classical Thought and Life, 269–81. Oxford, Oxford University Press. McGreevy, P., Christensen, J.W., König von Borset, U. and McLean, A. (2018) Equitation Science. 2nd ed. London, John Wiley & Sons. O’Brien, J.M. (1992) Alexander the Great: The Invisible Enemy. London and New York, Routledge. Ogden, D. (2009) Alexander’s snake sire. In P. Wheatley and R. Hannah (eds) Alexander & His Successors, 136–78. Claremont, CA, Regina Books. Ogden, D. (2011) Alexander the Great, Myth, Genesis and Sexuality. Exeter, University of Exeter Press. Palagia, O. (2000) Hephaestion’s pyre and the royal hunt of Alexander. In A.B. Bosworth and E.J. Baynham (eds) Alexander the Great in Fact and Fiction, 167–206. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Parkin, T.G. and Pomeroy, A.J. (2007) Roman Social History A Sourcebook. London and New York, Routledge. Philips, A.A. and Willcock, M.M. (1999) Xenophon & Arrian On Hunting with hounds. Warminster, Aris & Phillips. Sax, B. (2000) Animals in the Third Reich. Pennsylvania, Continuum. Scobie, A. (1986) Slums, sanitation and mortality in the Roman world. Klio 68, 399–433

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Seyer, M. (2007) Der Herrscher als Jäger: Untersuchungen zur königlichen Jagd im persischen und makedonischen Reich vom 6.-4. Jahrhundert v.Chr. sowie unter den Diadochen Alexanders des Großen. Vienna, Phoibos. Shelton, J.-A. (2014) Spectacles of animal abuse. In G.L. Campbell (ed.) The Oxford Handbook of Animals in Classical Thought and Life, 461–75. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Spence, I.G. (1993) The Cavalry of Classical Greece. Oxford, Clarendon Press. Tarn, W.W. (1948) Alexander the Great. Vol 2. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Toynbee, J.M.C. (1973) Animals in Roman Life and Art. London, Thames & Hudson. Tsibidou-Avloniti, M. (2002) Excavating a painted Macedonian tomb near Thessaloniki. An astonishing discovery. In M. Stamatopoulou and M. Yeroulanou (eds) Excavating Classical Culture Recent Archaeological Discoveries in Greece, 91–98. Oxford, Archaeopress. Willekes, C. (2013). From Steppe to Stable: Horses and Horsemanship in the Ancient World. Dissertation. University of Calgary.

Chapter 9 The Theft of Bucephalas1

Daniel Ogden The shape of the Bucephalas tradition in antiquity is reviewed, with particular attention to the topoi of: the origin of his name; the circumstances of his acquisition; his taming; his episode as an art-critic; his theft by the Mardians and his recovery from them; his death and the foundation of Bucephala; and his temperament and loyalty. Later developments of the tradition are glanced at: his killing of Alexander’s assassin; his transformation into a mare and half-sister of Alexander (!); and his transformation into a unicorn. The bulk of the paper focuses upon the episode of Bucephalas’ theft by the Mardians and the episode of Alexander’s child-making encounter with Thalestris, the Amazon queen, with which it is closely associated in the Vulgate. It is argued that these two episodes reflect a disaggregated and partly rationalised version of a traditional story-type attested in Herodotus’ tale of Heracles and the Scythian Echidna and in the Shahnameh’s tale of Rostam and Tamineh. In this story-type, a powerful female steals the hero’s horse or horses and demands that he ransom them by impregnating her. After a brief review of the shape of the Bucephalas tradition in antiquity, this paper turns its attention specifically to the archaeology of the theft of Bucephalas episode.2 In gratitude to Beth Carney, my valued collaborator, for her pioneering and profound scholarship and her generosity. The present χαριτήσιον might seem a more appropriate tribute to her oeuvre if we bear in mind that the Ethiopic version of the Romance makes Bucephalas a female member of Alexander’s circle. The paper has been much improved by comments from Dr Elizabeth Baynham, whose equestrian expertise matches her Alexandrian. 2 The standard article on the Bucephalas tradition remains Anderson 1930, incorporating a most convenient collation of sources. More recent important contributions include Bosworth 1995, 311–16; Frazier 1992, 4496–99 (linguistic analysis of Plutarch’s account of the taming); Baynham 1995 (Bucephalas’ role in the Alexander Romance tradition); Stadter 1996, 291–6 (literary analysis of Plutarch’s taming scene); Greenwalt 2002 (the image of Alexander and Bucephalas as reflecting that of the heroic Thracian rider figure and his mount); 2016 (the dead Bucephalas projected as 1

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The Shape of the Bucephalas Tradition in Antiquity Bucephalas entered Alexander’s iconographic tradition at the earliest point. The charming horse Alexander rides in the Alexander Mosaic declares his identity as Bucephalas (“Ox-head”) with his forward, offside ear given a generally grey or white appearance and shaped to salute a horn. Stewart dates the original painting (by Philoxenus?) to immediately after the 333 BC Battle of Issus.3 Following on from this, the Seleucid mints regularly deployed images of bull-horned horse-heads, the first seemingly issued at Babylon and Susa in the ca. 311–305 BC period;4 from ca. 305 BC Susa, Persis and other mints produced images of a man in profile wearing a bull-horned helmet;5 and in 295 BC Ecbatana produced a striking coin with a bull-horned horse in full body ridden by a rider with a bull-horned helmet.6 The human figures of the latter two groups have been variously interpreted by those that know as representing Alexander himself, Seleucus, Dionysus or some contrived amalgamation thereof.7 Bucephalas entered the literary Alexander tradition early too, where from the first he was a source of contention. He was spoken of by two historians that were personally close to Alexander, Chares of Mytilene, Alexander’s chamberlain, and Onesicritus, Alexander’s chief helmsman in India.8 Both told, as it seems, that he died shortly after the battle against Porus. For Chares this was a result of wounds experienced in the battle itself as he heroically saved his master, who had rashly ridden him too deep into the enemies’ lines. For Onesicritus it was rather as a result of old age. And it seems too, from the contexts of both the relevant fragments (in Gellius and Plutarch respectively) that the information was conveyed in the context of a record of Alexander’s foundation on the banks of the Hydaspes (Jhelum) of the city named for Bucephalus, Bucephala, in grief for his loss. It could well be that the foundation, which represented the horse’s most tangible and significant historical impact, was the initial hook that justified discussion of the animal. a hero and as the oikist of his city of Bucephala; my thanks to Prof. Greenwalt for most kindly supplying me with a copy of this paper); Chandezon 2010 (the art of Bucephalas). The RE entry (Kaerst 1897) is disappointingly vestigial; the DNP entry (Badian 1997) hardly better. 3 See Stewart 1993, 130–50 (with color figs 4–5a); Chandezon 2010, 181–83; Greenwalt 2016, 40; pace Cohen 1997, 138 (a strange argument). Dr Baynham draws to my attention that the representation of the ear can still be considered (also) quite naturalistic: the ear’s overall appearance of whiteness derives mainly from the realistic detailing of its inner part, whilst its overall shape appropriately represents that of an ear in the half-cocked position, that with which the horse shows that it is paying attention to its rider. 4 Houghton and Lorber 2002–2008, nos. 88, 160, 164, 166, 171. 5 Houghton and Lorber 2002–2008, nos. 173–76, 195–99, 226–80. 6 Houghton and Lorber 2002–2008, nos. 203, 209, 213. 7 Discussion of these groups in Lane Fox 1973, 360–61; Stewart 1993, 315, 317, 2003, 50; Houghton and Stewart 1999; Miller and Walters 2004; Chandezon 2010, 179–80; Iossif 2012, 69–72; Erickson 2013, 120–25; Nawotka 2017, 74; Ogden 2017, 61–63. 8 Chares BNJ 125 F18 apud Gellius 5.2.1–5; Onesicritus BNJ 134 F20 apud Plut. Alex. 61. All references to BNJ (the house style) should be taken to subsume reference also, and sometimes primarily, to FGrH, the giant upon whose shoulder this online resource stands.

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But it is probable that both authors already went considerably further and into the realm of the fantastical. Chares would appear to have spoken of his human temperament, the creature expressing “an almost human sense of relief ” (quasi cum sensus humani solacio) when able to deliver Alexander from danger in the battle against Porus.9 Onesicritus was a notorious spinner of outlandish stories, being described by Strabo, notoriously, as “Alexander’s chief helmsman of the fabulous,”10 whilst his other fragments include such imaginative gems as the two massive serpents Abisares supposedly exhibited to Alexander, one of 80 cubits in length, the other of 140, and both with eyes the size of, appropriately, Macedonian shields.11 As we shall see later, a potential context can be established for him having spun a rather more fantastical story around Bucephalas. Thereafter, the ancient tradition distributed itself into a number of definable episodes and topoi: • The origin of Bucephalas’ name. The notion that Bucephalas was so named because his head in some way resembled an ox’s also entered the literary tradition at the earliest stage. Chares himself was already explaining that the horse had a head shaped like a bull’s. Strabo, Festus, Gellius and Libanius were to agree.12 But it is not until Pliny that the literary tradition preserves what must have been the original justification of the name. He, Arrian, Solinus and the Alexander Romance tell rather that the horse was so named from the fact that he had either a white mark or a brand in the shape of a bull’s head on his shoulder or on his head. The 350–240 BC lead tablets of the Athenian cavalry archive tell us that the term boukephalas described one of the brands indicating a horse’s stud.13 • The acquisition of Bucephalas. There is little agreement in the tradition about the means by which Bucephalas arrived at the Macedonian court. Chares, as it again appears from Gellius, told that a person (unspecified by Gellius at any rate) bought Bucephalas for the princely sum of 13 talents and then gave him to Philip. Diodorus has Demaratus of Corinth give the horse directly to Alexander. Pliny and Our editor Ed Anson observes: “Having been associated with horses most of my life, the ascription of human emotions to them is hardly unique. I myself am convinced that there are a number that are possessed by demons.” 10 Strabo C698 [15.1.28] = Onesicritus BNJ 134 T10: τῶν παραδόξων ἀρχικυβερνήτην. 11 Onesicritus BNJ 134 F16a–c; cf. also F14 (500-year-old elephants). 12 Chares BNJ 125 F18; Strabo C698–9 [15.1.29]; Festus 32 M; Gell. NA 5.2; [Lib.] Prog. 27. 13 Plin. HN 8.154; Arr. Anab. 5.19.4–6; Solin. 45.5–8; AR (A) 1.15. So too schol. vet. Ar. Nub. 23; Etym. Gen. (9th c. AD) s.v. Βουκέφαλος; Suda (10th c. AD) s.v. κοππατίας; Etym. Mag. (12th c. AD) s.v. Βουκέφαλος; Tzetz. (12th c. AD) Chil. 1.28.809–14; Excerpta Vaticana 183. AR (Syr.) 1.17 ups the ante: Bucephalas’ mark depicted rather a wolf holding a bull in its mouth. Discussion (including matters of orthography: Bucephalas or Bucephalus?) in Anderson 1930, 3–7; Hamilton 1969, 15; Bosworth 1995, 314; Georgoudi 1990, 145–46; Stoneman 2007, 1:503; Chandezon 2010, 178–79; Nawotka 2017, 73–74. For the cavalry archive, see Kroll (1977, esp. 86–88, 138), and the works of Bosworth and Chandezon as cited. 9

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Plutarch (and eventually Tzetzes) have Philip buy the horse for 13 talents from Philonicus of Pharsalus. The Alexander Romance has him given to Philip by the rulers of Cappadocia.14 The taming of Bucephalas. The story of Alexander’s taming of Bucephalas is preserved for us first by Plutarch and then, with glorious further elaboration, by the Alexander Romance, which turns him into a maneater.15 More of this anon. However, there is a good chance the tale may already have appeared in Chares. The Chares fragment’s claim that Bucephalas was bought for 13 talents and then given to Philip is a reasonably close match for Plutarch’s claim that Philonicus the Thessalian sold Bucephalas to Philip for 13 talents, and in the Plutarchean context this claim is the starting point for his story of the boy Alexander’s taming of the horse. Chares did, it again appears from Gellius, also have the claim that Bucephalas would allow no other person to mount him when caparisoned, which is broadly compatible with the taming story.16 Bucephalas, art-critic. Aelian supplies a tale to which Pliny had glancingly referred: Alexander was unimpressed by the quality of Apelles’ equestrian portrait of him, subsequently to be found in Ephesus. But when his horse was brought in, it whinnied at the horse in the painting as if a real one (a successful mimesis, evidently), prompting Apelles to observe that the horse was more artistically-inclined than the king. Neither author, we should properly note, actually names Bucephalas here.17 The theft and recovery of Bucephalas. The tale of the theft of Bucephalas by the Mardians and Alexander’s recovery of him we learn of first from Diodorus, Justin (i.e., Trogus) and Curtius. Arrian briefly mentions Bucephalas’ theft rather by the Uxians. Of all this, more anon too.18 The death of Bucephalas and the foundation of Bucephala.19 After Chares and Onescritus, these are mentioned by a broad range of sources. Arrian agrees with Onesicritus that the horse died of old age. Diodorus, Curtius (though his wording is vague), and the Metz Epitome, however, agree with Chares that he died from wounds in the battle against Porus, which implies that Clitarchus had done the

Chares BNJ 125 F18 apud Gell. NA 5.2.1–5; Diod. 17.76; Plin. HN 8.154; Plut. Alex. 6; AR (A) 1.13; Tzetz. Chil. 1. hist 29, ll. 809–15. Excerpta Vaticana (for which see Sternbach 1894) 202 retains Bucephalas’ Cappadocian origin, but also retains Demaratus of Corinth as the giver. Discussion in Anderson 1930, 8–10; Lane Fox 1973, 47–48; Stoneman 2007, 1:500. 15 Plut. Alex. 6, AR (A) 1.13, 15, 17. Unsurprisingly, the tradition works with a simplistic notion of what it is to tame a horse: cf. Baynham 1995, 6. 16 A suspicion shared by Jacoby and Müller on Chares (FGrH and BNJ ad loc. respectively) and also by Hamilton 1965, 118; 1969, 15; 1973, 32; Baynham 1995, 5–6 n. 27; Bosworth 1995, 313–14. 17 Plin. HN 35.95; Ael. VH 2.3. 18 Diod. 17.76–7, Just. 12.3.4–7, Curt. 6.5.17–21, Arr. Anab. 5.19.4–6. 19 The city’s name appears variously as Boukephala (both fem. sing. and neut. plu.), Boukephaleia, Boukephalon and Boukephalos, with or without the supplement of Alexandria. For the variants see Radet 1941, 33–34 n. 5; cf. also Nawotka 2017, 267. 14

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same. Strabo also holds this line.20 The Alexander Romance supercharges the theme of Bucephalas dying from wounds inflicted in the battle of the Hydaspes: he was shot by the Indian king Porus himself, whereupon Alexander, regardless of his own safety, dragged his carcass back out of the battle himself to stop the enemy getting their hands on it.21 We thank Pliny for the information that the city of Bucephala – site still unknown to us – was actually built around Bucephalas’ tomb (a fact which prompts Greenwalt to suggest that he was projected into the role of oikist and hero).22 Subsequently Cassander (presumably) named a deme of Thessalonice for the horse too, Boukephalitai.23 • The temperament and loyalty of Bucephalas. Chares already had Bucephalas allowing no other man to mount him than Alexander, as we have seen, and spoke also of the horse’s almost human sense of relief when able to deliver Alexander from danger. In Curtius, Arrian and Solinus too only Alexander could mount him.24 Pliny has a nice inversion of this motif: when Bucephalas was wounded at the sack of Thebes, he would not, in jealously, allow Alexander to mount any other horse as a replacement.25 According to Plutarch, the elderly Bucephalas was more tolerant: Alexander sought to conserve his energy for the vital battles, and made use of other horses for reviewing the troops.26 Plutarch implicitly compares Bucephalas’ temperament not to that of a human but to that of a loyal dog, as he aligns Alexander’s foundation of Bucephala with his foundation of a city named for his favorite dog, the lion-killing Peritas. The Alexander Romance does the same in having the tamed Bucephalas fawn upon Alexander like a dog.27

Diod. 17.95; Just. 12.8.8; Strabo C698–9 [15.1.29]; Curt. 9.1.6, 9.3.22–3; Periplus of the Erythraean Sea (mid-1st century AD?) 47; Plin. HN 8.154; Plut. Alex. 61, Mor. (On the Fortune of Alexander) 328 f; Arr. Anab. 5.19.4–6, 5.29.5; Ptol. Geog. 7.1.46; Solin. 45.5–8; Steph. Byz. s.v. Βουκεφάλεια; Metz Epitome 62; Suda (10th century AD) s.v. κοππατίας. See Lane Fox 1973, 360–61; Baynham 1995, 6–7; Bosworth 1995, 314–15 (pinpointing Clitarchus); Chandezon 2010, 183–84. 21 AR (A) 3.3, 3.5, 3.35. In the Ethiopic version (AR (Eth.) 121–23 Budge) Porus has his mages cast a spell on Bucephalas, whereupon she (female here) is made to cast him on the ground. 22 Plin. HN 8.154. Discussion in Bosworth 1995, 311–13; Frazer 1996, 161–62 (reasonably certain he can identify the site); Greenwalt 2016. Bucephala was founded on the site of the camp; the paired Nicaea on the other side of the Hydaspes at the site of the battle itself. 23 Steph. Byz. s.v. Βουκεφάλεια. 24 Curt. 6.5.18; Arr. Anab. 5.19.4–6; Solin. 45.5–8. 25 Plin. HN 8.154. 26 Plut. Alex. 32. 27 Peritas: Plut. Alex. 61 (citing Sotion and Potamon of Lesbos BNJ 147 F1); Theopompus BNJ 115 F 340 also mentions the foundation. Bucephalas fawning: AR (A) 1.17 (with the important emendation of Anderson 1929) and AR (Syr.) 18 Budge. 20

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So, the fragment of Chares preserved by Gellius gives reason to suppose that all of these commonplaces were present already in the work of that author, with the exception of the theft and Apelles episodes. Let us briefly mention three rather later developments in the Bucephalas tradition, all curious and delightful, and all alike natural outgrowths of this earlier material. • The epsilon (ca. AD 700) and gamma recensions of the Alexander Romance have the ever loyal Bucephalas, who in this version has managed to survive to the point of Alexander’s own death, kill the slave that has poisoned his master. He grabs the slave in his teeth, drags him before the dying Alexander, shakes him about and beats him against the ground, pulverising him so vigorously that his flaked remains fall upon the onlookers like snow. He then dies himself, on the same day as his master.28 • The Ethiopic version of the Alexander Romance (14th century AD in itself, but thought to represent a lost Arabic version perhaps of the 9th century AD) makes Bucephalas the very half-sister of Alexander himself, conceived simultaneously with him: she, now a mare, is conceived when her mother-mare drinks from the water in which Nectanebo has done his ablutions after his Alexander-conceiving sex with Olympias. A shadow of the same motif is to be found also in the Shahnameh.29 The notion that the horse was conceived on the same day as Alexander makes a pleasing counterpart to the notion that he or she died on the same day as he did. • In the (8th-century or later) gamma recension of the Alexander Romance Bucephalas becomes a unicorn: he has the brand of a bull’s head on his right thigh and a (single) horn on his head.30 I will not venture further into the representation of Bucephalas in art here. There is little reason to doubt that Bucephalas is the intended co-subject of all surviving equestrian portraits of the king, not merely the Alexander Mosaic.31 Attention may be drawn to the ekphrasis of the equestrian statue of Alexander the Founder at Alexandria included by Nicolaus Rhetor of Myra (5th century AD) in his (ps.-Libanian) Progymnasmata: the animal is described in superb detail here.32 AR (ε) 46.4, AR (γ) 3.32– 4; cf. Baynham 1995, 6–7 n. 30 (but this detail is not present in the alpha recension); Jouanno 2002, 345, 360; Stoneman 2008, 190–91, 231. 29 AR (Eth.) 19 Budge; Ferdowsi Shahnameh V.1781 (vi, 26–27 Warner). Cf. AR (Eth.) 37–38 (for Alexander’s taming of Bucephalas). Discussion in Budge 1896, xxxvi–vii; Anderson 1930, 9, 15–16; Baynham 1995, 7–8. 30 AR (γ) 1.13: καὶ κέρας ἐν τῃ κεφαλῇ; cf. Anderson 1930, 7; Jouanno 2002, 412 n.130. The unicorn (μονοκέρως) first enters the ancient literary record, though not yet in name, at Ctesias Indica, FGrH 688 F45 §45. 31 See Stewart 1993 esp. monochrome figs 21 (Herculaneum bronze, ca. 330–320 BC), 25–26 (volute crater, ca. 330 BC), 27 (Apulian amphora, ca. 330 BC), 102–6 (Alexander sarcophagus, ca. 320–310 BC), and the related discussions; see also Chandezon 2010. 32 [Lib.] Prog. 27, reprinted in Stewart 1993, 397–400 and (in translation) in Greenwalt 2016, 37–39. 28

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The Theft of Bucephalas It has not been fully appreciated that the tale of Alexander’s loss of Bucephalus in Asia is strongly bound up with that of his encounter with the Amazons (the erstwhile opponents of those great horse-tamers of myth, Heracles and Bellerophon).33 Diodorus tells that, having arrived in Hyrcania, Alexander followed the coastline west until he came to the land of the Mardians. Whilst he was ravaging their country, a Mardian raiding party carried off the best of the royal horses, which had been left in the care of Pages. The horse is unnamed, but said to be a gift of Demaratus of Corinth, which accordingly identifies him as Bucephalas. Anguished by the loss, Alexander made a proclamation that he would destroy the land completely and kill every last inhabitant unless the horse were returned. As he made a start on carrying out his word, the natives returned the horse, together with expensive gifts and 50 men to beg for his forgiveness, the best of whom Alexander retained as hostages. Immediately, Diodorus then tells that Alexander returned to Hyrcania where Thal(l)estris the queen of the Amazons came to meet him. She had left her army at the border of the territory, and brought with her an escort of just 300 women. She declared that she had come to him with the purpose of getting a child, in order to create an offspring that would surpass all other mortals, he being the greatest of men and she being the strongest of all women. Alexander acceded to the request, lay with her for 13 days, and then sent her home with gifts.34 Similarly, Curtius tells how Alexander had entered the remotest part of Hyrcania before proceeding to introduce the Mardi as a race bordering on the region.35 He tells that Alexander and his men were trying to track the scattered Mardi down in the forest lairs from which they had been harrying his army. The army became dispersed in the unknown country, and this is how Bucephalas – explicitly so named this time – was captured. Alexander made proclamation through an interpreter that he would slaughter every last man of the Mardi; appropriately terrified, they returned the horse to him along with gifts. The king pressed on with his campaign, nonetheless, until the Mardi completely surrendered. He received hostages from them, and commanded that they make themselves subject to Phradates. Curtius proceeds: on the fifth day after this, Alexander returned to his standing camp in Hyrcania, and, after bestowing gifts on Artabazus there, sent him home. From there he proceeded to a city in the same region which had been home to Darius’ palace. There he was met by Narbazanes, who brought him gifts, including the eunuch Bagoas, and whom he pardoned. Without any indication of time frame, Curtius now goes on to Heracles as tamer of the horses of Diomede: esp. Diod. 4.15.3–4, Lactantius Placidus on Statius Thebaid 12.156. Heracles and the Amazons: esp. Diod. 4.16, Apollod. Bibl. 2.5.9. Bellerophon as tamer of Pegasus and conqueror of the Amazons: esp. Pind. Ol. 13.63–6 and 83–90. 34 Diod. 17.76–7. For discussion of the Amazon tradition in association with Alexander, see Berve 1926, 2:419 (Abschnitt ii no. 26); Hamilton 1969, 123–27 on §46; Brunt 1976–83, 2:493–5 (Appendix 21); Baynham 2001; Heckel 2006, 262–63; Stoneman 2008, 129–34; Ogden 2011, esp. 146–50. 35 Curt. 9.5.1, 9.5.11.

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tell him that the Amazon queen Thalestris also came to him there, travelling from her kingdom of Themiscyra, which was based on the plains surrounding the river Thermodon, and which bordered Hyrcania. Leaving behind the bulk of her army, she approached Alexander, again, with an escort of 300. She professed that she had come to create children with the king, being worthy to do so, with the plan that she would retain any female offspring for herself and return any male offspring to him. He acceded to her request, although she was more eager than he was, and she compelled him to remain there engaged in lovemaking for 13 days, whereupon they went their separate ways, she back to her own land, the king on to Parthenie (“Maiden-land”).36 Justin (i.e., the Augustan Trogus) has nothing to say of the Bucephalas incident, but similarly binds Hyrcania and the Mardians together in his account of the Amazon queen, which itself is broadly comparable to that of Diodorus: “He made himself master of Hyrcania and the Mardians. Here Thalestris, or Minythya, queen of the Amazons came to meet him, accompanied by 300 women … to get children from the king.”37 And so too (the early 5th century AD) Orosius: “So Alexander … subdued the Hyrcanians and the Mardians. It was here that Halestris or Minothea, the sexually voracious Amazon, found him, still directing his attention to this war. She had three hundred women with her, and sought from him the favour of fathering her offspring.”38 These striking episodes have no analogue in the Alexander Romance, strange to tell: there is no theft of Bucephalas, and Alexander deals with the Amazons only through the medium of letters. Thalestris’ role as the great queen is perhaps usurped by Candace.39 The consonance of Diodorus, Curtius and Justin speaks, of course, of Clitarchus.40 And we do know from explicitly attributed fragments that Clitarchus did speak of the Amazon queen’s visit to Alexander at least: Strabo (“Thalestria”) and Plutarch both tell us so.41 We will make some observations about this material’s archaeology later on. Curt. 9.5.17–21. The deal offered here reflects established Amazon practice beyond the Alexander tradition. Strabo C504 [11.5.1], for example, explains the standing deal they maintained with the Gargarians, who would have sex with the Amazons at random. The Amazons would keep the resulting female children for themselves, but give the male ones to the Gargarians. The principal accounts of Amazon ethnography in general are to be found at Hdt. 4.110–17; Diod. 2.45–6, 3.52–5; Strabo C504–5 [11.5.1–4]; Just. 2.4 (Herodotus and Diodorus also speak of their use of men for mere insemination). 37 Just. 12.3.4–7; cf. 2.4.33, 42.3.7. 38 Oros. 3.18.5. 39 AR (A) 3.25–6. Candace: 3.18–23. 40 See, e.g., Baynham 2001, 116. 41 Plut. Alex. 46 and Strabo C505 [11.5.4] incorporating, respectively, Clitarchus BNJ 137 F15 and 16. Strabo is dismissive of the tale, and he had good reason to be: as he explained, Hyrcania was 6,000 stades distant from the Amazon homeland of Themiscyra and the plains of the Thermodon. But Trogus (Justin) was evidently trying to meet objections of this sort when carefully specifying that the Amazons had had to ride for no less than 35 days in order to meet Alexander in Hyrcania. See Baynham 2001, 17. 36

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Heracles and the Echidna The collocation of these two tales in the vulgate tradition takes on a new significance when we consider Herodotus’ superb and distinctive account of Heracles’ adventure with the Scythian Echidna (Viper), which he claims to have taken from the Greeks of Pontus. He says that the hero came to Scythia driving the cattle of Geryon. The cattle are then seemingly forgotten whilst Herodotus proceeds to tell that during a wintry night Heracles drew his lionskin over himself to sleep beside his mares, which he had left to graze yoked to his chariot. When he awoke, they had disappeared “by some divine fortune.” Heracles searched everywhere for them, until he came to a place called “Wooded” (Hylaiē). He found living in a cave here a “half-maiden, a viper of double form” (mixoparthenon tina, echidnan diphyea), i.e., what we would now call an “anguipede,” a woman above the waist and a serpent below. When Heracles asked her if she had seen his horses, she said that she had them, but she would not return them to him unless he had sex with her, which he duly did. Although Heracles was keen to get the horses back, she delayed restoring them so that she could keep him with her as long as possible. At long last restore them she did, and she also declared that she was pregnant with three sons from him. She asked Heracles what she should do with them when they were grown: should she keep them there with her, or send them on to him? Heracles responded that she should retain in her country the one that could draw his bow as he himself did, and wear his belt as he himself did, fitted with a golden vessel. The others she should send away out of the country. The elder two failed the trial, but the youngest, Scythes, succeeded in it, was allowed to remain, duly gave his name to the land of Scythia and originated the line of its kings.42 It is immediately apparent that Diodorus’ and Curtius’ – Clitarchus’ – adjacent stories of the Mardian theft of Alexander’s horse and the Amazon queen’s demand for sex and child-production with him constitute a disaggregated and rationalised account of the story-type of the Scythian Echidna (to the extent, that is, that anything incorporating Amazons can be considered “rationalized”). The headline themes of horse-theft and the female demanding child-making aside, there are also more specific points of contact between the Herodotean narrative and the more detailed Curtian narrative in particular: • The Scythian Echidna lives in a land called “Wooded” (Hylaiē). Curtius, in his more expansive account of the Mardian episode, characterises the inner part of their 42

Hdt. 4.8–10. The affinity of this tale with that of Alexander and Thalestris is seen by Stoneman 2008, 130. There are vestiges of parallel versions of the tale at: Diod. 2.42 (Zeus sires Scythes with an earthborn maiden, a woman above and a viper, echidna, below); Val. Flac. 6.48–59 (Zeus sires Colaxes with twin-snaked nymph, nymphae geminos… angues); Tabula Albana IG xiv 1293.a = BNJ 40 F1a lines 93–6 (Heracles sires Agathyrsus and Scythes with Echidna the daughter of the river Araxes; late ii AD). For both the tale of Heracles and the corresponding one of Rostam and Tamineh (for which see below) in a wider context, see Ustinova 2005 (she also reproduces some intriguing 4th-century BC Scythian images of an anguipede goddess); P’yankov 2006; Kuehn 2011, 93–95.

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land as wooded in a most distinctive way. It has exceptionally high forests (praealtae silvae), and the natives make a novel form of fortification out of their great trees. They plant them close together and bend their lower branches down back into the earth, whereby they take root again and produce another, even thicker, trunk. In addition, they intertwine the trees’ branches so as to make continuous and impassable hedges. It is precisely in the attempt of Alexander’s army to penetrate this shield that they become dispersed and the horse gets lost. In his subsequent attempt to destroy their land completely Alexander begins to have the great trees cut down and their hedges piled over with earth brought down from the mountains.43 Curtius’ description of the trees strikingly resembles Onesicritus’ description of Banyan trees in the kingdom of Muciscanus in India.44 • Thalestris’ eagerness for love-making outstrips Alexander’s, just as the Echidna’s eagerness had outstripped Heracles’.45 (Let no one, accordingly, use Curtius’ words here as a basis for claims about the historical Alexander’s sexuality!) • In the cases of Heracles and Alexander alike, the potency of the hero is taken as assured and inevitable, à la Zeus.46 • Both Herodotus’ Echidna and Curtius’ Thalestris raise the subject of a deal in relation to the children that are (inevitably) to ensue, though the former asks Heracles what he wants, whereas the latter rather tells Alexander what she wants.47

Rostam and Tamineh The picture becomes more interesting, and more complicated, when we consider Ferdowsi’s ca. AD 1000 Persian epic Shahnameh. In this the great hero Rostam dozes in a meadow near Samangan after a good meal, leaving his great steed Rakhsh to roam free, where he is espied and coveted by some Turkman horsemen. They eventually capture him, at the cost of three of their lives (he tears the head from one of them) and take him off to the city. Upon waking, Rostam follows Rakhsh’s tracks to the city and makes appeal to the king for his return. The king reassures him that the horse Curt. 5.6.13–21. Onesicritus BNJ 134 F22; cf. Whitby at BNJ ad loc. 45 Dr Baynham points out that Thalestris’ desire is indicative of a feral, centaur-like appetite. 46 A point I owe to Dr Baynham. 47 Of some considerable interest here is the inscribed text accompanying the illustrations of Heracles’ Labours on the late 2nd-century AD Tabula Albana, in which we find a number of the Bucephalan themes adumbrated within short compass and with, as it were, a shake of the kaleidoscope (Tabula Albana IG xiv 1293.a = BNJ 40 F1a lines 79–81, 87–9, 92–107): “He marched against Thrace and killed Diomede [he of the man-eating horses that Heracles tamed] … Heracles founded the city of Abdera in Thrace over the tomb of Abderus, son of Thronicus … Then, crossing into Scythia he defeated [the river] Araxes in a battle. He had sex with his daughter, Echidna, and got the sons Agathyrsus and Scythes. Then he came to the Amazons and the river Thermodon and conquered them in a battle, slaying Hippolyte in a battle. Heracles captured the city of Sinope, expelled the Amazons and settled Greeks in it. Then he marched against Thrace and slew Diomede [sic].” 43 44

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will be found and in the meantime hosts him lavishly. As he sleeps that night in the palace he is visited by the king’s daughter Tamineh, who is “in stature like a lofty cypress tree,” perhaps significantly. She declares to him that she has no mate fit for herself amongst other kings and asks him to sleep with her and give her a child. If he does so, she will restore Rakhsh to him and make the whole of Samangan subject to him. Rostam does the decent thing and asks for her hand from the king who, “that noble cypress,” is delighted by the request and accedes to it, whereupon Rostam and Tamineh spend the night together. The next morning he gives Tamineh his armlet and tells her that if she bears a daughter, she is to plait it into her hair, but if she bears a son, she is to put it on his arm. After another night of passion he is greeted by the king, who brings him the good news that Rakhsh has been found. Rostam departs. Nine months later, Tamineh gives birth to a great son, Sohrab.48 The affinities with both the Heracles-Echidna tale on the one hand and the tale of Alexander’s encounters with the Mardians and the Amazon queen on the other are manifest, and need not be catalogued in detail. They are tabulated in Table 9.1. Suffice it here to draw attention to the motif of the woods (both Tamineh and her father are “cypresses”), and to the motif of the conditional deal between the parents-to-be in relation to the fate of their child. The affinities between the Alexander and Rostam traditions do not end here. Both have previously enjoyed striking and parallel taming scenes with their respective mounts. The tale of Alexander’s taming of Bucephalas is preserved for us first by Plutarch. As Philip rejects Philonicus’ offer to sell the horse to him for 13 talents, on the ground of his intractability, Alexander appreciates his latent quality and protests, whereupon Philip offers him a deal: if Alexander can master him, he will buy the horse for him; otherwise Alexander himself will forfeit the price of the horse. Alexander has noticed that the horse is frightened of his own shadow, and so calms him down by turning him towards the sun and successfully mounts and rides him. Philip, the proud father, congratulates him and tells him to seek out a kingdom equal to himself, Macedonia being too small for him.49 In the alpha recension of the Alexander Romance Bucephalas is brought to Philip in heavy chains by the rulers of Cappadocia. He is beautiful and huge, but a literal maneater. Philip has him put in a cage and executes pirates and murderers by throwing them to him. The Delphic oracle then predicts that the next ruler of Macedon and the world will be the one that can ride Bucephalas through the city of Pella. In due course the 14-year-old Alexander hears Bucephalas’ neighing, which resembles the roaring of a lion. He asks Ptolemy about him, and he explains his nature. At the sound of Alexander’s own voice Bucephalas becomes quiet Shahnameh V.435–41 (ii, 121–26 Warner). The modern standard English translation of the Shahnameh is Davis 2006 but, unlike Warner and Warner 1912, this omits much, so I continue to cite the Warners instead. For the original Persian text see Khaleghi-Motlagh 1988–2008. 49 Plut. Alex. 6; this material is recycled at Zonaras 4.8 (12th century AD). For general commentary on the Plutarch scene: Hamilton 1969, 14–16. I can find little to bring away from Whitmarsh’s contention (2002, 180–81) that the taming of Bucephalas serves, somehow, as a model of paideia. 48

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Table 9.1. Narrative alignments for the two story-types: (A) the taming of the exceptional horse; and (B) the theft of the exceptional horse and his recovery from a powerful female Herodotus on Heracles and his horses (4.8–10)

A. Initial taming of the horse –

The Alexander tradition on Alexander and Bucephalas (Diodorus 17.76–7, Curtius 9.5)

The Shanameh on Rostam and Rakhsh V.287–9 (i, 378–81 Warner), V.435–41 (ii, 121–26 Warner)

A. Alexander alone can tame Bucephalas (Diod., Curtius, AR) Bucephalas the maneater (AR)

A. Rostam alone can tame Rakhsh The threat of Rakhsh’s mother, and of the untamed Rakhsh himself B. The Turkmans steal Rakhsh as Rostam sleeps

The mortal danger of attempting to do so

–

B. Theft of the horse(s)

B. The Echidna steals Heracles’ horses as he sleeps

B1. The Mardians steal Bucephalas when separated from Alexander (Diod., Curtius)

The hero searches for the lost horse(s)

Heracles searches far and wide

Alexander threatens the Rostam tracks Rakhsh Mardians with obliterato Samangan tion unless they produce the horse (Diod., Curtius)

The hero encounters a powerful female who demands to sleep with him to beget children

The Echidna

B2. Thal(l)estris, the Amazon queen (Diod, Curtius)

Tamineh, princess of Samangan

So the Amazon queen says (Diod., Curtius)

So Tamineh says

The female protests that as exceptional people they are fit to mate with each other A deal is made about the children between the lovers

As to which is to be heir to Heracles and rule Scythia

As to the different fates of male and female children (Curtius)

As to the different fates of male and female children

A child is to wear a binding object of the hero’s

Heracles’ girdle

[Alexander gives the Amazon queen gifts (Diod.)]

Rostam’s armlet

She is keener than he

Echidna retains Heracles, who is more interested in his horses

Thalestris keener than Alexander (Curtius)

Tamineh accosts Rostam for sex

The theme of woodland

The land of Hyllaie

The woodland defences Comparison of both of the Mardians (Curtius) Tamineh and her father the king to cypresses

and, at the sight of him, does obeisance. Ignoring the fragments of human bodies with which he is surrounded, Alexander uncages him, mounts him and rides him, even without a bridle. Philip salutes his son as ruler of the world.50 In the Shahnameh Rostam’s first encounter with Rakhsh takes place as follows. Zal runs all his horses past Rostam for him to choose one for himself. His eyes alight on 50

AR (A) 1.13, 15, 17. For general commentary see Stoneman 2007, 1:500–8; Nawotka 2017, 73–77.

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an elephantine colt, and he coils his lasso to catch it. One of the herdsmen discourages him: the horse, Rakhsh, is not for him. Rostam objects that the horse has not yet been branded. The herdsman explains rather that the horse – a “dragon” – is for no one, since none have been able to master it in the three years since it has been fit to saddle, as it is ever protected by its mother. Nonetheless, Rostam proceeds to lasso it, whereupon its mother, also elephantine, charges him. Rostam knocks her down with a single blow and she returns to the herd. He then mounts and is able to control the colt at once, who accordingly becomes his loyal and devoted mount for life. Although the poet’s attention focuses on the battle with the mother here, it is evident that the colt’s mettle is equivalent to if not greater than hers: that Rostam is able to master him at once is merely a token of his own exceptional prowess.51 The general influence of the Alexander tradition, especially in the guise of the Alexander Romance, on the Shahnameh is clear and well known: it is, after all, the ultimate source of its rich Sikander material.52 But the Alexander tradition cannot stand in the direct line of influence in regard to the Rostam-and-Rakhsh material, or at any rate to all of it: this would require us to posit that the original thieving-queen story-type, which is disaggregated in the Alexander tradition (B1 and B2 in the table), was somehow independently reintegrated into something close to its original form by the Persians. The chances of this happening are remote, and the hypothesis does not survive Occam’s razor. Rather it seems clear that, to some extent at least, the Alexander tradition and the Shahnameh are drinking in parallel from the well of a unified horse-theft/powerful-female story-type. Or rather they are drinking in parallel from the well of a linked pair of story-types (namely that of the taming (A in the table) and that of the theft/powerful female (B in the table)), with the Alexander tradition corrupting the latter to a rather greater degree than the Persian tradition does (story-type B is dissolved into B1 and B2). The focus of all three of these heroes’ traditions, those of Heracles, Alexander and Rostam, whether written in Greek or

Ferdowsi Shahnameh V.287–9 (1:378–81 Warner). Dr Baynham notes that in the real world mares are seldom protective of their colts once weaned. Amongst the feats attributed to the devoted Rakhsh are the following: he destroys a lion that attacks him (V.335–6, 2:34 Warner); he repeatedly and initially thanklessly warns the sleeping Rostam of an approaching fiery dragon, before helping him behead it (V.339–42, 2:48–50 Warner); he sires a colt for Rostam’s son Sohrab to make his own charger in turn (V.444–5, 2:128–9 Warner); wounded by Asfandiyár’s arrows, he finds his own way home and is eventually healed by the Símurgh bird, who draws the darts from his neck (V.1697–1704, 5:229–37 Warner); Rostam impetuously urges him on when he is treading cautiously to avoid pit-traps, and thus precipitates him into one, whereupon he is impaled below and dies, whilst Rostam himself is mortally wounded (V.1737, 5:270–1 Warner); it subsequently takes Farámarz two days to haul his great carcass out of the pit, after which he buries him in a tomb beside his master, who has died in the meantime (V.1742–3, 5:275–6 Warner). The notion that the faithful horse should die on the same day as his master is of course shared with the epsilon and gamma recensions of the Alexander Romance (see above). 52 Ferdowsi Shahnameh V.1777–C.1362 = 6:22–190 Warner. 51

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Persian, is the heart of Asia and we should conclude that that was the original and persistent home of the paired story-types.53

Archaeology of the Theft Story Within the Alexander Tradition Let us speculate – that is all we can do – about the archaeology of the theft/Amazon story (B1 + B2) in the Alexander tradition. As we have seen, the consonance of Diodorus, Curtius and Justin suggests that it already featured – in disaggregated form – in Clitarchus, and we know from independent fragments that he spoke of the Amazons anyway. What might Clitarchus’ sources have been in turn? Plutarch links Clitarchus’ Amazon information with four other writers: “The majority say that the Amazon queen came to him there, amongst whom are Clitarchus, Polyclitus, Onesicritus, Antigenes and Ister.”54 Clitarchus’ date remains contentious. I myself continue to favor the traditional dating of ca. 310 BC to the later 3rd-century BC dating suggested by one reconstruction of the dreadfully lacunose new papyrus.55 On this traditional dating, the only one of the four with a decisive claim to have written before Clitarchus is Onesicritus, given that Nearchus used (and corrected) him, whilst Clitarchus used Nearchus in turn.56 It is possible that Polyclitus and Antigenes also did so (we know too little of their dates of publication), but Ister could only have preceded Clitarchus on the lower dating of the latter. Amongst these four authors at any rate it is Onesicritus that looks like the best candidate for the invention of the theft/Amazon story for other reasons too.57 Plutarch also records here the well-known anecdote in accordance with which Onesicritus was reading out his account of Alexander’s encounter with the Amazon before the Successor Lysimachus, who proceeded to ask where he himself had been when this had happened. Onesicritus more generally had the name of being a fantasist, as we have noted at the start. We know that he had an interest in Bucephalas too, commenting as he did on his death in connection with the Battle of the Hydaspes.58 Did Onesicritus himself redeploy his Banyan trees for a description of the terrible Mardian forest that then passed into Clitarchus and Curtius?59 Did the theft/Amazon story appear in undisaggregated form in Onesicritus, i.e., did he have the Amazon queen stealing Bucephalas, only to The Alexander tradition is a partial exception here: although Bucephalas is stolen near Hyrcania, he has of course been tamed in Macedon. Asheri et al. (2007, 577–79) take the Heracles-Echidna story to be an essentially Greek tale customised with local Scythian color. 54 Plut. Alex. 46, incorporating Clitarchus BNJ 137 F15, Polyclitus BNJ 128 F8, Onesicritus BNJ 134 F1, Antigenes BNJ 141 F1, Ister BNJ 334 F26. The biographical essays appended to these various BNJ entries tell what can be known of these authors’ dates. 55 P.Oxy. 4808. Prandi 2012 (after 1996, 66–71) retains the high dating (cf. also the biographical essay appended to her BNJ entry on Clitarchus, BNJ 137). The later date is advocated by Parker 2009. 56 See Whitby in BNJ 133 (Nearchos), biographical essay. 57 See Pédech 1984, 87–89; Baynham 2001, 119. 58 Onesicritus BNJ 134 F20. 59 Onesicritus BNJ 134 F22. 53

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have Clitarchus disaggregate it, or did Onesicritus compose it already in disaggregated form, inspired, nonetheless by the broader (undisaggregated) story-type as found in Herodotus and no doubt many other sources available to him? In the former case in particular, one can well imagine that such a tale in undisaggregated form might be precisely the thing to provoke the chorus of disapproval, the lengthy list of ancient deniers of the Amazon encounter, which is also supplied to us by Plutarch.60 What of the Alexander-source usually of first resort here, Arrian? He offers only a reduced version of the story of the theft of the horse, in Book 5, this being told out of sequence and in retrospect in the subsequent context of the foundation of the city Bucephala. Arrian attributes the theft not to the Mardians (who lived on the southern shores of the Caspian), but to Uxians (who lived in the western Zagros). Alexander loses the horse in Uxian territory and proclaims that he will massacre every last Uxian, with the effect that the horse is restored to him immediately.61 Mardians may still lurk behind this narrative, however, because it is likely that a second race of this name lived adjacently to the Uxians.62 There are no Amazons here, but Arrian does mention them twice elsewhere. In Book 4 he tells that Alexander received a number of embassies in Hyrcania (NB). In one of these the king of the Scythians offered him his daughter in marriage, whilst in another Pharasmanes, king of the Chorasmians, offered to help Alexander to subdue his own neighbors, including the Amazons. Alexander politely declined both offers.63 In Book 7 he cites a story, which he himself disbelieves, that Atropates, the satrap of Media, presented Alexander with a hundred women on horseback in 324 BC and told him that they were Amazons. They had axes and shields and, perhaps, smaller right breasts exposed for battle. Alexander dismissed them lest the army should rape them, but sent with them a message for their queen, telling her that he would visit her to sire children. Even if Alexander had been presented with such a group of horsewomen, Arrian concludes, they could not have been Amazons.64 It has been suspected that the Scythian and Chorasmian embassies of Book 4 – offering between them the suggestion at any rate of an encounter with the Amazons on the one hand and the prospect of sex with a royal woman on the other – were the historical peg upon which the story of Thalestris was subsequently hung. There is a certain neat logic here. And indeed Plut. Alex. 46, incorporating Aristobulus (BNJ 139 F1), Chares (BNJ 125 F12), Ptolemy (BNJ 138 F28), Anticlides (BNJ 140 F12), Philon the Theban and Philip of Theangela, in addition to Hecataeus of Eretria, Philip of Chalcis and Duris of Samos (BNJ 76 F46). For one view of the anecdote see Brown 1949, 5–7. 61 Arr. Anab. 5.19.4–6. 62 Bosworth 1995, 314–15. 63 Arr. Anab. 4.15; an account of the Scythian king’s offer also at Curt. 8.1.9–10. Discussion at Bosworth 1995, 101–107; Baynham 2001, 119–22; I do not see the basis of the claim (102 and 122 respectively) that the Scythian king’s offer of marriage must have appeared in Clitarchus. 64 Arr. Anab. 7.13.2–3, also noting here that neither Ptolemy nor Aristobulus, his two favored authors, had endorsed any encounter of Alexander with the Amazons. Brunt (1976–1983, 2: 485) suspected this tale to be a late invention; cf. Baynham 2001, 121. 60

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it seems that this suspicion went back at least as far as Plutarch himself, given that he notes that in a supposed letter to Antipater Alexander himself had mentioned the Scythian king’s offer of his daughter, but had said nothing about any Amazon; Plutarch may have derived the point from Eratosthenes in turn.65 However, now that we see that the Amazon story (B2) really belongs side-by-side with the horse-theft story (B1), this seems a less likely point of origin. It is preferable to conclude that a version of the unified horse-theft/powerful-female story-type (pure B), with the Amazon queen in the role of horse-thief, entered the Alexander tradition at the earliest stage in all its fictive glory, whether through the medium of Onesicritus’ creative mind or otherwise, before being broken apart and rationalised in various ways and to various degrees. First the powerful female of the story-type – in this instance the Amazon queen – is separated from her horse-theft story (B goes into B1 and B2). Then she is reduced either to Atropates’ charade or to no more than a pair of messages from the kings of the Scythians and the Chorasmians. The stories of Atropates’ women and of the Scythian king’s offer may accordingly each represent less a historical origin-point for these tales than the end-points of the continuing process of their re-rationalisation.

Conclusion We complacently tend to think of the development of the Alexander tradition in terms of a gradual deterioration, corruption and transformation from a sober, rational and broadly true point of origin into an extravagantly and bizarrely fictive end-point. The pure sources of the Ptolemies, Aristobuluses and even (relatively speaking) the Clitarchuses merge, with only a slight admixture of murk, in the rivers of the legitimate Alexander historians, before these in turn plunge into the roiling ocean of the Alexander Romance. However, the troubling figure of the imaginative Onesicritus, as close to Alexander as Ptolemy, always did call this comfortable model into question. It gives pause for thought that the recovery of Alexander’s history is not always a matter of decoding and deconstructing the fantastical into the rational, the fictive into the true. Sometimes it is a matter of precisely the opposite operation: decoding and deconstructing the rational into the fantastical, the seemingly true into the truly fictive, before opening one’s hand and allowing it to vanish on the breeze.

A Note on Conventions in Relation to the Alexander Romance AR (A): T  he Greek Alexander Romance, MS A (α recension); early iii AD. Cited in accordance with the Kroll text, 1926, which also forms the basis, with slight modifications, of the Stoneman 2007 text; for a translation see Haight 1955. AR (ε): The Greek Alexander Romance, ε recension; ca. AD 700. Cited in accordance with the text of Trumpf 1974. 65

Plut. Alex. 46. Eratosthenes underlying: Bosworth 1995, 103. Plutarch is followed in this suspicion by Hamilton 1969, 123–27 and Baynham 2001, 119.

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AR (γ): T  he Greek Alexander Romance, γ recension; viii AD or later. Cited in accordance with the text of Parthe 1969 (Book iii only). AR (Syr.): The Syriac Alexander Romance (δ recension); vii AD. Cited in accordance with the Budge translation, 1889, which also supplies the text. AR (Eth.): The Ethiopic Alexander Romance; xiv AD. Cited in accordance with the Budge translation, 1896.

Other Abbreviations ANRW BNJ DNP FGrH IG LIMC

Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt. Berlin, 1972– Worthington 2012– Der neue Pauly. Stuttgart, 1996–2003 Jacoby et al. 1923– Inscriptiones Graecae. Berlin, 1903– Kahil et al. 1981–99

Bibliography

Anderson, A.R. (1929) Bucephalas meets Alexander: an emendation of Historia Alexandri Magni (Pseudo-Callisthenes) I.17. American Journal of Philology 50, 193–95. Anderson, A.R. (1930) Bucephalas and his legend. American Journal of Philology 51, 1–21. Asheri, D., Lloyd, A.B. and Corcella, A. (2007) A Commentary on Herodotus Books I–IV. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Revised and re-edited version of Asheri et al. Erodoto: le Storie. i–iv. Milan, 1989–93. Badian, E. (1997) Bucephalas, Bukephalos. Der Neue Pauly 2, 827. Baynham, E.J. (1995) Who put the “romance” in the Alexander Romance? Ancient History Bulletin 9, 1–13. Baynham, E.J. (2001) Alexander and the Amazons. Classical Quarterly 51, 115–26. Bosworth, A.B. (1995) A Historical Commentary on Arrian’s History of Alexander. Vol.  2. Oxford, Clarendon Press. Brown, T.S. (1949) Onesicritus. A Study in Hellenistic Historiography. Berkeley, University of California Press. Brunt, P.A. (1976–1983) Arrian. History of Alexander and Indica. 2  vols. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press. Budge, E.A.W. (1889) The History of Alexander the Great, Being the Syriac Version of the Pseudo-Callisthenes. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Budge, E.A.W. (1896) The Life and Exploits of Alexander the Great. A Series of Translations of the Ethiopic Histories of Alexander by the Pseudo-Callisthenes and Other Writers. London, C. J. Clay and Sons. Chandezon, C. (2010) Bucéphale et Alexandre: histoire, imaginaire et images de rois et chevaux. In A. Gadeisen, E. Furet and N. Boulbes (eds) Histoire d’équides. Des textes, des images et des os, 177–96. Lattes, Éditions de l’Association pour le développement de l’archéologie en Languedoc-Rousillon. Cohen, A. (1997) The Alexander Mosaic. Stories of Victory and Defeat. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Davis, D. (trans.) (2006) Albolqasem Ferdowsi. Shahnameh, The Persian Book of Kings. New York, Penguin Books.

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Erickson, K. (2013) Seleucus I, Zeus and Alexander. In L. Mitchell and C. Melville (eds) Every Inch a King, 109–28. Leiden, Brill. Fraser, P.M. (1996). The Cities of Alexander the Great. Oxford, Clarendon Press. Frazier, F. (1992) Contribution à l’étude de la composition des “Vies” de Plutarque: l’elaboration des grandes scènes. Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt 2.33.6, 4487–4535. Georgoudi, S. (1990) Des Chevaux et des bœufs dans le monde grec. Paris, Daedalus. Greenwalt, W.S. (2002) A Macedonian counterpart to the Thracian rider: Alexander and Bucephalas. In A. Fol (ed.) Thrace and the Aegean: Proceedings of the Eighth International Congress of Thracology, 1: 281–91. 2  vols. Sofia, International Foundation Europa Antiqua: Institute of Thracology, Bulgarian Academy of Sciences Press. Greenwalt, W.S. (2016) Bucephalas the hero. In W.L. Adams, D.A. Powers, J.G. Hawke and J. Langford (eds) Hetairideia. Studies in Honor of W. Lindsay Adams on the Occasion of his Retirement, 29–41. Chicago, Ares. Haight, E.H. (trans.) (1955) The Life of Alexander of Macedon by Pseudo-Callisthenes. New York, Longmans, Green. Hamilton, J.R. (1965) Alexander’s Early Life. Greece & Rome 12, 117–24. Hamilton, J.R. (1969) Plutarch. Alexander. A Commentary. Oxford, Clarendon Press. Hamilton, J.R. (1973) Alexander the Great. London, Hutchinson. Heckel, W. (2006) Who’s Who in the Age of Alexander the Great. Oxford and Malden, MA, Wiley-Blackwell. Houghton, A. and Lorber, C.C. (2002–2008) Seleucid Coins: A Comprehensive Catalogue. 2 vols. Lancaster, PA, American Numismatic Society. Houghton, A. and Stewart, A. (1999) Alexander the great on a tetradrachm of Seleucus I. Swiss Numismatic Review 78, 27–35. Iossif, P.P. (2012) Les “cornes” des Séleucides: vers une divinisation “discrète.” In F. Duyrat and A. Suspène (eds). Le Charaktèr du Prince: expressions monétaires du pouvoir en temps de troubles, 43–147. Cahiers des études anciennes 49. Ottawa, University of Ottawa. Jacoby, F. et al. (eds) (1923–) Die Fragmente der griechischen Historiker. Multiple volumes and parts. Berlin and Leiden, Brill. Jouanno, C. (2002) Naissance et métamorphose du Roman d’Alexandre: Domaine grec. Paris: CNRS Editions. Kaerst, J. (1897) Bukephalas. RE 3, 995. Kahil, L. et al. (eds) (1981–99) Lexicon iconographicum mythologiae classicae. 9 vols. in 18 pts. Zurich and Munich, Artemis. Khaleghi-Motlagh, D. (ed.) (1988–2008). Abu al-Qasim Firdawsi. Shahnameh (The Book of Kings). 8 vols. New York, Bibliotheca Persica. Kroll, J.H. (1977) An archive of the Athenian cavalry. Hesperia 46, 83–140. Kroll, W. (1926) Historia Alexandri Magni (Pseudo-Callisthenes). i. Recensio vetusta. Berlin, Weidmann. Kuehn, S. (2011) The Dragon in Medieval East Christian and Islamic Art. Leiden, Brill. Lane Fox, R. (1973) Alexander the Great. London, Allen Lane. Miller, R.P. and Walters, K.R. (2004) Seleucid coinage and the legend of horned Bucephalas. Swiss Numismatic Review 83, 45–55. Nawotka, K. (2017) The Alexander Romance by Ps.-Callisthenes. Leiden, Brill. Ogden, D. (2011) Alexander the Great: Myth, Genesis and Sexuality. Exeter, University of Exeter Press. Ogden, D. (2017) The Legend of Seleucus. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Parker, V. (2009) Source–critical reflections on Cleitarchus’ work. In P. Wheatley and R. Hannah (eds) Alexander and his Successors. Essays from the Antipodes, 28–55. Claremont, CA, Regina Books. Parthe, F. (1969) Der griechische Alexanderroman. Rezension γ. Buch III. Beiträge zur klassischen Philologie 33. Meisenheim am Glan, Hain. Pédech, P. (1984) Historiens compagnons d’Alexandre. Paris, Belles Lettres.

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Prandi, L. (1996) Fortuna e realtà dell’ opera di Clitarco. Historia Einzelschriften 106. Stuttgart, F. Steiner. Prandi, L. (2012) New evidence for the dating of Cleitarchus? Histos 6, 12–26. P’yankov, I.V. (2006) Scythian genealogical legend in ‘Rustamiada.’ In M. Compareti, P. Raffetta and G. Scarcia (eds) Ērān ud Anērān: Studies Presented to Boris Il’ič Maršak on the Occasion of His 70th Birthday, 505–12. Venice, Cafoscarina. Radet, G. (1941) Notes sur l’histoire d’Alexandre, ix. Revue des Études Anciennes 43, 33–40. Stadter, P.A. (1996) Anecdotes and the thematic structure of Plutarchean biography. In J.A. Fernández Delgado and F. Pordomingo Pardo (eds) Estudios sobre Plutarco: Aspectos formales, 291–304. Actas del iv Simposio Español sobre Plutarco. Madrid, Clásicas. Sternbach, L. (1894) Excerpta Vaticana. Wiener Studien 16, 8–37. Stewart, A.F. (1993) Faces of Power: Alexander’s Image and Hellenistic Politics. Berkeley, University of California Press. Stewart, A.F. (2003) Alexander in Greek and Roman art. In J. Roisman (ed.) Brill’s Companion to Alexander the Great, 31–66. Leiden, Brill. Stoneman, R. (2007–) Il Romanzo di Alessandro. 3 vols. Milan, Mondadori. Stoneman, R. (2008) Alexander the Great. A Life in Legend. New Haven, Yale University Press. Trumpf, J. (1974) Anonymi Byzantini vita Alexandri regis Macedonum. Stuttgart, B.G. Teubner. Ustinova, Y. (2005) Snake-limbed and tendril-limbed goddesses in the art and mythology of the Mediterranean and the Black Sea. In D.B. Braund (ed.) Scythians and Greeks. Cultural Interactions in Scythia, Athens and the Early Roman Empire (Sixth Century BC – First Century AD), 64–79. Exeter, University of Exeter Press. Warner, A.G. and Warner, E. (trans.) (1912) The Sháhnáma of Firdausí. 9 vols. London, K. Paul, Trench, Trübner & Co. Ltd. Whitmarsh, T. (2002) Alexander’s Hellenism and Plutarch’s textualism. Classical Quarterly 52, 174–92. Worthington, I. (ed.) (2012–) Brill’s New Jacoby. Leiden, Brill. (Online resource.)

PART II The Extended Oikos Friendship within the Oikos

Chapter 10 Alexander’s Friends

Joseph Roisman Friends as individuals and friendship as an institution had a considerable impact on the social, political, military and cultural realities of Alexander’s reign and campaign. The purpose of the chapter is to introduce readers to the subject through a discussion of selected aspects of Alexander’s relationships with his friends. They include the nature of the evidence for Alexander’s friends; what his friendships meant in light of Aristotle’s discussion of philia (friendship and love); and the creation, termination and revival of friendship among Alexander and his Macedonian friends. Can kings have friends? Real friends? Aristotle didn’t think so. For him equality was a primary quality of friendship, and it was impossible to be equal to a sole ruler, not to mention a very powerful one.1 Nevertheless, Alexander the Great had many friends at home, in camp and in foreign lands. His cavalry was called the Companions and his infantry, Foot-Companions. Friends commanded his army and protected, supported and advised him. They entertained him, kept him informed and provided him with a variety of services. They also manipulated and threatened him. Scholars of ancient friendship and of Alexander have investigated selective aspects of his friendships, but, to the best of my knowledge, no one has subjected them to a focused, comprehensive examination. My effort in that direction is currently a work in progress, of which this chapter is a preliminary product of much narrower scope. It deals with the nature of the evidence for Alexander’s friends, the meaning of his friendships in light of Aristotle’s

1

See further below (Aristotle). I am grateful to the honorand for her studies of Macedonian social history, which have been immensely helpful to the present and earlier investigations.

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discussion of philia (friendship and love), and the creation, termination and revival of friendship among Alexander and his Macedonian friends.2

Identifying Friends Our Greek and Roman sources use a variety of terms to describe Alexander’s friends and friendship in his reign generally. The most common are philoi (friends), hetairoi (Companions) and amici (friends). Less frequent are “guest-friends” and “personal friends/guests” (xenoi, idioxenoi), and descriptors such as “loyal” (pistos), “close” (epitedeios), “intimate” (synhethes) and “dear” (carus). The designations may be used interchangeably and applied to a wide and not very well-defined category. Alexander’s friends, however, were not distinguished from non-friends by the official title of “friend,” philos, which came into such specialized use in later times. G. Herman thought, however, that “friends” in the technical, institutional sense of a rank and title dated back to Alexander and even earlier. His best proof is the testimonies of Athenaeus, based on Chares, and of Aelian on the mass weddings in Susa. These authors call the grooms who married Asian wives alongside Alexander “philoi,” and those whom the king invited to the celebration, and who reclined across from the husbands, idioxenoi, or personal guest-friends. The sources, Herman argued, thus make a distinction between formal friends and informal, personal friends.3 In fact the sources distinguish between friends not on the basis of their status but according to the role they played in weddings, of bridegrooms on the one hand and personal guests on the other; the guest-friends among the latter have better claim to the institutional title than the former. More importantly, the sources’ terms for friends reflect their individual choice of words rather than an official designation.4 The bridegrooms in Susa are called philoi, friends, by Athenaeus/Chares (Athen.12.538b-539a = Chares BNJ 125 F 4), Diodorus (17.107.6; which is his normal usage for any friend), and Aelian (VH 8.7); hetairoi, Companions, by Arrian (7.7.4–6, his normal usage for friends); both hetairoi and philoi by Plutarch (70); closest friends, proximi amicorum, by Curtius (10.3.12), and optimates Macedoni, Macedonian noblemen, by Justin (12.10.9–10). There is no reason to prefer one designation to others as the friend’s official title, which did not exist in Alexander’s court. Indeed, terms for friends such as Justin’s “optimates” (noblemen; 12.10.10) or Curtius’ porpurati, courtiers (3.6.4, 12.6), reflect these Roman authors’ cultural and political world rather than Alexander’s. The few cases where

Friendship in Classical and Hellenistic times: Corradi 1929; Mooren 1975; Herman 1980–81; 1997; Le Bohec 1985; Konstan 1995; 1997; 2018, 31–60; Savalli-Lestrade 1998. Studies of Alexander’s friends tend to focus on the Companions, hetairoi: below. For friends in Alexander’s court, see n. 5. 3 Herman 1980–81, 110–12; 1987, 11–12; cf. Weber 2009, 85. 4 In the following, unless specified otherwise, all references to Arrian are to his Anabasis, and all references to Plutarch are to his Alexander. 2

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“friend” has a formal meaning seem to reflect later Hellenistic usage, and they all involve the introduction of foreign dignitaries into the rank.5 The designation synthrophos, i.e., a man who grew up with Alexander and accompanied him since childhood, raises similar difficulties. Although it is common to identify a number of Alexander’s prominent friends as his synthrophoi, the evidence for the designation is late and possibly retrojects Hellenistic terms into Alexander’s age. More significantly, the number of individuals explicitly called Alexander’s synthrophoi is small. They include Leonnatus (Suda s.v. Leonnatus); Marsyas of Pella (Suda s.v. Marsyas); Proteas, son of Lanice (Aelian VH 12.26); Hephaestion (Curt. 3.12.16); and possibly Nicanor of Stageira (Stephanus of Byzantium, s.v. Meiza), and as a group: Plut. Moral. 199d. Only one of them, Leonnatus, attained prominence early in the campaign. Apparently, it took more than sharing youth with Alexander to become his close friend or be appointed to an important position.6 The official designation of kinsmen (syngenes, sg.) is even less common for Alexander’s friends. It is associated with no individual but with a status group modelled after the noblemen of the Persian court, and it was introduced by Alexander only in 324, as a means of putting down the mutinied army.7 It seems clear that the sources use the term “friend” quite freely. In some cases, Alexander’s fellow-banqueteers are called friends, even though their identity is uncertain and they could have been merely guests. The sources may also introduce friends into the narrative for literary purposes, as when they use them, like a chorus in Greek tragedy, to reflect and comment on the actions of the protagonist, Alexander.8 Alternatively, the ancient authors may fail to identify a person as a friend. This is the case with Plutarch regarding Leonnatus, whom Alexander sent to tell the royal captive women that Darius survived the Battle of Issus. He is elsewhere called a friend of Alexander, but Plutarch uses his name alone.9 Arrian is negligent in a different way, failing to call Alexander, son of Aeropus, and Apollodorus of Amphipolis “Companions”

For no “official” friends before Alexander, see also Paschidis 2006, 254; Strootman 2014, 95. Formal Hellenistic philoi: Le Bohec 1985; Konstan 1997, 96; Meissner 2000, 31; Ma 2011, 526. Foreign friends: e.g., Abdalonymus (Diod. 17.47.1–6; Plut. Moral. 340d); Oxyathres (Plut. Alex. 43: hetairos; Curt. 6.2.11; 7.5.40); or Porus (Curt.8.14.45). “Friends of the king and Antipater” in a 338– (or) 322 Athenian honorary decree is not a formal title, certainly not “friends of Antipater”: IG I3 1.484; Paschidis (2008, 37–39), however, regards them as semi-officials. Calling communities or people friends, e.g., the Celts (Arr. 1.4.8; cf. Strabo 7.3.8), is in a different category. 6 Alexander’s synthrophoi: Heckel 1985; Carney 2003, 57–59. Hellenistic synthrophoi: Strootman 2014, 168. There is no evidence that synthrophoi were bound together by a lifelong moral obligation: Strootman 2014, 142–43. Müller (2018, 79, 82, 85–86, 91) argues that Hephaestion’s boyhood friendship with Alexander is a literary fiction. 7 Arr. 7.11.1–7; Roisman 2012, 53, 55. Hellenistic “kinsmen”: Strootman 2014, 168. 8 Friends or guests: Curt. 8.1.44; Plut. 70. Friends as commentators: Curt. 9.5.1, 29; 10.1.6; Diod. 17.56.1–4. 9 Plut. 21, as opposed to Arr. 2.12.5: “Companion”; Diod. 17.37.3: “friend”; Curt. 3.12.7: “Courtier”. 5

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when he first mentions them, though he does so later in the narrative.10 One wonders how many other friends didn’t get a second chance at the designation. Yet these are correctible examples, unlike the Cyprian king Pnytagoras. He changed sides from Darius to Alexander after Issus, helped Alexander militarily in the siege of Tyre, and was rewarded with gifts and a town, while his son joined the campaign and was a trierarch in the fleet that sailed down the Hydaspes. Even though Pnytagoras had common characteristics of a royal friend and very likely was one, he was not named as such.11 An even more blatant omission is Gorgos of Iasos. Epigraphical and other evidence tells of his rendering help to Samos and Epidaurus in Alexander’s court. He is described as someone who spent time with Alexander, loyally served a divine-like king, flattered him, gave him gold, and promised to help him with arms and equipment if he put Athens under siege. Gorgos appears to have been a friend of the king in all but name, though never identified as one. Even his characterization as a flatterer suggests as much, in view of the common derogation of friendship with the king into flattery.12 Conversely, Diodorus (17.79.1) appears to misidentify Dimnus, who plotted against Alexander, as one of the king’s friends. Both Curtius (6.7.2) and Plutarch (49) agree that Dimnus was a man of slight significance, a circumstance that strongly argues against his being a royal friend. In short, it is best not to assume Alexander’s friends were granted official status, but to acknowledge the sources’ freedom to use or ignore the designation. Although the evidence for Alexander’s friends is problematic, it provides useful information about institutional categories among them. Philoi in Diodorus, hetairoi in Arrian, both terms in Plutarch, and amici in the Latin sources, often refer to the king’s Companions.13 Because Alexander’s Companions have been well studied, it suffices to note here that they constituted a status group whose origins preceded Alexander, including noble Macedonians and elite men of non-Macedonian background. The king controlled admission to and exit from the Companions and assigned their military commands and ranks. He also used them in non-military capacities such as administration, diplomacy and advising, and socialized with them in the hunt and the banquet.14 More distant from the king were the so-called Foot-Companions among the infantry, just behind the cavalry Companions. In contrast, a highly selective group of seven to eight personal Bodyguards (somatophylakes) were close friends whose main duty was to protect the king, and who would lose their high status when given positions away Arr. 1.17.7–8, 25.1 (Alexander); 3.16.4; 7.18.1 (Apollodorus). Duris BNJ 76 F4; Heckel 2006, 224; Herman (1987, 108) thinks he was Alexander’s ritualized friend. 12 Gorgos: Rhodes and Osborne 2003, n. 90; Ephippus BNJ 126 F 5 (who calls Gorgos an arm-dealer (hoplophylax). Degrading friendship as flattery: e.g. Arr. 4.8.3; Plut. 52; Moral. 65c–e; Herman 1980–81, 118–22. 13 In Arrian, hetairoi and philoi are interchangeable only in 1.24.5, and 4.9.2; while Diodorus used hetairoi only twice: 17.77.5, 100.2. 14 Companions: Carrata Thomes 1955; Stagagkis 1970; Hammond in Hammond and Griffith 1979, 2, 152; Hatzopoulos 1996, 1, 334–59; King 2010, 383–84. 10 11

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from him. Special units within the hypaspists (elite infantry unit) and the cavalry were also called bodyguards and functioned as such, but Alexander’s interaction with them normally did not extend beyond the military sphere.15

The Meaning of Friendship What did friendship with Alexander mean to him, to his friends and to his contemporaries? Broadly speaking Alexander’s friends were expected to be personally loyal to him and he to them, though not necessarily to the same degree. The marks of friendship and its level included physical proximity and access to Alexander’s person, spending time with him, and direct interactions that were primarily functional, or social, or a combination of both. The relationship might involve gift exchange and distribution. Equally, if not more important, was what Alexander and his friends felt about each other. Some of these and additional relevant aspects are found in Aristotle’s discussion of friendship. The philosopher, who tutored the young prince, wrote extensively about the subject of philia, and his observations draw attention to important components of the concept. Aristotle regards equality as an essential element of friendship. Equality stands behind friends’ voluntary choice of each other and their expectation that the relationship be mutually beneficial, pleasant and virtuous. Unlike modern interpreters who emphasize either the utilitarian or the affective character of Greek friendship, Aristotle sees equal validity in both. He notes that a stable, lasting friendship requires time and intimacy that allow the parties to know and trust each other. In the admittedly rare case of “perfect” friendship, friends have to be good men in order to be good friends and to wish their friends well for the friends’ sake. A virtuous friend regards a friend as a second self and feels toward him as he feels about himself. However, when the disparity in the relationship is too wide – in power, wealth or other qualities – there cannot be friendship. Aristotle recognizes the existence of friendship between a king and his subjects, but stresses its unequal nature. Reciprocity is uneven, and the king shows his superiority through benefitting and caring for his people, but receives more affection than he gives. Aristotle even implies that friendship can be a threat to monarchy, because it suggests a similarity and equality that undermine the principle of royal superiority. Yet the monarch needs and searches for friends, whom Aristotle commonly divides into those deemed useful and others who bring the ruler pleasure.16 Applying Aristotle’s analysis to Alexander’s friendships helps to clarify their nature. His relationships were unequal in their inception, because he had greater 15 16

Heckel 1986; 2016, 243–59. The summary is based on Aristotle’s discussion of friendship in the Nicomachean Ethics and the Eudemian Ethics, especially EN 1115b, 1158a–1159a, 1161a10–15, 1165b, 1170b–71a; EE 1237a–b. See also Politics 1287b29–36; Rhet. 2.4.1–27. Aristotle and friendship: e.g., Konstan 1997, esp. 72–78; Pangle 2003. Konstan emphasizes the affective nature of Greek friendship and Herman 1980–81; 1987, its instrumentality: n. 2 above. For the coexistence of both functions, see, e.g., Mitchell 1997, 8–9. See also Strootman 2014, 147.

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freedom than his counterparts to choose his friends. Like Aristotle, the sources on Alexander find nothing demeaning or wrong in being the king’s unequal friend (unless the friendship was self-serving and led to corruption).17 Aristotle’s observation about the unequal exchange of favors with a king is pertinent to the nexus of friendship, superiority and generosity in Alexander’s relationships. In Alexander’s contacts with groups or peoples in and away from Macedonia, we may see the truth of Aristotle’s contention that friendship is diluted or made impossible by the possession of many friends. In fact, calling the cavalry “Companions” and the infantry “Foot-Companions” were attempts to use imagined friendship to bridge the gulf separating king and subjects.18 Aristotle’s suggestion that the quality of friendship is affected by physical proximity and shared time is relevant to the ranking of Alexander’s friends by these criteria and to their competition for his attention. Aristotle’s view of a true friend as a second self is useful in understanding Alexander’s relationship with his closest friend, Hephaestion. Finally, although Aristotle regarded flatterers as false friends, the sources’ hostile designation of poets and other members of the court as such often concealed the fact that they contributed to Alexander’s pleasure and shared his time and social activities, and hence deserve inclusion in the category of royal friends. The application of Aristotle’s analysis to Alexander and his friends is not without its limitations. The philosopher’s division of royal friends into useful and pleasing is too deterministic and compartmentalized, because he believes that only a few people could be both. Arrian’s refrain that friends gave Alexander the gifts they considered most valuable raises the possibility that the king actually received greater rewards than he gave.19 More important, Aristotle (along with many modern readers) pays little attention to the unstable nature of friendship. Alexander reportedly told Hephaestion that he was Alexander’s equal in 333, only to rebuke him a few years later with the reminder that he was nothing without the king’s favor.20 The same friends of Alexander’s who participated in such shared pursuits as royal hunts and banquets that included elements of equality also attended royal weddings and audiences with clear hierarchical characteristics. In other words, friendship’s complexity and variety of contexts do not always accommodate its simple classification into equal and unequal or instrumental and affective kinds. In addition, Aristotle’s greater interest in equal friendship leads him to neglect significant aspects of the unequal kind. He alludes only to the sort of royal friendship involving personal loyalty to the king, and says nothing about friendship with foreign leaders and communities. With awareness of the merits and limitations of Aristotle’s discussion of friendship, the following sections treat aspects of its meaning that relate to Alexander’s Yet Curtius composed an address to Alexander by the Scythians, who insisted that strong friendship depended on equality between the partners: 7.8.27–30. 18 Having many friends: EN 9.1171a1–20; Konstan 1997, 64–65. Companions: above. 19 Arr. 1.5.4; 4.15.1–6; 6.15.5–7. 20 Arr. 2.12.3–8; Pl. 47. And see more examples of friendship broken and restored, below. 17

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commencing, ending and destabilizing friendships with Macedonians and Greeks in his court and camp.

Making and Ending Friendship How did a person become Alexander’s friend? There were conducive circumstances such as long acquaintance, inherited connections to Philip’s friends, social and political considerations, and shared experiences from sport to parties and fighting. Yet such origins of friendship are more often conjectured than directly attested.21 It is possible to see the formation of friendship with non-Macedonians, including inherited or acquired xenoi and proxenoi (guest-friends),22 and individuals and peoples whom Alexander met on campaign. The latter often initiated the relationship by approaching the king with an offer of friendship, which he accepted or, less commonly, declined. Their goal was less to become his friends than to ensure that he would not make war on them. There might be an exchange of gifts and promises between the new partners, often with little effort to cultivate the relationship actively.23 But what about Alexander’s Macedonian friends? While we are relatively well informed about the identity and career of many of them, the evidence for Alexander’s creation of new friendship with his countrymen rests on just a few examples.24 One involves Amyntas, son of Andromenes, and his brothers. He was a noble Macedonian, who commanded infantry units and performed other duties before he and his brothers were put on trial for alleged complicity in the so-called Philotas conspiracy. (They were acquitted.) The brothers were among Philotas’ closest friends, and reportedly owed their important positions to his influence and strong recommendation (Curt. 7.1.10–11). Curtius Rufus is the only historian who purports to produce Amyntas’ defense speech, which includes the argument that he and his brothers eagerly sought Philotas’ friendship because Alexander ranked and honored Philotas’ father, Parmenion, above all others. The brothers looked to benefit from their friendship with Philotas, and indeed they became Alexander’s friends thanks to Philotas’ recommendation (Curt. 7.1.26–30). One wishes that the evidence for Amyntas’ claim was better. His friendship with Philotas is confirmed by Arrian (3.27.1), but no other source mentions that it led to friendship with Alexander. The rhetorical context of the information casts doubt on it. Curtius probably invented Amyntas’ speech, including the strategy of turning Amyntas’ liability as Philotas’ friend into his best defense and Alexander’s fault. Amyntas’ speech in Curtius is even more suspicious in its resemblance in rhetoric, wording and even circumstances to M. Terentius’ For example, only Parmenion and Eumenes are identified explicitly as Philip’s former friends: Curt. 7.1.3; Plut. Eumenes 1; Arr. 3.26.1. 22 Berve 1926, 1, 162; Herman 1987, 86, 122, 154; Mitchell 1997, 168. 23 See, e.g. Arr. 1.4.6–8, 28.1–2; 4.1.1–2. 24 Justin’s description 13.1.10–15, of Philip’s and Alexander’s selection of friends based on their personal attributes is limited to the future Successors and is thoroughly anachronistic. 21

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defense speech in Tacitus. Terentius similarly evoked instrumental motives to justify his friendship with the ruler’s favorite, Sejanus, who, like Philotas, was condemned for plotting against the crown. Yet even if Amyntas’ words cannot be authenticated, his reference to the process of “a friend bringing a friend” is less controversial. It suggests that Alexander relied on established friends, in this case Parmenion and Philotas, to recruit new ones, and so enlarged his circle of friends.25 The best-known case of making friends with Alexander involves Peucestas. He was a Macedonian, possibly a nobleman, with an unimpressive career before he attained prominence for saving Alexander’s life in India. In 325 Alexander was severely wounded after rushing into combat inside an Indian Malli town. The sources agree that Peucestas was among the men who defended the injured king, and (mostly) that the Bodyguard Leonnatus was also present, but they differ about the names of other defenders. Peucestas was later crowned for courageously saving the king, and Alexander even raised the traditional number of seven Bodyguards to eight in order to include Peucestas. Shortly thereafter, the king made him satrap of Persis, and Arrian thought that Alexander made him a Bodyguard first so that he could “enjoy the honor and mark of trust, because of his exploit among the Mallians.”26 A close reading of the ancient accounts of Alexander’s injury and rescue shows that he really owed his life to the troops who stormed the city and slaughtered its defenders. The men who stood around and protected the king only provided him with a short respite and in fact were themselves saved by the army’s onslaught, which decided the fighting. Yet considerations of class, politics and ideology favored notable individuals with royal and public recognition as “first responders.” But why was Peucestas singled out for preferential treatment? In addition to his deserved credit for protecting the king, he also enjoyed Alexander’s personal affection, as expressed in the king’s letters to him. Equally significant was Peucestas’ enthusiastic support of Alexander’s inclusive policy towards the Iranians, which some elite Macedonians disliked, but that Peucestas favored probably even before his satrapal appointment. These facts modify the view that Alexander resented, as a threat to his arete, those who tried to save his life in the hunt or war. It was not that Alexander hated being saved, but that he liked some saviors more than others, such as Clitus. Peucestas was also fully dependent on him, and his meteoric rise to the status of a trusted loyalist,

Tacitus Annales 6.8.1–4. Amyntas’ and Terentius’ speeches: Atkinson 1994, 252–53; Baynham 1998, 52, 182. Heckel (1994, 69–70, 76–77 n. 8) regards Amyntas’ speech as rhetorical fabrication, but his friendships as historical. 26 Arr. 10.6.28.3–4; LCL trans., slightly modified. Peucestas’ career and heroism: Berve 1926, 2, 318–19; Heckel 2006, 329–30, n. 550; 2016, 115–16. In spite of Arrian’s qualification, there is no good reason to dispute Leonnatus’ defense: Arr. 6.11.7; Heckel 1992, 101. The battle and injury: Bosworth 1996, 133–43. 25

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a Bodyguard and an important administrator demonstrates the king’s power to pick and privilege a friend.27 A story about a Greek soldier similarly suggests that shared views and demonstrative support of the king could result in his friendship. Arrian, following Nearchus, reports that Alexander’s friends admonished him for impetuously joining the assault on the Malli town that resulted in his grave injury. They told him it was not the job of a general, but of a simple soldier, to put himself in danger by attacking at the head of his army. Their public criticism offended Alexander, but he only sulked in reaction, grudgingly acknowledging the right of royal friends to offer constructive criticism. (Arrian explains that he knew they were right.) Then an anonymous old soldier from Boeotia, of the type Alexander’s friends had disdainfully contrasted with a general, praised the king’s action as manly or courageous, adding a poetic proverb about how suffering was the price of doing. The remark gained him Alexander’s esteem and afterwards his close friendship. It is hard to agree with the view that Nearchus and Arrian criticized Alexander’s recklessness and presented the soldier as a flatterer. Arrian actually uses the story to balance his criticism of Alexander, while Arrian’s source, Nearchus, appears to disagree with Alexander’s friends, who, unlike the simple-minded Boeotian, did not understand their king. Alexander’s close friendship with the Boeotian thus constituted a criticism of his other friends. It also showed how a man could win royal friendship by supporting the king in a controversy, admiring instead of disrespecting his actions, and seeing eye to eye with him on matters that were close to his heart, such as the importance of courage in battle.28 Admittedly, stories of Alexander’s friendship with men such as Peucestas and the Boeotian are rare. The evidence for Macedonians’ soliciting his friendship is even more meager and suggestive. Arrian and Aelian record a tradition that Alexander crowned Achilles’ tomb at Troy in 334, while Hephaestion crowned Patroclus’ tomb. It has been argued, however, that the stories about their self-likening to the Homeric heroes are late and unhistorical; Arrian’s qualification of the Trojan episode with “it is told” suggests that it lacked the authority of Ptolemy and Aristobulus. Hephaestion is also known to have attained prominence and meaningful dealings with Alexander only later, after the battle of Issus (333) and perhaps as late as Gaugamela (331). I share some of the doubts but believe that rejecting the tale just because it is recorded by sources other than Ptolemy and Aristobulus is unjustified and would result, if applied elsewhere, in discrediting otherwise reliable parts of Alexander’s history. Alexander and Hephaestion’s gestures made cultural, political and maybe even personal sense, Letters to Peucestas: Plut. 41–42, who describes Peucestas as Alexander’s intimate friend. Alexander’s resentment of saviors: Carney 2015, 265–81. 28 Arr. 6.13.4–6 = Nearchus BNJ 133 F 2. The soldier’s proverb went back to Aeschylus (fr. 444 N) and/ or Sophocles (fr. 209 N). The sources’ criticism of Alexander: Bosworth 1996, 61–62. The story is anecdotal, and see Roisman 2015, 78, and Heitmann-Gordon, 2017, 190–92, in defense of using such material. Briant (2015, 435–40) frames the story within ancient criticism of generals who sacrifice collective responsibility for personal heroism. 27

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and need not be blown up into Achillean worship or imitation. Hephaestion’s honoring of Patroclus may have been a response to Alexander’s reported complaint that he had no Homer to sing his fame and no faithful friend. It did not mean that he and Alexander were as close at Troy as they would become later. By crowning Patroclus’ tomb, Hephaestion signaled to Alexander that he was ready to become his best and most loyal friend. It was up to Alexander to accept the offer.29 Another attempt to become Alexander’s friend is suggested by the conduct of the Macedonian or Greek Cebalinus in what is known as the Philotas affair. Cebalinus learned from his brother about a conspiracy against Alexander’s life. The brothers could not get an audience with the king because they were low in status and not his friends. Cebalinus stood at the entrance to the royal tent and waited for someone who belonged to what Curtius Rufus calls the “first cohort of friends” to lead him to Alexander. It happened to be Philotas, who promised to deliver the message to the king, but didn’t. For two days Cebalinus pressed Philotas to tell Alexander, but to no avail. He then approached the young noble Page, Metron, who informed the king of the plot. Alexander at first suspected Cebalinus of disloyalty for delaying the report, but Cebalinus vehemently denied it and faulted Philotas, who consequently was charged and executed for conspiring against the king.30 Except for Diodorus (17.97.1–3), who claims that Cebalinus feared that another plotter would be the first to tell the king, all other sources say nothing about his motives but seem to assume, as do many of their modern readers, that his conduct was expected and self-explanatory. It seems, however, that Cebalinus wanted to become Alexander’s friend, since he displayed, even according to Diodorus, important characteristics and expectations of a royal friend. He persisted in seeking access to the king’s person. Alexander’s friends were supposed to tell him what they heard and saw, and Cebalinus provided Alexander with information essential to his safety. Like a good friend, he showed him loyalty and did him a service. It is a pity that the sources lose interest in Cebalinus and fail to tell if he became the king’s friend or how Alexander treated him afterwards.31 The sorry state of the evidence about the creation of friendship with Alexander has encouraged scholars to fill the gap. They suggest a social and institutional ladder, a sort of Macedonian cursus honorum, leading elite males to closeness with the king. It started with the institution of the baslikoi paides, literarily and figuratively royal boys, though commonly translated as Pages. They were sons of nobles and other elites and Companions, who between the ages of about 13 to 20 resided in and around the royal Honoring the heroes: Arr. 1.12.1; Aelian VH 12.7; cf. Plut. 15; Diod. 17.17.3; Just. 11.5.12. Alexander’s complaint: Plut. 15; Cic. Pro Archia 24. His emulation of Achilles: e.g. Ameling 1988; Briant 2018 (qualified). Rejecting or doubting Hephaestion’s gesture: Perrin 1895, 26 (56–68), 58; Bosworth 1980–95, 1, 103–104; Müller 2011; 2012; Heckel 2015, 21–22. See also Maitland 2015. Heckel (2015) is willing to accept Alexander’s honorary gesture but not Hephaestion’s. 30 Curt. 6.7.16–28; Diod. 17.79.1–6; Plut. 49. Cebalinus’ identity: Heckel 2006, 82. 31 Alexander rewarded Eurylochus with money for informing him about the later Pages’ conspiracy, but he did not make him a friend: Curt. 8.6.26. 29

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palace. They rendered the king personal services, guarded him, shared his hunts and meals, and fought next to him. Upon reaching adulthood, they possibly joined the royal guard of the elite special infantry unit of the hypaspists. The king then chose up to seven or eight men from among them to serve as his personal Bodyguards. The common assumption that Alexander’s Macedonians friends came mostly from Pages with whom he grew up may be qualified. We have seen that of Alexander’s so-called boyhood friends, synthrophoi, only Leonnatus and Hephaestion are known to have enjoyed his close friendship and high office. The fact that someone shared Alexander’s education and youth did not necessarily win him Alexander’s affection. Moreover, according to modern estimates, the number of Pages was around 80–100, and there was a constant coming and going of new and old recruits. The size and shifting composition of the group were not conducive to the formation of close, stable friendships.32 Similarly disappointing is the search for the creation of friendship with Macedonians through royal gifts and gifts exchange. Xenophon thought that the security of monarchy depended on trusted friends, whose loyalty can be acquired through euergesia (generosity, doing favors). Gift giving was a common form of euergesia, and scholars have argued that it created friendship. In the case of Macedonians, however, the evidence shows that gifts were proofs of existing friendship or that they sustained it, but that they were insufficient to create it. This was true for all known Macedonians who were gift recipients, including those who were already Companions and received Alexander’s distributed property and other gifts before he left for Asia.33 Perhaps it is better to admit our ignorance of how a native or naturalized Macedonian became Alexander’s friend. Two overlapping reasons may explain the dearth of testimony on the subject. In general, Alexander did not encourage or initiate new friendships with Macedonians at home or in camp, relying instead on already-existing ties. Furthermore, the sources found little interest or novelty in his making friends with Macedonians as opposed to non-Macedonians in Greece or on the campaign. Our sources are similarly sparing of details about Alexander’s friendships that were broken. There are the obvious cases of Clitus and other friends charged with plotting against the king, yet they were exceptional, and killing a friend was not Alexander’s normal way of putting an end to a relationship. Similarly unique was the story of Harpalus, who twice cut off his friendship with the king. The scion of a well-connected, aristocratic family, Harpalus was Alexander’s friend even before he Pages and upward mobility: e.g., Heckel 1986; 1992, 237–88; Hammond 1990; Carney 2015, 206–23. Synthrophoi: above. 33 Xen. Cyropaedia 8.7.13. Gifts make friends, e.g. Mauss 1967; Strootman 2014, 152; cf. Mitchell 1997, 167–74. Alexander’s pre-invasion gifts: Plut. 15; Moral. 342d–e; Just. 11.5.5. Even in the case of Alexander’s renewal of friendship with Proteas, below, gifts did not create it or even automatically accompanied it. 32

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became king. Alexander spared him active duty because of his physical disability and put him in charge of the treasury. Harpalus deserted the campaign shortly before the battle of Issus (333) and went to live in the Megarid. Arrian (3.6.4–7), the only source to report his flight, ascribes it to the influence of the otherwise unknown Tauriscus, “a bad man.” Scholars, however, have suggested that he left because he lost power over the treasury, did not trust Alexander to win the battle of Issus, or feared punishment for misuse of funds.34 Since Tauriscus later joined Alexander of Epirus’ campaign in Italy (where he died), it is also possible that Harpalus left with this plan in mind and had reconsidered by the time he reached Greece. Whatever led Harpalus to leave, his action was insufficient to destroy Alexander’s trust in him, and the king must have also been satisfied with his performance in office. Both men needed a reason or an excuse for Harpalus’ flight that would allow them to restore their friendship, and Tauriscus’ bad influence, important or not, served this purpose. Arrian’s account of their reconciliation reflects the one-sided character of royal friendship: Alexander initiated the return, assured Harpalus of impunity, and gave him back the treasury. Yet it is unlikely that Harpalus played an entirely passive role, and he must have negotiated the terms of his return and reassured Alexander of his loyalty. Harpalus fled again in 324, and this time the sources explain his motives. Much of their account focuses on Harpalus’ relations with his courtesans, but they also tell of his prodigious spending, his use of the treasury to finance a self-indulgent lifestyle, and his abuse of local women. Harpalus’ misconduct is attributed to his belief that Alexander would never return from the faraway Indian campaign or the march through the Gedrosian desert. There were other administrators, mostly in and around Iran, who abused their office in the same misguided belief. But Alexander did come back and, in what some scholars have described as a purge, executed officials for maladministration, at times on the basis of mere allegations. Fearing a similar fate, Harpalus fled with 5,000 talents. He sailed to Athens with a sizeable fleet and 6,000–7,000 mercenaries, but failed to find shelter there and was later killed by one of his commanders in Crete.35 Many of the stories about Harpalus focus on the extravagant honors he bestowed on women whom the sources describe as courtesans or whores, and which included See respectively, Badian 1960; Bosworth 1980–95, 1, 284; Worthington 1984. For additional interpretations, critique and speculations, some of which are hard to reconcile with Arrian, see Carney 1981; Jaschinsky 1981, 15–18; Kingsley 1986; Heckel 2006, 310–311, nn. 305, 306; Baynham 2015, 128, n. 6, cf. 133. For Harpalus’ career, see this chapter and the next note, as well as Howe in this volume for points of agreement and disagreements with the present analysis. 35 Harpalus’ misconduct: Theopompus BNJ 115 Frs. 253, 254 a, b; Cleitarchus BNJ 137 F 30; Diod. 17.108.4–8; Plut. Demosthenes 25; Phocion 22; Arr. Events after Alexander 12; Athen. 13.594d; Paus. 1.37.5. Administrators’ misconduct: Arr. 7.4.1–3; Plut. 68; Diod. 17.106.2–3; Curt. 10.1.1–9; Paus. 1.37.5. Purge: Badian 2012, 58–95, followed by many scholars. Harpalus on the run: Diod. 17.107.6; Curt. 10.2.1, and e.g. Worthington 1992, 49–77; Blackwell 1999; Gottesman 2015; Heitmann-Gordon 2017, 310–19. 34

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queenly distinctions, statues and monumental temples or tombs. He obliged other people to pay them respect, forced himself on native women and maintained a luxurious lifestyle, importing fish and even plants all the way to Babylon. The accounts of Harpalus’ hedonistic, overbearing and wasteful practices appear to reproduce topoi of men who could not master their appetites. They shamed themselves and others with their hubris and their indulgence in sex, food and other pleasures, on which they wasted their own or others’ money. Harpalus may indeed have done everything attributed to him, but the sources’ account was shaped by a common stereotype.36 For Alexander, in contrast, none of the charges against Harpalus, except for embezzlement, was criminal or provided a compelling reason to punish him. Moreover, Harpalus could easily have claimed that he used his own money to pay for his personal expenses. Indeed, no contemporary source, as opposed to later authors, accuses Harpalus of stealing money from Alexander before he fled. This is true of what survives from Theopompus, Clitarchus and a satyr play that mocked Harpalus but failed to accuse him of theft or other wrongdoing. Alexander’s large spending on the Susa weddings and the discharge of the troops’ debts following Harpalus’ flight suggests furthermore that he was not much affected or impressed with Harpalus’ embezzlement. In fact, he never asked Athens for the money that Harpalus took from him.37 Theopompus’ letter to Alexander illustrates the point. He accused Harpalus not of embezzlement but of giving divine honors to his “whore,” Pythionice, which Thepompus turned into an insult to Alexander and the gods. He then put in stark contrast Harpalus’ monumental honoring of the courtesan with his failure to honor the fallen at Issus, and claimed that Harpalus did not behave as Alexander’s friend. Harpalus also demanded that visitors give the courtesan who succeeded Pythionice royal honors properly due to Alexander’s mother and wife. Clearly Theopompus tried very hard to give Harpalus’ actions an anti-Alexander meaning, unconvincing in itself and dependent for its success on Alexander’s willingness to accept it.38 Harpalus’ detractors say nothing about the services that Harpalus rendered Alexander, and little of what they report suggests danger or disloyalty to the king and his kingdom. Understandably, when Alexander first heard from two informants that Harpalus had fled, as Plutarch (41) tells us, he put them in chains as false accusers. Modern historians differ as to whether the incident relates to Harpalus’ first or second flight. Because Plutarch was much better informed of the second Haraplus’ appetites: see last note and Plut. 35. Fish and plants: Diod. 17.108.4; Plut. 35. Stereotypes of luxury and lack of self-control: e.g. Davidson 1998; Roisman 2005, 163–85; Gorman and Gorman 2014. Harpalus’ courtesans: Ogden 2011, 224–36; Müller 2006. 37 See n. 35. Satyr play: Agen most probably by Python, Athen. 13.595e–596b, and for its date and first production: Bosworth 1988a, 149–50; Worthington 1986, 64; Kotlinska-Toma 2016, 279–85. Spending after Harpalus’ flight: Roisman 2012, 40–44. Kotlinska-Toma (2016, 284), however, suggests that the spending was intended to dispel anxieties about the state of the treasury after Harpalus’ flight. Alexander, Athens and the money: Din. 1.68; Badian 2012, 75. 38 Theopompus on Harpalus: BNJ 115 Frs. 253, 254 a, b; Athen. 13.594d–f. Müller (2006) argues, however, that Harpalus challenged Alexander’s legitimacy by honoring his female companions. 36

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than the first, which he never mentions, his laconic reference to “Harpalos’ flight” and Alexander’s disbelief in it strongly suggests that he means the more famous and eventful second flight.39 Alexander’s disbelief in Harpalus’ desertion suggests that he trusted and was loyal to his friend and that he assumed that Harpalus had no reason to flee again. (He was similarly slow to believe in conspiratorial accusations against his friend, Philotas: Arr. 3.26.1; hardly the paranoid king depicted in his historiography.) Alexander’s action against the informers also showed the risk of questioning his friends’ loyalty, a danger that could militate against the duty to inform him of their disloyalty. Harpalus, for his part, regarded the free hand he was given and the pardon of his first flight as signs that he enjoyed Alexander’s unshakeable trust. But he grew fearful after Alexander’s treatment of the errant officeholders and made the irrevocable, and possibly premature, decision to rebel against the king. He took money and recruited merecenaries in the hope that it would make him an attractive ally to Alexander’s enemies in Greece, especially at Athens. Alternatively, he could use his resources to occupy a site far from the king’s reach. He failed on both counts.

Friendship’s Vicissitudes It is in the nature of friendship to vary over time. Alexander and his friends experienced ups and downs in their relationship, and there were several cases of quarrels and reconciliations. One involved Alexander and Leonnatus after a banquet at which Alexander tried unsuccessfully to induce Greeks and Macedonians guests to make obeisance to him in the eastern style (proskynesis). An awkward silence followed, and then distinguished Persian guests rose up and performed the ritual. When one of them did it in an ungraceful manner, Leonnatus mocked him, arousing Alexander’s anger.40 The king had just been frustrated and humiliated by a failure to introduce proskynesis, but the Iranians’ obeisance mitigated the defeat by publicly confirming that the ritual would continue to be performed by Asians and even by willing Greeks and Macedonians. Leonnatus’ joke, however, restored the embarrassment by ridiculing the ritual, thus asserting the superior moral identity of the Macedonian conquerors. It appears that Leonnatus was seeking approval more from the hetairoi at the banquet than from the king, whom he was expected to support as a friend. But there was too much that bound the two men for the rift to become permanent. Leonnatus was an old friend, a Companion, a confidant whom Alexander sent to the captive royal women, and a Bodyguard for at least five years before the incident. He also supported the king in the Philotas and Clitus affairs. Shortly after the quarrel, Plutarch’s reference to first flight: Berve 1926, 2, 76; Badian 1960, 245 n. 1; Hamilton 1969, 109. To Second flight: Heckel 2006, 130. Plutarch on Harpalus: Demosthenes 25; Phocion 21–22; Moral. 531a. 40 Arr. 4.12.1–5. See Heckel 1992, 95–97, against identifying Leonnatus with his more obscure namesake, as well as for rejecting similar tales about Polyperchon and Cassander. 39

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Leonnatus performed well on the field, and he demonstrated his loyalty to Alexander when, together with Ptolemy, he brought him an informant about the Pages’ conspiracy. His defense of the wounded Alexander at the Malli town (326/5) at the cost of injuries to himself should have lifted any doubts about his courage, loyalty and friendship.41 Alexander also quarreled and made up with the Macedonian Proteas. This man was probably the son of Alexander’s nurse, Lanice (and so Clitus’ nephew), and a boyhood friend of Alexander’s (synthropos, see above). As a naval commander he defeated his Persian counterpart in a campaign in the Aegean, and in 332 he joined Alexander in Sidon. All that is known about the rest of his career is that he was a “party animal,” a prodigious drinker and Alexander’s drinking companion, who entertained guests with his wit. According to one questionable report, he won a drinking contest with Alexander that led to the king’s death. Plutarch, the only source to report his quarrel with Alexander, does not tell its origin or the cause of Alexander’s anger. Proteas’ drinking prowess, Alexander’s competitiveness, and the explosive potential of Macedonian parties make an argument or indignity at a banquet a promising possibility. Alexander restored their friendship after the pleadings of a tearful Proteas and his friends. Similar negotiations and intervention by mutual friends probably took place also in the dispute with Leonnatus, and indeed the role of friends as conciliators is neglected in modern Alexander historiography in favor of their political feuds or alliances. In both cases the relationships were asymmetrical: the king gave friendship, took it away, and gave it back again, although with a price. Proteas asked Alexander for a gift as proof of their renewed friendship, and Alexander is said to have rewarded him with five talents. Both men had public reaction to the exchange in mind. The king’s magnanimity reaffirmed that it was good to be his friend, and Proteas could convince doubters that his quarrel with the king was ancient history.42 Eumenes of Cardia, the king’s chief secretary and commander, quarreled with Alexander more than once. Plutarch says that they clashed many times, but mentions only three incidents, one of which amounted to little (Plut. Eumenes 2). Alexander requested that his friends contribute money to Nearchus’ voyage to the Persian Gulf, asking Eumenes for 300 talents. Eumenes came up with only 100 talents, claiming difficulties in raising even that much – untruthfully, as Alexander probably knew. The king said nothing and did not take the money, but gave secret orders to burn Eumenes’ tent in an attempt to force him to rescue his assets and so reveal his wealth and the fraud. The scheme worked too well. The melted gold and silver found were worth 1,000 talents, but Eumenes was chief secretary, and his entire archive went Leonnatus’ career: Heckel 1992, 92–103. Badian 2012, 260, claims a hiatus in it following the proskynesis incident, but see Heckel ibid. Leonnatus’ defense of Alexander: n. 26 above. 42 The quarrel: Plut. 39. Proteas’ family and early career: Athen. 4.139a; Aelian VH 12.26; Arr. 2.24–5, 20.2. Drinking contest: Epiphus BNJ 126 F3 with Prandi’s commentary. See also Athen. 4.128a; 10.434a, and n. 30 above. 41

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up in flames. Plutarch suggests that the loss of the documents concerned Alexander more than the money, which he did not touch. He only asked his commanders and governors to send copies of the lost documents to Eumenes. The anecdote illustrates Eumenes’ characteristic gift for getting out of trouble, yet it also shows that Alexander mistrusted him, and that Alexander’s friends accumulated much wealth, which they were supposed to share with him. If Alexander was not upset with Eumenes and did not take his money, it was because other friends picked up the tab. Eumenes and Alexander had more serious conflicts on account of Hephaestion, the king’s best friend. Eumenes quarreled with Hephaestion after the latter assigned a flute-player, apparently his friend, to a residence which Eumenes had already occupied. It is likely that Eumenes was in the wrong: he did not claim first possession, but bitterly protested that entertainers were appreciated more than warriors such as he. Alexander was angry with Hephaestion and reproached him. Significantly, however, it is not reported that he reassigned the quarters to Eumenes. Indeed, he soon redirected his anger towards Eumenes, regarding Eumenes’ language against Hephaestion as an insult to the king himself.43 It was not simply a matter of Eumenes’ lack of decorum. Frank speech (parrhesia), including criticism of the king, was a privilege of close friends, and Eumenes apparently was not one of them.44 Alexander also objected to Eumenes’ suggestion that the king approved of a distorted reward and honor system. In addition, Alexander disapproved of feuds among his close friends because they threatened his control and the campaign, putting him in the awkward position of having to pick sides. (When the rivalry between Craterus and Hephaestion led almost to bloodshed in India, he forced both men to cease their open quarrelling under oath and threat of death.) In the Eumenes episode, Alexander probably supported Hephaestion all along, and once he had appeased Eumenes with harsh words toward Hephaestion, he compensated the latter with a show of anger and reproach for Eumenes.45 Alexander’s solution resolved nothing, and the hostility between Eumenes and Hephaestion continued to flare up. They fought over some gift, then reconciled over this or another issue, Eumenes gladly and Hephaestion reluctantly. Hephaestion died soon afterward, and Eumenes’ poor relationship with Hephaestion came to haunt him. While in the anger stage of his grief over his friend, Alexander was harsh toward Eumenes and others he thought were glad at Hephaestion’s death. It has even been suggested that he suspected Eumenes of poisoning Hephaestion. Eumenes reacted quickly by being the first to dedicate himself and his weapons to the dead man, forcing Alexander’s other Plut. Eumenes 2. The time and the location of the incident are unknown: perhaps no earlier than 326 and the Indian campaign, where Eumenes’ first military assignment is recorded: Arr. 5.24.6; see also Reames 2010, 216 n. 79. 44 Friendly freedom of speech: Curt. 3.12.16; Konstan 1995, 334; Strootman 2014, 160–61, 173; cf. Konstan 1997, 93–94. 45 Craterus and Hephaestion: Plut. 47. Weber (2009, 83) suggests that Alexander encouraged rivalry among his friends, but, as the present cases show, only up to a point. 43

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Companions to follow suit. The gesture suggested a superhuman status for Hephaestion, which corresponded to the king’s wish to deify or heroize him. Eumenes also contributed money to Hephaestion’s elaborate funeral, knowing that he had something to prove after failing adequately to support Nearchus’ expedition. In more than one sense, then, Eumenes’ quarrels with Hephaestion were about their relationship with Alexander.46 None of these quarrels had a long-term impact on Eumenes’ fundamental friendship with the king. His feuds with Hephaestion were largely personal and therefore unremarkable in the royal court. They also gave Alexander no reason to suspect either man’s loyalty or good will toward him. Eumenes retained his offices as a chief secretary, was among the selected elite men whom the king married to Persian women, and was even promoted to senior cavalry command after Hephaestion’s death. Alexander might not have had warm feelings toward Eumenes, but he found him useful.47 Two other men who quarreled with the king deserve brief mention. The historian Callisthenes’ conflict with Alexander concerning the proskynesis is well known, yet it is uncertain if Callisthenes fully qualified for the status of the king’s friend. On the one hand, some authors, none of them historians, call him Alexander’s friend. Callisthenes is also mentioned among friends who attended the royal court and its banquets, and he probably thought that he acted like a good friend in describing Alexander and his exploits very favorably in his history, consoling him after Clitus’ death, and offering him honest, constructive criticism regarding the honors to which he was properly entitled. But there is no evidence that Alexander reciprocated or regarded him as friend. On the contrary, he is said to have hated Callisthenes after the historian became the voice of the opposition to Alexander’s adoption of Iranian customs.48 But even if Callisthenes’ relationship with the king changed according to circumstances, a famous story illustrates his low standing among Alexander’s friends. At a banquet, Alexander circulated a golden cup among his guests, expecting each to perform the ritual of obeisance and to receive a kiss from the king. When it was Callisthenes’ turn, he skipped the obeisance but came for the kiss. Alexander was busy talking to Hephaestion and did not see what took place, but another guest told him of Callisthenes’ maneuver, and Alexander refused his kiss. Callisthenes exited with the punchline that he was leaving poorer by a kiss. The contrast between Hephaestion, who probably shared the king’s couch and got his full attention, and Callisthenes, who was not even noticed, tells it all.49 Quarrel with Hephaestion: Plut. Eumenes 2; Arr. 7.13.1, 14.9. Suspicion of poison: Bosworth 1988b, 177. 47 Anson 2015, 54–55, regards the Eumenes-Hephaestion feud as personal, but Reames (2010, 205) sees it as a clash between the offices of the secretary and the chiliarch. 48 Callisthenes as Alexander’s friend: Kallisthenes of Olynthos BNJ 124 T 18a (Tatian), 21 (Philodemus), 30 (Cicero). Just. 12.6.17 states that Alexander and Callisthenes were intimates because they shared Aristotle as a teacher, a link confirmed nowhere else. Consoling Alexander: Plut. 52. Alexander’s hatred of Callisthenes: Arr. 4.14.1; cf. Pl. 53. On Callisthenes and Alexander, see O’Sullivan 2015, Rzepka, “Kallisthenes of Olynthos,” and see also Greenwalt and Pownall in this volume. 49 Chares BNJ 125 F 14a with Müller’s commentary ad loc.; Arr. 4.12.1–5; Plut. 54. 46

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Lysimachus, Alexander’s Bodyguard and fellow hunter and campaigner, was much better entitled to the status of Alexander’s friend. Yet it is told that he greatly angered Alexander by giving Callisthenes poison to end the philosopher’s misery when he was being tortured for his alleged involvement in a plot against the king. Alexander reportedly caged Lysimachus with a lion, but Lysimachus killed the lion by yanking its tongue out. His act of courage transformed Alexander from a foe into an admiring friend. The story is suspect not only factually, but also because of its agenda either of presenting Alexander as a tyrannical, cruel ruler or, no less likely, of legitimizing Lysimachus’ later monarchy through claims to Alexander’s friendship and recognition of valor. Another tale about Alexander’ binding the wounded Lysimachus with his diadem and thus presaging his future kingship is combined with the one about the lion and serves the same purpose.50 Most of the episodes recounted in this section ended in a renewed friendship between Alexander and the man who upset him, a result in the interest of both parties. Such reconciliation did not mean, however, that the level of friendship was fully restored or that it remained unchanged thereafter. The fluctuating nature of royal friendship and the deficient evidence concerning Alexander’s friends makes studying the subject highly challenging. Nevertheless, it is possible to offer some conclusions. Among them is the need for caution in taking the appellation “friend” in the sources at face value or as a formal designation, because of the free use of the term whose meaning ranges from temporarily sharing the king’s company to being his close and frequent confidant. Within this range, the sources tell on a variety of friendships, some of them were personal with a strong emotive component, such as with Hephaestion and possibly Peucestas, others were a product of a network of friends, such as with Amyntas, and still others were largely utilitarian in nature, such as with Eumenes and Callisthenes. All friendships included the expectation of mutual loyalty and support, although the king did not always abide by it. The reason had to do with the unequal positions that he and his friends occupied in the relationship. Since it was mostly up to Alexander to commence, cultivate or end a friendship, feuds among his friends reflected not just their personal differences but even more their rivalry over his friendship. Friends might introduce their friends into royal friendship, but they also brought into the relationship their enmities with his other friends, suggesting thus the complexity of friendship in court. It is hoped that these and other perspectives discussed in this chapter add light to one of the most important social, political and cultural institutions of Alexander’s reign.

50

Just. 15.3.1–16; cf. Plut. Demetrius 27; Paus. 1.9.5; Seneca De Ira 3.17.3; de clemetia 1.25.3; Pliny NH 8.21. Tatian Address to the Greeks 2, 2. Already Curtius had his doubt about Lysimachus and the lion: 8.1.17. Alexander’s tyrannical cruelty: Lund 1992, 6–8; Heckel 2006, 154, 300, n. 191. Lysimachus’ legitimization efforts: Plischke 2011. See also Seyer 2007, 106–108.

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Meeus, A. (2009) Some institutional problems concerning the succession to Alexander the Great: ‘prostasia’ and ‘chilarchy.’ Historia 58, 287–310. Mitchell, L.G. (1997) Greeks Bearing Gifts: The Public Use of Private Relationships in the Greek World, 453–323 BC. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Mooren, L. (1975) The Aulic Titulature in Ptolemaic Egypt: Introduction and Prosopography. Brussels, Paleis der Academiën. Müller, S. (2006) Alexander, Harpalos und die Ehren für Pythionike und Glykera: Überlegungen zu den Repräsentationsformen des Schatzmeisters in Babylon und Tarsos. In V. Lica and D. Nedu (eds) Philia: Festschrift für Gerhard Wirth zum 80. Geburtstag 9 Dezember 2006, 71–106. Historia Antiqua Glatiensis II. Bonn, Habelt, R. Müller, S. (2011) In Abhängigkeit von Alexander: Hephaistion bei den Alexanderhistoriographen. Gymnasium 118, 429–56. Müller, S. (2012) Ptolemaios und die Erinnerung an Hephaestion. Anabasis 3, 75–91. Müller, S. (2018) Hephaestion – a re-assessment of his career. In T. Howe and F. Pownall (eds) Ancient Macedonians in the Greek and Roman Sources. From History to Historiography, 77–102. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. Ogden, D. (2011) How to marry a courtesan in the Macedonian courts. In A. Erskine and L. LewellynJones (eds) Creating the Hellenistic World, 221–46. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. O’Sullivan, L.-L. (2015) Callisthenes and Alexander the invincible god. In P. Wheatley and E. Baynham (eds) East and West in the World Empire of Alexander the Great: Essays in Honour of Brian Bosworth, 35–52. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Pangle, L.S. (2003) Aristotle and the Philosophy of Friendship. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Paschidis, P. (2006) The interpenetration of civic elites and court elite in Macedonia. In A.-M. Guimier-Sorbets, M.B. Hatzopoulos and Y. Morizot (eds) Rois, cités et nécropoles: Institutions, rites et monuments en Macédoine, 251–67. Athens, Diffusion de Boccard. Paschidis, P. (2008) Between City and King. Prosopographical Studies in the Intermediaries Between the Cities of the Greek Mainland and the Aegean and the Royal Courts in the Hellenistic Period (322–190 BC). Athens, Diffusion de Boccard. Perrin, B. (1895) Genesis and growth of an Alexander-myth. Transactions of the American Philological Association 26, 56–68. Plischke, S. (2011) Herrschaftslegitimation and Städtekult im Reich des Lysimachos. In L.-M. Günther and S. Plischke (eds) Studien zum vorhellenistischen und hellenistischen Herrscherkult: Verdichtung und Erweiterung von Traditionsgeflechten, 55–76. Berlin, Verlage Antike/Oikumene. Prandi, L. (2016) Ephippos of Olynthus (126). In I. Worthington (ed.) Brill’s New Jacoby [online]. Accessed 2 October 2019. http://dx.doi.org/10.1163/1873-5363_bnj_a126. Reames, J. (2010) The cult of Hephaestion. In P. Cartledge and F.R. Greenland (eds) Responses to Oliver Stone’s Alexander: Film, History, and Cultural Studies, 183–216. Madison, University of Wisconsin. Rhodes, P.J. and Osborne, R. (2003) Greek Historical Inscriptions, 404–323 BC. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Roisman, J. (2005) The Rhetoric of Manhood: Masculinity in the Attic Orators. Berkeley, University of California. Roisman, J. (2012) Alexander’s Veterans and the Early Wars of the Successors. Austin, University of Texas. Roisman, J. (2015) Opposition to Macedonian kings: riots for rewards and verbal protests. In T. Howe, E.E. Garvin and G. Wrightson (eds) Greece, Macedon and Persia. Studies in Social, Political and Military History in Honour of Waldemar Heckel, 77–86. Oxford, Oxbow Books. Rzepka, J. (2016) Kallisthenes (124). In I. Worthington Brill’s New Jacoby [online]. Accessed 2 October 2019. http://dx.doi.org/10.1163/1873-5363_bnj_a124. Savalli-Lestrade, I. (1998) Les Philoi royaux dans l’Asie hellénistique. Geneva, Droz/Hautes études du monde gréco-romain.

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Savalli-Lestrade, I. (2017) Bios aulikos: the multiple ways of life of courtiers in the Hellenistic age. In A. Erskine, L. Llewellyn-Jones and S. Wallace (eds) The Hellenistic Court: Monarchic Power and Elite Society from Alexander to Cleopatra. 101–21. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. Seyer, M. (2007) Der Herrscher als Jäger: Untersuchungen zur königlichen Jagd im persischen und makedonischen Reich vom 6.-4. Jahrhundert v.Chr. sowie unter den Diadochen Alexanders des Großen. Vienna, Phoibos. Stagakis, G.S. (1970) Observations on the hetairoi of Alexander the Great. Ancient Macedonia 1, 86–102. Strootman, R. (2014) Courts and Elites in the Hellenistic Empires: The Near East After the Achaemenids, c. 330–30 BCE. Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press. Strootman, R. (2017) Eunuchs, renegades and concubines: the ‘paradox of power’ and the promotion of favourites in the Hellenistic empires. In A. Erskine, L. Llewellyn-Jones and S. Wallace (eds) The Hellenistic Court: Monarchic Power and Elite Society from Alexander to Cleopatra, 121–42. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. Weber, G. (2009) The court of Alexander the Great as a social system. In W. Heckel and L.A. Tritle (eds) Alexander the Great: A New History, 83–98. Oxford and Malden, MA, Wiley-Blackwell. Worthington, I. (1984) The first flight of Harpalus reconsidered. Greece & Rome 31, 161–69. Worthington, I. (1986) The chronology of the Harpalus affair. Symbolae Osloensis 61, 63–76. Worthington, I. (1992) A Historical Commentary on Dinarchus. Ann Arbor, University of Michigan.

Chapter 11 Callisthenes the Prig

William Greenwalt During the 4th century BC, beginning with Plato, Greek moral philosophers and their offspring attempted to have a moral impact on human affairs by educating those in power. Leaving aside philosophy’s attempts to influence oligarchic and democratic states, tyrants and kings were sought out in an attempt to spark philosophical utopias. In Macedonia, the first to have done so was one Euphraeus during the reign of Perdiccas III. Aristotle’s tutoring of Alexander the Great and the “Royal Pages” followed suit, as did the work of Aristotle’s great-nephew, Callisthenes. Both Euphraeus and Callisthenes were manifest failures, and it is debatable how much influence Aristotle had on Alexander. This paper will survey Callisthenes’s known career, especially his initial appointment as the most prestigious historian of Alexander’s anabasis, and his role as tutor for Alexander’s pages. It will uncover a kind of academic arrogance not unknown in the modern world, Callisthenes’ tin ear, and his ultimate (self) destruction. I offer this paper for the consideration of Beth Carney, about the least priggish academic I know. Webster’s New World College Dictionary (4th edition) defines a “prig” as 1) “a person who is annoyingly smug in his or her moral behavior, attitudes, etc.; 2) a person who is annoyingly fastidious about rules, small details etc.” Other dictionaries may offer slightly different wordings, and in Callisthenes’ case one might rightfully question the adjective “small” in the second definition, but for my purposes these (obviously not incompatible) definitions offer an appropriate springboard for what will follow. Although it is fairly obvious, being a prig means believing oneself to be morally superior to an annoying degree, and it means that if another is believed not to be as fastidious as oneself in some moral matter, then one has the right to look down one’s nose at that other person, no matter who that person is, or what power that person might yield. This can be socially dangerous under any circumstance, but as the case of Callisthenes

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proves, it can be and often is, lethally perilous if the person being judged to be morally inferior is a megalomaniacal autocrat whose actions of moral inferiority are imagined by that morally inferior other as necessary to overcome an immediate political problem. Pownall (2018) has recently argued (against the consensus) that Callisthenes’ only official role during Alexander’s anabasis was that of an historian, and that he did not function as a tutor of Alexander’s Pages. She further adds that there is no evidence that Callisthenes either practiced as a philosopher or taught at any time during his lifetime, unlike his much more famous relative, Aristotle (2018, 66–67). I find her conclusions convincing, and they will strengthen what I argue here, but even if someone in the future can refute Pownall’s thesis, it will not undercut the simple argument I will lay out. This short chapter can be read as a kind of addendum to what Pownall has written, and as an observation about those “nattering nabobs” who speak out loudly about issues well beyond their specific areas of expertise, and who do so with a moral smugness and purity seldom realized in the world beyond the academy. It is this air of moral superiority, largely circulated without any responsibility by those intellectuals and scholars who make their livings on university campuses or in think tanks, which so frequently rankles those who do not. Intellectuals are frequently priggish, making us come off to the majority as either supercilious, or downright repugnant. Callisthenes of Olynthus (BNJ 124) was an eloquent sophist who is said to have been envied by his would-be peers, and sought out by some because of his way with words and by others because of his austerity (Plut. Alex. 52–55; Arr. Anab. 4.10–14, for two). Austerity was not terribly popular among ancient Macedonians, especially during symposia, so that even as he impressed with the quality of his rhetoric, with rare exceptions many thought Callisthenes to be aloof, condescending, and churlish. One exception to Callisthenes’ unpopularity occurred when Alexander baited him into a demonstration of his excellence at thesis/antithesis. Initially asked to speak in favor of the Macedonians, he so pleased the large number of Macedonians in attendance that he received a standing ovation and was pelted by garlands in appreciation. When, however, asked by Alexander to rebut his initial argument, Callisthenes is said to have reversed his stand at length by arguing that it is not the Macedonians who had made Philip strong, but supporters among the Greeks. Thus, the popularity he had earned was almost immediately lost amongst his audience, who thereafter demonstrated a “bitter hatred” toward him. Alexander is said to have commented to the assembled that Callisthenes had not demonstrated his eloquence but rather his disdain for the Macedonians. In short, Callisthenes appeared socially tone deaf (Plut. Alex. 52–55; Arr. Anab. 4.10–14). Plutarch, immediately following this famous episode, turns to the even more famous account of Alexander’s attempt to inaugurate his policy of proskynesis at a symposium attended by Macedonians, Greeks and a variety of Asians. Whatever this sort of obeisance entailed (its form changed depending on the relative differences of status between the king and the person approaching him), Alexander knew that many among the Macedonians and Greeks would object to their being “de-based”

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by being asked to perform an act that they considered beneath them, and one that in the Greco-Macedonian world was offered only to divinity, and thus, was deemed morally repugnant when offered to a human being. It is difficult to know which of these two points bothered the Macedonians and Greeks more, but I suspect it was their being considered as being no better than those they had either conquered or were in the process of conquering. Most close enough to see Alexander interact with his Asian subjects probably knew then that when a subject of the Persian king (a status Alexander now claimed, and which was increasing being proffered by those from the East) offered their lord proskynesis they were not worshipping a god. But, being equated with the conquered still rattled. As a sop to these sentiments, after performing obeisance, Alexander allowed those who approached him to receive a royal kiss, a demonstration of “equality” that would have tempered the bitterness of having to act as subjects just like any other. With Alexander preoccupied, when it was Callisthenes’ turn to offer proskynesis, he refused to do so, but still approached the king for his kiss. When Alexander was informed of Callisthenes’ refusal to offer obeisance, Alexander refused his historian a kiss, after which Callisthenes is said to have proclaimed his reasons for not offering proskynesis and exclaimed in his orator’s voice something to the effect of, “I leave the poorer by a kiss” (Plut. Alex. 54). It is alleged that there was a ripple effect among those “older” Macedonians who secretly agreed with Callisthenes in this case: Plutarch notes that Alexander was extremely vexed and alienated and that the Greeks were thus saved from disgrace (for the time being). He then also adds (Alex. 55) that Hephaestion later claimed that Callisthenes had agreed to offer obeisance, but when it came time to do so, he changed his mind. Whether Hephaestion’s charge was true or whether he was just being opportunistic cannot be known, but clearly Callisthenes was on the outs with the king. Although all of our sources agree that the public humiliation of Alexander over proskynesis was Callisthenes’ most serious crime in the eyes of the king, Arrian’s report (Anab. 4.10) that Callisthenes avowed that Alexander’s fame was dependent upon himself and his history, and that he had accompanied Alexander not to gain a reputation from the king, but to make Alexander the most famed of all men would not have set well with Alexander. Further, he apparently added that rumors about Alexander’s divinity came not from any other source but from his account of Alexander’s deeds. Although we do not possess an abundance of Callisthenes’ flowery praise of Alexander, two sources (BNJ 124 T 21 and F 31) point to extreme flattery, the first noting that Callisthenes deified Alexander in his history, while the second has the sea offering Alexander proskynesis. Thus, from all we can tell Alexander had every right to be furious with his historian, for writing the king up as worthy of obeisance, while when it came time to acknowledge his own propaganda, he denounced it. All of this is well known and Pownall has done a fine job at laying out the issues and discussing the sources, so I do not need to go into greater depth here. What I would like to emphasize at this time is that Callisthenes’ moral rebellion was based on the certainty that his interpretation of ritual was morally superior to those practiced

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in the Persian Empire, and as he adopted Persian ways, to the morality of Alexander despite what Callisthenes had already written. If he did not know that the Persians did not worship their kings as gods through proskynesis, then he should have, as probably Alexander’s most acclaimed court historian. The customs of Alexander’s one-time-enemies should have been topics of keen interest. I cannot imagine that he did not know how the Persians employed proskynesis, but I think it must be concluded that he did not care. To Callisthenes Greek mores were simply superior, and he would not abase himself even as he travelled with a court that was increasingly Asian in composition. His was an absolutist position – he knew better than Alexander, despite the fact that he dealt in an intellectual world that did not care about the political realities on the ground. As Callisthenes advanced with his moral imperative, this Greek was becoming a kind of hero to Macedonians of a “conservative” bent (more on this below). No wonder Alexander came to hate Callisthenes, because faced with a need to alter court custom as the Macedonian element of Alexander’s expanding empire was rapidly diminishing as more of Asia fell under his rule, changes by necessity had to be made. Alexander certainly became more autocratic as time went on, but, at least originally, proskynesis, was not entirely megalomania; it was just as Machiavellian, and as I will now argue, not outside the parameters of previous Argead tradition, although this seems not to have been recognized by Macedonian “traditionalists.” I have previously argued (Greenwalt 1986; 1994; 2010; 2011; 2015; 2016) that the Argead dynasty was divinely ordained, and that Argead kings were considered living heroes in their homeland. I will not do so again here. Thus, a religious foundation was accepted as the norm within the traditional confines of the Argead kingdom, although this entity knew vast territorial enlargements under Philip and Alexander. Sometimes we overlook the fact that Macedon was as much a religious corporation as it was a social and political one. So too was the polis. Thus, as Philip II expanded his reach into southern Greece, so did his interest grow in the major Hellenic religious sites, especially Delphi, Olympia and, to an extent, Samothrace. Philip did not annex his conquests into a consolidated Macedon. Instead he began to wear several hats (as tagus in Thessaly, hegemon of the League of Corinth, etc.), and as he did so he began to appeal to those now under his power, by associating himself with religious sites of significance to those now under his control. Macedonian religiosity held no sway in the south, so a new religious imperialism was necessary. We have little evidence (not surprisingly), but I expect he did the same with the religious world of Thrace (Graninger 2017). Philip adapted to new circumstances and opportunities by coopting the prevailing mores of his new subjects. Different days, different ways. He presided as the official over the Pythian Games, and a dynastic monument at Delphi ensued. Philip clearly had his own agenda, but he wrapped it inside local custom. Sometimes this could be edgy … what exactly did Philip mean by building in Olympia’s sacred precinct? What exactly did he mean on the day of his assassination by parading himself as a “13th” Olympian? It was, however, playing on established accepted practice for the Argeads to bolster their authority by broadening their religious interests and

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adopting useful new rituals as their kingdom expanded. Later, Alexander knew very well that he would be unable to rule his conquests by maintaining a Greco-Macedonian mentality. Was Alexander angling for some sort of divinity in the minds of his GrecoMacedonian subjects by his attempt to introduce prokynesis? Quite probably. After all, this initiative post-dated his journey to Siwah, and his fearful prayer to Zeus before the Battle of Gaugamela. I will leave the divinity aspect of Alexander’s policies and move on (see Fredricksmeyer 2003). None of our best sources for what follows in Plutarch credit Callisthenes with any collusion with the so called “Pages Conspiracy.” Again, Pownall has covered this material well and has concluded that Callisthenes had no formal association with the education of these aristocratic teens. After dismissing Callisthenes’ pithy suggestions that Hermolaus considers tyranicide as apocryphal (I think rightly), Pownall (2018, 63–66) does admit that Hermolaus was drawn to Callisthenes at least after the historian made his moral objections to proskynesis publicly known. It is clear that Hermolaus and some of his peers began to think of Alexander as a tyrant. In two articles (Greenwalt 2019; forthcoming), I have recently re-argued points I have previously laid out. In theory, Argead kingship was autocratic and absolutist: everything emanated from the king, who did not even bear a title. There were no assemblies, military or otherwise, unless the king wanted to argue something that might be construed as controversial before an appropriate audience. There were no regularly staffed trials with jurors that we know of, no recognized venues for the dispensing of regular justice. It appears that the king dispensed justice when needed, or had one of his hetairoi in his stead. His hetairoi were his personal Companions (although the term did come to be associated with the cavalry at large), many of whom came from families that had been prominent for so long that their input could not be ignored. Yet the king could appoint Companions at will, and many were chosen from beyond Macedonia for reasons that might be out of pure friendship or because those chosen had special skills. The hetairoi knew no terms of service (no annual elections by citizens), and even the powerful could be violently removed upon necessity (Attalus, Parmenion) without the king needing to face legal repercussions. There were no councils, except perhaps that of the symposium, for policy discussions. Laws were not even written down until late in the dynasty’s history, and where they first began to appear were in areas that were not part of the core kingdom. I need not continue. But, these things having been said, it was in theory that the Argead kingship was absolute, and no king could afford to rule in theory for long if he valued his life. No one man can rule even a small realm without the collusion of others, and this is where the aristocratic hetairoi were essential, if perhaps less so after the accession of Philip II, which came about after Perdiccas III’s disastrous demise along with thousands of those who made up his army, many of whom by necessity were hetairoi. I mention this because Philip was able to balance the one-time exclusive influence of this class, with a newly constituted class of Foot-Companions, which as

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a consequence balanced the Companions’ power. Before Philip’s reforms, at least two Argead kings, Archelaus and Alexander (Greenwalt, 2003; 2017) had attempted to reform the kingdom in ways that would have lessened the influence of the hetairoi. Both were assassinated, in times and places of ritual significance. Although I mentioned that we hear of no established places for the dispensing of justice, I certainly did not mean that the Argead king and his subjects had no innate sense of justice and the practical limitations upon what a king could or could not do. Although anecdotal, we hear of subjects appealing for justice from their rulers out in the open, and shaming their kings into hearing grievances. What were the duties of Argead monarchs? Certainly the defense of the realm and its subjects was at the top of the list. In fact, this is where the hetairoi posed as much of an impediment to national security as a boon. Constituting the only effective military element of the realm until the time of Philip II, the Companions had no interest in elevating the military importance of non-aristocrats, because the hetairoi knew that any reform promising more Macedonian infantry could only detract from their own influence domestically. Definitely, the kingdom would face the scourge of Illyrian and Thracian raids, but these tended to be short-lived or easy to buy off with no lasting loss of aristocratic power. As selfish as it may appear, the hetairoi seem to have preferred the occasional loss of life in heroic combat than ceding greater autonomy to the king, which would have followed the creation of a viable infantry. Philip got away with raising an effective infantry largely because many of the old obstructionists were dead, because of his early success, and because the new hetairoi class were mostly his handpicked men. So, if the Argead state had no real structure, then how did it stay together, and how did the king manifest his authority? As I have long argued, the kings’ subjects believed them to be semi-divine living heroes, who not only defended the state as best they could, but also projected an aura of power into the supernatural world. When the king went hunting, for example, he not only honed useful martial proficiencies and bonded (most of the time anyway) with those who accompanied him, he also symbolically held the worlds of chaos at bay. Ritually he legitimized his rule because tradition held the hunting field to be where security was re-established and prosperity began to reign both in this world and the next. Such ideas were not unique to Macedonia, but hunting was a ritual that legitimized a king’s authority, and sticking to this tradition was an aspect of his legal standing. Thus those, who for whatever reason came to doubt a king’s legitimacy, that is, when someone thought a king had strayed too far from tradition, then the hunt, for one, was an appropriate venue for tipping the scales of justice back to their appropriate balance. Hence, the murder of Archelaus during a hunt was produced by a conspiracy of three, all of whom thought themselves grievously wronged by a too smug and confident king in his newly instituted consolidation of power. Now, back to Hermolaus and Callisthenes. Most would not question that Hermolaus was drawn to Callisthenes because of his public denunciation of proskynesis. It appears

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that it was not just old and established Macedonians who were seeing in Alexander’s “orientalization” his occasional adoption of Persian dress, his redesigning of court ritual and the expanding of Asia obeisance to be drifting too far from traditional Macedonian notions of kingship. It is not the case that Alexander did not rely mostly on his Macedonians, but casualties and a vastly enlarged access to non-Macedonian manpower forced him to consider the arc of the future, in which a growing accommodation with non-Macedonian manpower for his armies and his administration would be essential. Perhaps a growing fear of Alexander’s divination sparked even more angst among Greeks and Macedonians, but just as he was beginning to innovate, along came Callisthenes whose public moral outrage got the attention of his Macedonians, some of whom rallied to that point of view and began to cast the king as an illegitimate Argead king, and thus a tyrannical ruler. Particularly galling to Alexander when the situation became clear to him, was that it was a Greek, and not even one who had an official relationship with the Pages, who became a rallying point in the minds of more than a few Macedonians against his own policies. I argue here that although Callisthenes had no conscious role in the stirring up of traditional Macedonian understandings of Argead kingship, he did spark the tinder of grievances about where Alexander’s kingship was heading. Inspired by a prig, Hermolaus let his “patriotism” be known when he usurped the prerogative of Alexander as king by making the first throw at game during a hunt. Alexander knew exactly what this symbolic act of rebellion against injustice meant and he acted accordingly: he physically punished Hermolaus, and reduced him in status. It was at that time that Hermolaus became doubly outraged that he and his people were being unjustly handled by an increasingly illegitimate Argead king. The Pages’ assassination plot followed, incited in a venue of special significance and Hermolaus and his friends were summarily dealt with. Using Hermolaus’ growing association with Callisthenes as an excuse, Alexander put the historian under house arrest. We do not know exactly how Callisthenes was abused, but his death in India was not pretty. Alexander’s vengeance was extreme, but he had every right to feel that Callisthenes had used a bully pulpit that was not his to employ, to undermine an attempted political policy to more effectively consolidate his authority. Alexander may have been seduced by the East, but he realized correctly that the tail could not continue to wag the dog for much longer. Hypocritical morality, be damned.

Bibliography

Fredricksmeyer, E. (2003) Alexander’s religion and divinity. In J. Roisman (ed.) Brill’s Companion to Alexander the Great, 253–278. Leiden, Brill. Graninger, D. (2017) Late Argeads in Thrace: religious perspectives. Ancient History Bulletin 31, 120–144. Greenwalt, W. (1986) Herodotus and the foundation of Argead Macedonia. Ancient World 13, 117–122. Greenwalt, W. (1994) A solar Dionysus and Argead legitimacy. Ancient World 25, 3–8. Greenwalt, W. (2003) Archelaus the Philhellene. Ancient World 34, 131–153

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Greenwalt, W. (2010) Argead dunasteia during the reigns of Philip II and Alexander III. In E. Carney and D.D. Ogden (eds) Philip II and Alexander the Great: Father and Son, Lives and Afterlives, 151–163. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Greenwalt, W. (2011) Royal charisma and the evolution of Macedonia during the reigns of Philip and Alexander. Ancient World 42, 148–156. Greenwalt, W. (2015) Thracian and Macedonian kingship. In J. Valeva, E. Nankov and D. Grainger (eds) A Companion to Ancient Thrace, 337–351. New York, Wiley. Greenwalt, W. (2016) Bucephalus the hero. In D. Powers, J. Hawke and J. Langford (eds) Hetairideia, 80–91. Chicago, Ares. Greenwalt, W. (2017) Alexander II of Macedon. In T. Howe, S. Müller and R. Stoneman (eds) Ancient Historiography on War and Empire, 80–91. Oxford, Oxbow Books. Greenwalt, W. (2019) The assassination of Archelaus and the significance of the Macedonian royal hunt. Karanos: Bulletin of Ancient Macedonian Studies 2, 11–17. Greenwalt, W. (forthcoming) Hermolaus. The Argead hunt and royal prerogative. Archaia Makedonia 8. Pownall, F. (2018) Was Kallisthenes the tutor of Alexander’s royal pages? In T. Howe and F. Pownall (eds) Ancient Macedonians in the Greek and Roman Sources: From History to Historiography, 59–76. Swansea, The Classical Press of Wales.

Chapter 12 Friendship is Golden: Harpalus, Alexander and Athens

Timothy Howe “If you do what we advise,” said [the Thebans to Mardonius the Persian], “you will overcome all their plans without trouble. Send money to the men who hold power in the cities, and by sending it you will divide Greece.”1 Herodotus 9.2.2–3

History has not been kind to Harpalus, son of Machatas. Although a close friend of Alexander the Great, Harpalus is remembered not as a friend but a weak-minded betrayer overwhelmed by personal greed and sexual depravity. As a result, Harpalus’ friendship with Alexander, the man’s own important administrative and policy roles as Alexander’s treasurer and early counselor, and Alexander’s unwavering support of Harpalus have been ignored. This paper offers a change in focus by examining the results of Harpalus’ actions in Greece in the context of other emissaries arriving with gold from the Great King. By using Persian gold like his predecessors Timocrates and Conon, Harpalus divided the Greeks and kept Athens from uniting the Hellenes against a common enemy. Taken in this light, we can see Harpalus as an ambitious member of Alexander’s court who attempted to impress his king by using time-tested tactics to divide the Greeks. The result: unwavering friendship from Alexander and undying hatred and slander from the Athenians. 1

I am honored to offer this paper about Harpalus and Alexander’s friendship to Beth Carney, a dear friend and mentor, whose insights about context and argument regarding Harpalus’ First Flight has shaped my approach to method and source criticism not just here but in all of my work. I must also thank Waldemar Heckel, Sabine Müller, Daniel Ogden and Pat Wheatley for their assistance and constant friendship.



«εἰ δὲ ποιήσεις τὰ ἡμεῖς παραινέομεν,» ἔφασαν λέγοντες, «ἄξεις ἀπόνως πάντα τὰ ἐκείνων ἰσχυρὰ βουλεύματα. Πέμπε χρήματα ἐς τοὺς δυναστεύοντας ἄνδρας ἐν τῇσι πόλισι, πέμπων δὲ τὴν Ἑλλάδα διαστήσεις· ἐνθεῦτεν δὲ τοὺς μὴ τὰ σὰ φρονέοντας ῥηιδίως μετὰ τῶν στασιωτέων καταστρέψεαι.»

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Alexander’s close friend and companion Harpalus, nephew of Phila the second wife of Philip II, was a member of Philip’s court during Alexander’s youth and played a key role in shaping Alexander’s policy. Although Harpalus was of a different age group from his great young friend, he along with several other older men in Philip’s court such as Nearchus, Ptolemy and Erygius, comprised Alexander’s close circle of advisors, trusted with the young prince’s secrets.2 Indeed, we first hear of Harpalus alongside these other three elder hetairoi in relation to Alexander’s earliest recorded act of international diplomacy – the infamous Pixodarus Affair. With these men’s support, Alexander attempted to negotiate a marriage alliance with Pixodarus, satrap of Karia, behind Philip II’s back. When Philip discovered what was afoot, he banished Harpalus, Ptolemy, Erygius and Nearchus from the kingdom.3 After Philip’s murder, Alexander, according to Plutarch (Alex. 10.5) “recalled all of these men and raised them to the highest honors.” For Harpalus, this meant appointment as Alexander’s treasurer, one of the most powerful positions in the young king’s administration and a key indicator of both Alexander’s friendship and confidence in Harpalus’ abilities and loyalty. But this responsibility, so scholars argue, was simply too much for Harpalus’ weak character. While treasurer, Harpalus was overtaken with greed and twice abandoned his post and fled to Greece, taking with him a portion of Alexander’s gold. And yet, Alexander did nothing to punish his friend, going so far as to welcome him back from Greece in 334 and remove those who had been running the treasury while Harpalus was away.4 During the second flight, even though Harpalus left with an even larger sum of money and as many as 6,000 men, the king never repudiated his friend and even went so far as to throw in chains those who slandered Harpalus in public.5 Sayrus ap. Ath. 13.557c. For Harpalus’ family background see Heckel 2016, 218–19. Plut. Alex. 10.4; Arrian Anab. 3.6.5 adds Erygius’ brother Laomedon to the group. For the date and context see Heckel 1981, 51–57; 2016, 220–21. These men were older than Alexander and his policy advisors (ἑταῖροι) not his age-mates (σύντροφοι) and Philip banished them not to punish Alexander by depriving him of his boyhood friends but rather to remove those who were encouraging his son that he should cut his father out of the negotiations with Pixodarus. See Heckel, Howe and Müller 2016, 100–103. 4 For Harpalus’ “first flight”: Arr. Anab. 3.6.4–7; Badian 1960; Heckel 1977a; Carney 1981; Jaschinski 1981, 10–18; Will 1983, 113–27; Worthington 1984a; 1984b; Kingsley 1986; Green 1991, 222; Landucci 1994. 5 For the “second flight”: Diod. 17.108–18.19.1–2; Justin 13.5.7–9; Paus. 1.37.5; 2.33.4; Plut. Mor. 531a–b, 846a–c; Arr. Succ. 1.16 and Frag. 16; Badian 1961; Worthington 1986; 1992, 41–77; 1994; Landucci 1996; Blackwell 1999; Wirth 1999, 105ff.; Müller 2006; Gottesman 2015. Plut. Alex. 41.8 adds additional information though as Carney (1981, 9) puts it “there is nothing in the Plutarch passage which indicates directly whether the story refers to the first flight of Harpalus in 333, or to the second in 324, it is usually assumed to refer to the first because of the unlikelihood that Alexander would have been so surprised a second time.” For linkage to the first flight see Badian 1960, 245, n. 1; Hamilton 1969, 109. I follow Heckel (2016, 225, esp. n. 34), that Plutarch refers to the second flight, not the first (see below). Although there is no evidence that Alexander ever sought to punish Harpalus, Diod. 17.108.7 reports that Olympias and Antipater demanded Athens surrender him and his money. This, together with the later arrival in Athens of Philoxenus, a 2 3

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This curious chain of seemingly contradictory events – Harpalus deciding on his own to fly to Greece with Alexander’s gold and Alexander’s defense of and abiding friendship for Harpalus – has confounded historians and begged explanation since antiquity. Ernst Badian set the scope and scale of the modern narrative, using Diodorus to craft a character-argument that Harpalus was so debauched and greedy that he became fearful Alexander would punish him for his treasonous behavior. In a trend fairly unique in Alexander studies, scholars have largely followed in Badian’s wake, explaining Harpalus’ flights from Alexander’s court as the acts of a weak-minded betrayer who had become overwhelmed by personal greed and fear of retribution.6 As a result, Harpalus’ friendship with Alexander, the man’s own important administrative and policy roles as Alexander’s treasurer and early counselor, and Alexander’s unwavering support of Harpalus have been ignored. Such character-driven answers to the question, “Why did Harpalus leave for Greece?” assume much about Harpalus’ personal motivations but most importantly do not address why Alexander defended Harpalus after both flights but also punished others who betrayed him such as Sitalces and Cleander.7 Moreover, they fail to consider the wider context of Alexander’s complicated relationship with Harpalus. Alexander trusted Harpalus enough early on to risk his relationship with Philip II on Harpalus’ (and his colleagues’) advice and court Pixodarus’ daughter. When Alexander failed in this endeavor, his friends paid the price. They were rewarded for their loyalty. And yet, unlike his three companions in exile, Harpalus is not remembered as a true friend of the king but rather as a rascally weak man, who constantly abused his friendship to pursue personal gain and sexual debauchery. As Beth Carney noted in her analysis of Harpalus’ first flight, there are methodological issues with this approach:8 commander of Alexander’s Mediterranean navy, such as it was, has prompted some to speculate that they did so by Alexander’s command; Paus. 2.33.4; Plut Mor. 531a. As Jaschinski (1981) pointed out Harpalus’ resources would be immensely useful to either Olympias or Antipater as they struggled for dominance in Macedonia; cf. Carney 2006, 51. The same might be said of Philoxenus, who arrives after Harpalus has already been murdered on Crete and as a result seems to be more interested in the gold than the man. Worthington (1985) doubts the authenticity of Pausanias’ account of Philoxenus and argues that it cannot be used to shed light on Harpalus’ flight. 6 Badian 1960; 1961; 2000. See Blackwell (1999, 11–13) and Heckel (2016, 223–227) for recent juxtapositions of Harpalus’ relationship with Alexander with his own character failings. 7 Alexander punished at least 25 satraps, both Greco-Macedonian and Persian. Arr. Anab. 6.15.3, 6.27.3–4, 7.4.1, 7.6.1, Curt. 9.8.9, 9.10.21, 9.10.29, 10.1.1–2, 10.1.39. 8 In addition to Carney’s 1981 analysis of the literary context, Jaschinski (1981) and Müller (2006) have explored the wider setting of Harpalus’ first absence from Alexander’s court and argued convincingly that whatever else he was up to, Harpalus ended up bringing resources to Alexander’s family back in Greece; cf. Landucci 1994. As Heckel (2016, 223) has recently put it, “it seems more likely that Harpalus’ actions were not treasonous.” None go so far to rehabilitate Harpalus as Lane Fox (1973, 222) and Green (1991, 222), who both suggest Harpalus’ first flight is a “spy” mission for Alexander.

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Unless some reason exists to reject the information provided by our sources, any explanation ought to account as fully as possible for such information. In addition, we should be very cautious about introducing hypothetical data or assumptions. (Carney 1981, 9)

Even Badian (1958, 147) in his foundational work on method acknowledges that we should not accept some sources and reject others as untrustworthy or irrelevant. With this in mind, the way to understand Alexander and Harpalus’ friendship is to explain both Alexander’s continued goodwill towards Harpalus and Harpalus’ absence from Alexander’s empire with money and men. In what follows, I’d like to shift away from Harpalus’ character, to focus analysis on the effects his arrival in Greece in 324 BC had on Athens. According to all of the extant sources, the gold Harpalus brought with him to Athens in 324 so distracted the Athenians from war against Alexander that they fell to quarrelling among themselves, going so far as to prosecute Demosthenes, the most ardent critic of Alexander and leader of the anti-Macedonian movement, and exile him for stealing Harpalus’ gold.9 It would seem that Harpalus’ second flight followed well the Theban advice to Mardonius as reported by Herodotus 9.2.2–3 – bring gold to the Greeks and they will fight among themselves.

Harpalus the Degenerate Before we leap into the wider context of Harpalus’ second flight, some prefatory remarks about Diodorus’ “Harpalus-the-degenerate” character argument are necessary. It is worth stressing here that the original, first generation, eye-witness accounts for Harpalus’ and Alexander’s friendship, as well as Harpalus’ actions in Asia and Greece while under Alexander’s command, have not survived to the present day. Instead, we are left with the Roman-era account of Diodorus and his fellow “vulgate” sources Curtius and Trogus-Justin, all of whom built their narratives by researching (i.e. “data-mining”) the parent narratives of Cleitarchus and other 4th- and 3rd-century Alexander authors.10 For these Roman-era writers “the nature of the game was to operate with the material at one’s disposal, identifying and criticizing falsehood and bias, combining details from several sources into a composite picture not paralleled in any single source, but not adding invention of one’s own” (Bosworth 2003, 194). And even if ancient historiographers in the Roman period reported information from their sources as faithfully as Bosworth suggests, they were themselves not immune to embellishment, synthesis and selective reporting in service to their own literary agendas.11 As liter Diod. 18.9. The Athenians had been on the verge of revolt against Alexander before Harpalus showed up; Ashton 1984, 47–57. Tellingly, Harpalus’ arrival in Athens delayed the rebellion until after Alexander’s death. For the revolt of the Greeks against Antipater after Alexander’s death see Walsh 2011; 2015. 10 Goukowsky 2002, xix–xxxi; Prandi 2018. See Hau (2018) for discussion of Diodorus’ narrative agenda, with full references to earlier studies. 11 See, e.g., Woodman 1988, 70–116; Kraus and Woodman 1997, 5–6. 9

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ary artists with their own authorial agendas, Diodorus and his contemporaries sifted through sources, chose what to put in their books, and, finally, chose how to interpret what information they included. Most importantly for our purposes here, though, the Hellenistic- and Roman-era authors used all their rhetorical skills to sway a reader into accepting certain “truths” so they might better understand their own world. All too often the Macedonians served as a distorted mirror for such “truths” when Romans (and Greeks like Diodorus and Plutarch living in a Roman world) sought to mine the past for particular content against which they might weigh the moral implications of contemporary decisions, policies and rulers. As Justin’s epitome of Trogus puts it, “I omitted what did not make pleasurable reading or serve to provide a moral” (praef. 4). To bring this back to Harpalus’ second flight, Diodorus mined the sources at his disposal to present Harpalus, the trusted friend of Alexander, as a man who had become fully corrupted by power, who had become debauched as a result of exposure to eastern decadence. Here, he follows all of the so-called “vulgate” sources in his acceptance of, and engagement with, the topos of oriental depravity (Diod. 17.108.4–7): Harpalus had been given the custody of the treasury in Babylon and of the revenues which accrued to it, but as soon as the king had carried his campaign into India, he assumed that Alexander would never come back, and gave himself up to comfortable living. Although he had been charged as satrap with the administration of a great country, he first occupied himself with the abuse of women and illegitimate amours with the natives and squandered much of the treasure under his control on incontinent pleasure. He fetched all the long way from the Red Sea a great quantity of fish and introduced an extravagant way of life, so that he came under general criticism. Later, moreover, he sent and brought from Athens the most dazzling courtesan of the day, whose name was Pythonice. As long as she lived he gave her gifts worthy of a queen, and when she died, he gave her a magnificent funeral and erected over her grave a costly monument of the Attic type. After that, he brought out a second Attic courtesan named Glycera and kept her in exceeding luxury, providing her with a way of life which was fantastically expensive. At the same time, with an eye on the uncertainties of fortune, he established himself a place of refuge by benefactions to the Athenians. When Alexander did come back from India and put to death many of the satraps who had been charged with neglect of duty, Harpalus became alarmed at the punishment which might befall him. He packed up five thousand talents of silver,12 enrolled six thousand mercenaries, departed from Asia and sailed across to Attica. (trans. adapted from Oldfather, LCL)13 Only Diodorus reports that Harpalus took silver to Athens. Contemporary sources like Demosthenes, Dinarchus and Hyperides agree that Harpalus arrived in Athens with gold. I am inclined to trust them here. 13 Ἅρπαλος δὲ τῶν ἐν Βαβυλῶνι θησαυρῶν καὶ τῶν προσόδων τὴν φυλακὴν πεπιστευμένος, ἐπειδὴ τάχιστα ὁ βασιλεὺς εἰς τὴν Ἰνδικὴν ἐστράτευσεν, ἀπέγνω τὴν ἐπάνοδον αὐτοῦ, δοὺς δ’ ἑαυτὸν εἰς τρυφὴν * καὶ πολλῆς χώρας ἀποδεδειγμένος σατράπης τὸ μὲν πρῶτον εἰς ὕβρεις γυναικῶν καὶ παρανόμους ἔρωτας βαρβάρων ἐξετράπη καὶ πολλὰ τῆς γάζης ἀκρατεστάταις ἡδοναῖς κατανάλωσεν, ἀπὸ δὲ τῆς Ἐρυθρᾶς θαλάσσης πολὺ διάστημα κομίζων ἰχθύων πλῆθος καὶ δίαιταν (5) πολυδάπανον ἐνιστάμενος ἐβλασφημεῖτο. μετὰ δὲ ταῦτ’ ἐκ τῶν Ἀθηνῶν τὴν ἐπιφανεστάτην τῶν ἑταιρῶν ὄνομα Πυθονίκην μετεπέμψατο καὶ ζῶσάν τε αὐτὴν βασιλικαῖς δωρεαῖς ἐτίμησε καὶ μεταλλάξασαν ἔθαψε πολυτελῶς καὶ τάφον κατὰ τὴν Ἀττικὴν κατεσκεύασε (6) πολυδάπανον. 12

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In a way, Diodorus (and perhaps his sources) are not so concerned with Harpalus as such. The real subject is Alexander, as the context of section 108 makes clear. Here, Diodorus is introducing Alexander’s efforts to “Persianize” the Macedonian army. In the section immediately preceding this assessment of Harpalus (108.1–3), Diodorus describes Alexander’s “need” to easternize his army. Alexander had lost the loyalty of the Macedonians, who had mutinied and regularly mocked Alexander’s pretension that Ammon was his father. Immediately after this comes the description of Harpalus as an eastern degenerate reproduced above. If we consider the context of Diodorus’ narrative, the Harpalus section then can be understood to serve as a gloss for Alexander’s own fall into oriental depravity, framed here by Diodorus’ criticism of Alexander’s “pretense” to divine origins. In this sense, it is significant that Diodorus uses eastern royal court ceremony as a signature example of Harpalus’ degeneracy – Harpalus is doubly derided because he performs these to a courtesan!14 Such “royal” honors are given by Greeks and Romans to gods and yet Harpalus, a close friend of Alexander, is now giving them not just to a human but a professional woman to whom he is in sexual thrall.15 For the vulgate sources and their audiences, “eastern” royal honors, such as proskynesis signal barbarian-style depravity, hubris and despotic kingship.16 But there is more to Diodorus’ narrative than just orientalism. The narrative of events seems to blend both the Alexander story and an Athenian historiographic tradition.17 As Müller (2006) has shown, Theopompus (BNJ 115 F 254) uses Harpalus’ performance of proskynesis to his courtesans to denigrate Alexander’s legacy.18 This theme was popular in post-Alexander Athens, as the surviving fragments (?) from the Agen satyr play as reported by Athenaeus show (13.586d; 13.596a–b). The Agen pillories Harpalus’ eastern dress and behavior with Pythonice, and echoes Diodorus’ character assessment.19 And yet, the Agen does not preserve Alexander’s reception of Harpalus’ μετὰ δὲ ταῦτα ἄλλην ἑταίραν Ἀττικὴν ὄνομα Γλυκέραν μεταπεμψάμενος ἐν ὑπερβαλλούσῃ τρυφῇ καὶ πολυδαπάνῳ διαιτήματι διεξῆγεν· εἰς δὲ τὰ παράλογα τῆς τύχης καταφυγὰς ποριζόμενος εὐεργέτει τὸν τῶν Ἀθηναίων δῆμον. τοῦ δὲ Ἀλεξάνδρου μετὰ τὴν ἐξ Ἰνδῶν ἐπάνοδον πολλοὺς τῶν σατραπῶν κατηγορηθέντας ἀνελόντος φοβηθεὶς τὴν τιμωρίαν καὶ συσκευασάμενος ἀργυρίου μὲν τάλαντα πεντακισχίλια, μισθοφόρους δ’ ἀθροίσας ἑξακισχιλίους ἀπῆρεν ἐκ τῆς (7) Ἀσίας καὶ κατέπλευσεν εἰς τὴν Ἀττικήν. 14 In 17.108.5 Diodorus notes that Harpalus gave her royal honors: αὐτὴν βασιλικαῖς δωρεαῖς ἐτίμησε. 15 See Bowden (2013, 56–62) for the literary reception of proskynesis. 16 See Bowden 2013, who argues that the adoption by Alexander of “barbarian” practices reflects Roman prejudices, rather than any concern of Alexander’s contemporaries and as such means that the surviving literary sources do not provide reliable evidence for any real policy actions by Alexander. 17 See below for the lost Satyr play Agen and its relationship to the Athenian historiographic tradition. 18 Cf. Ogden 2009, 17–24. For Theopompus’ complex relationship with Macedonian hegemony and Macedonian kings see Pownall 2002; 2005; 2008. For his winnowing of sources see Pownall 2004, 143–52. 19 It is worth noting Ath. 567f (incorporating Timocles Orestautocleides F 27 K-A and Amphis F 23 K-A), 586c–d (incorporating Theopompus’ Chian Letter, BNJ 115 F 254a, Cleitarchus BNJ 137 F30

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flight, as Badian (1961) and others have assumed.20 As Daniel Ogden (2009, 17–24) has convincingly agued, this lampoon of Harpalus is not a product of Alexander, was never performed for the Macedonian king by his own actors, and must be seen as Athenian in origin.21 We should then see the Agen as an attempt by Athenians to satirize the troubles in Athens brought by Harpalus’ gold, such as the series of accusations and counter-accusations that resulted in the public prosecutions of Demosthenes and other leading statesmen (see below), and not as an accurate account of Alexander’s relationship with Harpalus or an indication of his policy towards Athens. While the causal linkage between the adoption of eastern royal procedure, moral turpitude and Harpalus’ flight might be an original contribution by Diodorus, the fact that Justin (13.5.9) and Curtius (10.2.1–3) have the same narrative order of events – Alexander’s Persianizing of the army and Harpalus’ flight to Athens – despite the presence of a large lacuna in Curtius’ account and Justin’s customary compression of Trogus’ original, suggests that Diodorus’ account is heavily dependent upon Cleitarchus, a common source for Diodorus, Curtius and Trogus-Justin.22 Cleitarchus, writing in the time of Ptolemy II – or perhaps as late as Ptolemy IV – is well known to have used character arguments to drive the causal narrative.23 Moreover, by the time Cleitarchus was writing, the Alexander story had changed much in both Ptolemaic propaganda and public imagination.24 For example, Demetrius Poliorcetes, just like Diodorus’ Harpalus, was heavily criticized for his unnatural devotion to courtesans.25 and Python Agen TGrF 91 F 1), 594d–96b (incorporating Posidonius BNJ 87 F14; Dicaearchus On the descent into Trophonios’ cave, FGrHist IV B 9: Dikaiarchos 1400 Verhassel; Theopompus’ Letter to Alexander, BNJ 115 F 253; and Chian Letter, BNJ 115 F 254b, Philemon Babylonian F 15 K-A, Alexis Lykiskos F 143 K-A, and again Python Agen TGrF 91 F 1), and 605d (incorporating Clearchus F 23 Wehrli), Diod. 17.108.5–6, Paus. 1.37.5 and Plut. Phoc. 22. 20 The fragments of Theopompus and the Agen show an Athens quite hostile to Alexander in the wake of the Exiles Decree of 323. See Dmitriev (2004) and Worthington (2015) for a discussion of Athens’ reception of the Exiles Decree of 332 and resulting hostility to Alexander. 21 For the Alexander scholars who accept that Agen was promoted by Alexander see, e.g. Badian 1961, 42; Jaschinski 1981, 36–39; Worthington 1986; 2003, 178–79; Blackwell 1999, 143; Heckel 2016, 226. This interpretation relies on the work of Süß 1939; Snell 1964, 109–38; Sutton 1980a; 1980b, 75–81. See Cippola (2000) for a recent discussion of the issues surrounding the dating of the Agen and reconstruction of its content. 22 For commentary on Curtius’ account see Atkinson and Yardley 2009, 107–14; for Justin, see Wheatley, Heckel and Yardley 2011, 130. 23 For the downdating of Cleitarchus to the reign of Ptolemy IV, see Parker 2009 and Prandi 2012. See Prandi (1996) and Howe (2015) for analysis of Cleitarchan character arguments. 24 Howe 2014; 2018. 25 Ogden 2009, 18: “The rich extant Athens-based traditions relating to his [Harpalus’] Attic courtesans Pythonice and Glycera and his lavish treatment of them appear to anticipate many aspects of the Athens-based traditions relating to Demetrius Poliorcetes and the later Antigonids.” See Wheatley and Dunn 2020, chapter 12, for a full analysis of the sources that treat the relationship between Demetrius and his courtesans. Ogden (2009, 1–8) also sees parallels with Bilistische the courtesan of Ptolemy II, which might explain Cleitarchus’ engagement with Harpalus and Glycera and Pythonice.

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Harpalus might then serve as a gloss, as context, for contemporary receptions of Demetrius at Alexandria. At this point, it is useful to compare Diodorus’ narrative with the very different view reported by Plutarch (Alex. 41.8):26 [Alexander] chained up the first men who made public the flight and secret escape of Harpalus, namely Ephialtes and Cissus, because they were lying about that man. (τοὺς δὲ πρώτους τὴν Ἁρπάλου φυγὴν καὶ ἀπόδρασιν ἀπαγγείλαντας ἔδησεν, Ἐφιάλτην καὶ Κίσσον, ὡς καταψευδομένους τοῦ ἀνδρός.)

The consensus has been to associate this statement with Harpalus’ first flight. Heckel (2016, 225, n. 34), however, suggests that this would not make good sense. At the time of his first flight Harpalus was in Alexander’s camp, in close proximity to the king as one of his trusted hetairoi. His absence from the camp would be immediately noticed and would not need to be reported to the king by itinerant actors like Cissus and Ephialtes. During the second flight, however, Harpalus was in Babylon and thus not in close proximity to Alexander. At that time, Alexander would not have known of Harpalus’ flight to Athens and thus been surprised by Cissus and Ephialtes’ information. Indeed, the context of this passage suggests that distance and communication are intended, for Plutarch is discussing letters sent by Alexander and the information that he received in return. Moreover, section 41 is thematic in structure and not part of the loose chronological narrative that structures the Life of Alexander. A philological analysis of the language Plutarch uses can shed further light on tone and context. By deploying two words for departure, φυγή (“exile/flight”) and ἀπόδρασις (“flight in secret/escape”), Plutarch is calling attention to the nature of the flight.27 Only one other time in the surviving Plutarchan corpus does he use φυγὴ and ἀπόδρασις in tandem. And in both cases he uses this linkage for effect, to connote a flight of betrayal. In the Aristides (17.2.4), when narrating the maneuvers of the Greek forces before the Battle of Plataea in 479, Plutarch links ἀπόδρασις to φυγὴ in order to highlight the fact that the Spartan Amompharetus feels he and the Lacedaemonians have been betrayed by the Athenians and other Greeks. Here, Amompharetus criticizes the fact that the Greek forces have secretly and dishonestly fled the battle. Amompharetus feels he has been betrayed by the Greek retreat because it happened without his knowledge. And yet, this is a misperception, as Plutarch demonstrates by

26 27

See Howe (2016) for Plutarch’s engagement with Ptolemy in the later chapters of the Alexander. It is significant that Plutarch deploys two words for flight instead of just one as is his practice. Plutarch uses φυγὴ to mean “escape” only in Thes. 29.2.5; Them. 21.5.1; Cam. 35.5.3; 39.4.5; Alc. 32.2.9; Tim. 21.1.2; 28.9.1; Pel. 23.5.5; 32.8.2; Marc. 12.5.2; 18.5.3; 25.10.1; 29.15.5; Arist. 26.2.2; 26.5.3; Pyrrh. 23.7.1. He uses ἀπόδρασις to mean escape from danger in the terms of secret, self-interested flight in Mar. 45.6.3; Cras. 27.6.1; 28.1.1; Pomp. 41.2.1; Cat. Min. 59.5.4; Arat. 40.6.2; Mor. 73 f; 641c; 978a.

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having the Spartan commander Pausanias address the misunderstanding and attempt to convince Amompharetus that no betrayal was intended. A similar misunderstanding seems at play in Alexander 41.8. The actors Cissus and Ephialtes are spreading rumors – so ἀπαγγέλλω implies – that Harpalus went to Athens in betrayal of Alexander.28 The ὡς clause makes the causal connection clear: Alexander arrested these actors because they have in some way lied about Harpalus. If the substance of the lie was the flight itself, Plutarch would have used φυγὴ or even ἀπόδρασις alone. He did not; he used these words in tandem in order to emphasize the nature of the flight just as he did in the Aristides. Plutarch’s use of ἀπόδρασις and φυγὴ suggests then Alexander was angry over the interpretation (the spin) and not the substance of Cissus’ and Ephialtes’ message. The lie here was not that Harpalus had “retreated” from Babylon but rather the assertion that Harpalus had betrayed Alexander by fleeing. It is worth noting here that unlike at Plataea, where Pausanias attempts to clarify Amompharetus’ misunderstanding about the “retreat,” we do not know what happened after Cissus and Ephialtes’ arrest. All studies on the subject assume the actors were released when Alexander learned the “truth” of Harpalus’ betrayal. But Plutarch never returns to this subject and no other source reports what happened to Cissus and Ephialtes. No source reports that Alexander changed his mind. We are simply left with the fact that Alexander came to the defense of his friend and sought to punish a public misrepresentation of Harpalus’ actions. All of this, taken with the very real fact that no source reports that Alexander himself took action against Harpalus, suggests that much of the negative spin derives from contemporary Athenian and later, post-Alexander interpolation. And since the Alexander sources cannot shed more light on this problem, we need to turn elsewhere, to the political speeches of the Athenian politicians who received Harpalus and his gold. 28

Naiden (2019, 227) combines Plutarch (Alex 41.8) and Ephippus (BNJ 126 F 5 = Ath. 12.538a–b) to offer a misleading reconstruction of Alexander’s reaction to Harpalus’ flight: “When news of Harpalus’s flight to Athens reached Alexander, the king was furious. A rumor circulated that he had killed the messenger who brought the news. Alexander threatened to besiege the city. The flight of Harpalus obsessed him so much that his armorer, hoping to win favor, offered to donate the siege equipment.” Sadly, neither Plutarch (Alex. 41.8) nor Athenaeus (12.538a–b) alone or in tandem can support such a fantastic rendering of events. The language of the Plutarch passage does not even imply death, only imprisonment, and Alexander’s anger is directed towards the messengers because they lied about Harpalus. Nothing here suggests that Alexander is also “furious” with Harpalus. Using Athenaeus in this context is even more problematic. Harpalus is never mentioned here. The context is competitive boasting and flattery towards the king at a symposium held in Ecbatana, probably in 324. After the Persians have made outrageous claims, Alexander’s armorer, Gorgos, offers to provide war machines should Alexander attack Athens. Unfortunately, this type of imprecision concerning evidence and reliance of assumption and speculation regarding Harpalus’ flight, and Alexander’s presumed anger at his actions, is all too common in the more recent Alexander biographies; e.g. Worthington 2003, 174–78; Cartledge 2004, 200, 210–11; Freeman 2011, 295–96; Martin and Blackwell 2012, 155; Everitt 2019, 348–50.

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Gold, Athens and Harpalus Once Harpalus left Babylon, he headed to Athens with his gold and his men. Although he was initially rebuffed and had to leave his men and a portion of his gold at Taenarum on the southernmost tip of the Peloponnesus, Harpalus was eventually admitted after paying a sizable bribe to win Demosthenes’s support (Plut. Mor. 846c, 848f). The bulk of Harpalus’ gold, at Demosthenes’ urging, was placed into Athena’s care on the Acropolis.29 That Demosthenes was more interested in the gold than Harpalus was quickly apparent. In his lost defense speech, On the Gold, as reflected in the counter-arguments of his prosecutors Dinarchus and Hyperides, Demosthenes nobly claims that he took the gold only for the salvation of Athens – to save all of Greece from Alexander’s tyranny.30 In response, Dinarchus and Hyperides take great care to dismantle Demosthenes’ assertions, pointing out that even before the trial Demosthenes had pre-emptively submitted himself before the Areopagus to get cleared for having taken Harpalus’ money.31 All along, Demosthenes’ plan was to take Harpalus’ gold and he prepared in advance for any possible repercussions. Demosthenes had followed this same strategy in 335 when he took Persian gold to stir Thebes and Athens against Alexander.32 Demosthenes’ desire for gold would have been known to Harpalus, who was Alexander’s treasurer at the time and so we should not be surprised that Harpalus sought him out. The fact that Harpalus allowed Demosthenes to place his gold on the Acropolis also suggests that Harpalus intended it to go to Athens and not be a “safety net” to support him in his exile from Alexander’s court. The fact that Demosthenes would go to such lengths to insist that he took foreign gold only for the good of the polis and try to shift the blame for any resulting factionalism onto Harpalus suggests that he was fighting against a dominant narrative in Athenian politics. A dominant narrative that he himself clearly articulated 20 years earlier: Listen up Athenians, Arthmius, son of Pythonax of Zelea was declared an outlaw and enemy of the people of Athens with all his family. Why? For being the bearer of foreign gold into the Greek states. So we can see, apparently, that our ancestors took precautions to prevent anyone, Athenian or otherwise, from doing injury to Greece for money. We, however, take no care even to prevent it being done to our own city. (272) Perhaps you suppose this is a chance inscription taken from no matter where. But in fact, though the whole of the Acropolis is sanctified and there is plenty of space on it, this inscription is placed on the right

For Demosthenes’ role in Harpalus’ entry and stay in Athens see Worthington 1996; 2000, 101–106; 2012, 313–38; 2015; cf. Dmitriev 2004. For a chronology of events see Worthington 1986. 30 For the main political rivalries and issues of this period see Anastasiadis 1999; Lawton 2003; Hunt 2010; Krikona 2018. For the rhetorical engagement with Persia see, esp. Llewellyn-Jones 2012. 31 Dinarchus 1.1. See Worthington (1992, 122–27) for context and analysis. 32 Dinarchus 1.10. Worthington 1992, 139–43. Aeschines (3.157) calls Demosthenes out for taking Persian gold in 338 and destroying the lives of the Thebans. 29

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of the great bronze statue of Athena, set up by the city as a symbol of valor in the Persian wars from money presented to Greek states (Dem. 19. 271–272 (De falsa legatione); 346 BC).33 That the past was the opposite I will demonstrate, not by means of any words of my own, but by the written records of your own ancestors, inscribed by them on a bronze tablet on the Acropolis … “Arithmius son of Pythonax of Zelea is without rights and declared an enemy of the people of Athens and their allies, together with his dependents … because he carried Persian money to the Peloponnese.” (Dem. 9. 41–42 (Philippic 3); 341 BC)34

According to Demosthenes, Persian gold damages Greece by causing factionalism. And despite knowing this, despite even Demosthenes himself saying this, gifts of gold worked, every time.35 Alexander the Great and his close advisors like Harpalus knew this. They had seen Philip use gold to divide the Greeks during the war with Olynthus.36 They knew the Persians had used gold during the last 100 years to divide the Greeks and keep them from uniting against a common enemy, especially during their youth in the reign of Philip II.37 They also knew their Herodotus, whose work contains the first clear statement about the effect “Persian” gold might have among the Greeks (9.3.2–3). The official court historian Callisthenes, for example, reworked the lessons of Herodotus about the Great Persian Wars of the 5th century and portrayed Alexander’s assault on the Persian Gates in 331 – Alexander’s invasion into the Persian homeland – as a type of reverse Thermoplylae.38 As Prandi and others have argued, Herodotus’ λοʹγοι formed an important ethnography of the Persian Empire for the intellectuals of Ἀκούετ’, ὦ ἄνδρες Ἀθηναῖοι, τῶν γραμμάτων λεγόντων Ἄρθμιον τὸν Πυθώνακτος τὸν Ζελείτην ἐχθρὸν εἶναι καὶ πολέμιον τοῦ δήμου τοῦ Ἀθηναίων καὶ τῶν συμμάχων αὐτὸν καὶ γένος πᾶν. διὰ τί; ὅτι τὸν χρυσὸν τὸν ἐκ τῶν βαρβάρων εἰς τοὺς Ἕλληνας ἤγαγεν. οὐκοῦν ἔστιν, ὡς ἔοικεν, ἐκ τούτων ἰδεῖν ὅτι οἱ πρόγονοι μὲν ὑμῶν, ὅπως μηδ’ ἄλλος ἀνθρώπων μηδεὶς ἐπὶ χρήμασι μηδὲν ἐργάσεται κακὸν τὴν Ἑλλάδα, ἐφρόντιζον, ὑμεῖς δ’ οὐδὲ τὴν πόλιν αὐτὴν ὅπως μηδεὶς τῶν πολιτῶν ἀδικήσει προορᾶσθε. (272.) νὴ Δί’, ἀλλ’ ὅπως ἔτυχεν ταῦτα τὰ γράμμαθ’ ἕστηκεν. ἀλλ’ ὅλης οὔσης ἱερᾶς τῆς ἀκροπόλεως ταυτησὶ καὶ πολλὴν εὐρυχωρίαν ἐχούσης, παρὰ τὴν χαλκῆν τὴν μεγάλην Ἀθηνᾶν ἐκ δεξιᾶς ἕστηκεν, ἣν ἀριστεῖον ἡ πόλις τοῦ πρὸς τοὺς βαρβάρους πολέμου, δόντων τῶν Ἑλλήνων τὰ χρήματα ταῦτα, ἀνέθηκεν. 34 Ὅτι δ’ οὕτω ταῦτ’ ἔχει τὰ μὲν νῦν ὁρᾶτε δήπου καὶ οὐδὲν ἐμοῦ προσδεῖσθε μάρτυρος· τὰ δ’ ἐν τοῖς ἄνωθεν χρόνοις ὅτι τἀναντί’ εἶχεν ἐγὼ δηλώσω, οὐ λόγους ἐμαυτοῦ λέγων, ἀλλὰ γράμματα τῶν προγόνων τῶν ὑμετέρων ἁκεῖνοι κατέθεντ’ εἰς στήλην χαλκῆν γράψαντες εἰς ἀκρόπολιν… ‘Ἄρθμιος’ φησὶ ‘Πυθώνακτος Ζελείτης ἄτιμος καὶ πολέμιος τοῦ δήμου τοῦ Ἀθηναίων καὶ τῶν συμμάχων αὐτὸςκαὶ γένος.’ … ‘ὅτι τὸν χρυσὸν τὸν ἐκ Μήδων εἰς Πελοπόννησον ἤγαγεν’. 35 Persian gold dividing Greeks: Hdt. 9.3.2–3; 9.5; 9.41; Diod. 11.28.3 (gifts from Mardonius); Thuc. 1.109.2–3; Tissaphernes: Thuc. 7.46.2; Diod 13.37.4–5; Xen. Hell. 1.5.8–9; Plut. Ages. 15.1; Plut. Mor. 211a (gifts from Megabazus); Xen. Hell. 3.5.1–2; Paus. 3.9.8; Plut. Ages. 15.6; Plut. Artax. 20.3; Plut. Lys. 27; Hell. Oxy. 6.3–7.2; Polyaen.1.48.3 (Timocrates); Paus. 3.9.2; Diod. 14.81.4–5; 14.84.5; Nepos Conon, 4.1 (Conon). Cf. Nepos Epam. 4.1–2; Plut. Pel. 30 (attempts to bribe Thebans). See Pearlman 1976; Wolski 1973 and Lewis 1989 for discussion of the “Persian Gold” phenomenon. 36 E.g., Diod. 16.54.4; Dem. 8.40; 9.56; 19.265, 342. 37 E.g., Dem. 9. 41–42 (Philippic 3); 10.51 (Philippic 4); Aeschin. 2.358. 38 As reported by Polyaen. 4.3.27. See Howe (2015) for discussion and references. 33

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the 4th century.39 One of those leading intellectuals, Aristotle, uncle of Callisthenes, taught Alexander and Harpalus during the king’s youth. Finally, Alexander and his friends had experienced the effects of Persian gold firsthand as Darius III sent gold to various Greeks to prohibit them from supporting Alexander’s conquest of Persia. The end result of this was the failed revolt of Agis III.40 Harpalus’ flight to Athens and its disastrous effect on the Athenian anti-Macedonian cause should be seen in this light.41 Persian gold spawned dissention and Demosthenes had a history of taking it. But what is even more significant is that Harpalus’ actions follow a pattern among gold-bearing “refugees” from the Persian king such as Conon of Athens and Timocrates of Rhodes.42 Unfortunately, modern scholars have focused so tightly on Harpalus’ character that parallels with other gold-laden flights have escaped notice. But if we can see the second flight of Harpalus as something similar to the mission of Timocrates of Rhodes in 386 BC, whose story Athenians seem to have nuanced in their favor, much like Demosthenes attempted to do with Harpalus’ arrival in 324, then we might be able to reconcile the apparent discrepancy between Alexander’s “failure” to punish Harpalus and Harpalus’ dedicated efforts to bring his gold and give it over to various Athenians. Timocrates of Rhodes came to the Athenians in 386 BC. In his Hellenica (3.5.1–2), Xenophon explains the backstory: Tithraustes, the Persian satrap in Sardis, suspected that the Spartan king Agesilaus would betray the Persians by not handing over the Ionian Greeks – Sparta had agreed to turn over Ionia in return for Persian support during the Peloponnesian War. Not able to deal with the situation directly, because Agesilaus had not yet reneged, Tithraustes sent Timocrates to spread money around and thereby get the Athenians and other Greeks to ally against Sparta and force Agesilaus to return to Greece to deal with them. Tithraustes wanted to defuse the Spartan threat to Asia Minor but he did not want to commit his own army or deal with it personally in case he failed. To put it another way: Tithraustes wanted to claim the credit for neutralizing the Spartan threat but he did not want to face the Great King’s punishment if his plan failed.43 And so he worked through an intermediary – Prandi 1985, 82–83. Cf. Marincola 2007; Llewellyn-Jones 2012. Plut. Mor. 327c-d (De fort. Alex.) reports that “Persian gold flowed freely through the hands of the popular leaders everywhere, and helped to rouse the Peloponnesus” (τὸ δὲ Περσικὸν χρυσίον διὰ τῶν ἑκασταχοῦ δημαγωγῶν ῥέον ἐκίνει τὴν Πελοπόννησον). The result was the failed revolt of Agis III in 331. 41 See Ashton (1983) and Walsh (2015) for analysis of the destabilizing effect Harpalus’ gold had on Athens. Indeed, Ashton (1983, 56–57) argues that had Harpalus not arrived when he did, Athens would have voted for war against Alexander. 42 For Conon and Timocrates see Xenophon, Hell. 3.5.1–2; cf. Hell Oxy. 6.3–7.2. For a discussion of the historical context see Hyland 2017, 149–56. 43 It is clear that Xenophon wants the reader to understand that Tithraustes acted on his own, in the context of the power politics between Sardis and Phrygia and not at the behest of the Persian king. Tithraustes used gold here as a scatter-gun to try to stop Agesilaus, much as Herodotus had recommended. According to Xenophon, anything that distracted Agesilaus was good enough 39 40

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Timocrates. At the same time, Tithraustes’ rival, the satrap of Phrygia, Pharnabazus was thinking much the same thing. He sent Conon the Athenian with ships and gold to stir up the Athenians against Sparta. Both of these satraps were using gold to divide the Greeks and turn their attention away from Persia, all seemingly without the knowledge of the king.44 For Xenophon, the main movers in this drama are Agesilaus and his immediate foes, Tithraustes and Pharnabazus, whom he presents as great rivals for Artaxerxes’ favor.45 The more Athens-focused Oxyrhynchus Historian (Hell Oxy. 6.3–7.2), however, shifts the focus away from the Persians and the gold altogether, arguing that while Timocrates did bring gold from Persia it failed to distract the Athenians because a greater cause, hatred of the Spartans motivated Athens to unite all of the Greeks against Agesilaus.46 An even more Athens-centered tradition, reminiscent of Demosthenes’ defense arguments in 335 and 324, can be seen in Polyaenus’ account of Conon’s mission (Strat. 1.48.3). The common themes of rivalry between Persian satraps and Athenian “corrections” of the narrative are significant context for the surviving narratives of Harpalus’ flight to Athens in 324. In 324, Harpalus left the Persian Empire for Athens with gold, much like Conon and Timocrates had done 60 years earlier. Once the destabilizing effect of that gold becomes apparent, the other “satraps” in the region – Antipater, Olympias and Philoxenus, Alexander’s governor in Sardis – enter the narrative and demand Harpalus and his gold from Athens. That is, these “satraps” try to counter Harpalus’ influence and take control of the situation.47 As Heckel has shown in his analysis of the Philotas Affair, competition drove the actions of Alexander’s hetairoi, no less than it did the elites of the Persian court.48 Like Tithraustes and Pharnabazus, Harpalus, Antipater, Olympias and Philoxenus were in competition. And like Tithraustes in 386, Harpalus took it upon himself to defuse the situation in Greece by spreading around Alexander’s Persian gold. Like Pharabazos, Antipater, Olympias and Philoxenus played catch up. for Tithraustes. Given Xenophon’s friendship with Agesilaus it is perhaps understandable that the Spartan king would be the center of the action. See Hyland (2017, 149–51) for an analysis of Tithraustes’ actions. 44 Cf. Paus. 3.9.7–8; Plut. Artax. 20.4–6; Lys. 27, who have compressed the narrative and elided the role of the satraps in order to frame this in simple terms as the Persian king vs the Hellenes. 45 It seems that Tithraustes acted on his own because of this rivalry. He wanted to deliver a “win” to the king and thereby show that he was a better subject than Pharnabazus. Hyland 2017, 149–51. 46 For the Oxyrhynchus Historian, see Bruce 1967 and Occhipinti 2016. 47 Diod. 17.108.7 reports that Olympias and Antipater demanded Athens surrender him and his money. Paus 2.33.4; Plut. Mor. 531a record Philoxenus’ involvement, though Worthington (1985) discounts Pausanias’ evidence as Athenian propaganda. What is clear, though, in all of these accounts, is that Harpalus’ gold, and his control of it, is at the center. Olympias, Antipater and Philoxenus want the gold out of Harpalus’ hands. Surrendering him to Alexander, if that is a goal, seems less important and immediate. 48 Heckel 1977b. See Weber (2009) for further analysis of the role of competition as a driving motivator in Alexander’s court.

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Not having access to Alexander’s treasury, they tried to acquire the gold Harpalus left at both Taenarum and Athens. Harpalus had a track record of taking risks on his king’s behalf: in 336 he supported Alexander against Philip II; in 334 he went to Greece for unknown reasons and was welcomed back by Alexander and given greater responsibility – supervision of all the gold of the Persian Empire and residency in Babylon while Alexander continued East. While we do not know the substance of Harpalus’ actions in 334, Alexander did not seem upset by them. Indeed, one could argue that Alexander was pleased with the result and that is why he trusted Harpalus with all of the gold he had taken from the Persian capitals. Alexander seems to have trusted Harpalus’ judgement enough that he left him in charge of this massive fortune for years while away in Bactria and India. And so we come to 324. Putting aside the character argument, we know that Harpalus travelled to Athens with Alexander’s gold, which the Athenians fell upon like vultures and by fighting among themselves quelled the largest threat to Alexander’s Greek peace. Like Tithraustes and Pharnabazus, Harpalus acted on his own, unbeknownst to the Great King of Persia. The sources are unanimous that Alexander in 324, just like Artaxerxes in 386, was not unhappy with the results.

Conclusions The methodology deployed here, which owes much to Beth Carney’s study of Harpalus’ first flight, places heavy emphasis on textual and historical context. I do not deny that Harpalus made an unauthorized departure from Alexander’s realm in 324. But I do question the common assumption that Harpalus did this because his personal greed led him to betray his great friend. As Plutarch tells us, Alexander took pains to correct the record that this unauthorized departure was not a betrayal of the king. Alexander’s neutrality on Harpalus’ second flight and continued friendship with the man is borne out by the fact Alexander took no action to punish Harpalus or repudiate their friendship. From this, one conclusion seems most likely: Alexander tacitly supported Harpalus. As the “last of the Achaemenids,” as Pierre Briant (2002, 876) calls him, and as a good student of Herodotus and Xenophon, Alexander would surely have known about past Persian policies. In fact, Alexander had seen during his lifetime how Persian gold had divided the Greeks. He could also see the result of Harpalus’ second flight and understand how it served his interests. Throughout his time with Alexander, Harpalus made some risky moves, for which he paid a price – Philip exiled him in 336 for his role in the Pixodarus Affair and Alexander’s hetairoi suspected his ambitions in 334 (so Arrian Anab. 3.6.4–7). They were right, in a sense. Harpalus was an ambitious man; why else would he support the young Alexander instead of taking the safe route and support his uncle-by-marriage Philip II during the negotiations with Pixodarus? Alexander’s mobile court was a rather cut-throat place, where big risks could pay off or could end in personal disaster (e.g. Philotas). The contextual picture that emerges is that Harpalus takes risks and reaps rewards. In this he resembles those of Alexander’s

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hetairoi who went on to become the Diadochoi. By leaving Alexander for a second time, Harpalus took the largest risk yet that again yielded a positive result – Athens was distracted and did not lead an insurgency against Macedon. That Alexander did not send men to arrest Harpalus during his second flight, and went so far as to imprison some Athenians who were slandering Harpalus while he was away making trouble in Athens, seems confirmation of Alexander’s lack of concern over Harpalus’ departure from Babylon with gold and men. In the final analysis, we should not see Harpalus as a decadent and debauched man who had “gone Persian.” Harpalus was an ambitious member of Alexander’s court and close friend of the king. And, as I have suggested here, that friendship was “golden.”

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Müller, S. (2006) Alexander, Harpalos, Pythionike und Glykera. Überlegungen zu den Repräsentationsformen des Schatzmeisters in Babylon und Tarsos. In V. Licia (ed.) Philia, Festschrift für G. Wirth, 71–106. Galatzi, Academica. Naiden, F.S. (2019) Soldier, Priest, God: A Life of Alexander the Great. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Occhipinti, E. (2016) The Hellenica Oxyrhynchia and Historiography: New Research Perspectives. Leiden, Brill. Ogden, D. (2009) Courtesans and the sacred in the early Hellenistic courts. In T. Scheer and M.A. Lindners (eds) Tempelprostitution im Altertum – Fakten und Fiktionen. Oikumene 6, 344–376. Berlin, Verlag Antike. Parker, V. (2009) Source-critical reflections on Cleitarchus’ work. In P. Wheatley and R. Hannah (eds) Alexander and His Successors: Essays from the Antipodes, 28–55. Claremont, CA, Regina. Perlman, S. (1976) On bribing Athenian ambassadors. Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 17, 223–233. Pownall, F. (2002) Theopompus’ view of Demosthenes. In M. Joyal (ed.) Altum: Seventy-Five Years of Classical Studies in Newfoundland, 63–7. St John’s, Newfoundland, Memorial University of Newfoundland. Pownall, F. (2004) Lessons from the Past. The Moral Use of History in Fourth-Century Prose. Ann Arbor, University of Michigan Press. Pownall, F. (2005) The rhetoric of Theopompus. Cahiers des Études Anciennes 42, 255–78. Pownall, F. (2008) Theopompos and the public documentation of fifth-century Athens. In C. Cooper (ed.) Epigraphy and the Greek Historian, 119–28. Toronto, University of Toronto Press. Prandi, L. (1985) Callisthene. Milan, Jaca. Prandi, L. (1996) Fortuna e realtà dell’opera di Clitarco. Stuttgart, Steiner. Prandi, L. (2012). New evidence for the dating of Cleitarchus (POxy LXXI.4808)? Histos 6, 15–26. Prandi, L. (2018) A monograph on Alexander the Great within a universal history: Diodoros Book XVII. In L.I. Hau, A. Meeus and B. Sheridan (eds) Diodorus of Sicily: Historiographical Theory and Practice in the Bibliotheke, 175–88. Leuven, Peeters. Snell, B. (1964) Scenes from Greek Drama. Berkeley and Los Angeles, University of California Press. Süß, W. (1939) Zum Satyrdrama Agen. Hermes 74, 210–16. Sutton, D.F. (1980a) Harpalus als Pallides. Rheinisches Museum für Philologie 123, 96. Sutton, D.F. (1980b) The Greek Satyr Play. Meisenham am Glan, Hain. Walsh, J. (2011) The Lamiaka of Choerilus of Iasos and the genesis of the term ‘Lamian War.’ Classical Quarterly 61, 538–44. Walsh, J. (2015) Antipater and the Lamian War: a study in 4th century Macedonian counterinsurgency doctrine. Ancient History Bulletin 29, 1–27. Weber, G. (2009) The court of Alexander the Great as social system. In W. Heckel and L. Tritle (eds) Alexander the Great: A New History, 83–98. Malden, MA, Wiley. Wheatley, P. and Dunn, C. (2020). Demetrius the Besieger. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Wheatley, P., Heckel, W. and Yardley, J.C. (2011) Justin. Epitome of the Philippic History of Pompeius Trogus. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Will, W. (1982) Athen und Alexander. Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der Stadt von 338 bis 322 v. Chr. München, Beck. Wirth, G. (1999) Hypereides, Lykurg und die αὐτονοµία der Athener: Ein Versuch zum Verständnis einiger Reden der Alexanderzeit. Vienna, Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften. Wolski, J. (1973) ‘ΜΗΔΙΣΜΟΣ’ et son importance en Grèce à l’époque des Guerres Médiques. Historia 22, 3–15 Woodman, A.J. (1988) Rhetoric in Classical Historiography. London, Taylor and Francis. Worthington, I. (1984a) Harpalus and the Macedonian envoys. Liverpool Classical Monthly 9, 47–8. Worthington, I. (1984b) The first flight of Harpalus reconsidered. Greece and Rome 3, 161–9. Worthington, I. (1985) Pausanias II 33,4–5 and Demosthenes. Hermes 113, 123–5.

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Worthington, I. (1986a) The chronology of the Harpalus affair. Symbolae Osloensis 61, 63–76. Worthington, I. (1986b) IG II 1631, 1632 and Harpalus’ ships. Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 65, 222–24. Worthington, I. (1992) A Historical Commentary on Dinarchus. Rhetoric and Conspiracy in Later Fourth-Century Athens. Ann Arbor, University of Michigan Press. Worthington, I. (1994a) The Harpalus affair and the Greek response to the Macedonian hegemony. In I. Worthington (ed.) Ventures into Greek History, 307–30. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Worthington, I. (1994b) Alexander and Athens in 324/3: on the Greek attitude to the Macedonian hegemony. Mediterranean Archaeology 7, 45–51. Worthington, I. (2000) Demosthenes’ (in)activity during the reign of Alexander the Great. In I. Worthington (ed.) Demosthenes: Statesman and Orator, 90–113. New York, Routledge. Worthington, I. (2003) Alexander the Great: Man and God. London, Pearson. Worthington, I. (2012) Demosthenes of Athens and the Fall of Classical Greece. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Worthington, I. (2015) From east to west: Alexander and the exiles decree. In P. Wheatley and E.J. Baynham (eds) East and West in the World Empire of Alexander, 93–106. Oxford, Oxford University Press.

Chapter 13 Mithridates Ctistes and Demetrius Poliorcetes: Erastes and Eromenos?*

Pat Wheatley In chapter four of his Life of Demetrius, Plutarch records an incident in which the Besieger is forced into an uncharacteristic act of disobedience to his father, Antigonus the One-Eyed. Learning from the latter under oath of silence that his friend, the young Persian nobleman Mithridates, is to be executed on account of a paranoid prophetic dream, Demetrius draws him aside one day and inscribes on the ground with the butt of his lance the words “Φεῦγε, Μιθριδάτα!” Mithridates comprehends his peril, and vanishes that night, later to fight against the Antigonids at the crucial battle of Ipsus in 301 BC, and become Mithridates I Ctistes (Founder), the first king of Pontus. This essay examines the timing and context of Plutarch’s cameo, as well as the relationship between these two important early Hellenistic dynasts, and some political ramifications of sexual relationships among the aristocracy. An anecdote from Hellenistic historiography that is generally overlooked in the context of “affective relations and personal bonds” is the story of Demetrius “The Besieger of Cities,” and the Persian nobleman, Mithridates Ctistes. Plutarch is our source: To prove that Demetrius in his early years was by nature humane and loyal to his friends, the following example can be quoted. Mithridates, the son of Ariobarzanes, was the same age as Demetrius and a close friend and companion. He was one of Antigonus’ courtiers, but although he enjoyed a well-earned position of trust, he incurred the king’s suspicion on account of a dream. Antigonus had dreamt that he was crossing a large and beautiful field and was sowing it with gold-dust. At first a crop of gold immediately sprang up, but when after a little while he returned to the field, he could see nothing but stubble. Then, in his *

I am grateful for the chance to offer this paper to Professor Carney, who has always treated me with great kindness, and who has been a force for good in the modern Classics world. I particularly thank Professor Duane Roller for generously sharing his pre-publication manuscript of Empire of the Black Sea with me in time for it to enhance this essay, and I also thank the Editors for their patience and goodwill.

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disappointment and vexation he seemed to hear a number of voices saying that Mithridates had gathered the golden harvest for himself and escaped to the coast of the Black Sea. The vision preyed on Antigonus, and so he sent for his son and, after making him take an oath of silence, he described to him what he had seen and added that he had decided to rid himself of Mithridates. Demetrius was greatly distressed at this, but when the young man arrived, as was his habit, to spend the day with the prince, Demetrius did not dare to refer to the subject or to warn him of the danger, on account of the oath he had sworn. Instead, he drew him aside, away from his friends, and when they were alone together he wrote on the ground with the butt of his spear as the other watched him, the words “Fly, Mithridates!” (Φεῦγε, Μιθριδάτα!). Mithridates understood and made his escape by night to Cappadocia. But not long afterwards, fate caused Antigonus’ vision to come to pass. Mithridates made himself master of a large and prosperous territory, and founded the dynasty of the kings of Pontus, which was put to an end some eight generations later by the Romans. At any rate, the story may serve to illustrate Demetrius’ natural tendency to behave in a just and humane fashion. (Plut. Demetr. 4, trans. Duff, mod.)

There is some controversy over the timing of this incident, which was traditionally placed in 302/1; however, the sources provide certain clues which make 315/14 more likely.1 It is appropriate that Demetrius, one of the founders of a royal dynasty himself, should be closely associated with another dynastic progenitor: Mithridates, founder of the Pontic kingdom. The tale of how Demetrius saved his friend from the paranoid suspicions of his father is repeated with differing embroidery by Plutarch in the Moralia, and also by his contemporary, Appian, in the Mithridateios.2 The prophetic dream is of course suspect, redolent of post eventum romanticism: by the time of Plutarch and Appian it was well known that Mithridates did indeed prosper, becoming the founder of a dynasty of Pontic kings that did not end until 63 BC, and the greatness of the line had to be recognised and feared in prospect.3 However, the flight from court seems historical, and most scholars would accept it, but the timing of the dream and its sequel is of some interest, as are the implications for Demetrius’ personal life. The favored date for the episode has been immediately prior to the campaign of Ipsus in 302/01, and the execution of Mithridates’ homonymous relative, the ruler of Cius and Myrleia in Mysia, whose kingdom he inherited.4 The problem implicit For earlier bibliography and discussion of the dating, see Bosworth and Wheatley 1998, 161–64; Rose 2015, 134–36. 2 Plut. Demetr. 4; cf. Mor. 183a; App. Mithr. 9.28 = Hieronymus FGrHist 154 F 3; Ps. Luc. Macrob. 13 = Hieronymus FGrHist 154 F 7; cf. Tert. De anima 46. A similar tale is told of Demetrius and Seleucus by Lib. Orat. 11.80–1; see Downey 1959, 662; Primo 2008, 410–15; 2009, 264; and now Ogden 2017, 92–94. 3 See e.g. Brenk 1975, 344; Hornblower 1981, 245; Billows 1990, 404–405. For discussion of similar anecdotes concerning Seleucus, see Hadley 1969; Grainger 1990, ch. 1; Ogden 2017, ch. 1. The tale is archetypal, but the locus classicus for such material is Herodotus’ story of the prophetic dream of Astyages (Hdt. 1.107–30). 4 Diodorus (20.111.4) sets the Mysian dynast’s execution in the archon year of Nicocles (302/01). The site of Cius on the Propontis is well-known, though it is not mentioned again as an ancestral seat for the Pontic kingdom: see, definitively, Roller 2020, 27–28. Myrleia (Μυρλείας), nearby to 1

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in this dating went for a long time unrecognised: it runs counter to the details in the sources, which suggest that Demetrius’ warning to Mithridates took place much earlier than 302.5 The context of Plutarch’s evidence is significant. It occurs near the beginning of the Life, and is explicitly linked with the earlier part of Demetrius’ career.6 Now, one of Plutarch’s principal aims is to document and contrast the progressive moral decay experienced by both his protagonists, Demetrius and Antony,7 and the story of Mithridates is perfectly suited to this purpose. Demetrius began his life with a natural inclination towards decency and justice, and the erosion of those qualities is illustrated as the narrative progresses. There may of course be chronological distortion. Plutarch might have transposed the story from its historical context and elevated it into a timeless example of Demetrius’ generous qualities. The details of the story, however, corroborate Plutarch’s setting at the beginning of Demetrius’ career, immediately before his appointment to Syria in 314–13. That tallies nicely with an aspect of the version that appears in the Moralia, where Demetrius wrote his warning in the sand while they walked beside the sea,8 and the context of the siege of Tyre is entirely appropriate for the incident. It is a time when Demetrius, fresh from his first commands at the battles of Paraetacene and Gabiene, would have been attracting a personal following,9 and young men such as Mithridates, who were probably captured or surrendered after Gabiene, were evidently among them. Demetrius and Mithridates may well have faced and admired each other on the battlefield, and would have had at least two years for their bond to develop.10 With what can be Cius, is a textual irregularity offered by Geer in the Loeb ed. However, the Budé editor prefers the original Ἀρρίνης, from the R (Codex Parisinus) MS, though Μαρίνης, Μερίνης, and Καρίνης, all of which lead to further geographical confusion, have also been suggested; for the MS pedigree and possibilities see Durvye 2018, cvii, and 150, with 274, n. 743. 5 Scholars who date Plutarch’s anecdote to 302 include Meyer 1879, 37; Reinach 1890, 6–7; McGing 1986a, 15; 1986b; Grainger 1990, 184; Billows 1990, 404–405; 1995, 104–106; Kobes 1996, 96, 168. In earlier scholarship only Jacoby, FGrHist 2D (Kommentar), 545–46; and Hornblower 1981, 244 were aware of the problem, but drew no conclusions; cf. Durvye 2018, 275, n. 744; and now Roller 2020, 30–33 for the correct sequence of events. 6 Plut. Demetr. 4.1: Τοῦ μέντοι καὶ φιλάνθρωπον φύσει καὶ φιλεταῖρον γεγονέναι τὸν Δημήτριον ἐν ἀρχῇ παράδειγμα τοιοῦτόν ἐστιν εἰπεῖν (“To prove that in his early years Demetrius was by nature humane and loyal to his friends, the following example can be quoted” trans. Duff). There is perhaps some slight ambiguity in the Greek: ἐν ἀρχῇ could conceivably be taken as a compositional note (“this is my first example”), but it reads far more naturally as a reference to the start of Demetrius’ career; cf. Demetr. 4.5: “At any rate, the story may serve to illustrate Demetrius’ natural tendency to behave in a just and humane fashion”; with Rose 2015, 135–36, citing resonances early in Plutarch’s Life of Alcibiades (cf. Alc. 1.5; 4.1–2; 6.1); and Jacobs 2018, 331. 7 See, for instance, Demetr. 1.7; Synk. 4.2–3, 5.2, 6.2; cf. Eum. 18.6. The anecdote makes an effective contrast with passages such as Demetr. 40.2, 42.1–4. 8 Plut. Mor. 183a. At Demetr. 4.3 it is simply stated that the message was written on the ground. 9 Diod. 19.29.4; 19.40.1. On Demetrius’ early charisma, see Diod. 19.81. 10 Diod. 19.40.1 (Demetrius commands Antigonus’ right at Gabiene); 40.2 (Mithridates stationed opposite him on Eumenes’ left). Hieronymus, who was also present in the battle, was doubtless aware of the friendship between the young men. Having observed their proximity in the

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pieced together about their early lives, they may even have met earlier. Demetrius was brought up at Celaenae in Greater Phrygia, not a great distance from Mithridates’ ancestral home at Cius and Myrleia in Mysia, or Mariandynia to the east. It is quite probable that Demetrius met his wife-to-be, Phila, when he was younger, while she was residing with her first husband, Balacrus, the satrap of neighboring Cilicia. By the same token relations between the Antigonid headquarters and the subject minor Persian dynasties are just as likely, and there may have been some intercourse between Phrygia and Mysia during the same period.11 At any rate, plenty of scenarios can be hypothesised whereby Demetrius and Mithridates become acquainted as minors in the 320s, and unavoidably after 317. Another feature of Plutarch’s story practically excludes a dating as late as 302. After 314 Demetrius and Antigonus tended to operate independently, and were seldom together.12 There is no doubt that the old man was the senior partner and Demetrius consistently deferred to him in general matters of strategy and policy, but the only joint campaign conducted before Ipsus was the Egyptian expedition of autumn 306. From this point on, apart from the occasional fleeting meeting, father and son had little personal contact.13 The year 302 is excluded in its entirety, as Demetrius campaigned continuously in Greece and Asia Minor from early 304 until Ipsus, and there is no recorded meeting with Antigonus, who spent his last years overseeing his new city foundation of Antigoneia-on-the-Orontes, in Upper Syria. The context of the warning to Mithridates also suggests that Demetrius was at a very junior stage of his career.14 After 306, when he received the royal title alongside his father, he was virtually an independent agent. It is unlikely that Antigonus would have endangered one of his intimates against his wishes,15 and Demetrius would hardly need to resort to such engagement, he may have ironically stressed Mithridates’ distinction, implicitly looking forward to his future vicissitudes; see also Hornblower 1981, 245; Primo 2008, 420–23. D’Agostini (2016, 91–92) astutely suggests that, while writing his history much later in Gonatas’ court, Hieronymus preserved the story with the blessing of his patron, who may have recalled how important Mithridates was to his father, and whose filial affection was well-known: cf. Plut. Demetr. 53.1–7. 11 On Demetrius’ upbringing, see Wheatley and Dunn 2020, 9–14; and cf. 29–34 for the development of his relationship with Phila. 12 The rare exceptions are mid-311 to 310, during the reoccupation of Phoenicia and Syria; late 309 to early 307 after Antigonus’ return from Babylonia; autumn 306 to early 305 during the abortive invasion of Egypt; and possibly early 304, immediately after the siege of Rhodes. 13 The anecdote at Plut. Demetr. 19.6, for instance, in which Antigonus alludes ironically to Demetrius’ relations with Lamia, must come after Salamis, where the celebrated courtesan was captured (Demetr. 16.5); see Wheatley 2003, 33; and Wheatley and Dunn 2020, 167. 14 There are several anecdotes that illustrate Antigonus’ supervision of his sons early in life: e.g. Plut. Demetr. 23.6, 28.10; Mor. 182b; cf. Frontin. Str. 4.1.10; see also Billows 1990, 9–10 and 419–21. 15 Mithridates cannot have remained with Antigonus while Demetrius was abroad, or the anecdote makes no sense, and the sources agree Mithridates was Antigonus’ courtier (Plut. Demetr. 4.1), and was with him in Syria: cf. App. Mithr. 9.27: Ἀντίγονος μὲν ἦρχε Συρίας Λαομέδοντα ἐκβαλών, Μιθριδάτης δ᾽αὐτῷ συνῆν (contra Diod. 18.43.2, who states that a certain Nicanor expelled Laomedon; see Wheatley 1995, 433–34).

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elaborate subterfuge to save Mithridates. For the anecdote to be at all intelligible, Demetrius must be in proximity to his father: the episode belongs to a period when Demetrius was relatively young, and under his father’s watchful eye. Mithridates is described by Plutarch as a youth (νεανίσκος) and coeval of Demetrius, though other evidence indicates that he was born around 350, and was therefore about 14 years older. In that case he must have been about 36 in 314, somewhat old to be termed νεανίσκος, which raises the question of how the term “young man” was defined in Greek culture.16 Possibly Plutarch is exaggerating, making a vague reference in his source misleadingly precise. He is certainly capable of superimposing his own interpretation, and it may be that Mithridates’ age in Pseudo-Lucian’s Macrobioi (84) is also incorrect; this material is difficult to rationalise. Moreover, to add to the uncertainty, the year of Mithridates’ death is entirely dependent on a highly compressed entry in Diodorus, which is itself problematic. The reality is that we cannot know for sure how close in age the two friends were, and it is likely that all the sources have conspired to distort the evidence.17 Appian’s version of the episode is far more condensed than Plutarch’s, and is somewhat garbled, but his source also placed Antigonus in Syria at the time of Mithridates’ flight, and explained his presence in the area. That clearly entailed a digression, providing Antigonus’ pretext for intervention there: Ptolemy’s occupation was unwarranted, and was therefore open to challenge from Antigonus. That is consistent with Plutarch’s contextual setting of the flight of Mithridates shortly after Antigonus’ occupation of Syria. Other details in Appian supplement Plutarch’s story. Antigonus wished to arrest and kill Mithridates, who escaped with six horsemen.18 There is no reference to Demetrius’ part in the affair, but then nothing excludes it In Plutarch the term νεανίσκος is applied to Leotychidas in his early teens (Lys. 22.4), to the Spartan king, Agis IV, when he was about 20 (Agis 10.1), and to Octavian at the age of 23 (Ant. 33.2). The highest age for a νεανίσκος in Plutarch seems to be that of Piso Licinianus, who was murdered in his 31st year (Galb. 19.1; 27.4). Some discussion of the matter may be found in Mansfeld 1979, 43; and 1980, 90, who observes that people were still described as “young” up to the age of 30; see also Tazelaar 1967, 144–53. A further parallel that springs to mind is that of Cassander, who is referred to by Diodorus (18.48.5) as ὄντα νέον, but who was born between 358 and 354, and was at least 35 and possibly 39 at the time of his father’s death in 319; on his birthdate see Adams 1974, 42; Heckel 2006, 79. 17 Plut. Demetr. 4.1; Ps. Luc. Macrob. 13 (= FGrHist 154 F 7), citing “Hieronymus and the other historians” asserts that he lived to be 84; cf. Diodorus (20.111.4), who states that he inherited his uncle’s kingdom in 302, and ruled for 36 years (therefore giving a death date of 266 BC). For the historiographic complications associated with Mithridates’ lifespan, see Bosworth and Wheatley 1998, 163; and Roller 2020, 29–30 (who prefers a later birthdate for the Persian dynast). 18 Appian, Mithr. 9.28: καὶ ὁ μὲν αὐτὸν ἐπὶ τῷδε συλλαβὼν ἐβούλετο ἀποκτεῖναι, ὁ δ᾽ἐξέφυγε σὺν ἱππεῦσιν ἕξ, taking συλλαβὼν closely with ἀποκτεῖναι. The Greek suggests that Mithridates was actually detained: “He [Antigonus] arrested him for this, and planned to execute him, but Mithridates escaped with six horsemen” (trans. McGing, Loeb ed. 2019, mod.). That, to put it mildly, would have complicated his escape, and is at variance with Plutarch. 16

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either. Appian does not contradict Plutarch’s implicit dating at the start of Demetrius’ career, and his reference to Antigonus’ presence in Syria tends to corroborate it. Mithridates’ flight, then, is best placed in or around 314, when he fell into disfavor with Antigonus, and was warned by Demetrius to leave court post-haste. Whether Antigonus actually had a dream presaging his future greatness may well be doubted. It was precisely the type of retrospective prophecy that would have been fabricated after the creation of the Pontic kingdom. The truth may have been more sordid and less sensational. Antigonus’ court certainly became too hot for Mithridates, but he was probably not seen as a future dynast in the making. He could therefore retire to some obscure corner of Asia Minor and live unmolested. That is what the sources imply. According to Appian, he fortified a base in Cappadocia, “where many joined him while the Macedonians were preoccupied elsewhere.”19 Billows suggests this statement refers to the chaos in the Macedonian dominions following Ipsus in 301, which enabled Mithridates to establish his kingdom.20 Although perfectly comprehensible in this context, it makes equal sense against the background of the Third Diadoch War – or indeed at any time between 321 and 301! The intense compression that is evident in Appian’s account allows one to entertain the possibility that Mithridates spent many years in relative outlawry, consolidating the basis for his future kingdom.21 Although Antigonus nominally controlled the regions of Paphlagonia and Cappadocia where Mithridates took refuge until the campaign of Ipsus, he is not attested to have interfered there after the Third Diadoch war.22 Was this a “blind eye” policy fostered by Demetrius on account of his fondness for the Persian? If so, Mithridates could easily have remained unmolested by the Antigonids for many years. The Mithridates incident also supplies another avenue for historical speculation, this time regarding Demetrius’ sex life. Plutarch asserts that Demetrius was extraordinarily distressed (ἠχθέσθη σφόδρα) by the intimation of Mithridates’ demise, so much so that he stepped outside the prescriptions of his family ethos. This in itself testifies to the intensity of his distress, as in general he is recorded to have been on most affectionate terms with his father, whose word he regarded as law.23 He was App. Mithr. 9.28, trans. McGing: φραξάμενός τι χωρίον τῆς Καππαδοκίας, πολλῶν οἱ προσιόντων ἐν τῇδε τῇ Μακεδόνων ἀσχολίᾳ. 20 Billows 1990, 405; Roller 2020, 33. 21 This is corroborated by Strabo 12.3.41 C562, who gives a location: Cimiata, a fortress in the Olgassys mountains of Paphlagonia (Barrington Atlas, map 86, D3); see Marek 1993, 122–42; Kobes 1996, 118–19, 168–71; Bosworth and Wheatley 1998, 163–64; Roller 2020, 32–34. 22 Billows 1990, 238–39. Diodorus (19.60.2–3; cf. 57.4) recounts Polemaeus’ campaign in north and west Asia Minor in early 315. A year later, with the war concentrated in Caria, the Aegean and Europe, Paphlagonia may have seemed a safe haven to Mithridates, particularly if it was adjacent to some of his ancestral estates. The stratagem recounted by Polyaenus (7.29.2), in which a certain Mithridates uses a ruse to escape from a city where he is hiding in Paphlagonia, may also pertain to this period. If it is indeed the same Mithridates, and not an incident from the life of a later dynast, the anecdote may well come from the immediate aftermath of his flight. 23 Diod. 20.111.2: “since he regarded obedience to his father’s orders as obligatory”; cf. 20.46.6. 19

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part of an exceptionally close-knit family.24 That Demetrius should break ranks with his father – even by such indirect means – indicates that there was possibly more to the relationship than meets the eye. If, despite Plutarch’s avowal of his youthfulness, Mithridates was some 14 years Demetrius’ senior, they were certainly not coevals, and the situation bears the hallmark of a late stage classic erastes – eromenos homoerotic relationship, or an intergenerational homoerotic relationship between an adult and an adolescent.25 Typically, the erastes might be aged 20–30, and the eromenos 12–18; in the case of Mithridates and Demetrius, by 314 they would be nearly 36 and 22 years old respectively, and the affair may have been considered inappropriate. The potential threat posed by the Persian courtier was supposedly revealed to Antigonus in a dream, and this may well be a red herring inserted by a later authority to herald the aggregation of Mithradatid power. But perhaps the old general also had other reasons for wanting Mithridates out of the way. For instance, one may hypothesise that his antipathy for the Persian stemmed more from disapproval or resentment at the intimacy of the latter’s relationship with his promising eldest son, than from a tenuous “prophetic” dream. Is it possible that Antigonus had become worried about an inverse power relationship becoming entrenched in his family dynamic? The spectre of a nobleman from the conquered race not only penetrating his beloved son, but continuing with the behavior some years after such exploits should have been put aside in the prevailing sexual culture may have become too much for the formidable and conservative old general. On top of the power dynamic, the relationship may have been viewed as sullying the reputation of his dynasty, given that Demetrius was married to the remarkable Phila, and already had a four-year-old son, Antigonus Gonatas, and an infant daughter, Stratonice.26 But Demetrius’ intense, perhaps obsessive personality may have led to – in his father’s view – an unhealthy predilection with his Persian companion. It could be argued that two such charismatic characters conducting a high-profile and questionable relationship in the camp while the army and navy were blockading Tyre for 15 months in 315–14 would constitute an unwelcome, and damaging, distraction that Antigonus eventually found intolerable.27 The situation See, for instance, Plut. Demetr. 3; 6.1; 6.5; 19.1; 19.9–10; 29.7–8; 51.1–2; 53.5–7; Synk. 5.1. Antigonus was a very straight family man devoted to his wife and watchful over his sons’ morals (see above, n. 13), although he eventually grew tolerant of Demetrius’ own antics after he reached adulthood (Demetr. 19.9–10). Perhaps the Mithridates incident cured Antigonus of meddling in his son’s private life. He may also have resented Mithridates because of his race, despite the ancient consensus that the Greeks introduced pederasty to the Persians (Hdt. 1.135; Xen. Cyr. 2.2.28), rather than vice versa. 25 As Verstraete and Provencal (2005, 3) term it. On this subject in general, see for instance, Dover 1978, 16 and ch. 2; Africa 1982; Skinner 2010. For development and adjustment of the Dover model, see now Percy 2005. 26 On the birthdates of Demetrius’ children by Phila, see Wheatley and Dunn 2020, 32–34, 49–50. 27 For Antigonus’ protracted 15-month siege of Tyre see Diod. 19.61.5; with Billows 1990, 111–16; Anson 2014, 131–34, though both offer flawed chronology. Tyre fell in the late summer of 314; cf. Meeus 2012, 83–85, 92. 24

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was no doubt exacerbated by the flurry of diplomatic activity among the Diadochs during this time. The Antigonid camp had become a hub from which Antigonus sent emissaries throughout the Greek world to establish his claim to preeminence over Alexander’s former domains, and destabilise his rivals, especially Cassander.28 He also summoned the minor Phoenician kings and Syrian hyparchs to his camp, ordering them to provide logistic support for his shipbuilding program and military preparations, and at a public Macedonian army assembly he proposed a dogma (decree) establishing the “Freedom of the Greeks,” and declaring himself the regent for the monarchy. This Antigonid propaganda drive was extraordinarily popular, so much so that Ptolemy was forced to emulate it shortly afterwards, and it may be reasonable to hypothesise that Demetrius’ rather public relationship with a Persian sat uneasily with Antigonus’ strategy to establish his legitimacy, and may even have been an embarrassment.29 In the context of “affective relations and personal bonds,” the theme of the present collection, it should also be remembered that Demetrius’ wife, Phila, was the sister of the Antigonid arch-enemy, Cassander, and rumour of Demetrius’ inappropriate antics may have been counterproductive to the Antigonid cause. Notably, it is evident from the story of the “Royal Toast” that, when he was older, Demetrius’ personal life was a regular subject of ridicule among the other Diadochoi.30 One final observation may be proffered in support of the notion that Demetrius and Mithridates’ relationship transcended the Platonic. In 286, on his final ill-fated military expedition into Asia Minor, Demetrius was pursued by Lysimachus’ efficient son, Agathocles, up to the borders of the kingdom of Pontus. A serious mistake while crossing a certain river Lycus cost him a large number of men, who were carried away by the current.31 If this river can be identified as the Pontic Lycus,32 then the possibility arises that the hard-pressed Demetrius was hoping to reach Pontus, and find refuge with his former lover. Perhaps he hoped Mithridates would save his life Diod. 19.57.3–59.2; 19.60–2; Just. 15.1.3. He sent his lieutenants Agesilaus to Cyprus, Idomeneus and Moschion to Rhodes, his nephew Polemaeus to Cappadocia, Bithynia and the Hellespont. Aristodemus was sent to the Peloponnese to establish an alliance with Polyperchon, and the latter’s son, Alexander, visited Antigonus at Old Tyre (Diod. 19.61). 29 On these events and the significance of the political catchphrase “Freedom of the Greeks” to the Successors, see Dmitriev 2011, 112–34; Yardley, Wheatley and Heckel 2011, 222–24; Anson 2014, 134–35. 30 For the “Royal Toast” story, see Plut. Demetr. 25.7–8; Mor. 823c-d; Phylarchus BNJ 81 F 31 ap. Athen. 6.261b; with Hauben 1974; Mastrocinque 1979, 264; Bosworth 2002, 272–73. Whether such anecdotes can be regarded as historically reliable or placed in an accurate context is, of course, debatable. 31 Plut. Demetr. 46.9; cf. Polyaen. 4.7.12; with Rose 2015, 338–40; Wheatley and Dunn 2020, 415–16 (but note Polyaenus is mis-cited as Pausanias on p. 415). 32 Barrington Atlas, map 87, C4: modern Kelkit Çay; cf. Strabo 12.3.30 C556. However, other homonymous rivers in Mariandynia (Barrington Atlas, map 86, B2: modern Gülünç Su), Lydia (Barrington Atlas, map 56, F4: modern Gördük Çay), or Phrygia (Barrington Atlas, map 65, B2: modern Cürük Su), are also possible candidates, and Demetrius may have crossed more than one river Lycus during this time; see Rose 2015, 338. 28

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just as he had saved the Persian’s some 30 years earlier. Further speculation is undesirable, and anyway, Mithridates had long ago thrown his hand in with Lysimachus.33 But nothing precludes the link between the two men being lifelong, and it is likely that the Pontic dynasty celebrated its dual roots in both the Persian and Hellenistic cultures as part of its foundation narrative and propaganda.34 The evidence for the relationship between Mithridates and Demetrius is frustratingly circumstantial, as the sources are bent on using the anecdote to illustrate their own points. Plutarch is setting up his thematic study of the degeneration of Demetrius’ character; Appian chronicling the genesis of the Mithridatid dynasty; Tertullian exemplifying the value of prophetic dreams. But the question must certainly be asked: was Mithridates Hephaestion to Demetrius’ Alexander, or Patroclus to Demetrius’ Achilles?35 Homoerotic relationships in Macedonian male court culture were certainly the norm, and probably contributed to the unstable succession pattern of the monarchy, as Professor Carney herself has proved.36 Indeed, it would be surprising if Demetrius, famous for his beauty and charisma, did not at some stage become someone’s eromenos. Plutarch certainly records his desire a decade later to become the erastes of Democles the Beautiful, and the tragic consequences: Democles scalded himself to death in a cauldron of boiling water to escape the Besieger’s attentions.37 The only candidate for such a role with Demetrius who has not disappeared from the admittedly sparse historical record of such matters is his close friend, Mithridates Ctistes.

Bibliography

Adams, W.L. (1974) Cassander, Macedonia, and the Policy of Coalition, 323–301 BC. Unpublished thesis. University of Virginia. Africa, T.W. (1982) Homosexuals in Greek history. The Journal of Psychohistory 9, 401–20. Beloch 1927, iv2.235; Bosworth and Wheatley 1998, 164; Rose 2015, 340; Roller 2020, 34–35; Wheatley and Dunn 2020, 416–17. 34 As convincingly established by D’Agostini 2016, 92–93. 35 On the famous relationship between Hephaestion and Alexander (Curt. 3.12.16; Arr. Anab. 2.12.7–8; Plut. Alex. 47.10; Diod. 17.37.5–6; Just. 12.12.11), with its heroic paradigm of Patroclus and Achilles (a trope that has now been brilliantly debunked by Müller 2018), see Hamilton 1969, 130; Lane Fox 1973, 56–57, 113; Africa 1982a, 410–14; O’Brien 1992, 56–59; Reames-Zimmerman 1999; Ogden 2011, 155–67; Müller 2011; 2012; Heckel 2016, 75–79. Demetrius was a fervent emulator of Alexander in every respect: Plut. Demetr. 41.5; with Monaco 2017. 36 Carney 1983, 272, who concludes: “‘institutionalized’ pederasty of the Macedonian court may have had something to do with ‘institutionalized’ regicide”; see further Africa 1982a, 409–10; also Mortensen 2007. The best known example is the assassination of Philip II by his rejected eromenos, Pausanias (Diod. 16.93–4; Plut. Alex. 10.6; Just. 9.6.4–7; Arist. Pol. 5.1311b). 37 Plut. Demetr. 24.2–5; Synk. 4.5: a dubious and singular anecdote, describing suicide in the face of impending rape, and perhaps originating from the hostile Demochares of Leuconoe. For discussion of this incident, its consequences, and veracity, see Rose 2015, 228–30; Wheatley and Dunn 2020, 209–10. 33

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Anson, E.M. (2014) Alexander’s Heirs. The Age of the Successors. Malden, MA Wiley-Blackwell. Beloch, K.J. (1925–7) Griechische Geschichte. Vol. 42. Berlin andLeipzig de Gruyter. Billows, R.A. (1990) Antigonus the One-Eyed and the Creation of the Hellenistic State. Berkeley University of California Press. Billows, R.A. (1995) Kings and Colonists: Aspects of Macedonian Imperialism. Leiden,Brill. Bosworth, A.B. (2002) The Legacy of Alexander. Politics, Warfare, and Propaganda under the Successors. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Bosworth, A.B. and Wheatley, P.V. (1998) The origins of the Pontic house. Journal of Hellenic Studies 118, 155–64. Brenk, F.E. (1975) The dreams of Plutarch’s Lives. Latomus 34, 336–49. Carney, E.D. (1983) Regicide in Macedonia, Parola del Passato 38, 260–72; reprinted in E.D. Carney (2018) King and Court in Ancient Macedonia: Rivalry, Treason and Conspiracy, 155–65. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. D’Agostini, M. (2016) The multicultural ties of the Mithridatids: sources, tradition and promotional image of the dynasty of Pontus in 4th-3rd centuries BC. Aevum 90, 83–96. Dmitriev, S. (2011) The Greek Slogan of Freedom and Early Roman Politics in Greece. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Dover, Sir K. (1978; rev. 1989) Greek Homosexuality. London, Duckworth; Harvard, Harvard University Press. Downey, G. (1959) Libanius’ oration in praise of Antioch (Oration XI). Proceeedings of the American Philosophical Society 103, 652–86. Durvye, C. (2018) Diodore de Sicile. Bibliothèque historique. Tome XV: Livre XX. Paris, Budé ed., Les Belles Lettres. Grainger, J.D. (1990) Seleukos Nikator: Constructing a Hellenistic Kingdom. London, Routledge. Hadley, R.A. (1969) Hieronymus of Cardia and early Seleucid mythology. Historia 18, 142–52. Hamilton, J.R. (1969; 2nd ed. 1999) Plutarch, Alexander: A Commentary. Oxford, Oxford University Press; London, Bristol Classical Press. Hauben, H. (1974) A royal toast in 302 BC. Ancient Society 5, 105–17. Heckel, W. (1992; 2nd ed. 2016) The Marshals of Alexander’s Empire. London and New York, Routledge. Heckel, W. (2006) Who’s Who in the Age of Alexander the Great. Malden, MA, Blackwell Publishing. Hornblower, J. (1981) Hieronymus of Cardia. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Jacobs, S.G. (2018) Plutarch’s Pragmatic Biographies. Lessons for Statesmen and Generals in the Parallel Lives. Leiden, Brill. Jacoby, F. (ed.) (1923–) Die Fragmente der griechischen Historiker. Berlin and Leiden, Weidmann and E.J. Brill. Kobes, J. (1996) „Kleine Könige“ Untersuchungen zu den Lokaldynasten im hellenistischen Kleinasien (323–188 v.Chr.). Pharos 8. St Katherinen, Scripta Mercaturae Verlag. Lane Fox, R. (1973) Alexander the Great. London, Allen Lane. Mansfeld, J. (1979) The chronology of Anaxagoras’ Athenian period and date of his trial (I). Mnemosyne 32, 39–69. Mansfeld, J. (1980) The chronology of Anaxagoras’ Athenian period and date of his trial (II). Mnemosyne 33, 17–95. Marek, C. (1993) Stadt, Ära und Territorium in Pontus-Bithynien und Nord-Galatia. Istanbuler Forschungen 39. Tübingen, E. Wasmuth. Mastrocinque, A. (1979) Demetrios tragodoumenos (Propaganda e letteratura al tempo di Demetrio Poliorcete). Athenaeum 57, 260–76. McGing, B.C. (1986a) The Foreign Policy of Mithridates VI Eupator, King of Pontus. Leiden, Brill. McGing, B.C. (1986b) The kings of Pontus: some problems of identity and date. Rheinisches Museum 29, 248–59.

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Meeus, A. (2012) Diodorus and the chronology of the Third Diadoch War. Phoenix 66, 74–96. Meyer, E. (1879) Geschichte des Königsreichs Pontos. Unpublished thesis, Leipzig. Monaco Caterine, M. (2017) Alexander-imitators in the age of Trajan: Plutarch’s Demetrius and Pyrrhus. Classical Journal 112, 406–30. Mortensen, K. (2007) Homosexuality at the Macedonian court and the death of Philip II. Ancient Macedonia 7, 371–87. Müller, S. (2011) In Abhängigkeit von Alexander. Hephaistion bei den Alexanderhistoriographen. Gymnasium 118, 429–56. Müller, S. (2012) Ptolemaios und die Erinnerung an Hephaistion. Anabasis 3, 75–91. Müller, S. (2018) Hephaistion – a re-assessment of his career. In T. Howe and F. Pownall (eds) Ancient Macedonians in the Greek and Roman Sources: From History to Historiography, 77–102. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. O’Brien, J.M. (1992) Alexander the Great: The Invisible Enemy. London and New York, Routledge. Ogden, D. (2011) Alexander the Great. Myth, Genesis and Sexuality. Exeter, Exeter University Press. Ogden, D. (2017) The Legend of Seleucus. Kingship, Narrative and Mythmaking in the Ancient World. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Percy III, W.A. (2005) Reconsiderations about Greek homosexualities. Journal of Homosexuality 49, 13–61. Primo, A. (2008) Seleuco e Mitridate Ktistes in un episodio del giovane Demetrio Poliorcete. In B. Virgilio (ed.) Studi ellenistici 20, 409–26. Pisa and Rome, F. Serra. Primo, A. (2009) La storiografia sui Seleucidi. Da Megastene a Eusebio di Cesaria. Studi ellenistici 10. Pisa and Rome Fabrizio Serra. Reames-Zimmerman, J. (1999) An atypical affair: Alexander the Great, Hephaistion Amyntoros and the nature of their relationship. Ancient History Bulletin 13, 81–96. Reinach, T. (1890) Mithridate Eupator: roi du Pont. Paris,Firmin-Didot. Roller, D.W. (2020) Empire of the Black Sea. The Rise and Fall of the Mithridatic World. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Rose, T. (2015) A Historical Commentary on Plutarch’s Life of Demetrius. Unpublished thesis, University of Iowa. Skinner, M.B. (2010) Alexander and ancient Greek sexuality. Some theoretical considerations. In P. Cartledge and F.R. Greenland (eds) Responses to Oliver Stone’s Alexander: Film, History, and Cultural Studies, 119–34. Madison, WI, University of Wisconsin Press. Tazelaar, C.M. (1967) ΠΑΙΔΕΣ ΚΑΙ ΕΦΗΒΟΙ: some notes on the Spartan stages of youth. Mnemosyne 20, 127–53. Verstraete, B.C. and Provencal, V. (eds) (2005) Same-Sex Desire and Love in Greco-Roman Antiquity and in the Classical Tradition of the West. Binghamton, NY, Harrington Park Press = Journal of Homosexuality 49. Wheatley, P.V. (1995) Ptolemy Soter’s annexation of Syria, 320 BC. Classical Quarterly 45, 433–40. Wheatley, P.V. (2003) Lamia and the besieger: an Athenian hetaera and a Macedonian king. In O. Palagia and S.V. Tracy (eds) The Macedonians in Athens, 30–6. Oxford, Oxbow Books. Wheatley, P.V. and Dunn, C. (2020) Demetrius the Besieger. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Yardley, J.C., Wheatley, P.V. and Heckel, W. (2011) Justin. Epitome of the Philippic History of Pompeius Trogus. Vol. 2. Oxford, Oxford University Press.

Friendship beyond the Oikos

Chapter 14 The Father of the Army: Alexander and the Epigoni1

Edward M. Anson This study will demonstrate that Alexander was not interested in the fusion of races per se, but he was interested in getting his court and army now of Iranians and Macedonians more united in the interests of the administration of his empire and future military operations. The marriages at Susa and his creation of Iranian battalions mirroring Macedonian counterparts and even the incorporation of Iranians into certain Macedonian units were only part of his policy. It has long been a truism that Alexander’s army that conquered the Persian Empire was his father’s army. Alexander’s desire to have young men of many races brought into what was to be very much his army at an early age reflects something far different than cultural fusion and provides insights into the nature of what Alexander planned for his future and his future relationship with his army. In Alexander the Great’s reported comments on the Hyphasis after Coenus’ speech, he partially concludes with the following: “He would compel no Macedonian to go with him against his will; he would have volunteers as followers” (Arr. Anab. 5.28.2). At Opis in 324, Alexander discharged a sizable number of his Macedonian veterans. Many of these troops had been serving for a decade in Asia and, indeed, many, if not most, were his father’s veterans, and there was more involved than simply the discharge of exhausted veterans. Alexander increasingly had taken on the airs of an autocrat and had become more and more frustrated with his Macedonians and the Macedonian traditions of monarchy. While the process had begun well before, certainly after Alexander’s return from India, he had accelerated his incorporation of Asian units into his army. It is the contention of this paper that Alexander, after the 1

I feel very privileged to be part of a work honoring Beth Carney. She has been a colleague and friend for more than four decades as well as a truly outstanding scholar. Her achievements are worthy of every honor that can possibly come her way.

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“unpleasantness” both on the Hyphasis and at Opis, wanted to alter dramatically his relationship with his army to ensure that in the future his desires would be carried out without opposition.2 To guarantee this outcome he began to build what would be his army, not a national force, but one loyal to him personally. This was to be an army far less reliant on Macedonia. Alexander’s Pages, those young Macedonians usually the sons of Macedonian aristocrats, had especially proven to be disloyal.3 To accomplish his goal of a personal army he wanted to retain a core of Macedonian veterans, but where possible to replace these with those not imbued with the traditions of Macedonia, or indeed with any other national ones either. One way to ensure this loyalty was to begin the indoctrination of his new troops at an early age and primarily with those of Asian origins. The traditions of true autocracy were embedded in Asia, but not found in Alexander’s homeland. The Macedonian monarchy was by tradition informal and personal in nature. While the king was in theory an autocrat,4 there was a virtual lack of bureaucracy and true autocratic power. The king ruled through his hetairoi, his mostly aristocratic companions. These hetairoi were, apart from the king, the basic political institution of the Macedonian state.5 They were the government, acting as the king’s ambassadors, military commanders, governors, religious representatives and personal advisers. The more junior members of this class made up the elite Macedonian cavalry; the more senior their officers and the infantry commanders. Their relationship with the king was regarded by them as personal, not institutional. The hetairoi were formally tied to the monarch by religious and social bonds; they sacrificed to the gods, hunted and drank with, and fought beside, the king. While there are a number of difficulties with the oft-repeated statement that the Macedonian kingship was Homeric,6 there are clear parallels. The Myrmidons were the “hetairoi” of Achilles (Hom. Il.16.168–70, 269), and the Trojan Aeneas had his own “hetairoi” (Il. 13.489–92). The hero and his hetairoi, like their Macedonian counterparts, fought and shared their leisure activities, and the interaction of the Macedonian king and his companions could be as fractious as that of the Greek champions in the epic. It was not unusual for Macedonian kings

Diodorus (17.108.3) states that the incidents on the Hyphasis and at Opis were not isolated occurrences. 3 Arr. Anab. 4.13.3–4; Curt. 8.6. 8–10. Arrian lists by name six of the conspirators (Hermolaus, Sostratus, Antipater, Epimenes, Anticles and Philotas). This conspiracy shows that Alexander faced opposition to his more autocratic style not only from his veterans, but also from younger Macedonians who had not served under his father. These particular Pages likely joined the expedition not much earlier than 330. Pages were likely recruited at the age of 14 and remained as such until their 18th birthday (Hammond 1990, 266; Anson 2013, 58–59). 4 See Anson 1985; 1991. 5 Stagakis 1962, 53–67; 1970, 86–102. 6 For the many differences in the literary Homeric kingship and real Macedonian one, see Carlier 2000, 259–68. 2

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to lose their lives at the hands of their own disgruntled hetairoi.7 Traditionally, these landed aristocrats controlled entire regions and served the king as his companions, not necessarily as loyal subjects (Anson 2013, 24‒25). Much of the countryside was dominated by these hetairoi with their landed estates and dependents. The power of the hetairoi was not then traditionally at the discretion of the king. These individuals had political power in Macedonia apart from the monarch. By the time of Alexander’s invasion of Asia, this personal relationship had been expanded to include the common soldiers as well. Philip II, Alexander’s father, had transformed the Macedonian army, creating a dominant heavy infantry where only light-armed troops, mostly the dependents of the aristocrats, had existed before,8 but his greatest innovation was the extension of the personal relationship between king and aristocrats to a new rising middle class, the pezhetairoi, the infantry companions. They had been given land by the king freeing them from their dependence on their previous landlords and making them firm royal adherents. The king not only had given them land, but was also the guarantor of their continued possession of it. They were now counterpoises to the king’s other companions, the hetairoi. In Macedonia, there was a clear class separation between those who fought on foot and those who fought on horseback. This distinction was likely the result of the nature of the Macedonian infantry prior to Philip II. These troops were most often the ill-trained and lightly equipped retainers of these aristocrats, while the cavalry came from these aristocratic families (Curt. 10.7.20). To fight on foot, except in the most extreme of circumstances, was considered beneath these aristocrats. For killing a boar in the hunt before the king could take his opportunity, Alexander the Great punished the Page Hermolaus by having the young man whipped in the presence of the other Pages and additionally by having “his horse taken away” (Arr. Anab. 4.13.2). In Amyntas’ (son of Andromenes) defense against his involvement in a plot against the life of Alexander, he claimed that he retained his horses when ordered to give them up, because, if he had not, he would “have had to fight on foot” (Curt. 7.1.34). Many Macedonian monarchs lost their lives in palace intrigues involving hetairoi. Archelaus (Arist. Pol. 1311b 11–12), although it is also possible that his death was due to an accident (Diod. 14.37.6), Amyntas II (Arist. Pol. 1311b 4), Orestes, the son of Archelaus, (Diod. 14. 37. 6), but Eusebius does not have Orestes in his listing of “the Kings of the Macedonians”; Pausanias (Diod. 14.89.2), Alexander II (Diod. 15.71.1; Marsyas of Pella BNJ 135/6 F 11 = Athen. 14.629d) and Philip II were all killed in palace conspiracies (Anson 2013, 74–81). Alexander I may have lost his life through assassination, although it is equally likely that it was in battle (Curt. 6.11.26). 8 The originator of these reforms is debated, but the overwhelming evidence points to Philip (Anson 2009, 88‒98; Anson 2020, 87–91). Prior to Philip there was no true Macedonian infantry. Infantry consisted of light armed troops, mostly the personal retainers of the king’s hetairoi. In Philip’s “new model army” the cavalry would still be the primary strike force, but the infantry now could stand against any heavy infantry then in existence, allowing the cavalry to probe for weaknesses in enemy formations, which could then be exploited by the usually superior Macedonian cavalry (Anson 2013, 46‒47). 7

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While the pezhetairoi did not share governmental responsibilities9 with the king and his hetairoi, they did, however, now share other activities with the monarch, including religious celebrations and sacrifices.10 Most importantly they often fought alongside their king. While Alexander seldom directly led the infantry into battle, his father Philip is most often found in direct command of his infantry forces.11 Macedonian kings literally led their forces into battle, thus sharing the risks with elite and common soldiers alike. Alexander himself had been wounded six times and had his leg broken in battle.12 The creation of the pezhetairoi greatly strengthened the power of the king in his dealings with his hetairoi. As Alexander proceeded deeper into Asia, the authority of the hetairoi who had accompanied him diminished further (cf. Arr. Anab. 4.8.2‒3; Plut. Alex. 23.4). Their authority was based in Macedonia with their landed estates and dependents. In Asia, they served the king. Another change had begun during Alexander’s father’s administration. The hetairoi class had long included a minority of non-Macedonians. In the reign of Alexander the Great, roughly 10 per cent of his hetairoi were originally from Greek poleis.13 Eumenes of Cardia had become both royal secretary and hetairos of both Philip II and his son Alexander (Anson 2013, 49). Increasingly in the reigns of this father and son many hetairoi were court figures with little to no military responsibilities.14 The changing relationship due to rising royal domination is clear in our sources, and is exemplified by an anecdote in Plutarch where Alexander is reported to have told his closest companion Hephaestion, “that without Alexander he was nothing” (Plut. Alex. 47.6).

It has been claimed that there existed a constitutional army assembly, which elected the monarch and decided important judicial cases, but the evidence suggests otherwise (see Anson 1985; 2008; 2013, 26‒42). If for no other reason, who prior to Philip would have peopled such an assembly? Before Philip there was hardly a middle class and Macedonian urbanization had not proceeded to any great extent. As a result, any assembly would either have been an aristocratic council or an assemblage of these same aristocrats’ retainers. 10 Unfortunately, the examples date from the reign of Alexander the Great: Arr. Anab. 1.18.2; 2.5.8, 12.1; 3.5.2, 16. 9; 5.20.1, 24.6; 6.28.3; Diod. 17.16.4, 66.1; Curt. 3.7.2; 4.8.2; 5.2.11; 8.6.28‒8.20; 9.1.1–3; 10.23–27. 11 For example, he led the right wing of his infantry at the Battle of the Erigon River Valley (Diod. 16.4.5) and at Chaeronea (Diod. 16.86.1; Polyaen. 4.2.2). 12 In his 10-year expedition he received wounds to his head on the Granicus (Arr. Anab. 1.15.7–8; Diod. 17.20.6; Plut. Mor. 327a), thigh at Issus (Arr. Anab. 2.12.1; Curt. 3.12.; Plut. Mor. 327a), shoulder and leg at Gaza (Arr. Anab. 2. 27.2; Curt. 4.6.17, 23; Plut. Mor. 327a). He suffered a broken leg near Samarkand (Curt. 7.6.1‒9; Arr. Anab. 3.30.10‒11; Plut. Mor. 327a). He was struck on the head and neck in Bactria (Arr. Anab. 4.3.3; Curt. 7.6.22), and had his lung pierced by an arrow in India (Arr. Anab. 6.10.1; Curt. 9.5.9‒10). He also contracted malaria in Cilicia and again in Babylon on his return from India (Engels 1978, 224–28; Borza 1987, 36–38). 13 See Stagakis 1962, 79–87. 14 For example, Medius of Larissa (Heckel 2006, 158) and Hagnon from Teos (Athen. 12.539c; Plut. Alex. 40.1; Ael. VH 9.3). 9

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Moreover, Alexander’s court was soon peopled by the elite from among the conquered (cf. Arr. 4.10.5–6; Curt. 8.5.9).15 For example, the Persian brother of the dead king Darius, Oxyathres (Plut. Alex. 43.3; Curt. 6.2.11),16 was a hetairos,17 and many of his fathers’ companions were being replaced by those of Alexander’s generation and outlook. It is clear that these companions were more in the tradition of the Persian court than that of Macedonia. The supremacy of the monarch was never in question with these new “hetairoi.” In the Persian system the highest ranked court officials were the king’s personal servants. These included the king’s cup-bearer, parasol carrier, stool-bearer, etc. At a second level were the administrators and military officers of the empire.18 This dichotomy is clear in the incident involving Alexander’s attempt to introduce prostration into his court ceremony.19 The Persians readily acceded to the process as the act of prostration was a traditional practice that exemplified the relationship between the Persian king and all others.20 The Macedonians resisted and the attempt to implement the practice was abandoned. For Macedonians, prostration was not emblematic of a relationship based on the king being the first among near equals as in theory was the Macedonian king and his more prominent hetairoi, nor did it reflect that between the leader and a free people, as in theory was the relationship between the king and the Macedonian populace as a whole (Anson 2013, 111). This freedom was clearly shown in the ability of even common Macedonians to address their king directly with their concerns.21 As long as Alexander depended on his Macedonian veterans and commanders, he had to be circumspect in his introduction of more autocratic practices that violated the traditions of Macedonian monarchy. Greek hetairoi from time to time had been added to these ranks by various Macedonian kings. They mostly served the interests of the monarchy. Their possession of land in Macedonia came as a gift from the king, who at any time theoretically could revoke that position (Anson 2015a, 49). Of the 84 individuals identified as hetairoi by G.S. Stagakis (1962, 79‒87) nine were of Greek ancestry. The most famous of these Greek hetairoi was Eumenes of Cardia (Anson 2015a). 16 This Persian also became a member of a new elite group of bodyguards, paralleling the Macedonian aristocratic, bodyguards (somaphylakes) (Diod. 17.77.4; Curt. 7.5.40). See Heckel 2006, 324. Curtius (7.10.9) suggests the existence of such a unit. 17 Also listed as Asian court or cavalry hetairoi were Artiboles (Arr. Anab. 7.6.4), Autobares (Arr. Anab. 7.6.5), Histanes (Arr. Anab. 7.6.5), Hydarnes (Arr. Anab. 7.6.4), Hystaspes (Arr. Anab. 7.6.5), Cophen (Arr. Anab. 7.6.4), Mithrobaius (Arr. Anab. 7.6.5), Sistenes (Arr. Anab. 7.6.4). 18 On the nature of the Achaemenid court, see Brosius 2007, 26‒31. 19 Arr. Anab. 4.9.9, 10.5‒12.6; Curt. 8.5.5‒24; Plut. Alex. 54.2‒6; Just. 12.7.1‒3; 15.3.3. While the incident would appear to be a certainty, being recorded in four of our Roman sources, Hugh Bowden (2013, 55‒77) doubts that this episode is historical. In fact, he proclaims: “The objections to the adoption by Alexander of ‘barbarian’ practices reflects Roman prejudices, rather than any concern of Alexander’s contemporaries.” While aspects of the proskynesis episode certainly can be challenged, it is clear that the Macedonians were not pleased with the Persianization of the court. Hermolaus (Arr. Anab. 4.14.2; Curt. 8.7.12‒13; Plut. Alex. 55) in his complaints about Alexander’s conduct mentions both Median dress and the attempted obeisance. One of the complaints uttered at Opis by the Macedonians was Alexander’s Persian dress (Arr. Anab. 7.8.1). 20 See Briant 2002, 222‒23. 21 See Adams 1986, 47. 15

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While the power of the hetairoi vis-à-vis the king diminished as the campaign progressed deeper into Asia, the importance of the infantry companions was amplified. But, these latter companions also began to change. While they were still loyal to their king, they were also becoming increasingly vocal in their wishes. This was a combination of the traditions of Macedonian free speech and the king as their leader and companion, not an autocratic ruler.22 As noted, Alexander, as was the royal Macedonian custom, was always in the forefront of the fighting and risking his life along with those of his troops. These qualities secured from his troops both admiration and obedience. However, Alexander’s rapprochement with the Persians angered his Macedonians both aristocratic and common. Certainly by the time he had subdued the Persian heartland he was attempting to transform his government from what it had been traditionally to one more reflective of his new Asian domains, more bureaucratic and with a ruler with true autocratic power. Moreover, many, if not most Macedonian rank-and-file, had been continuously on campaign since they left Macedonia. Even though Demosthenes (3.23) states that Philip’s army was always in the field, the truth is otherwise. Those troops not specifically needed for a particular campaign were able to return home. Home during Alexander’s expedition was the camp. Moreover, increasingly after Gaugamela and the subsequent death of Darius, these troops began to exhibit certain characteristics of mercenaries.23 In most respects the war of revenge proclaimed at the meeting in Corinth was over. The character of the expedition had changed. It was no longer a war to avenge Persian wrongs, but rather one of simple conquest. The Macedonian rank-andfile increasingly acted as a single body and with much less interest in proclaimed national objectives but far more in their own self-interest. Prior to 330, Alexander addressed his troops to encourage them before battle (Diod. 17. 33.1, 46.1), and to honor the dead after combat (Arr. Anab. 2.12.1; 5.24.6). The troops were also often associated with specific sacrifices and religious processions. However, in 330, in the city of Hecatompylus, his troops reacting to rumors that the expedition was over and their commander had decided to return to Macedonia, began enthusiastically to pack up their belongings for the return (Curt. 6.2.15‒19). Alexander had to resort to convincing his soldiers of the need to continue the campaign (Curt. 6.3; Diod. 17.74.3; Plut. Alex. 47.1‒2; Just. 12.3.2‒4). Alexander claimed that, while victorious in battle, the land was not fully subjugated (Curt. 6.3.6‒15).24 As the campaign progressed, Alexander found it necessary to employ what Errington refers to as checking his auctoritas before exercising his potestas (Errington 1978, 87‒90). No longer could he depend on his orders simply being obeyed because he issued them. Adams 1986, 43–52; Anson 2013, 25‒26. In general on mercenary soldiers, their attitudes and conditions of service, see Parke 1933, esp. 207‒208; Trundle 2008; for the transformation of Alexander’s soldiers, see Anson 1991, 230‒47; 2013, 32‒33. 24 Here, Alexander also spoke of his own desire to return home (Curt. 6.3.5). This was likely not heartfelt, but the need to secure their conquests in Asia was genuine. 22 23

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The change in the relationship between king and army is seen in other areas as well. The army collectively chastised their king for risking his life while hunting a lion in Bazaira (Curt. 8.1.18); after Alexander’s murder of Cleitus, an hetairos and satrap, the army on its own assembled and proclaimed that Cleitus had been justly killed (Curt. 8.2.12). Here, the army also wished to deny Cleitus a proper burial, but Alexander intervened. After 330, Alexander also began to employ the Macedonians collectively as a panel to hear charges of treason involving important individuals.25 Prior to the reign of Alexander the Great there is virtually no evidence for judicial assemblies. The only indication for a trial prior to Alexander’s departure for Asia relates to the aftermath of the death of Philip II and is very questionable.26 The evidence suggests that these later judicial assemblies were just other examples of what Errington described as Alexander testing his authority. By associating others in what otherwise might be seen as unwarranted assassinations by a brutal tyrant Alexander deflected his involvement,27 but the authority of the king to administer justice or simply to commit murder was never compromised.28 This strategy of ostensibly involving the troops in the decision-making process was at first effective. As late as on the Hydaspes in 326, Alexander again sensing a decline in his troops’ enthusiasm for his continuing campaign spoke to his assembled Macedonians to encourage their participation in the further penetration of the subcontinent. He proclaimed that the war was not yet over, but the most dangerous part had been accomplished (Curt. 9.1.1). Here, however, he added the promise of “rich booty” and once again the troops responded positively (Curt. 9.1.2‒3). The inclusion of the financial incentive demonstrates the increasing mercenary qualities of this long serving army.29 Finally, on the Hyphasis, Alexander attempted again to sway his Council and soldiers to move further into India using Alexander’s prosecution of Philotas (Arr. Anab. 3.26.1‒3; Curt. 6.8.23‒11.9, 34‒38; Diod. 17.80.1), Amyntas (Arr. Anab. 3.27.1‒3; Curt. 7.1.1–2.8; Diod. 17.80.2), Pages (Arr. Anab. 4.14.2, Curt. 8.6. 8‒30). 26 Badian 1979, 97; Anson 2013, 34. 27 See Anson 2008, 135–49. 28 Parmenio, long Alexander’s second-in-command, was not given any opportunity to defend himself (Arr. Anab. 3.26.3–4), but was murdered on Alexander’s orders. During the first year of Alexander’s reign, the Macedonian nobleman Attalus was murdered without the benefit of trial (Diod. 17.2.5–6; Curt. 7.1.3), as were Amyntas Perdicca (Curt. 6.9.17, 10.24; Just. 12.6.4) and the brothers of the Lyncestian Alexander (Arr. Anab. 1.25.1–2; Just. 11.2.1–2; cf. Curt. 7.1.6). All of these were accused by Alexander of plotting his death (Curt. 6.9.17; 8.8.7). In the winter of 325/4, Cleander, Heracon and Agathon, all Macedonian commanders, in addition to 600 regular soldiers, were condemned on Alexander’s authority alone (Curt. 10.1.1–9; cf. Arr. Anab. 6.27.4), as was one of his hetairoi Menander (Plut. Alex. 57.3). The king acquitted Heracon of the first set of charges against him, but with the appearance of subsequent claims of misconduct, he was executed on Alexander’s orders (Arr. Anab. 6.27.5). 29 At Opis, Alexander again offered payment as incentive (Arr. Anab. 7.8.1; Just 12.11.1); in Susa (Plut. Alex. 71.6‒9). 25

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many of his previous arguments, but here both groups failed to respond positively and Alexander was forced to change his plans.30 On the Hyphasis, his Council’s and the troops’ reluctance to continue deeper into India convinced Alexander not to order them to do so and he turned south, sailing and fighting his way down the Indus.31 There is considerable debate about the incident, was it a mutiny, or, since no order was actually given just in the words of Elizabeth Carney (1996, 33) an “unpleasantness”? Whatever it might be called Alexander’s will was thwarted. His relationship with his Macedonians increasingly was becoming strained (cf. Diod. 17.108.3). Likely on the Hyphasis, Alexander came to realize fully what had been suspected for some time that, if his ambitions for further conquest were to be realized, he would need a different army. The traditions of Macedonia ran counter to Alexander’s ambitions. When he had returned from India, Alexander began seriously to create this new army. At Opis in northern Babylonia, he called a meeting of his Macedonians to announce the discharge of many of his Macedonian veterans,32 an action seemingly long sought by the veterans themselves. Many of the soldiers, however, now interpreted this discharge as an insult; they believed that they were to be replaced by Asians,33 a conclusion not without merit. Earlier at Susa the army had witnessed the It has been recently claimed that what is described in our sources was really an elaborate ruse by Alexander, who had decided not to pursue his stated goal of marching to the eastern ocean and wished to avoid the embarrassment of failing to achieve his stated goal (Heckel 2004, 147‒74; Spann 1999, 62‒74). Howe and Müller (2012, 21‒38) suggest that the entire incident is a later Roman invention. The best argument against this claimed scenario by Spann and Heckel is that it was unnecessary. If Alexander did not wish to pursue a drive to the eastern ocean, he could have relied solely on unpromising sacrifices to demonstrate that the gods would not favor a further eastern advance, as in part, he actually, in the final analysis, did (Arr. Anab. 5.28 4; see Anson 2015b, 65‒74). There is disagreement in our sources whether Alexander on the Hyphasis addressed his Council or an assembly of troops. My assumption is that he addressed both. Arrian (Anab. 5.25‒28.3) has Alexander’s speech and that delivered by Coenus given before the former’s Council, but Curtius (9.2.12‒3.18) and Diodorus (17.94.5) have both taking place before the army. Certainly, after 330 assembly meetings became much more frequent. It is apparent that, while our sources do not always indicate such juxtapositionings, Alexander often addressed both with respect to the same issue (I wish to thank Fred Naiden for this insight and his listing of such situations). Such combinations occurred at Tyre (Diod. 17.45.2, 46.1, 80.1), in Drangiana (Arr. Anab. 3.26.2‒3; Curt. 6.8.1‒17) and in Bactra Curt. 8.6.28‒8.8.20; Arr. Anab. 4.14.2). Our sources were not that interested in listing every council or assembly meeting, likely omitting many and, recording such meetings only when they believed such information fit into their particular narratives. In the situation on the Hyphasis, our sources picked one or the other, but did not record both in their separate narratives. It is unclear whether Coenus spoke in opposition at both. If both, it may be the reason both meetings are not listed in our sources. Presenting Coenus’ speech in whichever context would be sufficient to dramatize the narrative. 31 Arr. Anab. 4.15.6; 5.26.1‒2; Curt. 9.2.2‒12; Just. 12.7.4; Plut. Alex. 62.2, 5. 32 Curt. 10.2.8, 19; Arr. Anab. 7.8.1; Diod. 17.109.1‒3; Just. 12.11.4‒8. 33 Arr. Anab. 7.8.2; Curt. 10.2.12; Plut. Alex. 71.3; Just. 12.11.6; Diod. 17.109. 2. 30

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arrival of the Epigoni (Arr. Anab. 7.6.1–2).34 Perhaps, as early as either 330,35 or as late as 327,36 Alexander had ordered his satraps and city commanders to recruit 30,000 Asian young men of roughly the same age to be taught Greek and trained in the techniques of Macedonian warfare (Curt. 8.5.1; Diod. 17.108.1‒3; Plut. Alex. 71.1). This unit was to remain separate from the Macedonian phalanx, and Diodorus (17.108.3) calls it an antitagma, an “anti-phalanx,” certainly suggesting that Alexander had more in mind than simply beefing up his numbers. In spite of Plutarch’s (Alex. 47.6) claim that their creation was to produce harmony between the two ethnic groups, Alexander wished to use this unit as a counterpoise to his increasingly unruly Macedonians. His father Philip had used the pezhetairoi in part as just such a counter to the hetairoi. Even more significant with these mostly Iranian recruits was their very name Epigoni, seriously implying that they were to be the new phalanx, replacing their Macedonian counterpart. Brian Bosworth describes this unit as “a corps of troops without roots in Europe or permanent home in Asia, the janissaries of the new Empire, whose loyalty would be to Alexander alone” (1980, 18). In addition to the arrival of the Epigoni, Bactrians, Sogdians, Archotians, Zaragians, Areians, Persians and Parthians had been and were being incorporated into the Companion cavalry (Arr. Anab. 7.6.3, 8.2). At Opis, unlike on the Hyphasis where silence was the reaction to Alexander’s proposal to march further east, the commander had to endure insults and calls for him to carry on alone with his father Ammon.37 To these insults Alexander reacted quickly, arresting 13 of the most vocal protesters, who without any sort of hearing were executed that same day.38 In the next two days Alexander began to create Iranian military units with traditional Macedonian names (Arr. Anab. 7.11.1‒3; Diod. 17.110.1). There would now be even a Persian Hypaspist guard (Arr. Anab. 7.11.3).39 These actions along with Nicholas Hammond has suggested that Alexander was recruiting and training regular corps of young men throughout his empire in the pattern of the Pages (1990, 276, 278, 286‒87; 1996, 101). These troops initially were for satrapal defense, but later would also be used to replace frontline troops (Hammond 1990, 285‒86). Hammond based this argument on a passage in the Suda (s.v. Βασίλειοι), which states, “Six thousand royal boys by order of Alexander the Macedonian were doing military drill in Egypt.” The passage in the Suda, however, is likely a confused version of Alexander’s creation of the Epigoni. Without the Suda passage there is no evidence for these empire-wide academies. 35 Hammond 1996, 101; cf. Plut. Alex. 47.1‒3. 36 Curt. 6.5.1; Bosworth 1988, 272. 37 Curt. 10.2.12‒4.3; Arr. Anab. 7.8.1‒11.9; Diod. 17.109. 2‒3; Just. 12.11.1‒12.12; Plut. Alex. 71.2‒9. On Alexander’s claims to be the son of Zeus/Ammon and his pretensions to be a living god, see Anson 2013, 83‒120. 38 Curt. 10.2.30; Arr. Anab. 7.8.3; Diod. 17.109.2‒3; Just. 12.11.8; according to Arrian the ringleaders were seized before Alexander spoke, but in Curtius, Diodorus and Justin, they are apprehended after his speech. Also in Arrian, Alexander points out those to be arrested, while Curtius, Diodorus and Justin have Alexander himself seizing the troublemakers. In either case these individuals were then summarily executed (Arr. Anab. 7.8.3; Curt. 10.3.4; Diod. 17.109.2; Just. 12.11.8). 39 Plut. Alex. 71.4‒6; Curt. 10.3.5‒14; Diod. 17.108.3. 34

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the general regard most of his troops felt for their king saved the situation.40 The insolence ended with the Macedonians begging forgiveness. However, even with the disturbance quelled, Alexander proceeded with his plans to demobilize many of these veterans.41 His decision to create his new army not in the least negated. Moreover, there is no record that the Iranian parallel units were disbanded. Subsequently, Alexander, in order to restore his relationship with his soldiers banqueted the entire army, paying special attention to his Macedonians who dined in an inner circle with their king (Arr. Anab. 7.11.8). Those who were initially to be dismissed and sent back to Macedonia were still sent. As Waldemar Heckel (2009, 81) has stated, at Opis in the end the opposition from his infantry crumbled and Alexander’s domination emerged stronger than ever. However, Alexander continued with his policies of incorporating Asian, and in particular Iranian, troops in his new army. He was determined on future campaigning and the need for a more dependable force. Macedonians in the future would make up only a minority of his forces, a veteran corps, essential until his new recruits had achieved a similar status. Alexander had already come to depend increasingly on Asian recruits as early as 330. For whatever reason, after 331, Alexander received no further reinforcements from Macedonia.42 Some of his need for manpower was filled by employing large numbers of Greek mercenaries, many of whom had formerly served Persian commanders.43 But, especially with respect to light cavalry the best available were Asian, and at least as early as 330 Alexander had begun to incorporate troops from his conquered lands into his grand army. In 330, he was joined by 300 Lydian cavalrymen (Curt. 6.6.35). The first Iranian units of significant size in Alexander’s army, including Bactrians and Sogdians, are explicitly reported in Central Asia in 328 (Arr. Anab. 4.17.3; 5.12.2). At Nysa he incorporated into his forces 300 mounted troops (Arr. Anab. 5.2.2). Alexander added Arachosian, Parapanisadan and likely Dahae archers, probably in 328.44 In Even though many factors contributed to the Opis confrontation (see Bosworth 1988, 160), Callines, an officer of the companion cavalry, afterwards told Alexander that the ill-feeling derived from the perception that Alexander no longer regarded the Macedonians as his kinsmen (Arr. Anab. 7.11.6‒7). 41 Bosworth (1986, 1‒12; 1988, 267) estimates that at Opis there were 18,000 Macedonian veterans of which Alexander eventually dismissed 10,000 of them (Arr. Anab. 7.12.1). Bosworth’s estimate of the number of Macedonian veterans present at Opis is generally regarded by scholars as on the high side. R.D. Milns (1976, 127) believes that the total before discharge at Opis was 13,000; both Griffith (1935, 141) and Hammond (1980, 245) estimate that at Alexander’s death the grand army contained around 10,000 Macedonians. 42 Arr. Anab. 5.11.3; Curt. 7.3.5; see Bosworth 1986; 1995, 279, who suggests that it was a shortage of manpower in Macedonia; Olbrycht 2011, 67‒84. 43 Arr. Anab. 3.23.9–4.1; Curt. 6.5.10; 9.3.21; Diod. 17.76.2, 95.4. 44 Although Peter Brunt (1976, lxxiv) and Marek Olybrcht (2011, 77) conclude that Alexander’s horse archers (Arr. Anab. 3.8.3; 4.23.1, 24.1, 28.8; 5.12.2, 16.4, 18.3) and the mounted javelin men (Arr. Anab. 3.24.1, 29.7; 4.4.7, 17.3, 23.1, 24.3, 25.6) were Asian, Brian Bosworth (1980, 352; 1995, 279) is likely correct that, while the mounted archers were Asian, the mounted javelin men were Macedonian. 40

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326/325, 1,000 horsemen and 500 war chariots from the Oxydracae joined Alexander’s increasingly complex army (Arr. Anab. 6.14.3).45 It was not only horsemen who were added. The first ethnic units of infantrymen were 2,600 Lydians summoned in 330 (Curt. 6.6.35) and 4,000 Lycians and Syrians in 329 (Curt.7.10.11). Alexander, however, wished to go beyond simply having the Asian troops as a counterpoise to his increasingly difficult Macedonians or as auxiliaries. He was looking to create a core in his army whose loyalty would be to him personally and only to him (as Bosworth 1980, 18). The core of this new force was to be Alexander’s Epigoni. Highly praised by Alexander for their skill in weaponry and drill, they were to provide the future core phalanx (Diod. 17.108.1‒3). It was also at Opis that Alexander began to reorganize the older, Macedonian phalanx, now commingling Macedonian phalangites with Iranians. The original phalanx was now reorganized with each “decad” containing four Macedonians and 12 Iranians (Arr. Anab. 7.23.3‒4; Diod. 17.110.2), the Macedonians armed with their traditional equipment and the 12 Persians armed as archers or javelin men with thonged javelins. Alexander’s new army was, however, not to be one of Iranian dominance or ascendancy (so Olybrycht 2016, 70). Even though for a time the dominant numbers were Iranian, Alexander’s purpose was to create an army without national identity. As Bosworth (1988, 273) states, “[the army] would become deracinated, the only constant being their employer, Alexander.” It is likely that many of the Macedonians sent home were among the most vocal.46 A question here arises regarding Alexander’s publically stated orders to Craterus to proceed to Macedonia with the discharged veterans, replace Antipater, and send that commander back to Babylon with new Macedonian recruits.47 Even though Alexander gave this order at Opis in 324, neither they nor their commander had journeyed further than Cilicia by the time of Alexander’s death in June of 323. Travel time to Cilicia would have taken at most three months (Engels 1978, 154‒55; Anson 1986, 214). Alexander would have known of the pause and our sources present no hint of his displeasure (Ashton 1993, 127‒28). While there are many possible reasons for the delay,48 what is significant is Alexander’s apparent lack of interest in the hold up. He While it is not stated whether the 1,000 were cavalry or infantry, it appears from a description of Porus’ army that war chariots were most often accompanied by horsemen (Curt. 8.14.2). 46 Alexander’s former infantry guard, the 3,000 hypaspists/argyraspids were also separated from the army and sent west (see Anson 1981, 17–20; 2014, 49). They may have been detached because of opposition to Alexander’s more autocratic practices or, perhaps, to secure the treasure in Cyinda in Cilicia. Of course, after Alexander’s death they traded on their former status as his guards, the elite force of his army (Anson 2015a, 88‒89, 164). 47 Arr. Anab. 7.12.1‒4; Just. 12.11.4‒12. 9; Diod. 17.109.1; 18.4.1, 12.1, 16.4; cf. Plut. Alex. 71.1‒5; Curt. 10.2.8. 48 See Anson 2012, 50‒51. It has been suggested that Craterus was afraid of Antipater (Badian 1961, 37), or became ill (Heckel 2006, 95, 99), or there was a need to secure the satrapy of Cilicia, which had recently lost its satrap (Diod. 18.22.1), or, perhaps, he was awaiting the departure of Antipater and the Macedonian replacements before proceeding (Griffith 1965, 12‒15), or with the growing 45

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was clearly more concerned to discharge his veterans than to receive their replacements. He was preparing an Arabian campaign and was content to use his current army here without awaiting the Macedonian reinforcements (Arr. Anab. 7.19.3‒22.5). While in Babylon he had received further Iranian reinforcements, 20,000 Persians, “a number of Cossaeans and Tapurians,” and additional troops from Caria and Lydia (Arr. Anab. 7. 23.1‒2).49 These forces were then distributed among the Macedonian taxeis” (Arr. Anab. 7.24.1). The army for the Arabian expedition was to be very clearly a mostly Asian force. The forces sent west with Craterus and whatever troops were to be sent from Macedonia were to be incidental to Alexander’s future military ambitions. With his new army anchored on the Epigoni, Alexander would proceed to the conquest of Arabia. It was also in Susa that Alexander established a future source of recruits that would be separated from his Macedonian homeland. These were the children of those marriages that Alexander had arranged at Susa or those who were simply of unrecognized liaisons (Arr. Anab. 7.4.8; Plut. Alex. 70).50 The marriages were assigned formally between Macedonian aristocrats and Persian women from distinguished noble families, but while less formal Alexander also had approximately 10,000 other relationships between foreign women and his Macedonian troops recognized (Arr. Anab. 7.4.4‒8). At Opis, when he sent so many of his veterans home he ordered that they leave their children born in the camp with him.51 The children of the latter numbered roughly 10,000 (Diod. 17.110.3).52 Alexander promised to educate them in Greek culture and arms (Arr. Anab. 7.12.1–2). Now none of these youths would be old enough to serve immediately. Alexander’s campaign was barely a decade old. They would be the future recruits to fill the ranks of the fallen. This was a further extension of Alexander’s plan to create an army not tied to the traditions of any specific ethnic group, but rather tied to the camp and to him personally. As Justin (12.4.6) comments, “They would be all the more steadfast for having spent not just their training but even their infancy right in the camp,” and Justin also refers to them as discontent in Greece he was preparing a fleet to meet any threat of a Greek revolt, or he was preparing for Alexander’s planned campaign in the West (Ashton 1993, 128‒29; Bosworth 1988, 208‒10; 2002, 31). This last would appear unlikely since the claim was that they were exhausted and wounded veterans (Arr. Anab. 7.8.1‒2). 49 While the ethnicity of these latter forces is not stated, they are unlikely to have been Macedonians (Arr. Anab. 7.24.1; cf. Brunt 1983, 488‒89). 50 The marriages likely were to serve multiple purposes including attempting to tie his Asian and Macedonian hetairoi more closely together, but likely also since common soldiers were included that his purpose all along was to dismiss many of his veterans, but to keep their children. He years earlier had initiated the creation of the Asian Epigoni. His plans for his future army were therefore not new at Opis. 51 Arr. Anab. 7.12.1‒2; Diod. 17.110.3; Just. 12.4.6; cf. Plut. Alex. 71.5. 52 There is no reference in our sources to any protest by these veterans over having to abandon their current “significant others” and their children. While this strikes me as unusual that one would readily agree to such abandonment, it may not be that uncommon when it comes to soldiers fighting in foreign lands (Lee 2011, 157‒81; McKelvey 1999).

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“Epigoni” (Just. 12.4.11).53 Over time with the camp as home more children of these soldiers would follow their fathers into the army. The new army would be in a sense Alexander’s children. He would become the chief of a tribe of warriors ever pursuing their commander’s dreams of conquest.54

Bibliography

Adams, W.L. (1986) Macedonian kingship and the right of petition. In Ancient Macedonia IV. Papers Read at the Fourth International Symposium Held in Thessaloniki, September 21–25, 1983, 43–52. Thessaloniki, Institute for Balkan Studies. Anson, E.M. (1981) Alexander’s Hypaspists and the Argyraspids. Historia 30, 117–20. Anson, E.M. (1985) The Hypaspists: Macedonia’s professional citizen-soldiers. Historia 34, 246–8. Anson, E.M. (1986) Diodorus and the date of Triparadeisus. American Journal of Philology 107, 208–17. Anson, E.M. (1991) The evolution of the Macedonian army assembly (330–315 BC). Historia 40, 230–47. Anson, E.M. (2008) Macedonian judicial assemblies. Classical Philology 103, 135–49. Anson, E.M. (2009) Philip II and the creation of the Macedonian Pezhetairoi. In P. Wheatley and R. Hannah (eds) Alexander in the Antipodes, 88–98. Claremont, CA, Regina Books. Anson, E.M. (2012) The Macedonian patriot: the Diadoch Craterus. Ancient History Bulletin 26, 49‒58. Anson, E.M. (2013). Alexander the Great: Themes and Issues. London, Bloomsbury. Anson, E.M. (2015a). Eumenes of Cardia: A Greek Among Macedonians. 2nd ed. Leiden and Boston, Brill. Anson, E.M. (2015b) Alexander at the Beas. In P. Wheatley and E. Baynham (eds) East and West in the World Empire of Alexander: Essays in Honour of Brian Bosworth, 65‒74. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Anson, E.M. (2020) Philip II, The Father of Alexander the Great: Themes and Issues. London, New York, Oxford, New Delhi and Sydney, Bloomsbury Academic. Ashton, N.G. (1993) Craterus from 324 to 321 BC. In Ancient Macedonia V: Papers read at the Fifth International Symposium held in Thessaloniki, October 10–15, 1989, 125–31. Thessaloniki, Institute for Balkan Studies. Badian, E. (1961) Harpalus. Journal of Hellenic Studies 81, 16–43. Badian, E. (1979) The burial of Philip II? American Journal of Ancient History 4, 97. Borza, E. (1987) Malaria in Alexander’s army. Ancient History Bulletin 1, 36‒38. Bosworth, A.B. (1980a) Alexander and the Iranians. Journal of Hellenic Studies 100, 1–21. Bosworth, A.B. (1986) Alexander the Great and the decline of Macedon. Journal of Hellenic Studies 106, 1–12. Bosworth, A.B. (1988) Conquest and Empire: The Reign of Alexander the Great. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Bosworth, A.B. (1995) A Historical Commentary on Arrian’s History of Alexander. Vol. 2. Commentary on Books IV–V. Oxford, Clarendon Press. Bowden, H. (2013) On kissing and making up: court protocol and historiography in Alexander the Great’s ‘experiment with proskynesis’. Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies 56, 55‒77. Briant, P. (2002) From Cyrus to Alexander: A History of the Persian Empire. Translated by P.T. Daniels. Winona Lake, IN, Eisenbruns. Hammond (1990, 276) believes that Justin is here confusing these youths with those officially called the Epigoni, but in the context it would appear that Justin is using the term in a general sense. 54 When his plans to conquer India were lost, he dreamed of conquests in Arabia and the West (Diod. 18.4.2‒4; see Anson 2013, 179; 2015, 68, 72‒74). 53

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Brosius, M. (2007) New out of old? Court and court ceremonies in Achaemenid Persia. In A.J.S. Spawforth (ed.) The Court and Court Society in Ancient Monarchies, 17‒57. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Brunt, P.A. (1976) Arrian. Anabasis of Alexander, Books I–IV. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press. Brunt, P.A. (1983) Arrian. Anabasis of Alexander, Books V–VII, Indica. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press. Carlier, P. (2000) Homeric and Macedonian Kingship. In R. Brock and S. Hodkinson (eds) Alternatives to Athens: Varieties of Political Organization and Community in Ancient Greece, 259–68. Oxford and New York, Oxford University Press. Carney, E.D. (1996) Macedonians and mutiny: discipline and indiscipline in the army of Philip and Alexander. Classical Philology 91, 19–44; reprinted with additional material in King and Court in Ancient Macedonia: Rivalry, Treason and Conspiracy, 27–59. Swansea, The Classical Press of Wales, 2015. Engels, D.W. (1978) Alexander the Great and the Logistics of the Macedonian Army. Berkeley, University of California Press. Errington, R.M. (1978) The nature of the Macedonian state under the monarchy. Chiron 8, 77–133. Griffith, G.T. (1935) The Mercenaries of the Hellenistic World. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Griffith, G.T. (1965) Alexander and Antipater in 323 BC. Proceedings of the African Classical Association 8, 12–17. Hammond, N.G.L. (1980). Alexander the Great: King, Commander and Statesman. Park Ridge, NJ, Noyes Press. Hammond, N.G.L. (1990). Royal pages, personal pages, and boys trained in the Macedonian manner during the period of the Temenid monarchy. Historia 3, 261–90. Hammond, N.G.L. (1996) Alexander’s non-European troops and Ptolemy I’s use of such troops. The Bulletin of the American Society of Papyrologists 33, 99‒109. Heckel, W. (2004) Alexander and the ‘limits of the civilised world’. In W. Heckel and L.A. Tritle (eds) Crossroads of History: The Age of Alexander, 147–74. Claremont, CA, Regina Books. Heckel, W. (2006) Who’s Who in the Age of Alexander the Great. Malden, MA and Oxford, Wiley-Blackwell. Heckel, W. (2009). Alexander’s conquest of Asia. In W. Heckel and L.A. Tritle (eds) Alexander the Great: A New History, 26–52. Oxford, Wiley-Blackwell. Howe, T. and Müller, S. (2015) Mission accomplished: Alexander at the Hyphasis. Ancient History Bulletin 26, 21‒38. Lee, S. (2011) A forgotten legacy of the Second World War: GI children in post-war Britain and Germany. Contemporary European History 20, 157‒81. McKelvey, R.S. (1999). The Dust of Life: America’s Children Abandoned in Vietnam. Seattle, University of Washington Press. Milns, R.D. (1976) The army of Alexander the Great. In E. Badian (ed.) Alexandre le Grand: Image et Réalité, 87‒136. Geneva, Fondation Hardt. Olbrycht, M.J. (2011). First Iranian military units in the army of Alexander the Great. Anabasis: Studia Classica et Orientalia 2, 67–84. Olbrycht, M.J. (2013) Iranians in the Diadochi period. In V. Alonso-Troncoso, and E.M. Anson (eds) After Alexander: The Time of the Diadochi (323–281 BC), 159–82. Oxford, Oxbow Books. Olbrycht, M.J. (2016) Alexander the Great at Susa (324 BC). In C. Bearzot and F. Landucci (eds) Alexander’s Legacy: Atti del Convegno Università Cattolica del Sacro Cuore Milano 2015, 61‒72. Rome, Bretschneider. Parke, H.W. (1933) Greek Mercenary Soldiers from the Earliest Times to the Battle of Ipsos. Oxford, Clarendon Press.

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Spann, P.O. (1999) Alexander at the Beas: fox in a lion’s skin. In F.B. Titchener and R.F. Moorton (eds) Eye Expanded: Life and the Arts in Greco-Roman Antiquity, 62–74. Berkeley, Los Angeles and London, University of California Press. Stagakis, G.S. (1962) Institutional aspects of the Hetairos relation. Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Madison, University of Wisconsin. Stagakis, G.S. (1970) Observations on the Hetairoi of Alexander the Great. In B. Laourdas and C. Makaronas (eds) Ancient Macedonia I. Papers read at the First International Symposium held in Thessaloniki, August 26–29, 1968, 86–102. Thessaloniki, Institute for Balkan Studies. Trundle, M. (2008) Greek Mercenaries: From the Late Archaic Age to Alexander. Oxford, Routledge.

Chapter 15 Sophists and Flatterers: Greek Intellectuals at Alexander’s Court

Frances Pownall In their ongoing quest to be taken seriously as the intellectual and cultural equals of their Hellenic neighbours to the south, the Argead kings hosted Greek artists and literary figures at the Macedonian court. In this contribution, I examine the ways in which Philip and Alexander transformed the institution of royal patronage in response to their evolving political and military aspirations. These changes engendered significant repercussions in the bonds between the king and his court intellectuals, as well as among the Greek literati themselves, who were forced to compete with one another for the king’s favour to obtain financial or personal advancement. In turn, the later source tradition, importing contemporary concerns into the bitter rivalries among Alexander’s royal entourage, remodeled the Greek intellectuals at the Argead court into stock figures of sophists and flatterers. For generations prior to Alexander, successive Argead monarchs commissioned leading Greek intellectuals and literary figures not only to shape Macedonian high culture, but to lay claim to a legitimate Hellenic identity in the wider Greek world (Carney 2003, 47–63; Pownall 2017c, 215–29).1 Not surprisingly, Greek poets, playwrights, artists, philosophers and historians continued to form an important part of Alexander’s entourage, even though he spent most of his reign on active campaign in Persia and the east.2 Despite their crucial role in Alexander’s deliberate shaping of his image, however, the ancient source tradition tends to dismiss these intellectuals and literary figures as sophists and flatterers, and focuses instead upon their bitter rivalries It gives me very great pleasure to offer this contribution in honour of Elizabeth Carney, an inspiring scholar and generous colleague, whose scholarship on Macedonian culture has transformed the field and shaped my own work. 2 On the ideological and integrative function of Greek culture and performance in Alexander’s traveling court, see, e.g., Borza 1995b, 164–69; Tritle 2009, 122–29; and Le Guen 2014, 249–74. 1

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with one another. In this paper, I shall argue on the one hand that the realities of Alexander’s relationships with the Greek intellectuals in his inner circle are far more complex and fraught than the rather simplistic portrait that we find in our sources. On the other hand, the tendentious ways in which the ancient sources portray these individuals at Alexander’s court often reveal far more about their own contemporary circumstances than about how Alexander employed them in the ongoing remodeling of his royal image. The reciprocal benefits of the presence of Greek scholars and artists at the Macedonian court appear at first to be deceptively simple and straightforward.3 The Macedonian kings employed respected intellectual and cultural figures to underpin their self-fashioning as legitimate monarchs, not least by providing confirmation of the Argead dynasty’s Hellenic ethnicity and Heraclid lineage, and to offer poetic immortality conferred by the glorification of themselves, their achievements and their ancestors in works of literature intended for posterity. On a more pragmatic level, the Argead monarchs also gained influential ambassadors and intermediaries able to finesse their often tense relations with the Greek city-states and to justify their essentially autocratic rule (always a tough sell to the Greeks of the Classical Period, who prided themselves on their political autonomy). For the Greek literary and cultural figures, the potential rewards of royal patronage went far beyond the mere material, although the financial support of the king (along with the often-lavish gifts bestowed upon those who won his approval) was undoubtedly a major factor. Perhaps even more importantly, however, gaining the favor of the king could translate not only into tangible political and economic benefits for their home poleis, but also into an opportunity to advance their careers and enhance their personal prestige. Admission into the inner circle of the Macedonian king offered access to an audience of wealthy, highly educated, and extremely powerful elites, whose network of ritualized friendships stretched across Greece and beyond. Nevertheless, the patronage of the king did have its drawbacks, as it left the Greek literati open to charges of flattery and deprived them of true intellectual autonomy; in other words, it was a double-edged sword (see Müller 2019, 55). Whereas previous Argead monarchs commissioned works of Greek art and literature as part of a concerted attempt to be taken seriously by the Greeks as equals, Philip was arguably the first to successfully negotiate with the Greek city-states not just as an equal, but as a superior, on the cultural as well as the military front. As a result, he seems less concerned than his predecessors in merely affirming his Hellenic credentials through literary elaborations of the alleged Argive descent of the Argead 3

On the reciprocity inherent in cultural patronage at the Macedonian court, see, e.g., Strootman 2014, esp. 145–64 (whose observations on the Hellenistic monarchies apply also to the courts of Philip and Alexander); Kegerreis 2015, 137–38. Aristotle’s sojourns at the courts of Hermias of Atarneus and Philip of Macedon offer a very specific illustration of this reciprocity; Green 2003, 29–46. On the (necessarily) unequal nature of friendships between Alexander and members of his court, see Roisman in this volume.

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dynasty (perhaps thanks to the efforts of luminaries such as Pindar and Euripides he could now take this as a given) and transforming the palace at Pella into a glittering showcase of artistic splendour (perhaps also a given after Archelaus’ impressive capital-building initiatives). Instead, Philip is more interested in celebrating both his own and his ancestors’ political and military achievements, justifying his conquest of Greece, and gaining support (both military and ideological) for his proposed campaign against Persia, which he deliberately cast in terms of the by-now familiar rhetoric of panhellenism.4 In light of Philip’s increasingly pressing need to present a positive spin of his royal image and his rule to his neighbors (and eventually new subjects) to the south, it is not surprising that he made some important innovations to the longstanding Argead tradition of sponsorship of Greek literary figures. First of all, it appears that he widened the range of the literati that he invited to his court beyond the traditional poets, musicians and artists to include intellectual heavyweights, presumably to provide theoretical justification for his royal self-fashioning and particular ideology of kingship. It is possible that Philip was inspired in what appears to be a shift in the direction of his patronage by the success of Dionysius I of Syracuse, a useful model inasmuch as he too was an autocrat on the fringes of the Greek world who conquered a large multi-ethnic empire (including a significant component of Hellenes).5 In addition to his patronage of poets, musicians and tragedians, Dionysius made effective use of his court historian (and personal friend) Philistus of Syracuse to serve as the mouthpiece of his legitimizing propaganda.6 Furthermore, it is worth noting that the Platonic school’s connection to the court of the Dionysii is well attested, and Plato himself certainly exerted a powerful influence on both Dion and Dionysius II, although it is doubtful that he and Dionysius I ever met face to face.7 Although previous Argead monarchs had sporadically made attempts to entice scholars of serious stature to the Macedonian court – Socrates is alleged to have refused Archelaus’ invitation, Nicomachus (Aristotle’s father) served Amyntas III in the capacity of personal physician, and Euphraeus of Oreus (an associate of Plato) is said to have been an influential political adviser to Perdiccas, Philip’s brother8 – Philip appears On Philip’s deliberate use of panhellenic rhetoric as a consensus strategy intended to achieve the co-operation of the Greeks in his campaign against Persia, see Squillace 2010, 76–80; on Philip’s more general aims, cf. Rubinsohn 1993, 1304. 5 On the influence of Dionyius I upon Philip’s ideology of kingship, see Pownall 2017a, 21–38. 6 On Philistus’ willingness to circulate Dionysian propaganda, see Sordi 1990, 159–71; Vanotti 1994, 75–82; Bearzot 2002, 114–19; Pownall 2017b, 62–78. 7 For a thorough re-examination of the evidence for Plato’s connections with the court of the Dionysii, see DeVoto 2006, 15–29. On Dionysius’ attempts to use the literati at his court as instruments of imperial propaganda aimed at the larger Greek world, especially Athens, see Sanders 1987, 1–25. 8 On Socrates’ alleged refusal to accept Archelaus’ patronage, Arist. Rh. 2.1398; Diog. Laert. 2.25; Dio Chrys. Or. 13.30; the Platonic Socrates claims decisively that he never even met the man (Grg. 470d5–e3). Nicomachus: Diog. Laert. 5.1. Euphraeus of Oreus: Pl. Ep. 5.321c–e; Ath. 11.506 f and 4

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to have been the first to make a systematic and concerted effort to ground his rule in current intellectual discourse. To this end, in addition to the glittering array of artists, poets and playwrights who illuminated the courts of his predecessors with their innovative works of art and literature,9 Philip famously commissioned the services of Aristotle (whose family already had a connection with the Macedonian court) to educate his son Alexander.10 Philip also commissioned Aristotle’s relative, Callisthenes of Olynthus (BNJ 124), to write a suitably pro-Macedonian version of events in Greece between the King’s Peace of 387/6 and the outbreak of the so-called Third Sacred War in 357/6. The fragments extant from Callisthenes’ Hellenica suggest that he took an anti-Spartan and pro-Theban line, a stance that was completely in tune with Philip’s foreign policy.11 He continued this stance in his monograph entitled On the Sacred War, the conflict that offered Philip the opportunity to intervene directly (and ultimately successfully) in central Greece; the surviving fragment (BNJ 124 F 1) indicates (not surprisingly) that the work was composed in order to legitimize Philip’s direct intervention in Greek affairs (Pownall 1998, esp. 51–53). So too the historian and rhetorician Anaximenes of Lampsacus (BNJ 72) followed up his universal history of Greece, which (like Xenophon’s Hellenica) concluded with the death of Epaminondas at Mantinea (the inconclusive result of which arguably laid the groundwork for Philip’s successful intervention in Greece), with a history of Philip (Philippica), in which he focused upon Philip’s reorganization of the Macedonian state and provided a lengthy account of his military campaigns in at least eight books.12 The tradition that Anaximenes taught Alexander rhetoric (did Aristotle replace him?) in addition to his well-attested personal association with both Philip and Alexander strongly suggest that he composed his historical works at the Macedonian court.13 Antipater of Magnesia (BNJ 69), who was probably a student of the Academy under Plato’s nephew and successor Speusippus, also wrote a Hellenic History (Ελληνικαὶ Πράξεις) in which he, like Callisthenes, justified Philip’s conquest of Greece by appealing to historical precedents.14 Marsyas of Pella (BNJ 135–136), a 508e. Interestingly, Euphraeus is attested to have done some intellectual gatekeeping in terms of the level of conversation at Perdiccas’ lavish banquets, thus anticipating the atmosphere of rivalry that (as we shall see) characterized the symposia of Philip and Alexander; cf. Natoli 2004, 32–37. 9 On the leitmotif of innovation that characterizes the works produced by the cultural superstars commissioned by the Argead kings, see Pownall 2017c, 215–29. 10 For a useful compilation of the ancient sources on this well-attested tradition, see Heckel 2006, 51. 11  On the close correspondence between the fragments of the Hellenica and Philip’s foreign policy, see Prandi 1985, 69–74 and Natoli 2004, 63–64. 12 On the pro-Macedonian tenor of Anaximenes’ historical work, see Natoli 2004, 59–61. Anaximenes may be the author of a letter to the Athenians, preserved in the Demosthenic corpus (12), which defends Philip’s political policy; see Squillace 2017, esp. 245–48. 13 On Anaximenes as Alexander’s teacher of rhetoric, BNJ 72 T 1 and 8; on his personal association with both Philip and Alexander, BNJ 72 T 1, 6, 9a and 9b, 27. 14 On Antipater of Magnesia, see Natoli 2004, 99–100 and 110–111 and Sprawski BNJ 69, Biographical Essay.

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half-brother through his mother to Antigonus Monophthalmus, wrote a history of Macedonia. Although the scope of his Macedonica went all the way from the earliest origins to Alexander’s departure from Egypt in 331, the bulk of the work focused upon Philip’s unification of Macedonia and his relations with the Greek city-states,15 which suggests that he too was concerned with legitimizing Philip’s conquest of Greece and that he began to compose it while at the court of Philip II (Kegerreis 2015, 138 and n. 23). Theopompus of Chios (BNJ 115) enjoyed a long and illustrious career as an epideictic orator all over the Greek world before turning his hand to historical works.16 After completing his Hellenica, which covered the period from 411 (where Thucydides left off) to the Battle of Cnidus in 394, when it became clear that Sparta’s attempt at imperial hegemony was doomed to fail, he commenced his magnum opus, a massive and meandering history of Philip’s life and times (Philippica) in 58 books, at the invitation of the king himself.17 Despite Philip’s initial patronage, relations between the two eventually soured, as is suggested by Theopompus’ vitriolic denunciations of Philip and his supporters throughout the Philippica,18 which does not seem to have been published until after Philip’s death (Flower 1994, 32–36). The sheer number of well-connected and influential Greek intellectuals (with the exception of the Macedonian Marsyas) who are attested to have composed either histories of Philip’s reign or general histories highlighting the role of Philip and his predecessors in 4th-century Greece demonstrates that he quickly recognized the potential of circulating such works. The commissioning of historical works glorifying Philip and his rule offered him the opportunity of legitimizing his past military and diplomatic interventions in mainland Greece and of justifying his future plans of expansion through the careful use of historical precedents. In addition to hosting prominent intellectuals as well as cultural luminaries at the Macedonian court, another significant innovation that Philip brought to the longstanding Argead practice of literary patronage was his introduction of dramatic performances into what Eric Csapo has termed “ad hoc festivals,” where they joined a diverse set of competitions and other forms of entertainment designed to celebrate his family alliances and personal achievements (Csapo 2010, 172–73; cf. Moloney 2014, 244–45; Pownall 2017c, 222–23). In other words, Philip deliberately transplanted theatrical performance from its traditional (public) festival context to the private and secular realm of his court, particularly the royal symposium. Csapo (2010, 177–78) On Marsyas of Pella, see Heckel 1980, 444–62 and Howe BNJ 135‒136, Biographical Essay. Inter alia, he is attested to have competed in the contest to compose a funeral oration for Mausolus of Caria (BNJ 115 T 6). On Theopompus’ (self-proclaimed, at least) spectacular professional career, see Flower 1994, esp. 11–27; Natoli 2004, 56–59; Morison BNJ 115, Biographical Essay. 17 Theopompus’ presence at Philip’s court and receipt of his patronage is attested by his contemporary (and rival) Speusippus: BNJ 115 T 7, with Natoli 2004, 56–59 and Morison 2014, Commentary to T 7; cf. Occhipinti 2011, esp. 300–301. Speusippus’ testimony is corroborated by Sozomen, Hist. Eccl. pref. 1.5 (which is not included in Jacoby, but does appear in BNJ 115 as T 5c). 18 On what can be ascertained from the extant fragments on the overall character of Theopompus’ Hellenica, see Shrimpton 1991, esp. 127–80; Flower 1994, esp. 98–135; Pownall 2004, 143–75. 15 16

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further observes that Philip’s incorporation of theatre into his private royal banquets transformed the institutional gift-giving associated with liturgies in the Greek city-states as a way of binding the community together into a fundamentally oneway relationship of the king and the subject of his patronage. Philip’s sponsorship of drama affirmed the bond between the king and the artist on a vertical level, but did not enhance the bonds between individual guests on a horizontal level. In fact, however, I think we can go further. Philip’s main concern was to cement the loyalty of his courtiers at his royal symposia; to this end, he encouraged (often acrimonious) competition among the guests in various ways, including composition and literary and dramatic performance.19 In other words, Philip appears to have deliberately fostered an atmosphere of intense rivalry among the intellectuals and literary figures who were vying for his favor. The often bitter intellectual rivalry that pervaded Philip’s court is best attested by the contemporary letter of Speusippus to Philip, sent in the late 340s (Natoli 2004, 64–66).20 Speusippus endorses to Philip his own student, Antipater of Magnesia, the bearer of his letter (thereby providing the useful information that the latter was present at Philip’s court in person), and elaborates at length upon a number of criticisms that Antipater made of Isocrates during discussion of one of his discourses (almost certainly his Philip of 346) at the Academy.21 Not only does Speusippus impugn Isocrates, but he also turns his pen upon Theopompus, alleging (section 12): “I hear that Theopompus also is acting in an altogether reprehensible manner at court and that he is slandering Plato.”22 After a short defense of Plato for his previous support of Philip, Speusippus continues (sections 12–13): Therefore, so that Theopompus will stop being truculent, call upon Antipater to read aloud to him from his history of Greece and Theopompus will know why not only his work is rightly being erased by everyone but also that he is unjustly in receipt of your patronage.23

On the competitive element of the symposia of Philip and Alexander, see Borza 1995b, esp. 165–69 (169: “[the symposium was] yet one more arena in which were played the deadly games of the ancient Macedonians”) and Carney 2007, 152–53 (“Alexander … seemed to use his largely imported court literati as combatants in a kind of intellectual cock fight”). On the general dynamic of competition at Alexander’s court, see Weber 2009, 83–98. On the social and political functions of the symposium as a microcosm of the courts of Philip and Alexander, see Zaragozà Serrano and Antela-Bernárdez 2018, esp. 121–25; cf. Pownall 2010. 20 On the authenticity of this letter, see Natoli 2004, 18–31. 21 The letter sets out its ostensible purpose in section 1. Criticism of Isocrates ensues in sections 2–11. 22 πυνθάνομαι δὲ καὶ Θεόπομπον παρ᾽ ὑμῖν μὲν εἶναι πάνυ ψυχρόν, περὶ δὲ Πλάτωνος βλασφημεῖν (translation by Natoli 2004, 109). 23 ἵνα οὖν Θεόπομπος παύσηται τραχὺς ὤν, κέλευσον ᾽Αντίπατρον παραναγνῶναι τῶν ῾Ελληνικῶν πράξεων αὐτῶι, καὶ γνώσεται Θεόπομπος δικαίως μὲν ὑπὸ πάντων ἐξαλειφόμενος, ἀδίκως δὲ τῆς παρὰ σοῦ χορηγίας τυγχάνων (translation by Natoli 2004, 109). 19

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These kinds of back-stabbing attacks upon real or perceived rivals for Philip’s favor are reflected also in the tradition that Anaximenes circulated a malicious pamphlet against the Athenians, the Spartans and the Thebans, the so-called Three-Headed Monster (Tricaranus) under Theopompus’ name in order to discredit his rival.24 Theopompus, for his part, wrote a work entitled Against the Teachings of Plato (BNJ 115 F 259); although his attack may have been motivated by Plato’s denunciation of rhetoric, its origin more likely lies in the cut-throat politics of the Macedonian court (Natoli 2004, 150 and Morison BNJ 115 F 259). It is interesting how frequently the word “sophist” is employed by the intellectuals vying for Philip’s favor as a term of reprobation against their rivals. At the beginning of the peroration to his denunciation of Isocrates (section 9), Speusippus dismisses him as “the sophist” (ὁ σοφιστής). As Natoli (2004, 140–41) has observed, “Speusippus’ intention was to exploit both the popular and the Platonic prejudice against the sophists.”25 Speusippus reprises this theme a little later, stating that Isocrates’ student, Isocrates of Apollonia,26 is the successor to his wisdom (σοφία), and implying that he is a sophist too (“a more loathsome fellow you, who have encountered many sophists, have never seen”).27 Speusippus’ dismissal of Isocrates of Apollonia as a sophist likely extends to Theopompus, for (as we have seen above) he continues with the statement that “Theopompus also is acting in altogether reprehensible manner at court” (Natoli 2004, 147). Isocrates seems to have attempted to preempt this kind of criticism in his own Philip (29) when he urges the king not to be swayed by “the general prejudices against the sophists” (τὰς δυσχερείας τὰς περὶ τοὺς σοφιστὰς).28 Nevertheless, in the works in which he defends his own system of education (particularly Plato and the Academy, and the rhetorical training of the sophists), Isocrates lumps together his

BNJ 72 T 6 (repeated in BNJ 72 as T 13c); cf. F 20a and 20b, 21. Parmeggiani (2012) accepts both the authorship by Anaximenes and the polemical intention of the treatise. Flower (1994, 21–22 and n. 37) suggests (I think rightly) that the quarrel between Anaximenes and Theopompus took place at Philip’s court, where both are attested to have been present. As Morison (BNJ 115 F T 10a) observes, the intended audience of the work is not the Greek cities, but Philip himself. Luraghi (2017, 94) comments that the Tricaranus illuminates “a context in which historians were acutely aware of each other’s work and jealousies ran rampant, possibly stimulated also by competition for incipient royal patronage.” 25 Plato’s hostility to the teachings of the sophists is well known; but see e.g., the attempt to achieve a more balanced view of Plato’s engagement with the sophists by Carey 2015. 26 Section 11; cf. section 14. Speusippus does not name Isocrates’ “Pontic student,” but the identification as Isocrates of Apollonia, Theopompus’ competitor in the contest to compose the funeral oration for Mausolus (BNJ 115 T 6a), seems assured; cf. Flower 1994, 56–57 and Natoli 2004, 54–55. 27 οὗ σύ, πολλοὺς τεθεαμένος σοφιστάς, βδελυρώτερον οὐχ ἑόρακας (translation by Natoli 2004, 109). 28 On σοφιστής as a term of political invective, Aeschin. 3.16 and 202 (cf. Dem. 18.276; 19.246 and 250); cf. Natoli 2004, 141. 24

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competitors as sophists in very much the same way as Speusippus and Plato himself.29 Pausanias (6.18.6 = BNJ 72 T 6 = BNJ 115 T 10a) levels the same criticism at Anaximenes in the context of a reference to his spiteful Tricaranus, intended as polemic against his rival Theopompus, introducing him as a “sophist by nature” (ἐπεφύκει μὲν αὐτὸς σοφιστὴς). The dismissal of one’s rivals as sophists, venal and amoral charlatans imbued with false wisdom, appears to be part and parcel of the jockeying for position among Greek intellectuals to gain influence with the king.30 This atmosphere of bitter rivalry intensifies under Alexander, who continued Philip’s practice of marking military victories, weddings and other events with extravagant dramatic and musical competitions, adapting these spectacles as necessary to suit the ongoing needs of his traveling court.31 Alexander’s court contained a large entourage of artists from all over the Greek world, including actors, musicians and other entertainers.32 As Lawrence Tritle (2009, 129) has observed, “the movement of literally thousands of artists of all kinds from across the Greek world to Alexander’s army and empire says much about the lucrative profit to be had in making such a trip.” It is not surprising that the scale of the rewards that Alexander lavished upon the actors who especially delighted him led to their being dubbed “flatterers of Alexander” (᾽Αλεξανδροκόλακες) instead of “flatterers of Dionysus” (Διονυσοκόλακες), as Chares (BNJ 125 F 4) attests in his description of the mass marriage at Susa. Like Philip, Alexander was well aware of the need to legitimize his rule among the Greek city-states to ensure their continued co-operation in his campaign, particularly as he moved farther away from the coast of Asia Minor. Panegyrical accounts of his campaign, highlighting his panhellenic aspirations as well as his pious and moral leadership, were therefore an important desideratum. Callisthenes, whose family had a longstanding association with the Argead court, and who had previously shown himself willing to adopt a suitably pro-Macedonian agenda, was the obvious candidate to serve as Alexander’s court historian.33 The extant fragments from Callisthenes’ history of Alexander’s expedition reveal that the work had a deliberately Homeric and Hellenizing Merlan 1954, 60–81 (who argues that Aristotle also is included in Isocrates’ attack on Plato and the Academy; cf. Markle 1976, 97); Pownall 2004, 21–23. 30 In other words, the rivalry originated from a more general goal of gaining Philip’s favor as opposed to the specific goal of winning the position as tutor of the young Alexander, as some have alleged (e.g., Markle 1976, 93–97 and Shrimpton 1991, 6); see instead Flower 1994, 52–57 and Natoli 2004, esp. 32–66. 31 Le Guen (2014, 249–74) tabulates the performances and competitions held by Alexander during his campaign. 32 The lengthy list provided by Chares (BNJ 125 F 4) testifies to the wide geographic range of the Greek entertainers at Alexander’s court as well as the lavish nature of the celebrations. On these individuals, see Tritle 2009, 125–29. 33 Alexander’s commissioning of Callisthenes is explicit in Justin (12.6.17) and implied by Arrian (4.10.1) and Plutarch (Alex. 53.1. Despite recent scepticism that Callisthenes served as Alexander’s official court historian (Milns 2006/7, 233–37), there is no good reason to doubt this tradition; see Pownall 2018, 59–76 (with earlier bibliography). 29

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tenor,34 almost certainly at the urging of Alexander himself.35 Although Callisthenes was certainly willing to portray Alexander’s expedition as a re-enactment of the Trojan War, the hubristic boast recorded in Arrian (4.9.1–2) he had come to Alexander’s court not to win a reputation for himself but to give glory to Alexander and his deeds (that is, to convey immortality through his history just as Homer did through his poetry), is surely a hostile invention circulated after his trial and condemnation by his rivals at court.36 Although Callisthenes filled the role of official court historian (at least until his condemnation in 327), he may have had some competition for this position from the other intellectuals accompanying Alexander, who were vying for financial benefits and personal advancement. Marsyas’ Macedonian history covered Alexander’s campaign until he marched into Syria after his conquest of Egypt (BNJ 135–136 T 1). This end date of 331 strongly suggests that Marsyas at that point joined his brother Antigonus Monophthalmus, who was serving as satrap of Phyrgia, at which point he could no longer expect any further monetary reward from Alexander.37 So too Anaximenes followed up his Philippica with a history of Alexander’s expedition,38 which suggests that he also was present on Alexander’s expedition as an eyewitness.39 In addition to Callisthenes, Marsyas, and Anaximenes, a number of highly-placed Greek (apart from Ptolemy) officers and administrators at Alexander’s court wrote

On the strongly Homeric flavour of the fragments extant from Callisthenes’ history of Alexander, see Pearson 1960, esp. 40–46; Prandi 1985, 75–82; Pownall 2014, 56–71. Callisthenes appears to have used the epic tradition on the Trojan War in a similar way to legitimize Philip’s intervention in the Third Sacred War, which suggests that the forging of such parallels was encouraged; cf. BNJ 125 F 1, with Pownall 1998, esp. 51–52. 35 On the intended propagandistic function of Callisthenes’ official history of Alexander’s expedition, see e.g. Zahrnt 2006, 143–74 and Heckel 2020. 36 Arrian (4.1.10) distances himself from his source for this statement with the phrase “if it has been correctly reported” (εἴπερ ἀληθῆ ξυγγέγραπται). It is very likely that the allegations that Callisthenes was complicit in the Pages’ Conspiracy were propagated by his rivals at court in order to eliminate a competitor; see Pownall 2018, esp. 61 and O’Sullivan 2019. Similarly, Aristotle’s alleged repudiation of Callisthenes, reported by Plutarch (Alex. 54.1–2) in a context where he cites some Homeric lines alluding to the likely consequences of his alienation from Alexander, is almost certainly an invention by the later (hostile) tradition. 37 So Kegerreis 2015, 156–57; cf. Heckel 1980, 446. Howe (2018a, 174 and n. 117) suggests that Marsyas, following Ptolemy’s example, “used history as royal propaganda to craft an Antigonid message.” 38 Anaximenes concluded his trilogy of pro-Macedonian historical works with a history of Alexander; see Heckel 2006, 27. Unfortunately, the two fragments extant from it are concerned only with Alexander’s troop numbers (BNJ 72 F 29a and b). 39 Pearson (1960, 20) doubts that Anaximenes participated in Alexander’s expedition. But the cumulative weight of testimony that places him there suggests otherwise (BNJ 72 T 1, 9a, and 27; cf. Heckel 2006, 27), although the individual anecdotes themselves are topoi (as is noted also by Pearson 1960, 244). 34

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histories of his expedition:40 Onesicritus of Astyphaleia (BNJ 134),41 Nearchus of Crete (BNJ 133),42 Chares of Mytilene (BNJ 125),43 Aristobulus of Cassandreia (BNJ 139),44 Ptolemy son of Lagus (BNJ 138),45 Ephippus of Olynthus (BNJ 126),46 and Polycleitus of Larissa (BNJ 128).47 Although some of these works appear to have been published in their final form after Alexander’s death, the amount of detail surviving from the extant fragments suggests that they commenced their research during the expedition itself. Although little is extant from their histories, some of them appear to have followed Callisthenes’ lead and presented Alexander’s expedition in Homeric

I have excluded from this list Nicobule (BNJ 127), Medeius of Larissa (BNJ 129), Cyrsilus of Pharsalus (BNJ 130), and Antigenes (BNJ 141) on the grounds that there is simply too little extant from their works to determine if they wrote histories of Alexander’s expedition or something else altogether. I have also excluded Cleitarchus (BNJ 137). Whether or not one accepts the low dating for Cleitarchus as suggested by a fragmentary papyrus in which he is named as the tutor of Ptolemy IV Philopator (P.Oxy. 4808 = BNJ 137 T 1a), at the very least he almost certainly did not participate in Alexander’s expedition and wrote his history afterwards; see Zambrini 2007, 216–17 and Prandi BNJ 137, Biographical Essay. 41 An early publication date is likely for Onesicritus, and portions of his history may have been published during Alexander’s campaign; see Whitby BNJ 134, Biographical Essay and Kegerreis 2015, 144–57 (both of whom suggest that Onesicritus replaced Callisthenes as Alexander’s official court historian). 42 On an early publication date for Nearchus, probably close to Alexander’s death, see Whitby BNJ 133, Biographical Essay and Kegerreis 2015, 152. See, however, Bucciantini (2015, 152–53), who suggests that his work was published during the period of 315 to 301, when Nearchus (along with Marsyas of Pella and Medeius of Larissa) was at the court of Antigonus Monophthalmus. 43 Chares held the position of εἰσαγγελεύς (royal chamberlain or usher), which is generally assumed to have been an Achaemenid office adopted when Alexander began to incorporate Persian court ceremonial after 330 BC. It is not known whether he started to compose his history during Alexander’s campaign or after his death; see Müller BNJ 124, Biographical Essay. 44 Aristobulus held no known military commands, and while it is clear that he participated in Alexander’s expedition, it is not clear in what capacity, although he does not seem to have been part of his inner circle. While the publication of his history in its final form occurred after the death of Antigonus Monophthalmus in 301, it is likely that Aristobulus began composing it during Alexander’s lifetime; see Pownall BNJ 139, Biographical Essay. 45 Of this list, Ptolemy is the least likely to have begun composing his history during Alexander’s lifetime, as his purpose in writing was to establish the legitimacy of his dynasty in Egypt; see the thorough examination of Ptolemy’s historiographic message by Howe 2018a, 155–84 (with previous bibliography). 46 It is not known when Ephippus composed his work on Alexander (the extant fragments indicate that it included his death), but the detailed information that he provides on court life during Alexander’s suggests that he began to gather material during the expedition and composed it shortly after his death. Although his work is often described as a hostile pamphlet, no explicitly negative judgements of Alexander survive; see Prandi BNJ 126, Biographical Essay. 47 Polycleitus served with Alexander’s army and likely held a high command. His work appears to contain detailed personal reminiscences of Alexander’s expedition, and therefore was likely published not long after his death; cf. Sekunda BNJ 128, Biographical Essay. 40

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terms.48 Furthermore, the anecdotal tradition suggests that some of these individuals attempted to curry favor with the king by performing public readings of dramatic set pieces from their works. For example, Nearchus is alleged to have read aloud to Alexander in his bed (shortly before the king’s death) from his account of his sea voyage from India (Plut. Alex. 76.2; cf. Kegerreis 2015, 152 and n. 96). This kind of blatant attempt to score points (and lucrative monetary rewards) from the king in the openly competitive atmosphere of the court seems plausible at least, if not the usual finale of the tradition on these public readings, which is that Alexander rejected such blatantly obsequious renderings of specific episodes from his expedition. Lucian preserves an anecdote on Alexander’s repudiation of Onesicritus’ excessive flattery after hearing a reading from his work,49 and claims that Alexander threw Aristobulus’ history into the Hydaspes, after hearing a highly embroidered account of his supposed monomachia with Porus (Luc. Hist. conscr. 12 = BNJ 139 T 4). In addition to artists, performers and historians (official or otherwise), Alexander’s entourage also included a number of poets whom he commissioned to tell the tale of his exploits in verse.50 Although the information that survives is tantalizingly scanty, the prominent role of the Trojan War in the epic tradition as well as the Greek accounts of the Persian Wars, along with Philip and Alexander’s own deliberate presentation of the expedition against Persia in terms of panhellenism,51 strongly suggests that the poets at Alexander’s court portrayed his campaign as a re-enactment of the Trojan War, just as Callisthenes appears to have done, especially if their goal was to gratify the king. Unfortunately, most of them have come down to us as little more than names. For example, all we know about the poet Aeschrion of Mytilene, who accompanied Alexander on his expedition, was that he was a student and close friend of Aristotle.52 See, e.g., the discussion of Homeric echoes in the works of Nearchus and Ptolemy by Bucciantini 2015, 125–31. It is also perhaps significant that Onesicritus is the source for the tradition that Alexander slept with Aristotle’s recension of the Iliad (Plut. Alex. 8.1 = BNJ 124 F 38). The ubiquitous recasting of specific episodes from Alexander’s campaign in explicitly Homeric terms by the source tradition suggests that this was a theme in many of the contemporary sources, although it was naturally heavily embroidered in the later accounts; see esp. Pearson 1960, 9–13 and Carney 2000, 273–85. Heckel (2015, 21–33) has argued persuasively that the portrayal of Alexander as a new Achilles is a literary embellishment of the later tradition and does not reflect Alexander’s own program; cf. Maitland 2015, 1–20. 49 Hist. conscr. 40 = BNJ 134 T 7; cf. Lysimachus’ similar rejection of Onesicritus’ romanticized version of Alexander’s meeting with the Amazon queen (Plut. Alex. 46.2 = BNJ 134 T 8). 50 So Tarn 1948, 2:55–62 (in a section entitled “The Poetasters”) and Tritle 2009, 127; Pearson (1960, 78) is sceptical that any of the sensationalized details in the source tradition on Alexander derive from the poets. On poetry as a vehicle for Alexander’s kleos in the Hellenistic period, see Barbantani 2016, 1–24. 51 On the panhellenism of Philip and Alexander, see, e.g., Flower 2000, 96–135 and Mitchell 2007, 191–94. 52 Our only source for this information is the Suda (s.v. Aeschrion), who cites the otherwise unknown Nicander of Alexandria (FGrH 1112 F 1). Tzetzes (Chiliades 198.398–400) mentions an iambic and epic poet named Aeschrion of Mytilene, but he seems to be confusing our Aeschrion with the 48

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Often, the poets are attested only in contexts of vocal opposition to Alexander. Pierion or Pranichus (even Plutarch is not certain of his name) is unknown apart from his composition of verses ridiculing the Macedonian generals who were defeated in the disastrous campaign against Spitamenes (Plut. Alex. 50.8).53 Cleitus’ heated response to these verses led directly to the conflict with Alexander that culminated in his murder. Alexander’s violent reaction to Cleitus’ remarks suggests that he condoned the poet’s version of events, which was presumably composed with an eye to his gratification. Neophron (or Neophon) was a tragedian from Sicyon; he was a friend of Callisthenes who was implicated with him in the Pages’ Conspiracy and shared his fate.54 In his narrative of the events that set in motion Callisthenes’ fatal opposition to Alexander and ultimate downfall, Curtius (8.5.6) denounces Alexander’s Greek literati for supporting his proposed adoption of selected Persian court ceremonial. He claims that the blame for this “pernicious flattery” (perniciosa adulatio) did not lie with the Macedonians: Rather it was the Greeks, whose corrupt ways had also debased the profession of the liberal arts. There was the Argive Agis who, after Choerilus, composed the most execrable poems; Cleon of Sicily, whose penchant for flattery was a national as much as a personal defect; and the other dregs of their various cities.55

Choerilus of Iasus, who heads this list as the composer of the worst poems,56 is said to have written a very bad epic poem glorifying Alexander’s deeds,57 leading Horace (Epist. 2.1.234–37) to comment that Alexander did not get his money’s worth (a snide remark that, incidentally, confirms the king’s patronage). According to the anecdotal tradition, Choerilus’ verses were repudiated by Alexander himself, not because of their poor quality (his later reputation as a bad poet may represent an attempt to undermine him by his rivals at court), but because of their excessive flattery; Alexander is said (BNJ 153 F 10a) to have remarked to him that he would much rather have been Homer’s Thersites than Choerilus’ Achilles (multum malle se Thersiten iam Homeri esse quam Choerili iambic poet from Samos cited by Athenaeus 7.296e–f and 8.355c–d; see Rotstein 2010, 49–50. On Aeschrion, see also Tritle 2009, 127. 53 On Pranichus/Pierion, see Heckel 2006, 223 and 232, and Tritle 2009, 127–28. 54  According at least to a confused entry in the Suda (s.v. Neophron or Neophon; cf. Suda s.v. Callisthenes, which refers to him (twice) as Nearchus). On Neophron, see also Tritle 2009, 127. 55 Curtius 8.5.7–8: sed Graecorum, qui professionem honestarum artium malis corruperant moribus, Agis quidem Argivus, pessimorum carminum post Choerilum conditor, et ex Sicilia Cleo, hic quidem non ingenii solum, sed etiam nationis vitio adulator, et cetera urbium suarum purgamenta (trans. John Yardley). 56 The poor quality of Choerilus’ verse is attested also by Philodemus, who contrasts him unfavorably to Homer (BNJ 153 F 10c = BNJ 72 T 26a) and in a fragmentary passage uses him as the exemplar of a bad poet (On Poems 3, F 28, with Janko 2010, 88–89); see also Horace, Epist. 2.1.232–244 (BNJ 153 F 10b) and Ars P. 357 (comparing him unfavorably to Homer). 57 Cf. the 3rd-century AD grammarian and author of a commentary on Horace, Pomponius Porphyrio (BNJ 153 F 10a): poeta pessimus fuit Choerilus, qui Alexandrum secutus opera eius descripsit (“Choerilus, who followed Alexander and described his deeds, was a very bad poet”).

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Achillen). Not only is Alexander’s alleged refusal to accept the excessive flattery of his literary entourage a topos (as we have seen), but he is attested elsewhere to have responded to Anaximenes with the very same quip in front of the tomb of Achilles at Troy,58 a setting that naturally improves the story. It is not clear if this Anaximenes is the same figure as the rhetorician and historian (according to Pausanias 6.18.6, it is not), but it is worth noting that Philodemus couples Anaximenes with Choerilus as examples of bad epic poets in contrast to Homer.59 Curtius (8.5.8) names the epic poet Agis of Argos as the second-worst poet after Choerilus. Similarly, in the very same context of the lead-up to Callisthenes’ objections to Alexander’s “orientalization,” Arrian (4.9.9) identifies as the most notable of the flatterers of Alexander “among the sophists at his court Anaxarchus as well as Agis the epic poet” (καὶ δὴ καὶ τῶν σοφιστῶν τῶν ἀμφ᾿ αὐτὸν Ἀνάξαρχόν τε καὶ Ἆγιν Ἀργεῖον, ἐποποιόν). In his treatise How to Tell a Flatterer from a Friend, Plutarch (Mor. 65d) includes Agis (apparently, as the name has had to be emended into the text) in a list of well-known flatterers of Alexander. In the same work, Plutarch (Mor. 60b) derides Agis for misusing parrhesia to make his flattery more effective, citing a speech purporting to reproach Alexander (“and all you other sons of Zeus”). But the same speech is attributed elsewhere to Anaxarchus, who was notorious in the anecdotal tradition for his sharp tongue and quick wit.60 Along with the epic poets Choerilus and Agis, Curtius also denounces the flattery of Cleon of Sicily. In Curtius’ narrative (8.5.10–20), Cleon plays a starring role in the debate on proskynesis, where he advocates Alexander’s divinity against the virulent opposition of Callisthenes.61 Although it is possible that this Cleon is the same individual as the Cleon of Syracuse who is cited by Stephanus of Byzantium (s.v. Ἀσπίς = Müller FHG iv.365) as the author of a work on harbours, Curtius’ inclusion of him in his list of Greek literary figures notorious for flattery of Alexander (8.5.8) and his close association of Cleon with Agis in the proskynesis debate (8.5.21) suggest that he was considered a poet and not one of Alexander’s technical experts (pace Heckel 2006, 89 and n. 228). In Arrian, however, Cleon’s Gnomologium Vaticanum 78 = BNJ 72 T 27: «ἀλλὰ νὴ τοὺς θεούς», ἔφη, «παρ᾽ ῾Ομήρωι ἐβουλόμην ἂν εἴναι Θερσίτης ἢ παρὰ σοὶ ᾽Αχιλλεύς». 59 Philodemus, On Poems 2, P. Herc. 994, col. 25.5 –12 (= BNJ 72 T 26a and BNJ 153 F 10c); cf. Philodemus, On Poems 1, cols. 42.28–43.1 (= BNJ 72 T 26b), where Choerilus’ name is restored on the basis of the other passage (Janko 2000, 231 n. 8). Williams (2012) has gathered two other fragments from Philodemus which may mention the poetry of Anaximenes as BNJ 72 T 26c and 26d. Janko (2000, 232 n.1) believes that the Anaximenes who composed “atrocious hexameters” in Alexander’s honor is to identified with the rhetorician and historian; Heckel (2006, 27) comments on the tendency of the ancient sources to confuse Anaximenes with others in Alexander’s court. 60 Philodemus P. Herc. 1675 col. 3–5 = DK 72 A 7; on Anaxarchus’ acerbity, see Borza, 1995a, 176–77 and Bernard 1984, 3–49. 61 This is, of course, the way that Curtius presents the matter. On what can be discerned on what the historical Callisthenes actually did and said in relation to the proskynesis controversy, see Pownall 2014, 56–71. 58

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role in the debate with Callisthenes on proskynesis is given to Anaxarchus (Arr. 4.10.6–7), the Democritean philosopher from Abdera,62 with whom Callisthenes had previously clashed (Plut. Alex. 52.7–8). As Anaxarchus was the best known of the Greek intellectuals in Alexander’s entourage who were considered flatterers of Alexander,63 it was natural for the leading role to be directed towards him in all such anecdotes.64 The presence of philosophers not just at Alexander’s court but in his innermost circle suggests that he was interested in going beyond Philip’s patronage of leading intellectuals in order to legitimize his kingship for a Greek audience, although this certainly remained an important desideratum. In view of Aristotle’s close association with the Macedonian court, it is not surprising that he is the first attested author of a treatise on kingship, dedicated to Alexander himself.65 In addition to grounding Alexander’s rule in current political and theoretical debates, Aristotle thereby also invented a new literary genre of reflections on monarchy.66 Despite (or more likely because of) the ongoing rivalry between the Academy and the Lyceum,67 Speusippus’ successor Xenocrates is attested to have written his own four-book treatise On Kingship, which he too dedicated to Alexander (Diog. Laert. 4.14 and Plut. Mor. 1126d). Although it is late and suspiciously pithy, there is an anecdote that Alexander attempted to gain a foothold at the Academy by sending 50 talents to Xenocrates, a gift that he declined, on the grounds that philosophers had no need of money.68 Nevertheless, his authorship of the treatise on kingship does suggest that Alexander was indeed interested in obtaining his philosophical imprimatur to underpin his rule and that Xenocrates was not necessarily averse to providing it. The ancient testimonia on Anaxarchus are collected in DK 72. On what can be teased out on his philosophical stance from the mostly anecdotal evidence, see Brunschwig 1993, 62–67; cf. Borza 1995a, 174–76 and Bosworth 1995, 66–68. 63 Arr. 4.9.9; Ath. 6.250 f; cf. Plut. Alex. 28.2 and 52.3–4; Plut. Mor. 737a and 781 b; Diog. Laert. 9.60; cf. Müller 2019, 256 n. 68. Note that all of these sources date from the Second Sophistic period. 64 So Brunschwig 1993, 71 n. 25; cf. Bosworth (1995, 78), who observes that Anaxarchus functions as a straw man for Arrian or his source. 65 For the ancient testimonies, see Haake 2013, 168 n. 17. Although Plutarch (Alex. 8.4) reports an estrangement between Aristotle and Alexander, this may be an inference from the fate of Callisthenes and Alexander’s subsequent hostility to Antipater (so Hamilton 1969, 22); for what it is worth, the Peripatetic school in Athens maintained its pro-Macedonian stance even after Alexander’s death. Whatever the relationship between the two may have been, the tradition of Alexander’s scientific patronage of Aristotle is clearly apocryphal; so Romm 1989, 566–75. 66 See Haake 2013, 168: “Thus, Aristotle should be considered the protos heuretes of the treatises On Kingship.” 67 On the “structurally competitive nature of the relation between Greek philosophers,” see Haake 2013, 168. Verhasselt (2016) has recently argued that the impetus for the emergence of Περὶ βίων was the polemical relationship between competing philosophical schools; the same conclusion could be extended to other types of treatises, particularly those on kingship. 68 Cic. Tusc. 5.91; Plut. Alex. 8.5; Plut. Mor. 181, 331e, and 333b; Diog. Laert. 4.8; Val. Max. 4.3.ext. 3b; Suda s.v. Xenocrates (thirty talents); cf. Plut. Mor. 1043d. 62

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Significantly, the only attested work of Anaxarchus is also a treatise on kingship. The two extant fragments suggest that he offered reflections on free speech, money and the relationship between the intellectual and the ruler who employs him (DK 72 B 1 and 2, with Brunschwig 1993, 67–68). The survival of these two fragments in particular is almost certainly due to the fact that all of our evidence for Anaxarchus’s association with Alexander is derived from a set of (highly dubious) anecdotes in our Roman-era sources centred around the murder of Cleitus and the proskynesis controversy (Bosworth 1995, 66), where the issues of parrhesia and Alexander’s divinity are paramount. In a number of these anecdotes, Anaxarchus’ rival for Alexander’s favor is Callisthenes (Borza 1995a, 179‒84), whose flattery was more overt (until he refused to toe the line in the proskynesis controversy), whereas Anaxarchus tempered his flattery with acerbic remarks, ultimately rendering it more effective, as is illustrated by the tradition of their different methods of consoling Alexander after the murder of Cleitus (Plut. Alex. 52.3–7; cf. Arr. 4.9.7–8). As we have seen, however, the role played by Anaxarchus in these anecdotes is fluid and dictated to a large degree by the narrative requirements of the source. The best example of this fluidity occurs in the quotation of a Homeric line to the wounded Alexander to the effect that ichor (the liquid that flowed in the veins of the gods) rather than blood was pouring out from his injured leg (cf. Hom. Il. 5.340). The only contemporary source for this apothegm, Aristobulus (BNJ 139 F 47), attributes it to the Athenian athlete Dioxippus. According to Plutarch (Alex. 28.3),69 it was Alexander who quoted the Homeric line, but in the opposite sense, that the blood (and not ichor) flowing from his wound showed that he was indeed human; the transfer of the Homeric line from the flatterer Dioxippus to Alexander himself is obviously intended to absolve Alexander of belief in his own divinity. Although he is aware of Plutarch’s attribution of the blood and not ichor comment to Alexander, Diogenes Laertius (9.60) puts the comment into the mouth of Anaxarchus, who is attested elsewhere (e.g., Ael. VH 9.37) to have made similar sarcastic quips on the topic of Alexander’s alleged divine pretensions. The elder Seneca (through the mouthpiece of the Augustan rhetorician L. Cestius Pius) attributes the ironic jibe to Anaxarchus’ rival Callisthenes (Suas. 1.5 = Callisthenes BNJ 124 T 13), in a context of the lack of freedom of speech afforded to public intellectuals when offering (even facetious) criticism of kings; as he goes to observe, Callisthenes paid for this joke with his life. This conflation between Anaxarchus and Callisthenes in the sources recurs in the traditions on their deaths, for ironically Anaxarchus is recorded to have suffered the same fate as Callisthenes, executed for directing inopportune remarks to a tyrant.70 The varying traditions on who uttered the Homeric tag on ichor clearly manipulate what had become a topos to fit their contemporary (Roman) contexts. 69 70

Cf. Plut. Mor. 180e and 341b; with Curt. 8.10.20 and Sen. Ep. 59.12. In Anaxarchus’ case, the tyrant in question is Nicocreon, the king of Salamis: Diog. Laert. 9.58–59; cf. Cic. Nat. D. 8.82 and Tusc. 2.52; Val. Max. 3.3 ext. 4; Plut. Alex. 28.4 and Mor. 449e. For a full discussion of the later tradition on Anaxarchus’ death, see Bernard 1984, esp. 20–46.

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Another philosopher attested to have been part of Alexander’s entourage is Pyrrho of Elis. According to Diogenes Laertius (9.61), Pyrrho was a student of Anaxarchus who accompanied him on Alexander’s expedition, including the visit with the Indian sages (the so-called Gymnosophists).71 Although he left nothing in writing in terms of philosophical treatises (Bett 2000, 1 and n. 4), Pyrrho is attested to have composed a poem on Alexander, using Homer as his model, for which he received tens of thousands of talents (Sext. Emp. Math. 1.282; cf. 1.271–72 = BNJ 153 F 12b). Although Plutarch (Mor. 331e) concurs that Alexander gave Pyrrho 10,000 talents upon their first meeting, these suspiciously high numbers and the similar tradition that he paid Choerilus a large number of gold coins to compose a poem in his honor suggest that this too is a topos, for which the name of the protagonist was fluid. Onesicritus may have been welcome on Alexander’s expedition at least as much for his reputation as a philosopher as his military experience.72 A student of Diogenes the Cynic (BNJ 134 T 1, 2, 3, and 5a), Onesicritus participated in the voyage to meet the Gymnosophists, at the explicit request of Alexander himself – or so he claims (BNJ 133 F 17), for this statement may represent an attempt at one-upmanship over his rivals, particularly Nearchus, with whom he seems to have had a particularly acrimonious relationship.73 Onesicritus’ famous and influential representation of Alexander as a “philosopher in arms” through the mouthpiece of the Indian sage Mandanis suggests that his creation of this image was something that the king himself endorsed (BNJ 134 F 17a, with Whitby BNJ 134 F 17a and Brown 1949, 50–53). The personal and exclusive relationships that Alexander carefully developed with Onesicritus, Anaxarchus, Pyrrho and the other intellectuals at his court very much suggests that he himself wanted to be considered a philosopher among philosophers. In other words, not only did Alexander want to foster an intellectual bond with his intellectual elite analogous to the military bond that he was in the process of creating with his army (as has been argued persuasively by Anson in this volume), but he also very much wanted to establish his court as an intellectual centre for philosophers that would rival and compete with the renowned contemporary philosophical schools in Athens. Not surprisingly, in the intensively combative atmosphere of the Macedonian court, pre-existing rivalries between individual intellectuals, particularly those hailing from different schools, crystallized into outright hostility and collusion to eliminate a competitor. After Alexander, naturally, these rivalries extended into the The Greek sources seem to use the terms sophists (σοφισταί) and philosophers (φιλόσοφοι) interchangeably when referring to the Indian sages; see the useful tabulation by Bucciantini 2015, 109–10 (cf. Bosworth 1996, 93–94). Nearchus (BNJ 133 F 23; cf. Aristobulus BNJ 139 F 1) considers the “Brachmanes” to be advisers to the king, whereas the other “sophists” were natural philosophers. 72 For what it is worth, Pearson’s chapter on Onesicritus is entitled “The Philosopher” (1960, 83–111). 73 Signs of friction between Alexander’s two officers are evident in Arrian: Anab. 6.2.3 and Ind. 18.9; cf. Anab. 7.20.9–10; see also Pearson 1960, 83–84 and Kegerreis 2015, 151–52, who plausibly suggests that their rivalry extended beyond the military/political to the literary sphere. But for a warning against uncritical acceptance of this tradition, see Müller 2019, 189. 71

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Hellenistic courts, as the kings contended to attract the leading intellectuals to their own courts to provide lustre to their own rule at the expense of their competitors (cf. Schironi 2018). One of the hallmarks of the tension that is evident among the intellectuals at Alexander’s court is the ubiquitous dismissal of their rivals as sophists and flatterers. Arrian labels Callisthenes’ rival Anaxarchus a sophist twice (4.9.7 and 4.9.4), both times in the narrative context of Callisthenes’ rift with Alexander that ultimately led to his trial and condemnation,74 and (also in connection with the proskynesis episode) refers to Alexander’s intelligentsia in general as sophists (4.10.5). Similarly, Plutarch (Alex. 53.1) provides an explanation as to why Callisthenes was disliked by the other intellectuals in Alexander’s entourage: “Callisthenes, who was eagerly sought after by the young because of his facility with words, aroused the hostility of the other sophists and flatterers” (τοὺς δὲ ἄλλους σοφιστὰς καὶ κόλακας). Tellingly, Plutarch places all labels of Callisthenes as a sophist into the mouths of others. For example, in his detailed and vivid narrative of Callisthenes’ vocal opposition to Alexander, he recycles what appear to be slanders circulated by his rivals at court (Plut. Alex. 55.1): “courtiers such as Lysimachus and Hagnon repeatedly claimed that the sophist used to go around priding himself as if he were planning to bring down a tyranny.”75 Just a few lines later, Plutarch (Alex. 55.4) cites a letter attributed to Alexander in which he tells Antipater that he will punish “the sophist” personally for his alleged complicity in the Pages’ Conspiracy. In his own voice, however, Plutarch (Alex. 55.2) refers to Callisthenes as a philosopher (in the context of his rivalry with Anaxarchus),76 although there is no evidence that he ever practiced philosophy of any kind (Bosworth 1995, 73; Pownall 2018, 66–68), which allows him to use the figure of Callisthenes to create an opposition between philosophy and the corrupting flattery of the sophists.77 As we have seen, the application of the title of sophist as a derogatory term has its roots in the popular prejudice exploited by Plato and Isocrates against itinerant intellectuals (particularly in late 5th- and early 4th-century Athens) who taught for a fee, and it was already applied by the literati at Philip’s court against their rivals. Although the Cf. Asirvatham 2017, 267: “Not coincidentally, it seems, Arrian’s authorial presence re-emerges most strongly in his narrative when frank speech and flattery are involved.” 75 ἔπειτα Λυσίμαχοι καὶ ῞Αγνωνες ἐπεφύοντο φάσκοντες περιιέναι τὸν σοφιστὴν ὡς ἐπὶ καταλύσει τυραννίδος μέγα φρονοῦντα. Lysimachus of Acarnania was Alexander’s tutor and accompanied him on his expedition, where in addition to his hostility to Callisthenes he appears to have been on bad terms with Chares of Mytilene (Plut. Alex. 5.8 with Hamilton 1969, 14). Hagnon of Teos was renowned for his luxury (Phylarchus BNJ 81 F 41; Plut. Alex. 40.1) and flattery of Alexander (Plut. Mor. 65d), gossip that simply indicates that his wealth and power aroused envy in his rivals; Billows 1990, 386–88 and Heckel 2006, 128. 76 So too Arr. 4.13.2 (at least by implication); cf. Asirvatham 2017, 271–72. 77 Asirvatham 2017, 271–72. Cf. Plut. Mor. 65d, where Callisthenes is listed as a true friend of Alexander, in contrast to the flatterers. Although it is elaborated by Plutarch, the roots of this opposition between philosophy and flattery in the case of Callisthenes go back at least to Timaeus BNJ 566 F 155. 74

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label clearly has its roots as a form of political invective in the cut-throat atmosphere of Alexander’s court,78 it was later enhanced by the sources on Alexander, who were writing during the so-called Second Sophistic, when the charge of sophism became a rhetorical topos allowing self-professed “true” philosophers to distinguish themselves from “false” ones.79 Similarly, the basic view that flattery was a corrupting influence upon leadership originates in classical Athens, and both Plato and Aristotle suggest that the rhetoric of flattering oratory was a pernicious factor in democratic politics.80 In the changed political circumstances of the 4th century, flattery became a particularly insidious aspect of autocratic regimes, where the ability to ingratiate oneself with the ruler was paramount in achieving personal advancement.81 Thus, the label of flatterer, like that of sophist, almost certainly originates in the contemporary tradition as reflections of accusations levied against their rivals by members of Alexander’s intellectual entourage (Roisman 2003, 305–306). Nevertheless, theoretical treatises on flattery had become a virtual cottage industry by the time that our Roman-era sources were composing their histories of Alexander,82 and so it is likely that they embroidered the portrayals of individual intellectuals at Alexander’s court as flatterers in the earlier tradition in order to offer “safe” reflections on their contemporary imperial circumstances.83 As the preceding investigation has demonstrated, the intellectual culture of the courts of Philip and Alexander was highly fraught and frequently acrimonious, and Cf. Athenaeus (10.434d), who refers to Callisthenes as a sophist in the context of the proskynesis controversy, basing his account on three contemporary or near-contemporary sources: Lynceus (fr. 34 Dalby), Aristobulus (BNJ 139 F 32), and Chares (BNJ 125 F 13). 79 On the opposition between the sophist (dismissed as a purveyor of rhetoric) and the “true” philosopher in the Second Sophistic, see Brunt 1994, 25–52 and Lauwers 2016, esp. 15–124. On Plutarch’s use of sophists as an ideological construct, see Schmidt 2014, 32–42. 80 See esp. Pl. Grg. 463b–467a and Arist. Pol.1292a, with Asirvatham 2017, 264–66 and Kapust 2018, 32–35. 81 See Arist. Pol. 5.1313b–1413a; the topic of flattery may have been a part of Peripatetic discussions, for Theophrastus included the flatterer as one of his character sketches (Char. 2), and is attested to have written a treatise on flattery (Diog. Laert. 5.47); his fellow Peripatetic Clearchus of Soli wrote a work on flattery entitled Gergithius named after one of the most notorious flatterers of Alexander (Ath. 6.255e). Cf. Yona 2018, 606–607: “The charge of flattery, however, which in the case of the sophists had been largely marginal, became a more institutionalized and serious problem as a result of societal and political changes in the Hellenistic period.” 82 E.g., Philodemus’ treatise on flattery; Plutarch’s How to Tell a Flatterer from a Friend (Mor. 48e–74e); flattery is the topic of book 6 of Athenaeus, and avoidance of flattery is a central concern throughout Lucian’s essay How to Write History. Interestingly, in these works the historical exempla tend to be Greek (often Alexander himself), rather than Roman; see Asirvatham 2017, 271–73; cf. Whitmarsh 2001, 304–15. 83 Cf. Asirvatham 2017, 264: “if we accept that flattery is not always just historical ‘subject matter’ for our authors, but can play a role in the creation of authorial personae, then we are somewhat less likely to automatically take historical instances of flattery in Second Sophistic literature as simple reflections of ‘what happened’.” 78

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rivalry in literary pursuits in addition to the hunt and the battlefield became institutionalized as the mostly Greek literati jostled among themselves to win the favor of the king. Although much of the bitter invective that they levied at one another originates in the competitive atmosphere of the Macedonian court as well as the polemical relationship between different philosophical movements, it is reflected and embellished in the Roman-era source tradition, where ideally the role of the intellectual was to challenge a tyrant and his unreasonable demands (which by this point included the divinity of the living emperor). The recurrence of topoi in the source tradition on the intellectuals at Alexander’s court and the fluidity of the identity of the individual playing the star role in these anecdotes,84 as well as their crystallization around episodes involving opposition to Alexander, particularly Callisthenes (who could play the part of “sophist” or “philosopher” according to the narrative requirements of the source) and his resistance to Alexander’s attempted imposition of the Persian court ceremonial practice of proskynesis (which could easily be recast in terms of the offering of divine honors to a mortal ruler),85 suggest that the sources are importing into their narrative of Alexander contemporary concerns from their early imperial milieu. It is undoubtedly through this gradual process of contamination that the intellectually-rich and heterogeneous group of literati who accompanied Alexander on his expedition and attempted in various ways to legitimize his rule in the eyes of their fellow Greeks have become reduced in the later tradition to cardboard cut-out figures of sophists and flatterers.

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Chapter 16 Alexander the Great and the Athenians: Deification and Portraiture

Olga Palagia This paper discusses Alexander’s relations with the Athenians with regard to the issue of his deification in Athens. While the literary evidence is very controversial, a new piece of visual evidence will be introduced. A marble bust in the Athenian Agora is here argued to be a Roman copy of Alexander’s cult statue, erected in 324/3 BC. In addition, the famous marble head of Alexander from the Acropolis, usually thought to reflect a lifetime portrait, is here argued to belong to a posthumous portrait, also showing a divinized Alexander, dedicated by the Attalids on the Acropolis in the 2nd century BC and associated with their dynastic cult. The question of Alexander’s deification by the Athenians has often been addressed with no consensus on whether it actually materialized. If it did, it had a direct impact on Alexander’s imagery in Athens because a cult statue would have been erected. At least two portraits of Alexander in Athens are documented by the ancient sources; in addition, two marble portraits have come to light in excavations in the Agora (Figs 16.1 and 16.2) and the Athenian Acropolis (Figs 16.5 and 16.6). There have been various attempts to coordinate the information of the literary sources with the archaeological remains. What we offer here is a new interpretation of the material evidence, based on the style of the surviving heads. In anticipation, it appears that both images (Figs 16.1 and 16.5) postdate Alexander’s conquest of Asia, reflecting his exalted status as an equal to the gods. After the defeat of Athens at the battle of Chaeronia in the summer of 338 BC, Alexander, along with Antipater and Alcimachus, came to Athens as Philip II’s envoy, returning to the city the ashes of its fallen soldiers.1 This is the only recorded visit of Alexander to Athens. The Athenians, grateful for the generous peace terms offered 1

Just. 9.4.5. See Green 1991, 83–85.

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by Philip, conferred honorary citizenship on both Philip and Alexander and went on to erect their portraits in the Agora.2 These were later seen by Pausanias (1.9.4) alongside a row of statues of the Ptolemies, Lysimachus and Pyrrhus, king of Epirus. The statues of Philip and Alexander in the Agora, seen by Pausanias, may well be identical with the bronze group of Philip and Alexander on a chariot created by the Athenian state artist Euphranor and recorded by Pliny (HN 34.78). Chariot groups were usually agonistic dedications in panhellenic sanctuaries but the group by Euphranor as a commemoration of military victory had a late archaic precedent in the bronze chariot set up on the Athenian Acropolis by the Athenian democracy in 506, commemorating its victory over the Boeotians and the Chalcidians.3 The dynastic chariot group of Philip and Alexander opened the floodgates for further chariot groups to be erected in Athens in honor of Hellenistic rulers. Diodorus (20.46.2) mentions that in 307 the Athenians erected a gilded bronze chariot group of Demetrius Poliorcetes and Antigonus the One-Eyed at a privileged site near the Tyrannicides in the Agora, in commemoration of Demetrius’ triumphant entry into the city on a chariot.4 Did Alexander also enter Athens on a chariot, thus inspiring Demetrius to imitate him 30 years later?5 We will never know. Finally, a surfeit of chariots overwhelmed Athens in the 2nd century, when the Athenians dedicated four bronze chariot groups with portrait statues honoring the Attalids of Pergamon. They were supported by tall pillars of Hymettian marble, one standing in the Agora,6 one in the Ceramicus,7 and two on the Acropolis. Eumenes II’s chariot stood on a pedestal adjacent to the Propylaea of the Acropolis, while Attalus II’s chariot was set up in front of the northeast corner of the Parthenon.8 These chariots, however, were probably agonistic dedications commemorating the Attalids’ victories in the chariot races of the Panathenaic Games, lacking the military implications of Alexander’s and Demetrius’ groups.9 We have no visual records of the portraits of Alexander and Philip II in the Athenian Agora. According to the literary sources, another portrait of Alexander was very likely set up in Athens towards the end of his life. In late 324 or early 323 Alexander received divine honors from the Athenians, while Hephaestion came to be Green 1991, 83. Hdt. 5.77; Paus. 1.28.2. Hurwit 1999, 129, fig. 24; Palagia 2019, 63. 4 See also Plut. Demetr. 10.4. 5 Herodotus (1.60) reports how Pisistratus managed to return from exile by riding a chariot into Athens driven by a woman dressed as Athena. To my knowledge, this is the only documented instance of a politician’s triumphant entry into Athens on a chariot before Demetrius Poliorcetes. 6 Chariot of Attalus II in front of his Stoa: Thompson and Wycherley 1972, 107. 7 Goette 1990. 8 Eumenes II’s chariot adjacent to the Propylaea: Hurwit 1999, 271, fig. 220. It was later re-dedicated to Marcus Agrippa. Attalus II’s chariot at the northeast corner of the Parthenon: Hurwit 1999, 271–72, fig. 221. 9 See Hurwit 1999, 271. 2 3

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worshipped as hero.10 We do not know how Alexander conveyed his wishes for these honors to the Athenians but we do know that the decree was proposed by Demades and supported by Demosthenes (who had initially opposed it) for political reasons, in order to negotiate with the king on the sensitive issue of the vacation of Samos by the Athenian cleruchs in accordance with the exiles decree issued by Alexander in 324.11 Demosthenes told the assembly that it was in their best interest to allow Alexander to be the son of Zeus or Poseidon if he so wished, and he apparently supported the erection of a statue (eikon) of Alexander the invincible god.12 Even though the Athenians voted divine honors for Alexander, the king did not relent on the subject of Samos, whereupon Demades had to stand trial in Athens after Alexander’s death in 323 and was fined large amounts of money.13 Demosthenes also stood trial on the Harpalus affair and his involvement in the deification of Alexander was counted against him.14 All this information comes from the speeches of Dinarchus and Hyperides against Demosthenes at his trial in 323 and from Hyperides’ Funeral Oration of 322. The historians of Alexander are silent on the question of his deification. Despite the skepticism of a number of scholars,15 I believe that the Athenians did establish a cult of Alexander, worshipping him as a god in his lifetime, offering a hero’s cult to Hephaestion at the same time. Hephaestion had been dead since the autumn of 324 and had received a hero’s cult with the sanction of the oracle of Ammon, which Alexander consulted after his friend’s death.16 Hyperides’ Funeral Oration (6.21) delivered at the public funeral of Leosthenes and the Athenian dead of the Lamian War in 322, laments that “we are still forced to offer sacrifices to humans, to neglect the cult statues (agalmata), altars and temples of the gods while we set them up for humans, and to offer heroic honors to their servants.” Even though it has been claimed that Hyperides did not speak specifically of Athens, I take this passage as evidence of Alexander’s deification in Athens during his lifetime and the establishment of a posthumous heroic cult for Hephaestion. Moreover, Hyperides’ words indicate that these cults were not abolished after Alexander’s death and continued to exist even after the revolt of Athens against Macedon in 322. The divine honors for Alexander provided the paradigm for similar honors offered to Hellenistic rulers in the 3rd and 2nd centuries, beginning with Demetrius Hyp. 5.31–32; Hyp. 6.21; Din. 1.94; Polyb. 12.12b3; Plut. Mor. 804b and 842d; Ath. 6.251b; Val. Max. 7.2, ext. 13; Ael. VH 2.19 and 5.12. On Alexander’s deification, see Badian 1981; Bosworth 1993, 288–89; Anson 2013, 114–20; Habicht 2017, 21–26, 159–61, 187. See also n. 15 below. 11 On the exiles decree and its implications for the Athenian occupation of Samos, see Anson 2013, 114–15. For the exiles decree, see Diod. 17.109.1; 18.8.2–7; Curt. 10.2.4–7; Just. 13.5.2–6. Demades proposed the motion: Din. 1.94. Demosthenes supported it: Hyp. 5.31–32. Demosthenes’ initial opposition: Polyb. 12.12b.3. 12 Hyp. 5.31–532. 13 Din. 1.94. 14 Hyp. 5.31–32. 15 Cawkwell 1994; Badian 1996; Worthington 2001; Siekierka 2016. 16 Arr. 7.23.6; Plut. Al. 72.3. 10

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Poliorcetes. When he entered Athens in 291 at the head of a religious procession, he was addressed in an ithyphallic hymn as son of Poseidon and Aphrodite.17 It has been suggested that the association with Poseidon indicated naval victories but no such victories of any significance can be claimed for Alexander. I think that Poseidon’s parentage was a means of assimilating the ruler to the Athenian national hero, Theseus, who was the alleged son of Poseidon.18 In his article “Alexander between two thrones and heaven,” Ernst Badian19 claimed that the Athenians did not actually offer divine honors to Alexander but erected a portrait statue (eikon) to Alexander as invincible god, which makes too fine a distinction between a portrait statue of a human as god and an actual cult statue. The problem hinges on the use of the word agalma to denote a cult statue in distinction with the word eikon signifying an honorary portrait.20 However, the distinction between these two terms became blurred in the Hellenistic period to the extent of describing cult statues of rulers as agalmata eikonika.21 In an earlier article on the deification of Alexander, Badian had written, “I personally agree with those who, like Habicht, believe that a cult of Alexander was in fact instituted. Obviously, it did not survive long enough to leave any traces we could expect to recognize.”22 It is clear that Badian had looked and did not find any archaeological evidence of Alexander’s cult in Athens, hence the skepticism expressed in his final verdict on the question. It is now time to examine the marble portraits of Alexander found in Athens to see if they offer any clues on the issue. We begin with an unfinished bust of Alexander in Thasian marble found in the excavations of the Athenian Agora in 1959, embedded in the post-Herulian fortification wall (Figs  16.1 and 16.2).23 It is colossal, and was copied from another prototype as is attested by seven measuring points on the chin, the forehead locks and the sides of the head. The copy dates from the 2nd century AD and probably comes from one of the sculptural workshops active in the area at the time. As Roman copies found in Athens tend to draw on originals which actually stood in Athens, it is generally assumed that this bust reflects a portrait of Alexander erected in Athens. The bust form indicates that it is an abbreviated copy as the artist did not choose to include the rest of the figure. It was probably intended for private use, decorating a niche in a villa. Alexander’s head and shoulders are supported by an oblong base, decorated with acanthus leaves on top. A raised strip around the edge of the bust is probably a Ithyphallic hymn: Ath. 6.253d-f. See Holton 2014 (with earlier references). Palagia 2016, 74–76. 19 Badian 1996, 26. 20 Worthington (2001) argues against the deification of Alexander on the strength of Hyperides’ use of the word eikon rather than agalma. 21 Ath. 5.205 so describes the cult statues of the ancestors of Ptolemy IV erected on his thalamegos. 22 Badian 1981. Bosworth (1993, 188–89) also believed that Alexander’s cult was short-lived. But Hyperides’ Funeral Oration indicates that it survived Athens’ revolt against Macedon in 322. 23 Athens, Agora Museum S 2089. Harrison 1960, 382–89, pl. 85 c and d; Gawlinski 2014, 81–82, fig. 48. 17 18

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Fig. 16.1. Unfinished bust of Alexander. Athens, Agora Museum S 2089. Photo: Olga Palagia

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Fig. 16.2 Unfinished bust of Alexander. Left profile. Athens, Agora Museum S 2089. Photo: Olga Palagia

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protective surface that was meant to be cut away. Alexander wears a head band, which is not, however, a royal diadem for its ends are not tied at the back of the head. He is identified by means of his anastole, luxuriant hair, upward gaze and crooked neck. The nearest parallel to this type of Alexander portrait is provided by a head from Alexandria in the British Museum, characterized by similar full lips and bifurcated hair locks over the forehead (Fig. 16.3).24 Evelyn Harrison, who published the unfinished bust from the Agora, pointed out that it copies a prototype of the 4th century and is therefore a lifetime portrait of Alexander.25 Even though the only Athenian sculptor known to have made a portrait of Alexander in Athens is Euphranor, she attributed the original to Leochares, an Athenian sculptor who created the dynastic portraits of Philip II and his family for the Philippeum at Olympia sometime after 338 and before Philip’s death in 336.26 These statues have vanished without trace; moreover, Leochares is a phantom and his style eludes us.27 A balanced assessment of the Agora bust is compounded by the fact that it is stylistically and iconographically close to the type of the so-called Eubouleus from the sanctuary of Demeter and Core at Eleusis (Fig. 16.4).28 A second copy of the same prototype from Eleusis, which had inlaid eyes, indicates that we are dealing with a hero related to the cult of Demeter and Core.29 About nine more copies of this type, mostly coming from Athens, are known.30 Evelyn Harrison identified all of these heads as portraits of Alexander but this has not been accepted.31 Scholars on the whole have tended to treat all examples, including the Agora Alexander, as copies of an Eleusinian mythological figure.32 Klaus Fittschen placed them all in a new category, which he called imitations of Alexander in the Roman period.33 However, the Agora bust is sufficiently close to Alexander portraiture to allow us to distinguish it from the other examples, which appear to represent a mythological figure imitating the hairstyle though not the facial features of Alexander. The Agora bust must stand by itself. That it is a portrait of a historical person and not a mythological hero is also suggested by the acanthus leaves decorating the top of its base. As Hans Jucker has shown, acanthus leaves were used in funerary portrait busts of the Roman imperial period. Even portraits of emperors, when accompanied by the acanthus plant, were meant to be understood as posthumous.34 A colossal medallion bust of Marcus Aurelius London, British Museum 1857. Stewart 1993, 331, fig. 124; Palagia 2018, 154, fig. 6.5. Harrison 1960, 384. 26 Statues in the Philippeum by Leochares: Pausanias 5.20.9–10. Attribution of the prototype of the Agora bust to Leochares: Harrison 1960, 386–87. 27 On putative attributions to Leochares, see now Leventi 2019, 366–70. 28 Athens National Museum 181. Schwarz 1975, 71–72, figs 1a–d; 4; 10. 29 Athens National Museum 1839. Schwarz 1975, 72–73, figs 2a–d; 5. 30 On the so-called Eubouleus and its copies, see Schwarz 1975. 31 Harrison 1960, 382–88. 32 E.g., Schwarz 1975; Fittschen 1977, 25 n. 18. 33 Fittschen 1989. 34 Jucker 1961, 133–38. 24 25

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Fig. 16.3 Head of Alexander from Alexandria. London, British Museum 1857. Photo: Hans R. Goette

from the pediment of the Great Propylaea at Eleusis is decorated with acanthus leaves to indicate that the emperor was deceased.35 The addition of acanthus leaves to the Alexander bust was probably the copyist’s idea, as the bust is evidently an abbreviated form of a portrait statue that was not copied complete. 35

Jucker 1961, 91–92, St 38, pl. 35.

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Fig. 16.4 Bust of so-called Eubouleus from Eleusis. Athens National Museum 181. Photo: Olga Palagia

Alexander is represented as a mature man, not a youth; we are therefore dealing with a copy of a portrait erected in Athens after the conquest of Asia. Only one such portrait seems to be documented: the deified Alexander, set up by the Athenians in early 323 as we suggested earlier. If Alexander is here represented as a god, it would

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explain the headband, which is more appropriate to a divine figure, and the colossal size of the prototype. His idealized appearance could easily lend itself for imitation by divine figures like the so-called Eubouleus, which is also a 4th-century creation, evidently post-dating the portrait of Alexander. Why there are no other copies of Alexander’s divine image in Athens, it would be rather hazardous to guess. The present copy was probably created for a domestic setting as there was an upsurge of interest in Alexander in the late 2nd and early 3rd centuries AD. The Agora Alexander has remained relatively obscure not only because it is unfinished but also on account of the confusion with the so-called Eubouleus type. More famous is the over-life-size head of Alexander in Pentelic marble found near the Erechtheum on the Athenian Acropolis in 1886 (Figs 16.5 and 16.6).36 The good condition of the marble surface indicates that it was not exposed to the elements but probably stood indoors. Alexander is shown in the bloom of his youth and wears no royal diadem. The head is asymmetrical, being slightly turned to its proper left. Its Attic workmanship is not in doubt. There are two Roman copies of the 2nd century AD, one found in Tivoli in 179137, another bought in Madytus, modern Turkey, in 1874.38 Because of its findspot, the Acropolis Alexander was hailed as an original of the 4th century BC, from Alexander’s lifetime, and attributed to the Athenian artist Leochares, artist of the dynastic portraits of Philip II in the Philippeum at Olympia, as mentioned above.39 No 4th-century portrait of Alexander was likely to have been set up on the Acropolis, however, as he was not an Athenian (albeit an honorary Athenian citizen). We have no evidence of foreign royal portraits on the Acropolis before the Attalids in the 2nd century BC.40 Alexander’s documented portrait with Philip was set up in the Agora and we do not know the location of his cult statue but again the Acropolis is unlikely as the sacred rock was reserved for Athenians in the classical and early Hellenistic periods. A major turning point in the interpretation of the Acropolis Alexander was the publication of the catalogue of sculptures in the Schloss Erbach by Klaus Fittschen.41 He pointed out that Alexander’s striated hair locks are not attested before the mid2nd century BC. In fact, their nearest parallel is found in the head of an athlete from Rhodes, which is dated around 150 BC.42 Fittschen suggested that the Alexander head is a posthumous portrait, heavily idealized with a quasi-divine appearance. He dated the actual Acropolis head to about 100 BC and accepted Evelyn Harrison’s suggestion Acropolis Museum 1331. Fittschen 1977, 21–22, Beilage 2; Stewart 1993, 106–112, 421, col. pl. 1, fig. 5; Palagia 2018, 157. 37 Perhaps from Hadrian’s Villa. Schloss Erbach 642. Fittschen 1977, 21–25, pl. 8. 38 Berlin, Staatliche Museen, Antikensammlung K 203. Fittschen 1977, 21, Beilage 3. 39 Ashmole 1951. For Leochares, see n. 26 above. 40 See von den Hoff 2003, 175. For the chariot groups of Eumenes II and Attalus II on the Acropolis, see n. 6 above. For the portraits of Attalus I and Apollonis, see n. 51 below. 41 Fittschen 1977. 42 Rhodes Museum 5280. Fittschen 1997, 22; Bairami 2017, cat. no. 64, pls. 213–16. 36

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Fig. 16.5 Head of Alexander from the Acropolis. Athens, Acropolis Museum 1331. Photo: Hans R. Goette

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Fig. 16.6 Head of Alexander from the Acropolis. Left profile. Athens, Acropolis Museum 1331. Photo: Hans R. Goette

that it belonged to a herm on account of its stiff neck even though no portrait herms are so far known before the middle of the 1st century BC.43 He in fact suggested that all three copies of this head belonged to herms. The verdict on the Acropolis Alexander 43

Harrison 1960, 387 n. 73. The earliest portrait herm known to date is the herm of the philosopher Phaedrus from the Eleusinion of the Athenian Agora, dated to the middle of the 1st century BC: Athens, Agora Museum I 5483, Miles 1998, 84, 192, no. 20; Dillon 2018, 132, fig. 11.14.

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eventually settled on it being a late Hellenistic copy of a 4th-century prototype.44 It is even thought to be the earliest surviving copy of any Greek portrait.45 But what is a Hellenistic copy of an Alexander portrait doing on the Athenian Acropolis? The high quality of the Acropolis Alexander indicates that it is not a copy but an original. His idealized features and rejuvenated appearance, on the other hand, militate against a lifetime portrait and point to the period of the Hellenistic kingdoms, when Alexander’s diadochs produced images of the deified Alexander as the ultimate source of their power and legitimacy. A good parallel of a posthumous statue of a youthful Alexander without royal diadem is the Alexander from Magnesia on Sipylus, created in the Attalid kingdom in the second half of the 2nd century BC (Fig. 16.7).46 A colossal head of Alexander from the Dodekatheon of Delos is a youthful image of a deified Alexander, which served as one of the cult statues in that temple.47 It has been variously dated to the 3rd or 2nd century BC but I would be inclined to date it to the 2nd century on account of its style. If the Acropolis Alexander is a posthumous portrait created in the 2nd century BC, its presence on the Acropolis can be explained if we associate it with the Attalid monuments set up on the Acropolis. During the 2nd century BC Attalus I and his sons Eumenes II and Attalus II, who reigned after him, developed a very special relationship with Athens as benefactors of the city and recipients of civic honors, of Athenian citizenship and indeed of cult. In 200 BC, while King Attalus I was visiting Athens, the Athenians declared war on Philip V of Macedon, voted to destroy all monuments to the king and his ancestors in Athens and abolished the tribes Antigonis and Demetrias created in honor of Antigonus the One-Eyed and his son Demetrius Poliorcetes in the late 4th century. In token of appreciation of Attalus’ help in the war against Macedon, they created a new tribe, Attalis, with Attalus as eponymous hero, which entitled him to the reception of cult.48 This initiated a series of public benefactions by the Attalids: a Stoa built by Eumenes II near the theater of Dionysus, another Stoa built in the Agora by Attalus II,49 and a bronze battle group set up by Attalus I south of the Parthenon, commemorating the victories of the Attalids against the Gauls, of the Athenians against the Persians at Marathon, as well as the battles of gods and giants and Greeks against Amazons.50 In addition to the two bronze chariot groups erected on the Acropolis by the Athenians in honor of Eumenes II and Attalus II mentioned earlier, we have evidence of a marble group of Attalus I and his wife Apollonis erected inside a temple of Athena on the Acropolis. A fragmentary life-size marble portrait head of Attalus I that came Fittschen 1977, 22; Stewart 2003, 35; Leventi 2019, 370. Niemeier 1985, 107–108. 46 Istanbul Archaeological Museum 709. Stewart 1993, 427, fig. 133; Palagia 2018, 154–56, fig. 6.6. 47 Delos Museum A 4184. Queyrel 2016, 148–50, fig. 121. 48 Polyb. 16.25.8–9; Liv. 31.15.6. Habicht 1999, 197–98: Palagia (forthcoming). 49 Stoa of Eumenes: Travlos 1971, 523–526. Stoa of Attalus II: Thompson and Wycherley 1972, 103–8. 50 Queyrel 2016, 225–33 (with earlier references). 44 45

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Fig. 16.7 Head from statue of Alexander from Magnesia on Sipylos. Istanbul Archaeological Museum 709. Photo: Hans R. Goette

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to light on the Athenian Acropolis has been associated with another fragmentary head of similar scale portraying a woman, who was subsequently identified with his wife Apollonis.51 The two heads are slightly turned towards each other. Both are made of Parian marble and their skin is highly polished. The lack of weathering on the marble surface indicates that the statues were sheltered inside a temple, probably the Erechtheum. It is now impossible to know whether we are dealing with honorific portraits or divine images of the royal couple conceived as synnaoi to the goddess. The roughly worked sides of the head and neck of the female portrait may indicate that it was made in the acrolithic technique, which is evidence of a cult statue. In any case, the presence of an image of Attalus I in the temple of Athena may be easily explained by the fact that he was an eponymous hero of Athens. We assume that the statues of the royal couple were dedicated by the Athenians. Now considering the privileged position of the image of Alexander in the royal courts of the Hellenistic kings, and bearing in mind, first, the 2nd-century date that we proposed earlier for the Acropolis Alexander and second, its findspot near the Erechtheum, I would like to suggest that the image of Alexander was placed alongside Attalus and Apollonis. The fact that it is on a larger scale, made of different marble and in a different style suggests that it was added at a later stage. It was probably a statue and not a herm as has repeatedly been suggested, on account of its asymmetrical features. In view of Alexander’s cult in Athens, which we assume had outlasted his demise, it may well be that the Acropolis Alexander was a cult statue. In any case, it appears that the deified Alexander finally made it to the Acropolis sanctioned by the great friends of the Athenian people, the Attalid dynasty.

Bibliography

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51

Head of Attalus I: Athens, Acropolis Museum 2335. Queyrel 2003, 127–129, C 5, pl. 19,1; Palagia (forthcoming). Head of Apollonis: Athens, Acropolis Museum 3628. Queyrel 2003, 268–269, H 3, pl. 59; Palagia (forthcoming).

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Dillon, S. (2018) Portrait statues in the City Eleusinion in Athens. In C. M. Draycott, R. Raja, K. Welch and W.T. Wootton (eds) Visual Histories of the Classical World. Essays in Honour of R.R.R. Smith, 119–38. Turnhout, Brepols. Fittschen, K. (1977) Katalog der antiken Skulpturen in Schloss Erbach. Berlin, Gebr. Mann. Fittschen, K. (1989) “Barbaren”-Köpfe: zur Imitation Alexanders d. Gr. In der mittleren Kaiserzeit. In S. Walker and A. Cameron (eds) The Greek Renaissance in the Roman Empire, 108–13. Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies Supplement 55. London, Institute of Classical Studies. Gawlinski, L. (2014) The Athenian Agora. Museum Guide. Princeton, American School of Classical Studies. Goette, H.R. (1990). Eine grosse Basis vor dem Dipylon in Athen. Mitteilungen des Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts. Athenische Abteilung 105, 170–78. Green, P. (1991) Alexander of Macedon, 336–323 BC. A Historical Biography. Berkeley, Los Angeles and London, University of California Press. Habicht, C. (1999) Athens from Alexander to Antony. Translated by D. Lucas Schneider. Cambridge, MA and London, Harvard University Press. Habicht, C. (2017) Divine Honors for Mortal Men in Greek Cities. Translated by J. N. Dillon. Ann Arbor, Michigan Classical Press. Harrison, E.B. (1960) New sculpture from the Athenian Agora, 1959. Hesperia 29, 369–92. Holton, J.R. (2014) Demetrios Poliorketes, son of Poseidon and Aphrodite. Cosmic and memorial significance in the Athenian ithyphallic hymn. Mnemosyne 67, 370–90. Hurwit, J.M. (1999) The Athenian Acropolis. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Jucker, H. (1961) Das Bildnis im Blätterkelch. Lausanne and Feiburg i. Br., Urs Graf., Verlag Olten. Leventi, I. (2019) The great masters of the fourth century. In O. Palagia (ed), Handbook of Greek Sculpture, 360–94. Berlin and Boston, De Gruyter. Miles, M.M. (1998) The City Eleusinion. The Athenian Agora 31. Princeton, American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Niemeier, J.-P. (1985) Kopien und Nachahmungen im Hellenismus. Bonn, Rudolf Habelt. Palagia, O. (2016) Visualising the gods in Macedonia: From Philip II to Perseus. In P.P. Iossif and W. van de Put (eds) Greek Iconographies: Identities and Media in Context, Pharos 22.1, 73–98. Leuven, Peeters. Palagia, O. (2018) The reception of Alexander in Hellenistic art. In K.R. Moore (ed.) Brill’s Companion to the Reception of Alexander the Great, 140–61. Leiden and Boston, Brill. Palagia, O. (2019) The painted Battle of Oinoe in the Stoa Poikile and the events of 506 BC. In J. Fouquet, S. Herzog, K. Meese and T. Wittenberg (eds) Argonautika. Festschrift für Reinhard Stupperich, 61–65. Boreas Beiheft 12. Marsburg and Padburg, Scriptorium. Palagia, O. (forthcoming) The cult statues of the Ptolemies and the Attalids. In S.G. Caneva (ed.) The Materiality of Hellenistic Ruler Cults. Kernos Suppl. 36. Liège, Presse Universitaire de Liège. Queyrel, F. (2003) Les portraits des Attalides. Fonction et représentation. Paris, De Boccard. Queyrel, F. (2016) La sculpture hellénistique I. Formes, thèmes et fonctions. Paris, Picard. Schwarz, G. (1975) Zur sogenannten Eubouleus. J. Paul Getty Museum Journal 2, 71–84. Siekierka, P. (2016) Another note on deification of Alexander in Athens. In K. Nawotka and A. Wojciechowska (eds) Alexander the Great and the East. History, Art, Tradition, 263–271. Wiesbaden, Harrassowitz. Stewart, A. (1993) Faces of Power. Alexander’s Image and Hellenistic Politics. Berkeley, Los Angeles and Oxford, University of California Press. Stewart, A. (2003) Alexander in Greek and Roman art. In J. Roisman (ed.) Brill’s Companion to Alexander the Great, 31–66. Leiden and Boston, Brill. Thompson, H.A. and R.E. Wycherley (1972) The Agora of Athens. The Athenian Agora 14. Princeton, American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Travlos, J. (1971) Pictorial Dictionary of Ancient Athens. London, Thames and Hudson.

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von den Hoff, R. (2003) Tradition and innovation: portraits and dedications on the early Hellenistic Akropolis. In O. Palagia and S.V. Tracy (eds) The Macedonians in Athens 322–229 BC, 173–85. Oxford, Oxbow Books. Worthington, I. (2001) Hyperides 5.32 and Alexander the Great’s statue. Hermes 129, 129–31.

Concluding Remarks

Frances Pownall, Edward M. Anson and Monica D’Agostini As recent scholarship has demonstrated,1 the Hellenistic courts of the Antigonids, Seleucids and Ptolemies operated through networks of personal relations, rather than the rather more impersonal institutional apparatus of modern states. But of course the intensely social nature of power at the courts of the Successors did not arise out of a vacuum in the post-Alexander landscape of the Hellenistic world, but instead originated in the transformative role of Philip II and Alexander the Great in the development of a dynamic centering on the affective bond between the king and the members of his court. One of the first to recognize the very personal nature of political agency in Ancient Macedonia was Elizabeth Carney, whose scholarship has paved the way in moving beyond strict political and military history to acknowledge the crucial role of affective relationships at the Argead courts of Philip and Alexander.2 Following Carney’s lead, the essays in this collection have attempted to refine the complex web of personal relations through which Philip and Alexander maintained and negotiated their royal power, and the repercussions of these intra- and extra-familial networks in the courts of the Hellenistic Successors who ruled the fractured kingdoms of Alexander’s once vast empire. The editors have grouped these essays examining the affective relationships at the courts of Philip and Alexander (and beyond) into two large categories, corresponding to the intra-familial (“The Restricted Oikos”) and extra-familial (“The Extended Oikos”) networks surrounding the exercise of royal power. The bonds of affection between members of the birth family of the monarch tended to remain strong, but generally did not extend beyond to half- (or step-) siblings, or to spouses. Furthermore, familial 1 2

See, e.g., Strootman 2014; 2019; the essays in Erskine et al. 2017; Heitmann-Gordon 2017. For Carney’s own assessment of the important ways in which scholarship on Ancient Macedonia has evolved over the course of her career, see Carney 2015, ix–xxv.

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affection between the king and the members of his restricted oikos proved tempting fodder for exaggeration and manipulation in the later tradition, especially in the case of the larger than life figure of Alexander the Great. Marriage offered a time-honored method of achieving affiliation with the restricted oikos, and the affective bonds formed by these unions also played an important role in the negotiation of both authority and legitimacy. Because Alexander spent most of his reign on active campaign, he did not embark upon the traditional path of dynastic marriage, and instead his liaisons were directed first and foremost towards securing immediate military advantage and then eventually towards achieving legitimacy among his new subjects. After his death, Antipater returned to the former practice of cementing political ties through the carefully-selected marriages of his daughters (some of them, multiple times), but these bonds did not survive the collapse of the traditional Macedonian monarchy, and proved no help at all to his son and would-be successor, Cassander. In the politically-fragmented world of the Hellenistic kingdoms, dynastic marriages tended to occur between royal dynasties and no longer offered an opportunity for local elites to obtain an affiliation to the ruling house. One of the most important protocols for achieving affiliation with the monarchy in Ancient Macedonia was through the affective bond of friendship. Despite the opportunity that friendship offered for personal and political advancement and/or financial enrichment, in the cut-throat atmosphere of the Argead and Hellenistic courts it often proved to be fraught with potential danger. Friendship with the Argead kings, as is the case with any monarch, was necessarily an unequal proposition. Despite the illusion that the Argead king was a primus inter pares, the Macedonian monarchy remained very much an autocracy, and those members of the court who attempted to challenge the king’s traditional legitimacy did not end well. Rivalry between competitors for friendship with the king (and the very tangible benefits that it offered) introduced further tension into the social dynamic of the Argead court. Nevertheless, questioning of motives and character assassination were practiced not only by contemporary members of Alexander’s inner circle to remove a rival, but also by the later source tradition, which often had its own political agenda. Homosexual relationships introduced yet another level of fault lines in the king’s entourage, and occasionally even incited regicide. It is important, however, to recognize that this kind of “institutionalized pederasty” (a useful phrase coined by Elizabeth Carney) continued to offer an important model (whether real or alleged) for the dynastic legitimacy of Alexander’s Successors.3 Rivalry was not limited to the king’s officers and members of his inner circle, and so friendship (loosely defined) ranged well beyond the oikos. Hellenistic kings were also most often military commanders whose connection to his troops was to be personal. Moreover, the cast of characters who flocked to join Alexander’s traveling entourage in search of lucrative rewards numbered in the thousands and advancement 3

Carney 1983, 272 = Carney 2015, 162; cf. Mortensen 2011.

Concluding Remarks

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was only possible by negotiating (by whatever means possible) a personal relationship with the king. Competition between members of his entourage was rife and to a large degree became institutionalized, as individual intellectuals jostled for position in the intensively combative atmosphere of the Macedonian court. But even royal patronage was not altogether one-sided, for both Philip and Alexander sought to attract scholars to their courts, forging personal bonds with the Greek intellectuals who could provide theoretical justification to the largely autocratic nature of their rule and join in establishing the Argead court as a center of culture and philosophy that could compete with the contemporary schools at Athens. While the network of personal relationships that bound the Argead king in concentric circles to his entourage was necessarily complex, it was by no means one-sided, and both the monarch and his subjects stood to gain from these affective bonds, albeit in very different ways. Although undoubtedly much work remains yet to be done to untangle the complex web of personal relationships within the extended royal oikos of Ancient Macedonia, building on the seminal scholarship of Elizabeth Carney the papers in this volume have elucidated the important role played by affective bonds. Although the king did hold the balance of power at the Argead court, the cultivation of a personal relationship offered members of his entourage (in whatever capacity) a certain degree of agency. The power dynamic therefore was not entirely dictated by the king, and the bonds that members of the court were able to develop with him afforded a certain degree of reciprocity. The social structure of the Argead courts of Philip and Alexander was highly influential in the development of their own court systems by the Successors, who adapted and transformed it as necessary for the success of their new dynasties in the changed world of the Hellenistic kingdoms.

Bibliography

Carney, E.D. (1983) Regicide in Macedonia. Parola del Passato 38, 260–72 = E.D. Carney (2015) King and Court in Ancient Macedonia: Rivalry, Treason and Conspiracy, 155–65. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. Carney, E. and Ogden, D. (eds) (2010) Philip II and Alexander III: Father and Son, Lives and Afterlives. New York, Oxford University Press. Erskine, A., Llewellyn-Jones, L., and Wallace, S. (eds) (2017) The Hellenistic Court: Monarchic Power and Elite Society from Alexander to Cleopatra. Swansea, Classical Press of Wales. Heitmann-Gordon, H. (2017) Accommodating the Individual: Identity and Control after Alexander. Heidelburg, Verlag Antike. Mortensen, K. (2011) Homosexuality at the Macedonian court and the death of Philip II. Ancient Macedonia 7, 371–87. Strootman, R. (2014) Courts and Elites in the Hellenistic Empires: The Near East After the Achaemenids, c. 330 to 30 BCE. Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press. Strootman, R. (2019) Regalità e vita di corte in età ellenistica. In M. Mari (ed.) L’età ellenistica. Società, politica, cultura, 133–44. Rome, Carocci Editore.