Alexander caring for the wounded and the dead

Battlefields always revolve around numbers and tactical moves. The human aspect is generally left out, simply because it is an inevitable by-product of war. Modern warfare is far more clinical, and statistics of the number of dead and wounded are kept pretty accurately.

In antiquity, the situation was entirely different. A person’s life was of little value. Men died in battle, women died in childbirth, and if they managed to escape that fate, they could fall victim to raids from a neighboring town and finally die as slaves. Not the happiest prospect for any being, unless you belonged to the upper class of society. But still.

The Greeks considered that dying on the battlefield was an honorable death, but they were not ready to sacrifice their lives for that sole purpose.

When I watched Oliver Stone’s picture of the aftermath of the Battle of Gaugamela with hundreds and thousands of corpses spread over the battlefield, I remembered a similar shot of Atlanta in the movie Gone with the Wind. In both scenarios, I wondered about the smell of the decaying bodies of men and beasts, the puddles of blood and excrement, the buzzing of the flies, and the vultures uttering their guttural screams. There is nothing glorious left on a battlefield after the victory is claimed by one party.

Following Alexander on his major confrontations at the Granicus, at Issus, at Gaugamela, and on the Hydaspes, our sources from antiquity wind up producing the strangest figures when it comes to counting the dead. Numbers on either side have been distorted. They were either to make the losses on the enemy’s side much higher than they were or to reduce the casualties on Alexander’s side to a questionable minimum. It is impossible to verify any of the information that has reached us through Arrian, Plutarch, Diodorus, Curtius, or Justin, more so because it was penned down centuries after the facts.

As to the wounded, it seems they were not accounted for, or only in exceptional cases. Counting the dead on a battlefield did not equate to the ultimate number of casualties. Many of the wounded were bound to die afterward. 

Hygiene was a foreign word in antiquity, and if there was any basic knowledge, it was a far cry from our modern concept. We should remember, however, that Alexander had a great interest in medicine and learned from Aristotle everything he could. Healing illnesses with plants and specific concoctions was one aspect, but stitching the soldiers’ cuts back together and cleaning their wounds was another.

If we consider the many cases of trepanation that were successfully carried out since the Neolithic, we must admit that the knowledge available in antiquity is far beyond what we might think. Philip, Alexander’s father, lost an eye and survived the operation quite well. So did Antigonus Monophthalmus. Speaking of eyes, it is known that cataract surgeries were performed as early as 4,000 BC by the Egyptians. The list of medical wonders is probably endless, but the point I am trying to make is that the physicians in Alexander’s army were far more knowledgeable than we may believe. Cleanliness certainly was one of the main requirements. 

Early last century, for instance, it was essential to wash a bleeding wound with water and soap. This has been done for centuries and may well have been applied by the caretakers in antiquity. In my own youth, when a wound was infected, it was to be soaked repeatedly in hot water and soda crystals. The ancients may well have used something similar. The technique of cauterization was known long before the early trappers in the American West, and that knowledge was inherited from earlier generations. A hot knife, dagger, or even a sword would seal the wound and kill the bacteria at the same time.

It has been reported that Alexander visited the wounded after the battle. Going from one soldier to the next, he listened to their report, how they had been injured, acknowledged their courage, and showed them respect. I am sure that the king checked their wounds and how they were treated. The caretakers and physicians were watched closely by Alexander because he, himself, had considerable knowledge of healthcare and medicine. In the end, he gave his soldiers and the caretakers a huge boost in morale. There cannot have been a better medicine than that. In the end, this may well be the secret to justify the low rates of mortality among the Macedonian troops.

What about the wounded enemies, one might wonder? Well, I don’t think that the Macedonians were inclined to show much pity, if any, to their adversaries. They were not in for half measures, just as Alexander wasn’t. For them, the enemy had to be eliminated. I would doubt if any of the wounded were left behind with some breath in their lungs. 

When the enemy, however, asked to retrieve their dead to give them a proper burial, Alexander did not refuse. We’ll remember how he even sent the body of Darius III back to his mother to accomplish the funeral according to Persian customs. On an earlier occasion, at Issus, the king had also given the Queen Mother permission to bury the Persians from the battlefield. The recovery of wounded enemy soldiers is never mentioned.

The soldiers who died in Alexander’s service always received an appropriate burial with full honors. After the Battle of the Granicus, Alexander instructed Lysippos to create a bronze memorial for the 25 cavalrymen who had fallen on the battlefield. For several centuries, it stood in Dion, the sanctuary of Macedonia.

The list of lavish and expensive burials is a long one. I relied on Frank Holt’s account, as mentioned in his book “The Treasures of Alexander the Great”. For the soldiers as a group, there was a burial at Issus in 333 BC, Ecbatana in 330 BC, on the Polytimetus River in 329 BC, and Sangala in 326 BC. Personal and more elaborate funerals took place in honor of his generals/companions, Hector in Egypt in 331 BC, Nicanor in Alexandria Ariana in 330 BC, Philip and Erigyius in Sogdiana in 327 BC, Demaratus in 327 BC, and Coenus on the Hydaspes River in 326 BC. Also to be mentioned is the gymnosophist and sophist Calanus from Taxila, who immolated himself in Susa in 324 BC. Last but certainly not least was the expensive funeral pyre that Alexander had built for his dearest Hephaistion, who died in Ecbatana in 324 BC.

Clearly, nothing was too good for the dead.

[The picture of the battlefield is from Oliver Stone's movie Alexander]

The edge of the world was not reached

After the Battle of the Hydaspes, Alexander proceeded deeper into Punjab, literally meaning The Land of Five Rivers. He had already made it across the Indus and the Hydaspes. However, there were still the Acesines River (modern Chenab), the Hydraotes River (modern Ravi), and the Hyphasis River (modern Beas) to tackle.

We know he had excellent scouting parties and always relied on local people's knowledge. Still, I can't help wondering if the messages were interpreted or understood correctly here in India.

The idea first occurred when Alexander was confronted with the monsoon rains, which he had underestimated as transpires from historical sources. Rain was, of course, not going to stop him, but these rains were far heavier and more disruptive than anything he knew or expected. The fact that the monsoons were seasonal recurrences escaped the attention of Alexander – or, to say the least, he did not take the matter as seriously as he should. We know that Nearchus was marooned in Pattala for several weeks before having the favorable winds to set sail and meet up with Alexander along the coast of the Gedrosian Desert is one such surprising timing mistake. This is very much unlike Alexander, and the question should be asked whether he really knew or understood the phenomena.

Crossing Punjab, a succession of five mighty rivers swollen by the melting snows from the Himalayas may have been tuned down by the interpreters, the locals, or both. Alexander did not give it the attention required, which cannot be ascribed to negligence. It could be explained that after witnessing countless rivers, among which the Nile, the Euphrates, and Tigris, and the Oxus and the Jaxartes – all major fast-flowing rivers in their own right – it was hard to imagine anything more threatening. Indeed, what could be worse? For instance, in Punjab, he had to deal with a succession of five such mighty and extremely wide rivers. For example, it can be noted that at the points where the army crossed these wild waters, the Indus was about 500 meters wide and the Acesines nearly 3,000 meters!

The Macedonians, by now, were seasoned troops functioning according to a well-oiled discipline whether they were on the march, fighting off some enemy, setting up camp, or crossing a river. They just did it, inspired and encouraged by their king. But eight years of constant warfare had scarred the souls of even the most faithful troops.

The Hyphasis River was one river too many, and the Macedonians stopped in their tracks, bluntly refusing to continue. As usual, Alexander fell back on his excellent oratory skills and tried to rekindle his men's enthusiasm by reminding them of the past glories since the day they had left Greece and all the riches they had accumulated since. They were now so close to the world's edge, and soon all of Asia would be theirs. To Alexander's amazement, his words fell on barren ground and were blown away by the wind. A painful and deadly silence followed his fiery speech.

[Picture from Alexander movie by Oliver Stone]

Coenus, who lately had led the significant cavalry charge at the Hydaspes, was pushed forward by the troops to formulate their resentment. He appropriately reminded his king that many soldiers who had come across the Hellespont eight years ago had been sent home as invalids. Others no longer fit for service had been left behind in newly founded cities. Others still had died in combat or from disease, and the survivors were often in shattered health as they all were marked by years of battle wounds and scars.

In fact, I think that the Macedonian spirit died on the killing ground along the Hydaspes. It had been such an outrageous carnage for so little profit as there were no grand cities to be plundered like previously in Persia. Besides, Alexander had given Porus his empire back, depriving his men of the incentive to face the next challenge or engage in another battle. The continuous downpour of the monsoon rains and the fanatical resistance of the Indians cannot have improved their mood. The army squarely refused to march on and demanded to return home. Coenus' words were received with loud applause, a sign of their far-reaching power.

Deeply offended, Alexander withdrew to his tent, licking his wound, no doubt. The non-negotiable decision of his army seriously hurt his ego and pride. When he emerged from his quarters three days later, he gave the orders to retreat, much to his dismay. This happened in September 326 BC.

It makes me wonder how much, in the end, the Battle of the Hydaspes was a victory for Alexander. His men had given their all, and they had nothing more to offer except love for their king.

Harpalos’ mismanagement or is it Alexander’s?

It is common knowledge that Alexander valued friendship above all. His first core group of friends took shape at an early age when they joined him in Mieza for Aristotle’s tutoring and these friendships lasted till the end of his life. Harpalos was one of them, and he was among those who were exiled by Philip for siding with and supporting his son in the Pixodarus affair. Once he became king, Alexander called them back and promoted them to high positions in his army. Harpalos, however, being physically unfit for military duty, was assigned as Treasurer.

In Alexander’s eyes, his friends could do no wrong, and a few such examples have transpired. There is Philotas’ first conspiracy in Egypt that was reported by his mistress Antigone and confirmed by Coenus, who was married to Philotas’ sister Antigone – strong evidence that Alexander refused to believe. That was in 332 BC, and Philotas survived another two years before being put to death in Alexandria in Drangiana for failing to report or for participating in another conspiracy to take Alexander’s life. It is pretty significant that the king left most of the judging and sentencing to his Companions and the Macedonian army.

The case of Harpalos is another matter and by far the most enigmatic example. Just before Alexander engaged in the Battle of Issus, and for some obscure reason, Harpalos fled to Megarid in Greece. He may have cowardly chickened out, not believing in his king’s victory against Darius, and seeking a safe haven elsewhere. Or, he may have been under the bad influence of a certain Tauriscus, who escaped at the same time to find refuge in Italy. In any case, this indicates that both men had serious reasons to fear Alexander’s wrath for whatever wrongdoing or embezzlement they had committed.

Two years later, however, Alexander inexplicably called Harpalos back and reinstated him with the resounding title of Guardian of the Babylonia Treasury and the Revenues Accruing Thereto and put him in charge of the enormous treasures he had so far collected in Asia Minor and in Egypt. Alexander reassured Harpalos that he would not be punished for whatever happened before. Why he made this decision or what triggered it is everyone’s guess. One would think he had enough capable and responsible officers in his army, he could trust with this highly sensitive position besides Harpalos. Maybe the fact that the aunt of his friend, Phila, was one of his father’s wives played a role, since this relationship also made him a family member. In any case, there is no rational explanation for Alexander’s decision. The fact remains that Harpalos occupied the most powerful position compared to Alexander’s other friends and this was in spite of the fact that he had betrayed his king’s trust.

After seizing the intact treasuries of Babylon, Persepolis, and Pasargadae, Alexander put the largest wealth ever accumulated in history into Harpalos' hands, installing him in Ecbatana with 6,000 troops to guard the booty.

As Alexander headed further east into the heart of Central Asia, his treasurer moved to Babylon where he lavishly spent the amounts of money for his own pleasures with prostitutes and hetaerae, setting up a court only equaled by Nero a few centuries later. He picked a courtesan from Athens named Pythionice, who was covered with gifts worthy of a queen. This extravagant love affair did not last, for she soon died and was interred in a stunning memorial for the baffling price of 200 talents paid for by the treasury. Yet Harpalos’ megalomania did not stop there since he also built a temple in Babylon where she would be worshiped as Aphrodite Pythionic and another expensive monument on the Sacred Road in Athens. This last epitaph was witnessed by our traveling reporter Pausanias several centuries later, who considered it unworthy of the 30 talents it had cost.

After this extravaganza, Harpalos sent for another Athenian hetaera, Glycera. Like her predecessor, she lived like a queen and even received divine honors. Her beauty was trumpeted forth in Syria with a statue dedicated to her beauty and at Tarsus, where a luxurious palace was constructed for her pleasure. Harpalos showed no respect for Alexander and certainly did not reciprocate his friendship. Like on the eve of the Battle of Issus, he probably expected his king to be the underdog in one of the many fights, battles, skirmishes, and confrontations with the barbarians in the east. Alexander would evidently be killed and never return to the court Harpalos had cut out for himself at Babylon.

But Alexander did return from India and soon discovered how many satraps had taken advantage of their privileged position to fill their own pockets. His response was immediate, and he promptly executed the culprits there and then. Obviously, Harpalos had every reason to expect his king’s anger, and he feared for his life. He packed up as much money as he could possibly carry, and with 5,000 talents [that is the equivalent of three billion dollars] and 6,000 mercenaries, he set sail for Athens.

It is known that Alexander sent three different embassies to demand Harpalos’ extradition, but they all returned empty-handed. Thanks to lavish bribes paid by Harpalos to the Athenian politicians – led by the ever-sour Demosthenes - who still resented Alexander’s successes and the Macedonian power, he was able to escape. Eventually, Harpalos was captured in Crete and assassinated by his own men, one year before the king’s own death.

How is it possible that Alexander, the conqueror of the world, was unable to catch and judge Harpalos wherever he was? Many men were killed for stealing less than Harpalos’ extravagant expenditure and the 5,000 talents (equaling 142 tons of silver and 14 tons of gold) he took with him to Athens. Alexander must have been aware of this corruptible behavior but turned a blind eye to it? Neither stupidity nor ignorance can be the reason for Alexander’s action – or non-action - and the most obvious explanation would be mismanagement.

This is an extremely serious accusation, and it is hard to believe that a bright mind like Alexander’s could be capable of such a misjudgment and such a miscalculation. As strange as it may be, it seems that Alexander was not truly interested in money but rather in conquering new territories and expanding his power, since there are other examples of embezzlement that were left unpunished or which he somehow accepted.

There is the case of Cleomenes, whom Alexander had appointed in Egypt to collect taxes and manage his finances, including the building of Alexandria. This man had set up a shady trade business selling wheat to Athens, extorted money from the priests on a broad scale, and cheated the soldiers in his service. An official complaint was filed and sent to Alexander, and guess what? The king not only pardoned Cleomenes for said crimes, ordering him to build a temple in honor of Hephaistion, but he also forgave him all future violations! Unbelievable! Ptolemy was much smarter, and as soon as he became king of Egypt, he executed Cleomenes. Chop-chop!

In between Harpalos’ two appointments as treasurer, there were the cases of Coeranus and Philoxenus, who got away with exorbitant amounts of money. The final replacement for Harpalos, Antimenes of Rhodes, made a reputation for oppression by imposing outrageous taxes, setting up a swindle business with slave owners and travelers on the royal roads. All these financial officers somehow escaped disciplinary actions, or at least none are being documented besides the cases of Harpalos and Cleomenes.

Maybe it is true that Alexander was not much interested in money, at least not beyond the strict necessity to finance his next campaign or war, which would automatically generate a new inflow of money. He loved to give and he gave in style, not only to his close friends but also to new allies (e.g. Porus), to his soldiers as a prize for merit and bravery in combat, and to his veterans sent back to Macedonia, including travel expenses, bonuses, and stipends for the wives they left behind in Asia. He entirely financed the huge Susa wedding, i.e., his own but also that of his one hundred Companions, and he offered wedding gifts for his 10,000 Macedonians who had taken Asian brides on the road. When he heard that his army was in deep debt, he paid them some 20,000 talents out of his own pocket (evidently from his treasury), requiring 280 tons of coins.

Being the richest man in the world with wealth acquired in a short decade, Alexander could not call on anyone with enough experience and skills to manage such huge sums. Even he, although a brilliant general and military leader, had no training in managing such enormous amounts of gold and silver. Even his shrewd father had always spent his money before even having it in his hands, but in his case, the consequences were limited because the amounts were less, and the world in which he moved was much smaller.

To Alexander’s credit, it should be noted that he leaned heavily on the existing Persian administrative system created by Cyrus the Great, but its true implementation would have taken more time since his Macedonian commanders and officers did not (yet) share Alexander’s broad vision of this new world he had created. In the end, they never did, for within one year their king was dead and they now had to manage the empire on their own. This, they could not do either, and they fought each other in fierce competition for the next forty years.

The Philotas Affair – Part II – His judgment and execution

(Continued from The Philotas Affair – Part I – How the plot was revealed)

The following morning, all soldiers are called to assemble under arms. The corpse of Dymnus is brought in, although out of sight of the army, and finally, Alexander appears with a grave and sad look on his face. This is no small matter. He has to conduct the investigation and present the case before his Macedonians, following the prevailing laws. Alexander’s speech is worthy of any plea held by the most accomplished lawyer – a masterpiece in the art of rhetoric (see: Alexander’s eloquence).

He starts by telling his soldiers how closely he escaped death. He shares his deep sorrow at having fallen victim to a conspiracy led by Parmenion, the eldest of his friends who enjoyed so many favors and so much prestige. His tool was his own son, Philotas, together with Peucolaüs and Demetrius, and Dymnus, whose body is then made visible to the crowd. Laments and sounds of indignation arise.

At this point, the informants Nicomachus and Cebalinus, together with Metron, are brought forward, and Alexander praises them for their courage as they go straight to his tent to warn him of the conspiracy. Philotas in an effort to keep the matter quiet, must have had good reasons to do so, Alexander says. He then reads aloud a letter Parmenion had sent to his sons, Nicanor and Philotas, and which Alexander had intercepted. In this letter, Parmenion advised them to look out for themselves, “for thus we shall accomplish what we have planned”. A sentence that had no meaning would have had the conspiracy not been disclosed. Alexander takes his plea a step further by confiding his hitherto personal skepticism about Philotas who had joined Amyntas (Alexander’s uncle who was under age when his father was killed on the battlefield, upon which Philip was chosen as Macedonia’s new king; with Philip’s death he could have claimed the throne) to make an impious plot against his life. He tells his soldiers how these acts have torn him apart, working on their sentiments.

Alexander proceeds by reminding his troops that he had put Philotas in command of his elite cavalry, entrusting his life, his hopes, and his victories to him. He had elected his father, Parmenion, to rule over Media with all its richness, a position that demanded integrity and respect for his king. Now his trust had been broken as he had fallen victim to such a shameful scheme!

We should remember that at this time, Parmenion is in Ecbatana, holding the army’s supply line and guarding the huge treasury reaped from the Persian cities of Susa, Persepolis, and Pasargadae with a number of troops that equaled Alexander’s own manpower. Parmenion enjoyed great prestige while he served under Philip and led Alexander’s left wing in many decisive battles at the head of the foreign cavalry and mercenaries. It is obvious that an uprising or a coup led by Parmenion would have colossal consequences for Alexander!

Philotas is then brought forward with his hands tied behind his back to stand trial before the army. One can imagine the reaction of the Macedonians who had seen this great general having dinner with the king only the night before, standing there as a wretched prisoner. Sensing that the army started to feel sorry for Philotas, General Amyntas held a harsh speech against the culprit, followed by Coenus, who spoke even more vehemently, accusing him of being a traitor to the king, his country, and the army.

The last person to speak was Philotas. Maybe he was dazed by the seriousness of the accusations, maybe he was truly weak after being questioned and/or tortured, and in any case, he burst into tears and fainted. When he was back on his feet, Alexander looked intently at him and reminded him that the Macedonians were about to pass judgment on him, upon which he left the assembly. Philotas is on his own now.

It is clear that Philotas also reaped the fruits of Aristotle’s teaching at Mieza, as his plea is as well constructed as Alexander’s. He starts working on the soldiers’ emotions right away by saying that it is easy to find words when innocent, but difficult for a wretched man as he stands before them in fetters. He cleverly highlights the fact that none of the conspirators has named him, neither Nicomachus nor Cebalinus, but despite that, the king believes him guilty and the leader of the conspiracy. Dymnus, when he confided in Nicomachus, named several men of great importance but left him out – how could that put him in charge?

In the depths of his own despair, Philotas presents his own defense by saying that he can only be found guilty for keeping silent about the matter when it was reported to him. Besides, Alexander pardoned him and gave him his right hand to restore their friendship. What made the king change his mind overnight? He, Philotas, went to bed and was awoken by his arrestors from a sound sleep, not the sleep of someone whose conscience is tormented. After all, the report about the plot was revealed by a young boy who could present no proof or witness of his information, hence he believed that it was a lovers’ quarrel. And, supposing that he was really guilty of conspiracy, why would he have concealed the information for two days when he could easily have killed Cebalinus right away? After speaking with him, he nevertheless had entered the royal tent alone wearing his sword, and yet he put off the deed?

His tone turns when he admits that he does not have the power of divination and pities those who have to live under a man who believes himself to be the son of Zeus – a serious hint towards Alexander’s latest godly descent, which he obviously resents. He recalls the letter that Parmenion had sent to Alexander in Tarsus, warning him that his doctor was ready to poison him with the potion to cure his illness – a warning Alexander ignored. So why would Alexander believe him when he announces the plot reported by Cebalinus? What should I have done, he asks the assembly, when the king both dismisses a warning and accuses me of not warning him?

But the assembled soldiers give vent to their frustration about Philotas' haughty conduct towards them and even accuse him of pretending not to speak or understand their very own Macedonian language. Tempers flare up high at this stage and they shout that the traitor deserves to be torn to pieces. At this crucial moment, Alexander reappears and adjourns the council to the next day.

Again, he meets with his friends, who recommend that Philotas should be stoned to death in compliance with Macedonian law. Maybe that would be too simple, who knows, for Hephaistion, Craterus, and Coenus want to get to the bottom of this affair and wish for a confession by torture. After they set out to execute the torture, Alexander waited for the outcome in his tent till late that night.

As the appropriate instruments are laid out, Philotas admits immediately that he planned the murder, too afraid, probably, to undergo the torture, but Craterus is not impressed. They use fire and whiplashes till Philotas can no longer endure the suffering and concedes to tell everything he knows.

Meanwhile, unrest arose among those Macedonians more or less closely related to Philotas, who feared for their lives as well. The commotion reaches the royal tent, and Alexander makes a proclamation by which he remits the law providing the punishment of those related to the guilty party.

After yet another plea, and to cut a long story short, Philotas confesses to the conspiracy. He even includes his father in the plan. Parmenion, being seventy years old, could not wait too long to take charge, and that is why they decided to promptly carry out the design. By now, the torturers agree that all their questions have been answered, and they return to Alexander, who issues the order for Philotas’ words to be made public the next day in his very presence.

Philotas is put to death, either stoned or speared, together with all those who had been named by Nicomachus. Parmenion had to be eliminated as well, and Alexander writes a letter to three generals in Parmenion’s entourage (Cleander, Sitalces, and Menides) with orders to put him to death.

Well, this is basically Curtius’ (probably dramatized) version of the facts, although it is not entirely shared by Arrian, Diodorus, and Plutarch. Their rendering of the conspiracy and the torture varies, and it is unclear whether Philotas was only guilty of negligence or merely ignored Cebalinus’ information in the hope that the plot would succeed, which would work in his favor. In any case, Curtius gives an excellent assessment of the general mood in the Macedonian camp that remained seriously divided after this.

To remember that this treachery was brought to a good end – at least for Alexander – Alexandria in Drangiana is renamed Alexandria Prophtasia, appropriately meaning “Anticipation” since Alexander anticipated the widespread consequences of the plot and acted before others could attack him.

[Pictures from Oliver Stone's movie Alexander are from Movie Screen Shots and The World of Alexander the Great]

The Philotas Affair – Part I – How the plot was revealed

In 330 BC, when encamped at Phrada (modern Fara in Afghanistan), also called Alexandria-in-Drangiana, Philotas was accused of conspiracy against Alexander. A similar accusation had been brought to Alexander’s attention before, when he was in Egypt, by Antigone, Philotas’ mistress, but at that time, he had refused to believe it. This time, however, there was solid proof, and one of the accusers included Coenus, who was married to Philotas’ sister.

Curtius, as usual, gives by far the most detailed report, which by itself reads like the script for a thriller. The story starts with a certain Dymnus, a man of little importance, who was madly in love with young Nicomachus and anxious to bind him to his person. He lures him into the temple, saying that he has something very important and confidential to share with him. Under the spell of his deep affection, Dymnus demands his lover to pledge under oath to keep silent what he is about to disclose, and Nicomachus, not expecting anything incumbent, complies. Satisfied, Dymnus then tells him that a plot against Alexander has been arranged and will be executed in three days’ time, adding, to give himself more importance, that he shares the plan with some brave and distinguished men. The young man’s reaction, however, is pure horror, and he immediately tells Dymnus that he cannot take part in such treason and cannot be bound by his oath to the gods to keep such a crime secret!

Dymnus is furious, hurt in his love, and fearing betrayal, he begs him to take part in the plot; if he cannot do this, at least he should not betray him, for, after all, he trusted him with his life. As Nicomachus stubbornly continues to express his abhorrence of the crime, Dymnus tries to frighten him by saying that the conspirators would take his life before taking that of their king. To no avail. Dymnus then tries every trick of the trade to convince him. He goes as far as to pull his sword, pointing it to his lover’s throat, then to his own, and in the end forces him to promise his silence as well as his support.

In reality, Nicomachus has not changed his mind; he just pretends to go along, saying that out of love for Dymnus, he could not refuse, and then inquires about the other associates in this highly important matter. Dymnus congratulates him on his decision to join the other conspirators like Demetrius (belonging to Alexander’s bodyguard), Peucolaüs, Nicanor, and also men like Aphobetus, Iolaus, Theoxenus, Archepolis, and Amyntas.

Imagine the load resting on Nicomachus’ shoulders at this point! He simply cannot ignore the information he has been entrusted with and shares it with his brother, Cebalinus. In order not to make Nicomachus suspicious of betrayal by going to Alexander, Cebalinus enters the vestibule of Alexander’s tent, where he waits for one of the king’s friends to appear. It happens to be Philotas, and Cebalinus reveals the plot to him, insisting that he should tell Alexander at once. Philotas remains with Alexander for some time but does not mention the conspiracy. When Cebalinus meets Philotas later that night and inquires if he has done what he requested, Philotas simply states that Alexander had no time to talk with him, and he walks away. The next day, Cebalinus once again is near Alexander’s tent when Philotas is on his way in, and he reminds him of this most serious issue. Philotas answers that he is attending to it, but again does nothing.

At this point, Cebalinus becomes suspicious of Philotas and decides to talk to one of the king’s Pages. He approaches Metron, who is in charge of the armory. Metron instantly understands the urgency and seriousness of the matter and goes to Alexander while he is bathing. Alexander immediately orders Dymnus to be arrested and walks into the armory where Cebalinus had hidden, pending the king’s reaction. Alexander, of course, wants to know all the details, and in particular, when Nicomachus had given him the information. Upon learning that it was two days ago, Alexander puts Cebalinus in fetters, upon which the poor boy shouts that he had informed Philotas without any delay and that it was he who had withheld the news. Accusing Philotas, one of the king’s Companions and trusted friends, was unheard of, and Alexander kept on questioning Nicomachus, who time and again retells the same story.

At this point, Dymnus is to be brought before Alexander. Dymnus, however, as soon as he learned that he was called to Alexander's tent, had wounded himself with his sword, and by the time he stood before his king, his speech already failed him; he swooned and died. This certainly confirmed the man’s guilt.

Philotas, too, was summoned to the royal tent. Imagine the commotion that has risen by now! Alexander confronts him with the words reported to him by Cebalinus, adding that if he had indeed concealed the conspiracy for two days, the man deserved the extreme penalty, but since he insists that he immediately reported the information to him, Philotas, the general, has some explaining to do. Philotas is in no way disturbed by these words and replies that Cebalinus had indeed spoken to him, but that he had not given the matter any credibility and had dismissed it as a quarrel between a lover and his favorite. Yet the suicide of Dymnus proves otherwise.

At this stage, Philotas throws his arms around Alexander, begging him to consider his past deeds rather than finding fault with his silence. It is uncertain at this stage whether Alexander believes him or not; in any case, he offers Philotas his right hand, saying that the information seemed to have been rejected and not concealed. But clearly, Alexander didn’t take the matter as lightly as he made Philotas believe, and shortly afterward, he called a meeting with his friends, of which Philotas was excluded. Nicomachus is brought in, and he confirms the story as reported by his brother before.

Craterus, an important rival of Philotas, reminds the king of the general’s repeated bragging about his own valor and accomplishments and accuses him of arrogance. Taking advantage of this situation, Craterus underscores that Philotas would always be able to plot against him, and Alexander would not always be able to pardon him. The other Companions have no doubt that Philotas would not have blurred evidence of the conspiracy unless he was closely involved. If truly a loyal friend, Philotas would have hastened to his king as soon as he heard about this conspiracy. After all, Philotas had spent the whole day in amusement and allegedly had found no room to place a few words about the life and death of his king. Even if he had not taken Cebalinus seriously, why excuse himself by saying there had been no opportunity to bring the matter to Alexander’s attention?

The charges were clear, and all parties present decided that Philotas should be tortured in order to obtain the names of the conspirators. Alexander dismisses his Companions with instructions to keep silent about this plan. He then issues orders that the army should prepare for a march the next day, keeping everyone in a state of alert. As a masterly strategist and a true poker player, Alexander invites Philotas to a banquet, entertains him, and talks to him familiarly as usual.

That night, when the lights had been put out, Alexander’s trusted friends gathered in his tent. Among them are Hephaistion, Craterus, Coenus, and Erigyius, as well as Perdiccas and Leonnatus. The order is given to those standing on guard at the king’s tent to remain on watch and under arms. The cavalry was already stationed at all the camp’s entrances with instructions to let nobody in or out. With these safety measures in place, a certain Atarrhias is summoned to the royal tent with 300 armed men and men-at-arms. The latest is sent out to arrest the known conspirators, while Atarrhias and his men have orders to apprehend Philotas. With fifty of his bravest soldiers, he breaks into his quarters while the rest of them surround the house to thwart any possible escape. Atarrhias finds Philotas in deep sleep, puts him in chains, and leads him to Alexander.

Sources do not concur on what happens next. It is not certain whether Philotas was tortured or not to extract his confession that he and his father wanted to kill Alexander. 

... to be continued in The Philotas Affair – Part II – His judgment and execution

[Pictures from Oliver Stone's movie Alexander are from Movie Screen Shots]