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]

The Battle of Issus, where Alexander and Darius faced each other for the first time

Ever since his victory at the Granicus, Alexander knew that sooner or later he would have to face the bulk of the Persian army again and, more importantly, King Darius in person. In the Summer of 333 BC, when he had successfully crossed the Taurus Mountains, news reached him that Darius had left Babylon with a huge force of combatants. His army was in slow motion, not only because of its size but also because Darius took his entire retinue with him and an elaborate baggage train. His mother, Queen Sisygambis, his wife and sister Stateira, and their three children accompanied him, together with their servants, ladies from the harem, advisers, physicians, soothsayers, eunuchs, cooks, and all those that were part of Persian pomp and circumstance. Darius halted in the plain near Sochi, just east of the Amanus Mountains, which run parallel to Turkey’s coastline at the point where it makes a right-angle turn to the south. Here, he put his army in position and waited for Alexander, but Alexander did not show up.

Unknown to Darius, Alexander was delayed at Tarsus, struck with fever, and incapable of moving for several weeks. After he recovered, he set out to clean up the hill tribes of Cilicia and spent time celebrating his victory over Halicarnassus, where he had left Ptolemy the year before to finish the siege. It was October by the time Alexander marched to Magarsus, the most southerly point between the Seyhan and the Ceyhan Rivers, near modern Karataş, which served as the port for Mallus (possibly near today’s Kızıltahta). It was here that he heard the news that Darius had taken position on the other side of the Amanus Mountains.

The situation now was serious and called for immediate action. Alexander set his army in motion to meet his Persian enemy, for this was the battle he had waited for all his life.

Darius’ choice of location was excellent, but whether he listened to ill advice from his entourage or became impatient when Alexander did not show up, he decided to move his army in order to confront Alexander. He sent most of his treasury and luxurious paraphernalia of his baggage train to Damascus for safety, together with the gear and womenfolk of his officers. Darius’ own mother, wife, and children stayed with him as he started moving north along the eastern flanks of the mountains, which he crossed at the Amanus Pass or Amanian Gate. Alexander, meanwhile, had moved south along the coast and occupied Issus. By a strange combination of circumstances, both armies passed each other unknowingly in the opposite direction and on the opposite side of the mountain range. Alexander had already crossed the pass called the Pillars of Jonah south of Issus when he was informed that Darius was in his back, dangerously threatening his line of supply. Darius had indeed reached Alexander’s baggage train at Issus, where the king had left the sick and those unfit for service. It was the mutilated survivors who brought the bad news to Alexander. Yet, he still could not believe the report and ordered some of his companions to ascertain the situation and sail back to Issus. Soon enough, they returned to confirm that the Persian army had set up camp along the Pinarus River (modern Payas River), south of Issus.

It is hard to estimate the size of Darius’ army as figures cannot be trusted and differ widely from one source to the other. Some say that the Persians had twice as many soldiers as Alexander – it could well be. Whatever the truth, we can be certain that the Persians outnumbered the Macedonians, but on the narrow flat between the mountains and the sea, this did not really play to their advantage. Darius had set up his forces along the opposite bank of the river, occupying the entire width between the Amanus Mountains and the sea. At his center, Darius had posted his Greek mercenaries, to his right on the seaside, he placed his cavalry since that flat terrain was most suitable for horses, and at his left, he positioned a smaller detachment of cavalry preceded by slingers and javelin-throwers.

As soon as the news reached Alexander, he immediately jumped into action. First, his men should take a rest and eat. At the same time, he sent a small party to hold the Pillars of Jonah over which he would have to retrace his steps. By nightfall, the signal was given to start the march, and when the Macedonians reached the pass around midnight, they were allowed another rest. At first daylight, they resumed their march. At its narrowest part, the pass only allowed four men or two horses to pass abreast, but Alexander had his plan all worked out. First to cross the defile were the infantry, and as soon as they emerged from the pass and reached more open terrain, he instructed them to gradually extend their front line but to keep it coherent at all times. As they reached more open ground, he put every detachment in place between the hills on his right and the sea on his left. The cavalry was last to come across, and in the first stage, Alexander split them up between his far left and far right flanks. All through the operation, he kept riding back and forth among his troops, speaking encouraging words, holding them back here, and moving them closer together there. Both Arrian and Curtius spend many lines describing Alexander’s speeches and personal addresses to his commanders and even to individuals of lower ranks, making sure to touch every man’s pride and to get their mind ready for the battle to come.

The confrontation took place on either the 5^th or the 6^th of November, when daylight is very short. So even with an early start, it would have taken Alexander most of the day to cross the pass. By late afternoon, his army arrived at the Pinarus, ready to fight. What a march this had been! Still, Alexander was in no hurry – the Persians were not going anywhere – and Arrian even says that at times his advance was slow and deliberate, “giving the impression that time was on his side”. He must have tantalized Darius’ nerves! What a masterly control of the situation!

It transpires that Alexander’s approach was a cool-blooded one, taking his time to spread out and to position his troops to face the enemy. He kept on moving forward in line and at a deliberate pace. His Macedonian phalanx at the center was placed opposite the Greek mercenaries in Persian service. Parmenion was in overall command of the left flank at the head of the Greek Allied Cavalry and had to face the heavy Persian cavalry, which vastly outnumbered his own forces. He had received clear instructions to keep as close as possible to the waterfront in order to oppose an enemy move that could outflank him. Craterus at the head of his infantry was to stay in touch with him, as were all the other battalions further down the line towards Alexander, who occupied the right flank with his Cavalry Companions, as usual. On the bluffs above Alexander were two detachments of Persian light infantry. Alexander attacked first, sending two companies to clear that outcrop that endangered his right back. The enemy didn’t put up much resistance and fled, leaving Alexander with one worry less. Behind the central phalanx, Alexander kept his own mercenary troops on standby, just as Darius had a line of infantry reserves in the back of his attacking line.

Through all these maneuvers, Alexander kept a close eye on his opponent across the river. He noticed that Darius moved his cavalry away from the hills where, because of the broken terrain, they were not of much use. They were instead sent to reinforce his attack on the Macedonian left at the seaside. Till then, Alexander had kept his Thessalian Cavalry with him, but noticing the Persian move, he sent them with all speed to support Parmenion with clear instructions to conceal their move while passing behind the massed Macedonian infantry.

It is not easy to reconcile the accounts of this battle as told by the ancient historians, but it seems that Darius had a sound plan by making the most of his cavalry in the hope of encircling Alexander’s forces and pinning him down against the mountains. It makes you wonder whether Alexander had considered this possibility or predicted this to happen, yet the fact remains that his Thessalian cavalry arrived in time to take the Persians by surprise and to charge their cavalry back across the river. It was a fierce fight, and a bloody one besides that, but in the end, it proved that Alexander outmaneuvered Darius.

While the action on his left flank was unfolding, Alexander, facing the weak Persian left, rushed forward to attack. Arrian tells us that he charged “on the double” across the river, but, contrary to the general assumption, this does not mean that he was riding his horse but rather leading his hypaspists across (a matter of translation, I am told). Anyone who stood upriver as I did a few years ago will notice the broken terrain, which does not allow a cavalry charge anyway. It is indeed more likely that Alexander sent a detachment of his light cavalry supported by light infantry to hold the enemy at bay while he and his Companions forded the river and were able to form up in their wedge formation. With these elite troops, Alexander charged the small Persian forces that opposed him and eliminated them. 

Alexander now reached the crucial point of his plan: with the support of his Companions, he turned left straight into the Persian center where Darius stood. This is the same maneuver he used at Granicus a year earlier and that he will repeat at Gaugamela and on the Hydaspes!

The Macedonian center was slower to move across the river, which, although rather narrow at their position, was very steep, with banks reaching up to 2-4 meters, not the ideal terrain to attack while keeping in formation. The phalanx was pinned down for a while, and a gap opened between them and Alexander’s cavalry, exposing their vulnerable side where the Persian attackers were out of reach of the sarissai. Yet by chance or thanks to his exceptional good timing, Alexander’s flanking move to the left coincided perfectly with the arrival of his hypaspists under Nicanor and the heavy infantry under Perdiccas and Coenus. As soon as these formations were on the Persian side of the river, Alexander’s remaining elite infantry followed suit, and the Greek mercenaries fighting for the Persian king and the rest of the Persian contingents were squeezed in the two-pronged penetration Alexander had thus created between him and Parmenion’s cavalry at the other end of this line. The bloodiest fights may have occurred right here, where you had to kill or at least incapacitate the man in front of you to get to the next. Every soldier, it seems, was aiming at the Persian King, who in turn was fiercely defended by his own generals.

It is estimated that the battle took no more than an hour, one hour and a half max. It is certain that the shock of the Macedonian joint attack from across the Pinarus was too much for the Persians, who quickly started to retreat. But the retreat was severely hampered by the second line of light-armed soldiers positioned behind the turning Persians, who, unaware of what was happening up front, were pushing forward to the battle scene. One can only imagine the onslaught and chaos that occurred when these two forces collided, with the Macedonians pushing the fleeing troops in front of them. This is where most of the Persians were killed.

Some sources claim that Darius fled right from the onset of the fight, but it is more probable that he started fleeing only after his wounded and frightened horses began to panic with the piles of corpses piling up around them. The description of a fleeing Darius, leaving behind his chariot as well as his mantle and his weapons, is the picture on the well-known mosaic found at the House of the Faun in Pompeii. As soon as the entire Persian army was routed, Alexander set in his pursuit but was cut short when darkness fell.

Had he captured Darius, Alexander would have conquered Persia there and then, and the war would have been over. History would have taken a completely different turn, but as the situation was now, another battle was inevitable. Unknown to either king, this was going to be fought on the plains of Gaugamela two years later.

[Click here for more pictures of Issus and the battlefield along the Pinarus River]

Miletus, Alexander’s first siege in Asia

While Alexander was still in Ephesos, the Persian governor of Miletus, Hegisistratus, made his appearance at the court. He came in peace, offering the surrender of the city. At that time, Miletus was the largest Greek city on the eastern shore of the Aegean Sea.

Its origins go back to Mycenaean times in the 11th century BC. In 670 BC, Miletus started colonizing the coast of the Black Sea, the Mediterranean, and the Sea of Marmara. Just like Priene and the other cities belonging to the Ionic League, Miletus suffered from repeated Persian invasions and occupations, the most memorable of which happened when Cyrus defeated Croesus of Lydia, causing the fall of Miletus. In 499 BC, however, this city led the Ionian Revolt against the Persians, punishing Miletus and destroying the mighty city, but it soon recovered.

So, by the time Alexander arrived in 334 BC, Miletus was in Persia's hands only because its excellent harbor was their main base, ideally situated to control the other cities of Asia Minor or launch a counter-attack on mainland Greece. Miletus was surrounded on three sides by the sea and had strong fortifications on the landward side. It is not surprising that Alexander welcomed Hegisistratus’ offer.

In this context, Alexander marched towards Miletus with only a small number of troops in his entourage. Yet, at the same time, news reached Hegisistratus that a 400 warships strong fleet of the Persians was only three days away. This gave the governor new hope and a good reason to resist the Macedonian king, who found the city gates closed upon arrival.

Meanwhile, Alexander’s own fleet of 160 ships commanded by Nicanor (brother of Parmenion) had anchored on the island of Lade, just off Miletus. The island was fortified with 4,000 men strong garrison ready to make it difficult for the Persians to use the harbor for their operations. Consequently, the Persian fleet was forced to land off Mycale, some 15 km south of Miletus. The situation at sea seemed locked for the time being. Alexander decided to begin besieging Miletus from the land side, confident that the Persians were in no position to help or reinforce the city from the sea.

For the time being, Alexander made himself comfortable in nearby Priene and directed the siege operations from there. Here, he was approached by an unexpected embassy led by Glaucippus, a well-respected citizen of Miletus. His proposal was that Miletus would become a free city, meaning that both Persians and Macedonians could use its harbor at will. If he had accepted, Alexander would allow the vital port of Miletus open to the Persians, who had access to the entire coast of Asia Minor.

Early next morning, Alexander moved his siege engines forward, probably including his stone-throwing catapults. Artillery was used to chase the defenders from the walls, after which the battering rams and scaling ladders were brought in. The wall crumbled soon enough, and the city was quickly taken. The Greek fleet, which had positioned itself as a ring around the city, successfully prevented the Persians from giving Miletus any assistance.

Panic broke out among the citizens of Miletus, who immediately offered to surrender to Alexander. Alexander probably accepted their plea, but he slaughtered nearly all the Greek mercenaries who had defended the city from the Persians. Only about 300 of these mercenaries escaped, using their shields as makeshift rafts to peddle to safety on one of the many rocky islets off Miletus. Of course, Alexander was not going to leave it at that and mounted scaling ladders to the front of his triremes to be used by his men to land on the islet. On the other hand, the mercenaries did not ask for mercy but were prepared to fight to the death. At this point, Alexander showed clemency, and in the end, they were included in his army.

With Miletus taken, Alexander could now concentrate on eliminating the threat of the Persian fleet. He did not want to get involved in a naval battle because his fleet was much smaller, and the men on board were not trained in maritime warfare. Instead, he sent Philotas by land to Mycale, preventing the Persians from landing and getting new provisions and fresh water from the River Maeander. The fleet withdrew, seeking protection on the island of Samos instead. Eventually, the Persian fleet moved south to the safety of Halicarnassus, which was still in Persian hands.

This being settled, Alexander elected a democratic leader, canceled all taxes, and boosted commerce – in short, he started a new period of prosperity for Miletus. This prosperity ended with the arrival of the Romans in 133 BC, who imposed high taxes now that the city was part of their Provincia Asia. By the third century AD, Miletus’ decline set in as its harbors silted up and marshes were formed.

Today the antique city is to be found 10 km inland, and in springtime, the once so busy port is covered by extensive marshlands filled with reed and blooming irises. In a way, this helps to imagine what this vast harbor must have looked like. The old rotunda was part of the Harbor Monument built in honor of Pompey in 31 BC, still surrounded by water. This Monument must have been at least 7.5 meters high and may have carried a big iron pot on top, part of which is now on display at the Pergamon Museum in Berlin. Maybe, after all, it was a beacon? Although the marshes are omnipresent in springtime, the land is dry in autumn, meaning that the visitor gets quite a different view of Miletus in either season.

In historical literature, Miletus is described as less impressive than Priene, but I think that is somewhat cliché, for it is just different.

The most striking building is the theater sitting on the hilltop, commanding the entire city of Miletus. It is one of the most splendid constructions one can imagine, not only because of the many tiers of seats that have been so well preserved but also because of the entrance gates and the near-intact vaulted corridors. This theater clearly illustrates the high level of architecture reached by the Romans; the very concept of theater is highly efficient. Easy walking steps take the visitor to the cool entrails with fascinating views over the surrounding landscape and the interior of the theater itself. The first theater was evidently Greek, built in the 4th century BC, and counted approximately 5,300 seats; the Romans extended it in the 2nd century AD to hold 25,000 people. The façade is impressive enough, 140 meters long and 30 meters high. It is hard to imagine this theater's full impact since the upper tiers' stones have been taken to build the Byzantine church on top, leaving a merely seating space for 15,000 people.

From up here, one can easily see the layout of the entire city. Following the marshy water line from the harbor, I find the Delphinium, the open-air Temple of Apollo Delphinius, the protector of the seafarers and the ships. The four remaining columns of the Ionic Stoa next to it quietly reflect their image in the still waters covering the North Agora. Sitting in the shadow of these columns, I discover an ancient graffiti of a fish and the Greek word IΧΘΥΣ, both symbols that were used by early Christians – what a rewarding moment!

The remains of the adjacent Hellenistic Gymnasium are relatively poor, and the colossal Nymphaeum from the 2nd century AD flanking it on the other side requires lots of imagination to picture it. Across from the Nymphaeum are the remains of the Bouleuterion, built between 175 and 164 BC. But here, as elsewhere, the parts belonging to the Hellenistic period blend in very harmoniously with those added later by the Romans.

Further south, past the South Agora, the Baths of Faustina, Marcus Aurelius’ wife, are visible; rough brick arches and walls don’t do justice to the once so great building whose ornamental statues are now in the Archaeological Museum of Istanbul. These baths date from 43 AD, and I’m not surprised to hear that they served as a role model for the Turkish baths, the hammam. This South Agora belonging to the 2nd century AD measures an impressive 196x164 meters and must have been dwarfing. The southern entrance gate to this Agora has been entirely moved and reconstructed at the Pergamon Museum in Berlin (unfortunately, it was under restoration when I visited the museum).

It certainly is worthwhile to visit Miletus in spring and again in fall when the water level has receded, and the Agoras show their large slabs of marble flooring. At that time, the outline of the different buildings was much more recognizable, which truly helped to get a comprehensive view of the city.

    

Between the Baths of Faustina and the South Agora lies the Temple of Serapis from the 3rd century AD. Not much is left except the re-erected pediment showing a relief of the god Helios Serapis wearing a crown of sun rays. The rectangular buildings seen on the right-hand side are warehouses.

That brings me to the most exciting location in Miletus, the Sacred Road that led all the way to Didyma, the city renowned for its oracle. The first road must go back to the 6th century BC at least, but it has been improved and embellished over the centuries. In 100 and 101 AD, Emperor Trajan, for instance, raised the road level and made the necessary repairs. From the early days onward, this Sacred Road was lined with statues of the Branchidae (priests and priestesses attached to the temple of Didyma); crouching lions and sphinxes; votive fountains; and even monumental tombs and sarcophagi belonging to important persons. None of these features are to be seen anymore since all were moved to the British Museum in London, the Archaeological Museum in Istanbul, or the local Museum of Miletus. This 16.5-kilometer-long road was entirely paved and had a width varying between 5 and 7 meters. Both in Miletus and in Didyma, it is still pretty easy to locate a sizable stretch of this Sacred Road; just have a close look. I was so lucky to be put on the right track by Peter Sommer during my travel on his tour "In the Footsteps of Alexander the Great" - a most rewarding experience! 

I have not found any indication about the road used by Alexander on his way from Miletus to Didyma, but I like to believe that it is rather evident that he would have followed this Sacred Road. For me, this is another place where Alexander’s presence is still tangible. 

[Click here for more pictures of Miletus]

The many wives of Philip II of Macedonia

In antiquity, women had no say at all. They had absolutely no rights and were treated as common goods, to be sold or bought, negotiated, or given in marriage at will. I always have dreams of living in antiquity, but definitely not as a woman!

But here I am confronted with Philip II of Macedonia, the womanizer – or that is how history likes to present him. I’m still fascinated by Ian Worthington’s book, presently reading the chapter about Philip’s Marriages as Policy. It starts with Philip’s wedding plans with Eurydice, previously called Cleopatra. I didn’t know that Cleopatra's father and brother had died and that her guardian was Attalus (a Macedonian nobleman), who adopted the girl as his niece. She was thus an adoptive niece and not a true relative, although from pure Macedonian blood. And then there is the plausible fact that this marriage of Philip with Eurydice, for once, was not a political move, but one of true love – at least as far as Philip is concerned, of course.

The only source to mention all of Philip’s wives and the reason for the marriages is fragments from a biography written in the 3rd century BC by a certain Satyrus, a philosopher from Aristotle’s school, which was quoted much later by Athenaeus, a writer who lived in the 2nd century AD. According to Worthington, the list/sequence is not entirely correct, but generally speaking, all of Philip’s marriages can be tied to his wars, and Worthington feels this should be the correct order. The names and sequence given by Satyrus are as follows:

- a)Audata (2), an Illyrian, who gave him a daughter Cynane;

- b) Phila of Elimea (1), sister of Derdas and Machatas, meant to secure control over Amphaxitis;

- c) Nicesipolis (5) of Pherae (when he wanted to appropriate Thessaly), by whom he fathered a daughter Thessalonike; and

- d) Philinna of Larisa (3) (also while he wanted to appropriate Thessaly), who gave birth to Arrhidaeus;

- e) Olympias (4) served to acquire the kingdom of the Molossians (Epirus), the mother of Alexander;

- f) Cleopatra (7), sister of Hippostratus and niece of Attalus, with whom Philip had fallen in love and who bore him a daughter, Europa.

Yet, this list is missing Meda of the Getae tribe, wife number (6). The figure between parentheses corresponds to the chronology that Ian Worthington (see: Philip II of Macedonia) feels is correct based on Philip’s military campaigns.

After a good twenty years of ruling and fighting, Philip managed to bring peace and unity to Greece, and he is getting ready to cross to Asia. Worthington’s theory is that Philip wanted to have one or more successors to secure the Macedonian kingship before leaving. The simple-minded Arrhidaeus is of no use, and there is too much at stake to rely only on Alexander – even if he leaves him behind in Macedonia to look after his interests and to keep a close eye on the newly signed Corinthian League. So much could go wrong while he is away!

Aside from Olympias, little or nothing is known about the other wives. They supposedly all lived at the Royal Palace of Pella, probably each in their own quarters to avoid possible (and probable) conflicts and quarreling with one another. Nicesipolis seems to have died shortly after giving birth to her daughter, and as far as the other wives are concerned, your guess is as good as mine. Justin, however, tells us that Philip had many children, of whom some died in battle and others by accident or of natural causes, but, strangely, we have so little information about them – hardly a name. As to Philip’s marriage with Eurydice, who was much younger than he, Worthington assumes that the other women may no longer be able to produce a healthy heir, or were simply too old already. And yes, let’s not forget that Eurydice was a full-blood Macedonian! We all know how Alexander reacted to this wedding!

The story becomes even more interesting when I learn that Attalus, just to be closer to King Philip, decides to adopt Eurydice as his own daughter just before the wedding takes place. To have the King as father-in-law makes him much more important, doesn’t it?

When it comes to marriages, they were a high-stakes game in those days! Not only was Attalus himself married to a daughter of Parmenion, but so was Coenus, another of Philip’s generals (Parmenion’s three sons, Nicanor, Philotas, and Hector, all fought later on in Alexander’s army). Attalus and Parmenion left together at the head of the shock troops that Philip sent to Asia ahead of his own planned invasion. All these events lead us to believe that Philip pulled the strings of an entire network, arranging intermarriages among his generals. In fact, it was a whole clique, of which Alexander was unfortunately excluded – to his greatest sorrow, I dare say. Although he obviously was recognized as the official heir to the Macedonian throne – probably so since he was fourteen and Aristotle was brought to Macedonia and certainly since he carried the seal of Macedonia at sixteen while his father was fighting on the eastern front; and again later on when he successfully led his cavalry against the Theban Sacred Band at Chaeronea – he had no place in Philip’s closest entourage of which he was excluded. This may have been reason enough for Olympias and Alexander to consider murdering Philip…?

A lot of stuff to think about! So much intrigue at the court! Enough for Louis XIV to find some inspiration here, and Henry VIII with his six wives could be looked at mildly, although Philip never divorced any of his wives or chopped their heads off. What an incredible mess!

As a side note, the huge and extravagant wedding party in Susa comes to my mind, which Alexander arranged in 324 BC for about one hundred of his generals and friends to marry girls from the widespread Persian aristocracy. The idea was not exactly a new one, was it?