Another aspect of Alexander’s personality?

Life is full of surprises and Alexander’s life is no exception. Our best sources are extant books by Arrian, Diodorus, Curtius, Plutarch, and Justin, but contemporary documents are far more difficult to find (see: Eyewitness accounts of Alexander's life). Alexander’s Royal Journals carefully kept by Callisthenes and Eumenes have not survived, except for some rare fragments whose origins cannot be verified with certainty.

Browsing through Robinson’s book, The History of Alexander the Great and the Ephemerides of Alexander’s Expedition, I was intrigued by the few lines that survived Ephippus’ writing. 

Ephippus of Olynthus was a historian and contemporary of Alexander. It is unclear whether this man is the same as Ephippus of Chalcis, mentioned by Arrian as one of the superintendents Alexander installed in Egypt. The reason to link both names is that the city of Olynthus is part of Chalcis. Otherwise, our Ephippus may well have lived at the king’s court or shortly after his death. 

He is known as the author of a lost pamphlet “On the death (or funeral) of Alexander and Hephaistion,” as mentioned by Athenaeus of Naucratis, who lived about the end of the 2^nd/beginning of the 3^rd century AD. The document held an account of the burial of Hephaistion and Alexander as well as of the king’s death. 

Robinson is quoting Athenaeus in several separate issues, shedding a different light on Alexander than what other, usually Greek, sources tell us. 

According to Ephippus, Alexander spent one hundred minas on a dinner with his friends, i.e., sixty or seventy of them. It seems the author is reacting to some critics about Alexander’s expenses compared to those of the Persian king, who spent four hundred talents for his 15,000 invites. Converting the currencies, however, both expenditures come to the same amount per capita.

Another observation made by Ephippus is that the Macedonians never understood how to drink in moderation, but drank a lot of wine at the beginning of a feast. The case of Proteas of Macedonia, who was a sturdy guy, is highlighted because he drank a great deal all his life. Alexander, Ephippus said, once ordered a six-quart cup of wine, and after a drink, toasted Proteas, thereby extending a challenge to him. Proteas took the cup, sang praises to his king, and drank the rest of the wine under the wide applause of those present. A little later, Proteas ordered another such cup, toasted the king, and took a drink. Alexander then (accepting the challenge) took it but could not hold it, falling back on his cushion and dropping the cup from his hands. The king fell ill and died. 

This scene inspired Oliver Stone in his Alexander movie during a scene played in India. However, this is not how the king died, and the text puts serious question marks behind the assumption that Ephippus lived at Alexander's court at the time of his death. The truth about Alexander’s death, for me, lies elsewhere as I discussed on previous occasions (see: A personal approach to the cause of death for Alexander).

Regarding the luxury of Alexander, Ephippus tells us that the king had a golden throne, and couches with silver feet “on which he used to sit and transact business with his companions”. These couches are known from the Susa wedding party, but the link is not made in this text. 

Ephippus continues by stating that Alexander also wore “sacred vestments”, such as the purple robe, cloven sandals, and horns of Ammon as if he were a god. At times, he would imitate Artemis, wearing her dress while driving his chariot. Alexander also had a Persian robe and displayed the bow and javelin of the goddess above his shoulder. Sometimes, he dressed as Hermes, and sitting with his friends, he wore the god’s sandals and the petasus, holding the caduceus in his hand. In everyday use, he would appear wearing a purple riding cloak and a purple tunic with white stripes, and the Macedonian causia holding the royal diadem. Referring to Heracles, Alexander would wear a lion’s skin and carry the god’s club. 

To my own astonishment, Ephippus also says that Alexander used to have the floor sprinkled with perfumes and fragrant wine, while incense and myrrh were burnt in his presence. If this is true, I presume it would happen only while the king resided in one of the Persian palaces? The bystanders are said to remain silent out of fear of his violence, “with no regard for human life.” 

Athenaeus further quotes Ephippus, saying that Alexander arranged a festival for Dionysus at Ecbatana. He does not tell us when this sacrifice occurred but I would assume it was in 324 BC, maybe around the death of Hephaistion. 

The local satrap Satrabates had invited all the troops (just try to picture the scene!) for his lavish feast, and many speeches of praise and flattery were made to impress Alexander. As in Samarkand, some of these praises turned into insolence. However, with the king’s complicity one of his armorers totally went overboard by having the herald announce that he, Gorgus, would shower the son of Ammon with 3,000 gold coins; and whenever Alexander would besiege Athens, he would add 10,000 full suits of armor and as many catapults and other missiles needed for the war. 

Such words clearly illustrate how preposterous and absurd these flatteries of Alexander were! Freedom of speech? 

Shifting through Ephippus' lines, it is difficult and even impossible to determine what is correct and what is not. As always, opinions are divided. Ephippus’ version of the facts is examined in detail by Antony Spawforth in his article The Pamphleteer Ephippus, King Alexander and the Persian Royal Hunt.

Polygyros in Chalcidice

Polygyros in Chalcidice is in the news since its Archaeological Museum has reopened after being closed for twelve years to upgrade it to today's standards. 

Chalcidice is the three-fingered peninsula just east of Thessaloniki in Northern Greece, famous for its exotic beaches and natural landscapes. It is a popular vacation destination for people from Balkan countries, Austria, and Germany. 

Polygyros is situated at the peninsula's center, with easy access to notorious antique sites like Olynthus, Potidea, and Stagira. It is also close to the narrow where King Xerxes I of Persia dug a canal across the most easterly finger (Mount Athos Peninsula) during the Second Persian War in 480 BC (see: Stagira, the Birthplace of Aristotle). 

I vividly remember visiting the Museum of Polygyros when I toured around Chalcidice. I was determined to see the arrowheads from Olynthus (see: Olynthus and its houses), with their unique inscription ΦΙΛΙΠΠO (Philippou), meaning from Philip. It had taken Philip of Macedonia nearly two years to conquer Olynthus, and his army apparently had quite a sense of humor. The siege ended in 348 BC, after which Philip razed the city to the ground. 

Another treasure at the museum is the surviving part of Philip's treaty with the Chalcideans. Alarmed by Philip's policy after he occupied Amphipolis in 357 BC, the Chalcidean allies and the Olynthians concluded a treaty with Philip against Athens, who had refused an earlier proposition. To seal their agreement on the treaty's terms, the two parties solemnly swore by Zeus, Gaia, Helios, and Poseidon. 

Three copies of this treaty were made, and the Chalcideans would display theirs at the Temple of Artemis in Olynthus, and Philip would do the same in the Temple of Zeus in Dion. They jointly would exhibit a third copy in Delphi after having it ratified by the gods. 

Strolling further through this small museum, I discovered several artifacts worth my attention. There was, for instance, a terracotta Niké from Sane, 6^th century BC, a lion spout from the Temple of Ammon-Zeus in Kallithea, 5^th century BC, and a piece of cornice from an archaic sanctuary in Stagira, 6^th century BC. Last but not least, an exciting collection of silver and copper coins that was unearthed in Stagira, mainly carrying effigies of Macedonian kings. There were also coins from other cities like Akanthos (modern Ierissos), Sermyle, Skione, and Ouranopolis on the Chalcidice, and from more distant Amphipolis, Pella, Thessaloniki, Corinth, etc. 

These treasures may be dwarfed in the museum that has been enlarged to accommodate an extensive donation of more than one thousand artifacts. The generous benefactor is Iraklis Lambropoulos, who donated the collection his father, Ioannis, had gathered in the 1930s. In fact, he gave it to the Greek State, provided it would be displayed at the Archaeological Museum of Polygyros. 

Today's visitor will see finding from excavations carried out throughout Chalcidice dating from the Palaeolithic to the Archaic, Classic, Hellenistic, and Roman eras. Special attention is drawn to an unfinished kouros, which may have escaped my attention or is entirely new. Noteworthy is also a marble head of Dionysos from Aphytos, 4^th century BC, two marble grave statues from the Heroon of Stratoni, 1^st century BC, and the artifacts unearthed in Olynthus and its cemetery. 

It is obvious that I should visit this museum the next time I am in Chalcidice.

The rich history of olive oil

Most of us believe that the olive tree originated in Greece from where it spread over the entire Mediterranean. It thus may come as a surprise to learn that the oldest ones were found in ancient Israel around 5,000 BC. The olive oil was exported to Greece and Egypt until Crete and Cyprus started to produce their own, and eventually the production reached mainland Greece. The Greek and Phoenician colonists, in turn, introduced the olive tree to Italy, Iberia, and North Africa. In the wake of Alexander’s conquests and the subsequent Roman occupations, the olive tree became familiar in those lands, boosting warm summers and little rainfall. 

Olive trees obviously were most famous for their oil. The Greeks believed that the earlier they pressed the olives, the finer the quality of the oil was as they were still green. However, if they let them ripen longer till they were black, they would produce more oil. Then and now, the best quality oil came from the first pressing. 

Generally, the olives were crushed underfoot – a process that survived till far into the 20^th century. Several examples of these “presses” have survived, such as those found at Mesembria in Eastern Greece. A large slab or a terracotta lid on an earthen pot was perforated with holes, and the crusher would press the fruit by trampling the olives with his feet. The pulp was collected in a basin or jar underneath the lid and was then filtered. 

The earliest presses consisted of a large round millstone, usually pulled by a donkey. Those stones would roll over the olives poured into a circular container. The resulting pulp was then filtered through stacked baskets and pressed with a heavy rock placed on top. A good example has been found in Olynthus. Although the process may sound rather primitive, the end result was pretty satisfactory. 

It is not rare to find olive trees amongst fruit trees, and the field owners would let some sheep graze the groves to keep them free of grass and weeds. Moreover, the residue of the oil pressing process could be used as feed for the pigs. 

The demand for olive oil grew with the Roman Empire's expansion, and eventually, Constantinople became one of the leading importers.  Also, vineyards and olive farms arose in Syria and Cilicia, and they reached the peak of their capacity in the 3^rd-5^th century AD. In any case, the principal producers were located in the regions of Attica in Greece, Italy, Baetica in Spain, Cyrenaica in Libya, Venafrum in Italy, and the island of Samos. To meet the high demand for oil, the Romans developed screw presses which were more performing to crush the olives. In those days, it is believed that oil production reached such a high level that we had to wait till the 19th century to see it improved. 

Olive oil was and remains an essential ingredient in Mediterranean cuisine. However, many other implementations were known, such as fuel for the lamps or a component to make perfumes. Another application was to cleanse the body of the Greek and Roman athletes from dirt and sweat using a strigil. 

The most popular way to store and transport the oil was the common amphora, which came in all shapes and forms depending on their country of origin, the manufacturer and the merchant. 

Beyond the success story of the olive oil, the tree acquired a sacred significance when the olive branch became a sign of peace and a crown for the winners at the ancient Olympic Games. 

The olive branch was very favorite in Classical Athens, where the tree was considered a gift from Athena. The sacred tree stood on the Acropolis close to the Erechtheion and has been replaced with a new version in modern times. Pilgrims also carried olive branches on their way to the oracle at the Temple of Apollo in Delphi. 

This all means that the importance of the olive tree reached far beyond oil extraction and usage.

Finding Cassope in Epirus

Epirus is not often in the news and most people cannot even locate it on a map. That is not really surprising for the country as such existed only in antiquity and today it is split between Greece and Albania. Yet it was the country where Queen Olympias, Alexander’s mother, was born, and as such it is worth mentioning.

Recently Epirus has been in the news with the well-preserved remains of Orraon or Horraon, in north-western Greece. Today it is the turn of Cassope, which overlooks the Ambracian Gulf on the slopes of the Zalongo Mountains. Amazingly, Cassope is one of the best examples of a city built according to the Hippodamian Plan in Greece and could easily compete with Olynthus.

Cassope was founded in the 4^th century BC but flourished one century later as testified by the many public buildings that we can still find there today. The most striking remains include those of the Cyclopean walls, the Agora, the Bouleuterion, and the Theater, as well as the Prytaneion (meeting place for the officials of the city). The city was not to enjoy a long life for it was destroyed by the invading Romans in 168-167 BC and disappeared from history in 31 BC when the remaining population was moved to nearby Nicopolis, just like what happened in Orraon.

Today, Cassope is making headlines because a crowdfunding campaign has been launched in order to restore the city’s ancient theater that could seat at least 6,000 people. The target is set at 80,000 Euros and the purpose is to make this theater fit to be used again for modern events. Additional amounts may go to the restoration of the Bouleuterion and the Stadion of Cassope. 

[Picture of the theater is from the Greek Reporter]

The Hippodamian plan, not so Greek after all

Where does an idea originate? Who is the first to “invent” this or that concept? In our modern world, we often hear that the true inventor is not the one who claims the invention to be his, either because the initial creator did not have the means to promote his idea or because he simply didn’t protect it with a copyright.

In antiquity, copyright did not exist, of course, and ideas traveled back and forth in the baggage of the merchants or in the minds of the craftsmen sold as slaves or moved from their homeland for whatever reason.

The grid plan of city building is largely attributed to Hippodamus of Miletus, a Greek mathematician, meteorologist, philosopher, and physician from the 5^th century BC, who also was known as a town planner. He planned the building of many cities around the Mediterranean, the first of which could be the harbor of Piraeus. He also was involved in the reconstruction of Miletus after the Persian destruction, to be followed by the construction of cities like Olynthus and Pella in Greece. His ideal city would be inhabited by 10,000 male citizens, which would correspond to a total of 50,000 people including women, children, and slaves. It would typically have a large central area that soon became the agora, surrounded by neighborhoods of 240 m2 blocks of houses with an upper floor and separated by a wall, all facing south.

Digging a little further into history, it turns out the layout of Babylon was equally following the same grid plan with right-angle streets and the city must have looked very familiar to Alexander when he arrived there in 331 BC. Although Babylon is much older, the city was rebuilt by the Assyrians who made it the capital of their Neo-Babylonian Empire between 609 and 539 BC. King Nebuchadnezzar II, who reigned from 605 to 562 BC, added the famous ziggurat and the Ishtar Gate, one of the eight entries to the city. The Hanging Gardens, which counted among the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, were also constructed by him. Based on the available descriptions of Babylon, the grid plan was already known in Asia over a century before Hippodamus claimed his “invention”.

Yet, there is more to the ancestry of the so-called ideal Greek city layout. We have to go back 4,500 years in time and all the way to the Indus Valley where cities like Mohenjo-Daro and Harappa were founded using the very same layout. These cities had a central agora, large public baths, a large central well, and many small wells serving individual houses or a cluster of houses; the sewage was led to drains running under the main streets and many houses had their own bathroom. Both cities were large settlements belonging to the Indus Valley Civilization and located on the banks of the now dried-up Ghaggar-Hakra River, west of the Indus River.

With the coming of Islam and the general decline of the Middle Ages, we in the West lost this marvelously well-organized city planning till it was revived in the 20^th century all over the globe, from Asia to the Americas. Pending whatever discoveries will be made in the future, for now, Hippodamus’ “invention” is just some two thousand years older than generally accepted.

[Picture of Mohenjo-Daro from Assignment Point]

The other side of Demosthenes

The friends of my friends are my friends, the saying goes. This implies that the enemies of my friends are my enemies. This automatically applies to Demosthenes since he was not a friend of Alexander’s and consequently not a friend of mine (see: Philip vs. Demosthenes, an ongoing business). Yet I keep encountering Demosthenes in many museums, even in the most unexpected corners. From Athens, Rome, Naples, and Florence, to Tirana, Copenhagen, Harvard, Malibu, and New York; Antalya, Cyrene, and Cologne to the Louvre; from the British Museum to the Hermitage, and many more that do not immediately spring to mind.

Demosthenes is known in history as a prominent statesman and orator of ancient Athens. Born in 384 BC, he delivered his first judicial plea at the age of twenty to secure his inheritance, and by the time he was thirty, he made his first public political speech. In those days, the power of Athens was waning, and Demosthenes was most determined to restore the city’s supremacy. Athens was still a democracy where people had the final say in all matters through the Assembly, which would address the issues and vote by a show of hands. Another essential component was the Boule or Council, which would set the agenda of the Assembly and serve as its advisor by meeting daily. Several men used their rhetorical skills to address the people, among which we find Demosthenes. His greatest adversary, however, was to become King Philip of Macedonia, Alexander’s father.

During the Third Sacred War, which lasted from 356 to 346 BC (see: End of the Third Sacred War and Peace with Athens), the Greeks allowed Philip to raise a vast number of soldiers, including forces from Thessaly or other allies. His enemies had underestimated his power, and by the time this war ended, they could no longer stop him.

Frictions started as early as 351 BC, at least when Demosthenes warned the Athenians about the threat of Philip’s expansion policy in the north. Demosthenes wrote his first open letter to the Macedonian king, the first of his so-called  Philippics. This word has become proverbial since it still today applies to any fiery speech aimed to condemn the person in question (in this case, Philip).

Demosthenes became highly influential in Athens’ decision to support Olynthus, their ally, against Philip. He wrote an extensive speech for each individual call for help, known as the three Olynthiacs. These were all delivered in 349 BC, the first one calling the Athenians to organize an expedition and send it on its way, the second one complaining that Athens did not budge, and the third one being aimed at Philip, calling him a barbarian and warning his fellow-citizens that the Macedonian king would quickly seize more and more of their colonies. In his last Olynthiac, Demosthenes pled for a military intervention to rescue the Olynthians and called for a large naval and military force to destroy Philip’s territory. The orator didn’t convince his public until it was too late.

It is important to note that Demosthenes (and probably most Athenians) did not realize that the days of Athens’ polis system were counted. It was clear that Philip could make his decisions and act upon them immediately, while the Athenian system was slow, meaning that by the time they reached a conclusion, the entire context had changed. Philip wanted a treaty of peace and an alliance in which he and the Athenians were equals, something that did not sink in with the Athenians. In any case, in early April 346 BC, an embassy of ten men was sent to Pella to discuss ‘peace and the common interests of Athens and Philip (cf. Demosthenes). This would be the first of four embassies.

This story is very well told by Mary Renault in her book Fire from Heaven, featuring young Alexander. Ten envoys traveled to Pella when Alexander was about ten years old. Among them were great men like Philocrates, Nausicles, Demosthenes, and Aeschines. Each had prepared his speech on the proposed alliance and peace. They had decided to speak in order of age, the youngest last, and this happened to be Demosthenes after Aeschines, who tells us that he began “in a voice dead with fright, and after a brief narration of earlier events suddenly fell silent and was at a loss for words, … Seeing the state he was in, Philip encouraged him to take heart and not to suppose that he had suffered a complete catastrophe. … But Demosthenes … was now unable to recover; he tried once more to speak, and the same thing happened.” What an appearance for such an orator! Having listened graciously to every ambassador, Philip summarized his idea: a bilateral agreement between him and his allies on one side and Athens and their allies on the other.

Demosthenes was terribly frustrated by his flop at the Macedonian court, making a fool of himself in the presence of both Philip and Alexander. This frustration soon turned to anger and even hatred towards his first audience during such an important mission! He must have resented both kings simply because they had witnessed how helpless he had been!

When the embassy left, Philip sent Antipater, Parmenion, and Eurylochus to Athens to repeat his peace terms and receive Athens’ consent in return. The news was buzzing in Athens’ Assembly, which initially was inclined to accept Philip’s proposal. Still, Demosthenes had to give his own twist to the story as usual and persuaded the Assembly to go for a Common Peace in which every state was free to join. Of course, Antipater refused this when he was called in the next day, for those were not his king’s terms. Ultimately, the Athenians and their allies swore their oaths to peace and alliance with Macedonia – not a happy day for Demosthenes.

Yet Demosthenes was stubborn – or should we say determined? In 345 BC, he did all he could to sabotage the treaty with Philip, while Aeschines, on the other hand, tried by all means to keep it alive. As expected, Demosthenes had done his utmost to convince the Athenians that the peace treaty with Philip was worthless, using every trick in the book to manipulate his audience and distort Philip’s words. As a result, by 342/341 BC, the famous peace treaty collapsed entirely.

Meanwhile, as Philip was called to intervene in the Chersonese’s conflict with neighboring Cardia, he wrote many letters of complaint to Athens as they had violated their mutual peace treaty by attacking his allies and pirating the Macedonian merchant ships. Demosthenes, of course, took it personally, and his speeches ‘On the Chersonese’ and his next Philippic were wildly applauded and successful in Athens. The Athenians even went so far as to request support from the Persian King, who gave the ambassadors large sums of money, some of which eventually found its way into Demosthenes’ pocket. Philip was no fool and seized the Athenian corn fleet. Despite failing to secure the shipping route, Demosthenes was crowned for his services at the Theatre of Dionysus during the festival of 340 BC. The world of politics was as strange in antiquity as it is today!

Thebes was a constant headache, siding with Athens or Philip as they saw fit. In early 339 BC, they seized Nicaea at the entrance of the Pass of Thermopylae. By so doing, they blocked Philip’s access road to central Greece, not for long, though, for Philip immediately marched around Thermopylae, scaring the hell out of the Thebans and the Athenians. The situation escalated, eventually leading to the Battle of Chaeronea in August 338 BC. Demosthenes acted again and convinced the Athenians to join him in an alliance against Philip. It was one of his greatest diplomatic triumphs, although it came at a high cost, for there were many demands that Thebes required in exchange.

Demosthenes participated in the Battle of Chaeronea alongside his fellow Athenians. Still, as we know, Philip defeated them (with young Alexander in his left wing against the Theban Band!). Once the fight was over, Demosthenes barely escaped, and his glamorous orator career was over.

The next time Demosthenes comes to the foreground again is evidently after Philip’s death when he is said to have celebrated the king’s assassination. Aeschines tells us that at that time, Demosthenes was in the middle of a mourning ceremony for the death of his daughter. When he heard the news of Philip’s murder, he interrupted his mourning and instead put a garland on his head to make thank offerings to the gods – indeed, not the proper thing to do!

Despite such disrespectful behavior, the Athenians still admired Demosthenes and the orator Ctesiphon even suggested honoring his colleague for his services by presenting him with a golden crown! Lengthy debates followed and dragged on for at least six years since we know that in 330 BC, Aeschines prosecuted this same Ctesiphon for legal irregularities implying Demosthenes. The latter wrote his own defense, known to be his most brilliant speech, ‘On the Crown’ that inspired every statesman ever since. He successfully defended Ctesiphon and exploited the ruling feelings of frustrated patriotism, arguing that all he ever had done was for the honor of Athens and to prove his loyalty to his city.

While Alexander took care of the Thracian and Illyrian uprisings that erupted after his father’s death, Demosthenes spread the news that the young king and his army had been slaughtered. Thebes and Athens took their chances, and with money provided by the Persian King Darius, a new rebellion was financed (Demosthenes apparently received about 300 talents!). As soon as the news reached Alexander, he force-marched his army south and razed Thebes to the ground. He did not attack Athens but demanded that all the politicians openly against Macedonia be exiled, with Demosthenes on top of his list.  This never materialized, mainly because Alexander treated Athens with a privileged reverence.

But this is still not the end of Demosthenes’ grudge, for in 324 BC, he was only too happy to give refuge to the defecting Harpalos, one of Alexander’s companions who was in charge of the king’s treasury. The Athenian Assembly, following Demosthenes' advice, had decided not to allow him to enter the city primarily out of fear of Alexander’s possible reprisal since Harpalos clearly was an insurgent. Harpalos was taken in custody, and his treasure (well over 700 talents) was confiscated and entrusted to a special committee presided over by Demosthenes. Once the money was counted, the committee found only half the sum as declared by Harpalos. They decided not to make this fact public for the time being. However, when Harpalus escaped, they discovered that Demosthenes had mishandled twenty talents. During the trial that ensued, it transpired that there was a much larger deficit than these twenty talents and that Demosthenes had been bribed by Harpalos. Yet it remains unclear how much money Demosthenes had manipulated and for what purpose it was used. In the end, he was fined but refused to pay. For this reason, he was sent to prison but escaped in a manner not unlike Harpalos. From then onward, he lived in exile, first at Troezen and later at Aegina.

Even after Alexander died in 323 BC, Demosthenes could not resist urging the Athenians to eliminate Macedonian supremacy. He returned to Athens and mingled in the Lamian War, from which Antipater (still regent at Pella) appeared victorious. Finally, Antipater had had enough and demanded Demosthenes be surrendered to him. The Athenian Assembly, in fact, condemned the city’s anti-Macedonian agitators to death, and that included Demosthenes. The orator escaped and found refuge at a sanctuary on the island of Poros, where Antipater eventually tracked him down. Feeling totally cornered, Demosthenes took his own life using poison. He was 62 years old.

Years later, and for reasons beyond logical comprehension, Athens erected a statue in honor of their able orator, a tradition that has apparently been perpetrated over many centuries – hence the many statues of Demosthenes we still find in the many museums today.

Revealing Byllis in ancient Illyria

Before my trip to Albania in search of Illyrian remains (see: A closer look at Illyria), I had never heard of Byllis, for even on the internet, the information is pretty scant and vague. Yet the site of Byllis is one of those where you feel at home and where every ruin is exactly as it should be – a very strange awareness!

The location of Byllis has nothing to envy any antique city and certainly not any Greek or Roman city situated at the border between Illyria and Epirus. Had I studied the life and conquests of Pyrrhus of Epirus more closely (which I’ll do pretty soon), I would inevitably have come to this remarkable city, but at this stage, it is a blank page. The origins of Byllis are still obscure, but according to one theory, it may well have been founded by this very King Pyrrhus, who is still held in high esteem today. Another theory, confirmed by numismatics, pretends, however, that the city was built by Myrmidons returning from the Trojan War.

Byllis is perched high on top of a hill, some 520 meters above sea level, overlooking the Vjosa River and definitely occupying a strong strategic position. The city is surrounded by sturdy Hellenistic walls over a distance of more than two kilometers, 3.5 meters thick, and reaching a height of eight to nine meters; it is interrupted by six fortified entrance gates. No less than four inscriptions testify to the reconstruction by the Byzantine engineer Victorinus, who worked upon instructions of Emperor Justinian (end of 5th-early 6th century AD).  Enough of this wall has survived to underscore the sense of security the inhabitants must have felt. To me, it looks like an eagle’s nest overlooking and commanding the entire valley below.

It is, however, very difficult to label Byllis as Illyrian since the vehicular language was Greek (although most people were bilingual) and all the institutions, officials, fortifications, and city planning were clearly Greek also. The ancient road to Apollonia ran right through Byllis, connecting the city with Macedonia at one end and with Antigonea in Epirus on the other side. Buildings like the stadium and theater, for instance, are pure Hellenistic.

I first walk through so-called storage rooms, but it is unclear why they were built here and who could profit from this storage area. Huge earthen jars and pots, now in shards, remind me of Minoan pottery and were definitely well-secured by the maze of thick-walled rooms.

Pretty soon, I arrive at the recognizable Forum – no doubt built on top of the Hellenistic Agora - surrounded by an L-shaped Stoa, two stories high. The earliest agora has been dated to the second quarter of the 3rd century BC, and the 11.4 meters-wide Stoa ran over a total length of 144 meters: the eastern wing (partially cut out of the rock) was 37 meters long and the southern wing 73 meters. The supporting columns were of Doric order, with hexagonal columns on the ground floor, while Ionic columns on the upper floor supported the roof. The set-up of this Stoa is inspired by the one at Apollonia (see: Along the Via Egnatia: Apollonia). Later, the Byzantines built their basilicas inside and in between these remains, meaning that one has to be alert when looking at stones and walls, but the typical Byzantine crosses on column capitals and altar slabs are very helpful.

Comfortably nestled against the hillside, most of the theater has survived, although it has been used as a quarry by the Byzantines.  The original Greek theater was built in the middle of the 3rd century BC and counted 40 tiers, providing seating for as many as 7,500 spectators, which, based on the size of Byllis, means that visitors from neighboring towns attended the performances. It is said to resemble the theater of Dodona in neighboring Epirus, but I am not in a position to compare. Clearly, this theater has been “updated” by the Romans, who added the skena of which only the foundations remain. A corner of the seating area has been reconstructed to give a better feel of the building, and it is interesting to look around for the many details of decorations for the walls, seats, and the trimmings of the skena. I find it striking that the VIP seats are still present around the orchestra in Greek fashion, meaning that this theater was never adapted to be used for animal fights, as the Romans generally loved to organize. The view from up here is, as always, breathtaking!

Turning away from the steep edge on which the theater stands, are the remains of the arsenal, also from the 3rd century BC, and reconstructed during the 1st century AD using the so-called opus reticulatum technique (square diamond-shaped tufa blocks positioned with their corners downwards). It lies about three meters below the adjacent prytaneion (sacred meeting place) and measures 18.2x6.2 meters. This prytaneion, dedicated to Artemis, in turn, is 20 meters long by 6 meters wide and may well be one of the earliest buildings in the Agora.

Byllis also had a stadium from the end of the third century BC, one of the strangest constructions I have ever seen. Only one side of this stadium has been preserved. From the original length of 190 meters, the bottom seating stairs have survived over 134 meters. Near the theater, we can find as many as 19 steps still in place, but overall, there are no more than three or four. But what makes this track so unique is that it runs alongside a huge public water cistern of 51 meters and 4.2 meters wide. This means that this vaulted cistern with a capacity of about 1,200 m3 was constructed underneath the stadium itself. The water was collected from the roofs of the Stoa and from the stairs on the south side of the stadium. In Byzantine times, Emperor Justinian built his baths right next to this cistern, and the facilities were used till around 550 AD.

Remarkably, some remains of private houses have been excavated as well, both Hellenistic and Roman, which I think is rather unusual. Hellenistic houses are rare, and I’m glad to find a clear layout for one of them. It dates from the third century BC and measures 30m x 25m. It is built around a central courtyard of approximately 10m x 10m surrounded by colonnades behind which we find the various rooms; typically, it had its own well (see also: Olynthus and its houses).

All in all, I find it strange that neither here at Byllis nor at any of the other ancient cities in the area (Apollonia, Brundisium, Buthrotum, Dyrrhachium) so little remains from the Macedonian occupation of Alexander and his father, Philip II, before him. Obviously, neither king was there to build a city as their only purpose was to submit the Illyrians as a whole, but since it was the Greeks who colonized this region in the first place, it is awkward to find only sporadic remains of that period – unless the Romans have thoroughly destroyed the buildings that existed previously in those settlements.

[Click here to see all pictures of Byllis]