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Authors: Valerio Massimo Manfredi

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #General

BOOK: Alexander: Child of a Dream
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Two thousand athenians fell in the battle of Chaeronaea and many others were taken prisoner. Among these was the orator Demades who was brought before the King still wearing his armour and bleeding from a wound to his arm. Demosthenes had managed to flee through the passes that led to the south towards Lebadeia and Plataea.

 

But the heaviest losses were inflicted on the Thebans and their Achaean allies at the centre of the battlefield. Alexander’s cavalry, after wiping out the Sacred Band, caught the central troops from behind and forced them onto the phalanx’s barrier of iron spikes, resulting in a massacre.

 

Philip’s rage was directed especially towards those Thebans he felt had betrayed him. He sold the prisoners as slaves and refused to hand over the bodies of their dead for burial. It was Alexander who made him see reason.

 

‘Father, you yourself once told me to show clemency whenever possible,’ he pointed out after the frenzy of the victory had subsided. ‘Even Achilles returned Hector’s body to the old King Priam after his tearful pleas. These men fought like lions and gave their lives for their city. They deserve respect. Tell me what possible advantage there is in treating the dead in this way.’

 

Philip did not reply, but it was clear that his son’s words had had some effect.

 

‘And there’s a prisoner, an Athenian officer out there who wants to speak to you.’

 

‘Not now!’ roared Philip.

 

‘He says that if you refuse to see him he will let himself bleed to death.’

 

‘Fine! That’ll be one less to worry about.’

 

‘As you wish. I’ll take care of it then.’

 

He went out and called for two shieldsmen: ‘Take this man to my tent and call for a surgeon.’

 

The soldiers carried out their orders and the Athenian was laid down on a makeshift bed before being undressed and washed.

 

One of the shieldsmen soon came back to the tent with bad news: ‘Sire, the surgeons are all busy with our soldiers, trying to save the most seriously wounded, but if you issue specific orders they will come.’

 

‘It doesn’t matter,’ replied the Prince. ‘I will take care of it. Bring me a knife, a needle and thread, and heat some water and bring some clean bandages.’ The men looked at him in amazement, the patient even more so. ‘I’m afraid we’ll have to make do,’ Alexander said to him. ‘I can’t let a Macedonian soldier die to save one of the enemy.’

 

Callisthenes came in just then and saw the heir to the throne of Macedon with an apron tied round his waist, washing his hands.

 

‘But what…’

 

‘Let’s keep this to ourselves, shall we? But since you also attended Aristotle’s anatomy classes, you can help me. Wash the wound with wine and vinegar and then get the needle and thread ready … I can’t see for the sweat in my eyes.’

 

Callisthenes got to work briskly and the Prince began by inspecting the wound: ‘Pass me the scissors it’s

 

a ragged cut.’

 

‘Here you are.’

 

‘What’s your name?’ Alexander asked the prisoner.

 

‘Demades.’

 

Callisthenes’ eyes widened. ‘But this is the famous orator,’ he whispered into his friend’s ear. Alexander, however, did not seem the least bit startled by the revelation.

 

Demades could not help but grimace as the make-do surgeon

 

 
cut into his flesh, and then asked for the needle and thread. Alexander held the needle in the flame of the lamp before starting to sew, while Callisthenes held the edges of the wound together.
‘Tell me about Demosthenes,’ the Prince asked in the meantime.
‘He … he is a patriot,’ replied Demades through clenched teeth, ‘but we see things differently.’
‘In what sense exactly? Put your finger here,’ he added, indicating the point, and Callisthenes, his assistant surgeon, obediently put his finger on the thread that now had to be knotted.
‘In the sense …’ the patient started to explain before holding his breath, ‘… in the sense that I was against going to war alongside the Thebans and I said so publicly.’ He let out a deep sigh of relief as Alexander finished tying the knot.
‘It’s true,’ whispered Callisthenes. ‘I have copies of his speeches.’
‘I’ve finished,’ said the Prince. ‘We can bandage it now.’ Then, turning to Callisthenes, ‘Have a real physician see him tomorrow. If the wound should swell up and become infected it’ll have to be drained and it’s best if a real surgeon takes care of that.’
‘How can I thank you?’ asked Demades, lifting himself up on the camp bed.
‘You may thank my teacher, Aristotle, for it was he who taught me these things. But as far as I understand you Athenians did not go out of your way to keep him with you.’
‘Aristotle left because of an internal problem in the Academy … it was nothing to do with the city itself.’
‘Listen. Can the assembled army pass a motion here and now granting you a political position?’
‘Yes … in theory. There are probably more people eligible to vote here than there are in Athens at the moment.’
‘Speak with them then and make sure you are the representative charged with negotiating peace terms with the King.’
‘Are you serious?’ Demades asked in amazement as he got dressed.
‘You may take clean clothes from my chest. As far as the rest is concerned, I’ll speak with my father. Callisthenes will find you somewhere to sleep.’
‘Thank you … I …’ Demades only just had time to stutter these words because Alexander had already left.
He went to his father’s tent and found Philip sitting with Parmenion, Cleitus the Black and some battalion commanders, eating his supper.
‘Hungry?’ the King asked him. ‘There’s some partridge.’
‘There are thousands of them,’ Parmenion explained, ‘they take to the air off Lake Kopais in the morning and then spend the day rooting for food along the riverbanks.’
Alexander took a stool and sat down.
The King had calmed down and seemed to be in a good mood.
‘Well then, what do you make of my lad, Parmenion?’ he said, clapping his hand on his son’s shoulder.
‘Magnificent, Philip he
led that charge better than any experienced member of the Companions could have handled it.’
‘But General, your son, Philotas, also fought with great courage,’ said Alexander.
‘What have you done with that Athenian prisoner?’ asked the King.
‘Do you realize who he is? He’s Demades.’
Philip jumped to his feet. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Ask Callisthenes.’
‘By the gods! Send a surgeon immediately to take care of him; he has always spoken in favour of our policies.’
‘I’ve already stitched him back up, otherwise he’d already be dead. I’ve granted him a certain amount of freedom of movement within the camp. I think he’ll bring you a proposal for a peace plan tomorrow. As I understand it you’d rather avoid a war with Athens.’
‘Yes. To defeat a seafaring city means assuming mastery of

 
the seas and that’s something we are certainly not ready for, as was made painfully clear to me at Perinthus and Byzantium. If you have any suggestions I’ll gladly listen to them and I’ll explain my own ideas to you. Finish your meat, it’s getting cold.’
Back in Athens the survivors of Chaeronaea initially spread nothing but despair. When they recounted the defeat and described the dead and the prisoners, the city was full of much wailing and consternation because many people had no idea whether their loved ones were dead or alive.
Later the atmosphere changed when the terrible realization of what might happen next began to take hold; even sixty-year-olds were called to arms and slaves were promised their freedom if they too agreed to fight for Athens.
Demosthenes, still exhausted and wounded, exhorted the Athenians to fight to the last and proposed that the rural population of Attica should be brought within the city walls. But all this proved to be immaterial because an escorted envoy from Philip reached the city a few days later and asked to be allowed to present a proposal for a peace treaty to a plenary assembly. The representatives of the people were amazed to see that the citizens held prisoner at Chaeronaea had already ratified the proposal and indeed it carried the signature of Demades.
The envoy entered the large semicircle where the Athenians were sitting out in the open under the rays of the springtime sun and, having obtained permission to speak, began: ‘Your fellow citizen Demades, who is still a guest of King Philip, has negotiated for you a treaty that contains conditions I think you will find advantageous.
‘The King is not your enemy, indeed he admires your city and its wonders greatly. It was with deep regret that he was forced to go into battle against you. But he was simply complying with the request made by the god of Delphi.’
The assembly did not react as the orator had expected they
all fell silent, anxious to hear the real conditions of the treaty. The envoy continued.
‘Philip will now relinquish any idea of exploiting his advantage in this situation, he will recognize your possession of all the islands in the Aegean and he will return Oropus, Thespiae and Plataea, cities which your leaders ceded to the Thebans, thereby betraying an age-old friendship.’
Demosthenes, sitting in one of the front rows, near the government representatives, whispered to his nearest neighbour, ‘But don’t you see that this way he’s keeping hold of all our cities on the Straits? The cities he hasn’t named.’
‘It could have been much worse,’ came the reply. ‘Let’s hear what else he has to say.’
‘The King asks neither for compensation nor for a ransom,’ continued the envoy. ‘He will return your prisoners and he will return the remains of your dead so that you may bury them decently. His son, Alexander, will personally take charge of this sorrowful mission.’
The emotional reaction of the assembly to this news convinced Demosthenes that he had no hope left. Philip had touched their deepest feelings and he was intent upon sending the Prince himself to carry out this act of clemency. Nothing was more harrowing for a family than to know that the body of their own son lay unburied on a battlefield, prey to the vultures and the dogs and deprived of any funeral rites.
‘Now we’ll hear what he wants in exchange for all this generosity,’ whispered Demosthenes again.
‘In exchange Philip asks only that the Athenians should become his friends and allies. He will meet all the representatives of the Greeks in Corinth, in autumn, to put an end to the infighting, to establish a lasting peace and to announce a grand plan that has never been attempted before now, a plan which envisages the participation of all the Greek peoples. This means that Athens will have to dissolve its maritime league and enter into the great pan-Hellenic League the
only true league, which

 
Philip is now building. He will put an end to the centuries-old internecine conflicts of the peninsula and will free the Greek cities of Asia from the Persian yoke.
‘I leave you now to decide wisely, Athenians, and when you are ready let me know your answer so that I may refer it to he who has sent me.’
The proposal was approved by a large majority, despite Demosthenes’ passionate speech in which he called on the city to fight to the very end. The assembly, in any case, sought to reassure him of the high esteem in which it held him by making it his duty to pronounce the funeral oration for those who died in battle. The treaty, which already bore Demades’ signature, was countersigned by all the representatives of the government and was sent back to Philip.
As soon as the King heard the news, he sent Alexander to Athens with the convoy of chariots carrying the ashes and the bones of the dead who had already been cremated on the battlefield. The prisoners had identified many of the corpses, and on the basis of their information Eumenes had had the name of the deceased and his family inscribed on each of the small urns.
The unknown soldiers were all grouped together on the last carts, but the doctors had noted the features of the bodies -distinguishing marks, if any, the colour of their hair and their eyes and so on.
As a demonstration of his goodwill, Philip had even allowed the Athenians to bring back some of the weapons in order to facilitate identification of the nameless warriors.
‘I envy you, my son,’ he said to Alexander as he prepared to set off. ‘You are about to see the most beautiful city in the world.”
His companions came to say goodbye.
‘Look after Bucephalas for me,’ the Prince said to Hephaestion. ‘I don’t want to tire him out or make him run any unnecessary risks on such a long journey.’
‘I’ll treat him as if he were a beautiful woman,’ replied his friend. ‘You needn’t worry. I’m only sorry that…’
‘What?’
‘That you haven’t asked me to look after Pancaspe as well’
‘Stop it, you fool!’ Alexander said as he started laughing. Then he mounted a well-built morel which a squire had just brought for him and gave the signal for the departure.
The long convoy started out with much creaking from the wheels of the chariots. The Athenian prisoners came behind on foot, each one carrying a bundle with a few personal effects and the food he had been able to gather. Demades was given a horse in recognition of the role he had played in securing the signing of the peace treaty.
The dead Thebans, however, still lay where they had fallen and for days had been prey to the crows and the vultures while at night the wild dogs and nocturnal birds of prey had been at work. All of this was witnessed by the many mothers who had come from the city and had congregated on the edges of the battlefield, their wailing harrowing and terrible. Others, within the walls of Chaeronaea, carried out strange magical rites through which they sought to invoke the worst possible death for Philip.
But their curses and invocations had had no effect whatsoever the
King had steadfastly denied his enemies any hope of having their dead to bury for the simple reason that he considered them all to be traitors.
In the end, convinced by the insistence of his own friends who were afraid of the ultimate consequences of such a heartless policy, the King acquiesced.
The Thebans left their city bedecked in mourning, preceded by the weeping of the hired mourners, and they dug a large pit in which they placed the remains of their young men who had fallen in battle. Over the tomb they piled earth to form a tumulus, alongside which they later erected a gigantic stone statue of a lion to commemorate the courage of their soldiers.
In the end a peace treaty was signed with the Thebans as

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