Dionysian Frenzy in Macedonia (Part 2 of 2)

In 340 B.C., at the age of sixteen, Alexander became regent in Macedonia while his father besieged the recalcitrant cities—Byzantium and Perinthus. During the time King Philip fought the rebellions, a Thracian tribe revolted, thinking Alexander could not mount a battle against them. In response Alexander acted decisively, organizing troops with the help of General Antipater, one of the most capable nobles, and set out to subdue the tribe. He turned their city into a Macedonian garrison, which he named Alexandropolis in imitation of his father’s Philippolis, the garrison that guarded the gold mines of Mount Pangaeum, not far from Amphipolis.
Alexander became more successful than his father, who had to abandon the siege because of Athens’ help to the two cities. As a means of making up for this foregone booty as well as giving his troops a morale-boost, Philip decided to conquer the Scythians on the Danube. Alexander joined this campaign, in which the Macedonians easily defeated the Scythians and obtained substantial treasure.
On their return to Macedonia, however, the savage Triballians of the northern Balkans disallowed the Macedonians to pass through their territory. In the battle to get through, Philip became seriously injured in the thigh, and the troops lost much of their booty. Alexander, nonetheless, showed his capability as the successor to his father.
In the battle of Chaeronea, Alexander led the charge against Athens and Thebes that eventually surrendered and acknowledged the suzerainty of Macedonia. Alexander decimated the Theban Sacred Band. After the battle, he accompanied the corpses of the thousand Athenian dead back to Athens. For the first time, Alexander took a glimpse of the city, of which he had heard a great deal from his tutor, Aristotle.
King Philip’s conquest of Greece had reached the high point of his relationship with his son. On the battlefield Philip had given his son every opportunity to display his precocious abilities and Alexander had indeed showed his talents—much to the satisfaction of his father.
Though not as tall as his father, who looked impressive because of being tall, dark-haired, and one-eyed as the result of a battle injury, Alexander also cut an imposing figure with a piercing gaze and a prominent bridge to a nose whose sharp verticality gave him a boxer’s pugnacious look.
King Philip really needed a kinsman in a responsible position, for power given to another nobleman detracted from his own independence. Therefore, he believed that Alexander would no doubt grow into his capable successor.
The troubles between them, however, started only now, when peace brought Philip back to the court with all its intrigues.
“Listen, Alex,” said Olympias, “some warlords are now conspiring. You’d better keep an eye, especially, on General Attalus.”
“What’s on his mind?”
“I’m pretty sure, he’s taking over the power from the throne in the future. At least, he’s trying to gain some power through the marriage of his niece.”
“It won’t happen that way.”
“He talked your father into distrusting you.”
“How?”
“He said, you’re the son of a foreign mother.”
“All wives are foreign, if you are foreign.”
“Anyway, General Attalus persuaded your father to take his niece as another wife to let her give birth to a pure Macedonian heir. Eventually, your weak-minded father took his advice.”

Alexander attended the celebration at the party a week after Philip’s marriage to Cleopatra.
In the carefree stag party, everybody seemed to drink like a whale.
General Attalus grew rowdy.

From time to time, he flicked a disparaging glanced at Alexander, who had been putting up with the overconfidence and arrogance of this proud general during the boisterous party.
In the midst of the drunken feast General Attalus proposed a toast that his niece and Philip give Macedonia a legitimate king. Then the general smirked at Alexander as if to look down at an illegitimate son. The young man had just enough and could stand it any more. Alexander stood up and glared at General Attalus, “Do you mean that I’m a bastard?”
The General snickered. In rage, Alexander threw his goblet at the ignorant general. It struck at his massive chest and wetted his chiton with wine. Then in fury Attalus grabbed up the goblet and threw it back.
“Alex! What the hell …” Philip, drunk as the rest, took out his sword and stood up, but tripped down soon afterward. When he sat up, and unsheathed his sword, however, everybody gazed at the king in astonishment—even if he had no intention of hurting his son.
“Alex … you’ve … got to … apologize General Attalus. You hear me?”
Though well-aware of the drunkenness of his father, Alexander faced him like a brave warrior. “What if I don’t?”
“Then … I’ll kill ya!”
“Go ahead if you can.”
“What?” Glaring at his son, King Philip tried to stand up, but again stumbled down after wobbling a few steps.
“So, this is the man who intends to cross into Asia, huh?”
“What?”
“You can’t even cross the room!”
“Alex!” The king then stood up with his remaining strength. When he wobbled after Alexander with an unsheathed sword, the surrounding generals restrained him. With a doting grandfatherly gaze, General Antipater gestured at Alexander to return to his own room.

Seamed by narrow valleys funneling out of forbidding gorges, Epirus appeared like a natural maze, with few open stretches. Slate-colored mountains occasionally reached impressive altitudes.
Alexander and Olympias had immediately fled from Pella. Dorgina and her eleven robust ‘Amazonian’ companions had joined the expedition. Trekking all the way from the capital, the party had reached the Katara Pass the previous afternoon. At the top of the formidable pass, a large hollow arena opened up to the south-west. The rugged road then descended into the bowl, where a small village clung to the slopes of the precipitous cliffs. They had camped by the creek near the village.
This morning, they got up late. After a four-day trip, everybody appeared tired. Disguising themselves as Macedonian guards, the party looked like a squad of soldiers who marched to their newly-assigned garrison. Though feminine and vulnerable in their early twenties, most of the trained girls turned out as tough as Alexander’s soldiers.
Soon the party saw the soaring peak of Mount Mitsikeli. When they reached Lake Pambotis at its foot, however, the Amazons, with a shout of joy, removed all knapsacks and stripped off all the sweaty, dusty clothes, and then took a dip in the green waters like playful nymphs.

Refreshed and rejoiced, one of the girls even boasted her impeccable body line by reclining on a rock by the shore. “Prince, get your clothes off and come over here. You can lie down beside me or, if you like, on top of me.”

The other girls roared at her seduction.
With a frown, Alexander looked away and stood on sentry so that he could give them a warning in case an outnumbered platoon of barbarians might attack or ravish those stark-naked girls.
“Alex, join us.” Squatting in the shallow water, Olympias beckoned her son. “You don’t have to be a sentinel. We’re in Epirus. Nobody will bother us.”
“Yes, they do. I must protect these girls.”
“Don’t worry. They aren’t ordinary women.”
“I know, but they are definitely vulnerable in the buff. I don’t want any trouble.”
“C’mon, Alex. Don’t be shy. It’s nice and cool down here.”
“No thanks, Mother. I’d prefer to stay up here.”
Olympias decided to spend the night by the lake so that they could enjoy bathing. There seemed no more agreeable way of spending the rest of the day than bathing in the cool waters and strolling in the herb-scented paths along the reed-fringed shore, and catching frogs, trout, and crayfish for their meal.
After a rest, some women started preparing for supper. Others pitched their tents. For the first time since they had left Pella, the party enjoyed a sumptuous meal. Sitting around the bonfire, they ate heartily. Wine flew freely. When the night fell, one girl played the flute while another plucked the lyre, and others sang and danced as if in a Dionysian orgy. Because the girls grew into frenzy and some girls even started dancing in the nude, Alexander went back to his tent.
Lighting a lamp, Alexander took out the dog-eared copy of the annotated Iliad from his knapsack. He had read so many times, and could almost recite the epic line by line. He had never got tired of flipping over some pages. Like his father, Alexander had been dreaming of advancing into Asia. Before anything else, he badly wanted to visit Troy and to repose the soul of Achilles—his idol.
After a while, Olympias joined him. Rosy-cheeked, his mother seemed tipsy. To his surprise, Olympias stripped herself naked in a minute.
Alexander sprang up like a dummy in a jack-in-the-box. “Mother, … what … do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m preparing for the night, of course.” His mother took out a tiny flask of scented oil. Putting some on her palms, she started spreading it all over her smooth, milky skin. Nose-to-nose, agape and dumbfounded, Alexander watched the stark-naked woman in her ripe age.

At thirty-nine, Olympias looked ten years younger with her well-rounded breasts, slender waist, broad hips, and voluptuous thighs.
She shocked his eyes as if one of those Amazons showed up in the buff.

Alexander’s pounding heart jumped up to his throat. Suddenly, he felt dizzy.
“Alex, don’t be so shy.” Olympias smiled like a playful girl who teased her reserved sweetheart, well aware of her charm and attractiveness to the eyes of a young man.
“Mother, this is not right.”
“Don’t be silly, Alex. You’re my own son.”
“That’s the reason I’m saying.”
“What’s the matter with you. To me, you’re part of my flesh—like my breast.” Olympias started kneading her full, high breasts with the oily hands. Her large raspberry-like nipples attracted his eyes.
Alexander swallowed hard. “I don’t want to be another Oedipus.”
Olympias smirked with a hint of amusement. “Are you considering me as one of those girls?”
“No! Well … I mean, I shouldn’t watch my own mother in the buff.”
“Why not?”
Alexander gasped for words.
“Are you thinking of having sex with me?”
“Mother! Please—” Alexander almost screamed out. “You are putting me into a lot of troubles lately.”
“Like what?”
“Everything! You scattered the seeds of trouble all over. Somebody told me—you said to Father, I’m not his son. Apparently, General Attalus took advantage of your saying. You hates his marriage to Cleopatra, but actually you started it. It’s all your fault! If you hadn’t said a thing like that, we would be still in Pella in peace.”
“Do you believe that, too?”
“Whether I believe or not, the things turned out that way. Besides, some say, you’re sleeping with one of his bodyguards.”
“Who told you?”
“It doesn’t matter who told me. I’m saying, you’re causing a lot of problems.”
“So, you’re accusing me, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not. I’m just asking you not to cause any more troubles.”
“Alex, do you really believe I’m sleeping with one of those slow-witted bodyguards?”
“I’m not too sure, but they say, you seduced Pausanias. Did you, Mother?”
“What do you think, Alex? Am I still appealing to a young man like him—or you?”

Alexander shyly flicked a sweeping gaze at her evenly-anointed shapely body.
Amused by his timidity, Olympias complacently presented herself to the eyes of the beholder.

“You’d better put something on, Mother. Otherwise, you catch a cold.” Alexander scratched the side of his nose.
“So?” Olympias slid into a sleeping sack at last. “Tell me.”
“Of course, you’re still attractive, but that doesn’t give you a good reason to sleep with Pausanias, does it?” With a sigh of relief, he, too, slid into his sleeping sack, and blew off the light.
The darkness suddenly brought in some easiness.
“Mother, you’ve just overdone it. I’d rather have a modest mother than an Amazon queen.”
“Look at other wives of your father. They’re like concubines. Alex, if you want a great country, you need Amazons like Dorgina. Women could do more.”

The following morning, Olympias and her party hit the rugged road to continue their journey. Around noon, they at last reached Dodona, the capital of Epirus, nestled cozily at the foot of Mount Tomaros. The Dodonian oracle, dedicated to Zeus, had attracted many pilgrims, as one of the oldest in Greece, long before Apollo took up his abode at Delphi. As Delphi gained fame and attracted an increasing number of pilgrims, however, Dodona declined in importance because the pilgrims had a harder time in trekking over to the sacred place in the mountains.
The legend said, Neoptolemus, the son of Achilles, settled in Epirus with Andromache, the widow of Hector, and had since ruled this mountainous country. His son Molossus had established the so-called Mollossian kingdom—a land famous for its dogs, its oxen, and its torrents that snaked through sunless canyons. Alexandro, her older brother, now ruled Epirus.
After washing themselves, Olympias and Alexander met the king in his palace at the acropolis. Already informed by the messenger, King Alexandro had brooded over the political situation between Epirus and Macedonia. Nevertheless, he welcomed his nephew.
“Alex, I’ve heard a lot about you. As I expected a long time ago, you’ve just turned into a fine warrior.”
“Thank you, Uncle. I’m very pleased to meet you.”
“Brother, I’m very sorry, the things just turned out this way.”
“Let’s talk about it later, okay?”
Like an amiable, proud uncle, the king praised his nephew’s numerous victories and his achievement in his learning. After an enjoyable chitchat, Alexander retired to his guest chamber.
Then the King of Epirus and his sister sat closer and discussed the urgent problem.
“Are you ready to advance?”
“No way!” King Alexandro grimaced.
“Why not? We have Alex. He’s a military genius. Many people say, he’s superior to his father in many ways. If you have enough soldiers, Alex and you could probably take over Macedonia.”
“Are you out of mind? This is not definitely the time to face off.”
“Why not?”
“First of all, King Philip is with the rising tide. His soldiers have gone through so many winning battles. Even if I have twice as many soldiers as he has, chances are, we’re going to lose. My soldiers have seldom fought lately.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“Philip and I have been getting along quite well so far. We can make up. Besides, Macedonia doesn’t want any conflict with Epirus. He even sent me a messenger.”
“What did he tell you?”
“He told me, even though he’s divorced you, he has no intention to severe our tie.”
“What do you mean?”
“Philip is thinking of making another tie.”
“Another tie?”
“Yes, marriage.”
“Who is going to marry whom?”
“Your daughter.”
“Cleopatra?”
“That’s right.”
“But you don’t have any suitable groom to match my daughter.”
“Yes, I have.”
Puzzled, Olympias looked into the thoughtful eyes of her brother. “Do you have any other son I don’t know of?”
“No, I don’t have any more sons.”
“Then, who’s going to marry my daughter?”
“Me.”
Dumbfounded, Olympias gawked at Alexandro, who smiled triumphantly.

During the absence of Olympias and Alexander, plans for the invasion of Asia proceeded rapidly.
In the spring of 336 B.C., Philip sent General Parmenio with ten thousand troops to Asia Minor where they had great initial success.

They conquered several cities while the Greek city of Ephesus turned itself spontaneously over to the Macedonians. In the same year Darius III became the Great King of Persia after squalid intrigues and confusion at the court.
Though Olympias and Philip remained irreconcilable, Philip sent another messenger to the king of Epirus, who persuaded his nephew to return to Pella. Eventually, Alexander agreed to make up with his father.
For a while the father and son seemed reconciled. Then General Parmenio sent a messenger from Asia with a fortunate news. Prince Pixodarus of Caria, a province in the south-west of Asia Minor, offered his daughter in marriage, instead of fighting the Macedonians.
This cornerstone of the western Persian Empire had become important for its seaports and access to nearby Ionia. Its ruling family had controlled nearby Aegean islands in their heyday during the 350s B.C. These possessions had turned into key bases for a fleet. Prince Pixodarus also held power over Lycia, the neighboring stretch of coast where he had placed commanders in the coastal cities. This marriage would enable Philip to put the entire southwest corner of Asia Minor under his control.
Alexander learned that his father had tried to arrange a marriage for his half-witted son Arrhidaeus with the daughter of the Carian ruler, who had nominally owed allegiance to the Persian king.
One evening, Alexander’s loyal friends gathered around him in his chamber.
“Alex,” said Nearchus, who would become an admiral later, “you’ve got to do something. Otherwise, Arrhidaeus is gonna take your position as Crown Prince.”
“I doubt.”
“Why is that?” asked Ptolemy, Alexander’s future historian.
“If my father really wants to install my brother as Crown Prince, how come he asked me to come back to Pella in the first place?”
“Simply because,” answered Harpalus, his future treasurer, “The king doesn’t want you to stay in Dodona as a hostage in case he advances into Epirus.”
Alexander gave it a thought. “What do you suggest?”
“You must offer yourself for the marriage.”
“How?”
“Send a messenger to Prince Pixodarus directly.”
“Behind my father’s back?”
Everybody nodded firmly. Thereafter, they sent Phallacres, a famous Greek actor, to the Carian prince to offer Alexander for marriage.
When Philip discovered this treacherous scheme, he flew into a rage and immediately exiled Alexander’s boyhood friends: Ptolemy, Nearchus, and Harpalus.
Philip stomped into Alexander’s chamber and confronted him. “Are you stupid or what?”
“Father, I took it very seriously.”
“Then why didn’t you talk to me?”
“I thought—the sooner, the better.”
“Alex, you really disappointed me. You got the wrong idea.”
“Then why did you choose Arrhidaeus, instead of me?”
“Listen, Alex. Everybody knows, you’re my successor. Your victories of the past battles justify your firm position. Do you think, a daughter from the Carian ruler is good enough for the crown prince of Macedonia?”
“Yes. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
“Son, don’t be stupid. You’re going to be the future king of Macedonia. If you want to marry, your bride should be a daughter of the Persian king—nobody else. Think big, Alex.”
“Well …”
“Look! Some people are talking about the dark clouds between Epirus and Macedonia because of the divorce. Alex, don’t ever get the wrong idea. I had to divorce your mother because she has caused a lot of troubles lately, but I’ve got no intention to sever the tie with your uncle.”
“Is it true my sister is going to marry him?”
“Yes, I have to show those people some proof of alliance with Epirus. Those morons believe, your uncle is going to seek revenge on me because I dumped your mother. I’ve got to get rid of such baloney at court.”
“Did Mother agree on that?”
“I don’t need her agreement on this. Alex, don’t ever do something stupid about this marriage.”

In July 336 B.C. the storm broke. Philip’s youngest wife gave birth to her second child—a boy to whom Philip gave the name Caranus.

To strengthen the bond with Epirus, Philip hurried up the marriage, and reluctantly allowed Olympias to attend the wedding as the bride’s mother.
In the midsummer the ceremony took place in Pella, accompanied by elaborate games and gorgeous sacrifices to the gods. It coincided with the great victory in Asia Minor, and Philip’s own departure seemed imminent.
The day devoted to games began with a dawn procession of the statues of the gods into the stadium. Philip had a statue of himself added to the group, while he followed behind, escorted by his son Alexander and the bridegroom. The bodyguards followed at a distance. Among them strode Pausanias.
King Philip approached the gate of the stadium slowly. Suddenly Pausanias rushed forward. As he ran, Pausanias pulled a short hunting knife from under his ceremonial garb. Reaching Philip, the captain thrust the knife deep into the king’s back with such a fatal force that Philip died instantly while the slayer turned and fled in the melee.
Pausanias eluded his pursuers until, getting on to his waiting horse, he tripped over a vine. Then the rest of the bodyguards fell upon him with javelins, saving him from gruesome torture. They killed him before Pausanias would disclose any information about the other plotters in the regicide.
Alexander, idolized by the army and supported by Olympias, proclaimed as King Alexander III. The ever-loyal General Antipater—the only noble who ranked as high as General Parmenio who fought in Asia Minor—also supported the brave warrior. So did his son-in-law, Alexis. Many generals followed suit. The swift transition occurred before General Parmenio and his Macedonian army in Asia knew of Philip’s death.
To the dignitaries who had come for a wedding and stayed for a funeral, Alexander promised to carry on the projects of his father. For the Macedonians he eliminated taxes, and distributed the booty from the battles and the revenue from the gold mines among his loyal followers. It became an impressive show for a twenty-year-old who might normally languish for most of his life in the shadow of an illustrious father.
For the moment, Alexander had more immediate problems than the Macedonian troops in Asia. Three brothers from Lyncestis, a Macedonian province in the northern hills, reportedly took part in the regicide with Pausanias. Alexander decided to execute the two of them—Heromenes and Arrhabaios—and saved the third, Alexis, because he took a quick action to accept Alexander as king. Being Antipater’s son-in-law seemed no doubt of greater consequence.
The Greeks went wild as soon as they heard the news of the assassination. In Thessaly, the anti-Macedonian party took over the hegemony. Aetolia recalled the exiles whom Philip had banished. Thebes led central Greece in plans to revolt. In Athens, Demosthenes obtained the news of the murder from his secret agent. He immediately changed from his mourning attire for a daughter who had just died and ran to the Assembly with the fortunate news. He did not say outright that Philip had been murdered, but only that he had dreamed of a great stroke of luck for Athens. When the messenger then ran in with the official word of Philip’s death, pandemonium broke loose. The Assembly voted to grant a crown to Philip’s assassin and to offer sacrifices for the deliverance of Athens. The citizens, including Demosthenes, celebrated, festooned in garlands.

General Attalus, who had insulted Alexander at the stag part after Philip’s marriage, heard the news while engaging in the fight, second in command of the Asia Minor expedition.

He corresponded with Demosthenes in Athens and encouraged rebellion. When no uprising followed, Attalus tried to ingratiate himself again with Alexander by forwarding Demosthenes’ treasonous correspondence to Pella. Though he knew that General Attalus remained close to Parmenio as one of his sons-in-law, Alexander grew so suspicious of him that he risked Parmenio’s disloyalty by demanding that the second in command be put to death. Parmenio agreed with Alexander to avert a possible turmoil at court.
When King Perdikkas III, an older brother of Philip’s, died, his small son took over the throne as the child king Amyntas IV. With the support of the army, however, Philip soon took it over, instead of becoming his regent. When Amyntas grew into youth, he married Kynna, Philip’s daughter by Audata-Eurydike. A few years older than Alexander, Amyntas had remained part of the Pella court throughout his childhood. Some mutinous elements at court now rallied round the unambitious young man. Therefore, Alexander decided to put Amyntas to death.
With the persuasion of his advisers, Alexander gave an order to kill Caranus, the baby boy of his father.
Meanwhile, Olympias personally murdered Philip’s youngest wife and her infant daughter. She then dragged them across the top of a burning cauldron.
“Mother, why did you kill those two?” Stunned by the merciless killing, Alexander deplored his mother’s murder.
“The same reason you killed Cranus.”
“No, definitely not. You executed the unnecessary killing for your personal reason—jealousy.”
“Personal or not, they had to go.”
“Why?”
“Alex, don’t be so lenient! We must remove all the possible causes for future revolts. As king, you’d better take a decisive action once and for all. Understand?”
The advisers all agreed with Olympias. Therefore, Alexander also gave an order to exterminate the male members of Cleopatra’s family to prevent any reprisals on the royal family.

Olympias now badly wanted Alexander to produce an heir. So she started to find a suitable match for his son, but, for some reason, he didn’t go to bed with a girl of his mother’s choice. How come? If you’re interested in the story, please read my article: Alexander the Great & his Courtesans.