by Daisy Dunn
III. Alexander Visits the Temple of Ammon
After these transactions, Alexander was seized by an ardent desire to visit Ammon in Libya, partly in order to consult the god, because the oracle of Ammon was said to be exact in its information, and Perseus and Heracles were said to have consulted it, the former when he was despatched by Polydectes against the Gorgons, and the latter, when he visited Antaeus in Libya and Busiris in Egypt. Alexander was also partly urged by a desire of emulating Perseus and Heracles, from both of whom he traced his descent. He also deduced his pedigree from Ammon, just as the legends traced that of Heracles and Perseus to Zeus. Accordingly he made the expedition to Ammon with the design of learning his own origin more certainly, or at least that he might be able to say that he had learned it. According to Aristobulus, he advanced along the seashore to Paraetonium through a country which was a desert, but not destitute of water, a distance of about 1,600 stades. Thence he turned into the interior, where the oracle of Ammon was located. The route is desert, and most of it is sand and destitute of water. But there was a copious supply of rain for Alexander, a thing which was attributed to the influence of the deity; as was also the following occurrence. Whenever a south wind blows in that district, it heaps up the sand upon the route far and wide, rendering the tracks of the road invisible, so that it is impossible to discover where one ought to direct one’s course in the sand, just as if one were at sea; for there are no landmarks along the road, neither mountain anywhere, nor tree, nor permanent hill standing erect, by which travellers might be able to form a conjecture of the right course, as sailors do by the stars. Consequently, Alexander’s army lost the way, and even the guides were in doubt about the course to take. Ptolemy, son of Lagus, says that two serpents went in front of the army, uttering a voice, and Alexander ordered the guides to follow them, trusting in the divine portent. He says too that they showed the way to the oracle and back again. But Aristobulus, whose account is generally admitted as correct, says that two ravens flew in front of the army, and that these acted as Alexander’s guides. I am able to assert with confidence that some divine assistance was afforded him, for probability also coincides with the supposition; but the discrepancies in the details of the various narratives have deprived the story of certainty.
IV. The Oasis of Ammon
The place where the temple of Ammon is located is entirely surrounded by a desert of far-stretching sand, which is destitute of water. The fertile spot in the midst of this desert is not extensive; for where it stretches into its greater expanse, it is only about forty stades broad. It is full of cultivated trees, olives and palms; and it is the only place in those parts which is refreshed with dew. A spring also rises from it, quite unlike all the other springs which issue from the earth. For at midday the water is cold to the taste, and still more so to the touch, as cold as cold can be. But when the sun has sunk into the west, it gets warmer, and from the evening it keeps on growing warmer until midnight, when it reaches the warmest point. After midnight it goes on getting gradually colder; at daybreak it is already cold; but at midday it reaches the coldest point. Every day it undergoes these alternate changes in regular succession. In this place also natural salt is procured by digging, and certain of the priests of Ammon convey quantities of it into Egypt. For whenever they set out for Egypt they put it into little boxes plaited out of palm, and carry it as a present to the king, or some other great man. The grains of this salt are large, some of them being even longer than three fingers’ breadth; and it is clear like crystal. The Egyptians and others who are respectful to the deity use this salt in their sacrifices, as it is clearer than that which is procured from the sea. Alexander then was struck with wonder at the place, and consulted the oracle of the god. Having heard what was agreeable to his wishes, as he himself said, he set out on the journey back to Egypt by the same route, according to the statement of Aristobulus; but according to that of Ptolemy, son of Lagus, he took another road, leading straight to Memphis.
THE DEATH OF ALEXANDER
The Alexander Romance
Pseudo-Callisthenes
Translated by Albert Mugrdich Wolohojian, 1969
The following story derives from one in a series of fictional biographies of Alexander the Great composed in antiquity. Fancifully attributed to Alexander’s court historian, Callisthenes, The Alexander Romance was passed down in several versions over many centuries, but the Armenian, on which this translation is based, is believed to be particularly close to the lost Greek original. Alexander is described in the story not as the son of Philip II of Macedon and his wife Olympias, but as the son of Olympias and the ram god Ammon (see previous story). Alexander is presented as strong and heroic but prone to violent outbursts. He has campaigned against the ‘barbarians’, subdued Persia, travelled to India and arrived in Babylon, where this portion of the story is set. The Chaldeans – local astrologers – are summoned to interpret a peculiar omen. Alexander’s mother writes to him complaining of her ill-treatment by Antipater, the regent of Macedonia, prompting Alexander to send his general Krateros to investigate. Antipater’s response is to forge a plot against Alexander.
When one of the local women gave birth to a child, the upper part of its body, as far as the navel, was completely human and according to nature, but the lower extremities were those of a wild beast. And its general appearance was like that of Scylla except that it differed in the kinds of animals and in the great number of them. For there were the shapes of leopards and lions, wolves and wild boars and dogs. And these forms moved, and each was clearly recognizable to all. And the child was dead and his body blue. And immediately upon giving birth to the above-mentioned baby, the woman put it in the fold of her robe and hid it. And she came to the palace of Alexander, and told the chamberlain to announce her to the king, “for I have something of importance to show and tell him.” And he happened to be resting in his room at midday. And when he awoke and heard from the chamberlain about the woman who had come, he ordered that she be brought in. And when she entered, the king ordered those who were there to leave. And when they had gone out, she uncovered and showed him the marvel that had been begotten, saying that she herself had given birth to it. When Alexander saw it, he was filled with wonder and great amazement. And he called together the magi and the Chaldean sign-readers and ordered them to make a reading concerning it, promising them either death or harm if they did not tell the truth. And they were famous and widely reputed and the most learned of the Chaldeans. But the one who was more able in his art than all the rest happened not to be there. Those who were present said that Alexander was the greatest of men and the terror of his enemies and that he held sway over land and sea. And they said that the mighty and terrible monsters placed beneath the human body meant this: that he is to rule the mightiest men and that no one shall be mightier than he. And after they had explained how it was, they left him and went away. And after them, the other Chaldean returned from his trip and came to the king. And upon seeing the state of the omen, he gave a great outcry and rent his clothing and was greatly troubled and saddened at the transformation that was to befall the great king. And when the king saw that the man was so smitten by the happenings, he was greatly frightened; and he ordered him to explain frankly what the omen looked like. And he said this to him: “King, hereafter, you are no longer among the living; rather your body has left its mortal state. For such is the meaning of the marvelous omen.” And Alexander asked him about these words. And the omen solver answered and said: “O bravest of all men, you are the human body, and the wild animal forms are the soldiers who are with you. If the human part of the body were alive and moving, as are the animals beneath it, you would have been destined to rule all men. But it is this very part that is dead; and the beasts are alive. So just as it has left its living state, so have you too departed to those who are no more. For example, the animals that are bound to the human body have no kind consideration toward man. In the same way, do those who surround you love you. And the
re will be many upheavals in the world when you depart; and those about you will fall out with one another and will bloodily slaughter one another.” The philosopher spoke thus and left. And the Chaldean thought it best to burn the child.
When Alexander heard this, he was touched to the very heart and saddened. He said: “Aramazd, you have brought the fraudulent game to an end for me. So if such is your desire, take me, this mortal man, to you also.” And this is what he meant: that Dionysos, when the evil deeds done him by those under his rule were revealed, was judged to be one of the gods. So, too, Heracles, since he had distinguished himself to the whole world, was considered in the same way, for his deeds, to be a companion of all the gods. And his mother, Olympias, wrote many times to him about Antipater, saying that he had deeply humiliated and spurned and dishonored her because she was Alexander’s mother; and that Antipater was still doing as he pleased and was writing slanderous accusations about her. Because Olympias was once again complaining, Alexander wanted to cross to Epirus, for he knew how to put an end to Antipater’s hostility to his mother. And he sent forth and summoned Antipater to him from Macedon by sending Krateros. And since Antipater was aware of Alexander’s cleverness, he plotted the death of the world conqueror to be administered by the soldiers, for he was afraid that some evil might befall himself. For he had heard and he bore in mind the fact that Alexander had grown very proud as a result of the successes that had befallen him. And he sent out and brought the gentian drug whose power he knew was very deadly. And he put it in the hoof of a mule and he boiled it in order to be able to keep the strength of the drug alive. For no other dish, be it of copper or of clay, could support the strength of the drug, but was broken by it. And he put it in an iron box, and gave it to Kasandros with instructions to discuss with Iollas, his brother, the administration of the drug.
And when Kasandros arrived in Babylon, he found Alexander making sacrifices and receiving foreigners. He spoke with Iollas who was Alexander’s chief cupbearer. And it so happened that a few days earlier Alexander had hit him on the head with a club for some misdemeanor. Thus, since the boy was prone to anger, he gladly listened to the suggestion of committing the crime. And he took as his helper Mandios, a Thessalonian, who was a friend of Alexander and his own lover. And this fellow considered it a criminal injustice that his Iollas had received a caning. So, of his own will and desire, he agreed that they would give him the poison to drink.
Meanwhile, Alexander was enjoying himself with his close friends and the Dionysian artists. For many had come to Babylon to crown Alexander ceremoniously and to take part personally in the ceremony because of the notable glories of the very happy king.
And then when he got up and wanted to go to rest, Medios came to him and beseeched him to come to his friends, telling him, “Your important friends are all gathered together and are awaiting you.” He said this, and Alexander was persuaded by Medios’ cunning. He went to the party.
And twenty men were gathered there: Perdikkas, Meleadros, Pichon, Leonatos, Kasandros, Pokestes, Ptlomeos, Lysimachos, Philip, Olkias, Eumenes, Philip the doctor, Nearchos the Crete, Heraclides, Europpeos, Ariston, Pharsalios, Philip who had mechanical skills, Philotas, Menandres, Dardana. Of these men, Perdikkas and Ptlomeos, Olkias and Lysimachos, Eumenes and Asandros did not know what had been planned. But all the others were associated in the act and in agreement with Iollas and Kasandros and had given their oath. For they longed for material possessions, and they were wary of Alexander; and in their hearts, they were greatly dismayed by his overweening pride.
When the king had stretched out, Iollas offered him the drink. And then, those who were there behaved in this fashion. They busily added remarks to the conversation to draw out as long as possible the taking of the drugs. Suddenly, Alexander cried out as though he had been hit in the liver by an arrow. For a short while, he controlled himself and, supporting the pain, went off by himself, bidding those who were there to drink. And they were very frightened, and then and there broke up the party and observed the turn of events. Alexander wanted very badly to bring up the wine and asked for a feather, for this is the way he used to do it. And Iollas contaminated it with the drug and offered it to him. Because of this, the drug overcame him all the more effectively, passing undiluted through the body. And Alexander was very ill and trying in vain to vomit, he passed the entire night in awful pain, in dolorous groaning, and in patient suffering.
And on the next day, he realized his bad state, for he was uttering indistinct and unclear sounds because his tongue was already growing stiff. He sent everyone out, so that he might be quiet and alone to talk about what he wanted to. And Kasandros conferred with his brothers, and at night, rushed off to the hills, boldly taking his cup from Iollas. For he had made a pact with Iollas that if the king died, he would be freed from all responsibility. And he sent it to his parent in Macedonia, having written to him in code that the deed was done.
And at nightfall, Alexander ordered everyone to leave the house. Among those he dismissed were Kombaphe and Roxiane, his wife. And from the house there was an exit toward the river called the Euphrates, which runs through Babylon. He ordered it opened and that no one be at the places they customarily stood guard. And when it was the middle of the night, he got up from his bed, put out the light, and crawled on all fours toward the river. And he saw his wife, Roxiane, advancing toward him. He had been planning to act in a manner worthy of his great courage. She followed his final journey in the dark. And Alexander, scarcely making a sound, would groan, and Roxiane was directed to the cry. And he stopped and was still. And his wife embraced him and said, “Are you abandoning and leaving me, Alexander, by committing suicide?” And he said: “Roxiane, it is a small deprivation for you that my glory be taken away from you. But still let no one hear about this.” And he turned away from Roxiane and went back home in concealment.
And when it was day, he ordered Perdikkas and Ptlomeos and Lysimachos to come in. He told them that no one else should approach him until he wrote a will about his affairs. And they went out. And then he seated near him the will makers, Kombaphe and Hermogenes, who were young men. And Perdikkas thought that Alexander would leave all his goods to Ptlomeos because he had often spoken to him of Ptlomeos’ lucky birth. And Olympias, too, had made it clear that Ptlomeos had been fathered by Philip. So he had made him promise privately that he would in turn be a recipient of Alexander’s possessions at the time of the division of his goods. And when night fell, the secretaries began to write. And the king ordered that Perdikkas and Loukias and Ptlomeos and Lysimachos be summoned to him. And they came into the palace.
And suddenly a great shout arose from all the Macedonians. And they all rushed upon the palace saying that they would kill the guards unless they showed them their king. And Alexander heard the noise of the uproar and Perdikkas came and informed him of what the Macedonians were saying. He ordered that his couch be lifted and put in a place where the army might pass and see him and that the soldiers be brought in, clad in a single garment, and taken out the other door, so that they make no trouble amongst themselves and start fighting. The Macedonians entered and passed close by him and gave him encouragement. And there was no one who was not grieved over what had happened to such a great and world-conquering king.
Alexander, still ailing, reads out his will, appointing as king any son born of him and his wife posthumously or, should none be born, his brother, a son of the late Philip of Macedon, until the Macedonians elect a new ruler. Alexander then dies. Historically, Alexander the Great died in Babylon in 323 BC after a night of heavy drinking. His intoxication might have masked the true cause of his death, which some believe was malaria, others alcohol-induced pancreatitis, and others still, poison.
THE CONSTELLATION OF THE MAIDEN
Phaenomena
Aratus
Translated by Douglas Kidd, 1997
The night sky inspired many stories in antiquity. Aratus (c. 315 BC/310 BC–240 BC), a poet from Asia Minor,
wrote an entire book of Phaenomena or ‘Things That Appear’. Underpinned by Stoic philosophy and Greek myth, it describes the positions, and the rising and setting, of the constellations. In the seventh century BC, the poet Hesiod (see Stories 1 and 9) had described Justice (also known as ‘the Maiden’ or ‘Virgo’ in Latin) as abandoning mortals as they grew ever more violent and degenerate. His tale of the decline of man over five ages – Golden, Silver, Bronze, Heroic, and Iron – provides the backbone of Aratus’ story.
Beneath the two feet of Bootes you can observe the Maiden, who carries in her hand the radiant Spica.1 Whether she is the daughter of Astraeus, who, they say, was the original father of the stars, or of some other, may her way be peaceful! There is, however, another tale current among men, that once she actually lived on earth, and came face to face with men, and did not ever spurn the tribes of ancient men and women, but sat in their midst although she was immortal. And they called her Justice: gathering together the elders, either in the market-place or on the broad highway, she urged them in prophetic tones to judgements for the good of the people. At that time they still had no knowledge of painful strife or quarrelsome conflict or noise of battle, but lived just as they were; the dangerous sea was far from their thoughts, and as yet no ships brought them livelihood from afar, but oxen and ploughs and Justice herself, queen of the people and giver of civilised life, provided all their countless needs. That was as long as the earth still nurtured the Golden Age. But with the Silver she associated little, and now not at all willingly, as she longed for the ways of the earlier folk. But nevertheless she was still with this Silver Age too. She would emerge from the sounding mountain towards evening all alone, and not engage anyone in friendly conversation. But filling the broad hillsides with people, she would then speak menacingly, rebuking them for their wickedness, and say she would never more come face to face with them, even if they called her: ‘What an inferior generation your golden fathers have left! And you are likely to beget a still more evil progeny. There will surely be wars, yes, and unnatural bloodshed among men, and suffering from their troubles will come upon them.’ So saying she made for the mountains, and left the people all staring after her. But when these men also had died and there were born the Bronze Age men, more destructive than their predecessors, who were the first to forge the criminal sword for murder on the highways, and the first to taste the flesh of ploughing oxen, then Justice, conceiving a hatred for the generation of these men, flew up to the sky and took up her abode in that place, where she is still visible to men by night as the Maiden near conspicuous Bootes.