If Alexander had been any other general, he would have thanked the gods for his miraculous escape and retreated back to Macedonia as swiftly as possible. But the king was not one to withdraw from a fight without victory. Three days later, when Cleitus and Glaucias were confident that the Macedonians were far away, Alexander quietly moved back across the river under cover of darkness. A scout had told him the enemy were deployed just as he suspected—no defensive walls, no trenches, and no sentries—believing they had seen the last of the Macedonians. Alexander and his men moved into the Illyrian camp and killed the first of the enemy as they slept, then attacked the panic-stricken barbarians with such swiftness that they threw aside their weapons and ran from the city, the survivors escaping into the mountains. Cleitus set fire to the town and fled with Glaucias and his Taulantians, never to be heard from again.
Just when Alexander dared to hope that he could at last begin his invasion of Asia, news arrived from the south that the Greek states had once again risen against him. Since he had been campaigning for weeks beyond the borders of civilization, it seemed the perfect opportunity for the disgruntled cities of Greece to rebel. As they reasoned, an inexperienced boy just short of his twenty-first birthday could not prevail against the barbaric tribes of the north. Even if Alexander was still alive, his long absence had given the Greeks plenty of time to seethe in discontent. And as usual, the Persians were on hand with plenty of gold to pay off the Greeks and thwart any Macedonian plans for an Asian campaign.
The Athenian orator Demosthenes was once again at the fore in stirring up trouble for Alexander. That summer he climbed to the speaker’s platform at the Athenian assembly and declared that Alexander and the entire Macedonian army had been annihilated by the Triballi on the Danube. He even produced a supposed veteran of the battle wrapped in bloody bandages who declared that he himself had seen Alexander fall. The Athenians rose to cheer the rebirth of Greek independence. News spread quickly throughout the land that the young tyrant was dead, for as Arrian wisely observes, “As often happens in such cases when there are no certain facts, people believe the truth to be whatever it is they most desire.”
No Greek city was more anxious to rebel than Thebes. Only three years earlier the Thebans had watched in horror as their army had been crushed by Philip and Alexander at Chaeronea. Then they had twice endured the humiliation of surrender and the posting of a Macedonian garrison on the Cadmeia citadel overlooking their town. Thebes, the fabled city of Oedipus and conqueror of Sparta, had been reduced to a provincial outpost of the Macedonian empire. It was too much for the citizens to bear. Although they had lost many of their best men at Chaeronea, they were still a proud people with an ancient military tradition. According to myths passed down from their ancestors, they had sprung from dragon’s teeth sown in the earth. They were now determined to prove they could still bite.
The spark that lit the flames of rebellion came when a small group of Theban exiles driven out several years earlier by Philip snuck back into town with the aim of inciting an uprising. The Macedonian garrison at Thebes had become so confident in its invulnerability that the men had taken regularly to wandering the streets of Thebes beyond the protected walls of the Cadmeia, no doubt in search of wine and women. One night the exiles ambushed two of these soldiers, Amyntas and Timolaus, and brazenly killed them. The murderers then came before the Theban assembly and boasted of their deed, urging the citizens of their town to join them by evoking that most cherished of Greek ideals: eleutheria—freedom.
The Thebans enthusiastically took up the call and rushed to the Cadmeia. The stronghold was an oval-shaped hill on the southern end of the town fast against the city wall. There was no way for the citizens to storm the fortress, but they could isolate the Macedonian defenders. They quickly dug trenches and built palisades to deny the occupiers supplies and reinforcements, then the assembly sent messages to friendly Greek cities asking for help. Horsemen sped to Arcadia, Argos, and Elis, all in the distant Peloponnese. Unfortunately for the Thebans, their history of belligerence had made bitter enemies of their neighboring states. Even the Peloponnesians were not eager to lend a hand. Only the Arcadians sent reinforcements, but these made camp thirty miles away near Corinth to wait on events. The messengers had no better luck at Athens, where Demosthenes—in typical fashion—led a rousing vote in support of the brave Theban rebels, then did nothing.
Meanwhile at Thebes, the commander of the Macedonian garrison watched from the Cadmeia as the townspeople built double siege walls completely around him. They even constructed palisades beyond the southern walls of the town to prevent escape. The commander ordered his soldiers to make what preparations they could, but without reinforcements there was little they could do except wait.
Alexander, however, had not been idle. As soon as he had heard of the uprising at Thebes, he struck camp in Illyria and began racing south. By themselves the Thebans were a powerful force, but if they were allowed to join with the Peloponnesian infantry and the Athenian navy—all backed by Persia—they could create a formidable alliance. So, with no time to waste, he marched his men from Pellium day and night with little rest along the impossible mountain trails of central Greece until at last they emerged onto the plains of western Thessaly. From there they advanced south through the pass at Thermopylae and across Boeotia to the outskirts of Thebes. At almost twenty miles a day through some of the most grueling terrain in Europe, it was a singular achievement. And since in ancient times a rapid army could outpace the news of its approach, the Macedonians arrived at the gates of Thebes before the rebels even knew they were on the way.
What happened next depends on which Greek historian you believe. Our two primary sources for the assault on Thebes—Arrian and Diodorus—paint two equally compelling pictures of Alexander’s actions at the town. They agree on the basic facts, but the motives that drove the king and the degree to which he sanctioned what would become a watershed event in Greek history couldn’t be more different in their accounts.
Both authors describe how Alexander made camp near the northern end of the city walls to give the Thebans time to reconsider their revolt. The king did not want a war if it could be prevented—not because he loved Thebes, but because every day he spent in Greece only diminished his chances for success in Asia. If possible, Alexander would have preferred the Thebans surrender and be forgiven. If they had done so, he probably would have been content with the execution or exile of a few ringleaders and promises of better behavior in the future from the rest. But the Thebans would have none of it. Their assembly approved a unanimous resolution declaring they would fight.
Alexander had thousands of Macedonian and allied soldiers surrounding Thebes including, as Arrian emphasizes, contingents from Plataea, Orchomenus, and Thespiae—three nearby cities that had suffered severely at the hands of the Theban army in the past. These soldiers had grown up with stories of their towns burned, their territory confiscated, and their mothers violated by vicious Theban soldiers. Alexander may have wanted peace, but many who joined him at Thebes yearned for revenge.
As the hours passed, Alexander waited for a sign of submission from Thebes. Instead the citizens rushed out of the gates with their cavalry and a sizeable force of light-armed troops to surprise the Macedonians. The move succeeded because Alexander was not expecting the outnumbered Thebans to attack him first. They managed to kill a few of his advance guards before fleeing back behind the city walls. With his frustration mounting, the next day Alexander moved his camp south of the city near the road to Athens. This location was also closer to his troops blockaded within the Cadmeia. He sent another herald to the walls to announce that he was still willing to forgive the Thebans even though they had killed some of his men. No doubt hoping to divide the citizens, he proclaimed that any citizen of the town who wished could surrender to him and join in the peace that was his gift to all Greeks. Instead the Thebans began to shout from their towers that anyone in Alexander’s army who wished to join them and th
e Great King in fleeing from the tyranny of Alexander was welcome inside the city.
Arrian omits this episode and blames what happened next on one of Alexander’s officers, but Diodorus records a version that in many ways is more believable. He says that something inside Alexander snapped when he heard the Thebans call him a tyrant, especially as they invoked the Great King of Persia as a liberator of Greece. Alexander knew from reading Plato’s Republic that tyranny was the basest form of government, even more disreputable in the eyes of that aristocratic philosopher than democracy. The king flew into a towering rage and declared he would make an example of Thebes. As Diodorus says, “He decided to utterly destroy the city. By this deliberate act of terror, he hoped to take the heart out of anyone who might rise against him in the future.” With this goal firmly in mind, Alexander called in his engineers to prepare siege engines and laid his plans to wipe Thebes off the map of Greece.
But according to Arrian, what happened was the fault of a captain of the guard named Perdiccas. This officer was one of Alexander’s most loyal followers and hailed from a noble family in the Macedonian highlands of Orestis. He had fought bravely with Alexander in Illyria and in the future would become one of the most important Macedonian leaders, but now he was simply an eager young soldier who wanted to impress his king. Perdiccas was camped close to the enemy palisades on the southeast of the city. He saw an opportunity to rush the gate with his troops and did so without consulting Alexander. Before anyone knew what was happening, Perdiccas and his men were inside the walls with another Macedonian battalion close behind them. At that point Alexander had no choice but to commit his army to an assault that had already begun.
Whichever version of the story is true, the fight for Thebes was brutal. The king ordered the Agrianians and the archers from Crete inside the palisade, but kept his infantry in reserve. The impetuous Perdiccas meanwhile had rushed deep into the city and had been grievously wounded. His troops dragged him to safety and the doctors saved his life with difficulty, but his men continued the attack near the temple of Hercules just below the Cadmeia. There they surrounded a large contingent of Thebans, believing they had the citizens trapped, but with a shout the soldiers of Thebes turned on the invaders. Alexander’s men were caught off guard and panicked in the unfamiliar streets, so that almost seventy of his archers were slain within minutes.
Alexander watched as the frightened auxiliaries rushed out of the city. He knew he had to do something fast. He lined up his veteran Macedonians and with their deadly sarissa formation attacked the pursuing Thebans. It was now the turn of the Thebans to panic as they faced those fearsome spears. They ran back to the gates of the city in such a disorganized mob that the last ones through forgot to bar the gates. Alexander burst into Thebes and his men spread throughout the town.
Like the fall of any city in war, the result was uncommon bravery mixed with butchery and horror. In the narrow streets of Thebes, the sounds of screams and clashing metal filled the air. Some of Alexander’s men made it to the Cadmeia and freed the Macedonian soldiers trapped inside, but most fought house by house through the town. The Thebans urged one another to resist with all their might, remembering the fate that awaited their families if they failed. Alexander marveled at the spirit of the citizens as they stood their ground, but he was still determined to make them pay dearly for their betrayal. Arrian says it was the fellow Greeks from cities near Thebes who slaughtered the women and children without mercy, but the Macedonians surely killed their share. Houses were plundered, wives and daughters raped, old men were slain in their beds, and even citizens who had sought refuge in the temples were cut down as they clasped the altars of the gods.
Over six thousand Thebans perished that day, while at least thirty thousand captives were taken. It was a holocaust unlike anything the Greek world had ever seen. Other cities had been sacked in war, but never before had one of the great towns of Greece fallen so suddenly and so completely. It was as if the old stories of the sack of Troy had come to life.
Alexander made a pretext of letting the League of Corinth decide what was to be done with the ruins of Thebes, but it was only a show. The declaration that the city would be razed, the lands surrounding the town distributed to allies, and the Theban survivors sold into slavery was a foregone conclusion. The vast amount of money generated at the slave auctions went directly to the Macedonian treasury. The only citizens Alexander spared were the priests and priestesses, those who had shown unwavering friendship to Macedonia, and—since Alexander had a particular appreciation for Greek verse—the descendants of the Theban poet Pindar.
One story of Alexander’s mercy in the midst of such horror may have a basis in fact, given as he was to acts of kindness to women. According to Plutarch, when a band of Thracian marauders broke into a large Theban house during the battle, they met a young widow named Timocleia, known throughout the town for her piety. While his soldiers plundered her property, their leader raped her, then asked if she had any hidden treasure. She confessed that, yes, she did have riches hidden in her garden. The Thracian captain followed her to a well in which she told him she had cast her valuables at the beginning of the siege. As the greedy man bent over the open well, Timocleia came up behind him and pushed him in. She then threw heavy stones on the trapped man until he was crushed. When the rest of the Thracians discovered what had happened, they bound her and led her to Alexander to be punished. The captive woman appeared before the king with a calm demeanor and surprising dignity. Alexander asked her who she was and she boldly replied that she was the wife of the Theban commander who had fought his father at the battle of Chaeronea. Alexander was so impressed by Timocleia that he let her depart the town in freedom along with her children.
When the news of the destruction of Thebes spread throughout Greece, the cities that had risen against Alexander rushed to explain that they had always, in fact, been on his side. The Arcadians who had sent a contingent of soldiers as far as Corinth voted to execute the leaders who had instigated the action. Other towns sent embassies to Alexander begging his forgiveness and assuring him of their undying loyalty to Macedonia. All of Greece suddenly remembered that they had never really cared for Thebes. Indeed, hadn’t the Thebans supported the hated Persians during the great war for Greek survival in the previous century? Certainly they deserved whatever evils had befallen them.
Like Philip, Alexander had heard it all before and knew how to play his part in this tiresome drama. He graciously forgave the Greeks and promised he would take no vengeance on them—with the exception of Athens. When the first messengers from Thebes arrived in Attica, the Athenians were celebrating the mysteries of the goddess Demeter at the nearby town of Eleusis. The goddess guaranteed that the warm sun and fruits of the earth would return again after the coming winter, but to the Athenians it must have seemed as if darkness were about to descend forever. They had not actually sent troops in support of Thebes, but how many times could they expect Alexander to forgive them for plotting against him? They abandoned the religious festival at once and streamed back into the walls of Athens with all the possessions they could carry. This time surely the king would unleash his Macedonians on them and destroy their city once and for all.
The aged Athenian statesmen Demades proposed that the Athenians send an embassy to Alexander congratulating him on his safe return from the barbarian lands of the north and his magnificent victory over Thebes. This the assembly did immediately, but Alexander sent them back to Athens with a message that he was willing to overlook their disloyalty only if they would send to his camp ten of his longtime enemies, including the chief troublemaker Demosthenes. To the conservative party leader Phocion, this seemed perfectly reasonable. He was a respected military veteran who had once been a student of Plato’s. He also detested Demosthenes and would be thrilled to see his longtime adversary crucified by the Macedonians. He rose before the assembly and called on his fellow citizens to remember the story of the Athenian heroes Leos and Hyacinthus, who
had sacrificed their own willing daughters to save the state when it faced destruction. Turning to Demosthenes, he declared that these mere girls had gladly gone to their deaths to save their city—wouldn’t any true Athenian patriot do likewise?
In spite of Phocion, the supporters of Demosthenes still controlled the assembly and threw the old general off the platform. Demosthenes then climbed the stone steps and addressed his fellow citizens in a carefully prepared speech. It was not without reason that he was considered the best orator of the age. By the end of his address, he had won the crowd to his side. Demades, heavily bribed by Demosthenes’ party, then proposed that they send a second embassy to Alexander begging him to reconsider and spare the Athenian leaders. Since the king still needed the Athenian navy for his Persian invasion, this time Alexander relented with the condition that they surrender only the general Charidemus to him. This was a clever ploy, since he was not a native-born Athenian and could be safely sacrificed by all parties. Charidemus knew which way the wind was blowing and immediately sailed off to join the Persians. Honor satisfied, Alexander agreed to leave the Athenians in peace.
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