Even in the divided Peloponnese, where Sparta and Argos would never support the same cause, there was a movement for democracy. Acrocorinth was held by Polyperchon, the old general who had once fought for his own hand and now hung on to the remains of power as the jackal-ally of Cassander; his mercenaries occupied other cities in the south. But mercenaries are tempted to desert a leader on his way down; the Peloponnese seemed a promising field for diplomacy. Aristodemus went there by sea, with plenty of ready money and authority to promise more.
In Athens the presence of the Saviour God hampered self-government. The Assembly debated, but seldom passed a decree except to add to the honours heaped on Demetrius. A hint from him was enough to stop the reintroduction of liturgies. It was decreed that, as in the bad old days of oligarchy, civic expenditure should be defrayed by the public treasury. Even the new warships were fitted out by the city, partly because wealthy trierarchs could not be trusted to command them in the cause of universal democracy.
Except for measures of rearmament, which were carried out with real energy, the Athenians did little except to bother Demetrius with complimentary but time-wasting duties. They wanted him to lodge permanently in the town hall. Since he did not care to live for twenty-four hours of the day in public, he refused, and hired a house in a fashionable quarter. It was sound tactics to spend money among his faithful devotees, and he could sometimes lock his door in the evening. But far too often he must dine ceremonially in the town hall, where everything was done with a semi-religious ritual; and much of the daytime was wasted in tedious though dignified religious occasions.
He must preside over the annual commemoration of Marathon, which sounded reasonable. The president was normally the most eminent Athenian, and if he was not exactly an Athenian he was the most eminent man then present in Athens. He must preside over the vintage festival, which went on for days and days. That was interesting to begin with. There was plenty of wine, and at first he did not understand that he must taste it and pronounce it wholesome, and that his cup would not be refilled. While he sat on a tall throne, watching the plain daughters of devout citizens clump about in antique ritual dances, someone was always darting up to dress him in another odd garment or push into his hand a strange accessory. It seemed that the Athenians had not made up their minds whether he was their own Saviour God or an embodiment of Dionysus the bringer of wine.
He was willing to believe he might be a god; only the future could show. He was quite sure he was not Dionysus.
In general his divinity had an equivocal character. His most earnest worshippers were sceptics if not downright atheists. He had a feeling that all these sacrifices were offered to honour the city of Athens, not any divine being; and that as a mortal commander with troops at his back he was greater in the eyes of the Athenians than if he had hurled thunderbolts to smite his enemies.
He felt abashed when a sacred embassy waited on him to inquire whether it was in order for the usual envoys to take the annual offerings of the Athenians to Apollo at Delphi. Such an inquiry was normally addressed to Zeus.
Meanwhile Stratocles was always running up with bright ideas which might increase the popularity of Demetrius among the Athenians. As though a Saviour God with an army at his back needed more popularity in the city! Like many democratic leaders, Stratocles was personally debauched but strongly in favour of public decorum; in particular he was worried at the way Demetrius was getting through the hetairae of Athens. Every night they came to his suppers, and one of them, usually a different one, stayed until morning. Stratocles thought this a waste of valuable influence.
‘I’m not trying to interfere with your pleasures, my lord god,’ he said one afternoon, ‘but by living as a bachelor you throw away a considerable asset. Our hetairae are the finest in the world, and it’s a compliment that you love them all so dearly. But nowadays they don’t control votes, whatever it may have been in the time of Aspasia. You ought to marry into an important family, and gain a block of powerful kinsmen whose fortunes will be bound up with yours. Even the proudest family will be glad to have you as son-in-law. You have the whole city to choose from, or may I suggest a candidate? I have heard people say that a Saviour God is a very good thing while he lives in the city, but that you will soon march away to fight Cassander. If we could see your wife, and perhaps her children, living permanently in the city’ it would give your rule a sense of stability.’
‘I am married to the lady Phila, a noble Macedonian. She has given me a son and a daughter, and is in every way worthy of my trust.’
‘Quite so, my lord. But she lives in Asia with her divine father-in-law. Here in Athens you have no wife.’
‘Do you want me to bring her to live here?’
‘That would be better than nothing. But why not take an Athenian wife? I don’t mean a concubine. I wouldn’t advise on the choice of your companions. But I believe that in some monarchies the king is permitted more than one legitimate wife, and you are a god as well as a king.’
‘That’s more or less true,’ said Demetrius, smiling. ‘My father is the successor of the Persian Great King, who had many Queens at the same time. Soon he will also be King of the Macedonians, and their kings have not always restricted themselves to one Queen. I can take another wife, if I want to. But you are not advising me just for my own good. Who is the lady you want me to marry?’
‘You are very gracious, my lord god. As it happens, we have here in Athens a lady suitable in every way. Eurydice is a descendant of Miltiades, the hero of Marathon, and she has already been judged worthy of a throne. She is the widow of King Opheltes of Cyrene, whom Ptolemy overthrew.’
‘H’m, another widow. No one ever offers me a maiden. But then I wouldn’t know how to treat one. There are none among your hetairae.’
‘Well, my lord god, there are advantages in marrying a widow She knows how to please a man, and if she has been a Queen she understands that her place is in the palace and that her husband will amuse himself outside it. That you are already married makes it easier in a way. Queen number two will not presume on her position, lest a third or a fourth should be added.’
‘I’m not worried over the pride of number two. It’s what Phila will say that makes me hesitate. All the same, Phila is in Asia and I am in Hellas. Perhaps I could do with a permanent household over here. I won’t promise anything, but I may as well meet the lady.’
The Athenian lady Eurydice was not so noble and dignified as Phila the Macedonian aristocrat. But she was intelligent, and not particularly frightened of the Savour God. When he met her she spoke up sensibly. Besides, she had a great following among the Athenians, and her kinsmen were entrenched in every branch of the administration. Presumably they wanted the marriage to take place; for Stratocles would not have proposed it save in return for a good bribe. The Saviour God married her with all due formality. The happy occasion was marked by a great banquet, an amnesty which released on the community many professional criminals, and a bonus to every soldier.
Three days later a long letter arrived from Aristodemus, in which he sought to explain away his failure in the Peloponnese. Argos and Corinth would not rise against their oppressors, sensibly preferring the rule of a weak tyrant to liberation by a Saviour God at the head of the strongest army in Hellas. Since they had no confidence in their ability to defend their own freedom that was the wisest course they could pursue. But cities so averse to war would give little help to Cassander, as Aristodemus pointed out the only Hellenes with any will to fight were already allied to Antigonus, and these timorous neutrals might be ignored.
Aristodemus went on to describe how he had balanced this failure with a new initiative. At Argos he had news of a revolution in Epirus, and had gone there at once. The Molossians, the chief tribe of that half-barbarous realm, had chosen another king, heir of a dynasty overthrown in the last generation. This young king Pyrrhus, while in exile had won a reputation for daredevil courage. Better still, he was the hereditary foe of Cassander,
who had supported his rival. He could be relied on to help in the invasion of Macedonia; as earnest of his friendship he had offered to betroth his sister Deidameia to Demetrius.
‘This is a most valuable offer,’ the letter continued, ‘for the girl, though slightly barbarous in blood and most barbarous by upbringing, was betrothed in her cradle to Roxana’s son, the little Alexander. The Epirot royal house has always been reckoned worthy to intermarry with Macedonian kings. By marrying her you will proclaim yourself to be the rightful successor of the mighty Alexander. Since it is such an excellent match I closed with the offer at once, for there was no time to consult you. In fact I represented you in a ceremony, valid in Epirot law, which they call a marriage by proxy. You may now consider the lady Deidameia to be your wife, though it would be fitting to hold another ceremony when you meet her.
‘This may lower the status of the lady Phila. Perhaps she will be distressed when she hears of it, but perhaps she will not hear of it. I shall not inform her, and there is no compelling necessity that you should. Phila approaches the age when natural death is to be expected; Deidameia is a child, physically too young for marriage. The envious may accuse you of having two Queens at once, but it would be more accurate to say that you have secured an option on a successor to your present Queen. In any case the deed is done, and will bring you great benefits. I look forward to a generous welcome when I return to your court in Athens.’
Demetrius handed the letter to his cousin Telesphorus, and waited until he had finished reading it. ‘What do you think of the old scoundrel?’ he asked cheerfully. ‘He’s afraid he has gone too far, but I shan’t smack him for his impudence. I wonder when this wedding took place? It would be amusing if it was the day I married Eurydice. To marry two ladies at once, in different countries, is something of an achievement even for a Saviour God. It doesn’t matter, really. Either you have one wife, or more than one. If you decide for the plural, two or three or indeed thirty-three are just a matter of taste and convenience. Now that I have taken the plunge there’s no reason why I shouldn’t set up a Queen in every Hellenic city which makes war on Cassander. I don’t think I will, though. Too much trouble, and much too expensive.’
‘What about the rest of his advice?’ asked Telesphorus, his eyes glancing keenly from an apparently carefree face. So far his cousin had endured his deification with great good sense, but a prudent courtier must be constantly on the alert for delusions of grandeur. How soon would Demetrius begin to imagine that he was not bound by the rules of marality which bind ordinary men? ‘Will you order your chamberlains in Celaenae to poison Phila, as he seems to advocate?’
‘Is that how you read it? When I gave you the letter I said he was a scoundrel. It’s the sort of thing he would think of. Note that he doesn’t come into the open with this prudent advice. I shall just pretend to be too stupid to see the hint. I suppose that sooner or later he will advise you to poison me, take over my army, and rule the civilised world through Aristodemus as chief minister.’
‘Not me. I’m only your cousin, too far from the throne. I understand he made some such proposal to your brother Philip. Since you are still in excellent health I suppose Philip turned down the plan.’
‘Poor Philip is in very bad health, so I hear. Perhaps Aristodemus is behind that in some way, though I don’t see what he would gain from it. No, Aristodemus is just a devious Ionian. Those sorts of ideas come naturally into his head. But he’s a good envoy, I suppose because of his natural crookedness. I shall keep him in my service, though on foreign missions as far as possible; because if I see too much of his sly grin I shall one day slice it in half with my own sword.’
‘And the health of the lady Phila?’ Telesphorus persisted, just to be sure.
‘I hope she outlives me,’ Demetrius answered. ‘Cassander is her brother, and I can’t love her as I love some concubines because she is too old. But there’s no one I like better to be with, in the daytime. There’s something about her that you don’t find in anyone else, at least in anyone else at court. She’s a Macedonian lady from the old days, the days before Alexander conquered the world and left it for us to squabble over - from the days when brother did not poison brother or a husband his wife. I want her there always in the background; though perhaps Athens is more enjoyable because I know she is safely in Asia. But in Asia she is safe. Anyone who harms her will answer to me.’
‘That’s definite, anyway, and I’m glad to hear it,’ said Telesphorus. ‘Now shall we go out and watch the drill of these Athenian recruits, the noble Hellenic youth they are so proud of? I wonder why they drill naked, when presumably they will fight in armour?’
In early spring, before the campaigning season opened, came news that Philip son of Antigonus had died of a fever. To Demetrius it was a landmark gone; but it was more than two years since the brothers had met and they had never been close friends. Even as he mourned he could not stifle the thought: ‘Now I am my father’s only son, sole heir to the great realm of Antigonus the Saviour God. Every city that I conquer must one day come to me; and soon, since my father is past eighty years old.’
It seemed that father and son together were on the verge of reuniting the great Empire of Alexander. The realm they had already won lay in the central and richest region of that Empire, so that their rivals were separated. Ptolemy held the isolated dead-end of Egypt; Seleucus reigned in Mesopotamia, where he was building a new capital, Seleucia, to replace Babylon, ruined past recovery by the raids of Demetrius. Cassander, ruler of Macedonia, was the most dangerous of the rivals, the foe who must be crushed before the outlying provinces could be tackled. Once Macedonia was united to Asia the job would be more than half done.
In emulation of Antigonus his rivals had each assumed the title of king; though without any territorial designations, for each claimed to be king of the whole civilised world. Demetrius was delighted when he heard of it; the imitation showed that his royal title had impressed them.
Perhaps it was a pity, after Seleucus had copied the title of Antigonus, that Antigonus should copy Seleucus in founding a brand-new capital city; or so thought Demetrius. But old Antigonus was enchanted with his hobby. Everywhere he sought cultured citizens for the new city of Antigoneia on the Orontes, in north Syria. A few went from as far as Athens, small craftsmen and petty traders who took no interest in politics. True democrats wanted to stay in Hellas and finish off Cassander; the gentry, though they did not like the rule of Stratocles, did not wish to exchange it for the rule of King Antigonus who had set Stratocles over them.
Most Athenians were ready to pull their weight in the coming war. They hoped that victory might bring them true independence, though in the modern world that was really impossible. But in conversation with Stratocles Demetrius suggested a plan that would make Hellas, if not Athens alone, independent and powerful.
‘Athens isn’t Athens unless she is free,’ said the politician, ‘and by that I mean something more than levying taxes to repair our own drains. Any collection of houses does that, even if there is a foreign garrison in the citadel. We must be free to plan peace or war - as of course we do now. Saviour God. But at present we are free only because your army protects us from Cassander. I am planning for the day when you march off to further conquests.’
‘Athens must be free while such a devoted democrat leads the Assembly,’ Demetrius answered. It was amusing to tease this brave headstrong rogue, especially amusing to hear him parry awkward reminders. ‘No city that is not completely free can make a man into a god. No one could ever hint that you did it in obedience to my orders, for those are not the kind of orders I would give. By the way, was it your idea that I should be asked whether the season is propitious for the annual embassy to go to Delphi? As far as I am concerned there could not be a better time, but I cannot speak for my colleagues. It would be better to consult Zeus.’
‘I didn’t think of that one, Saviour God. The proposal came from a fellow named Democleides. He’s an ass with a read
y tongue and a dread of responsibility who likes making speeches in the Assembly but won’t administer any department of government. I had to back him, of course, once he had spoken. It wouldn’t do if people went about Athens saying that others are more ready to honour the Saviour Gods than I am. All the same, I’m sorry Democleides thought of it. Delphi is important, at least to the superstitious. If next summer’s campaign goes wrong they will say it is because the embassy sought sanction from you and not from Zeus.’
‘I see. Delphi is important - and of course my divinity isn’t. I had suspected as much. I’m glad to have it confirmed, and from such a devout servant of the gods as you. Don’t be alarmed. This is a private discussion. But to return to your original point. I don’t see that a city this size can ever be a power in the modern world. I can’t give you back the islands that you ruled in the days of Pericles. I am fighting to bring liberty to all Hellenes, and I can’t at the same time force them into subjection to Athens,’
‘I see that. Though most of my followers won’t. But there is a solution - a federation of free cities, the Delian League in its original form - the islands managing their own affairs but sending delegates to decide foreign policy at a central assembly. Since Athens will be run by the Athenian delegation. That’s feasible, you know, and it doesn’t impair anyone’s freedom.’
‘A sound idea. We’ll set up your Island League, though we had better wait until after this campaign. But your League, even a League of all the cities of Hellas from Sparta to Thebes, won’t be strong enough to speak as an equal with the Great King.’
‘Of course not, my lord god. As Great King you will be something more than a man, that’s why we recognised your divinity. But Persia and Macedonia are not natural partners. One day the Empire will fall apart, and then Athens with her allies will be as free as ever she was.’
Elephants and Castles Page 8