30. Hannibal took little interest in the fate of the other soldiers, but when he heard that Marcellus had been killed, he immediately hurried to the spot and stood for a long time by the dead body, admiring its strength and beauty. He uttered not a single boastful word, nor did he show any sign of exultation, such as might be expected of a man who had just rid himself of a bitter and formidable enemy. But after he had expressed his wonder at the unexpectedness of Marcellus’ death, he removed his signet ring,137 but gave orders that his body should be treated with honour, wrapped in a fine robe, adorned and burned. After this he collected the ashes in a silver urn, crowned it with a gilded wreath and sent it to Marcellus’ son. But on the way a party of Numidians fell in with the men who were escorting the urn. They tried to seize it by force, and when the others resisted, they fought and in the struggle the ashes were scattered far and wide. When Hannibal heard this, he remarked, ‘Nothing can be done against the will of the gods.’ He ordered the Numidians to be punished, but made no further effort to collect or return the remains, since he evidently felt that the strange manner in which Marcellus had met his death and been denied a proper burial indicated that some divine purpose was at work. This, at any rate, is the account which we find in Cornelius Nepos and Valerius Maximus, but according to Livy and Augustus Caesar the urn was returned to Marcellus’ son and buried with splendid ceremony.138
Besides the monuments which Marcellus dedicated in Rome there was a gymnasium at Catana in Sicily which bore his name, and statues and votive tablets from among the plunder of Syracuse were set up in the temple of the gods named the Cabiri in Samothrace,139 and in the temple of Athena at Lindus.140 On the statue there, according to Poseidonius, the following epigram was inscribed:
Stranger, this man you behold was the guiding star of his
country.
Claudius Marcellus by name, born of a glorious line;
Seven times consul, he led the armies of Rome into battle,
Death and destruction he dealt to all who invaded his land.
The author of these verses has counted his two appointments as proconsul as well as his five consulships. His descendants continued to distinguish themselves down to the time of that Marcellus,141 the nephew of Caesar, whose parents were Caesar’s sister Octavia and Gaius Marcellus. He died while he was holding the office of aedile at Rome, soon after he had married Caesar’s daughter. It was in his honour and to his memory that Octavia dedicated a library and Caesar a theatre,142 both of which bear his name to this day.
Comparison of Pelopidas and Marcellus
1 (31). These are the matters that I thought worthy of record from all that historians have written about Marcellus and Pelopidas. In nature and in character they were very alike, as if in these respects they were rivals, for each was valorous, tireless, bold and high-minded. Between them this appears to be their sole difference: whereas Marcellus, in many of the cities he conquered, massacred their populations,1 Epaminondas and Pelopidas executed no one in the aftermath of their victories, nor did they sell any cities into slavery. And, it is widely agreed, had they been present at the time, that the Thebans would not have treated the Orchomenians as they did.2
As for their exploits, those performed by Marcellus in his war against the Celts were extraordinary and admirable, for he routed a great force of cavalry and infantry with only a small detachment of mounted troops at his disposal. It is difficult to find in any historical account a comparable achievement by any other general, and he slew the enemy’s king. By contrast, Pelopidas failed when attempting the same deed, for he was struck down and slain by the tyrant3 before he could do the striking. Nevertheless, with the successes of Marcellus we may compare the battles of Leuctra and Tegyra,4 the most glorious and grand of all conflicts. Furthermore, Marcellus accomplished nothing by means of stealth or ambuscade that bears comparison with Pelopidas’ feat when he returned from exile and put an end to the tyrants of Thebes.5 Indeed, of all actions ever committed through concealment and cunning, this one seems the most notable.
Hannibal was indeed a terrible and formidable enemy for the Romans, but so, too, were the Lacedaemonians for the Thebans, and it is a well-established fact that they were vanquished by Pelopidas at Tegyra and Leuctra, whereas, at least according to Polybius, Hannibal was never defeated by Marcellus but instead remained unbeaten until he confronted Scipio.6 Still, I prefer the evidence of Livy, Caesar, Nepos and, among historians writing in Greek, King Juba:7 they insist that, in several conflicts, Marcellus routed Hannibal’s forces, even if these events had no great bearing on the outcome of the war and even if, as seems likely, some of this fighting took place when the Carthaginian was executing a ruse.
What rightly and reasonably inspires admiration, however, is that after defeat had been inflicted on so many armies, after so many generals had perished in battle, and after the whole of their empire had been thrown into utter confusion, the Romans still had the courage to face their foes. For there was one man who restored the army’s ardour and its desire to come to blows with the enemy instead of remaining overcome by fear and dread. He re-called Rome’s soldiers to their valour and confidence, so that not only were they unwilling to yield victory but they actually fought for it with all their heart and might. This man was Marcellus. Indeed, when their devastating losses had accustomed the Romans to be grateful whenever they managed to escape Hannibal by flight, Marcellus taught them to feel disgraced if they survived defeat, to be ashamed if they even came close to surrendering and anguished if they were not victorious.
2 (32). Now Pelopidas never experienced defeat when he was in command, and Marcellus won more victories than any other Roman of his time. Perhaps, then, it seems fair to make no distinction between the one general, who achieved so many successes and was so difficult to overcome, and the other, who was unbeatable. Marcellus, to be sure, took Syracuse, whereas Pelopidas failed to take Sparta. But in my opinion it was a greater triumph to march to Sparta and be the first man to lead an army over the River Eurotas8 than it was to conquer Sicily – unless, by Zeus! anyone should maintain that this exploit, like the victory at Leuctra, ought to be credited to Epaminondas9 instead of Pelopidas, while no one but Marcellus had any share in the glory of capturing Syracuse. For it was Marcellus alone who took Syracuse, and he routed the Celts without a colleague. And in the contest against Hannibal, when no one would assist him and everyone discouraged him, it was Marcellus who took the field and changed the nature of the war through being the first general to exhibit boldness.
3 (33). I do not praise the death of either man. Indeed, I am distressed and annoyed at the sheer thoughtlessness that brought disaster upon each of them. And I admire Hannibal because – although he fought so many battles it would weary one to count them all – he received not even a single wound. I also hold in high esteem the character of Chrysantes in The Education of Cyrus,10 who, at the very moment when his blade was raised and he was about to strike down his enemy, heard the trumpet sound retreat and therefore let the man go, while he retired from battle calmly and decorously.
Still, this much is undeniable: Pelopidas’ actions can be excused because, in addition to the violent passion that stirred him during combat, he was impelled by a noble anger to seek vengeance.11 For the best thing is that a general should be victorious and remain alive. However, ‘if he must die, let him give up his life valorously’,12 as Euripides puts it, for then he does not merely suffer death but rather his death is a deed that he executes himself. Apart from the anger that animated him, Pelopidas recognized how the true realization of his victory lay in the death of the tyrant, and this motive was certainly a reasonable one. Indeed, it would be difficult to find another act of valour whose promise was so noble or so glorious.
Marcellus, by contrast, although he was not hard pressed by circumstances and was not swept up by the passion that, in moments of great danger, dislodges our prudence, nonetheless stupidly put himself at risk and died – not, however, the death of a general bu
t of a skirmisher or a scout. His five consulates, his three triumphs, the spoils and trophies he had taken from kings, all these he simply cast beneath the feet of Iberians and Numidians who were no more than battle fodder for the Carthaginians. Thus was each man his own nemesis, bringing retribution on his own success, when that Roman who excelled all others in valour, in power and in glory threw his life away among the scouts of Fregellae.
This should not be taken as a condemnation of these men but rather as an indignant and frank complaint on their behalf against themselves and their courage, to which quality they sacrificed their other virtues because each was heedless of his life and soul, as if their deaths affected only themselves and not their country, their friends and their allies.
After his death, Pelopidas was buried by his allies,13 on whose behalf he had fallen. Marcellus was buried by his enemies, against whom he had fallen. The end of the former was enviable and blessed, to be sure, but there is something finer and better than the affection inspired by favours one has received and this is when one’s hatred is overcome by admiration for the very virtue that has brought one grief in the past. For in this case it is nobility itself which is honoured, whereas in the other it is more a matter of esteeming utility and advantage than virtue.
ARATUS
* * *
Introduction to Aratus
Aratus and the Rise of the Achaean League
In the period between the death of Alexander the Great in 323 BC and the battle of Pydna in 168 BC, when, in Polybius’ words, ‘the Romans succeeded in subjecting nearly the whole of the inhabited world to their sole authority’ (1.1.5), the cities of Greece found themselves in an uneven competition with powerful kingdoms governed by Macedonian dynasties. The most important of these Hellenistic monarchies were the Antigonids in Macedon, the Ptolemies in Egypt and, possessing dominions that reached from Syria throughout the near east, the Seleucids – each regal house energetically striving for primacy in the Greek world. Sometimes they gained influence through royal benefactions, at other times through less welcome impositions, like the installation of obedient tyrants or even military garrisons serving under royal commanders. In this geopolitical arena, individual cities were at an obvious disadvantage, and as a consequence many endeavoured to improve their odds by forming themselves into leagues.1 Such leagues became sovereign federal states, and through their unity acquired wealth and manpower sufficient to resist, if not in the end to overcome, the encroachments of the kings.
The two chief leagues of the third and second centuries BC were the Achaeans and the Aetolians. Aetolia was a rough and mountainous region of northwest central Greece, lying along the northern coast of the Gulf of Corinth. Most Aetolian cities were small, apart from Naupactus and Heraclea, and the austere economic conditions of the region stimulated raiding parties and brigandage.2 On the other side of the Gulf of Corinth lay Achaea, which stretched across the northeast of the Peloponnese. Aegium, modern Aigio, located on the Gulf of Corinth, was its capital city. Achaea was more developed and generally more prosperous than Aetolia, but far less formidable. The Achaean League had fallen into disuse early in the third century BC and was reconstituted only in 280 BC, a time when the Aetolians had already become a redoubtable military power. Put differently, the Achaean League was second rate, and it was Aratus who changed all that.3
In 271 BC Aratus was born into an aristocratic family in Sicyon. His father Cleinias was assassinated in a political coup in 264 BC. Aratus, who was only seven at the time, was smuggled out of the city and sent to Argos, where he grew up in dignified exile (chs. 2–3). In 251 BC, at the age of twenty, Aratus assembled a force of Sicyonian exiles and sympathizers and with it liberated his native city from tyranny (chs. 5–9), although it appears that, afterwards, Aratus remained more or less in sole charge of Sicyonian affairs, by what constitutional mechanism is unknown.4
It was at this time that Sicyon joined the Achaean League (ch. 9). The league was governed by annually elected magistrates, the chief of whom was the general (strategos). He was assisted by a cavalry commander (hipparch), by a league secretary and by numerous other elected civic officers. Basic authority, however, lay with an assembly of all male citizens, the men of military age, who ordinarily met four times each year in order to elect magistrates and make final decisions about matters of national importance.5
In the aftermath of its liberation, Sicyon was threatened by social revolution (chs. 12–14). At first, Aratus looked for help to Antigonus Gonatas, the king of Macedon, from whom he received a payment of 25 talents (ch. 11). In exchange, Aratus directed Sicyonian attacks against the king’s new enemy in Corinth (ch. 18).6 This strategically situated city had long been garrisoned by the Macedonians, but, around 249 BC, its commander, Alexander, a nephew of the king, declared himself an independent dynast. Hence Antigonus’ hostility and Aratus’ assaults. But the nimble Alexander quickly joined the Achaean League, thus neutralizing Sicyon’s usefulness to Macedon, since Aratus could hardly attack another member of the league. Consequently, Aratus turned to Antigonus’ rival, Ptolemy II, for financial assistance, and it was Egyptian aid that led to the final resolution of Sicyon’s domestic troubles.
In 245 BC, at the age of twenty-six, Aratus was elected general of the Achaean League. So commanding a presence in Achaean politics was he that he went on to win election every other year (an interval between offices was constitutionally mandated) for almost the rest of his life. As general he was relentlessly hostile to the Aetolians, and he vigorously resisted Macedonian influence in the Peloponnese. In 243 BC, in the most significant military exploit of his career, he captured Corinth, which by then had been regained by Antigonus and for whom its fresh loss was a major blow (chs. 16–24). At this point, the Achaean League declared Ptolemy III its leader (hegemon), which was in reality no more than an honorific designation for the king but a clear statement of the league’s hostility towards Macedon. Antigonus reacted by forming an alliance between himself and Aetolia against the Achaeans, who in turn allied themselves with Sparta. Under Aratus’ leadership, the territorial expansion of the Achaean League found expression as a policy of liberation, whereby Greek cities were first freed from tyrants or garrisons and thereafter coerced into joining the league of their liberators (chs. 25–35). This policy was effective in increasing the league’s strength largely at the expense of Antigonus and his allies.
The death of Antigonus in 239 BC resulted in further Macedonian setbacks. The Aetolians, turning against their erstwhile ally, signed a peace treaty with the Achaeans, who continued to expand in the Peloponnese until, by 229 BC, the Achaean League was bigger and richer than ever before. Now, however, many of its new members, cities like Argos and Megalopolis, were traditionally hostile to Sparta, and they managed to drag the league into a fresh conflict with this city, despite its alliance with the league.
Perhaps this was inevitable, as Sparta, too, was a resurgent power. Under its young king, Cleomenes III,7 who came to his throne around 235 BC, Sparta had extended its sway into Arcadia and into territories controlled by the Achaean League. These encroachments led the Achaeans to declare war in 228 BC, although Aratus was reluctant to do so. At the end of 227 BC, however, Cleomenes violently seized absolute power in Sparta and introduced a series of radical reforms, all designed to restore the city’s traditional military might. The immediate result was a significant increase in Sparta’s military manpower, and this enlarged army, under Cleomenes’ leadership, allowed the Spartans to gain the upper hand in their war with the Achaeans (chs. 35–8). One effect of Sparta’s success was a rash of seditious behaviour throughout the league, including in Sicyon and Corinth, by groups who were weary of war and willing to accommodate an ascendant Cleomenes (chs. 39–40). Soon, the Spartan king demanded that the Achaeans name him their hegemon, a condition for peace that appealed to many in the league. Not, however, to Aratus, who managed to persuade the league to continue the war by allying itself with Macedon, now ruled by Antigonus Doson (chs. 38 a
nd 42). This was a drastic and startling volte-face, for which Aratus was harshly criticized, both by contemporaries and later writers, including Plutarch (ch. 38). This was because the king demanded a steep price for his alliance: he insisted that he be named the hegemon of the league and Corinth be restored to Macedonian control (chs. 41–2).
Aratus’ Macedonian policy transformed Greek politics in a lasting way. In 224 BC Antigonus, now the league’s hegemon, entered the war. Cleomenes collapsed quickly, and, after his defeat at the battle of Sellasia in 222 BC, fled to Egypt. Of far greater consequence for the Achaeans was a new alliance contrived by Antigonus during the course of the war: the Hellenic League, itself a league of leagues ostensibly organized for mutual defence though in reality a diplomatic device for consolidating Macedonian supremacy in Greece. The existence of Antigonus’ very extensive Hellenic League, however, helped to establish a common peace in the Peloponnese. Even the Aetolians, who as enemies of Macedon were not included in the new alliance, were for the moment quiet.
During the war against Cleomenes, Aratus found himself gradually reduced to the condition of a royal courtier. He remained a powerful figure, to be sure, but balancing Achaean and Macedonian interests proved to be a recurring challenge, and Aratus was always aware that many competing constituencies, not all of them well intentioned where Achaea was concerned, hankered after the king’s favour. Aratus prospered under Antigonus, but, under his successor, Philip V, who came to the throne in 221 BC, matters ultimately proved less satisfactory, and, near the end of his life, Aratus was no longer a royal favourite. But that was later. In 219 BC Aratus managed to persuade Philip to launch the Hellenic League into a war against the Aetolians, the so-called Social War of 219 to 217 BC. When, however, Philip learned that Hannibal had inflicted a major defeat on the Romans at Lake Trasimene, he preferred to campaign in Illyria, where he hoped, by taking advantage of Carthaginian pressure on Rome, to make himself master of the region and, perhaps, to cross into Italy.8 Consequently, he hastily imposed peace on all the combatants.