Showing posts with label Persia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Persia. Show all posts

Sunday, March 1, 2020

The Fatal Fire-Fetching Of Euchidas



In 480 BCE, the Greeks defeated Xerxes’ Persian forces at sea in the Battle of Salamis. This strike turned into a one-two punch, when the Greeks followed up their success by defeating the Persians on land at the Battle of Plataea. Although the Greco-Persian Wars were in no way over, Plataea was such an overwhelming victory for the Greeks that it prompted the Persians to start withdrawing from Greece, and they would not launch another major invasion into the Greek heartland for the remainder of the conflict. After winning the battle at Plataea, the Greeks knew how significant a victory they had won, and several altars and temples were planned to commemorate and celebrate the blessed fortune that the Greeks had received that day. The people of Plataea and other Greeks sponsoring the altars consulted the Oracle of Delphi for advice on what should be done to set up the new religious sites. In response, the Plataeans were told that their city needed to be purified—to do this, Delphi encouraged the Plataeans to send someone to fetch a torch of fire from the Delphic altar and bring it back to ignite a sacred fire on the newly-built altar of Zeus in Plataea.

For this holy task, a certain Euchidas was chosen to retrieve the torch from Delphi and transport it back to Plataea. Eager to complete the auspicious task in an honorable and timely manner, Euchidas set off at a run, refusing any horses or other forms of transportation. He reached Delphi in record time, giving himself leeway to carefully observe any rites of purification that he needed in order to be qualified to carry the holy torch. With firebrand in hand, he sprinted back toward Plataea, making such good time that he was able to reach the city by sunset on the very same day that he had originally left Plataea. With his mission complete, Euchidas succumbed to the fate shared by all too many runners of folklore and legend—he collapsed to the ground and died.

Plutarch (c. 50-120), the great Greek-Roman biographer, recorded the tale of Euchidas in his biographical essay on Aristides. His account of the tale was as follows:

 “Euchidas, a Plataean, promising to fetch fire, with all possible speed, from the altar of the god, went to Delphi, and having sprinkled and purified his body, crowned himself with laurel; and taking the fire ran back to Plataea, and got back there before sunset, performing in one day a journey of a thousand furlongs; and saluting his fellow-citizens and delivering them the fire, he immediately fell down, and in a short time after expired” (Plutarch, Life of Aristides, section 20).

Euchidas’ collapse and death was not the end of his story. Due to his impressive athletic feat and the great religious service he had done for Plataea, Euchidas’ body was reverently brought to a local temple of Artemis and interred with great honors. According to Plutarch, his tomb featured an account of his deed, which stated, “Euchidas ran to Delphi and back again in one day” (Life of Aristides, section 20).

Written by C. Keith Hansely

Picture Attribution: (Image from page 87 of "The antique Greek dance, after sculptured and painted figures" (1916), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • Plutarch’s Lives edited by Charles W. Eliot in the Harvard Classics series. New York: P. F. Collier & Son, 1909, 1937.
  • http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Roman/Texts/Plutarch/Lives/Aristides*.html 
  • https://www.britannica.com/event/Battle-of-Plataea 
  • https://www.ancient.eu/Plataea/ 
  • https://thedelphiguide.com/euchidas-of-plataea/

Wednesday, December 11, 2019

One Supposed Way Kavadh I Of Persia Counted His Slain Warriors



From ancient times until the modern day, governments have long prized keeping statistics and catalogs of their resources. In a war-torn age, numbers concerning manpower and military size are especially of interest. Kavadh I (r. 488-496, 498-531), a ruler of Sāsānian Persia, lived in one such age of prevalent warfare and he reportedly took very seriously the task of calculating the number of his warriors who did not return from battle. To aid him in this grim task, Kavadh I reportedly encouraged his military to follow an interesting tradition that resulted in a tangible and visible representation of how many people were lost.

According to the historian Procopius (c. 490-565), Kavadh’s warriors were required to submit a token of sorts to the Sāsānian Persian government before they left on campaign. The historian suggested that these relinquished items were usually small weapons, and if the Persian ruler was present, the warriors would place these tokens in containers set before their leader. Procopius described the alleged ceremony: “the king sits on the royal throne, and many baskets are set there before him; and the general also is present who is expected to lead the army against the enemy; then the army passes along before the king, one man at a time, and each of them throws one weapon into the baskets” (History of the Wars, I.18). After the troops passed by, the many filled baskets were reportedly sealed up, labeled, and placed in a safe location. The baskets (and the tokens locked inside) would not be retrieved until the army returned from its campaign.

As the story goes, once news of an army’s return from battle reached the Persian court, officials would race off to wherever they stored the sealed tokens to retrieve the respective baskets for the homebound army. Then, as Procopius claimed, “when this army returns to Persia, each one of the soldiers takes one weapon out of the baskets. A count is then made by those whose office it is to do so of all the weapons which have not been taken by the men, and they report to the king the number of soldiers who have not returned” (History of the Wars, I.18). Therefore, the unclaimed tokens left in the baskets could be tallied up for a broad number of who was lost in the war from that particular army, be it from death, capture or desertion. Of course, it would be just as easy to write down a head-count of the warriors, themselves, before and after their campaign, or to collect records from the officers who led the forces into battle. Yet, Procopius’ proposed ceremony, if it indeed was put into use, would certainly create a striking visible representation of the human cost of war.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Convivial meeting of Kai Khosrow by Hossein Qollar-Aqasi, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • History of the Wars by Procopius, translated by H. B. Dewing. Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1919.

Tuesday, November 12, 2019

The Odd Tale Of The Ascetic, Jacobus, And His Confrontation With A Persian Army



According to the historian Procopius (c. 490-565), an interesting figure named Jacobus flourished in the late 5th and early 6th centuries. This Jacobus, it was said, hailed from Syria, but chose to end his days in a place called Endielon, located not far from the important Byzantine (Eastern Roman) fortress of Amida (near Diyarbakir, Turkey). Jacobus was a devoutly religious man with ascetic tendencies, and after living in the community at Endielon for some time, he ultimately decided to live out the remainder of his life in a religious cell. Supportive of his decision, Jacobus’ neighbors reportedly built for their resident hermit a roofed shelter in which he could live. The walls of the structure apparently resembled fencing, built with gaps in the barrier so that Jacobus could receive food and conversation from visitors. With the blueprint set, Jacobus entered his loosely built enclosure and let his friends set up the final pieces of the cage.

Jacobus likely thought his life from then on out would be nothing but peace, quiet and tranquility. World events, however, thwarted Jacobus’ plans and instead brought chaos to his isolated enclosure. By 502, the Byzantine (Eastern Roman) Empire and the Sāsānian Empire of Persia were at war, and the area in which Jacobus lived was a hotspot of the conflict. Persian forces invaded the region and laid siege to the fortress of Amida between 502 and 503. As Jacobus’ cage could reportedly be reached after only a day’s journey from Amida, Persian scouts or scavengers inevitably found the hermit.

When the Persians discovered the peculiar cage, they approached it cautiously, keeping their bows and arrows at the ready. As the story goes, when the warriors saw that there was a person inside the structure, their first impulse was to loose their arrows and kill whoever was residing in the odd shelter. Yet, upon closer inspection, something suppressed their initial violent impulse. Perhaps, it was Jacobus’ friendly demeanor or his emaciated physique (he had reportedly been living off only seeds). Whatever the case, the Persians apparently could not bring themselves to kill the hermit, and therefore they left him in peace. As the Romans had been driven from the region, the Persians must have also taken up the task of making supply drops for the caged man.

News of the hermit’s existence spread quickly through the ranks of the Persians at Amida. As the story goes, even the Persian king of kings, Kavadh I (r. 488-496, 498-531), the Sāsānian ruler at that time, was interested in seeing the recluse. Kavadh I allegedly traveled to Jacobus’ cage and talked with the man, opening up the conversation by apologizing to the hermit for the incident where Persian troops almost shot arrows at the cage. As recompense, the Persian king supposedly offered to grant a single wish that the hermit might request. Accepting this deal, Jacobus asked for sanctuary and safety to be given to any refugee from the region who camped by his cage at Endielon. According to the historian Procopius, King Kavadh I granted the request “and gave him a written pledge of his personal safety. And great numbers of men, as might be expected, came flocking to him from all sides and found safety there; for the deed became widely known” (The Wars, 1.7).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Recluse Reading, painted by Carl Spitzweg (1808–1885), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • The History of the Wars (Book I) by Procopius, translated by H. B. Dewing (Harvard University Press, originally published 1914).
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Kavadh-I 
  • http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/kawad-i-reign  

Friday, July 19, 2019

The Covert Night Raid Of Xenophon Against A Well-Guarded Persian Tower




In 399 BCE, the philosopher, historian and mercenary, Xenophon, was in the last year of his famous adventure with the so-called Ten Thousand. The Ten Thousand, as the name suggests, was a Greek mercenary company of over 10,000 warriors that had joined the rebellion of Cyrus the Younger of Persia in 401 BCE. Unfortunately, the rebellion failed and the mercenaries had to fight their way through hostile territory in Babylonia, Mesopotamia and Armenia until they reached the Greek-populated city of Trapezus on the eastern edge of the Black Sea. Their journey was not over, however, as the army had to keep marching westward along the shore, passing by Cerasus, Cotyora, Sinope and Heraclea as they marched for the city of Chrysopolis on the Bosporus. From there, the army (now reportedly numbering about 7,000 men) crossed over to Byzantium, reaching the city around 399 BCE.

At the start of the expedition, Xenophon was not a leader of the mercenaries. Yet, during the march of the Ten Thousand, he was elected by his peers to a position of leadership, and his influence over the army seemingly only increased as time went on. When the Spartan authorities in Byzantium wanted the mercenaries to do a task, they delivered their messages to Xenophon, and when the mercenary army went into the service of Prince Seuthes of Thrace in 399 BCE, the Thracian nobleman treated Xenophon as its main leader.

The mercenary contract in Thrace did not last long, and before the end of year 399 BCE, Sparta had once more hired the mercenary company and shipped them back over to Anatolia. Due to campaigning with the Thracians and rising rates of desertion, the mercenaries that crossed over to Anatolia now numbered between 5,300 and 6,000 men. Xenophon went with his troops back into Persian territory, but like many of his war-wearied comrades, he was beginning to consider other options outside of the mercenary company. In preparation of this move, he let the Spartans take more direct control of the mercenaries. In his memoir of the events, Xenophon (in third person) wrote, “The Spartans took over the booty and set about raising money by appointing quartermasters to do the selling. They incurred a great deal of criticism for their actions in this matter. Meanwhile, Xenophon stayed away and made no secret of the fact that he was getting ready to go home” (Anabasis Kyrou, Book 7, section 7). Nevertheless, as Xenophon marched with the army toward Pergamum, he kept his eyes and ears open for any last schemes to boost his wealth and prestige.

When the army reached Pergamum, Xenophon learned of some information that piqued his interest. During a conversation with one of the city’s prominent Greek families, Xenophon learned of a wealthy Persian named Asidates who lived nearby. The Persian, and his family, reportedly dwelled in a tall tower that oversaw vast pastures full of livestock that were tended to by hundreds of workers or slaves. Guards were known to watch over the farmstead, but Xenophon was assured by his contacts that a band of 300 stealthy warriors would be able to overpower any guards and capture the wealthy Persian, his livestock, and his workers, without any problem. With this tempting information on his mind, Xenophon had a sacrifice performed and the omens read. After the ceremony, the diviner concluded that the gods were favorable to the plan, and Xenophon was so pleased with the answer that he did not bother to do any more reconnaissance work.

Encouraged by the sacrifice, Xenophon reportedly invited a select few of his friends to join him on the mission and also brought in the most dependable and experienced troops from the company. Friends, however, had told other friends, and before long, many in the mercenary camp knew about Xenophon’s upcoming tower heist. When it came time for the raiders to meet at their rallying point, Xenophon was shocked to find over 600 men awaiting his command. After picking the troops he wanted for the clandestine mission, Xenophon and his raiders set out for the tower of Asidates, guided by two informants.

They forded at least one river and marched through the plains of Mysia, finally reaching their target around midnight. Xenophon, in his usual style, vividly described the scene as he and his troops silently crept toward the tower:

“It was close to midnight when they reached the place. The slaves, who were kept around the outside of the tower, ran away, as did most of the livestock, but the Greeks ignored them because they wanted to capture Asidates himself and his personal belongings. But the tower, which was massive and tall, fortified with battlements, and well defended by large numbers of good fighters, proved impossible to take by direct assault. Instead, they attempted to tunnel into the tower through the wall, which was eight clay bricks thick” (Anabasis Kyrou, Book 7, section 8).

Xenophon did not mention if they had planned on the possibility of having to drill through a wall, or if they had brought the equipment needed to do the job. Whatever the case, the mercenaries were loath to leave empty-handed, so they diligently began chipping away at the brick. As they had to remain quiet enough to not wake the tower guards, Xenophon and his comrades made slow progress on the wall. They continued their work for the rest of the night, and the first sunrays of dawn were already peeking above the horizon when the mercenaries finally completed a hole large enough to squeeze through. Yet, by this time, the awakening residents of the tower had become suspicious. Just as the raiders were beginning to creep through the tunnel, someone on the inside jabbed a spear-like object through the hole, stabbing a thigh of an unlucky mercenary. Unfortunately for Xenophon, things were about to get worse.

As soon as the residents and defenders of the tower discovered that they were under attack, they began shooting arrows at the mercenaries from the battlements and through the tunnel. In addition to the staunch defense posed by the tower, Xenophon and his raiders soon heard the unnerving sounds of feet and hooves coming from another direction. Asidates must have been more important, or more powerful, than Xenophon was originally led to believe, for a force of over 1,000 Persian infantry and horsemen, who were apparently camped or patrolling nearby, came rushing to the tower’s aid as soon as the noise of battle rang out.

Stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place, Xenophon decided that his only option was to flee. The thwarted mercenary raiders began to run for their lives in the direction of Pergamum. Yet, Xenophon and his companions were still not willing to leave empty-handed, so they captured any workers they could grasp, and herded off all of the animals that were in their path. The mercenaries made a square formation around this last-minute plunder and tried to hold onto their loot while desperately fending off the pursuing Persian horsemen and archers.

Meanwhile, back in Pergamum, some of the people who knew of Xenophon’s plan, but did not go, were now worried about their comrades and marched off with their own force in the direction of Mysia. These reinforcements met Xenophon’s beleaguered band at a river running through the region of Teuthrania. By this point, Xenophon’s raiding party was in a sorry state—half of the warriors in the square formation had been wounded by the still-pursuing Persians. The sight of Greek reinforcements, however, caused the Persian force to finally end its chase. Thankfully for Xenophon, none of his wounded men reportedly died. Better yet, they managed to successfully capture around 200 of Asidates’ workers, as well as enough animals to perform a few sacrifices.

Xenophon took a day to rest after his return from the disastrous raiding attempt. Yet, once that day was done, he rallied his whole mercenary force in an effort to seek revenge against Asidates. Word apparently spread that the mercenaries were bent on revenge, so the Persian fled from his tower and hid near a town called Parthenium. Xenophon described his efforts to capture the elusive Persian, proudly stating of himself, “Xenophon and his men came across him there and captured him, his wife, his children, his horses, and everything he had. And so the omens of the earlier sacrifice turned out to be true” (Anabasis Kyrou, Book 7, section 8).

After capturing Asidates and everything he held dear, Xenophon returned to Pergamum. There, still in the year 399 BCE, Xenophon relinquished control of the mercenary army to a Spartan commander named Thibron and finally parted ways with the mercenary company.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (modified Tower of Babel by Pieter Bruegel the Elder (1526 1530–1569), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • Anabasis Kyrou (The Expedition/Upcountry March of Cyrus) by Xenophon and translated by Robin Waterfield. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005.
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Xenophon 
  • https://www.ancient.eu/xenophon/ 
  • https://www.encyclopedia.com/people/history/historians-ancient-biographies/xenophon 
  • https://referenceworks.brillonline.com/entries/brill-s-new-pauly/teuthrania-e1205860  

Monday, June 3, 2019

The Disastrous Launching Of A Mercenary Army From Byzantium in 399 BCE



A band of Greek mercenaries known as the ‘Ten Thousand’ joined the rebel army of Cyrus the Younger in 401 BCE against King Artaxerxes II of Persia. Before the year was over, the rebellion was crushed at the Battle of Cunaxa in Babylonia and Cyrus was dead. The band of Ten Thousand that was serving with the rebellion, however, remained virtually unscathed. From 401-400 BCE, the mercenary army traveled through the hostile lands of Mesopotamia and Armenia, all the while fending off ambushes and skirmishes by Persian satraps and local militias. The mercenary army finally arrived on the Black Sea coast around 400 BCE, where they were glad to find Greek-populated cities, such as Trapezus, Cerasus, Cotyora, Sinope and Heraclea. By this point, the mercenaries had more room to breathe, and, with the threat of the Persian army reduced, the mercenaries became increasingly more undisciplined and rowdy. The Greek cities on the coast of the Black Sea quickly became annoyed with the mercenaries’ antics—they tried their hand at piracy near Trapezus, murdered some elders in Cerasus, raided the villages of Cotyora, threatened Sinope for ships, and attempted to extort money from Heraclea. Yet, to the relief of the cities, the mercenary army kept traveling and eventually camped at Calpe Harbor, where they fended off one last attack from the Persians. The mercenaries then traveled to the city of Chrysopolis, where they were ferried across the Bosporus to Byzantium, the seat of power for the local Spartan governors.

It was around 399 BCE when the Ten Thousand (now reduced to a little over 7,000) reached Byzantium. Evidently, the wearied troops were in need of a break from campaigning, and were in favor of returning to their homes in Greece proper or resting in Byzantium. The Spartan naval commander of the region, Anaxibius, however, was in no way eager to see the mercenary company stay in Byzantium—rightly so, after the trouble the mercenaries had given the other Greek cities along the Black Sea coast. Anaxabius reportedly hoped that the mercenaries would disband, but, when that did not happen, the next best option was to promptly send the army away from the city. If the Spartan commander could push them into Thracian lands in Europe, all the better—for it would be a show of good will toward the irritated Persians. Therefore, Anaxibius quickly shooed the mercenaries from Byzantium and gave the generals of the company orders to march the troops to the Thracian Chersonese, where the local Spartan authorities would buy their services. As a final measure, once the mercenaries were herded outside of the city walls, Anaxabius had a veteran Spartan general, Eteonicus, bar the gates of Byzantium shut.

Although the plan of marching to the Chersonese was known to the mercenary company’s generals (including Xenophon, the most famous source for these events), the average spear-for-hire in the army was not privy to that information. Perhaps, the bulk of the army thought they would be marching back to their homelands in Attica or the Peloponnesus. Nevertheless, word soon spread to the common footmen that they were not heading home, but marching toward a new campaign in Thracian land. When this news was disseminated, the men were not happy at all—in fact, the army broke into complete chaos.

According to Xenophon, he and the shocked mercenary generals faced a complete mutiny. The troops refused to march and instead grabbed their weapons and rushed back to the gates of Byzantium. The aforementioned Spartan general, Eteonicus, had by now shut the gates and the mercenaries could only bang on the doors in vain. Yet, the stubborn warriors were not to be stopped, for they traced their way along the walls all the way to the shore of the sea, where they crossed the breakwater into the city. With enraged mercenaries now inside and outside of the city, the Spartan garrison of Byzantium (including Anaxibius and Eteonicus) withdrew to a defensible acropolis. The mercenaries inside the city then broke open the gate for the rest of the army still outside. Xenophon described the chaos inside Byzantium as the mercenaries poured in: “The sight of the troops forcing their way into the city made the people of Byzantium evacuate the marketplace and run for their ships or their homes, while those who were indoors ran out into the streets and others set about launching the city’s war fleet, trusting the triremes to keep them safe” (Anabasis Kyrou, Book 7, section 1). Before long, the mercenaries had control of all Byzantium except the acropolis. Just as the Spartan commander, Anaxibius, was considering calling in the garrison of Chalcedon, the mercenary generals finally brought their wild troops to order and quarantined themselves in a field within the city.

The mercenary generals were miraculously able to talk their way out of their army’s bizarre occupation of Byzantium without any immediate consequences from Sparta. The calmed mercenaries once more withdrew from the city and allowed the Spartan governor and naval commander of Byzantium to warily leave their acropolis stronghold. To the relief of Byzantium, the mercenaries marched off into Thracian land and set up a camp near some villages. Yet, not all of the mercenaries had left Byzantium. According to Xenophon, 400 mercenary stragglers who refused to leave Byzantium were arrested and sold into slavery by the Spartan authorities.

Written By C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Metellus raises the siege, painted by Armand-Charles Caraffe (1762–1822), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • Anabasis Kyrou (The Expedition/Upcountry March of Cyrus) by Xenophon and translated by Robin Waterfield. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005.

Tuesday, April 30, 2019

The Sacrifice Dilemma At The Battle Of Marathon



By 490 BCE, King Darius I of Persia had brought Ionia, Thrace and Macedonia under his influence and began his presumptive next phase of subjugation by sending an expeditionary force into Euboea. The Persian expeditionary force (estimated to have numbered anywhere from 15,000 to 30,000 troops) crossed over to Attica, where they were intercepted by an army of around 10,000 Athenians and Plataeans on the plains of Marathon. Herodotus claimed that the Greek forces gave sacrifice to the gods before the battle and watched for omens, which, when found, were interpreted as signs of a good outcome. Although not mentioned by Herodotus, Athenian tradition and future historians (such as Xenophon and Plutarch) claimed that one of the religious actions taken by Athens before the Battle of Marathon was a vow to the goddess, Artemis, that, if Greece should prove victorious, they would sacrifice to her a number of animals equal to the number of Persians killed in the battle. When they made this sacred vow, they likely did not know just how big a task they were arranging.

According to Xenophon and Plutarch, Athens promised to sacrifice young goats (kids) to Artemis. Yet, in the scholia to Aristophanes’ The Knights, it was claimed that the Athenians actually promised oxen to the goddess. Whatever the case, promising either goats or oxen, the Greeks charged against the Persians, hoping that their vow of a future sacrifice would bring the gods over to their side. The ensuing Battle of Marathon would become one of the most famous engagements of the ancient world and a key point in the development of a panhellenic Greek identity—it would also, unfortunately, lead to the deaths of untold numbers of livestock.

The Greeks won a major victory at Marathon, and, despite being greatly outnumbered, they reportedly only lost 192 men in the battle. In contrast, Herodotus claimed that 6,400 Persians were killed, which was seemingly calculated on the assumption that a hundred Persians were slain for every three Greek deaths. Although Herodotus gave the Greeks a favorable statistic for the number of Persian dead, many the of historian’s ancient Greek peers apparently believed Herodotus’ account of the Battle of Marathon was maliciously unembellished. For instance, Plutarch wrote in his essay, The Malice of Herodotus, that the statistic of Persian dead should be increased from Herodotus’ claim of 6,400 to one in which “the number of the dead [is] appearing infinite” (section 26).

In any case, whether or not the number of Persian dead was closer to six thousand or infinity, the Athenians owed Artemis an incredible number of sacrificial animals. Although the account from the scholia of Aristophanes claimed the Athenians had originally promised oxen, the story went on to propose that Athens downgraded to goats after they discovered just how many Persians they had killed. Faced with the challenge of rounding up and sacrificing thousands of goats, the Athenians decided to make a pragmatic emendation to their vow with Artemis. Instead of sacrificing the goats in bulk, they made the decision to offer the sacrifices in yearly increments. Writing around a century or more years later, Xenophon (c. 420-350 BCE) commented on the subject, claiming, “They had made a vow to Artemis that they would offer her in sacrifice a goat for every enemy soldier they killed, but they couldn’t find enough goats and so they decided to sacrifice five hundred a year, and they are still carrying out this annual sacrifice” (Anabasis, Book 3, section 2). Most ancient sources agreed with Xenophon that the sacrifices were in increments of 500, but Aelian, in his Various History, claimed that the yearly sacrifices amounted to the favored Greek number of 300.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Pheidippides giving word of victory at Marathon, painted by Luc-Olivier Merson (1846–1920), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • Anabasis Kyrou (The Expedition/Upcountry March of Cyrus) by Xenophon and translated by Robin Waterfield. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005.
  • http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A2008.01.0352%3Asection%3D26 
  • https://www.britannica.com/event/Battle-of-Marathon 
  • https://www.ancient.eu/marathon/ 
  • https://www.livius.org/articles/battle/marathon-490-bce/the-significance-of-marathon/ 
  • https://www.nationalgeographic.org/thisday/sep12/battle-marathon/ 
  • https://www.history.com/topics/ancient-history/battle-of-marathon  

Sunday, April 21, 2019

Cyrus The Younger Should Have Remembered To Wear His Helmet!



Cyrus the Younger was the ambitious son of King Darius II (r. 423-404 BCE) and a younger brother of King Artaxerxes II (r. 404-358 BCE). Cyrus and Artaxerxes II were both born from Queen Parysatis, but she reportedly showed clear favoritism for Cyrus. With the help of his doting mother, Cyrus the Younger was appointed by his father as the political and military ruler of Lydia, Cappadocia and Phrygia in Anatolia. As governor of those regions, Cyrus helped the Peloponnesians win the Peloponnesian War (ended 404 BCE) against the Athenian Empire, earning the Persian prince many powerful friends in Greece. In 401 BCE, after Darius II had died and was succeeded by Artaxerxes II, Cyrus the Younger hired around 14,000 Greek mercenaries, and mobilized a greater number of additional forces from his own domains. With his army, estimated to be between 70,000-100,000 men by ancient sources, but reduced to 20,000-30,000 warriors by modern estimates, Cyrus marched out of Anatolia, through Syria and trekked into Babylonia, hoping to overthrow his brother and seize the Persian throne.

Somewhere along the Euphrates River, at a site called Cunaxa, Cyrus the Younger was intercepted by the royal army of King Artaxerxes II, a force claimed by the ancients to have been between 400,000-900,000 strong, yet modern estimates have reduced the number to about 60,000. Whatever the case, Cyrus’ army was greatly outnumbered—Xenophon, a mercenary in the rebel army, wrote that Artaxerxes’ battle line extended so far beyond that of Cyrus that the rebel left flank was in danger of being surrounded from the get-go. Nevertheless, the Greek mercenaries (on the rebel right wing) charged forward against their opponents. Cyrus, too, in a scene that would make the future Alexander the Great proud, led a cavalry charge straight for his brother, Artaxerxes. According to sources on both sides of the conflict, Cyrus’ charge succeeded in breaking through rows of Persian warriors and he triumphantly reached his foe. The brothers exchanged blows, but Cyrus was the first to draw blood. He struck Artaxerxes on the chest with his spear, leaving a wound that the king’s doctor, Ctesias, reported was five centimeters deep. King Artaxerxes II was reportedly knocked off his horse by the impact of the blow and he was promptly carried away for medical treatment.

With the Greeks making progress on the right wing, and Cyrus victorious in the duel against his brother, the rebel army was poised for greatness. Yet, Cyrus the Younger had failed to heed the advice given to all children who pedal bicycles and leather-clad adults who ride motorcycles—the prince had tragically forgotten to wear his helmet. Xenophon (on Cyrus’ side) wrote that the prince simply chose not to wear any protective headgear into battle, whereas Ctesias (on Artaxerxes’ side) claimed that Cyrus rode into battle wearing only a poorly-fitted royal tiara that fell from his head early on during the battle. Consequently, at the climax of the battle, just after unhorsing Artaxerxes, Cyrus the Younger had no protection against a javelin or dart that came flying toward his head. Xenophon and Ctesias agreed that the projectile slammed into Cyrus’ head, hitting somewhere near the level of the prince’s eyes, although they disagreed on whether the weapon flew in from the front or the side. Despite the horrific wound, Cyrus continued to cling to life for some time after the blow, but he eventually succumbed to his injury and fell from his horse, dying not long after. When news of his death spread, Cyrus’ Persian followers fled the battlefield, leaving the Greek mercenaries alone in Babylonia with an angry Persian king, but the march home of these so-called Ten Thousand is a story for another day.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Battle of Cunaxa and the retreat of the 10,000, painted by Adrien Guignet (1816–1854), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • Anabasis Kyrou (The Expedition/ Upcountry March of Cyrus) by Xenophon and translated by Robin Waterfield. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005.
  • http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/cyrus-vi-younger 
  • https://www.livius.org/articles/person/cyrus-the-younger/ 
  • https://www.encyclopedia.com/reference/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/cyrus-younger 
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Cyrus-the-Younger 
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Artaxerxes-II 
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Darius-II-Ochus  

Sunday, April 14, 2019

The Intense Ancient Mercenary Exposition At Tyriaeum



There is a certain appeal to taking a date to a scary, but controlled, environment—this is true today with horror movies and haunted houses, but ancients apparently had the same inclinations. Therefore, when Queen Epyaxa of Cilicia asked her romantic pursuer, Prince Cyrus the Younger, to parade his army near the city of Tyriaeum, the Persian royal decided to rig his show with the ancient equivalent of a jump scare.

Ancient sources claimed Cyrus’ army in 401 BCE was between 70,000-100,000 men strong, but modern estimates have reduced the numbers to 20,000-30,000 warriors. Of these troops, there were about 14,000 Greek mercenaries, and among them was the famous Xenophon. The task of scaring the daylights out of the people of Tyriaeum was left to these Greek spears-for-hire, and, after Cyrus’ orders were distributed by translators, the mercenaries eagerly accepted the job.

Cyrus the Younger marched his army to an open field near Tyriaeum and had his imperial and mercenary troops line up as if for battle. Queen Epyaxa and other onlookers amassed by the plains to see the exposition. Merchants and vendors also set up stalls to sell anything that the onlookers might need during the show. With everyone in place, the spectacle began. The cavalry and infantry recruited from Cyrus’ domains paraded past their leader (and the awed crowd), with the cavalry arranged in squadrons and the footmen divided into their companies. The Greeks, however, remained motionless in their phalanxes. They were an intimidating sight, completely outfitted in their helmets, breastplates, cloaks and greaves, while also carrying their gleaming shields and deadly spears. Finally, with all eyes on the Greeks, Cyrus signaled for the mercenaries to execute the pre-arranged plan.

Xenophon masterfully painted the memorable scene with his words: “The generals passed these orders on to their men, and when the trumpet sounded they advanced with their weapons levelled. Soon they were moving faster and faster, until with a shout the soldiers spontaneously broke into a run and charged towards the camp. This terrified the barbarians: the Cilician queen fled in her carriage and the merchants in the market abandoned their wares and ran away, while the Greeks, hugely amused, dispersed to their tents” (Anabasis Kyrou, Book I, chapter 2).

Although she was initially frightened, Queen Epyaxa emerged from the safety of her carriage as soon as she realized the Greeks were not coming to kill her. To Cyrus’ delight, Epyaxa enjoyed the show and even accompanied the army for around eight days after the parade. Yet, as the army marched closer to the Cilician Gates to Syria, Cyrus instructed her to leave—he had not raised an army just for fun. The warriors and mercenaries had been raised in rebellion against King Artaxerxes II, Cyrus’ brother. The average mercenary, however, was not told of the real reason behind the expedition until they had reached Babylonia, when it was much too late to leave Cyrus’ ill-fated rebellion.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Heroes of the Battle of Marathon, painted by Georges Marie Rochegrosse (1859–1938), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • Anabasis Kyrou (The Expedition/ Upcountry March of Cyrus) by Xenophon and translated by Robin Waterfield. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005.
  • http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/cyrus-vi-younger 
  • https://www.livius.org/articles/person/cyrus-the-younger/ 
  • https://www.encyclopedia.com/reference/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/cyrus-younger 
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Cyrus-the-Younger 
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Artaxerxes-II 
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Darius-II-Ochus