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  

The Vivid Feast Of Prince Seuthes of Thrace

Xenophon (c. 420-350 BCE) was one of those special ancient authors who not only wrote down for posterity the events of his time, but also recorded it in an absorbing way that pulls the reader into the atmosphere of daily life in his long-gone age. He did not simply discuss what the competing states were doing in his day, but also described in vivid detail the feelings and experiences of the people in these regions—the decadent lives of courtiers, the attitudes of common warriors, and the goings-on of civilians all fell into his scope. Xenophon’s insight into the different sections of society was greatly enlightened by his own colorful career. An Athenian scholar (who studied under Socrates), a landed aristocrat, and a mercenary captain who worked with royalty in Persia, Thrace and Sparta, Xenophon’s personal experiences gave his works incredible depth and life.

One such vivid scene of daily existence was Xenophon’s description of a feast hosted by Prince Seuthes of Thrace. The year was 399 BCE, and Seuthes had just hired the mercenary company to which Xenophon belonged. To celebrate their partnership, Seuthes invited the commanding officers of the mercenaries to a banquet with himself and his courtiers. In his Anabasis, which covered the mercenary company’s career from 401-399 BCE, Xenophon wrote down what he and his comrades saw as they joined the Thracians for the feast:

“The dinner guests included the most high-ranking of the Thracians who were there, the Greek generals and company commanders, and envoys from various communities. Once they had gone inside, they were seated for the meal in a circle, and then three-legged tables were brought in for everyone. There were about twenty of these tables and they were laden with slices of meat joined by skewers onto huge loaves of risen bread. For the most part, the tables were placed, according to Thracian custom, by each of the guests” (Anabasis, 7.3).

Along with the tables of food, the Thracian prince also provided each guest his own horn of wine, handed out by cup-bearers. The host also had on hand a band of musicians playing horns and trumpets, as well as some comedians or jesters, who were eventually given the stage in the course of the evening. When all the pieces of the banquet were in place, Xenophon watched with amusement as the Thracian prince started off the feast with an interesting local custom:

“Seuthes initiated the proceedings as follows: he picked up the loaves which had been served in front of him, broke them into small pieces, and tossed the pieces to whichever of the guests he felt like. Then he did the same with the meat, leaving himself only morsels. Once he had finished, everyone else who had a table placed near by did the same. But an Arcadian called Arystas, who had a prodigious appetite, could not be bothered with throwing pieces of food around: he just picked up a three-choenix-sized loaf, put some meat on his knees, and began to eat” (Anabasis, 7.3).

After everyone had their fill of the food, the drinking and socializing continued. In time, courtiers among the banqueters began to offer gifts to Seuthes. The presents greatly differed in size and value—a silver goblet, a carpet, a white horse and a slave were all reportedly handed over to Seuthes during the course of the evening. Xenophon, however, was caught off guard by the gift-giving and, having brought nothing, improvised a speech to make up for his lack of an offering. His gift, he claimed, would be the land and wealth soon to be delivered to Seuthes by the mercenary company.

As the drinking continued, the group became quite merry. By the end of the feast, Xenophon, who was “a little tipsy” (Anabasis, 7.3), gave a public and long-winded pledge of friendship to the Thracian prince. Yet, Xenophon was not the only one feeling jolly—he wrote, “Seuthes also stood up on his own, yelled out a war-cry, and with great agility performed a vigorous dance which simulated the dodging of missiles” (Anabasis, 7.3).

Although they were all evidently having a great time, the mercenaries kept a strict schedule. When the sun began to set, the mercenary officers at the banquet proclaimed that they had to take their leave to prepare their army’s nighttime security. After ceremoniously sprinkling out the last drops of wine from the feast, Prince Seuthes gave the mercenaries a counter-offer, suggesting that they set off on their campaign that very night. According to Xenophon, the mercenaries accepted the proposal and they all began their march around midnight.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Scene depicting Achilles from Pompeii, c. 1st century, [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.

The Thynian Night Raid On The Forces Of Prince Seuthes Of Thrace

In 399 BCE, Prince Seuthes (a future Thracian king) hired around 7,000 experienced Greek mercenaries to further his interests in a region to the northwest of Byzantium. The mercenary company that he employed had just spent the last three years, 401-399 BCE, marauding through Babylonia, Mesopotamia, Armenia and the southern coast of the Black Sea. These spears-for-hire were now starting to weary of war (and thus they expected great pay), but, on the other hand, they were an incredibly experienced and effective army. Xenophon—the philosopher, historian and accomplished mercenary—was at this time the most influential general of the mercenary force, and he wrote down their exploits (including the campaign with Seuthes) in his Anabasis.

According to Xenophon, Seuthes’ goal for hiring the mercenaries was to conquer independent tribes that had once been ruled by his father, Maesades. These tribes included the Melanditae, the Tranipsae and the Thynians, of which the last group was Prince Seuthes’ first target. The Thracian nobleman and his mercenaries began their invasion at midnight, reaching a mountainous region with several villages by noon on the next day. Seuthes immediately attacked the villages, which were unprepared and did not put up much of a fight. According to Xenophon, “about 1,000 captives were herded together, along with 2,000 oxen and 10,000 sheep and goats as well” (Anabasis Kyrou, Book 7, section 3).

After capturing these villages and enslaving anyone who was not able to flee, Seuthes set fire to the towns and moved closer to the mountains. There were more villages near the forested slopes, but these were virtually deserted, as the inhabitants had reportedly withdrawn to secluded camps on the mountainside, intending to take a guerrilla warfare approach to Seuthes’ invasion. The Thracian prince promised the Thynians on the mountainside (through captives sent as messengers) that no harm would come to them if they returned to their villages and lived peacefully as his subjects. Women, children and elderly did indeed return to the villages, but the Thynian warriors remained on the mountain. Seuthues, in order to starve out these insurgents, sent his mercenary forces to occupy the villages closest to the mountains. When Xenophon and his troops reached the towns, some young warriors were still there and a few were killed, but most of the Thynian fighters were able to flee deeper into the mountains.

With the Thynian warriors quarantined to the mountains, the forces of Seuthes spread out among the villages. The Thracian prince brought his personal troops back down into the plains and camped in the more docile region. Xenophon and the mercenaries, however, remained at the villages closest to the mountains. Around this time, the guerrillas from the mountainside sent representatives to Seuthes to discuss a truce. Other representatives also visited the mercenary camp on a similar mission to broker peace. Yet, these diplomats also served another purpose—they were gathering intelligence on the occupation camps and were at the same time reconnecting with their contacts in the villages. Consequentially, on a night not long after the negotiations began, Thynian warriors silently poured out of the mountains and crept toward the villages, where, as had been planned, they were let into the villages by sympathizers and guided to the homes where the mercenary leaders were staying. When the assailants were in place, they began hurling spears and javelins into the building, while also setting the structures on fire. Xenophon, who awoke to the disembodied voices of the Thynians taunting him by name, described his perspective of the night raid:

“Flames were just beginning to be visible through the roof, and Xenophon and his men were inside, with their breastplates on and equipped with shields, swords, and helmets. Then Silanus of Macistus, who was eighteen years old, blew a blast on his trumpet and they immediately dashed out of the house with their swords drawn. The Greeks in the other houses did the same, and the Thracians [Thynians] ran away, with their shields swung round on their backs, as is their custom. Some of them got their shields snagged on the stakes as they tried to leap over a stockade and were caught hanging there; others were killed because they could not find their way out of the village” (Anabasis Kyrou, Book 7, section 4).

Thanks to their quick and calm response to the attack, the experienced mercenaries were able to turn the potentially disastrous night raid of the Thynians into a great victory for the Greeks. Curiously, when the sounds of battle erupted, Prince Seuthes rushed over to aid the mercenaries with only a reported seven horsemen and one trumpeter. Yet, after the mercenaries had everything under control, the Thracian prince soon brought his entire force to the mountain villages, and soon after, the guerrillas agreed to become Seuthes’ subjects.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (The Archers, painted by Bryson Burroughs (1869-1934), [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.

Many Ancient Greeks Believed Earrings Were A Sign Of Weakness

In ancient Greece, a man wearing earrings could be accused of being weak or—gods forbid—of being womanly. The wearing of earrings was often associated with the Anatolian region of Lydia, which was long characterized by the Greeks as a place made soft by luxury. Herodotus summed up the Greek view of Lydia in this quote on Cyrus the Great’s pacification of the Lydians: “let the Lydians be pardoned; and lay on them this command, that they may not revolt or be dangerous to you; send, I say, and forbid them to possess weapons of war, and command them to wear tunics under their cloaks and buskins on their feet, and to teach their sons lyre-playing and song and dance and huckstering. Then, O king, you will soon see them turned to women instead of men; and thus you need not fear lest they revolt." (The Histories, Book I, section 155).

This Greek disapproval of earrings, and prejudice against Lydians, reappeared in Xenophon’s Anabasis Kyrou (Upcountry March/Expedition of Cyrus), in which he documented the experiences of a Greek mercenary army, called the Ten Thousand, that was caught up in an ill-fated rebellion of Cyrus the Younger of Persia. By book III, section 1 of that text, the Greek mercenaries found themselves in dire straits—Cyrus the Younger was slain, the Greek mercenary generals had been arrested or executed, and angry Persian satraps were stalking the Greeks like vultures. The mercenary army, stranded deep in Persian territory without their chief generals, camped with an uncertain future awaiting them in the morning. Yet, although the generals were gone or dead, many of their second-in-commands and company commanders were still alive and with the army. Fortunately for the rest of the Ten Thousand, around 100 of these surviving mercenary officers convened to decide what the mercenary company should do next.

Xenophon was one of the men present and he would later take command of the mercenary army’s rear guard. According to Xenophon, there was a man named Apollonides at the officer meeting, who argued that the mercenaries should surrender to the Persians. Xenophon claimed that he personally rebuffed Apollonides’ opinion by referencing the recent executions of the mercenary generals and called Apollonides an oaf and a fool, not qualified for any military position except that of baggage handler. According to Xenophon, another officer at the meeting took a much more personal jab at Apollonides. This second attack involved both earrings and Lydia. A certain Agasias of Stymphalus reportedly proclaimed before the gathered officers, “ he [Apollonides] doesn’t belong in Boeotia or anywhere in Greece: he has both ears pierced, Lydian-style—I’ve seen them.’ This was true, [stated Xenophon] and they evicted the man from their company” (Anabasis Kyrou, Book III, section 1).

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Painting from the House of Marcus Fabius Rufus in Pompeii, Italy, executed in the Second Style and depicting the Greco-Roman goddess Venus Aphrodite, c. 1st century BCE, [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.
• The Histories by Herodotus, translated by Aubrey de Sélincourt and revised by John Marincola. New York: Penguin Classics, 2002.
• http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Roman/Texts/Herodotus/1C*.html
   

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.

The Honey Of Madness In The Pontic Mountains

The Pontic Mountains in northern Anatolia gained a fearsome reputation in the ancient Greek and Roman world. Curiously enough, the region’s notoriety was in large part due to its not-so-sweet honey. In fact, several ancient armies unfortunately discovered that some of the honey produced in the Pontic Mountains could be poisonous and mind altering.

In Greece, the mad honey of the Pontic Mountains was popularized by Xenophon, an Athenian philosopher, historian and mercenary, who personally encountered the honey while serving with a famous mercenary company, known as the Ten Thousand. A Persian prince named Cyrus the Younger hired the mercenary company in 401 BCE for a failed revolt against King Artaxerxes II. When Cyrus was killed and his revolt crushed, the Greek mercenaries found themselves alone and unwelcome in the vicinity of Babylonia. While being pursued by Persian forces and ambushed by local tribes, the Greeks weaved their way through Mesopotamia and Armenia to reach the Pontic Mountains, from which they could see the Black Sea. Nearby was the Greek-inhabited coastal city of Trapezus, but the Greeks could not reach it in a single day, and would have to camp in the mountains for several days until they neared the coast.

After having defeated a militia of Colchians, the mercenaries encountered very little resistance during their march to Trapezus. They took a detour to some villages on the mountainside, and no one stopped the Greeks from helping themselves to the local supplies. In particular, the mercenaries were delighted to find an abundance of beehives and honeycomb around the villages. Yet, the honey would turn out to be potentially more dangerous than local militias. Xenophon vividly described the scene that occurred after the Greeks ate their fill of the honey:

“all the men who ate honeycomb became deranged, suffered from vomiting and diarrhea, and were too weak to stand up. Those who had eaten a little behaved as though they were drunk, while those who had eaten a lot behaved like madmen, or even like people on the point of death. The ground was so thickly covered with supine men that it looked like the aftermath of a defeat, and morale plummeted” (Anabasis, Book 4, section 8).

Fortunately for Xenophon and the Greek mercenaries, the worst effects of the honey wore off after 24 hours, and the group was able to resume their march to Trapezus after a few more days of rest. Several centuries later, however, a Roman army in the region had less luck with the honey.

According to the Roman geographer and historian, Strabo (c. 64 BCE-21+ CE), Pompey the Great lost a portion of his army to the effects of the mad honey in the Pontic Mountains. In 66 BCE, he had been assigned to command Roman forces against King Mithridates VI in Pontus. When Mithridates committed suicide in 63 BCE, Pompey had a fairly free hand in reorganizing the region.

One particular community in the Pontic Mountains gave Pompey difficulty. Strabo identified this group as the Heptacometae, which he believed was linked to a certain Mossynoeci people that Xenophon and the Ten Thousand encountered centuries earlier. According to Strabo, the Heptacometae weaponized the poisonous honey of the Pontic Mountains and successfully used it in war against a portion of Pompey’s army. Strabo wrote:

“The Heptacometae cut down three maniples of Pompey's army when they were passing through the mountainous country; for they mixed bowls of the crazing honey which is yielded by the tree-twigs, and placed them in the roads, and then, when the soldiers drank the mixture and lost their senses, they attacked them and easily disposed of them” (Geography, Book 12, chapter 3, section 18).

Interestingly, scientists in the late 19th century claimed to have solved the mystery of the honey. In a 1889 study, the maddening properties in the Pontic honey were attributed to andromedotoxin that bees picked up from a local variety of yellow-flower rhododendron (Rhododendron luteum). Honey produced in May and June from bees in regions dominated by the Pontic rhododendrons apparently had a concentration of andromedotoxin that was high enough to make it dangerous to consume.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Cupid the Honey Thief by Albrecht Dürer (1471–1528), [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://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Roman/Texts/Strabo/12C*.html#ref45
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Pompey-the-Great

The Ancient Dance-Off Of Mercenaries Outside Of Cotyora

A Greek mercenary company known to history as the ‘Ten Thousand’ joined the rebellious Cyrus the Younger in a revolt against the Persian King Artaxerxes II in 401 BCE. Within the year, however, the rebel prince was dead and the mercenaries found themselves stranded near Babylon, with Persian armies and hostile local militias in all directions. Despite the original mercenary leaders being arrested and executed, the Ten Thousand managed to continuously break through roadblocks, mountain ambushes, and guarded river crossings, eventually reaching the eastern end of the Black Sea by 400 BCE. Xenophon—the philosopher, historian and accomplished mercenary—was a leading member of the Ten Thousand, and he later documented their story in his Anabasis Kyrou, translated as Cyrus’ March Up Country or The Expedition of Cyrus.

Upon reaching the Black Sea, the mercenaries gained some more room to breathe. Earlier, in Mesopotamia and the mountains of Armenia, the mercenaries had been constantly pursued by Persian or local armies. On the Black Sea coast, however, the mercenaries were seemingly able to pick and choose their fights. Yet, as the mercenary company was always foraging the countryside for provisions (and loot), there was still plenty of conflict between the warriors-for-hire and the inhabitants of the lands through which they were marching.

The Paphlagonians, an Anatolian people who lived near the Greek colonial city of Sinope, were one of the many regional powers that the mercenaries irritated as they foraged along the Black Sea coast. The mercenary company encountered the Paphlagonians near the city of Cotyora, where, according to Xenophon, the mercenaries stayed for forty-five days. The Ten Thousand (now actually about 8,600) quickly overstayed their welcome, and diplomats from Cotyora’s ally, Sinope, sailed over to keep the mercenaries in line. With a mixture of threats and diplomacy, the mercenaries convinced Sinope and its allies to lend them a fleet of ships so that they could sail back to Greece. Yet, while the mercenaries waited for their transports, the foraging and pillaging continued.

As Xenophon described it, “while they continued to wait, the Greeks supported themselves either by buying food from the market or by plundering the territory of the Paphlagonians” (Anabasis Kyrou, Book 6, section 1). The Paphlagonians, however, did not relinquish their resources without a fight. They repeatedly set up ambushes against the Greek raiders during the day, and at night they attacked any scavenging parties that made the mistake of resting in Paphlagonia. The conflict was tiresome for both sides. Therefore, when the Paphlagonian leader sent diplomats to negotiate a non-aggression pact, the mercenaries eagerly accepted the proposal and held a feast in honor of the Paphlagonian ambassadors.

The feast outside of Cotyora was one of the more charming scenes of life and humanity presented in the Anabasis Kyrou. To start off the revelries, a libation was poured out for the gods, then, between eating and drinking, they sang songs together, accompanied by musicians playing pipes. With wine flowing and music playing, the diverse band of mercenaries decided to have a dance-off of their different cultural dances.

A pair of Thracians were the first to jump to their feet and dance to the sounds of the pipes. According to Xenophon, the Thracians unsheathed their blades and began jumping in time with the music. As they jumped, they took turns jabbing at each other with their swords. The dance ended with one of the two dancers pretending to be stabbed. The ‘wounded’ Thracian put on quite the show, falling to the ground with dramatic flair. When the dancer was done acting out his death scene, his Thracian comrades lifted him up and carried him away, all the while singing battle songs.

Next to dance was a group of Aenianians and Magnesians from the Thessaly region of Greece. They put on a show, called the karpaia, which was even more choreographed than the one performed by the Thracians. Xenophon described the scene as a mock highway robbery where the dancers played the part of a farmer and a thief. Accompanied by the pipe music, the dancers acted out the encounter between assailant and victim, then rhythmically went to battle in time with the tune. The dance apparently had a bit of improvised acting at times, for Xenophon claimed that the victor between the farmer and the thief varied in each performance. Nevertheless, in the dance that Xenophon witnessed, the thief won the battle and stole the farmer’s possessions.

After the dancing thief’s success, an acrobatic Mysian from northwest Anatolia stepped forward to showcase a blend of physical exercise and Persian dance. He carried a shield in each hand and used them in all of his dances. Sometimes, he held the shields out to his sides, as if fending off two attackers. Other times, he had both shields defending a single direction. When the shield shadowboxing was over, the Mysian (still wielding his shields) began rolling around in somersaults. Finally, he began a strenuous dance involving squats and the clashing of shields, all in time with the music, of course.

The Mysian was succeeded by a group of Greek Arcadians—they, along with the Achaeans, were the most populous demographic of the mercenary army. Dressed to impress in their best armor, the Arcadians launched into a religious song and dance that was usually meant to be done in ceremonial processions. As with the other performances, the dancing Arcadians were accompanied by the untiring pipe players. The Arcadians may not have been as imaginative as the others in their choice of dance, but the Paphlagonians nevertheless found it entertaining. This would have been the final dance of the feast if the Arcadians and the Mysian had not plotted one last performance—one that would be the crowd favorite, by far.

One of the Arcadians had with him a professional dancing-girl. The Mysian obtained permission from the Arcadian to dress the dancing-girl in a brilliant set of armor, a shield, and presumably a weapon. The Arcadian agreed and the dancing-girl was equipped in war gear and brought before the feasting mercenaries. With the eyes of the warriors on her, the dancer gracefully threw herself into her own rendition of the famous Pyrrhic dance, one of the most popular war dances of the Greek world. The mercenaries greatly enjoyed watching the dancing-girl’s performance, or perhaps they simply enjoyed watching her. Nevertheless, according to Xenophon, she received the loudest applause of the night. The Paphlagonians, it was said, found her war dance to be so convincing that they were certain that she fought alongside the mercenaries during battles.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (A Pyrrhic Dance painted by Lawrence Alma-Tadema (1836–1912), [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.

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