ALEXANDER’S YOUTH ACCORDING TO QUINTUS CURTIUS

The kings of Macedon derived their pedigree from Hercules; and Olympias, Alexander’s mother, reckoned the origin of her family from Achilles. From his very infancy he wanted neither allurements or examples to excite him in the pursuit of glory, nor masters to teach him virtue, nor exercise to accustom him to it. For his father, Philip, did by his continual wars raise the reputation of the Macedonians, who, till then were accounted despicable, and by his conquest of Greece, made them formidable everywhere. In fine, he not only laid the foundations of the great things which were done after his death, but even a little before his decease, having resolved to carry the war into Persia, he had levied men, gathered provisions, raised money, and, in short, had an army ready for that expedition; and had actually opened a passage into Asia, by the means of Parmenion.

But in this very juncture he was taken away, as if to leave to his son so great forces to carry on the war, and reap the full glory of it, when it was finished; which seems to have been the contrivance of fortune, who always yielded entire obedience to Alexander alone. This prince was so much in the admiration of all men, not only after he had done so great things, but even at his first setting out, that it was a question whether it were not more reasonable to ascribe the divine original of so great a man immediately to Jupiter himself, rather than mediately to the same god by the Æacidæ and Hercules.

When he went himself to visit the temple of Ammon in Libya, nothing less would content him than to be called his son, as we shall shew in the sequel. Moreover, it was the opinion of many that Alexander was the offspring of a serpent which had been seen in his mother’s bed-chamber, and into which Jupiter had transformed himself; that the credit of his divine pedigree was advanced by dreams and prophesies; and that when Philip sent to Delphi to consult about it, he was admonished by the oracle, to pay the greatest reverence to Ammon. On the other hand, there are those who affirm, “That all this is mere fiction; and that there was reason to suspect Alexander’s mother was guilty of adultery: for that Nectanebus, king of Egypt, who was driven from his kingdom, did not go to Ethiopia, as was commonly believed, but went to Macedonia, in hopes of receiving succours from Philip against the power of the Persians. That he deceived Olympias by the force of magical enchantments, and defiled his landlord’s bed. That from that time Philip had a jealousy of her, and that it afterwards appeared this was the chief cause of their divorce. That the very day that Philip brought Cleopatra into his house, Attalus, his wife’s uncle, took the liberty to reproach Alexander with the baseness of his birth, while the king himself disowned him for his son. In fine, that the constant rumour of Olympias’ adultery was entertained not only in that part of the world, but even among the nations which he conquered. That the fiction of the serpent was derived from ancient fables, on purpose to conceal the ignominy of that princess. That the Messenians had formerly given out the same story concerning Aristomenes, and the Sicyonians concerning Aristodemus.”

In reality the same report was spread abroad concerning Scipio, who was the first that ruined Carthage; and the birth of Augustus was in like manner thought to have had something divine in it. For as to Romulus, the founder of Rome, there is no occasion to say anything of him; since there is no nation so contemptible, but derives its origin either from some god, or the offspring of a god. After all, the flight of Nectanebus does not agree with those times; for Alexander was six years of age, when that prince was vanquished by Ochus, and lost his kingdom and inheritance; but for all this, the tale which is reported of Jupiter, is not the less likely to be false. It is affirmed, that Olympias herself, having nothing to fear after her husband’s death, laughed at the vanity of her son, who would needs have it believed that he was sprung from Jupiter; and begged him in a letter, “not to expose her to Juno’s indignation, seeing that she had been guilty of nothing that deserved that punishment.” However, before that time, she is thought to have been the person that took the most pains to gain credit to this fable, and is said to have admonished Alexander upon his expedition into Asia, “To be mindful of his origin, and do nothing that was unworthy of so great a father.”

But it is generally agreed, that between the conception and birth of that prince, it was signified both by prodigies and divers presages, how considerable a person should be born. Philip saw in his sleep the womb of Olympias sealed up with a ring, on which the picture of a lion was engraved; the memory whereof was preserved by the city of Alexandria in Egypt, which was for a long time called Leontopolis. Aristander, the ablest diviner of that time, who afterwards accompanied Alexander, and was his chief priest, interpreted the dream, and said it signified the magnanimity and courage of the infant. The same night that Olympias was brought to bed, the temple of Diana in Ephesus, the most famous of all Asia, was burnt to ashes. This was done by a profligate villain, who being apprehended and put to the torture, confessed he had no other view in doing it, but to preserve his memory by some great and memorable act of impiety. Wherefore the Magi, who were then at Ephesus, not reckoning so great a misfortune from the loss of the temple alone, but looking upon it as a presage of greater destruction, filled the whole city with mournful exclamations; “That there was a torch kindled somewhere, which, on the like account, and from the same motive, should one day consume all the East.”

Philip being blessed with a son, of whom so many happy omens made him conceive the highest hopes, turned all his thoughts towards his education. For being a wise man, and a lover of his country, he easily perceived that all his endeavours would be to no purpose, if he should leave an ignorant and slothful prince behind him, to govern Macedonia, while things were in an unsettled state everywhere: and that his glory could not be long-lived, if the great things he had begun should be lost and ruined by the weakness or negligence of a successor. Among his letters, that discreet and elegant one which he wrote to Aristotle, who was then at Athens with Plato, is yet extant, and is conceived in words much to this purpose:

“Philip to Aristotle wisheth Health.

“I am to acquaint you, that a son is born to me; nor do I thank the gods so much for his birth, as for his being born in your time. I hope that when he shall have been educated and instructed by you, he shall be worthy of us, and fit to succeed to so great a kingdom. For I think it much better to be without children, than to beget them for a punishment, and educate them to the shame and dishonour of their ancestors.”

Nor was Philip mistaken; for having been long under the direction of Aristotle, the effect was, that the instructions he received from that great master, laid a foundation for, and enabled him to perform all the great exploits which he executed from that time.

When he grew up, there appeared a perfect symmetry in his members, his joints were strong and firm; and being but of a middle stature, he was really stronger than he appeared to be. His skin was white, only his cheeks and his breast were dyed with an agreeable red; his hair was yellow, and went into a gentle curl; his nose was aquiline, and his eyes of different colours: for his left eye is said to have been blue, and his right very black. There was a certain secret virtue in them; insomuch that nobody could look on his countenance without veneration and fear. He could run with wonderful swiftness, which he often practised, even when he was king, as esteeming it of great use in expeditions; and he was often seen to run for a prize with the swiftest persons about him. He bore fatigue with a patience and firmness that even passes belief; and by this one virtue he oftentimes saved both himself and his armies in the greatest extremities. By frequent exercises, and a very warm constitution, he did so purge off any bad humours which commonly lodge under the skin, that not only his breath, but also what he perspired through the pores of his body were sweet, and his very clothes had a fragrant smell; and this was the cause, as some think, why he was so much inclined to wine and passion. Pictures and statues of him are yet to be seen, which were the performances of the best artists. For lest the comeliness of his face should suffer any thing from the unskilfulness of vulgar sculptors or painters, he strictly forbade any to draw his picture without his order, and threatened to punish any one that should disobey it. In consequence whereof, though there was abundance of good workmen, yet Apelles was the only person who had his consent to draw his picture; Pyrgoteles to grave him on precious stones, and Lysippus and Polyclitus to represent him in medals.

His governor Leonidas is said to have walked too fast, which Alexander learnt of him; and never was able to help it afterwards by all his endeavours. I am not ignorant that very much is owing to education, but I am inclined to impute this rather to the temper of that young prince, than to his accustoming himself to it; for it was impossible for one of his ardour and impetuosity of spirit, not to have the motions of his body answerable to it. And this hastiness of his was so far from being accounted an imperfection by his successors, that they studiously affected it, and imitated him therein; as they did in his wry neck, which leaned to his left shoulder, in his piercing look and high voice, being incapable to copy the virtues of his mind. In reality, there were many of them whose long lives had scarce anything in them that deserved to be compared to his childhood. Nor did he ever say or act anything that was mean or base, but all his words and actions were equal to, or even surpassed, his fortune. For though he was most ambitious of praise, yet he did not affect to draw it indifferently from every thing, but would have it arise from things that were most praiseworthy; being sensible that the praise which arises from mean actions is inglorious and dishonourable, and that that victory which is gained over the meanest enemy, is so much the more noble and illustrious. Therefore when some persons told him, “that seeing he was an excellent runner, he ought to list himself among those who were to contend for the prize at the Olympic games, after the example of a king of his name; and that thereby he should acquire a great fame all over Greece”: he answered, “I would certainly do so, if I were to run against kings.”

As often as Philip obtained any signal victory, or reduced any rich and strong place, he could not conceal his grief, amidst the rejoicing of others; and he was heard to complain amongst boys of his own age, “that his father would leave nothing for him and them to do when they came to be men.” For he looked upon every accession of power and riches to be a diminution to his glory, and had a stronger passion for honour than for wealth. He was naturally disposed to sleep but little, and increased his watchfulness by art. If anything happened to him that required serious thought, he put his arm out of the bed, holding a silver ball in his hand, which by its fall into a basin might make a noise, and so disperse that heaviness which was inclining him to slumber. From his very infancy he loved to worship the gods splendidly; and one day as they were sacrificing, he flung so much incense into the fire, that Leonidas, who was a severe and parsimonious man, not being able to bear that profusion, cried out, “You may burn incense in this manner when you conquer the countries where it grows.” Remembering this saying afterwards, when he settled the affairs of Arabia, which produces incense, he sent Leonidas a vast quantity of this perfume, ordering him withal, “to be more liberal for the future, in paying honour to the gods, since he was now convinced that they did plentifully repay the gifts that had been cheerfully made them.”

Aristotle as His Teacher

Aristotle

That he understood the more sublime sciences, is evident from his letter to Aristotle, wherein he complains, “That he had profaned their dignity by divulging their principles.” Upon which, Aristotle excused himself by answering, “That those books were published in such a manner, as that they might be reckoned not published; for that no body would be able to understand the meaning of them, but such as had already been instructed in the principles which they contained.” When Alexander demanded his books of rhetoric, he strictly forbade him to let them come to the hands of any other; for he was no less desirous to excel others in arts and sciences, than in power and greatness; nor could he endure that men of the lowest rank should share that glory with him. Besides, it appears from his letters that he studied physic under one Aristotle, who was the son of a physician, of the race of Æsculapius. But he studied that part of philosophy so well, which teaches a man to command both himself and others, that he is thought to have undertaken the supervision of that vast weight and power of the Persian empire, rather by his magnanimity, prudence, temperance, and fortitude, than by his arms and riches. He frankly owned, “That he owed more to Aristotle than to Philip; for that he was indebted to the one for his life; to the other for that life’s being formed upon the principles of honour and virtue.” Nevertheless, it has been believed by some, not without ground, that his mind, which was so fired with ambition, was yet more inflamed by the too great value which Aristotle set upon honour and glory, which he placed in the rank of things that may be called goods; so that he not only multiplied wars upon wars, in order to extend his dominions, but would needs be looked upon as a god.

Of all the monuments of antiquity, he had the greatest esteem for Homer, who, he thought, was the only person that had perfectly described that wisdom by which empires subsist; and such a passion for him, that he was called Homer’s Lover. He was wont to carry his books always along with him; and even when he went to bed, he put them and his sword under his pillow, calling them “his military viaticum, and the elements of warlike virtue.” He esteemed Achilles to have been happy in finding so great a man to celebrate his virtues.

Having found a most curious casket, both for matter and workmanship, amongst the plunder of Damascus, and his friends having asked him “What use it was most proper for?” he answered, “We will dedicate it to Homer, since it is but reasonable that the most precious monument of human wit should be preserved in the finest piece of workmanship.” From hence the most correct edition of that poet, which Alexander was at much pains to get, was called the “edition of the casket”; because in that casket the Persians had used to keep odours and perfumes. One day as a certain messenger of good news ran towards him, in all haste stretching out his right hand, with the highest marks of joy on his countenance; “What news can you tell me,” says he, “that’s worthy of so much joy, unless that Homer is alive again?” He was then arrived to such a degree of happiness, that he thought there wanted nothing to complete his glory, but one capable to trumpet his praise. By frequent reading of him, he had got almost all by heart; so that no person could quote him more readily or familiarly, or judge of him more justly.

Bucephalus

He showed an extraordinary courage and dexterity, to the great astonishment of his father and others, in managing the horse Bucephalus, which name was given him from his being marked with the figure of an ox’s head. Thessaly was very much famed at that time for fine horses, and great numbers of them were bred in that country, but none of them was to be compared to Bucephalus either for mettle or beautifulness; for which reason Philonicus a Pharsalian, thinking him worthy of the greatest prince in those parts, brought him to Philip, and proposed to sell him for sixteen talents. But when they came to try his speed and management, by riding him out into the fields, there was none of the king’s friends or attendants that durst venture to manage him; for he rose upon them, and frightened all that essayed to mount him, by his fierceness: so that he was now looked upon as unmanageable and useless, upon the account of his wildness: at which Alexander sighing said, “What a fine horse those people lose through their ignorance and cowardice.” After having repeated these words over and over, his father chid him “for finding fault with horsemen that were both older and more skilful than himself, as if he could manage that horse better than they.” To which he answered, “I will manage him better than they, father, if you will give me leave.” Upon this, the father asked him, “What he would forfeit if he could not execute what he had undertaken?” “I will forfeit the price of the horse,” replied he. At this every body smiled, and agreed, “That if he won, his father should buy the horse for him; but if he lost, he should lay down the money himself.” Then Alexander, taking the horse by the bridle, turned him directly to the sun, that so he might not see his shadow; for he had observed, that this frightened him, and made him more untractable. Finding his fury not much abated notwithstanding this, he stroked his mane, laid his cloak aside gently, and jumped upon him at once, though he was foaming with rage. Then Bucephalus, that was not used to obey, began to fling with his heels, and throw about his head, and very obstinately refuse to be guided by the bridle; then he essayed to get loose, and run away full speed. He was then in a spacious plain that was fit for riding in: wherefore Alexander, giving him the rein, and setting his spurs to his sides, rode shouting with all the vigour and fury imaginable. And after he had traversed a vast space of ground, till he was weary, and willing to stop, he spurred him on till such time as his mettle was exhausted, and he became tame; after which he brought him back very gentle and tractable. When Alexander alighted, his father embraced him with tears of joy, and kissing him, said, “He must seek out a larger empire for himself, for that the kingdom of Macedon was too small for so vast a spirit.” Afterwards Bucephalus continued the same fierceness towards others, while he obeyed Alexander alone with a wonderful submission; and after he had been his companion in many labours and dangers, he was at last killed in a battle against Porus.[e]