Predecessors of Cleopatra

by Leigh North

Separation and the life of constant excitement which he led may have lessened the hold of Roxane upon Alexander’s affection and a sudden passion for other women have overtaken him, but it is more probable that motives of policy dictated his subsequent course.

At Suza occurred what was called “the great marriage of Europe and Asia.” Planned by Alexander to celebrate his victories and perhaps to hasten the return of peace and good-will. He took to wife Statira, daughter of Darius, and some authorities say, also Parysatis, daughter of Ochus, brother of Darius and one of the last Persian kings of Egypt. He coerced or persuaded his officers to follow his example, and not one but many marriages were then performed.

So intent was Alexander on his purpose that he put a premium on such connections and promised to pay the debts of those who would take Persian wives. At this time Ptolemy, later king of Egypt, was united to a certain princess Aatakama, daughter of Artabanes, of whom we find no further mention, suggesting that these enforced unions were not lasting, and were perhaps regarded by their principals as a mere spectacular performance, or even a comedy. These nuptials were celebrated with great magnificence the banqueting hall was laid with tables for numberless guests and was gorgeously decorated. Pillars of gold and silver, set with jewels, upheld the awning above, and nothing that Eastern luxury could suggest was spared to embellish the feast. According to the Persian custom a row of armchairs was placed for the bridegrooms and one beside each for the brides, who came in procession, fair to look upon, in beautiful and shining garments, enhanced by all the appliances of the toilette, and took each her place beside her lord.

It was a marriage of fatal import to all concerned. We can imagine the jealous passion aroused in the breast of Roxane at the sight or report of all this, doubtless in striking contrast with her own simple nuptials, jeopardizing as it did the right of succession which might be claimed by her own children, yet unborn. Perchance the new queen added fuel to the flame by a haughty demeanor, a half-concealed or openly expressed contempt for the barbarian chief’s daughter who had preceded her. Be this as it may, Roxane rested not till, with the aid of Perdiccas, one of Alexander’s generals, she had her put to death. The story goes that after Alexander was dead she sent a forged letter to Statira, either as coming from him or with purport that he was still alive and got Queen Statira into her power and caused both her and her sister, perhaps the before-mentioned Parysatis, to be murdered and their bodies thrown into a well and covered with earth. Having thus disposed of a hated rival, she rested in fancied security, but her own destruction eventually avenged this cruel deed.

The life of Alexander, lived too fast, and with little regard perhaps either to the laws of health or morality, came to a speedy close. He died 323 B. C. Either ignorant of or indifferent to the approaching birth of a child of his own, he is said to have left his kingdom to “the worthiest,” or some say “the strongest”—the first a person far to seek in the midst of such a grasping blood-thirsty throng. Some months after Alexander’s death Roxane bore a son, who was named Alexander Aegus, and the infant, in conjunction with Alexander’s natural brother Philip Arridaeus, apparently a man of weak intellect, were nominally kings, under the regency of Perdicas, or Perdikkas, one of Alexander’s most prominent generals. No such giant succeeded the heroic figure, almost that of a demi-god, whose life had just closed, and the conglomerate kingdom which he had created fell into numerous fragments or divisions.

Roxane evidently could play the part of a Margaret of Anjou and her subsequent history is but a pitiful tale. She and her son fell into the power of the generals, who, like vultures, settled upon their prey. No noble emotion of protecting the helpless stirred in their breasts. It was a period of the world’s history in which weakness courted its own destruction. “Might was right,” a theory not altogether known in modern times, was the general rule of existence and some years after Alexander’s death Roxane and the young Alexander were put out of the way to make room for the grasp of stronger hands than those of a woman and child.

At first the spoilers called themselves Satraps, but eventually claimed or accepted the title of king. Ptolemy took Egypt; Seleucus, Babylon and Syria; Antigonus, Asia Minor, and Antipater, Macedon, later conquered by descendants of Antigonus; Lysimachus took Thrace; Leonatus, Phrygia; and Eumenes, Cappadocia.

Alexander Aegus, like Caesarion, son of Cleopatra VI of Egypt, was never allowed to succeed his father, but his life was cut short in youth. Mother and child were simply used as pawns on the great chess board of kings and when their existence interfered with the designs of those in power they were disposed of. The then known world was in a tumult, war was the order of the times, peace almost unknown. The uprising and overthrow of one power and of one individual after another was continuous, the pages of history were stained with the blood, alike of the guilty and the innocent.

The years succeeding the death of Alexander must have been ones of anxiety, if not of absolute terror to Roxane, and the possibility of a violent death for herself and her child could not but have suggested itself to her. Nominally wife and mother of a king, she enjoyed little of the pleasures of state, but was hurried here and there and from camp to camp with scant ceremony. A possession too valuable to those who held her to let her go and in the end too valuable to keep.

The disposal of Alexander’s body was a matter of dispute. A counsel of officers decreed that it should be buried in the Oasis of Amon, where Alexander had been adopted by the god; Perdikhas wished that it should be laid with the ancient Macedonian kings, while Ptolemy was determined that it should rest in Alexandria, the new city. Ptolemy triumphed and the sarcophagus of gold remained there for some time; we do not know how long. Diodorus says “a coffin of beaten gold was provided, so wrought by the hammer as to answer the proportion of the body. It was half filled with aromatic spices, which served as well to delight the senses as to preserve the body from putrefaction. Over the coffin was a cover of gold, so exactly fitted as to answer the higher part every way. Over this was thrown a curious purple coat, near to which were placed the arms of the deceased, that the whole might represent the acts of his life.” This was placed on a magnificent chariot adorned with figures, symbolic designs, arches, floral designs in gold and funerary urns, an absorbing spectacle to the people. It seems almost strange that so much honor was paid to the body of Alexander, so little to his very flesh and blood.