[323 B.C.]
The Macedonians passed the night after the king’s death under arms, as if feeling themselves surrounded by enemies. The peaceable inhabitants of Babylon, perhaps with better reason, dreaded lest their wealthy city should become the scene of military tumult and licence. They hardly ventured to creep out of their houses to gather news; lighted no lamps in the evening, but watched for the morning in darkness and silence, eagerly listening, and trembling at every sound they caught. The great officers on whom the care of the state chiefly devolved, probably spent the same interval, together or apart, in no less anxious deliberation. By Hephæstion’s death the number of those who bore the title of somatophylax was reduced to seven: Leonnatus, Lysimachus, Aristonous, Perdiccas, Ptolemy (the reputed son of Lagus, but, according to a report rather widely spread, one of Philip’s bastards, his mother having been the king’s mistress), Pithon, and Peucestas. When Alexander died, they were all in Babylon.
The next day they summoned a council of the other Macedonian officers, some of whom were but little inferior to them in rank and influence, to confer on the great question of the succession. The soldiers wished to take part in it also; and, though forbidden, forced their way into the palace, and filled the avenues of the council hall, so that many witnessed the proceedings. There a mournful object met their eyes, and revived the consciousness of their loss—the vacant throne, on which had been laid the diadem, with the royal robes and armour. The sight called forth a fresh burst of lamentation, which however was hushed into deep silence, when Perdiccas came forward to address the assembly. First he placed the ring, which he had received from Alexander in his last moments, on the throne. “The ring,” he said, “was the royal signet, which Alexander had used for the most important state business; it had been committed to him by the dying king, but he placed it at their disposal. It was however absolutely necessary for their own safety that they should forthwith elect a chief, capable of guarding them against the dangers to which they would be exposed without a head in a hostile land. It was to be hoped that, in a few months, Roxane would give them an heir to the throne. In the meanwhile it was for them to choose, by whom they would be governed.” He had probably hoped that the wish which he so modestly dissembled would have been anticipated by general acclamation. But the meeting waited for advice.
Nearchus had a different plan to propose. He, as we have seen, had married a daughter of Mentor’s widow, Barsine; and Barsine was also the mother of a son by Alexander. He therefore pointed out to the Macedonians “that there was no need to wait for the uncertain issue of Roxane’s pregnancy; there was an heir to the throne already born—Hercules, the son of Barsine: to him the diadem belonged.” But Nearchus was the only man present who had any interest in this choice. The soldiers clashed their spears and shields together, in token of vehement dissent; and Ptolemy gave utterance to their feelings on this point: “Neither Barsine, nor Roxane, could be mother of a prince whom the Macedonians would acknowledge as their sovereign. Was it to be borne, that the conquerors of Asia should become subject to the son of a barbarian captive? It was better that the throne should remain vacant, and that the persons who had formed Alexander’s council of state should continue to have the supreme management of affairs, deciding all questions by a majority of votes.” This motion however gained few partisans; its effect would have been permanently to exclude the royal family from the succession: a step for which few were prepared.
Thus most minds were turned towards the advice of Perdiccas; for there was a clear distinction between Barsine, and Roxane, Alexander’s beloved wife, who was then in the palace, while Mentor’s widow had been left with her son at Pergamus. It was now the right time for some friend of Perdiccas to come forward in his behalf, and Aristonous, perhaps according to previous concert, undertook the task. He observed “that Alexander himself had already decided who was worthiest to command, when, having cast his eyes round all his friends who were at his bedside, he gave his royal signet to Perdiccas. They had only to ratify Alexander’s choice.” Still the assembly was not inclined to invest Perdiccas alone, under any title, with supreme power. The result of the whole deliberation was a sort of compromise between the proposals of Ptolemy and Aristonous. It seems to have been decided, but not without clamorous opposition, that, if Roxane should bear a son, he should succeed to the throne; and that in the meanwhile four guardians should be appointed for the future prince to exercise the royal authority in his name. Perdiccas and Leonnatus were to be regents in Asia, Antipater and Craterus in Europe.
The cavalry—the aristocratical portion of the army—acquiesced in the resolution of their chiefs. But it was very ill received by the whole body of the infantry. No motive appears for their dissatisfaction, except that they had not been consulted on the question, and that they wished to dispose of the crown. Still it is not clear whether they acted quite of their own accord, or were excited to resistance by Meleager, who seems to have been impelled, partly by ambition, and partly by personal enmity to Perdiccas. The accounts remaining of his conduct are contradictory as to details, but agree in representing him as the leader and soul of the opposition. According to some authors, he quitted the council of the officers after bitter invectives against Perdiccas, declaring that the people was the true heir of the monarchy, and alone could rightfully dispose of it, and hastened to instigate the soldiery to insurrection and plunder. According to others, he was deputed to appease their discontent, but took the opportunity to inflame it, and placed himself at their head. We are left equally in doubt whether it was he who first proposed another competitor for the throne, whose name was soon mentioned in the popular assembly.
This was Arrhidæus, a son of Philip, by Philinna, a Thessalian woman, who is commonly described as of low condition. Arrhidæus was either naturally deficient in understanding, or had never recovered from the effects of a potion, said to have been administered to him by Olympias, whom jealousy rendered capable of every crime. It seems that Alexander, either through prudence or compassion, had removed him from Macedonia, though he had not thought him fit to be trusted with any command; and he was now in Babylon. Most probably Meleager, perceiving that whoever should raise such a prince to the throne would reign under his name, was the foremost to recommend him as the sole legitimate heir. To the army Arrhidæus must have been personally indifferent; but he was Philip’s son, without any mixture of barbarian blood, and, which probably weighed more with them, he would be purely their creature. The proposal therefore was agreeable to their pride and their prejudices, which were stronger than their regard for Alexander now, as they had been in his lifetime. After a short pause—perhaps of surprise that a name so seldom heard should have been put forward on such an occasion—all, as if some happy discovery had been made, broke out into loud acclamations in favour of Arrhidæus; and Pithon, who, it seems—having apparently been sent by the council to soothe them—endeavoured to show the folly of their choice, only incurred their resentment. Meleager was deputed to bring the prince into the assembly; and, when he came, they saluted him as king, under the new name of Philip. He immediately proceeded to the palace, accompanied by Meleager, and escorted by the troops. The officers, it seems, were still in council there, and when Arrhidæus appeared, some attempt was made to terminate the affair by discussion. But as the chiefs refused to sanction the choice of the infantry, they soon found themselves threatened with violence, and obliged to retire. Arrhidæus mounted the throne, and was invested with the royal robes.
PERDICCAS, MELEAGER, EUMENES, AND THE PUPPET KING
Perdiccas had ordered the door of the room where Alexander’s body lay to be locked, and prepared to guard it with six hundred chosen men; he was joined by Ptolemy at the head of the royal pages. They were however soon overpowered by superior numbers. The soldiers of the adverse party broke into the chamber; blows were interchanged, Perdiccas himself was attacked with missiles, and blood was beginning to flow, when some of the elder among the assailants interposed, and, taking off their helmets, entreated Perdiccas and his followers to desist from their useless resistance.
