READING HALLTHE DOORSOF WISDOM |
ANTIGONUS GONATAS |
CHAPTER VI.
THE COMING OF THE CELTS
When Ephoros wrote the first universal history, he
rounded off the world as he knew it with four blocks of largely unknown
peoples: Ethiopians on the south, Indians on the east, Scythians on the north,
and on the west, lying along the pathless ocean, Celts. His knowledge of the
Celts was of the vaguest, and in the rhetoric of himself and his followers they
were posed as people of gentle manners, Philhellenes, devoted to the refining
influences of music,—a sort of fourth century counterpart of Homer’s blameless
Ethiopians. And more exact information was slow in finding its way to Greece. Dionysius
I had used Celtic mercenaries as early as 368, and had allied himself with
Celtic stems against the Etruscans; Agathocles of Sicily had also employed
Celts; Alexander, before starting for Asia, had received an embassy from some
Celtic tribe, men who talked to him a good deal about their own courage, but in
whose friendship he may have found, during his absence, a useful counterpoise
to the turbulent Illyrians on his frontier. Kassandros is said to have besieged
a Celtic clan who had fortified a camp in the Haemus, and another tribe
threatened Thrace during Lysimachus’ reign. This about sums up the actual
knowledge of the Celtic world which at the beginning of the third century was
possessed by the Greek world east of Marseilles. Marseilles no doubt knew a
good deal more; but Marseilles was somewhat apart from the main currents of
Greek life and thought, and she sometimes knew too much to be readily believed,
as the reception given to the narrative of her very great traveller Pytheas shows.
Long before the fourth century, Celtic tribes had
outgrown their early homes in the north and had set out southward to win
themselves new countries. It had been a wandering of the peoples that took long
years to fulfil, but the upshot had been the settlement of races, afterwards
known to Greeks and Romans as Celtae, in large parts
of Gaul and of the north of Italy, of Spain and of the British Isles, in the
valley of the Upper Danube, and over much of Central Europe, Bavaria, Wurtemberg, Bohemia. These were the Celts of the first
migration. Their more southern tribes, in the valleys of the Po and the Danube,
adopted a settled life and made advances in civilization; their state of
culture can be seen in that of the period known to archaeologists as that of La Tene. To a large extent they began to amalgamate with
the natives of the conquered countries, a process easily traced in the case of
Caesar’s Celtae in Gaul and of the Gaelic-speaking
peoples of the British Isles. Whether the Celts of the first migration included
relatives of the Goidels no less than of the Brythons, q men as well as p men; whether q men can be traced on the
continent at all; whether the Celts were indeed divided into q men and p men till a much later date,—these things are matters of controversy, of which
the existence alone need be noted here.
In the fourth century the North again became
straitened for room. Very vaguely, great migrations can be discerned, initiated
perhaps by the tribes afterwards known as Germans, heretofore cooped up at the
base of the Schleswig-Holstein peninsula, but already, with a brave and
overflowing population, beginning that great expansion which in the course of a
few centuries was to break down all the barriers of the civilized world. The
Germans seem to have displaced a number of tribes dwelling between the Elbe and
the Rhine, and these drove forward upon Central Europe, starting movement after
movement in widening circles, like a stone thrown into a pond. Wild fighters,
as yet untouched by the civilization of the settled lands, these tribes fell on
the settled Celts, here driving them out, here collecting and sweeping them
forward on their onward march, here again entering their service as mercenaries
against the common foe. The Greeks and Romans were to know them as Belgae or Galatae; they are the Celts of the second migration. Both
names, Celtae and Galatae,
soon came to be used indiscriminately; it could hardly be otherwise, when the
men of the new migration brought with them men of the old. Some of the
new-comers conquered and settled Belgium, Northern France, and the south and
east of England, even gaining a footing in Ireland; others crossed the Alps and
fought hard fights with Rome; others again followed down the ancient highway of
the Danube, drawn by the storied treasures of the yet untouched world beyond
the Balkans. These presently crossed the Danube and turned southward; a legend
remains which perhaps narrates how one of their chief tribes, the Scordisci, was led across the great river by a woman. Their
first new conquest, some time in the fourth century,
was Pannonia, the country to the north-west of Illyria, comprising the eastern
part of Austria and the western part of Hungary. From here they continued to
follow the right bank of the Danube, fighting with the Illyrian tribes already
in occupation: one body conquered the Autariatae, who
occupied Bosnia, Servia, and the northern part of Albania, another the Ardiaei of Dalmatia. These movements brought them fairly
within the purview of the Macedonian monarchy.
It was unfortunate for Macedonia that her king at the
time was Ptolemy Keraunos, a man surrounded by foes, overconfident and rash,
and doubly branded as a perjurer and a murderer. It has been conjectured that
one of his enemies may even have persuaded the Celts to attack him; but in fact
the Celts needed no persuading. Pressure from behind, and the need of a new
home, drove them on even more certainly than the desire for plunder. The Illyrian
tribes, whose lives for generations had consisted in border warfare with their
Macedonian neighbours, recognized that both peoples were involved in a common
danger; and the king of the Dardanians offered to Keraunos the aid of 20,000
men, an aid which he is said to have declined in insulting terms, saying that
Macedonia would no longer be Macedonia if, after conquering Asia by herself,
she could not guard her own marches without help from Dardania.
The Dardan king promptly took counsel for his own safety, and joined the
invaders.
These swept forward in three bodies, each doubtless
led by different tribes. The first host, under a chief named Belgius or Bolgius, was destined
to invade Macedonia by way of Illyria and the Aoos pass; the second, under Brennus and Acichorius, was to overrun Paionia, follow up the Axios, and
enter Macedonia by way of the Iron Gate; the objective of the third, under Cerethnus, was Thrace. The leaders were followed by a mixed
multitude; settled Celts from Austria and the Danube, Illyrians like the Autariatae and the Dardanians, Thracians like the Maedi, slaves of every nationality-armed and unarmed, traders
and camp followers, with a long convoy of wagons bearing the women and
children, the household goods and the plunder; while at their head marched the
half-wild Galatae from the North Sea, men mighty of
limb, their strong rough-hewn faces, so strange to Greek eyes, surmounted by
huge shocks of red hair, their throats circled by gold torques, men who in
action flung away target and plaid and charged half naked with their
claymores, as their kinsfolk in Britain were to do later at the Battle of the
Standard and on many another field.
Their aim was to find a new land in which to settle.
Plunder was by the way; they did not bring their women and children and
household goods with them merely for the
sake of plundering. In part too they effected their object. The Scordisci were to succeed in founding a kingdom in Servia,
with its capital at Belgrade; an unknown tribe or tribes were to establish in
Thrace the realm known as that of Tylis; three other
tribes, the Tectosages, Trocmi,
and Tolistoagii, were to settle as complete political
units in Asia Minor. It is well, in considering Brennus’ campaign in Greece, to
bear in mind what the ultimate object of the Galatae was.
What manner of men these Gauls really were is a little
difficult to understand. We have only the accounts of enemies—enemies who were
at first half mad with terror, and who took a long time to attain to a juster and more sober judgement; and terror is a state of
mind which hardly makes for impartiality. An elaborate portrait of the Gaul at
large can be put together from the Greek writers, the main lines of which can
be summed up in one word, instability; but something seems wanting to a true
picture, something that perhaps will have to be supplied, not by the historian,
but by the poet. Instability in all its forms may be but the common attribute
of all peoples at a certain stage of emergence from barbarism. No enemy ever
questioned Gallic courage; and if many of their women resembled Chiomara, they could have taught some of the facile queens
of Hellenism a valuable lesson. A people whose war-leader was named
‘Rede-giver’ must have had at any rate a dim idea that there were matters more
to the point than mere blows. Their poetry they had already begun to make; they
had bards, who chanted lays before the host, lays perhaps akin to those which
afterwards, in another land, were to grow into the story of the heroic feats of
Cuchulainn or the witching charm of Deirdre; even as, centuries before, other
fair-haired Northerners had burst in on an older Greece, with songs of the
glorious deeds of their heroes, songs perhaps akin to those from which grew the
mighty tale of the wrath of Achilles.
That these Gauls were aggressive and undisciplined,
quarrelsome and vain, drunken and passionate,—these things mattered little to
the world. But the Greek writers bring against them the definite accusation of
cruelty; and the accusation is perhaps true in the main, though it is to be
remembered that the literary men of the third century did not confine this
reproach to the Gauls. But we do know that their contemporaries were in fact
terrified by the idea of their cruelty; a picture of it remains, doubtless not undercoloured. In the horrors of the sack of Kailion; the accusation goes on echoing through the Roman
poets till the last days of the Western Empire. We need not accuse the Greek of
cant in the matter. It is easy enough, in both Greek and Macedonian history, to
pick out cases of what seems to us to be horrible cruelty. But, on the whole,
manners were softening in the third century. It was no longer customary, on
taking a town, to slay the men and sell the women and children for slaves;
though the right of the conqueror to do this was undoubted. It was no longer customary, even to sell the
men into slavery in lieu of death; and when this undoubted right was exercised,
as for instance by Antigonus Doson and the Achaean League in the case of
Mantineia, it provoked a storm of protest, which we can still hear raging in
the pages of Polybius. When we do meet with sheer downright cruelty, such as
that of Philip V at Abydos, it strikes us as something monstrous.
The tendency of the age was in another direction. It
can be seen in the number of asyliai that begin to
grow, places inviolable, immune from the operations and cruelties of warfare; a
movement into which Delphi, always ready to use her influence to humanize war,
heartily threw herself. It can be seen in the innumerable boundary-arbitrations
that appear in the inscriptions of this time. Nothing had caused more fighting
between city states than disputed territory; and every one of the numerous
arbitration awards now met with is a strangled war. It can be seen again in a
new note of chivalry in war, largely due to the great Macedonians. The conduct
of Philip II in liberating his Athenian prisoners without ransom; the conduct
of Alexander to the family of Darius; the courtesies of Demetrios toward the
Rhodians during the great siege; Pyrrhus’ treatment of his Roman prisoners; Antigonus’
treatment of Pyrrhus’ son; these things all tended to make war somewhat less dreadful.
Even the universal employment of mercenaries was in the nature of a gain; they
fought hard, but without the personal hate and bitterness that citizen troops
had used to import into their fighting. In particular, it is difficult to see
how far the movement in favour of arbitration might not have gone in the Greek
world, had it not been swamped, with so much else, in the monstrous wake of Rome.
We can see, in fact, that the insistence of the Greek writers on the cruelty of
the Gaul means, not that there was anything very specially cruel about the
Gaul, but that Greece resented the phenomenon of the natural man
again obtruding himself on a society that was beginning to outgrow his ways.
Belgius was the first of the Gallic leaders to enter
Macedonia, in the spring of 279, after feeling his way with an offer of peace
for cash down, an offer which Keraunos naturally rejected with scorn. But
Keraunos had not the patience to wait for his levies; he met the Gauls at the
head of a few troops, was defeated and slain, and his army cut to pieces. Panic
ruled in Macedonia; men flocked into the towns, and the towns closed their
gates; the barbarians at any rate would not understand siege works. Keraunos’
brother, or uncle, Meleagros, was made king by the
army, and deposed by it after two months as incompetent; it thereon offered the
crown to Kassandros’ nephew Antipatros, who met the same fate for the same
reason after forty-five days, having gained nothing but the scornful title of Etesias, king of the Dog-days—the period for which his rule
had lasted. Thereupon one Sosthenes, a Macedonian, who was of humble birth but
had perhaps been one of Lysimachus’ generals, took command of the army; he
succeeded in reorganizing it, and inflicted a check upon the second Celtic host
under Brennus, now attempting to enter the country. The army would have made
him king; but he refused the perilous title, and had the troops take the oath
to him merely as general de facto. He seems to have been an able man,
and for more than a year he held Macedonia together as far as possible; but he
could not keep back Brennus, or prevent the outlying parts of the country
breaking off. Paionia was in Brennus’ hands,
Kassandreia and perhaps other cities were virtually independent; and in a
second battle Sosthenes was defeated by Brennus and compelled for a time to
abandon the open country. Belgius now drops out of the
story; according to one account, he left Macedonia with his plunder; Brennus
henceforth appears to hold undivided command. It appears, however, that he had
lost a good many men in his battles with Sosthenes, and perhaps considered that
to attempt to maintain himself in Macedonia was too expensive; anyhow, in the
autumn of 279 he passed south through Thessaly, on his way to invade Greece.
Some Thessalian nobles and Ainianian chieftains are
said to have joined him.
Of the numbers with him we cannot pretend to form any
kind of an estimate. The Greek writers give impossible figures; and it is hopeless
to deduce the number of the fighting-men in an army from a total which is not
only uncertain in itself, but must obviously have included the women and
children, the old men and dependants, the slaves and the camp followers, and
all the unwarlike apparatus of a nation shifting its home. It is not in the
least likely that Brennus had anything even remotely approaching the 160,000 fightingmen of tradition; but to attempt to analyse the
traditional numbers is waste of time. The statement, however, that every
horseman was accompanied by two armed and mounted slaves4 may well be true, as
it suits a conquering aristocracy. The arms of the Galatae were sword and shield only; and though the more settled Celts had some
defensive armour, such as greaves, none seem to have adopted the cuirass. That
their swords were long sweeping blades, two-handed and double-edged, adapted
for cutting only and not for thrusting, seems beyond question. It is true that
the Pergamene sculptors of a later day invariably represent the Gauls of Asia
with a short, one-handed, thrusting sword; but it must be supposed that this
weapon was adopted by them after their arrival there. Their equipment was not
of a nature to render them a match, individually, for the heavy-armed Greek.
The Greek resistance to Brennus took its place, in the
Greek national consciousness, with the Greek resistance to Xerxes two centuries
earlier; these were the two great deeds of Hellas against the barbarian.
Unfortunately, later Greek writers were quite aware of this, and indulged in a
conscious parallelism which makes it uncertain whether some recorded incidents
have any foundation whatever in fact. The main lines of what happened are,
however, tolerably certain; and the contemporary inscriptions not only afford great
help in winnowing afray those parts of the story that
are valueless, but bear witness to the merits of portions of the detailed
account left by Pausanias.
Brennus, with Acichorius as his second in command, passed
south through Thessaly, where his men are said to have committed the usual acts
of lawlessness; but as he gained the adherence of some of the Thessalian
nobles, it may be supposed that Brennus, who is called an understanding man,
was putting pressure upon them to join him so as to exempt their lands from
plunder. He directed his march toward Thermopylai,
where a Greek army had assembled to guard the pass; outmanoeuvred its advance
guard, which was holding the line of the Spercheios; succeeded in crossing the
river; compelled the natives to build him a bridge, and left his Thessalian
allies to guard it; and, advancing, sat down before Herakleia. He had, however,
no chance against the walls of the town, which had recently joined the Aetolian
League, and into which the Aetolians had thrown a garrison; he therefore masked
it and moved on to the pass.
The burden of the defence of the pass had fallen
entirely on north and central Greece, the countries most immediately threatened. Antiochus and Antigonus had indeed each sent a
small force of 500 mercenaries, and it seems that Antigonus’ general in the
Piraeus equipped a few Athenian triremes to cooperate; but Egypt held aloof
altogether, as did the states of the Peloponnese. In part this was due to their
natural jealousies; Messene and Megalopolis were afterwards at pains to explain
that they had not been able to move because Sparta had refused to give them an
undertaking not to invade their territories while their men were absent.
Another reason given, that the Peloponnesians in general trusted to the
fortifications of the Isthmus, sounds
like reasoning of the days of Xerxes; but it is not so absurd as it sounds.
What they trusted to was not their own fortifying of the Isthmus; it was not
theirs to fortify. But they knew that Antigonus could and must hold Corinth,
and that the Gauls could neither storm it nor (without a fleet) turn it; they
were absolutely secure. It would need an Aristophanes to do justice to the
spectacle of the Peloponnesians, who were actually in the middle of an attempt
to turn Antigonus out of Greece, sheltering in comfort behind his lines. Antigonus
must have stiffened the garrison at Corinth and perhaps drawn his lines right
across the Isthmus; it may be that in the winter of 279/8 he was there in
person.
Pausanias gives the Greek roll of honour, the
defenders of the pass. The list unfortunately contains a mistake at the one
point where it can be checked; the Athenians did not, as Pausanias says they
did, send a fleet. Otherwise the list is probable enough; the names and the
numbers suit with facts otherwise ascertained; and the chances are of course
that such a catalogue would be correctly preserved. Boeotia sent her full levy,
10,000 hoplites and 500 horse, under four Boeotarchs.
Phocis sent 3,000 foot and 500 horse; Locris 700 foot; the Megarians 400 and a
few horse. Athens sent 1,000 picked hoplites under Kallippos,
and 500 horse. Aetolia sent the largest contingent of all; it cannot well have
been under 12,000 men, of whom 7,000 were hoplites; and it may have been more.
There was an obvious difficulty in Aetolians commanding Boeotians, or vice
versa; the supreme command was therefore given to the Athenian Kallippos.
Brennus is said to have made a frontal attack on the
pass, and to have been beaten back. He must have seen at once that under such
conditions his half-armed warriors had no chance against an adequate force of
heavy-armed Greeks: and he reasoned that if he could remove the most dangerous
force, the Aetolians, his task would be more feasible. He thereupon detached a
body of men under Orestorius and Combutis,
who retired across the Spercheios bridge into the friendly Phthiotis,
and thence invaded Aetolia. Their objective was the little town of Kallion; their, orders, presumably, were to make such an
example as should draw off the Aetolians to defend their homes. Their orders
were carried out only too well. Kallion was taken,
every living creature butchered with outrages inconceivable, if true, and the
town fired. For the moment, Brennus achieved his purpose. The Aetolians at Thermopylae
left their post and hurried home; and with them the whole of Aetolia, old and
young, men and women, rose as one to avenge their countrymen. Laden with
plunder, the Gauls had turned northward again, after severely handling a little
band of hoplites from Achaea who had crossed over to assist their neighbours,
and who made the mistake of attacking in formal order. The Aetolians fought
differently. Every path in that land of mountain and forest was beset, every
tree hid its man; the Gauls, with no defensive armour but targets, were
helpless against arrows and javelins; if they pursued, the foe’s knowledge of
the country bore him off; as they left pursuing, he returned once more to the
attack, urged on by the women, who fought even more bitterly than the men. Less
than half of the Gauls struggled back to the main body. Kallion was well avenged, and the Aetolians had, of their necessity, made the
discovery, to be made later by the Romans, that the Gaul was only formidable if
permitted to come to close quarters.
The exact details of what meanwhile took place at Thermopylae
are not particularly trustworthy, but the main outline is clear. Brennus’
object was to clear Thermopylae and let his people through. Even without the
Aetolians, the Greeks could perhaps still have held their position against a
direct assault ; but they could now spare but few men to guard against a flank
attack, and Brennus at once resolved to try the effect of turning the pass in
the traditional manner. He himself led the turning force, an unencumbered body
of warriors, whose strength is given by Pausanias as somewhat less than
one-fifth of the available fighting-men, as he conceived them. It was in fact a
comparatively small flying column; the bulk of the army, on Pausanias’ own
showing, remained with Acichorius. The story runs that the Herakleots and Ainianes guided Brennus over the path by which Flydarnes had once marched to surprise Leonidas; that, like Hydarnes, he drove off the Phocians who held the
path; and that the Greeks at Thermopylae were warned in time to avoid being
surrounded, were taken off by the fleet, and scattered to their homes. The
resemblances to Herodotus’ story are patent; but the differences are no less
patent; without affirming or denying details, it is sufficient to say that the
pass was undoubtedly turned. Unlike Hydarnes, however,
Brennus was unable to take the defenders in the rear; he may have been too
late, or he may not have been in sufficient force. But the news that the
position was turned was enough; the Greek contingents that were still at Thermopylae
retired to defend their homes, and the pass lay open to Acichorius and the
host. Brennus had achieved his purpose.
Whether Brennus had always intended to sack Delphi, or
whether his raid was unpremeditated, must remain doubtful. Perhaps the former
is the more likely view; for unless his intention was known or suspected, it is
impossible to see how Magnesians came from Asia, (if indeed they did come from
Asia), in time to aid in the defence. The idea that Delphi was no longer worth
sacking may be dismissed. Two generations had elapsed since the Phocians had
plundered it; and quite apart from the natural increment in the way of gifts
from persons and cities, the damages assessed on Phocis had been regularly
paid, and the temple had also received some very large sums of money from other
sources. Delphi was not of course the main object of the Gallic invasion, in
any case, that object was settlement. It was now open to Brennus to rejoin Acichorius and continue the invasion of Greece in
full force; and in deciding instead to raid Delphi, it appears that the Gallic
leader, who had hitherto displayed capacity and resource, was carried away by
the mere desire of plunder and committed a most serious error; both tradition
and analysis point to the conclusion that he started on his raid in ignorance
of the whereabouts of the largest body of the enemy, the Aetolians. According
to tradition, he turned Thermopylae at the same time that the Aetolians were
defeating Orestorius and Combutis;
consequently it appears that he must have set out for Delphi before hearing of
the defeat of this division of his men, and in the belief that the Aetolians
were fully occupied at home.
Meanwhile the victorious Aetolians, following up the
beaten enemy, learnt that the pass was turned, and that Brennus with a flying
column had entered Phocis, presumably making for Delphi, while nothing remained
to bar the advance southward of the main body of the Gauls. The Aetolian leaders
were faced with the responsibility of a tremendous decision; were they to
attempt to save Greece or the temple of their god? To their honour they chose
rightly; they detached a handful of men to help organize resistance at Delphi,
and with their main body set out in pursuit of Acichorius. That leader, leaving
his Thessalian allies to hold the Spercheios bridge, came rolling slowly
through Thermopylae with his unwieldy train of women and children, baggage and
wagons, guarded in front and behind by the warriors of the host. The Aetolians,
wise in their recent experience, had no intention of risking a pitched battle;
but they clung to his flanks and rear, pelting him with missiles, cutting off
all stragglers and foragers, breaking off parts of the chain of wagons,
absolutely preventing any provisioning, and killing whenever they had the
chance. In these circumstances Acichorius had made but little progress by the
time that the decision had fallen at Delphi.
The defence of Delphi, as formally narrated by later
Greek writers, becomes a poetical duplication of the similar story in Herodotus;
the stars in their courses fight against the impious invader, the crags of
Parnassos fall on him and crush him, gods and heroes take the shape and the
arms of men and hurl him back from the sanctuary. The main lines of what did
happen were perhaps somewhat as follows.
Brennus made for Delphi by forced marches. Beside the
Delphians, there had assembled for the defence of the sanctuary a handful of
Aetolians, 400 Locrian hoplites from Amphissa, and
some part—how large we do not know—of the Phocian levies. With them were a
little body of men from Magnesia on the Maeander, who had perhaps crossed from
Asia to aid in the defence, even as one trireme had come from Italy to fight
against Xerxes. A battle was fought outside or on the walls, in which the Phocian
leader Aleximachos fell; but his death was not in
vain, for the Gauls were checked. Dark storm-clouds gathered over Delphi during
the battle at the wall; the priests from the temple came down to the warriors as
the storm burst, declaring that Apollo was with them; perhaps, among the
excited defenders of the sanctuary, there were some who claimed that they
themselves had seen the son of Leto manifest to his worshippers, riding the
whirlwind and directing the arrows of his lightning against the impious
invaders. Whether the Gauls actually entered Delphi or not must remain obscure;
it is known that Apollo’s own temple remained untouched and inviolate. However
it may have been, Brennus could not hold any footing he may have gained; he
withdrew and formed a camp for the night outside the town.
That night the Greeks were strongly reinforced, for
the entire Phocian people were rising to wipe out the stain of the Sacred War
and fight their way back into the good graces of Hellas; there also came 1,200
Aetolians under Philomelos. Morning broke on a raging blizzard of snow and
sleet, in the midst of which the Greeks attacked Brennus’ camp, avoiding close
quarters as usual, while some of the Phocians, secure in their local knowledge,
worked along the flanks of Parnassos to take him in the rear. Suffering
horribly under the hail of missiles, to which they could make no reply, the
Gauls nevertheless held firm till Brennus himself was struck down; then they
broke ground, slew all the wounded who could not follow, and set out on their
backward path, carrying their fainting leader and struggling on through an
endless running fight with the whole Phocian nation. Something of the horror of
that retreat for the strangers, who could neither see their way nor retaliate
on their foemen, may still be gathered from the triumphant words of the
Delphic hymn to Apollo, which celebrates their death ‘in the drift of the wet
snow’. A remnant only reached Acichorius; but the news had travelled faster
than they; the Athenians and Boeotians were already in the field again, and
Acichorius turned back. The Aetolians, who had borne the burden of the campaign
against him, now hung triumphantly on his rear, and chased him to his base camp
outside Herakleia and thence north to the Spercheios, inflicting great damage; Brennus,
it is said, slew himself in despair, while the Thessalians at the Spercheios
changed sides and themselves fell on their barbarian allies. The Gauls who got
through retreated northward, and Greece was saved.
As to who was her saviour, there were no two opinions.
Most of the fighting had fallen upon the Aetolians; they had held back the main
body of the enemy single-handed; theirs had been the first victory, theirs the tactics
of every victory; and at the end they had followed up the routed foe till his
last wagon recrossed the Spercheios. Phocis had fought well, and she received
the reward she coveted, readmission to the Amphictyonic League; and she
dedicated a statue of Aleximachos at Delphi. But
Aetolia, as was just, gained most from the war. She started forthwith on a new
career. Her influence and the territory of her League steadily increased; her
control of Delphi was no longer questioned, and to it she added the control of
the Amphictyonic Assembly. At Delphi she set up many memorials of the repulse
of the great invasion. Statues of the gods, two of Apollo, one of Artemis, and
one of Athene; statues of the Aetolian leader Eurydamos and her other generals; a great statue of Aetolia herself, as an armed woman
seated on a pile of Gallic shields; chiefest of all,
the actual shields of the vanquished Gauls, which, with a suitable dedication,
balanced on the temple the Persian shields which the Athenians had taken from
other vanquished barbarians at Marathon. But Aetolia went further than this.
She had saved Greece, and she knew it; and it was she who instituted at Delphi
the festival in memory of the Deliverance of Greece, the Soteria.
The Greek states adjudged its contests to be of equal importance with those of
the Nemea in the athletic and of the Pythia in the non athletic events; and theoroi were sent out all over the Greek world bearing
invitations to the gathering which was to commemorate the victory gained over
the barbarians who had attacked the Greeks and the temple of Apollo, the common
possession of Hellas.
It is time to return to the affairs of Macedonia. That
unhappy country, invaded, plundered, and reduced almost to anarchy, was perhaps
getting some relief under the rule of Sosthenes; but Sosthenes was not
uniformly successful in his contest with the barbarians, and he could not hold
the whole country together; his refusal of the perilous crown left the way open
for many intrigues. Antipatros, king of the dog-days, seems to have had a
following in one part of the country; there were partisans of Pyrrhus, of
Ptolemaios son of Lysimachus, perhaps of Antiochus; while the great city of
Kassandreia had broken off from the kingdom altogether. It had been founded by
Kassandros to replace Potidaia, and settled by the
inhabitants of several Greek towns, including (it appears) many of the
surviving Olynthians. Ptolemy Keraunos had assigned
it as a residence to his mother, Eurydice, sister of Kassandros and divorced
wife of Ptolemy I; and in the troubles that followed on Keraunos’ death, she,
supported by mercenaries who garrisoned the citadel in her interest, ruled the
town for her own hand. How long her rule lasted is not known; but after a time
she disappears from the scene, and one Apollodorus stands forward as champion
of the democracy and prevails on Eurydice’s mercenaries to hand over the
citadel and join the popular cause. Apollodorus travels the usual course toward
a tyranny; he institutes a festival in honour of Eurydice, who had given
‘liberty’ to Kassandreia, refuses a bodyguard, pays court to Eurydice’s
mercenaries, and in the fullness of time raises a revolt of slaves and artisans
and seizes the supreme power. He enlists a bodyguard of Gauls, attracts
mercenaries by raising the standard rate of pay, and begins to consider an
ambitious foreign policy; it may be that his dream was, that Kassandreia should
play the part once played by Olynthus.
Of those who had some claim to the vacant throne of
Macedonia, far the most favourably situated appeared to be Antiochus. He had
the resources off an empire at his back, and he had prepared his ground rather
carefully. Perhaps he treated his accommodation with Keraunos as a personal
matter only, a thing at an end with Keraunos’ death; at any rate in 279 he was
doing more than feel his way. How much he was doing it is impossible to say. It
is possible that he had, or acquired, an actual footing in some part of
Macedonia, as a city Antiocheia appears there,
apparently near Arethousa : it is not, however; possible
to say from what period it dates. Certainly he had partisans in the country,
and he struck coins with Macedonian types and cultivated good relations with
Aetolia. Nor was Aetolia the only Greek power whose friendship he affected. He
sought to win the favour of Athens; it is almost certain that he did win the
favour of Sparta. Whether any power at all, either Ptolemy or Antiochus, had
stood behind the upheaval of Greece in 280 is uncertain; it may have been a
purely spontaneous conflagration. But by 279 it seems that Antiochus was
supporting Sparta, and that this was one of the reasons why Greece took fright
at Spartan ambition and refused to follow Areus on a
second campaign that year. The common ground uniting Sparta and Antiochus was
enmity to Antigonus.
The reason of the most obscure war which broke out in
279 between Antigonus and Antiochus thus becomes fairly clear.
Each claimed Macedonia; each thought the other his
most dangerous rival. Whether Seleucus had been king of Macedonia de iure or not, Antiochus considered that he had;
consequently he himself, in his own eyes, was king of Macedonia. Antigonus always
had his eyes firmly fixed on his father’s kingdom, and no explanation of this
war can be satisfactory which does not take account of this fact. Why Antigonus
did not invade Macedonia itself on Keraunos’ death it is hard to conjecture; it
seems certain that he did not. He cannot have had much of a following there;
and we may suppose that he thought that a man just beaten out of Greece stood
little chance in Macedonia, and that it was best first to attempt to dispose of
Antiochus’ claims and incidentally regain some prestige. It is just possible
that, in the course of the ensuing war, he did attempt to get a footing in
Macedonia, and failed; but it is certain that sometime in 279 he commenced
operations by sailing to Asia Minor to attack Antiochus. The two kings seem to
have suspended hostilities in the autumn of 279 in order to send each a small
force to Thermopylae; but with the spring of 278 the war blazed out afresh.
Antiochus apparently occupied a strong position. He
allied himself with Apollodorus, the ambitious tyrant of Kassandreia; and as Apollodorus
also allied himself with Sparta,—(an alliance which Sparta’s enemies insinuated
had been shamefully sold by her for money down),—and Sparta had the following
of a number of Peloponnesian states, Antiochus appeared to be at the head of a
strong combination of powers, with a good gateway into Macedonia. But there was
no real basis of union and the want of sufficient sea-power definitely sundered
Antiochus from Sparta and both from Apollodorus, while the latter meant to work
for his own interests. And even by land Antiochus could not reach his allies.
Antiochus in fact was hemmed in by enemies. He could
not cope at once with all the revolts in his great scattered kingdom; and the
new king of Bithynia, Nicomedes, barred his passage to Europe. Bithynia was
fighting for her separate existence as a nation; and while her people were
still uncivilized enough to cling passionately to their national independence,
their king was sufficiently inclined to the ideas of Greece to add to the
national resistance such strength as the sciences of civilization could give. The Bithynians had already cut up one army sent by Antiochus;
and Nicomedes had secured the friendship of the powerful Northern League,
formed by Herakleia, Byzantion and their friends. This combination against Antiochus
naturally attracted Antigonus; the Byzantines were his hereditary friends, and
he had not so many friends that he could afford to neglect any of them. One of
the reasons for his crossing to Asia in 279 was, no doubt, the invitation of
the Northern League, and the perception of the fact that, if he were going to
fight Antiochus, he must co-operate with those of his friends who we real ready
making head against him. Between them, as against Antiochus, they undoubtedly
controlled the sea.
The actual events of the year 278 are extraordinarily
obscure. It may have been at this time that the Spartan Kleonymos drove Antigonus’ garrison out of Troizen. Cyzicus in
some way was damaged. The fleets of Antiochus and Nicomedes met, but did not
fight. This statement, however, shows that Antigonus’ fleet was not
co-operating with his allies, but was elsewhere; and possibly with this fact
should be connected the persistent tradition which associates Antigonus with
Macedonia prior to 277. That he did not become king of Macedonia till after his
victory at Lysimacheia in 277 is the one quite certain fact of this time; we
may perhaps conclude, therefore, that the mystery of his movements in 278
conceals an attempt to get a footing in Macedonia, possibly in connexion with
operations against Apollodorus. If so, it was an attempt that failed; that is,
if by Macedonia we are to understand Macedonia proper rather than Thrace.
Sosthenes may have had a firm hold of the army while he lived; and it is very
possible that the strange phenomenon of a non-monarchic government in Macedonia
was attracting the powerful friendship of the democratic Aetolians who, though
recently friendly to Pyrrhus and Antigonus, considered (as the event was to
show) that of the two it was Pyrrhus who had the first claim on them. At any
rate a city bearing Sosthenes’ name appears soon after among the Aetolian
towns, a fair proof of their sympathies at this time.
It may be, however, that the tradition as to Macedonia
means no more than that Antigonus obtained a footing in Thrace, a country
recently part of Macedonia, but which cannot have been claimed or held by
Sosthenes, and was completely cut off from Antiochus, who did claim it.
Certainly Antigonus was operating there in the spring of 277; it was clear by
then that Antiochus could not hope to conquer the Northern League, and by
attempting to occupy Thrace Antigonus could both aid his allies and do
something for himself. Then, once more, the Celts intervened.
One body of them had already come upon the scene in
278. After Brennus’ host had withdrawn northward, a band of Gauls, composed
either wholly or in part of those who had originally entered Macedonia with
Brennus, began to pass eastward along the Thracian coast. They were 20,000
strong, but of these only 10,000 were armed; their leaders were Leonnorius and Lutarius.
Naturally they did much damage; by one account, perhaps exaggerated, they even
managed to enter, and plundered, Lysimacheia; ultimately they descended on the
Hellespont, and began to bargain with Antiochus’ governor for a crossing. The
details are variously given; but Nicomedes forestalled Antiochus, and secured
the promise of their aid if he brought them over. He brought them over; and
they proceeded to aid him in a manner that may be understood from the
inscriptions of the terrified towns of Asia. With them we have no further
concern.
Of the three bodies into which the Gallic invasion had
divided itself, two—those of Belgius and Brennus—had
now ceased to be a menace to civilization in the Balkan peninsula. Many had
been slain, and the survivors had crossed to Asia or withdrawn into Servia,
though possibly some scattered bands still ranged Macedonia for plunder. But
there still remained the third body, the men who under Cerethrius had invaded Thrace; they seem, after the winter of 279/8, to have received an
accession of strength, perhaps from some of Brennus’ people. These overran
Thrace, conquered the independent Thracian tribes of the interior, who had
never yielded to Lysimachus or any other Macedonian king, and by the spring of
277 were rolling seaward, threatening the Greek cities of the Chersonese.
Somewhere near Lysimacheia lay Antigonus, his fleet
drawn ashore, his army of mercenaries landed for the defence of the city.
Whether he was there by accident or design, whether he had been seeking a
footing in Thrace for himself, or whether the cities, terrified by the passage
of the Gauls in 278, had sought from the one organized force at hand protection
against this new danger, cannot be said. It is probable enough that in a
combination of both reasons lies the cause of Antigonus barring the Celtic
advance. The leader of the Gauls, whose strength is given as 18,000 men,
commenced operations, as Belgius had done against
Keraunos, by throwing out a feeler in the shape of an embassy. The story—a
quite untrustworthy one in its details—runs that Antigonus received the envoys
courteously, invited them to dinner, and showed them everything they wished to
see, before dismissing them to their folk. Next night he abandoned his camp,
and posted his army out of sight, leaving his fleet still ashore as a bait; for
he felt certain that the Gauls would attack him, and that speedily. He was not
deceived; the first onslaught of the barbarians wasted itself on the empty
camp; laden with plunder, they proceeded to attack the ships, and found
themselves trapped between the sea in front and Antigonus behind. Antigonus won
a great and a bloody victory.
Its effects were far-reaching. The least of them was,
that it stopped the advance of the Gauls towards the Aegean, and turned the
energies of the remainder in a new direction, the foundation of the inland
kingdom of Tylis. For it did much more than this. The
Aetolians had indeed already defeated Gauls more than once, but in their own
way and by their own guerrilla tactics, tactics which contained within
themselves the confession that it was best not to let the barbarians get to
close quarters in open field. But now an army of Gauls had been fairly met and
cut to pieces. Antigonus had won more than a victory; he had won unique and
invaluable prestige. The fear of him now was not only in the hearts of the
Gauls; it was in the hearts of his neighbours. Greek cities passed him decrees
of thanks; pictures of his exploits against the barbarians were dedicated at
Athens to Athene the Giver of Victory: he too was of those who had brought
deliverance to men of Hellenic race.
Whether he now invaded Macedonia, or received an
invitation to come, is nowhere told: but Sosthenes was dead, the country in
absolute anarchy, and the Macedonian farmers were ready to welcome any man
strong enough to hold the gates of the land against the barbarian. One way or
the other, in the expressive words of his old teacher Menedemos, he ‘came into
his own’; the exile returned home; he became, at last, king of the Macedonians.
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ANTIGONUS GONATAS |