CHAPTER
XIV.
GREECE:
335 TO 321 BC
I.
THE
FEELING IN GREECE
WHEN
Alexander crossed to Asia, he left behind him a Greece formally regulated by
the League of Corinth, but in fact cowed by the destruction of Thebes. In 335
he had been afraid of a general combination against him. That danger was past;
his rear was secure, and in the allied contingents he held hostages for the
good behaviour of the League states. But it is well to consider what those
states were feeling.
In form, the
League had united a Greece disunited by nature and traditional sentiment. Its
strong point was that it gave the small cities proportionate rights over
against the large ones. Its weak points were that it stereotyped the actual,
not the ideal, position, and that its President was, in Greek eyes, a
foreigner. Many Greeks refused to regard it as a unification, or anything but
an instrument of foreign control; the delegates met under the shadow of the
Macedonian garrison on Acrocorinthus. Alexander might
treat the cities as free allies; he could not alter this feeling. Many Greeks
too resented the loss of an independent foreign policy. For the war with Persia
they cared nothing; their hearts were with their fellow-countrymen in Darius’
service, and they hoped for Darius’ success. Matters were not improved by the
man whom Alexander had left to govern Macedonia and supervise Greece. Antipater
was a strong character, capable, honest, and loyal; but he was narrow and
unimaginative. He had no sympathy with Alexander’s policy of treating the
Greeks as free allies; and he probably had no liking for the League, regarded
as an instrument to secure the freedom of all Greek cities, great and small,
subject to such restrictions as the Covenant imposed. It might have its uses in
his eyes as an instrument to maintain the position of the possessing classes
and crush the threat of social revolution; for some of the possessing classes
were his friends. But what he regarded as his real business was to keep the
League’s peace. His own method of keeping the peace would have been to dispense
with Leagues, garrison selected points, and support the oligarchs against the
democrats. This last he did; but, as to garrisons, it cannot be shown that at
first he did more than maintain Philip’s original detachments in Corinth, Chalcis,
and the Cadmea; the Covenant provided for ‘no
garrisons’, and he meant to do his duty by the Covenant, though he gave it its
narrowest interpretation. For instance, it provided that no constitution in
force at its date should be altered. Obviously this meant forcibly altered from
without, for it also provided that the internal affairs of the cities should
not be interfered with; but Antipater took the words literally, and restored
certain tyrants who had been expelled,—those of Pellene and Sicyon, and Philiades’ sons at Messene,—on the
ground that they had been ruling at the date of the Covenant. To many Greeks
‘the Macedonian’ soon became the best-hated man in the peninsula.
To many, but
not to all. To get a true perspective, we must avoid looking at Greece
exclusively through Athenian eyes; we must admit that all free cities, big or
little, cultured or the reverse, had an equal right to their own lives, and
that the alternating supremacies of the three great cities, Athens, Sparta,
Thebes, had infringed that right. That right was now secured by the Covenant of
the League; and there were cities who regarded the Covenant as a charter of
liberty. Fortunately the view of one group of them has been preserved by the
Arcadian Polybius. We find ourselves in a different world from that of
Demosthenes. Macedonia is far away; she may be a pre-occupation to Athens, but
to Arcadia the preoccupation is Sparta. Demosthenes might call those who did
not see eye to eye with Athens traitors; it was a base libel (says Polybius) on
some of the best men of the Peloponnese, including those very sons of Philiades. These men knew that the interests of their own
cities and those of Athens were not identical; far from being traitors, they
had by means of Macedonia secured safety from their secular terror, Sparta, and
given to their homes revived freedom and the possibility of leading their own
lives undisturbed. The Arcadian view may not have been the highest view, but it
must be considered. It explains why Argos was a base for Macedonian influence
no less than Thessaly, and why Alexander could use his Peloponnesian horse in
the first line.
Athens felt
very differently. She still felt that supremacy in Greece was hers by right;
she lived in the hope of a second chance. Meanwhile there must be no open
breach with Alexander; it was too dangerous. There were really four parties in
the city. There were the oligarchs, led by Phocion, a man of personal worth,
but one who believed that Athens’ day was done and favoured a policy of
resignation to the will of Macedonia. There were some propertied moderates,
represented by the clever Demades, a creature
worthless and corrupt, but able by that very fact to render Athens service with
the Macedonians, who knew that he could be used and were willing to favour his
requests. There were the radicals, led by Hypereides,
the man who after Chaeronea had proposed to arm the slaves; they hated
Alexander and were ready to fight at any time. Last, and most important of the
four, was the great bulk of the democratic party, rich and poor alike, the men
who had followed Demosthenes. They were now led by Lycurgus; for Demosthenes
had recognized that, for Athens’ sake, he must efface himself for a time. Both
men were fully convinced that Athens must and would fight again; both were
equally convinced that she must await a favourable opportunity, and that
meanwhile all good patriots must work to strengthen and restore the city
internally. Thus three of the four parties desired peace, thouqh for different reasons; and an arrangement, tacit or express, was come to under
which the pro-Macedonians, Phocion (who was annually elected general) and Demades, managed external affairs, i.e. kept the
peace with Alexander, while Lycurgus had a free hand in internal matters. The
radicals did not at present oppose this arrangement.
II.
LYCURGUS
AND ATHENS
During the
twelve years following Chaeronea (338—326) Lycurgus was the most important
politician in Athens. He was a pupil of Plato and a friend of Xenocrates, now head of the Academy; he might call himself
a democrat, but his ideal was Sparta, and his regime was not particularly
democratic; most of the offices still went to the well-to-do. Stern and
pitiless, a hard worker and quite incorruptible, he was efficient rather than
attractive. His sphere was finance; and the combination in one person of the
chief finance minister and the leading orator of the city was as powerful as
the phenomenon of a financier with a moral mission was strange. That mission
was to purge and uplift the city and stamp out treason. It was said that
against wrong-doers (in his sense) his pen was dipped in blood, not ink; he
rarely failed in a prosecution, for the juries believed that, though merciless,
he was not unjust. The great wrong-doing, in his eyes, was to have despaired of
the State, or failed in her service; thus he secured the death of Lysicles, general at Chaeronea, and of one Autolycus, who
had left the city after the battle. His qualities are shown in his speech for
the prosecution (in 330) of a wretched trader named Leocrates,
who had left Athens after Chaeronea but had returned. Contrary to Greek
practice, he did not seek to vilify Leocrates’
private life; he treated the man impersonally, as a mere embodiment of that
treason to Athens which would wreck the city if not remorselessly suppressed.
For twelve
years he controlled Athenian finances; but what office he actually held is
uncertain. Most probably the existing financial offices, those of the theoric commissioners and the military steward, were filled
by his nominees, while he himself held an extraordinary commission and pulled
the strings. He is described informally as head of the administration; the
later office of Superintendent of the Administration, seemingly created in 307,
which presently gathered to itself all financial power, was probably modelled
upon his activities. Athenian trade was as yet unimpaired and ready to take
advantage of the openings Alexander was creating, and Lycurgus, it is said,
raised the revenue of Athens from 600 to 1200 talents a year; this does not
mean double the income, for money was fast depreciating in value. He used this
revenue, as he used his advocacy, to strengthen Athens for the future war. The
renovation of the walls had already been begun; brick was replaced by stone,
and a ditch dug to prevent the approach of rams. The military commands were
further specialized, and generals might now be elected from the whole people
without reference to tribes. The fleet was remodelled, and triremes as they
wore out were replaced by larger vessels; by 325 BC Athens had 50 quadriremes
and 7 quinqueremes in addition to 360 triremes. Of course she could not man 417
ships; probably her effective fleet was about 200. Lycurgus also accumulated
arms and ammunition, and doubtless formed a war fund.
He carried
out at the same time a great building programme; it adorned Athens as she had
not been adorned since the time of Pericles, though his object was still the
practical one, the strengthening of Athens for war. By means of a special tax
he completed Philon’s magazine and his half-finished docks, and he finished the
Panathenaic stadium, for which voluntary subscriptions were received. The
Dionysiac theatre was converted into a stone building, as were the old
gymnasium in the Lyceum and its palaestra. By 332 Philon was at work on his
portico at Eleusis. Lycurgus thus provided the material; it remained to form
the men. The stadium and gymnasium might train the body; Plato’s pupil thought
also of training the mind. Far the most important measure of the time—it may
have been instituted about 335— was the remodelling of the Ephebate.
It became a system of compulsory military training; the lads enrolled (ephebes)
had to pass a judicial examination of their claim to serve, and served for two
years, the 19th and 20th; the system produced some 800 recruits annually. The
first year was spent in training and exercises; at the end of it the ephebes received shield and spear from the State, took the oath, and spent a year on
garrison duty in the Attic forts. But the prime importance of the system was
that it was designed to train the mind no less than the body; the ephebes went through a course of study, and beside the military instructors stood a kosmetes and ten sophronistai,
one for each tribe, whose names are eloquent: the lads were to learn order,
temperance, and self-control. These were to be the foundations on which Athens
should be built afresh.
Connected
with this were Lycurgus’ religious measures; in 334 he took in hand the
re-organization of the public cults, and also created a new state fund, the dermatikon, from the sale of the skins of
sacrificial victims; from this and other monies he replaced on the Acropolis
the seven missing Victories of solid gold, thus restoring the Periclean ten,
and provided many ornaments for the religious processions. But any attempt to
restore the spirit of the State religion was bound to fail; for to the educated
the worship of the Olympian gods no longer had much meaning. Nor was philosophy
yet ready to take its place. There was indeed a great philosopher in Athens;
Aristotle had returned to the city from Macedonia when Alexander crossed to
Asia. But Aristotle of Stagirus was foreign in
feeling to the Athenian democrats; his friendship with Alexander, and still
more that with Antipater, whom he made executor of his will, estranged them; he
and Lycurgus had nothing in common. And anyhow Aristotle had nothing with which
to replace the old state-worship; scientifically he might be the precursor of
the future, but ethically he belonged to the past; for a new quickening
principle men had to wait for Zeno’s enunciation of duty. With the
state-religion wanting, and philosophy without counsel, the only alternative
was to turn to the more intimate worships of the East. Whether Lycurgus did so
L quite uncertain. In 333 a State temple of Ammon was ceremoniously opened in
Athens; but Ammon had already a long connection with Athens as an oracle, and
there is nothing to connect his temple specifically with Lycurgus. Certainly in
the same year Lycurgus carried a resolution to grant the merchants of Citium a site for a temple of the Cyprian Aphrodite, and it
was probably through his instrumentality that, shortly before, a site for a
temple of Isis had been granted to some Egyptian merchants. Probably however
his aim was merely to encourage corporations of foreign merchants, i.e.
to benefit trade; but this would serve the same purpose as all his acts, the
strengthening of Athens.
In addition,
two of his laws deserve notice. One provided that official copies of the plays
of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides should be made and kept, and that no
other versions should be acted; the other forbade Athenians to purchase as a
slave any free man taken in war. This humane law may have influenced those
cities which in the next century bound themselves not to enslave each other’s
nationals.
Greece had
not ceased to be an effective force because Athens and Thebes had been defeated
at Chaeronea and a new state had entered the circle of Greek culture. The great
days of several Greek cities, as Rhodes and Megalopolis, and some of the best
of the history of Sparta, lay in the future, as did the Athens of the
philosophers. Greece for long was to remain the most important country in the
world; and if we feel—and justly feel—that during Alexander’s lifetime Greece
has lost importance, that depends, not on military defeat or Alexander’s
conquests in Asia, but simply on the fact that Athens had, for the moment, lost
to Alexander her primacy in the world of ideas; it was Alexander who was now
opening up new spheres of thought. For Aristotle, though in, was not of,
Athens; he is a lonely figure, out of touch with Athenian democracy, and fast
losing touch with Alexander, who in some ways was passing far beyond his
outlook. But science was his; and he claimed that Wisdom, whose representative
on earth he was, was as great a power as Alexander himself. Even if we regard
the future as lying with Alexander, we must try to appreciate the very
different points of view of Aristotle and of Athens.
III.
AGIS
III OF SPARTA
Alexander’s
dealings with the Persian fleet show that he knew that Athens would only wait
and watch; and if Athens was not above indulging in pin-pricks,—if she sent envoys
to Darius and even in 334 permitted his fleet to provision at Samos,—Alexander
could afford to smile. From 335 to 331 Athens had in fact no foreign policy.
But another city was preparing for war. Agis of Sparta had in 333 sent envoys
to Darius, and had opened communications with the Persian admirals, whom he
met at Siphnos, with a view to securing the aid of
the Persian fleet. The news of Issus interrupted their conference; the Persian
admirals had to look to themselves, but they gave Agis 30 talents and 10 ships,
with which he made an attempt on Crete, a fine recruiting ground; Alexander had
to send his fleet under Amphoterus to protect the
island. Agis also made some attempt to support those Persians who were still in
arms in Caria. He subsequently took into his service the 8000 mercenaries who
had escaped from Issus, and by 331 he had definitely decided upon war. It was
known that Persia was making a great effort, and some in Greece thought they
ought to fight while Darius’ power still stood; also Antipater was involved in
Thrace, where his general Memnon had revolted, perhaps with native support.
Agis now
sought to win over Athens. Some were ready to subscribe money toward a war;
even Demosthenes seems for a moment to have thought that the time had come,
though his common sense soon reasserted itself. The radicals of course heartily
supported Agis, and one of them, in the speech On the treaties with
Alexander (if it was delivered), called on Athens to join him. The speech
itself is an attempt to show, by an enumeration of Antipater’s misdeeds, that
Macedonia had consistently broken the Covenant of the League, and that Athens
had a duty to intervene. In particular it was emphasized that Antipater had reestablished tyrants in certain Peloponnesian cities,
though it was conveniently forgotten that five years previously Athens had
honoured Cleomis, tyrant of Methymna—a
tyrant was not so bad if he were in your own interest. It was also alleged that
Alexander had detained Athenian merchantmen in the Dardanelles. If true, it was
probably some subordinate’s excess of zeal; for Alexander had never wavered in
his policy of conciliating Athens since he had sent her the spoils of Granicus,
and about the time of this discussion at Athens (summer 331) he released the
Athenian prisoners taken in that battle, in order to secure her good-will,
though he gave her warning not to interfere by reinforcing Amphoterus,
who was watching events in Greece, with 100 ships, probably raising his fleet
to a larger force than Athens could mobilize. The government at Athens kept
their heads and kept the peace, and crowned Alexander for releasing the
prisoners. Agis’ enterprise was indeed foredoomed from the start. The presence
of his fine army at Chaeronea, or even before Lamia,
might have altered history; but to neglect to support Athens and Thebes in 338,
and then to fight Macedonia single-handed, was merely throwing away men’s lives
to no purpose. Possibly however he was actually co-operating with Darius; the
story of his attempt rests on scanty and inferior evidence.
Agis could
only secure Elis, Achaea, and part of Arcadia as allies, and quite failed to
disturb the grouping in the Peloponnese that was to become traditional;
Megalopolis, Messene, and Argos, Macedonia’s watchdogs, held to Antipater. In
summer 331 Agis moved north with an army of 22,000 men,—presumably the usual
Spartan levy of 6000, his 10,000 mercenaries, and 6000 allies,—defeated a force
which Corrhagus, probably the Macedonian commander in
Corinth, collected to oppose him, and besieged Megalopolis. Antipater patched
up matters in Thrace and hurried south, gathering the League troops on the way;
it may have been now that he garrisoned some places in Thessaly, where there
was unrest, and in Malis. He entered Arcadia in late
autumn 331, shortly after Alexander’s victory at Gaugamela, and Agis raised the
siege and met him near Megalopolis. The Spartan army gave Antipater a hard
fight; but the Macedonian victory was complete and Agis died on the field.
Antipater was too wise to drive Sparta to extremities. He treated his success
as the success of the League; he merely demanded as hostages 50 noble Spartans,
whom he sent to Alexander, and entrusted the decision with regard to Sparta to
the congress of the League. Sparta appealed from the hostile League to
Alexander; he forgave all but the chief leaders, but directed payment of 120
talents to Megalopolis as compensation. The defeat crippled Sparta for years,
and probably she now had to enter the League. Antipater sent to Alexander what
remained of the 8000 mercenaries of Issus; possibly they formed part of the
force subsequently left by him in Bactria, and there sowed disaffection among
their fellows which bore fruit later.
IV.
THE
PROSECUTION OF DEMOSTHENES
Though
Gaugamela and Megalopolis had paralysed the desire for war, Agis’ attempt put
an end to the truce which had reigned in the internal affairs of Athens.
Passions had been roused on both sides which found their outlet in the
law-courts. Lycurgus prosecuted Leocrates, as a
demonstration that his anti-Macedonian policy remained unaltered, and Polyeuctus in prosecuting one Euxenippus alleged against him pro-Macedonian sympathies. Hypereides defended Euxenippus, the first sign that the radicals
were passing definitely into opposition; they had desired war, and thought that
the government had neglected a favourable opportunity. In Leocrates’
case the votes were equal, and he was acquitted. Probably the jury felt it
unfair to call the man to account after eight years had passed; but their
verdict encouraged the friends of Macedonia. These were already, in various
cities, prosecuting members of the war party; and they now instituted at Athens
a far more important prosecution than that of Leocrates.
After Chaeronea one Ctesiphon had proposed, and the Senate had decreed, that a
gold crown should be bestowed upon Demosthenes in the theatre at the Dionysia
in commemoration of his services to Athens, against Philip. Aeschines had
indicted the proposal as illegal; and though on the news of Philip’s death the
indictment had been dropped, it had suspended the operation of the decree, and
the crown had not been given. Aeschines now renewed his prosecution of
Ctesiphon, whose defence Demosthenes of course undertook. Aeschines thought that
the time had come to try and crush his rival; for everyone well understood that
what was really on trial was not Ctesiphon but Demosthenes and his policy up to
Chaeronea. The trial came on in spring 330, and the speeches of both Aeschines
and Demosthenes have been preserved.
It has
recently become a fashion with some writers to treat Aeschines as a far-seeing
statesman and Demosthenes as a demagogue; but this view of Aeschines derives no
support from his speech against Ctesiphon. It was a weak speech. On the
juridical aspect of Ctesiphon’s proposal—that it was illegal to crown an
official still liable to scrutiny and illegal to confer a crown in the
theatre—Aeschines had a good case, and Demosthenes could not really answer him;
but the jury would care little for the technical points of law, as Demosthenes
well understood. But when he came to the substance of the charge, Aeschines
adopted the extraordinary course of fighting Demosthenes on the latter’s own
ground. He made no attempt to show that the line of policy taken by Demosthenes
was wrong; he only argued that Demosthenes had not carried out that policy
either thoroughly or successfully. Doubtless he realized that most of the jury
had approved of the war with Philip; and it may have been clever and prudent to
contend that Demosthenes was really rather proMacedonian,
and had neglected many good chances against both Philip and Alexander. But the
prudence was uncommonly like timidity, and the cleverness that of the small
attorney. Even on the lines he himself selected he handled the matter
inadequately; he dealt only with details, and did not attempt to expose the
basic flaws in Demosthenes’ activity,—the neglect of any thorough attempt to
secure Sparta, and the failure to understand the military importance of
Aetolia, which flanked Philip’s communications,—the things in fact which
Alexander had afterwards been afraid of. But had he had the mind and the
courage of a statesman, he might have expounded that alternative policy which
some believe he saw. He need not have said “We were bound to keep friends with
Philip at any price”; he could have argued that the League of Corinth was a
great constructive conception, and that Athens should have co-operated with
Philip, abandoning dreams of empire, working for a united Hellas in a league
where all alike, small and great, would be free, using the great strength of
such a league to check any subsequent encroachment upon autonomy by Philip,
should such there be. It may not have been the right policy for Athens; but it
would have been an honest alternative to put. Instead, he stultified himself
completely by expressing regret for Athens’ lost supremacy; if he really felt
that, he had no right to have worked against Demosthenes. Naturally he failed
to carry the jury with him; there was nothing in the attitude he adopted to
influence anybody, and the absurdity of treating Demosthenes as secretly
friendly to Alexander was patent.
Demosthenes
lifted the debate on to a different level. His speech On the Crown is
generally considered to be one of the greatest speeches of the ancient world,
even if it has not the fire of some of his own attacks on Philip, or the
peculiar glamour of the Funeral Oration in Thucydides. But a modern man,
knowing only the repute of the speech and actually reading it for the first
time, would probably be somewhat puzzled. He would be repelled by the
consistent egoism of the speaker (even if he recognized that this was partly
forced upon him), and more than repelled by the unworthy personal abuse of Aeschines
and, still worse, of Aeschines’ mother. Parts of the defence of the speaker’s
policy are effective; but, granted the policy, it was an easy one to defend,
and its real defects, which had not been pointed out by Aeschines,—the neglect
of Sparta and Aetolia,—might easily slip out of sight, covered up by the
undeniable achievement of winning over Thebes. One line of defence
however,—that the speaker had never made a move except in answer to one of
Philip’s, —was very poor; it was clap-trap for the gallery, and invited a
crushing retort. Putting aside the technical skill of the speech as an
oratorical exhibition, its fame really rests on its patriotism. It does indeed
glow throughout with a white heat of patriotism; but again a modern reader will
note, with a certain anxiety, that the expressed aim of the speaker was not so
much the freedom of Athens as her supremacy; the speech is shot through with
regrets that Athens had ceased to be the first power in Hellas. Yet, for all
that, the speech deserves, and more than deserves, its accustomed repute,
though perhaps not quite for the accustomed reason. For in one way it is unique
among extant Greek orations; it is the panegyric of failure, the triumph-song
of the men of the lost battle. What matters in a man is not what he achieves,
but what he intends and aims at. To have striven to the uttermost for a great
end, even if in vain, is the highest thing given to him; success or failure
rests with God. That is the keynote of the speech; and that is the glory of Demosthenes.
Perhaps only once before had any Greek reached such a level; some hearer of the
speech On the Crown may have recalled the wonderful drama in which, in an older
Athens, Euripides had written:
There is a
crown in death
For her that striveth well and perisheth.
The result of
the trial was the complete vindication of Demosthenes; Aeschines failed to
obtain a fifth of the votes, and went into exile to Rhodes, where he died. The
pro-Macedonians gave up further useless attacks on the Nationalists; the co-operation
of all parties except the radicals was restored; any idea of a foreign policy
was again abandoned. The reconciliation of the parties is shown by Lycurgus and Demades serving together in 330 in the sacred mission
sent to Delphi for the dedication of the new temple, while in 329 Lycurgus, Demades, and the pro-Macedonian oligarch Thymochares were appointed among the commissioners to
supervise the games at the Amphiaraum at Oropus, and
were thanked on Demosthenes’ motion.
The time was
rendered difficult by a food shortage which began in 330 and lasted till 326.
Doubtless the harvests failed in many places; but Alexander’s requirements must
also have drained the world of its floating supply of corn, and the trouble was
aggravated by Cleomenes in Egypt. Cleomenes,
by forbidding anyone to export corn from Egypt except himself, had succeeded in
monopolizing that important source of supply; he had a good system of
information, and diverted his cornships to wherever
prices at the moment were highest. Athens, who depended absolutely on foreign
merchants and sea-borne corn, suffered heavily; the price of wheat rose from
the normal five drachmae a bushel to sixteen drachmae. The foreign merchants in
Athens seem to have behaved well; we hear of firms who offered to the State
10,000, 12,000, even 40,000 bushels of wheat at the normal price. Traders in
Phoenicia and Cyprus also rendered assistance, and Harpalus,
the head of Alexander’s civil administration, sent some corn and was rewarded
with citizenship. But the famine got beyond any private efforts; and in 328 a
Corn Commission was appointed with Demosthenes as Commissioner. To provide
funds a subscription, nominally voluntary, was called for; Demosthenes himself
gave a talent. With the proceeds corn was purchased at the prevailing high
prices and resold to the citizens at a low one. It was the first time this had
been done; it marked a stage on the road to free distribution. Apparently too the people were rationed. In 326 some of the new
quadriremes were used to convoy cornships; it may
have been on account of pirates, but the adventures of Heracleides of Salamis, whose ship was seized by the Heracleotes,
rather suggest that the cities were not averse from stealing each other’s corn
supplies. By 325 the scarcity seems to have been over. Athens however had been
thoroughly alarmed, and in 324 she sent a strong fleet under Miltiades, a
descendant of the victor of Marathon, to the Adriatic to found a colony there “in
order that Athens might at all times have her own supply of corn”. The colony
was to serve as a naval station from which to deal with the Etruscan corsairs
who were menacing Athenian trade; but in this attempt to tap the rich lands at
the head of the Adriatic, Athens was probably also seeking a field of supply
beyond the reach of the activities of Alexander, who controlled Egypt and
could, if he wished, by his hold on the Dardanelles, fetter the Black Sea
trade.
In 326
Lycurgus was not re-elected, and was succeeded by a personal enemy, Menesaechmus. Probably the connection of events is, that
few believed Alexander would return from India; that the war-party, the
radicals, were already becoming active by way of anticipation; and that Menesaechmus procured the rejection of Lycurgus by the aid
of that party. But the reason may only be that Lycurgus’ health was failing; he
died soon after 324. He took little further part in affairs, though when Menesaechmus impeached his accounts he had himself carried
to the Council Chamber and completely vindicated his integrity. Menesaechmus pursued him even after death, and had his
children imprisoned; Demosthenes, then in exile, procured their release by
representing the bad effect abroad of such ingratitude for Lycurgus’ services.
Lycurgus’ retirement left Demosthenes alone at the head of the democratic party
when the crisis came which is known as the affair of Harpalus.
V.
THE
AFFAIR OF HARPALUS
Harpalus had shared
the common belief that Alexander would not return, and had squandered the
Treasury funds on every sort of luxury. But he had gone far beyond riotous
living. He had acted as though king, and had had his successive mistresses, Pythionice and Glycera, treated
as queens; when Pythionice died he raised elaborate
monuments to her in Babylon and near Athens, and set up a temple to Pythionice Aphrodite; Glycera lived in the palace at Tarsus and was called queen, and those who approached
her had to prostrate themselves as though before the wife of the Great King.
Then, late in 325, came news that Alexander was on his way back. Harpalus fled, and in spring 324 appeared off Sunium with 30 warships, 6000 mercenaries, and 5000 talents
in gold which he had stolen. It was feared that he might try to seize the
Piraeus; and, on Demosthenes’ proposal, Philocles,
the general in command at the Piraeus, was charged not to admit him. Harpalus then sent his fleet and troops to Taenarum, and with two triremes and part of the gold
requested admittance as a suppliant. It was difficult to refuse admittance to a
citizen who came as a suppliant; and Philocles let
him in. Harpalus thereon offered Athens the aid of
his forces for war against Alexander, asserting that many of the satraps were
disaffected and would rise in support; it was evidently not yet known in Athens
how sternly Alexander was dealing with the disaffected, or that all the satraps
had had to disband their private troops. Undoubtedly too Harpalus began a campaign of bribery. The radicals, it seems, were anxious to accept his
offer, thinking the occasion propitious for war; but Demosthenes and Phocion,
who had throughout acted together, gauged the position more correctly. Then
Philoxenus, in command of Alexander’s sea-communications, sent to Athens and
demanded Harpalus’ surrender; and it was rumoured
that Alexander was preparing for a naval attack on Athens if she refused. The
situation was dangerous, for public opinion was against surrendering a
suppliant; finally, on Demosthenes’ proposal, it was resolved to detain Harpalus in prison and take charge of the gold till
Alexander sent for it. In reply to a question, Harpalus said that he had brought 700 talents; it does not follow that he told the
truth. Demosthenes was among those charged to convey the money to the
Parthenon; when deposited and counted it was found to be only 350 talents. This
fact however was not made public. It does not appear that Demosthenes was the
person whose obligation it was to make it public, though doubtless he could
have done so. But everyone believed that Harpalus had
been distributing bribes wholesale; and Demosthenes carried a proposal that the
Areopagus should inquire into the matter and report who had taken Harpalus’ money. About this time Harpalus escaped. It was easy to escape from prison at Athens, but who aided him is
unknown. He went back to his troops, and was subsequently murdered by his
lieutenant Thibron.
The situation
was now further complicated by the arrival of Alexander’s decree for the return
of the exiles, which affected every city of Greece, and with it the request for
divine honours for himself. The exiles decree excited uncompromising hostility
among Athenians, not because it was a breach of the Covenant, but because they
had expelled the Samians from their lands and colonized the island, and it
meant that they would have to restore Samos to the Samians. The grant of divine
honours was also opposed by Demosthenes and Lycurgus no less than by the
radicals. In September (324) Nicanor of Stagirus,
Aristotle’s son-in-law, appeared at the Olympia bearing Alexander’s decree; he
read it out to 20,000 exiles who had assembled to hear it, and who naturally
received it with enthusiasm. Demosthenes was at Olympia as head of the Athenian
religious envoys, and he had a conversation with Nicanor which apparently
affected him greatly; he saw that Alexander was in earnest, and that the risk
in opposing him was serious. To accept the exiles decree was indeed impossible,
in the face of public opinion at Athens; but it might placate Alexander if what
seemed at the moment the less important demand were granted. Consequently, when
the convenient Demades formally proposed that
Alexander should be a god, Demosthenes gave a contemptuous assent: “Let him be
son of Zeus, and of Poseidon too if he likes”. Thereon Alexander was deified at
Athens, though the story that he became a particular god, Dionysus, seems
unfounded. The other cities, even Sparta, made no difficulty about his
deification; and most of them prepared to receive back their exiles, glad that
this would at any rate entail the supersession of Antipater, and started to
decide the notoriously difficult question of what proportion of their former
property should be restored to them, Alexander having apparently indicated the
main lines on which decisions should be founded. At Tegea,
for instance, the exiles recovered half, claims being adjudicated by a
commission from another city. But one other people beside Athens was
irreconcilable; the Aetolians had taken Oeniadae from
Acarnania shortly before, and had no intention of restoring it. Early in 323
many embassies from Greece started for Babylon, partly to congratulate
Alexander, partly to submit to him questions arising out of the exiles’ return.
Whether Athens requested the retention of Samos is unknown; Perdiccas’ action
later shows that Alexander did not grant the request, if made.
Meanwhile at
Athens excitement had been growing over the Harpalus case, and the whole city rang with charges and countercharges of corruption. Demosthenes was accused among others, and proposed a second
decree ordering that the Areopagus should inquire into his case; he offered to
submit to the death-penalty if found guilty. At last the Areopagus, who had
delayed in the hope that matters would blow over, were forced by public opinion
to issue their report (winter 324—3), six months after the institution of the
inquiry. The report gave neither evidence nor reasons; it was merely a list of
names with a sum of money against each. Demosthenes’ name appeared with 20
talents against it; others named were Demades, Philocles, Phocion’s son-in-law Charicles (who had previously superintended for Harpalus the erection of Pythionice’s monument), and the orator Hagnonides. Demosthenes had
acted throughout in conjunction with Phocion, who, though known to be
incorruptible, was affected through Charicles; and as Demades also was involved, it meant that the radicals
(whom Harpalus had not needed to bribe) were the only
party not under suspicion. Thereon the radicals carried the Assembly, which
appointed their leader Hypereides and nine others to
prosecute those named in the report. The prosecutors were not an imposing body;
the only well-known names among the nine were Menesaechmus,
who was to disgrace himself by his treatment of Lycurgus’ children, Pytheas, who became a creature of Antipater’s, and Stratocles, of evil notoriety later. Hypereides alone gave weight to the prosecution. Though immoral in private life, he was in
his public life honest, sincere, and patriotic; but he was headstrong and
impulsive. He probably believed quite genuinely that a good opportunity to
fight had been lost, and by Demosthenes’ fault. It leaves an unfortunate
impression that he should prosecute Demosthenes, after their close association
at the time of Chaeronea; but they had steadily drifted apart, for he had no
sympathy with Demosthenes’ view that Athens must not fight unless a favourable
chance offered; and he probably thought that he was putting country before
friendship.
Demosthenes’
case was heard first, as a test. The speech of Stratocles,
who spoke first, is lost; possibly he outlined the evidence on which the
prosecution relied, but there is nothing to show. Demosthenes’ speech is also
lost; we really therefore know almost nothing of the case made by either side.
All we possess is parts of Hypereides’ speech, which
took the line that Demosthenes had disgraced democracy, and a bitter speech
written by Deinarchus for one of the prosecutors, which argued that Demosthenes
was a pro-Macedonian. The jury condemned Demosthenes to a fine of 50 talents;
he could not pay, and went into exile to Aegina. Demades and Philocles were also condemned; Demades paid his fine and stayed in Athens.
The question
of the guilt or innocence of Demosthenes has been passionately argued ever
since; but in fact we have not the material to arrive at a conclusion. Two
things may first be set aside altogether. One is Pausanias’ statement that
Philoxenus obtained from Harpalus’ confidential slave
a list of those bribed, and Demosthenes’ name was not among them. The source of
this is unknown, and Pausanias is poor historical authority; but, even if true
(and Harpalus’ slaves apparently were sent to
Alexander), it is susceptible of more than one explanation. The other is the
common belief that Demosthenes was not bribed, but that he did take the money,
though for the Theoric fund and not for himself,—a belief based on Hypereides’ statement that Demosthenes admitted having done
so. Now Hypereides was counsel for the prosecution,
and a statement by counsel is not evidence; and if this be so today, when
counsel for the prosecution only states what he hopes to prove, far more was it
so at Athens, where it was habitual to attempt to create prejudice. It is true
that, if counsel for the prosecution deals by anticipation with the defence, he
must for his own sake state it correctly, if he knows it; in the absence of
written pleadings he sometimes does not know it. But in fact Hypereides does not even say that this was Demosthenes’
defence. He believes that that defence was to be a denial by Demosthenes that
he ever had the money, and a plea that he was being sacrificed to appease
Alexander; and he adds, as an argument of his own, the statement that
Demosthenes had stultified that defence by a previous admission of guilt. And
he does not make even this statement without reservation; he qualifies it by
saying “so I believe”. This statement is not evidence for anything; neither is Hypereides’ further assertion that Cnosion confirmed Demosthenes’ admission; what we want is Cnosion’s evidence, and particularly his cross-examination, had such a thing been known.
There is absolutely nothing to justify the belief that Demosthenes admitted
taking the money for patriotic purposes, to help form a war fund. Incidentally,
of what use were 20 talents for a first-class war ? He could have had the whole
5000 openly, had he wished.
To come to
what is known. We know neither what proof the prosecution offered, nor
Demosthenes’ defence. We do know that the prosecution drew such a vague
indictment that Demosthenes very properly asked for particulars; this does not
argue any special confidence on their part. The fact that the jury convicted
means nothing, for they admittedly treated the matter as res judicata, decided
by the Areopagus’ report; but the further fact that, when they could have
inflicted the death-penalty or a fine of 200 talents, they fined Demosthenes 50
talents only, does not suggest any great measure of conviction on their own
part. We are really thrown back simply on the report of the Areopagus, which,
be it remembered, Demosthenes had himself called for. All we know about it is
this. They searched the houses of the accused for the money. They apparently
questioned Demosthenes, and therefore presumably others also. They desired, but
failed, to let the matter blow over. And they gave no reasons in their report.
Was that report a judicial finding based on evidence, or was it a piece of
politics, a sacrifice offered to Alexander? That is the whole question; and we
do not know, and probably never shall know.
VI.
THE
LAMIAN WAR
This trial
dealt the final blow to the coalition government at Athens; the radicals,
supported by most of the democrats, controlled the Assembly, and Hypereides henceforth held the real power. He got rid of Demades by three prosecutions for illegality, which
disfranchised him; later on he attacked Pytheas, who
fled to Antipater. Then in the summer of 323 came the report of Alexander’s
death. Some refused to believe it; were it true, said Demades,
the whole world would reek of the corpse. But the excitement was great; and
Phocion in vain tried to gain time for reflection by suggesting that if
Alexander were really dead today he would also be dead tomorrow. Hypereides and the war party were in no mood for
reflection; and even before the news was confirmed they sent for Leosthenes. Leosthenes the
Athenian appears in the tradition as a mystery. He may be the Leosthenes who was general in 324—3, but his previous
career is nowhere revealed; even in the Funeral Oration Hypereides only says of him that Athens needed a man, and the man came. But he appears as
one with special influence among mercenaries and with an unquestioned military
reputation, and there can be little doubt what he really was: he had been a
commander of mercenaries under Alexander and had learnt in his school. Some
8000 mercenaries, largely veteran troops discharged by Alexander’s satraps,
were camped at Taenarum, the usual rendezvous of
mercenaries awaiting employment; possibly Leosthenes had brought them from Asia himself. He now received 50 talents, and undertook
to make sure of the 8000. Then, about September, came eye-witnesses of
Alexander’s death; and the Assembly met to decide on peace or war. Phocion
pleaded hard for peace; but Leosthenes’ assurance
carried the day. The Assembly voted war; they declared that the aim of the
People was the common freedom of Hellas and the liberation of the cities
garrisoned by Antipater, and they ordered the mobilization of 200 triremes, 40
quadriremes, and all citizens under 40; three tribes were to guard Attica, and
seven to be available for service abroad. Harpalus’
gold was appropriated for the war fund, and Leosthenes was supplied with arms and money and told to begin operations.
With this
decree the Hellenic (commonly called the Lamian) war
was fairly launched, and Lycurgus’ twelve years of patient work bore their
fruit. It is natural now to feel that Athens should have waited for the war
between the Successors to break out; but that could not be foreseen. Athens
took the right course of applying at once to Aetolia, who concluded an alliance
with her. But as usual only two of the four chief military states could be
brought into line; Sparta could not or would not move, and Thebes no longer
existed. One would like to treat this war as simply a struggle for Greek
freedom; but it is unfortunately probable that Athens and Aetolia were thinking
a good deal of Samos and Oeniadae, and that the
exiles decree counted for much in the movement. The returning exiles,
Macedonia’s enemies, of course counted for something also; thus at Sicyon one
of them, Euphron, expelled the tyrant’s garrison and
brought Sicyon, first of the Peloponnesian cities, over to Athens. But probably
the mercenaries counted for more. The great rising of Greek mercenaries in
Bactria after Alexander’s death may well be connected with this war; but if the
two movements were really one, then Leosthenes and
the other leaders of the mercenaries must have begun to plan that movement
before Alexander died, perhaps even as early as the confusions of spring 324;
we may possibly have before us a general attempt by the world of mercenaries to
reverse the verdict of Issus, especially if the surviving mercenaries from
Issus were in Bactria. It is all hypothetical; but Hypereides treats Leosthenes as author of the policy which
resulted in the Lamian war; and if there were really
a greater plan as early as 324, and Hypereides knew
of it, his desire to accept Harpalus’ offer and his
prosecution of Demosthenes would assume a new aspect.
The Hellenic
alliance took months to form; but the states which ultimately took part in the
war, beside Athens and Aetolia, were:—Thessaly and all the peoples north and
west of Boeotia, except most of Acarnania and certain cities like Lamia and Heraclea, which Antipater had probably
garrisoned; Leucas; Carystus and perhaps Histiaea in
Euboea; and, in the Peloponnese, Sicyon, Elis, Messenia, Argos, and the
neighbouring coast cities. Some Illyrians and Thracians offered help; but Seuthes was probably kept occupied by Lysimachus. Sparta’s
neutrality neutralized Arcadia, who dared not send her men north with Sparta
uncertain; for the same reason it is improbable that Messenia sent troops.
Antipater’s garrisons in Corinth, Chalcis, and the Cadmea held Corinth, Megara, and most of Euboea to him, while Boeotia was heartily on
his side, for the Boeotian cities had divided up the Theban territory, and they
feared that Athens, if victorious, would restore Thebes. No island joined the
alliance. The allies tore up the Covenant of the League of Corinth, and formed
a new Hellenic League, with a Council and delegates; but its organization is
unknown, and the Council may have been only a war council. One unhappy
consequence of the war was that Aristotle had to leave Athens and retire to Chalcis,
where he died next year, a homeless man.
Antipater was
in a difficult position. Macedonia had been drained of men, and he had only
13,000 foot and 600 horse. He sent word to Craterus,
who with his 10,000 veterans had reached Cilicia, to hasten his march, and
applied for help to Leonnatus, now satrap of Hellespontine Phrygia, which suited Leonnatus very well, as he dreamt of the throne of Macedonia. Antipater himself after
some delay entered Thessaly, where 2000 cavalry, many of them Alexander’s
veterans, joined him under Menon, Pyrrhus’ maternal grandfather. But Leosthenes had made good use of the delay. He had shipped
his 8000 mercenaries to Aetolia, where 7000 Aetolians joined him, and had
seized Thermopylae; Phocis and Locris then rose, and Delphi cancelled the
honours previously paid to Aristotle,—a natural enough step to take against
Antipater’s friend, but none the less regrettable, though there were
precedents. Athens now sent 5500 citizen troops and 2000 mercenaries to join Leosthenes; but their way was barred by the commander of
the Cadmea garrison with a force of Boeotians and
Euboeans. Leosthenes hurried back with part of his
army, joined the Athenians, and defeated the enemy; a little later a force from
Chalcis was landed at Rhamnus, but defeated by Phocion. Leosthenes,
after his victory, advanced through Thermopylae to meet Antipater, who gave
battle; Menon and the Thessalians rode over to the Greeks, and Antipater was
defeated and shut up in Lamia. About November Sicyon
joined the alliance, and Athenian envoys were active in the Peloponnese;
Antipater had sent Pytheas there to try and save
Arcadia, and Demosthenes on his own account went to Arcadia to try and obtain
its alliance. He could only secure its neutrality; but the Athenians in
gratitude voted his recall and sent a trireme to fetch him. He landed at the
Piraeus, and was met by all the magistrates and a great crowd of people; his
entry into Athens was a triumphal progress. The State paid his fine.
The blockade
of Lamia lasted through the winter, Leosthenes having no siege-train; Alexander would have made
one. Antipater offered to treat, but Leosthenes demanded unconditional surrender; possibly he did not know that Peithon had crushed the rising in Bactria. It was the
crucial point of the war; for Antipater could and would have kept any terms he
made, and complete freedom might possibly have been secured. Then Leosthenes was killed in repulsing a sally, a heavy blow; Antiphilus, who succeeded, was competent, but did not carry
weight enough to keep all the allies together; the Aetolians went home during
the siege through some “national necessity”,— presumably the usual Acarnanian
invasion,—and other allies also. Early in 322 Leonnatus crossed the Dardanelles, gathering reinforcements as he came; he had 20,000
infantry, partly Macedonians, but only 1500 horse. Antiphilus with 22,000 foot and 3500 horse, having raised the siege, met and defeated him,
thanks to the Thessalian cavalry, and Leonnatus was
killed; but Antipater, who had followed Antiphilus,
succeeded in joining the beaten army. He had however not cavalry enough to risk
another engagement, and retreated into Macedonia to re-organize and await Craterus; and the campaign ended on a note of triumph for
the Greeks, reflected in the Funeral Oration spoken by Hypereides over Leosthenes and the dead.
The Hellenic
League should have easily raised 40,000 men, including the mercenaries; but it
never did. Some Aetolians possibly rejoined before Crannon; but it does not appear that the other allies,
apart from Aetolia, ever furnished more than some 7000—8000 men. The brunt of
the war was borne by Athens, Thessaly, and the mercenaries; one Athenian fleet
watched the Dardanelles, and won over Abydos, and another possibly cooperated
with Leosthenes. But Antipater had 110 ships of
Alexander’s, and he had been reinforced by part of the Imperial fleet,
presumably including quinqueremes, under Cleitus; and
in spring 322 Cleitus severely defeated the Athenian
fleet under Euetion off Abydos. Soon after Craterus crossed with his 10,000 veterans, 1000 Persians,
and 1500 horse, and joined Antipater, to whom he conceded the supreme command.
The shattered Athenian fleet had returned home; by a great effort Athens again
manned 170 ships, metics helping to supply rowers
(probably slaves), and Euetion took station at Samos,
presumably to intercept reinforcements coming to Cleitus from Phoenicia. Off Amorgos Cleitus met him with 240
ships, probably about July, and defeated him with heavy loss. It was more than
the decisive event of the war; it was the end of Athenian sea-power. Athens’
navy never recovered from the blow; the Aegean henceforth becomes Macedonian. Cleitus made his triumphal offerings on Delos, and must
have at once blockaded the Piraeus1. In the summer Antipater and Craterus again invaded Thessaly with over 43,000 foot and
5000 horse (possibly an exaggeration); Antiphilus and
Menon met them at Crannon with 23,000 foot and 3500
horse. They expected further reinforcements; but, with the sea lost, the
Peloponnesians could not pass the Isthmus, and the blockade of the Piraeus
prevented them waiting. The position was that only a crushing victory, leading
to Antipater’s surrender, could save Athens from strangulation. Thanks to the
Thessalians, the actual battle of Crannon, fought in
August on the anniversary of Chaeronea, was little more than a draw in
Antipater’s favour; but it sufficed, and the Greek leaders had to make terms.
Antipater declared that he would not treat with the Hellenic League, but only
with the separate states, and the League thereon broke up; the smaller states
hastened to make their peace, though some Thessalian towns, and subsequently
Sicyon, where Euphron died fighting, had to be
stormed.
Once again
Athens called on Demades for help. His civic rights were restored, and with Phocion and Demetrius
of Phalerum, an oligarch now coming into prominence,
he went to Antipater, who had entered Boeotia. Antipater in his turn demanded
unconditional surrender, but agreed, out of personal respect for Phocion, not
to invade Attica. The position at sea left Athens no choice, and Phocion
returned to make submission; Demades apparently wrote
secretly to Perdiccas for help, but got no satisfaction. Antipater proceeded to
dictate his terms. The constitution was to be drastically altered, and a
Macedonian garrison was to occupy Munychia; Athens
was to pay the costs of the war (a payment remitted later on Phocion’s appeal), receive back her exiles, hand over
Oropus to Boeotia, and surrender the orators, who were regarded as the authors
of the war; Samos was referred to the kings, and Perdiccas restored the
Samians. In brief, Antipater applied to Athens his system of maintaining in
power an oligarchy friendly to Macedonia, supported by a Macedonian garrison;
it seems that many other towns were similarly treated. His aim was to secure
peace by making the individual towns dependent on Macedonia; and he attempted
no comprehensive system, though one account says he had a governor in the
Peloponnese. In September 322, on the first day of the Eleusinian mysteries,
the foreign garrison under Menyllus entered Munychia, not to quit it for fifteen years.
But Aetolia,
though isolated, fought on. Antipater and Craterus invaded the country, but were recalled in winter by events in Asia; and in 321
the Aetolians, now Perdiccas’ allies, again raised Thessaly, and had some
success. But they were called home by the usual Acarnanian invasion; and
Polyperchon, whom Antipater had left in charge of Macedonia, defeated the Thessalians,
Menon falling in the battle, and recovered Thessaly; this victory over the
renowned Thessalian cavalry gave him a great reputation. But Aetolia itself
remained unconquered, the one refuge left for Antipater’s enemies. Outside
Sparta and Aetolia, there was little enough liberty now in Greece.
At Athens,
though the oligarchs at once took control and honoured Antipater as a
benefactor of the city, the new constitution probably did not come into force
till 321. The franchise was restricted to those who had 2000 drachmae, i.e. to the three classes liable to hoplite service; this reduced the citizen body
to 9000, a narrow oligarchy of wealth, and disfranchised 22,000. It was treated
as a return to Solon’s constitution. The jury courts were emptied, and
surpluses were no longer distributed, there being no poor citizens. There were
not indeed citizens enough to fill all the offices, and many were abolished;
rotation by tribes ceased, and probably election by lot also. The astynomi and the eleven vanished, their duties being
transferred to the agoranomi and the Areopagus
respectively; possibly too the financial boards, the apodectae and the theoric commissioners, were abolished, and
only the military steward retained, but there is really nothing to show how
finance was administered. Many of the disfranchised went into exile; Antipater
offered land in Thrace to those who would, and some later joined Ophelias in Cyrene.
Demosthenes, Hypereides, and their friends had fled from Athens when she
surrendered, and the people, on Demades’ motion,
condemned them to death. A nominal death-sentence, coupled with voluntary
exile, was a well-understood form, which they probably thought would satisfy
Antipater. But the Macedonian was in earnest; he took the death-sentence
literally, and proceeded to execute it himself. Hypereides was taken and put to death; Hagnonides’ life was
saved by Phocion. Demosthenes took refuge in the temple of Poseidon at Calauria, where he was found by Antipater’s agent Archias, the “hunter of exiles”, who tried to induce him to
leave the sanctuary. Demosthenes asked for time to write a letter, and took
poison which he carried in his pen; he then attempted to leave the temple to
avoid polluting it, but fell dead by the altar (12 October 322). The great
orator had not been an attractive character; and his faults,—his deceptions of
the people by falsifying what had happened, his bitterness, his ungenerous
attitude toward his opponents,—had not been small ones. But one supreme thing
he had done. Amid all the difficulties created by the constitution of his city,
and in the face of very superior force, he had fought to the end, unwavering
and unafraid, for his ideal, the good of his country as he saw it. Undeterred
by the defeat of Chaeronea, he had aided Lycurgus soberly and patiently so to
strengthen Athens that a second attempt should be practicable; and when that
second attempt was made by others, he was high-minded enough to put himself
aside and work with the man who had impeached and exiled him, for Athens’ sake.
His very faults all sprang from the excess of his loyalty and devotion to his
country. He failed; but the gods gave him one of their highest gifts, to fail
greatly in a great cause.
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