The CDPD Public Domain Collection for CDTV 3/CDPDIII.bin/books/plutarch/philopoemen

Text File | 1992-07-31 | 46KB | 691 lines

                                      75 AD
                                  PHILOPOEMEN
                                 253?-183 B.C.
                                  by Plutarch
                           translated by John Dryden
PHILOPOEMEN

  CLEANDER was a man of high birth and great power in the city of
Mantinea, but by the chances of the time happened to be driven from
thence. There being an intimate friendship betwixt him and Craugis,
the father of Philopoemen, who was a person of great distinction, he
settled at Megalopolis, where, while his friend lived, he had all he
could desire. When Craugis died, he repaid the father's hospitable
kindness in the care of the orphan son; by which means Philopoemen was
educated by him, as Homer says Achilles was by Phoenix, and from his
infancy moulded to lofty and noble inclinations. But Ecdemus and
Demophanes had the principal tuition of him, after he was past the
years of childhood. They were both Megalopolitans; they had been
scholars in the academic philosophy, and friends to Arcesilaus, and
had, more than any of their contemporaries, brought philosophy to bear
upon action and state affairs. They had freed their country from
tyranny by the death of Aristodemus, whom they caused to be killed;
they had assisted Aratus in driving out the tyrant Nicocles from
Sicyon; and, at the request of the Cyreneans, whose city was in a
state of extreme disorder and confusion, went thither by sea, and
succeeded in establishing good government and happily settling their
commonwealth. And among their best actions they themselves counted the
education of Philopoemen, thinking they had done a general good to
Greece by giving him the nurture of philosophy. And indeed all
Greece (which looked upon him as a kind of latter birth brought forth,
after so many noble leaders, in her decrepit age) loved him
wonderfully; and, as his glory grew, increased his power. And one of
the Romans, to praise him, calls him the last of the Greeks; as if
after him Greece had produced no great man, nor who deserved the
name of Greek.
  His person was not, as some fancy, deformed; for his likeness is yet
to be seen at Delphi. The mistake of the hostess of Megara was
occasioned, it would seem, merely by his easiness of temper and his
plain manners. This hostess having word brought her that the general
of the Achaeans was coming to her house in the absence of her husband,
was all in a hurry about providing his supper. Philopoemen, in an
ordinary cloak, arriving in this point of time, she took him for one
of his own train who had been sent on before, and bid him lend her his
hand in her household work. He forthwith threw off his cloak, and fell
to cutting up the firewood. The husband returning, and seeing him at
it, "What," says he, "may this mean, O Philopoemen?" "I am," replied
he in his Doric dialect, "paying the penalty of my ugly looks."
Titus Flamininus, jesting with him upon his figure, told him one day
he had well-shaped hands and feet, but no belly: and he was indeed
slender in the waist. But this raillery was meant to the poverty of
his fortune; for he had good horse and foot, but often wanted money to
entertain and play them. These are common anecdotes told of
Philopoemen.
  The love of honour and distinction was, in his character, not
unalloyed with feelings of personal rivalry and resentment. He made
Epaminondas his great example, and came not far behind him in
activity, sagacity, and incorruptible integrity; but his hot
contentious temper continually carried him out of the bounds of that
gentleness, composure, and humanity which had marked Epaminondas,
and this made him thought a pattern rather of military than of civil
virtue. He was strongly inclined to the life of a soldier even from
his childhood, and he studied and practised all that belonged to it,
taking great delight in managing of horses and handling of weapons.
Because he was naturally fitted to excel in wrestling, some of his
friends and tutors recommended his attention to athletic exercises.
But he would first be satisfied whether it would not interfere with
his becoming a good soldier. They told him, as was the truth, that the
one life was directly opposite to the other; the requisite state of
body, the ways of living, and the exercises all different: the
professed athlete sleeping much and feeding plentifully, punctually
regular in his set times of exercise and rest, and apt to spoil all by
every little excess or breach of his usual method; whereas the soldier
ought to train himself in every variety of change and irregularity,
and, above all, to bring himself to endure hunger and loss of sleep
without difficulty. Philopoemen, hearing this, not only laid by all
thoughts of wrestling and contemned it then, but when he came to be
general, discouraged it by all marks of reproach and dishonour he
could imagine, as a thing which made men, otherwise excellently fit
for war, to be utterly useless and unable to fight on necessary
occasions.
  When he left off his masters and teachers, and began to bear arms in
the incursions which his citizens used to make upon the Lacedaemonians
for pillage and plunder, he would always march out the first and
return the last. When there was nothing to do, he sought to harden his
body, and make it strong and active by hunting, or labouring in his
ground. He had a good estate about twenty furlongs from the town,
and thither he would go every day after dinner and supper; and when
night came, throw himself upon the first mattress in his way, and
there sleep as one of the labourers. At break of day he would rise
with the rest, and work either in the vineyard or at the plough;
from thence return again to the town, and employ his time with his
friends or the magistrates in public business. What he got in the wars
he laid out on horses, or arms, or in ransoming captives; but
endeavoured to improve his own property the justest way, by tillage;
and this not slightly, by way of diversion, but thinking it his strict
duty so to manage his own fortune as to be out of the temptation of
wronging others.
  He spent much time on eloquence and philosophy, but selected his
authors, and cared only for those by whom he might profit in virtue.
In Homer's fictions his attention was given to whatever he thought apt
to raise the courage. Of all other books he was most devoted to the
commentaries of Evangelus on military tactics, and took delight, at
leisure hours, in the histories of Alexander; thinking that such
reading, unless undertaken for mere amusement and idle conversation,
was to the purpose for action. Even in speculations on military
subjects it was his habit to neglect maps and diagrams, and to put the
theorems to practical proof on the ground itself. He would be
exercising his thoughts and considering as he travelled, and arguing
with those about him of the difficulties of steep or broken ground,
what might happen at rivers, ditches, or mountain-passes, in
marching in close or in open, in this or in that particular form of
battle. The truth is, he indeed took an immoderate pleasure in
military operations and in warfare, to which he devoted himself, as
the special means for exercising all sorts of virtue, and utterly
contemned those who were not soldiers, as drones and useless in the
commonwealth.
  When he was thirty years of age, Cleomenes, King of the
Lacedaemonians, surprised Megalopolis by night, forced the guards,
broke in, and seized the market-place. Philopoemen came out upon the
alarm, and fought with desperate courage, but could not beat the enemy
out again; yet he succeeded in effecting the escape of the citizens,
who got away while he made head against the pursuers, and amused
Cleomenes, till, after losing his horse and receiving several
wounds, with much ado he came off himself, being the last man in the
retreat. The Megalopolitans escaped to Messene, whither Cleomenes sent
to offer them their town and goods again. Philopoemen perceiving
them to be only too glad at the news, and eager to return, checked
them with a speech, in which he made them sensible, that what
Cleomenes called restoring the city was, rather, possessing himself of
the citizens; and through their means securing also the city for the
future. The mere solitude would, of itself, ere long force him away,
since there was no staying to guard empty houses and naked walls.
These reasons withheld the Megalopolitans, but gave Cleomenes a
pretext to pillage and destroy a great part of the city, and carry
away a great booty.
  Awhile after King Antigonus coming down to succour the Achaeans,
they marched with their united forces against Cleomenes; who, having
seized the avenues, lay advantageously posted on the hills of
Sellasia. Antigonus drew up close by him, with a resolution to force
him in his strength. Philopoemen, with his citizens, was that day
placed among the horse, next to the Illyrian foot, a numerous body
of bold fighters who completed the line of battle, forming, together
with the Achaeans, the reserve. Their orders were to keep their
ground, and not engage till from the other wing, where the king fought
in person, they should see a red coat lifted up on the point of a
spear. The Achaeans obeyed their order and stood fast, but the
Illyrians were led on by their commanders to the attack. Euclides, the
brother of Cleomenes, seeing the foot thus severed from the horse,
detached the best of his light-armed men, commanding them to wheel
about, and charge the unprotected Illyrians in the rear. This charge
putting things in confusion, Philopoemen, considering those
light-armed men would be easily repelled, went first to the king's
officers to make them sensible what the occasion required. But they
not minding what he said, but slighting him as a hare-brained fellow
(as indeed he was not yet of any repute sufficient to give credit to a
proposal of such importance), he charged with his own citizens, at the
first encounter disordered, and soon after put the troops to flight
with great slaughter. Then, to encourage the king's army further, to
bring them all upon the enemy while he was in confusion, he quitted
his horse, and fighting with extreme difficulty in his heavy
horseman's dress, in rough uneven ground, full of water-courses and
hollows, had both his thighs struck through with a thonged javelin. It
was thrown with great force, so that the head came out on the other
side, and made a severe, though not a mortal, wound. There he stood
awhile, as if he had been shackled, unable to move. The fastening
which joined the thong to the javelin made it difficult to get it
drawn out, nor would any about him venture to do it. But the fight
being now at the hottest, and likely to be quickly decided, he was
transported with the desire of partaking in it, and struggled and
strained so violently, setting one leg forward, the other back, that
at last he broke the shaft in two; and thus, got the pieces pulled
out. Being in this manner set at liberty, he caught up his sword,
and running through the midst of those who were fighting in the
first ranks, animated his men, and set them afire with emulation.
Antigonus after the victory asked the Macedonians, to try them, how it
happened the horse had charged without orders before the signal?
They answering, that they were against their wills forced to it by a
young man of Megalopolis, who had fallen in before his time: "This
young man," replied Antigonus, smiling, "did like an experienced
commander."
  This, as was natural, brought Philopoemen into great reputation.
Antigonus was earnest to have him in his service, and offered him very
advantageous conditions, both as to command and pay. But
Philopoemen, who knew that his nature brooked not to be under another,
would not accept them; yet not enduring to live idle, and hearing of
wars in Crete for practice' sake he passed over thither. He spent some
time among those very warlike, and, at the same time, sober and
temperate men, improving much by experience in all sorts of service;
and then returned with so much fame that the Achaeans presently
chose him commander of the horse. These horsemen at that time had
neither experience nor bravery, it being the custom to take any common
horses, the first and cheapest they could procure, when they were to
march; and on almost all occasions they did not go themselves, but
hired others in their places, and stayed at home. Their former
commanders winked at this, because, it being an honour among the
Achaeans to serve on horseback, these men had great power in the
commonwealth, and were able to gratify or molest whom they pleased.
Philopoemen, finding them in this condition, yielded not to any such
considerations, nor would pass it over as formerly; but went himself
from town to town, where, speaking with the young men, one by one,
he endeavoured to excite a spirit of ambition and love of honour among
them, using punishment also, where it was necessary. And then by
public exercises, reviews, and contests in the presence of numerous
spectators, in a little time he made them wonderfully strong and bold,
and, which is reckoned of greatest consequence in military service,
light and agile. With use and industry they grew so perfect, to such a
command of their horses, such a ready exactness in wheeling round in
their troops, that in any change of posture the whole body seemed to
move with all the facility and promptitude, and, as it were, with
the single will of one man. In the great battle which they fought with
the Aetolians and Eleans by the river Larissus, he set them an example
himself. Damophantus, general of the Elean horse, singled out
Philopoemen, and rode with full speed at him. Philopoemen awaited
his charge, and, before receiving the stroke, with a violent blow of
his spear threw him dead to the ground: upon whose fall the enemy fled
immediately. And now Philopoemen was in everybody's mouth, as a man
who in actual fighting with his own hand yielded not to the
youngest, nor in good conduct to the oldest, and there came not into
the field any better soldier or commander.
  Aratus, indeed, was the first who raised the Achaeans,
inconsiderable till then, into reputation and power, by uniting
their divided cities into one commonwealth, and establishing amongst
them a humane and truly Grecian form of government; and hence it
happened, as in running waters, where, when a few little particles
of matter once stop, others stick to them, and one part
strengthening another, the whole becomes firm and solid; so in a
general weakness, when every city relying only on itself, all Greece
was giving way to an easy dissolution, the Achaeans, first forming
themselves into a body, and then drawing in their neighbours round
about, some by protection, delivering them from their tyrants,
others by peaceful consent and by naturalization, designed at last
to bring all Peloponnesus into one community. Yet while Aratus
lived, they depended much on the Macedonians, courting first
Ptolemy, then Antigonus and Philip, who all took part continually in
whatever concerned the affairs of Greece. But when Philopoemen came to
a command, the Achaeans, feeling themselves a match for the most
powerful of their enemies, declined foreign support. The truth is,
Aratus, as we have written in his life, was not of so warlike a
temper, but did most by policy and gentleness, and friendships with
foreign princes; but Philopoemen being a man both of execution and
command, a great soldier, and fortunate in his first attempts,
wonderfully heightened both the power and courage of the Achaeans,
accustomed to victory under his conduct.
  But first he altered what he found amiss in their arms and form of
battle. Hitherto they had used light, thin bucklers, too narrow to
cover the body, and javelins much shorter than pikes. By which means
they were skilful in skirmishing at a distance, but in a close fight
had much the disadvantage. Then in drawing their forces up for battle,
they were never accustomed to form in regular divisions; and their
line being unprotected either by the thick array of projecting
spears or by their shields, as in the Macedonian phalanx, where the
soldiers close and their shields touch, they were easily opened and
broken. Philopoemen reformed all this, persuading them to change the
narrow target and short javelin into a large shield and long pike;
to arm their heads, bodies, thighs, and legs; and instead of loose
skirmishing, fight firmly and foot to foot. After he had brought
them all to wear full armour, and by that means into the confidence of
thinking themselves now invincible, he turned what before had been
idle profusion and luxury into an honourable expense. For being long
used to vie with each other in their dress, and furniture of their
houses, and service of their tables, and to glory in outdoing one
another, the disease by custom was grown incurable, and there was no
possibility of removing it altogether. But he diverted the passion,
and brought them, instead of these superfluities, to love useful and
more manly display, and reducing their other expenses, to take delight
in appearing magnificent in their equipage of war. Nothing then was to
be seen in the shops but plate breaking up, or melting down, gilding
of breastplate, and studding bucklers and bits with silver; nothing in
the places of exercise, but horses managing, and young men
exercising their arms; nothing in the hands of the women, but
helmets and crests of feathers to be dyed, and military cloaks and
riding-frocks to be embroidered; the very sight of all which,
quickening and raising their spirits, made them contemn dangers, and
feel ready to venture on any honourable dangers. Other kinds of
sumptuosity give us pleasure, but make us effeminate; the tickling
of the sense slackening the vigour of the mind; but magnificence of
this kind strengthens and heightens the courage; as Homer makes
Achilles at the sight of his new arms exulting with joy, and on fire
to use them. When Philopoemen had obtained of them to arm, and set
themselves out in this manner, he proceeded to train them, mustering
and exercising them perpetually; in which they obeyed him with great
zeal and eagerness. For they were wonderfully pleased with their new
form of battle, which being so knit and cemented together, seemed
almost incapable of being broken. And then their arms, which for their
riches and beauty they wore with pleasure, becoming light and easy
to them with constant use, they longed for nothing more than to try
them with an enemy, and fight in earnest.
  The Achaeans at that time were at war with Machanidas, the tyrant of
Lacedaemon, who, having a strong army, watched all opportunities of
becoming entire master of Peloponnesus. When intelligence came that he
was fallen upon the Mantineans, Philopoemen forthwith took the
field, and marched towards him. They met near Mantinea, and drew up in
sight of the city. Both, besides the whole strength of their several
cities, had a good number of mercenaries in pay. When they came to
fall on, Machanidas, with his hired soldiers, beat the spearmen and
the Tarentines whom Philopoemen had placed in the front. But when he
should have charged immediately into the main battle, which stood
close and firm, he hotly followed the chase; and instead of
attacking the Achaeans, passed on beyond them, while they remained
drawn up in their place. With so untoward a beginning the rest of
the confederates gave themselves up for lost; but Philopoemen,
professing to make it a matter of small consequence, and observing the
enemy's oversight, who had thus left an opening in their main body,
and exposed their own phalanx, made no sort of motion to oppose
them, but let them pursue the chase freely, till they had placed
themselves at a great distance from him. Then seeing the
Lacedaemonians before him deserted by their horse, with their flanks
quite bare, he charged suddenly, and surprised them without a
commander, and not so much as expecting an encounter, as, when they
saw Machanidas driving the beaten enemy before him, they thought the
victory already gained. He overthrew them with great slaughter (they
report above four thousand killed in the place), and then faced
about against Machanidas, who was returning with his mercenaries
from the pursuit. There happened to be a broad deep ditch between
them, alongside of which both rode their horses for a while, the one
trying to get over and fly, the other to hinder him. It looked less
like the contest between two generals than like the last defence of
some wild beast brought to bay by the keen huntsman Philopoemen, and
forced to fight for his life. The tyrant's horse was mettled and
strong; and feeling the bloody spurs in his sides, ventured to take
the ditch. He had already so far reached the other side, as to have
planted his fore-feet upon it, and was struggling to raise himself
with these, when Simmias and Polyaenus, who used to fight by the
side of Philopoemen, came up on horseback to his assistance. But
Philopoemen, before either of them, himself met Machanidas; and
perceiving that the horse with his head high reared covered his
master's body, turned his own a little, and holding his javelin by the
middle, drove it against the tyrant with all his force, and tumbled
him dead into the ditch. Such is the precise posture in which he
stands at Delphi in the brazen statue which the Achaeans set up of
him, in admiration of his valour in this single combat, and conduct
during the whole day.
  We are told that at the Nemean games, a little after this victory,
Philopoemen being then general the second time, and at leisure on
the occasion of the solemnity, first showed the Greeks his army
drawn up in full array as if they were to fight, and executed with
it all the manoeuvres of a battle with wonderful order, strength,
and celerity. After which he went into the theatre, while the
musicians were singing for the prize, followed by the young soldiers
in their military cloaks and their scarlet frocks under their
armour, all in the very height of bodily vigour, and much alike in
age, showing a high respect to their general; yet breathing at the
same time a noble confidence in themselves, raised by success in
many glorious encounters. Just at their coming in, it so happened that
the musician Pylades, with a voice well suited to the lofty style of
poet, was in the act of commencing the Persians of Timotheus-

         "Under his conduct Greece was glorious and was free."

The whole theatre at once turned to look at Philopoemen, and clapped
with delight; their hopes venturing once more to return to their
country's former reputation; and their feelings almost rising to the
height of their ancient spirit.
  It was with the Achaeans as with young horses, which go quietly with
their usual riders, but grow unruly and restive under strangers. The
soldiers, when any service was in hand, and Philopoemen not at their
head, grew dejected and looked about for him; but if he once appeared,
came presently to themselves, and recovered their confidence and
courage, being sensible that this was the only one of their commanders
whom the enemy could not endure to face; but, as appeared in several
occasions, were frighted with his very name. Thus we find that Philip,
King of Macedon, thinking to terrify the Achaeans into subjection
again, if he could rid his hands of Philopoemen, employed some persons
privately to assassinate him. But the treachery coming to light, he
became infamous, and lost his character through Greece. The
Boeotians besieging Megara, and ready to carry the town by storm, upon
a groundless rumour that Philopoemen was at hand with succour, ran
away, and left their scaling ladders at the wall behind them. Nabis
(who was tyrant of Lacedaemon after Machanidas) had surprised
Messene at a time when Philopoemen was out of command. He tried to
persuade Lysippus, then general of the Achaeans, to succour Messene:
but not prevailing with him, because, he said, the enemy being now
within it, the place was irrecoverably lost, he resolved to go
himself, without order or commission, followed merely by his own
immediate fellow-citizens, who went with him as their general by
commission from nature, which had made him fittest to command.
Nabis, hearing of his coming, thought it not convenient to stay; but
stealing out of the furthest gate with his men, marched away with
all the speed he could, thinking himself a happy man if he could get
off with safety. And he did escape but Messene was rescued.
  All hitherto makes for the praise and honour of Philopoemen. But
when at the request of the Gortynians he went away into Crete to
command for them, at a time when his own country was distressed by
Nabis, he exposed himself to the charge of either cowardice, or
unseasonable ambition of honour amongst foreigners. For the
Megalopolitans were then so pressed, that, the enemy being master of
the field and encamping almost at their gates, they were forced to
keep themselves within their walls, and sow their very streets. And in
the meantime, across the seas, waging war and commanding in chief in a
foreign nation, furnished his ill-wishers with matter enough for their
reproaches. Some said he took the offer of the Gortynians, because the
Achaeans chose other generals, and left him but a private man. For
he could not endure to sit still, but looking upon war and command
in it as his great business, always coveted to be employed. And this
agrees with what he once aptly said of King Ptolemy. Somebody was
praising him for keeping his army and himself in an admirable state of
discipline and exercise: "And what praise," replied Philopoemen,
"for a king of his years, to be always preparing, and never
performing?" However, the Megalopolitans, thinking themselves
betrayed, took it so ill that they were about to banish him. But the
Achaeans put an end to that design by sending their general,
Aristaeus, to Megalopolis, who, though he were at difference with
Philopoemen about affairs of the commonwealth, yet would not suffer
him to be banished. Philopoemen finding himself upon this account
out of favour with his citizens, induced divers of the little
neighbouring places to renounce obedience to them, suggesting to
them to urge that from the beginning they were not subject to their
taxes or laws, or any way under their command. In these pretences he
openly took their part, and fomented seditious movements amongst the
Achaeans in general against Megalopolis. But these things happened a
while after.
  While he stayed in Crete, in the service of the Gortynians, he
made war not like a Peloponnesian and Arcanian, fairly in the open
field, but fought with them at their own weapon, and turning their
stratagems and tricks against themselves, showed them they played
craft against skill, and were but children to an experienced
soldier. Having acted here with great bravery, and great reputation to
himself, he returned into Peloponnesus, where he found Philip beaten
by Titus Quintius, and Nabis at war both with the Romans and Achaeans.
He was at once chosen general against Nabis but venturing to fight
by sea, met, like Epaminondas, with a result very contrary to the
general expectation and his own former reputation. Epaminondas,
however, according to some statements, was backward by design,
unwilling to give his countrymen an appetite for the advantages of the
sea, lest from good soldiers they should by little and little turn, as
Plato says, to ill mariners. And therefore he returned from Asia and
the Islands without doing anything, on purpose. Whereas Philopoemen,
thinking his skill in land-service would equally avail at sea, learned
how great a part of valour experience is, and how much it imparts in
the management of things to be accustomed to them. For he was not only
put to the worst in the fight for want of skill, but having rigged
up an old ship, which had been a famous vessel forty years before, and
shipped his citizens in her, she foundering, he was in danger of
losing them all. But finding the enemy, as if he had been driving
out of the sea, had, in contempt of him besieged Gythium, he presently
set sail again, and taking them unexpectedly, dispersed and careless
after their victory, landed in the night, burnt their camp, and killed
a great number.
  A few days after, as he was marching through a rough country,
Nabis came suddenly upon him. The Achaeans were dismayed, and in
such difficult ground where the enemy had secured the advantage,
despaired to get off with safety. Philopoemen made a little halt, and,
viewing the ground, soon made it appear that the one important thing
in war is skill in drawing up an army. For by advancing only a few
paces, and, without any confusion or trouble, altering his order
according to the nature of the place, he immediately relieved
himself from every difficulty, and then charging, put the enemy to
flight. But when he saw they fled, not towards the city, but dispersed
every man a different way all over the field, which for wood and
hills, brooks and hollows, was not passable by horse, he sounded a
retreat, and encamped by broad daylight. Then foreseeing the enemy
would endeavour to steal scatteringly into the city in the dark, he
posted strong parties of the Achaeans all along the watercourses and
sloping ground near the walls. Many of Nabis's men fell into their
hands. For returning not in a body, but as the chance of flight had
disposed of every one, they were caught like birds ere they could
enter into the town.
  These actions obtained him distinguished marks of affection and
honour in all the theatres of Greece, but not without the secret
ill-will of Titus Flamininus, who was naturally eager for glory, and
thought it but reasonable a consul of Rome should be otherwise
esteemed by the Achaeans than a common Arcadian; especially as there
was no comparison between what he and what Philopoemen had done for
them, he having by one proclamation restored all Greece, as much as
had been subject to Philip and the Macedonians, to liberty. After
this, Titus made peace with Nabis, and Nabis was circumvented and
slain by the Aetolians. Things being then in confusion at Sparta,
Philopoemen laid hold of the occasion, and coming upon them with an
army, prevailed with some by persuasion, with others by fear, till
he brought the whole city over to the Achaeans. As it was no small
matter for Sparta to become a member of Achaea, this action gained him
infinite praise from the Achaeans, for having strengthened their
confederacy by the addition of so great and powerful a city, and not a
little good-will from the nobility of Sparta itself, who hoped they
had now procured an ally who would defend their freedom.
Accordingly, having raised a sum of one hundred and twenty silver
talents by the sale of the house and goods of Nabis, they decreed
him the money, and sent a deputation in the name of the city to
present it. But here the honesty of Philopoemen showed itself
clearly to be a real, uncounterfeited virtue. For, first of all, there
was not a man among them who would undertake to make him this offer of
a present, but every one excusing himself, and shifting it off upon
his fellow, they laid the office at last on Timolaus, with whom he had
lodged at Sparta. Then Timolaus came to Megalopolis, and was
entertained by Philopoemen; but struck into admiration with the
dignity of his life and manners, and the simplicity of his habits,
judging him to be utterly inaccessible to any such considerations,
he said nothing, but pretending other business, returned without a
word mentioned of the present. He was sent again, and did just as
formerly. But the third time with much ado, and faltering in his
words, he acquainted Philopoemen with the good-will of the city of
Sparta to him. Philopoemen listened obligingly and gladly; and then
went himself to Sparta, where he advised them, not to bribe good men
and their friends, of whose virtue they might be sure without charge
to themselves; but to buy off and silence ill citizens, who disquieted
the city with their seditious speeches in the public assemblies; for
it was better to bar liberty of speech in enemies than friends. Thus
it appeared how much Philopoemen was above bribery.
  Diophanes being afterwards general of the Achaeans, and hearing
the Lacedaemonians were bent on new commotions, resolved to chastise
them; they, on the other side, being set upon war, were embroiling all
Peloponnesus. Philopoemen on this occasion did all he could to keep
Diophanes quiet and to make him sensible that as the times went, while
Antiochus and the Romans were disputing their pretensions with vast
armies in the heart of Greece, it concerned a man in his position to
keep a watchful eye over them, and dissembling, and putting up with
any less important grievances, to preserve all quiet at home.
Diophanes would not be ruled, but joined with Titus, and both together
falling into Daconia, marched directly to Sparta. Philopoemen, upon
this, took, in his indignation, a step which certainly was not lawful,
nor in the strictest sense just, but boldly and loftily conceived.
Entering into the town himself, he, a private man as he was, refused
admission to both the consul of Rome and the general of the
Achaeans, quieted the disorders in the city, and reunited it on the
same terms as before to the Achaean confederacy.
  Yet afterwards, when he was general himself, upon some new
misdemeanour of the Lacedaemonians, he brought back those who had been
banished, put, as Polybius writes, eighty, according to Aristocrates
three hundred and fifty, Spartans to death, razed the walls, took away
a good part of their territory and transferred it to the
Megalopolitans, forced out of the country and carried into Achaea
all who had been made citizens of Sparta by tyrants, except three
thousand who would not submit to banishment. These he sold for slaves,
and with the money, as if to exult over them, built a colonnade at
Megalopolis. Lastly, unworthily trampling upon the Lacedaemonians in
their calamities, and gratifying his hostility by a most oppressive
and arbitrary action, he abolished the laws of Lycurgus, and forced
them to educate their children and live after the manner of the
Achaeans; as though, while they kept to the discipline of Lycurgus,
there was no humbling their haughty spirits. In their present distress
and adversity they allowed Philopoemen thus to cut the sinews of their
commonwealth asunder, and behave themselves humbly and submissively.
But afterwards, in no long time, obtaining the support of the
Romans, they abandoned their new Achaean citizenship; and as much as
in so miserable and ruined a condition they could, re-established
their ancient discipline.
  When the war betwixt Antiochus and the Romans broke out in Greece,
Philopoemen was a private man. He repined grievously when he saw
Antiochus lay idle at Chalcis, spending his time in unreasonable
courtship and weddings, while his men lay dispersed in several
towns, without order, or commanders, and minding nothing but their
pleasures. He complained much that he was not himself in office, and
said he envied the Romans their victory; and that if he had had the
fortune to be then in command, he would have surprised and killed
the whole army in the taverns.
  When Antiochus was overcome, the Romans pressed harder upon
Greece, and encompassed the Achaeans with their power; the popular
leaders in the several cities yielded before them; and their power
speedily, under the divine guidance, advanced to the consummation
due to it in the revolutions of fortune. Philopoemen, in this
conjecture, carried himself like a good pilot in a high sea, sometimes
shifting sail, and sometimes yielding, but still steering steady;
and omitting no opportunity nor effort to keep all who were
considerable, whether for eloquence or riches, fast to the defence
of their common liberty.
  Aristaenus, a Megalopolitan of great credit among the Achaeans,
but always a favourer of the Romans, saying one day in the senate that
the Romans should not be opposed, or displeased in any way,
Philopoemen heard him with an impatient silence; but at last, not able
to hold longer, said angrily to him, "And why be in such haste,
wretched man, to behold the end of Greece?" Manius, the Roman
consul, after the defeat of Antiochus, requested the Achaeans to
restore the banished Lacedaemonians to their country, which motion was
seconded and supported by all the interest of Titus. But Philopoemen
crossed it, not from ill-will to the men, but that they might be
beholden to him and the Achaeans, not to Titus and the Romans. For
when he came to be general himself, he restored them. So impatient was
his spirit of any subjection and so prone his nature to contest
everything with men in power.
  Being now three score and ten, and the eighth time general, he was
in hope to pass in quiet, not only the year of his magistracy, but his
remaining life. For as our diseases decline, as it is supposed with
our declining bodily strength, so the quarrelling humour of the Greeks
abated much with their failing political greatness. But fortune or
some divine retributive power threw him down in the close of his life,
like a successful runner who stumbles at the goal. It is reported,
that being in company where one was praised for a great commander,
he replied, there was no great account to be made of a man who had
suffered himself to be taken alive by his enemies.
  A few days after, news came that Dinocrates the Messenian, a
particular enemy to Philopoemen, and for his wickedness and villainies
generally hated, had induced Messene to revolt from the Achaeans,
and was about to seize upon a little place called Colonis. Philopoemen
lay then sick of a fever at Argos. Upon the news he hasted away, and
reached Megalopolis, which was distant above four hundred furlongs, in
a day. From thence he immediately led out the horse, the noblest of
the city, young men in the vigour of their age, and eager to proffer
their service, both from attachment to Philopoemen and zeal for the
cause. As they marched towards Messene, they met with Dinocrates, near
the hill of Evander, charged and routed him. But five hundred fresh
men, who, being left for a guard to the country, came in late,
happening to appear, the flying enemy rallied again about the hills.
Philopoemen, fearing to be enclosed, and solicitous for his men,
retreated over ground extremely disadvantageous, bringing up the
rear himself. As he often faced, and made charges upon the enemy, he
drew them upon himself; though they merely made movements at a
distance, and shouted about him, nobody daring to approach him. In his
care to save every single man, he left his main body so often, that at
last he found himself alone among the thickest of his enemies. Yet
even then none durst come up to him, but being pelted at a distance,
and driven to stony steep places, he had great difficulty, with much
spurring, to guide his horse aright. His age was no hindrance to
him, for with perpetual exercise it was both strong and active; but
being weakened with sickness, and tired with his long journey, his
horse stumbling, he fell encumbered with his arms, and faint, upon a
hard and rugged piece of ground. His head received such a shock with
the fall that he lay awhile speechless, so that the enemy, thinking
him dead, began to turn and strip him. But when they saw him lift up
his head and open his eyes, they threw themselves all together upon
him, bound his hands behind him, and carried him off, every kind of
insult and contumely being lavished on him who truly had never so much
as dreamed of being led in triumph by Dinocrates.
  The Messenians, wonderfully elated with the news, thronged in swarms
to the city gates. But when they saw Philopoemen in a posture so
unsuitable to the glory of his great actions and famous victories,
most of them, struck with grief and cursing the deceitful vanity of
human fortune, even shed tears of compassion at the spectacle. Such
tears by little and little turned to kind words, and it was almost
in everybody's mouth that they ought to remember what he had done
for them, and how he had preserved the common liberty, by driving away
Nabis. Some few, to make their court to Dinocrates, were for torturing
and then putting him to death as a dangerous and irreconcilable enemy;
all the more formidable to Dinocrates, who had taken him a prisoner,
should he after this misfortune regain his liberty. They put him at
last into a dungeon underground, which they called the treasury, a
place into which there came no air nor light from abroad; and which,
having no doors, was closed with a great stone. This they rolled
into the entrance and fixed, and placing a guard about it, left him.
In the meantime Philopoemen's soldiers, recovering themselves after
their flight, and fearing he was dead when he appeared nowhere, made a
stand, calling him with loud cries, and reproaching one another with
their unworthy and shameful escape; having betrayed their general,
who, to preserve their lives, had lost his own. Then returning after
much inquiry and search, hearing at last that he was taken they sent
away messengers round about with the news. The Achaeans resented the
misfortune deeply, and decreed to send and demand him; and in the
meantime drew their army together for his rescue.
  While these things passed in Achaea, Dinocrates, fearing that any
delay would save Philopoemen, and resolving to be beforehand with the
Achaeans, as soon as night had dispersed the multitude, sent in the
executioner with poison, with orders not to stir from him till he had
taken it. Philopoemen had then laid down, wrapt up in his cloak, not
sleeping, but oppressed with grief and trouble; but seeing light, and
a man with poison by him, struggled to sit up; and, taking the cup,
asked the man if he heard anything of the horsemen, particularly
Lycortas? The fellow answering, that most part had got off safe, he
nodded, and looking cheerfully upon him, "It is well," he said, "that
we have not been every way unfortunate;" and without a word more,
drank it off, and laid him down again. His weakness offering but
little resistance to the poison, it despatched him presently.
  The news of his death filled all Achaea with grief and
lamentation. The youth, with some of the chief of the several
cities, met at Megalopolis with a resolution to take revenge without
delay. They chose Lycortas general, and falling upon the Messenians,
put all to fire and sword, till they all with one consent made their
submission. Dinocrates, with as many as had voted for Philopoemen's
death, anticipated their vengeance and killed themselves. Those who
would have had him tortured, Lycortas put in chains and reserved for
severer punishment. They burnt his body, and put the ashes into an
urn, and then marched homeward, not as in an ordinary march, but
with a kind of solemn pomp, half triumph, half funeral, crowns of
victory on their heads, and tears in their eyes, and their captive
enemies in fetters by them. Polybius, the general's son, carried the
urn, so covered with garlands and ribbons as scarcely to be visible;
and the noblest of the Achaeans accompanied him. The soldiers followed
fully armed and mounted, with looks neither altogether sad as in
mourning, nor lofty as in victory. The people from all towns and
villages in their way flocked out to meet him, as at his return from
conquest, and, saluting the urn, fell in with the company and followed
on to Megalopolis; where, when the old men, the women and children
were mingled with the rest, the whole city was filled with sighs,
complaints and cries, the loss of Philopoemen seeming to them the
loss of their own greatness, and of their rank among the Achaeans.
Thus he was honourably buried according to his worth, and the
prisoners were stoned about his tomb.
  Many statues were set up, and many honours decreed to him by the
several cities. One of the Romans in the time of Greece's
affliction, after the destruction of Corinth, publicly accusing
Philopoemen, as if he had been still alive, of having been the enemy
of Rome, proposed that these memorials should be all removed. A
discussion ensued, speeches were made, and Polybius answered the
sycophant at large. And neither Mummius nor the lieutenants would
suffer the honourable monuments of so great a man to be defaced,
though he had often crossed both Titus and Manius. They justly
distinguished, and as became honest men, betwixt usefulness and
virtue- what is good in itself, and what is profitable to particular
parties- judging thanks and reward due to him who does a benefit
from him who receives it, and honour never to be denied by the good to
the good. And so much concerning Philopoemen.
                               THE END