Olympias

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by Elizabeth Carney


  Appendix

  Olympias and the sources

  My purpose in this section is to provide a short discussion of the nature of the evidence about Olympias offered by each of the major extant sources.1

  This is not intended to be an exercise in source criticism, although reference will occasionally be made to conventional views about the sources of authors under discussion. Instead, I want to characterize and describe the representation of Olympias each major ancient source offers.2 I will not solely be concerned with whether a given writer presents a hostile or comparatively positive picture of Olympias (often, of course, the same writer does both), but will also note what the source tells us about Olympias and what it omits.

  My focus will be on literary sources, but I will also look at what the orators contemporary to Olympias tell us, as well as what inscriptions and images offer.

  Diodorus Siculus wrote a universal history of the ancient Mediterranean world some time in the second half of the first century BCE.3 Scholars believe that Diodorus generally employed one major source for his narratives of a given period of time, but that he supplemented this major source with material taken from others and sometimes added his own comments, often of a moralizing sort.4 As his major source for Alexander’s reign, common opinion generally favors Cleitarchus, an Alexandrian writer who may have written soon after Alexander’s death and who probably stressed the colorful aspects of the conqueror’s career. Hieronymus of Cardia, once an associate of Olympias’ ally Eumenes and later an adherent of Antigonus and his family, is Diodorus’ probable main source for events after Alexander’s death (books 18–20 in Diodorus). Scholarly opinion of Hieronymus is high, though there is recognition of his bias in favor of Eumenes and Antigonus. He may well have had access to Eumenes’ correspondence.5 The most striking aspect of Diodorus’ treatment of Olympias6 is his uneven coverage: he barely mentions her during the reign of Alexander but provides considerable detail about her activities in the period after her son’s death. There is one obvious explanation for this discrepancy in coverage. Diodorus, with his broad scope and necessarily brief accounts of specific events, tends to focus on public events.

  Even allowing for omissions of his and other sources (whose existence we know about from inscriptions and the orators), Olympias probably was much

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  less active in public events during Alexander’s reign than she was later. But her greater public role in the later period is probably not the only reason why Diodorus has more to say about her after her son’s death. The many details Diodorus furnishes about Olympias’ actions and policies (often relating to correspondence) in the era of the Successors strongly suggest that Hieronymus’

  association with Eumenes gave him access to insider information (and correspondence) dealing with Olympias.

  Other than innocuous references Diodorus makes to Olympias in order to identify her more obscure kinfolk (16.72.1, 91.4), only four passages mention Olympias prior to Alexander’s death. Diodorus alone reports that the king’s mother (presumably Olympias, as I have argued; see Chapter 3) warned Alexander by letter against Lyncestian Alexander (17.32.1) and only he says that Olympias and Antipater both demanded that the Athenians give up Harpalus to them (17.108.7). In his account of the death of Hephaestion, Diodorus mentions in passing the story that Olympias and Hephaestion quarreled by letter (17.114.3). He also refers to the quarrel between Olympias and Antipater and insists that, as relations between Alexander and Antipater cooled, Alexander’s piety toward his mother led to his desire to please her in all matters, and so Antipater, for this and other reasons, plotted successfully to kill Alexander. Diodorus claims many other historians concealed the plot because of the subsequent power of Antipater and Cassander. The latter remained hostile to Alexander even after his death, murdered Olympias, and refused her body burial (17.118.1–3).7 Diodorus’ account of Olympias’

  actions during her son’s reign implies that she was aggressive, but his narrative is much more overtly hostile to Antipater and his clan.

  Although Diodorus’ narrative of the military and political events after Alexander’s death pays much more attention to Olympias, in most of this narrative, his treatment of Olympias consists of matter-of-fact reference to her actions as part of her alliance with Polyperchon. Diodorus’ report of the letter she sent to Eumenes, apparently in reference to Polyperchon’s offer to return her to Macedonia and put her in charge of her grandson, makes Olympias look both cautious and politically acute: she sees through the subterfuges of the various “guardians” (18.58.3). As we have seen (Chapter 4), the implication of his narrative is that Olympias’ cause was lost because of Polyperchon’s series of military failures, beginning with the siege of Megalopolis (18.74.1), as well as because of Aeacides’ inability to return to Olympias’ aid. There are two exceptions to Diodorus’ generally neutral account of the decline of Olympias’ fortunes: his version of her violent actions after her return to Macedonia and his account of her final days.

  Diodorus (19.11.1–11) not only provides a detailed account of her murders of Philip Arrhidaeus and Adea Eurydice that is highly sympathetic to them,8

  but he also repeatedly and explicitly condemns Olympias’ actions. According to the narrator, she did not take advantage of her good luck in a humane way and condemned Adea Eurydice to a punishment he considered more severe than her husband’s (wrongly, I believe; see Chapter 4). He judges that

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  Olympias’ lack of compassion meant that her own death was merited and comments that by actions contrary to law (or custom) she satisfied her anger but made many Macedonians hate her savagery and recall Antipater’s deathbed warning not to let a woman be first in the kingdom. He concludes with the statement that this situation made it clear that a change would come in Macedonia. This section differs from most of Diodorus’ previous account of Olympias’ actions in a number of respects: it is far more detailed, sometimes unbelievably so; it is replete with moralizing; and it seems to imply that Olympias lost to Cassander because of her treatment of Adea Eurydice and Philip Arrhidaeus, Nicanor, Cassander’s supporters, and the tomb of Iolaus, an implication at odds with the rest of his narrative. Diodorus very likely supplemented his narrative here because he saw an opportunity for moralizing,9 creating something of a conflict with the rest of his account by doing so. Hieronymus may not have been the source for this section of narrative. May I suggest this not only because it differs stylistically from the main body of the account, which presumably was drawn from Hieronymus, but because, as a close associate of Eumenes and later Antigonus, Hieronymus would likely have been sympathetic to Olympias and hostile to Cassander?10

  Diodorus’ description of the siege of Pydna and the events leading to Olympias’ death (19.49.1–51.4) is as detailed as his version of Olympias’

  atrocities (in contrast to the rest of his narrative), yet generally paints a somewhat sympathetic picture of Olympias. The details Diodorus provides about the siege are more believable than those that appear in his account of the earlier incident, suggesting that his source for the siege had spoken to eyewitnesses. Diodorus notes that Olympias had no one to speak for her at her

  “trial,” recounts the story that Cassander attempted to trick her into an escape bid that he could use to murder her, indicates that only the kin of those she had slain were willing to kill her, and comments positively on her bravery in the face of death. Certainly there is no reassertion of the idea that her death was deserved. Diodorus’ narrative seems to characterize her death and that of Aristonous as consequences of vendettas rather than justice. His treatment of Cassander is not sympathetic (19.51.1, 2, 4, 52.4–5).

  Diodorus is the most important source for Olympias’ actions after Alexander’s death and, apart from his lengthy condemnation of her actions after her victory, he is not a particularly hostile one. His focus on action and public events and his brevity tend to prevent him from displaying marked bias during much of his narrative.
While his text contains hints that, like most Greek males, he found some of Olympias’ actions inappropriate for a woman, it is only in his inclusion of Antipater’s supposed deathbed warning that he directly indicates that he understands her to have acted in a way that was not only bad, but womanish. On the other hand, he admires the brave death of Olympias herself (and of Adea Eurydice). His dramatic and overtly hostile coverage of Olympias’ brutal actions after her victory obscures the fact that his account is otherwise comparatively objective in its treatment

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  of her, provides considerable helpful information, and displays only modest sex and gender prejudice, at least in comparison to other Greek sources.11

  About 200 CE Justin (Marcus Junianus Justinus) wrote an epitome (a shortened version) of a world history composed by Pompeius Trogus in Latin during the reign of Augustus (31 BCE–14 CE). Justin’s narrative contains many errors and is sometimes so compressed that it makes little sense, but it is the only extant narrative for some periods of Hellenistic history and contains material not found elsewhere that one cannot immediately discard.

  Little consensus exists about the sources of Pompeius Trogus, though Cleitarchus was probably the ultimate source of much of his material dealing with the reign of Alexander. Yardley has argued convincingly, based on his study of the language in the text, that Justin, not Pompeius Trogus, dominates the diction and expressions of the book.12 The Romance, or perhaps the tradition building toward the creation of the Romance, may also have shaped his portrait of Olympias.13

  Like Diodorus, Justin recounts events from Olympias’ life from the time of her marriage to Philip until her death. He pays even less attention than Diodorus to her actions during her son’s reign (though, like Diodorus he claims that Olympias’ charges about Antipater were the partial reason for Antipater’s decision to assassinate Alexander). Justin’s representation of Olympias is significantly more hostile than that of Diodorus (though not exclusively so). Interestingly, though, he displays almost no interest in the incident which generated Diodorus’ strongest condemnation—Olympias’ violent acts after her victory—and instead focuses his hostility on Olympias’ supposed involvement in Philip’s death. Although Justin mentions Olympias’ murder of Cleopatra and her baby (9.7.12) and terms it revenge, this crime does not interest him either.

  Justin insists that Philip repudiated Olympias for adultery with the divine serpent (9.5.9, 11.3–6, 12.16.2). This supposed repudiation is already Olympias’ motivation for involvement in Philip’s assassination (9.5.9, 7.2), though Justin says that both Olympias and her son encouraged and supported the assassin (9.7.1, 8). Only Justin reports that Olympias tried to get her brother to attack Philip, a plan Philip short-circuited by arranging the marriage between her daughter and her brother (9.7.7). It is in the details of Olympias’ involvement in the assassination plot that Justin demonstrates antagonism so considerable as to make his account implausible: she has horses ready for the assassin’s getaway; she puts a wreath on the crucified head of the assassin (Justin says only she could have dared to do so); she has Pausanias cremated over Philip’s tomb and provides a tomb for him; and she dedicates the murder weapon under her childhood name. Justin comments that she acted as though she were afraid that her involvement in the crime would not be known (9.7.1–14). He seems to take the divine snake seriously as Alexander’s parent and even includes a scenario similar to that in the Romance: Olympias confesses her adultery to Philip and he announces that Alexander is not his son.

  Appendix 129

  Justin’s version of Olympias’ life after her son’s death fluctuates between considerable criticism and high praise, but, on the whole, he admires her for living up to her high birth and male kin by managing a heroic death. He baldly states that she had Adea Eurydice and Philip Arrhidaeus killed, but offers no details (14.5.10). He follows this information with the observation that she did not live long herself, but his condemnation apparently focuses not on her elimination of the royal pair but on her murder of other members of the Macedonian elite: “Acting more like a woman than a ruler, she caused indiscriminate slaughter of the nobility and transformed favor into hatred” (14.6.1). In Diodorus’ account, Olympias’ slaughter is clearly political, an action, however brutal, against an opposing faction she blamed for her son’s death. In Justin’s, she is simply randomly savage, for no reason, and this savagery, not even understood as revenge, Justin sees as somehow feminine.

  Justin’s account of Olympias’ death is as over-the-top in a positive way as is his description of her involvement in Philip’s murder in a negative way.

  According to Justin, Cassander has to bribe the kin of those she killed to accuse her. Justin criticizes those who condemned her as ungrateful. Rather than avoiding death, Olympias goes out to meet her would-be assassins, dressed in royal attire and accompanied by maids, and so overawes them that they do not murder her. The soldiers Cassander then dispatches do the task, but Olympias faces them, does not act like a woman but like a brave man, upholding the glory of her ancient line. Justin says that you could see Alexander in his mother’s death (14.6.6–13). His narrative of Olympias’ dramatic death scene recalls his earlier (12.16.3) discussion of her lineage: her fame came from her clan, a family going back to the distant past, and from the fact that her father, brother, husband, and all her ancestors had ruled, although no one’s name was more famous than that of her son. Justin’s Olympias is most dangerous when she acts like a woman, most admirable when she acts like a man, and most remarkable for the way in which she encapsulates the distinction of the males of her family. His portrayal of her is inconsistent and makes no sense of her life or aims. He uses her career as an excuse for narrating dramatic scenes and extreme behavior. This is in keeping with what Justin states as his general guide for inclusion of material in his narrative: pleasure or material for moral examples ( Praef. 4).

  Quintus Curtius Rufus wrote a lengthy Latin narrative of Alexander’s reign at a date much debated,14 but more likely than not in the mid-first century CE. Substantial portions of his work are missing, including the first two books. Like Diodorus and Justin, he may well have used Cleitarchus as a source, but he also employed others, including Alexander’s contemporaries Ptolemy and Aristobulus. Scholars once had little respect for Curtius’

  narrative, but many now value his political analysis, despite the Roman coloring it often displays, although they remain suspicious of his highly rhetorical approach and recognize that he sometimes invents material.15

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  Whereas the first two authors we have discussed produced historical narratives that covered long periods of time, Curtius’ work dealt only with Alexander’s reign. We have already noted that both Diodorus and Justin say little about Olympias’ actions during that reign, so perhaps it does not surprise that Curtius (and Arrian, who covers the same period) devoted comparatively little attention to her. Other than three passing references that picture an affectionate relationship between mother and son,16 Curtius tells us only two things about Olympias; for both he is our sole source among ancient historians. He reports that Alexander wanted to have his mother deified after her death. Alexander mentions the idea after his grave wound in Malli city, describing it as the greatest reward for his efforts and hoping that, if he is not able to do it, others will (9.6.26–7). Curtius brings it up again when, at the end of his work, he sums up Alexander’s admirable qualities, among which he includes his piety to his parents, notably his vengeance for Philip’s murder and his decision to “consecrate” Olympias (10.5.30).

  The other “nugget” of information about Olympias that Curtius furnishes is much more political, though that is not how Curtius sees it. According to him, Amyntas, son of Andromenes, claimed that when Alexander sent him back to Macedonia on a recruiting trip, he warned him that Olympias was hiding eligible young men and that he should ignore anyone’s concern other than the king’s. His actions led Olympias to make charges against him (7.1.37–9; s
ee discussion in Chapter 3). Olympias’ motivation, according to Amyntas, was not so much political as emotional. He mentions her concern for her son, her anxiety of mind, her false imaginings, wishes that she were more prudent (7.1.36) and insists that she has accused them because they put Alexander’s interests before the gratitude of a woman (7.1.40). He concludes that since Alexander is the source of his mother’s anger, he is the one to soothe it (7.1.40). The entire episode is recounted in Amyntas’ speech and, as transcribed, stresses gender roles to a degree that obscures what was going on. Why Olympias’ motherly anxiety would have anything to do with her attempt to protect her favorites is never explained. In Curtius, Olympias is not so much sinister as a typical woman: irrational, emotional, and easily irritated, but still, somehow, a concerned mother beloved by her doting son.

  Scholars typically refer to the three authors we have so far discussed in a collective way, as the “Vulgate” tradition, often ascribing their similarities to a common general dependence on Cleitarchus. Nonetheless, we have discovered marked differences in their treatment of the figure of Olympias.

  Until comparatively recently, scholars automatically preferred the testimony of either of the two non-Vulgate Alexander authors to that of the Vulgate.

  This tendency has dissipated in the latest scholarly generation to a considerable degree, as has the inclination to exaggerate the similarities in the Vulgate sources and ignore similarities between Vulgate and non-Vulgate sources. As our examination of the treatment of Olympias in the three

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  Vulgate writers suggests, even if all three made considerable use of the same sources, each writer made choices that led to significant differences in point of view and the amount of information conveyed.

  Arrian (Lucius Flavius Arrianus) was born in the first century CE and lived until about 160. A Greek from Bithynia, a student of the Stoic philosopher Epictetus, he rose to the rank of consul, held the governorship of Cappadocia, and commanded Roman troops against the Alan invasion. Arrian wrote a number of works, some military in nature, but his most famous is the Anabasis of Alexander. His work is eulogistic, scanting or omitting much that might make Alexander seem unpleasant, but remains valuable because, as he tells us, he depends primarily on two authors who accompanied Alexander on the expedition, Aristobulus (some sort of engineer) and Ptolemy (Alexander’s bodyguard, close personal associate, and later king of Egypt).

 

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