8. A GOD AND HIS GODDESS
By winter the Army of Liberation was ready for another triumphal entry into Athens, three years after the first. This time there would be nothing tentative about it; they were not bringing Liberty to Hellas, they had brought it. From the Saviour God down to the meanest camp-follower they were sure of their welcome; and the citizens would exert themselves to make that welcome memorable.
The campaign had been completely successful. Alarmed at the threat to his rear, Cassander withdrew from Attica. That withdrawal set in motion a landslide; all Boeota and Euboea rallied to the cause of democracy. Cassander dared not halt until he reached the strong position of Thermopylae; even there Demetrius attacked him, and got the better of a scrambling, inconclusive fight. Hellas north of the Isthmus was liberated; and though Polyperchon again overran the Peloponnese he was isolated from his allies and not strong enough to maintain himself against an attack launched from Attica. By next summer the whole mainland would be free; Demetrius felt he had atoned for the year wasted before Rhodes.
Lamia was still his sole concubine and official mistress. He was more in love with her than ever; she was wise and witty as well as beautiful, an able helpmate when he entertained Hellene politicians. Phila remained in Asia, though her letters were friendly. Eurydice, his second Queen, was out of sight and quite out of mind; she had retired some time ago to her family estates to enjoy the leisure of grass-widowhood. He did not wish to see her, and in fact they never met again. Lamia was so openly his consort, and her manners were so well bred, that strangers sometimes supposed her to be his Queen.
The Athenians, of course, knew better. But the Athenians did not despise a hetaira; any citizen would receive her. The relations of Eurydice were so nobly born that they could not escape the taint of oligarchy; really it was more comfortable all round that they should avoid the Saviour God of Democracy. In the formal procession of entry there would be an honourable place for Lamia. It was to discuss this formal entry that Stratocles had come down to Piraeus. At his suggestion Lamia was brought into the discussion.
‘The Saviour God will be received with the customary divine honours,’ Stratocles was saying, ‘and the Assembly has assigned the Parthenon to be his lodging,’
‘I suppose that will be all right,’ said Lamia. ‘It sounds rather blasphemous. On the other hand, if Demetrius is really a god he must be related in some way to Athene,’
‘You mustn’t say “if I am a god” in that sceptical tone,’ answered Demetrius. ‘I am a god by solemn decree of the sovereign people of Athens, and you shouldn’t contradict them in their own Piraeus. As a matter of fact Athene is my elder sister; though we don’t talk about it much because she is sensitive about her age. She will be delighted to lend her temple as a lodging for her younger brother.’
‘Then that’s settled,’ said Stratocles with a chuckle. This young man joked about his divinity as though he recognised how absurd it was; but he stood firm on his divine rights all the same. A sensible attitude, which any politician could understand.
‘There’s just one other point,’ he went on. ‘As yet the Saviour Gods of Athens have no identifying attributes. The god Demetrius of course appears armed, but then so do Ares and many of the deified heroes. I wish we could think of something more striking than armour for you to wear. I’m sure your armour of parade is very fine, but in the fourth year of this war the Athenians won’t see it as specially striking. And if your lady rides with you in the procession will she wear armour also?’
‘Certainly not,’ Lamia declared. ‘I haven’t the figure for it; and Athene might take it as a personal insult if I were to ride armed through her city,’
‘Yes, we mustn’t ignore Athene’s feelings,’ Demetrius spoke as though discussing an absent acquaintance. ‘I should explain that she is not my full sister. My father is not her father. For one thing, though he’s getting on, he’s not old enough. Shall we say that Athene is my sister by adoption? Perhaps she is a little bit jealous of me. After all, she used to be first in this city, and now I seem to displace her. So Lamia will not appear in the trappings of Athene; though I am sure the aegis would suit you very well, my dear, and the Gorgon’s face on the shield would make a splendid contrast to yours,’
‘Then what shall I wear?’ she asked. ‘I shall appear in this procession, you can be sure of that. I’m not a stuffy Athenian wife, to wrap my head in a bag and slink down side streets while my man peacocks before the crowd. I am a Hellene from the new overseas Empire, where women show themselves in public like men.’
Stratocles kept a straight face. It would be fun to remind this loose woman that she had indeed shown herself in public, when she posed naked to win that famous competition in Alexandria. But a politician must sometimes sacrifice a telling rejoinder in the higher cause of party unity.
Demetrius said very nearly the same thing, though he meant it as a compliment. ‘You look like Aphrodite, my dear, or at least the Alexandrians decided that Aphrodite looks very like you. That’s it. That’s how you shall figure in my procession. For it’s my procession, remember. You haven’t been deified yet. You will wear all your jewels, and I shall get hold of tame doves and a really handsome mirror. With those attributes everyone will recognise you - Aphrodite of Athens, as fair as the Alexandrian Aphrodite and a dashed sight more powerful.’
‘The Saviour God still lacks attributes,’ said Stratocles. ‘Why don’t you, my lord god, appear as Dionysus, who has a great festival about this time of year?’
‘Why not?’ Demetrius agreed. ‘It will be a change from armour. I shall look fine in a leopard skin. After the procession we can have a very good party in the evening - wine, music, Maenads dancing. That’s it. Dionysus and Aphrodite make their home in Athens, under the guise of the Saviour God and his companion. I am looking forward to this,’
That year’s festival of Dionysus was indeed something special. There were two four-wheeled triumphal cars; though they were drawn by the white horses usual on such occasions, not by the leopards of Dionysus. Stratocles, who enjoyed displays so long as he was in charge of it, had tried to get tame leopards; but none can be found in war-ravaged Attica, though they were sometimes used in the great temples of Asia. In any case, Lamia was against leopards as too dangerous.
First came the chariot of Aphrodite, wreathed in flowers and surrounded by little naked boys. In it sat Lamia enthroned, wearing a jewelled girdle and a great many chains of gold on her neck, arms and ankles; otherwise her luxuriant figure was uncovered. Her face was gilded and, powdered, to hide the wrinkles of middle age. Standing in the chariot behind her were three of the most famous hetairae of Athens, also naked to impersonate the Graces. They sprinkled perfume on the crowd, while the boys released doves to flutter above the procession.
Behind chanting priests came the chariot of Demetrius-Dionysus. Maenads danced before it with the traditional bared breasts, though they were respectable maidens from the best families of Athens. The car was decorated with curling vines and bunches of ripe grapes. Behind it bearded satyrs led he-goats. On the throne sat the Saviour God, dressed in a brief leopard skin. At the age of thirty-two he still had the limbs of a god, and a wreath of vine leaves tactfully shaded the marks of good living on his face. Behind him a fat elderly Silenus, a famous comic actor, held a great wine-skin, from which he filled any cups held out to him by the spectators.
Luckily for all the naked attendants, the day was warm.
The ritual of the Dionysia lasted a long time. Throughout the sacrifices, the hymns, the dances and the speeches Demetrius held himself stiff and dignified as any god.
In the evening a solemn and heavy banquet, for men only, was held in the town hall; and then at last the Saviour God was conducted to his lodging. After ail his eating and drinking Demetrius found the climb up the Acropolis rather trying; but the Parthenon was a palace worthy of his divinity. It was swept by draughts and lacking in privacy, but that is true of palaces in general. A bronzed and ivory
bed had been prepared for him at the foot of the great image of Athene, and numerous braziers tempered the chill of the lofty hall. He gazed round with satisfaction, and then turned to ask Stratocles: ‘Where’s Lamia? I usually take her to bed with me.’
The demagogue kept his eyes fixed on his own feet. ‘I supposed you did, my lord god, but I thought that tonight might be an exception. The lady Lamia is lodged in a very fine house down by the market-place. The city has placed it at her disposal for so long as she cares to make use of it. We, that is the government of the city, thought you might prefer to visit her there. No gate will be barred to you, even when the Acropolis is locked up for the night. The sentries have been ordered not to see you. As I say, we thought that might be a more convenient arrangement. After all, this is the Parthenon, the holiest shrine of the Maiden. She is said to be strict in her behaviour. If it were your Queen, now - but the lady Lamia - ‘ He waved his hands vaguely.
‘I see,’ snapped Demetrius. ‘Now come into this corner, where the servants can’t hear us, and I’ll tell you something for your own good.’
‘It’s amusing,’ he went on, ‘to see that a man like you has religious scruples. A man like you! You pretend to be the single-minded servant of your city when in fact you hate a great many of your fellow-citizens, all those who are beautiful and good. If an Athenian has any property your first thought is how to take it for yourself. Yet you fear that an insult to the Maiden might bring you bad luck. If Athene had power, and cared for her city, you would have been struck down by a thunderbolt long ago. Now I shall tell you a secret. When first I landed in Hellas, more than three years ago, I also believed in the gods, and in liberty. Then I myself was proclaimed divine, and Zeus did not thunder. Today I wear the attributes of Dionysus, and make my home in the favourite shrine of the Maiden. No god does anything to avenge these insults. In short, there are no gods. Or if they exist they do not concern themselves with a human affairs. I shall insult them and decry them as much as I like. As for my other idea, liberty, it’s not as I had pictured it. I don’t like the type of man who comes to the top in a democracy. But democrats fight for me and oligarchs fights for Cassander, so in public I stick to my old opinions. Now you know the worst. To prove that you have understood it I command you to bring here my concubine Lamia, and be quick about it.’
Stratocles shrugged his shoulders. ‘A politician must endure abuse with patience, and of my own free will I remain a politician. All the same, I wish you would behave with more decorum. Whether the gods exist or no there are Athenians. You can see them and touch them, and if one of them should cut your throat you would die of it. Don’t go out of your way to anger them.’
‘There are more soldiers in my army than there are citizens in Athens,’ said Demetrius. ‘If my conduct shocks the citizens they must stay shocked. They dare not do anything about it. Now fetch Lamia.’
Half an hour later Lamia arrived, in a girlish twitter at the sanctity of her surroundings. ‘So this is the shrine of virginity. A cold bare place, though very fine of its kind. It’s a long time since I was fit to serve the Maiden, longer than I care to recall. If she is angry you must protect me, darling, and I know you will. But now that we are here, against all the laws of god and man, let’s enjoy our greatness. Tomorrow I shall organise a party.’
The leading hetairae of Athens had called on Lamia, especially those of them who were looking for another protector. She knew many of them by reputation, and found them all sympathetic. In the heady air of Attica she dropped her pose as the serious student of the arts and remembered only her beautiful body. She wanted to see more of those professional colleagues.
Every hetaira was trained to understand food and drink, and how to cater for a big dinner. The party given two days later in the shrine of the Parthenon, by the united hetairae of Athens, was a function to be remembered.
Yet somehow Demetrius found his second visit to Athens less enjoyable than his first. Once again he had freed the city, if not from an alien garrison at least from a blockade of the landward gates. But the citizens were not quite so grateful.
Then he had been bringing them democracy, now they had lived with it for three years. The meetings of the Assembly, once an enthralling novelty, had become a tiresome duty; military service, eagerly hailed as the badge of the free citizen, was less amusing after three campaigns in the field and the prospect of a fourth in the spring. It was not only the war which made Stratocles levy higher taxes than the Phalerian had needed; there were now a great many professional politicians, all accustomed to a high standard of living. In addition, the city was expected to contribute to the pay of the Army of Liberation. Trade flourished, with the islands friendly and the seas policed by the greatest navy in the world; but though merchants and manufacturers made good profits, they had very little left after the tax-gatherer had taken his due.
Demetrius was not exactly pressed for money; he could never be penniless while the cities of Hellas lacked military force to guard their treasuries. But sometimes he wondered where he would find the silver to pay his troops next month, and that was a novel experience. In the old days his father would send a shipload of bullion whenever he was asked for it. But now that Antigonus was enlarging his own army he could not spare money for Europe; the lord of all the islands and most of mainland Hellas must pay his own way from his own revenues.
Yet Demetrius had given these cities their freedom. They were his allies, not his subjects. As was fitting, they offered voluntary contributions to his war-chest; he would feel embarrassed if he were driven to plunder them by force.
It was unfortunate that Lamia spent so lavishly. Of course a woman in her position must make provision for old age, and it was only right that his acknowledged mistress should live as well as the wealthiest Athenian. But the dear silly woman had no sense of money at all. She wandered through the market buying everything in sight, the more expensive the better. She sent all her bills to the paymaster at army headquarters.
Luckily he could rely on Stratocles. He disliked the man, and the man disliked him; but neither could get on without the other. The demagogue had climbed so high that he could not now resign office and keep his head; yet his majority in the Assembly showed signs of splitting. Some minor demagogues were beginning to hanker after peace with Cassander, hoping that Athens might stay free even while a king reigned in Macedonia. They dared not talk openly against the all-powerful Saviour God, but they could hint their opposition by voting against his minister Stratocles.
Whenever Demetrius sat down with his officers to plan the summer campaign he rose with his mind full of nagging worries. He could only forget these worries in the full tide of Lamia’s exciting parties.
These parties followed the accepted pattern; five or six gay young Athenian noblemen, with the same number of hetairae; witty conversation and excellent food; as the wine circulated anecdotes became less plausible and arguments less convincing. It was agreed that these parties went better if they were held at Lamia’s house; Athenians could not let themselves go in their sacred shrine on the Acropolis.
Stratocles was wise enough to make Lamia his ally, by the simple method of buying her goodwill. The people of Athens spontaneously offered a gift to their distinguished visitor in gratitude for her impersonation of Aphrodite at their festival - the stupendous gift of 550 talents. Stratocles maintained, of course, that this huge mass of money lay idle in the treasury, already dedicated to religious uses, and might lawfully be given as a thank-offering for the ceremony. Demetrius knew that in fact it had been raised by rigorous taxation, and that the citizens grudged every penny. But there was nothing he could do. If Lamia did not take the gift Stratocles would keep it himself.
As a robber Stratocles might be crude, but in the ordinary work of government he was as ingenious as he was spiteful. He knew Demetrius disapproved of the gift, and involved him thoroughly in the giving of it. Only the Saviour God was worthy to recompense Lamia-Aphrodite for her services to the city; Demetr
ius must publicly receive the money and publicly hand it over to his mistress.
The citizens assumed that Demetrius had forced Stratocles to levy the tax, ostensibly to pay the army; and then cheated the faithful demagogue by giving it to his whore. There was no contradicting a rumour of that kind, put about by a clever politician; it would be held against Demetrius for as long as his name was remembered.
He hoped to recapture some popularity by falling in with one of the favourite amusements of all well-born Athenians. Among the educated and fashionable it was the done thing to chase boys.
That posed a personal problem. Demetrius had never tried to bridle his desires; as heir to the ruler of Asia, he had chased any woman who took his fancy. But boys did not appeal to him. It was as though he were lacking in some instinct implanted in every civilised Hellene; it must be due to that drop of barbarian blood which diluted the Hellenism of every true-born Macedonian. It seemed an unmanly weakness, and he set himself to overcome it.
He was inexperienced in these matters, so that both his affairs with Athenian boys went wrong. Since what he intended to do went against his inclination he failed to pick a suitable partner. The easiest course seemed to be to respond to the boy who made the most determined advances; youths languished at him in the streets and in the gymnasium, according to the custom of the Athenians. But most often he encountered young Cleaenetus, coming back scantily clothed from the palaestra or the baths; and the boy always smiled and waggled his bottom at him.
Cleaenetus was in every way a suitable friend; heir to a noble and wealthy family, a good athlete, considered handsome. Demetrius could not recognise his charm, but he thought it must be safe to go ahead. Lamia was delighted to arrange a rendezvous, with an excellent cold supper and no eavesdroppers.
The evening began badly. Demetrius, embarrassed, found he had nothing to say. The boy, however, was eager to talk. After a few expressions of love and admiration, which betrayed perhaps too careful preparation, he began to discuss his own affairs.
Elephants and Castles Page 13
