Aratus

Plutarch

Plutarch. Plutarch's Lives, Vol. XI. Perrin, Bernadotte, translator. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; London: William Heinemann Ltd., 1926.

For as soon as they had entered the city, the common soldiers had scattered themselves among the houses, jostling and fighting with one another over the booty, while the leaders and captains were going about and seizing the wives and daughters of the Pellenians, on whose heads they put their own helmets, that no one else might seize them, but that the helmet might show to whom each woman belonged. But while they were in this situation and thus engaged, word was suddenly brought them that Aratus had attacked. Dismay fell upon them, as was natural amid such disorder, and before all had learned of the danger the foremost of them, engaging with the Achaeans at the gates and in the suburbs, were already conquered and in full flight, and being driven in headlong rout, they filled with dismay those who were collecting together and coming to their aid.

In the midst of this confusion, one of the captive women, daughter of Epigethes, a man of distinction, and herself conspicuous for beauty and stateliness of person, chanced to be sitting in the sanctuary of Artemis, where she had been placed by the captain of a picked corps, who had seized her for his prize and set his three-crested helmet upon her head. But suddenly she ran forth to view the tumult,

and as she stood in front of the gate of the sanctuary and looked down upon the combatants from on high, with the three-crested helmet on her head, she seemed to the citizens themselves a vision of more than human majesty, while the enemy thought they saw an apparition from heaven and were struck with amazement and terror, so that not a man of them thought of defending himself. But the Pellenians themselves tell us that the image of the goddess usually stands untouched, and that when it is removed by the priestess and carried forth from the temple, no man looks upon it, but all turn their gaze away; for not only to mankind is it a grievous and terrible sight, but trees also, past which it may be carried, become barren and cast their fruit.

This image, then, they say, the priestess carried forth from the temple at this time, and by ever turning it in the faces of the Aetolians robbed them of their senses and took away their reason. Aratus, however, in his Commentaries, makes no mention of such a thing, but says that after routing the Aetolians and bursting into the city with them as they fled, he drove them out by main force, and slew seven hundred of them. The action was extolled as among the greatest exploits, and Timanthes the painter made a picture of the battle which in its composition vividly portrayed the event.

Notwithstanding, since many peoples and dynasts were combining against the Achaeans, Aratus at once sought to make friends of the Aetolians, and with the assistance of Pantaleon, their most influential man, not only made peace, but also an alliance between them and the Achaeans.

But in his eagerness to set Athens free he incurred the bitter reproaches of the Achaeans, because, though they had made a truce and suspended hostilities with the Macedonians, he attempted to seize the Peiraeus. He himself, however, in the Commentaries which he left, lays the blame for this attempt upon Erginus, with whose aid he had effected the capture of Acrocorinthus.

He says that Erginus attacked the Peiraeus on his own private account, and that when his scaling-ladder broke and the enemy were pursuing him, he kept calling upon Aratus by name, as if Aratus were there, and thus deceived and made his escape from them. But this defence does not seem to be convincing. For Erginus was a private man and a Syrian, and there is no likelihood that he would have conceived of so great an undertaking if he had not been under the guidance of Aratus and obtained from him the force and the fitting time for the attack.

And Aratus himself also made this plain, since he assaulted the Peiraeus, not twice or thrice, but many times, like a desperate lover, and would not desist in spite of his failures, but was roused to fresh courage by the very narrowness of the slight margin by which he was disappointed of his hopes. And once he actually put his leg out of joint as he fled through the Thriasian plain; and while he was under treatment for this, the knife was often used upon him, and for a long time he was carried in a litter upon his campaigns.