The fourth century bce saw a number of important changes in Greek warfare, to the point that Demosthenes could say: ‘I believe that nothing has been innovated and improved more than the art of war’ (Dem. 9.47).Footnote 1 One of the most significant innovations was the rise of mercenaries.Footnote 2 While this was not an absolute innovation, since Greeks had served as mercenaries for centuries at home and abroad, at this time the phenomenon took a new dimension, both in terms of scale and of importance. Mercenaries feature prominently in the armies of dynasts and tyrants like Cyrus the Younger, Dionysios of Syracuse, and Jason of Pherai.Footnote 3 Poleis also started making use of them with increasing frequency. The Athenian condottieri often led armies combining citizen soldiers and mercenaries, and the Phokians employed large numbers of hired soldiers during the Third Sacred War (356–46).Footnote 4 Both Philip and Alexander employed mercenaries in their campaigns, and, after the death of Alexander, mercenaries served in the armies of the diadochs.Footnote 5
While participation by mercenaries in different campaigns is well attested, there is one aspect on which our evidence is limited. What was the Greek perception of these soldiers?Footnote 6 Some partial answers come from the texts of fourth century authors, in particular those thinking about politics and war. In his treatise on sieges, Aeneas Tacticus takes the presence of mercenaries in the city for granted but warns the reader not to trust them completely. As people who fight for money, they are always ready to change sides and they should be kept under close surveillance.Footnote 7 Athenian orators are ambivalent as well. Isocrates recognizes their fighting skills, but despises their lack of loyalty and calls them ‘the common enemy of mankind’ (Isoc. 8.46).Footnote 8 Demosthenes does not trust mercenary leaders, but suggests deploying some contingents alongside Athenian citizens.Footnote 9 However, some of Isaeus’ speeches paint a more nuanced picture. As I will explain later in detail, in his corpus the profession of mercenary is openly discussed and bears no social stigma.
In order to shed further light on this problem I introduce new evidence on the perception of mercenaries – the comedies of Menander. The character of the soldier has an important role in Menander's plays, but has rarely been discussed as historical evidence.Footnote 10 Scholars have traditionally studied soldiers from a literary or dramaturgical perspective only, explaining Menander's positive depiction of soldiers on stage as a theatrical choice, a way to break free from the traditional stock character and achieve originality.Footnote 11 I instead argue that the analysis of mercenaries in Menander's comedies can provide a helpful insight into Athenian attitudes towards this category in the late fourth century bce.Footnote 12 In the following pages I study depictions of soldiers and mercenary service in four comedies of Menander. I show that Menander consistently presented soldiers in a positive light in these works, and that he depicted mercenaries as good citizens. Finally, through a comparison with Isaeus’ legal speeches, I demonstrate that Menander's on-stage depiction of soldiers was not just the inversion of a theatrical stereotype but reflected popular perceptions of mercenaries. His plays thus provide us with valuable insight into Athenian views on this category.
I now analyse four comedies that depict mercenary soldiers favourably and show that these individuals were well-integrated into Athenian civic life. In the first scene of the Aspis, the slave Daos discusses his Athenian master Kleostratos, a mercenary now presumed dead. He tells the audience that he and his master were part of a mercenary army on an expedition against the Lykians.Footnote 13 After a successful battle, Kleostratos sent Daos back to Athens with his spoils but was then captured in a surprise attack, during which his tent-mate was killed while holding Kleostratos’ shield. By the time reinforcements arrived, the corpse was so badly decomposed that the tent-mate was assumed to be Kleostratos on the basis of the shield, and Daos proceeded to Athens thinking his master dead.
The whole context suggests we should take Daos’ words at face value. Not only the speech, but the entire first scene of the play has a very sombre and almost tragic tone. As scholars pointed out, Daos’ speech has several formal aspects that usually appear in tragedy. These include specific phrases, but also metrical resolutions.Footnote 14 Through these tragic parallels, which never become parody,Footnote 15 the audience is encouraged to sympathize with the unhappy circumstances that have struck the family, in particular with Kleostratos’ death, and thus to side with them in their efforts. Moreover, Daos himself is not a laughable character or a buffoon. Conversely, throughout the play we get to appreciate both his loyalty to the family and his resourcefulness.Footnote 16 The gullible negative character and main target of jokes is Smikrines, Kleostratos’ uncle.
The beginning of Daos’ speech highlights the dutiful nature of Kleostratos’ military service. Daos laments the death of his master, while stressing the gap between his past expectations and the present grim reality.
I thought you would come back from the campaign safe and covered in glory, that you'd live out the rest of your life in some style and dignity, with the title of General or Counsellor, and that you'd see your sister, for whose sake you went off on campaign, married to a man worthy of yourself.Footnote 17
Daos’ words shed light on some relevant aspects of mercenary service. We learn that Kleostratos joined the expedition with the goal of providing a dowry for his sister. As the audience will realize, their father is dead and Kleostratos is therefore her legal guardian (kyrios), and, according to Athenian custom, it fell to him to provide her with a dowry.Footnote 18 By serving abroad, Kleostratos was not chasing selfish dreams of wealth, but was trying to provide for his family.Footnote 19 Through Daos’ words, Menander is reminding his audience that for Kleostratos mercenary service was a way to fulfil his social and civic duty as a kyrios of his sister, who would otherwise have trouble finding a husband. Scholars have stressed the political importance of marriage in comedy, as a way to create lawful heirs and benefit not only the household but the polis as well.Footnote 20 Therefore, Menander is portraying Kleostratos’ choice to serve as a mercenary as deeply tied to civic life in Athens, and to his social duties as an Athenian citizen.
Moreover, in the dramatic fiction, Daos assumes Athenian public opinion on mercenary service to be quite positive. He mentions that if only his master had come home, he would have been held in great esteem (εὐδοξοῦντα). He also suggests that his fellow citizens would have valued his military experience and elected him to the office of general or counsellor.Footnote 21 In Daos’ imagined scenario, Athenians respect military experience, independently of whether it was acquired as a mercenary. In the Aspis, Menander portrays mercenary service as not bearing any social stigma. Conversely, it allows individual citizens to provide for their family and to improve their social status, thus supporting Athenian civic life.
Kleostratos’ on-stage appearance further supports the positive characterization already developed in the opening speech. Although the text cuts off and few lines survive, he salutes his native land, and seems to be thinking about his sister.
Greetings, oh dearest land…I pray to/for you…I, saved from many [dangers?]. If…I am here, [having found?] safety, …I see [my sister not?] in need…and/but if by good fortune Daos has escaped…I'd think myself [blessed?].Footnote 22
Both the salutation to the homeland, traditional in theatre, and the reference to his sister once again depict Kleostratos as a decent man who cares about the city and his family.Footnote 23
Finally, the play is dotted with further indications of Kleostratos’ good character. A cook mentions that, inside the house, the women of the family are mourning the fallen soldier (lines 226–8). Shortly after, his other uncle, Chairestratos, wishes Kleostratos had survived to marry his daughter and inherit half of his fortune (279–81). These references confirm that Kleostratos was beloved by all members of his household. In the Aspis nothing points to a negative depiction of mercenary service and soldiers. Conversely, Kleostratos’ figure and his service abroad are portrayed positively and in agreement with Athenian civic values.
The plot of Sikyonioi, unfortunately very fragmentary, revolves around the identification of the two main characters as free Athenian citizens.Footnote 24 Stratophanes, a soldier from Sikyon, is now in Athens with his household. Among them is Philoumene, Athenian by birth, who was kidnapped by pirates as a child and sold as a slave. Stratophanes bought her and raised her, and is now in love with her. Philoumene, however, runs away and seeks refuge as a suppliant in the sanctuary of Eleusis. There the slave Dromon convinces the assembled crowd that she is in fact a free Athenian. An assembly then takes place, in which Stratophanes himself, the young Moschion (also in love with Philoumene), and a third unidentified man argue about who should be the girl's guardian. In the end, the assembled Eleusinians decide to keep her under the supervision of the priestess of Demeter until her father is found. After an argument between Moschion and Stratophanes, it is confirmed that the latter is an Athenian citizen as well (and actually Moschion's brother). In the last act, Philoumene's father appears, and Stratophanes can obtain his permission to marry the girl.
One important scene for the characterization of Stratophanes is the assembly that takes place in front of the Eleusinian sanctuary, described through the speech of an Eleusinian messenger who took part in it (193–271). This speech has many close parallels with Euripides’ Orestes, in which a messenger recalls the Argive assembly deciding the fate of Orestes.Footnote 25 However, references to Euripides do not turn into parody, and the scene is serious overall.Footnote 26 Even before we hear Stratophanes’ words in the debate, the messenger's narrative marks him as a man to admire and pity. The Eleusinians did not particularly like Moschion, who just spoke. ‘He wasn't totally repulsive, but we didn't like him much – he rather seemed an adulterer’ (209–10).Footnote 27 In fact, when he first approaches the crowd, Moschion is described as ‘a pale, smooth-faced, and beardless lad’ (200–1).Footnote 28 All these features characterize him as the stereotype of the effeminate young man.Footnote 29 His shortcomings as a citizen and a public speaker are evident. He first starts speaking too quietly and then blushes noticeably (201–2, 208). Conversely, the messenger first describes Stratophanes as ‘someone quite manly in appearance (215).Footnote 30 Thanks to the comparison with Moschion, Stratophanes’ physical appearance acquires a moral value, marking him as a decent man. Additionally, the genuine feelings he has for Philoumene appear as soon as he sets his eyes on her. ‘But as he looked up [this girl] so close to him, he suddenly [let flow] a stream [of tears], and passionately ran his fingers through [his hair (?)], groaning the while. …gripped the people standing there’ (218–22).Footnote 31 The description of Stratophanes’ tears must have made him a quite sympathetic figure, and several scholars have suggested restoring the text accordingly: ‘[Now pity(?)] gripped the people standing there’.Footnote 32
In his speech, Stratophanes then shows respect for Athenian political and religious institutions and social conventions. First, he acts generously, giving the slave Dromon to Philoumene, and cancelling all the expenses he had during her upbringing (235–7). Then, when addressing the crowd, he does not try to get Philoumene back, but makes a more popular proposal.
Let her find her father and her relatives. I've no objections. ‘Fine’, we cried. ‘Hear my proposal, gentlemen’, he said. ‘You are her guardians, I've removed that fear from her, so place her with the priestess. She can guard that girl for you.’ This won great favour, as was proper. They all cried ‘That's fair!’ and then ‘Go on!’.Footnote 33
After quickly mentioning that he now believes himself to be Athenian, Stratophanes goes on.
Don't dash my hopes now, but if I as well am shown to share my citizenship with this girl, whom I protected for her father, let me ask him for her hand in marriage. None of my opponents must take charge of her before he's found! We cried ‘That's right and fair, that's right!’.Footnote 34
Through both words and actions Stratophanes shows the utmost respect for the rules of Athenian civic life. First, he does not try to oppose the assembled citizens and makes no boastful threats. Conversely, he values the institution enough to acknowledge that they are now the girl's temporary kyrioi. Moreover, he suggests placing her with the priestess of Demeter, one of the most respected religious figures in Athenian religious life.Footnote 35 Finally, he makes clear that the girl should ultimately be reunited to her father, her proper kyrios. It is to him that Stratophanes will ask permission to marry Philoumene. Far from being a violent foreigner, Stratophanes allows the girl to be placed under the protection of Athenian political and religious institutions and adheres to social conventions. A confirmation of the positive value of his words comes from the reaction of the assembly. After showing little appreciation for Moschion, they loudly welcome Stratophanes’ proposal (239, 245, 257–8), never mocking the soldier or rejecting his suggestions. Stratophanes’ successful participation in a pseudo-democratic institution like the informal assembly of the Eleusinians confirms that the figure of the mercenary is not in conflict with the democratic values of the polis. Stratophanes displays the characteristics of the proper citizen, who knows how to address the assembly and makes honest proposals.
Stratophanes’ treatment of Philoumene during the assembly is not an isolated instance, but a reflection of the type of character Menander develops throughout the play. I suggest that he is to be identified with the ‘very nice commander’ who bought Philoumene and Dromon as slaves, mentioned near the beginning of the play.Footnote 36 Moreover, throughout the play we learn that he raised her like a free woman and, most importantly, that she is still a virgin.Footnote 37 Stratophanes’ behaviour receives particular emphasis when he finally meets with the girl's father, Kichesias. In what must have been a memorable scene, Kichesias first shows great relief when hearing about his daughter's virginity and then thanks the soldier (377–81).
Stratophanes does not display these positive traits only now that he has learned he is an Athenian citizen. Even before, he never acts like a braggart soldier.Footnote 38 We instead see him in great distress when he receives news that his (adoptive) mother died (125–7). Nothing points to a transformation of the character from violent foreigner soldier to well-integrated citizen. Menander consistently depicts Stratophanes the soldier as a positive figure throughout the whole play.
The plot of Misoumenos (The Hated One) is only partially known to us because the papyri from which it is reconstructed are lacunose. It opens with the soldier Thrasonides pacing through the night in front of his own door. He is outside because Krateia, a slave he acquired during a campaign, and whom he loves and has been treating like a wife, now hates him. Her hatred for Thrasonides (which gives the name to the play) originates from a misunderstanding: the soldier has brought back the sword of a man he killed in battle. Krateia believes that to be her own brother, who is still alive but missing. Meanwhile, her father, Demeas, arrives into town looking for her. When the two are reunited, Demeas is also convinced that Thrasonides killed his son and denies him permission to marry the girl. Desperate, Thrasonides might have tried to commit suicide or simulated it in order to change Krateia's mind.Footnote 39 It is only at the end of the play that the misunderstanding is somehow resolved, and the soldier can finally take the girl in marriage.
Even in the surviving fragments of the play, Thrasonides consistently displays positive characteristics. His civic disposition is attested by his intention of marrying Krateia, making her his lawful wife. At the very beginning of the play we hear that Thrasonides was already treating Krateia like a wife, making her the mistress of the house and placing her in charge of other slaves: ‘That captive girl. I bought [her], promised her her freedom, made her my house[keeper], gave her servants, jewellery [and clothes], considered her my wife’ (37–40).Footnote 40 Once he then hears that her father is in town, his first thought is whether he will agree to their marriage.
You say Krateia's father [just] arrived? You'll either make me happy now, or quite the most heartbroken of all living creatures. Suppose he doesn't approve of me, or give her formally in marriage. Then Thrasonides is done for.Footnote 41
Thrasonides immediately thinks of marriage and does not try to defend his ownership claims over the girl, to Getas’ surprise (715–6). We are then told that Demeas’ denial made Thrasonides quite desperate.Footnote 42 Formalizing his union with Krateia is for Thrasonides not an afterthought, but a constant desire, advertised throughout the play. This intention marks his sensitivity as very civic, because of the close ties between marriage and the citizen community. Marriage has as its main goal the procreation of lawful heirs and, especially in Athens, the transmission of citizenship.Footnote 43 The audience is reminded of this aim at the end of the play, when Demeas uses the traditional Athenian betrothal formula, which specifically mentions the procreation of children: ‘I give to you my daughter, to have and hold, to harvest lawful children, and with her a dowry of two talents’ (974–6).Footnote 44 Such formula also suggests the characters may all be Athenian citizens.Footnote 45 In the character of Thrasonides there is no contradiction or tension between his occupation as a soldier and the desire to participate in the civic community through marriage. The two aspects coexist from the very beginning of the play.
Additionally, throughout the play Menander depicts Thrasonides not as a boastful soldier but as a desperate lover. In a powerful opening scene, he is outside of his own house, in a stormy night, weeping because Krateia does not seem to love him anymore (1–248). In this scene, which seems to have been quite popular in antiquity, Menander plays with traditional poetic elements and the expectations of his audience.Footnote 46
First, we see a twist to the traditional theme of the paraklausithyron (lament beside a door). As a desperate lover he is shut out of his own door, and by his own doing, because the story he made up to test Krateia's love now keeps him out of the house.Footnote 47 Thrasonides is conscious of his legal power over the girl, but he rejects such power and chooses to stay outside: ‘She's in there – in my house. I've got the chance, I want it just as much as the most ardent lover – yet I don't…I'd rather stand here shivering beneath a wintry sky’ (10–14).Footnote 48 This powerful display of self-control and sincere affection goes against the stereotype of the lustful soldier. Second, his desperate love is for a woman who, at least until recently, was his slave, in a position of subordination to him. Now, however, Thrasonides is enslaved by the love for his own prisoner.Footnote 49 Such reversals of traditional tropes have the overall effect of depicting Thrasonides as a likeable and sympathetic character.Footnote 50 To these, many scholars add the fact that, despite being a soldier, Thrasonides can deliver such a sentimental speech.Footnote 51 The evidence, however, from the other plays I have so far examined suggests caution. We should not be too surprised at seeing a soldier behave more like a desperate lover than a violent braggart. What appears on stage throughout the play should make us disregard the words of Choricius of Gaza, who describes Thrasonides as an example of swaggering and boastful character.Footnote 52 Choricius may have been misled by the soldier's name, taking it at face value.Footnote 53
Despite his name, in the Misoumenos Thrasonides does not fit the stereotype of the mercenary, a braggart soldier in radical opposition to the city. Conversely, with his interest in lawfully marrying Krateia he appears to comply with specific civic values. Moreover, in the surviving parts of the play he behaves like a concerned lover, not a violent boaster.
The Perikeiromene (The Girl Cropped Short) provides a slightly different perspective on mercenaries. In it, both references to war and military language occur with a certain regularity, and the soldier Polemon is closer to the stereotype of the violent soldier. In the first scene we hear that, after seeing his concubine Glykera embrace another man, Polemon forcefully cut her hair short.Footnote 54 What he ignores is that the man was Glykera's brother, Moschion, who still does not know about her identity. Angry at Polemon for the humiliation of the hair-cutting and for being unjustly suspected, Glykera leaves and finds shelter at her brother's house. Polemon first reacts angrily and stages a mockery of a siege to the house, then sends the reasonable Pataikos to try to convince her to come back. It will turn out that Pataikos is actually Glykera's father, also a Corinthian. In the end, the misunderstanding is resolved, and the two citizens can marry.
Polemon's identity as a soldier is frequently stressed throughout the play, in several ways. He is straightforwardly referred to as a στρατιώτης (soldier, 371) a ξένος (foreigner/mercenary, 361), a χιλιάρχος (commander of 1,000 men, 294), or a σοβαρὸς πολεμικός (soldierly braggart, 172). Moreover, both acts two and three have recurring insults and jokes on the theme of soldiering and warfare. First, in the exchange between the slaves Daos and Sosias we see terms like τετρώβολος and τετράδραχμος (soldier worth 4 obols and soldier worth 4 drachmas, 381–2), or τὰ πελτιά (shields, 392) and σάρισα (sarissa, 396).Footnote 55 Then, during the mock siege, we have further use of military terms and double entendre jokes based on them.Footnote 56 Although these do not solely refer to Polemon, they contribute to set the tone and to remind the audience of his occupation.
But, despite his occupation, Polemon himself is a nuanced character.Footnote 57 Cutting Glykera's hair is his only true violent act and does not reflect his real character, as the goddess Agnoia (Ignorance) tells the audience in the opening scene:
All this trouble has erupted toward a good end, so that he would lose his temper – he's not really like that, but I made him, so that the chain of events would be set in motion.Footnote 58
These words, coming from a goddess herself at the very beginning of the play, warn the audience not to take future descriptions of Polemon and of soldiers at face value. The ultimate positive goal of Polemon's behaviour reappears at the very end of the play, where Pataikos admits: ‘Your foul temper turned out to be the beginning of our good fortune’ (101–2).Footnote 59 Menander reminds the spectators that a goddess put all this in motion by changing Polemon's usual character. The negative portrayal of soldiers, like the complaint voiced by Glykera's maid, then become examples of dramatic irony.Footnote 60 The spectators can laugh at the old woman's disdain for mercenaries, having just being told by a goddess that the stereotype is false. Polemon's behaviour on stage for the rest of the play confirms the exceptionality of the hair-cutting. He acts like an unhappy lover, crying and declaring that he cannot live without his beloved Glykera.Footnote 61
In the Perikeiromene, Menander puts on stage a soldier who acts violently (although only once) and some jokes against mercenaries. However, he immediately undermines this criticism by making Polemon's actions part of a divine plan that will benefit the main characters. Naturally a good man and citizen, Polemon does not need any ‘civic education’ to marry Glykera happily.Footnote 62
In the previous pages I have shown that Menander gives a consistent portrayal of soldiers in his extant comedies. Far from being violent outcasts and braggart brutes, these soldiers are positive characters, young men in love with whom the audience can sympathize. More importantly, there is no radical opposition between them and the society and values of the polis. With no trace of irony, Menander has soldiers behave like good citizens, abiding the city's laws and respecting its customs.
In the past, scholars have often dismissed this portrayal of soldiers as just a purely theatrical choice. By putting on stage sensitive and good-hearted mercenaries, Menander was playing with the stock character of the soldier, which had an established tradition in Attic comedy.Footnote 63 However, the sheer number of positive depictions of soldiers and the consistency of their characterization suggests that originality was not the main goal. Among surviving plays, good soldiers are the standard. The figure of the braggart soldier is so exceptional that we only know of one possible case, the poorly attested Bias in the Kolax.Footnote 64
Moreover, similar positive depictions of mercenaries and mercenary service abroad appear in other fourth century sources, in particular some of Isaeus’ legal speeches. A comparison with this material proves that Menander's portrayal of soldiers is not just a stylistic choice and that he instead reflects the Athenian popular opinion on the subject. Scholars have previously pointed out that forensic oratory can help determine whether comic depictions relate to popular culture.Footnote 65 Just like in the theatre, the target audience of popular courts was predominantly non-elite.Footnote 66 Moreover, they directly determined who would win the case, and so speakers were pressured to consider what their audience wanted to hear.Footnote 67 A comparison with oratory also allows us to move away from the problematic questions of a playwright's political ideas and whether his personal views aligned with those of his audience.Footnote 68
In our case, Isaeus’ forensic speeches offer a valuable parallel, one relatively close in time to Menander's activity.Footnote 69 Several of his speeches mention mercenary service to different extents. In some cases, the speaker recalls his campaigns as a mercenary, while other speeches deal with the inheritance of Athenian citizens who made their fortune by serving abroad as mercenaries.Footnote 70 In all these instances, the profession of mercenary is openly discussed, and bears no social stigma. The speakers never describe it as something unworthy of an Athenian citizen, nor do they provide any kind of apology or excuse for their relatives’ choice. Mercenary service abroad simply does not have negative connotations. Because of the reasons mentioned above, we can assume Isaeus’ speeches confirmed the perceptions the Athenian people had of their fellow citizens who chose to serve as mercenaries.
The parallel between forensic oratory and Menander's plays shows that the playwright confirmed popular perceptions on mercenaries and mercenary service. When depicting soldiers as well-integrated citizens and positive characters, Menander was not simply innovating on a traditional stock character but confirming the views the Athenian demos had of this category. Menander's works thus constitute valuable evidence on Athenian attitudes towards mercenaries at the end of the fourth century bce. The overall image we get is a positive one. Mercenaries are law-abiding citizens, respectful of the city's institutions and customs. These soldiers are not outcasts or violent outsiders; indeed, service abroad is a way to support one's relatives, or just a temporary occupation before a stable marriage and return to life in the city.
Menander's work significantly improves our understanding of Athenian perception of mercenaries, by helping us draw a more nuanced picture. On the one hand, foreign mercenaries were seen as unreliable and untrustworthy. Politicians like Isokrates and Demosthenes warned their audience of the risks involved in hiring these men, despite their value in war. On the other hand, both Menander and Isaeus show that mercenary service itself was not a dishonest occupation for a fellow citizen. Athenians did not look down upon those among them who chose to make a living this way.