5. The King, the Earth, and the Water
The Good Gardener “The elite warrior Great King could also engage in agricultural work and influence the prosperity of the fields. Xenophon develops this theme with particular insistence in the Oeconomicus. In order to make his addressee (Critobidos) better understand the combined importance of war and agriculture, Socrates (fictitious mouthpiece of Xenophon) gives example of the king of the Persians:
Need we be ashamed of imitating the king of the Persians? For they say that he pays close attention to husbandry and the art of war, holding that these are two of the noblest and most necessary pursuits. (IV.40)
Then Xenophon returns indefatigably to this point: "As for the country, he personally examines so much of it as he sees in the course of his progress through it." The mission entrusted to the governors was to ensure "that their country is densely populated and that the land is in cultivation and well stocked with the trees of the district and crops" (lV.8*). In the shape of a specific illustration of a general policy, Xenophon is careful to include a reference to the paradises:
"Yet further," continues Socrates, "in all the districts he resides in and visits he takes care that there are (kepoi) 'paradises,' as they call them, full of all the good and beautiful things that the soil will produce, and in this he himself spends most of his time, except when the season precludes it."
"By Zeus," says Critobulos,
"Then it is of course necessary, Socrates, to take care that these paradises in which the king spends his time shall contain a fine stock of trees and all other beautiful things that the soil produces." (IV. 13-14*)
Elsewhere, Xenophon also states that his Cyrus ordered each of his satraps to establish paradises (Cyr. VIII.6.12). In fact, the Classical texts, Babylonian tablets, and also a few tablets from Persepolis show that there was at least one paradise in each satrapy. Among other examples, we may cite Plutarch's description of the paradise of the satrap Tissaphernes at Sardis, "the most beautiful of his parks, containing salubrious streams and meadows, where he had built pavilions, and paces of retirement royally and exquisitely adorned" (Plutarch, Ale. 24.7-0). The paradise at Dascylium was known to the Greeks for its fertility and charm (Xenophon, Hell. IV. 1.15—17). These qualities are depicted on several impressions and seals found at the site. Quintus Curtius wrote this about a paradise near Ecbatana: "The residences in that region have extensive, charming, and secluded parks with groves artificially planted; these were the special delight of both kings and satraps" (VII.2.22*). However, the paradises were not just hunting preserves; the preserves were only one constituent.
When Socrates was trying to convince Critobulos that Cyrus the Younger "would have proved an excellent ruler" (Oec. IV. 180-), he cited several sources in support of this assessment, including a description of Lysander's visit to Cyrus the Younger's paradise at Sardis:
"Lysander admired the beauty of the trees in it, the accuracy of the spacing, the straightness of the rows, the regularity of the angles and the multitude of the sweet scents that clung round them as they walked; and for wonder of these things he cried, 'Cyrus, I really do admire all these lovely things, but I am far more impressed with your agent's skill in measuring and arranging everything so exactly' Cyrus was delighted to hear this and said: 'Well, Lysander, the whole of the measurement and arrangement is my own work, and I did some of the planting myself.' 'What, Cyrus?' exclaimed Lysander, looking at him, and marking the beauty and perfume of his robes, and the splendour of the necklaces (to strepta) and bangles (pselia) and other jewels that he was wearing; 'did you really plant part of this with your own hands?' 'Does that surprise you, Lysander?' asked Cyrus in reply. "I swear by the Sun-god that I never yet sat down to dinner when in sound health, without first working hard at some task of war or agriculture, or exerting myself somehow.'" (IV.20-25-*)
There is no doubt that Xenophon's narratives came from a version that sang the praises of Cyrus the Younger's royal qualities and that the link between the Great King and agriculture was thus one of the constituent elements of Achaemenid royal ideology. In systematically underscoring the brutal contrast between the verdure of the paradise and the barrenness of its surroundings, the Classical authors—without being fully aware of it—participated in the exaltation of a sovereign powerful enough to create prosperity and vegetation in the face of unfavorable natural conditions. But in the passage above, Xenophon —the only Classical author to preserve this topos—brings in another characteristic feature: the king himself planted trees. This is not a Hellenizing invention of the author. We may cite a parallel passage from the book of Esther, which records the organization of a feast by Ahasuerus (Xerxes) in his palace at Susa; the author places the festival "in the enclosure adjoining the kings palace" (1:5*), The Vulgate says: "in the vestibule of the garden and the woods, which had been planted by the royal hands with a magnificence worthy of them" (horti et nemoris quwi regio cultu et maim consitum erat). More importantly, two iconographic testimonies confirm and illustrate the theme of gardener-king. A cylinder seal from the Achaemenid era shows a Persian using his long staff to guide a pair of oxen with humps drawing a plow. An almost identical scene is found on a coin from Tarsus in Cilicia: the work scene is shown on the obverse, surmounted by a winged disk, with the reverse showing a cow suckling a calf. There is scarcely any doubt that in both cases it is the king himself being shown as a gardener.
Xerxes and the Plane (or Sycamore) Tree Other texts attest to a special relationship between the Great King and flora. In the course of his story of Xerxes' march between Phrygia and Sardis, Herodotus slates concisely, "it was hereabouts that he came across a plane tree of such beauty that he was moved to decorate it (doresamenos) with golden ornaments (kosmos chryseos) and to leave behind one of his Immortals to guard it" (VII.31-*). The story was clearly very popular among the Greeks; another version has it that during Xerxes' passage through Phrygia (on his return from Europe) a plane (sycamore) tree metamorphosed miraculously into an olive tree. In his Variae Historiae, Aelian returns twice to the anecdote:
The famous king Xerxes was ridiculous (gefoi'os), if it is true that he despised sea and land, the handiwork of Zeus, manufacturing for himself novel roads and abnormal sea route, and yet was the devotee (dedouloto) of a plane tree, which he admired. In Lydia, they say, he saw a large specimen of a plane tree, and stopped for that day without any need. He made the wilderness around the tree his camp (stathmos), and attached to it expensive ornaments, paying homage to the branches with necklaces (strepta) and bracelets (pselia). He left a caretaker (meledon) for it, like a guard (phylake) to provide security (phrouros), as if it were a woman he loved. What benefit accrued to the tree as a result? The ornaments it had acquired, which were quite inappropriate to it, hung on it without serving any purpose and made no contribution to its appearance, since the beauty of a tree consists of fine branches, abundant leaves, a sturdy trunk, deep roots, movement in the wind, shadow spreading all around, change in accordance with the passing of seasons, with irrigation channels to support it and rain water to sustain it. Xerxes' robes (chlamydes), barbarian gold, and the other offerings (dora) did not ennoble the plane or any other tree.
Aelian judges royal behavior just as severely and condescendingly elsewhere. He includes it among other examples of love "ridiculous (geloioi) and bizarre (paradoxoi)" for the same reasons as the passion avowed by a young Athenian for a statue of Tyche or attachments between humans and animals (IX.39*). This assessment (no trace of it is found in Herodotus) comes from the negative vision of Xerxes transmitted by all of the Greek authors who —following the model of their inspiration, Aelian—denounced the immoderation (hybris) of a man who did not shrink from affronting the laws of man and god by throwing a bridge across the sea. The same assumption of balance and moderation led Aelian to exalt the laws of nature that did not permit unnatural loves between humans and nonhumans, or personal, emotional relationships between a man and a tree: the growth of vegetation is permitted (or forbidden) by the natural elements (waters, winds, seasons) and by the labor of the peasants (irrigation canals); the personal intervention even of a king as powerful as Xerxes is as nothing in the face of the immutable constraints of nature.
In view of this, it is clear that Aelian understood nothing of the court history that he read, perhaps in Herodotus himself, and that he embellished with a moralizing commentary suitable for reaching his Greek readers. If his account is read back into Persian and Iranian mindsets, it provides another attestation of the special relationship between the king and the vegetable kingdom. The gifts to the plane tree are of exactly the same kind as the gifts that the king presented to his Faithful and his Benefactors (bracelets, necklaces, robes) —that is, to the men who deserved to be recognized for their loyalty and devotion to the Royal House and to the person of the king. The Lydian plane tree was thenceforth as richly decorated as the Immortal whom Xerxes appointed as its guard and whose jewelry Quintus Curtius described as follows: "They are especially the ones whom a barbarian luxury of opulence rendered the most imposing: for them gold necklaces, for them robes embroidered with gold and sleeved tunics, also adorned with gems" (III.3.13). But these are also the jewelry worn by the king himself, as Xenophon recalls, stressing that the ornaments did not impede Cyrus the Younger from planting trees.
There can hardly be any doubt that this episode echoes the existence of a tree cult. Several seals convey similar scenes. One of them (inscribed with the name of Xerxes) shows a person dressed and coiffed like a Persian king about to place a crown in front of a stylized tree of life. One of the Persepolis seals is particularly interesting. Two guards (similar to the guards shown at Susa and Persepolis) stand at attention, lances upright in front of them, on other side of a palm tree, the winged disk surmounting the scene. We are immediately reminded of the Immortals assigned to guard Xerxes' plane tree! ... Achaemenid palaces were probably the model for the decoration of the palace of the Mauryan king at Pataliputra: "His palace has gilded columns: over all of these runs a vine carved in gold, and silver figures of birds, in the sight of which they take the greatest pleasure, adorn the structure" (Quintus Curtius VIII.8.26*). We are immediately reminded of the famous Assyrian banquet under the arbor (fig. 32). There is no doubt that in the Near East (and in many other parts of the ancient world) the vine was recognized and hailed as a symbol of fecundity, and its increase was considered a gauge of power. A good illustration is found in the dream that Herodotus says the Median king Astyages had shortly after his daughter Mandane's marriage to the Persian Cambyses:
It was that a vine grew from his daughter's private parts and spread over Asia.... He told the interpreters about this dream, and then sent for his daughter, who was now pregnant. When she arrived, he kept her under strict watch, intending to make away with the child; for the fact was that the Magi had interpreted the dream to mean that his daughter's son would usurp his throne. (I.I08*)
Such were the favorable auspices under which Cyrus vvas born. The vine that grew from Mandane's private parts was obviously nothing other than the guarantee of an uncommon destiny for the child and reports of conquests extending across all Asia. This is precisely what the Median king understood: "This dream announced the greatness [of the child about to be born] and presaged to Astyages the end of his crown." Hence the attempts to banish the baby and the happy outcome of the founder legend.
Artaxerxes II in the Paradise In the Achaemenid ideological context, we have two other testimonies that are particularly evocative of relations between the Great King and arboreal flora. In the Life of Artaxerxes, Plutarch tells of the difficulties encountered by the king and his army after their return from an expedition against the Cadusians. The army suffered from so many shortages that the chefs were unable to prepare the royal dinner (24.3). Then Plutarch includes the following anecdote:
After they had arrived at one of his own mansions (stathnios basilikos), which had beautiful ornamented parks in the midst of a region naked and without trees, the weather being very cold, be gave full commission to his soldiers to provide themselves with wood by cutting down any, without exception, even the pine and cypress. And when they hesitated and were for sparing them, being large and goodly trees, he, taking up an axe himself, felled the greatest and most beautiful of them. After which his men used their hatchets, and piling up many fires, passed away the night at their ease. (JJ25.1*)
It is clear that this passage is part of a discussion of the royal virtues of Artaxerxes II, whose physical stamina and bravery Plutarch wished to stress, as well as his abilities as a leader (§24.9-11). The connection between the king and the foliage was so well known to the soldiers that they did not dare to raise their axes against the trees, despite the king's authorization. This confirms the role of the king as the trees' protector. A paradise had to remain "undisturbed," that is, free from the ravages of war (Quintus Curtius VIII.1.13*; cf. Polybius XXXI.29), The felling of trees in the paradise was considered an affront to the sovereignty and majesty of the Great King. It is quite striking that, according to Diodorus of Sicily (XVI.41.5*), the first hostile act of the revolt by the Phoenicians against Artaxerxes III was "the cutting clown and destroying of the royal park in which the Persian Kings were wont to take their recreation." Similarly, under the guise of reprisals, Cyrus the Younger ravaged the paradise of the satrap Belesys, who had sided with Artaxerxes II (Xenophon, Anab. 1.4.2), and the Spartan king Agesilaus "ravaged the orchards and the paradise of Tissaphernes" near Sardis (Diodorus XIV.80.2). Let us also stress that, as in Aelian's version and in many other texts, Plutarch accents the contrast between the aridity of the surrounding countryside and the flamboyant fecundity of the paradise. Of the various tree species, Plutarch also seems to accord special value to pines and cypresses, because these species could only grow in these regions through acclimatization accompanied by intensive care, obviously on the initiative of the royal administration. Strabo, explaining the difficulties that Alexander encountered in 325-324 in procuring wood in Babylonia, states that Babylonia suffered "a scarcity of timber," so much so that Alexander had to sacrifice "the cypress trees in the groves and the parks" (XVI. 1.1 ) .At Persepolis itself, many reliefs are punctuated by rows of pines (or cypresses).
Clearchus's Tomb The story of Clearchus, Cyrus the Younger's closest Greek associate, whose abilities as commander-in-chief Xenophon vaunts at length (Anab. II.3.11-13; 6.1-15), may also be mentioned in this connection. Shortly after the battle of Cunaxa, Clearchus and other Greek generals fell into the hands of the satrap Tissaphernes (II.5.31-32). Despite the claims of Xenophon (II.5.38), Clearchus was not put to death immediately but was imprisoned, according to Ctesias. Ctesias then established a relationship with the general. Ctesias was undoubtedly following instructions from Cyrus the Younger's mother, Parysatis, who thus once more exhibited her desire to honor the memory of her favorite son. Contrary to Parysatis's wishes, however, Artaxerxes gave in to the repeated importunings of his wife, Stateira, and Clearchus was executed (Plutarch, Art. 18.4; Ctesias, Persica §60). At this point, Ctesias describes the divine signs that accompanied the burial of Clearchus:
An extraordinary sight (terns) appeared around his body. In fact, spontaneously (automates), a very high mound rose over his corpse with the breath of a great wind. (§60)
Citing Ctesias, Plutarch records the event with even more detail than Photius, adding an important detail:
As for the remains of Clearchus, that a violent gust of wind, bearing before it a vast heap of earth, raised a mound to cover his body, upon which, after a short time, some dates having fallen there, a beautiful grove (akos) of trees grew up and overshadowed the place. (§18.7*)
Plutarch obviously considers Ctesias's information worthless and makes the accusation that "this part of his history is a sort of funeral exhibition in honour of Clearchus." He also points out that if the trees did grow that way, it was not automates (spontaneously) but because "dates had fallen there." Plutarch's doubts are certainly well founded. But Ctesias did not give these details simply because of his loyalty to Sparta (Clearchus was a Spartan), for which Plutarch denounces him elsewhere (§13.7). It is clear that Ctesias passed on a version that originated in the circle of Parysatis, who once again was trying to enhance the memory of Cyrus by dramatizing a faithful lieutenant's extraordinary destiny. Ctesias even contrasts Clearchus's fate with the fate of other Greek generals, "who were torn apart by dogs and birds" (§7). This detail clearly refers to funerary customs known in eastern Iran and in the Avesta (which is more recent), which forbade underground burial and anticipated that animals and birds would strip the flesh from corpses. We thus find ourselves in a Persian and Iranian religious context. The punchline of Ctesias's story, as repeated by Plutarch, confirms this: when Artaxerxes saw the luxuriant grove that later graced Clearchus's tomb, he "declared his sorrow, concluding that in Clearchus he put to death a man beloved of the gods" (theois philos; §18.8-0). In other words, the propaganda released by Parysatis's supporters repealed, on behalf of Clearchus, the royal ideological theme that we are considering: because of the king's privileged relationship with the deities who guarantee prosperity, he was honored by vegetation that thrived without human intervention (automatos). The gods themselves created a paradise in the form of a sacred grove (akos) whose foliage overshadowed a tumulus located in an arid region. Through Clearchus, therefore, as Ctesias wrote, "a sign [was] sent by the gods (teres)" that came to provide a striking posthumous confirmation of the royal attributes that Cyrus the Younger liked to claim.
The Rainmaker and Master of the Storm Royal power was manifested even more directly in the cycles of nature. The clearest reference to this is Polyaenus's discussion of Darius's 519 expedition against the Saka of Central Asia (VII. 11.12). Due to the treachery of the Sakian Sirakes, the guide, the Great King's army found itself in an absolutely barren region with neither water nor food supplies, where neither bird nor any other beast could be seen. Salvation came from Darius himself:
He climbed a very high hill, and after fixing his scepter in the ground, he placed his tiara and the royal diadem on top of his royal robe (kandys). This was at sunrise. He prayed to Apollo to save the Persians and to send them water from heaven. The god listened, and abundant rain fell.
The story told by Polyaenus is obviously Persian in origin. Details in it are attested elsewhere: the sacred location (a mountain), the time (sunrise), the interlocutor (the king), the prayers and worship regularly rendered by the Persians to the forces of nature ("They also worship the sun, moon, and earth, fire, water, winds"; Herodotus 1.131-0). Furthermore, to mask his evil intent and subterfuge, Sirakes did not hesitate to "call the eternal Fire and the sacred Water to witness" in Darius's presence.
Only the god is unnamed. Polyaenus mentions Apollo, who frequently stands for Mithra in Greek sources. Nonetheless, in this context Polyaenus's Apollo seems to designate a deity specifically connected with rain. Perhaps it was Tistrya, the deity to whom Yasht 8 of the Avesta was dedicated and who was closely linked to Mithra in Iranian tradition. He was the liberator of the waters and was the deity to whom prayers for rain were addressed, particularly in the hot season. However, Polyaenus's text perfectly expresses the king's role as intercessor between gods and men. Darius strips off all of the attributes of royalty: the royal robe, scepter, tiara, and diadem. It is the scepter stuck in the ground that causes the rain. By granting his prayer, the god confirms and exalts the exceptional position of the king. The story, which the author places in an Iranian-speaking country, is built on a series of motifs that highlight the king's privileged relation with the deities and the power that he drew from his intimacy with the gods who govern the elements of nature.
Ctesias presents further evidence of the cosmic power of the Great King, preserved in Photius's summary. Among all of the marvels he reports about India, Ctesias mentions a "fountain that is filled every year with liquid gold":
He also talks about the iron found at the bottom of the fountain. Ctesias claimed to have had two swords made from this metal: one was a gift from the king, the other a gift from the king’s [Artaxerxes II] mother Parysatis. Regarding this iron he says that if it is thrust into the ground, it deflects thick clouds, hail, and storms. He claims that the king did this twice in his sight. (Indica §4)
The two texts have at least one element in common. In order to bring down rain or divert storms, the Great Kings had to drive a royal symbol (scepter, sword) into the ground as an apotropaic ritual. At one point, the texts of Polyaenus and Ctesias remind us of what Herodotus writes about certain religious customs of the Scythians. He recalls that, based on the model of the Persians, the Scythians do not erect cult statues, altars, or temples to their gods, except for Ares (IV.59), to whom the various Scythian tribes dedicate a sanctuary, a sort of platform with its height limited to the height of a tall heap of firewood. And Herodotus adds; "On the top of it is planted an ancient iron sword (akinakes), which serves for the image of Ares. Annual sacrifices of horses and other cattle are made to this sword" (IV.62*). Ares, in this case, is both the god of war and the god of storm. The relationship between the Great King and the storm is also attested in the founder legends. In Nicolaus of Damascus's version, the first encounters between Astyages' Medes and Cyrus's Persians took place in Persia, near Pasargadae, and turned to the disadvantage of the latter, who were soon besieged on a mountain. Cyrus then made his way to the his parents' goatherds' house and made a sacrifice in the courtyard:
On a base of cypress and laurel trunks he sacrificed barley flour, and he started the fire by friction, in the manner of a poor man with no equipment. Soon, from the right, came lightning and thunder: Cyrus did obeisance [proskynesis]. Then, landing on the house, birds (of prey) of good augury appeared, whereupon Cyrus departed for Pasargadae. Then they organized a great meal and stationed themselves on the mountain. The next day, made confident by these birds, they descended toward the enemies at the same time the enemies were ascending toward the summit, and they fought long, vigorously, and courageously.
To renew the courage of his troops, then, it appears that Cyrus prayed to the storm-god, who legitimated Cyrus's ability as commander-in-chief by manifesting himself to all.
Finally, let us mention the legend of the origin of Mithradates. Plutarch records that a storm broke over his cradle when he was a newborn. The baby's swaddling clothes were burned by a thunderbolt, but the child was safe and sound, though he was left with an indelible mark on his forehead from the lightning. This divine sign in itself qualified him to be king.”
- Pierre Briant, From Cyrus to Alexander: A History of the Persian Empire. Translated by Peter T. Daniels. Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 2002. pp. 232-240.
