Perseus or War Explained of the Preparation and Conduct necessary to War

“The fable relates, that Perseus was despatched from the east by Pallas, to cut off Medusa’s head, who had committed great ravage upon the people of the west; for this Medusa was so dire a monster, as to turn into stone all those who but looked upon her. She was a Gorgon, and the only mortal one of the three; the other two being invulnerable. Perseus, therefore, preparing himself for this grand enterprise, had presents made him from three of the gods: Mercury gave him wings for his heels; Pluto, a helmet; and Pallas, a shield and a mirror. But though he was now so well equipped, he posted, not directly to Medusa, but first turned aside to the Greæ, who were half-sisters to the Gorgons. These Greæ were gray-headed, and like old women from their birth, having among them all three but one eye, and one tooth, which, as they had occasion to go out, they each wore by turns, and laid them down again upon coming back. This eye and this tooth they lent to Perseus, who, now judging himself sufficiently furnished, he, without further stop, flies swiftly away to Medusa, and finds her asleep. But not venturing his eyes, for fear she should wake, he turned his head aside, and viewed her in Pallas’s mirror, and thus directing his stroke, cut off her head; when immediately, from the gushing blood, there darted Pegasus winged. Perseus now inserted Medusa’s head into Pallas’s shield, which thence retained the faculty of astonishing and benumbing all who looked on it.”

This fable seems invented to show the prudent method of choosing, undertaking, and conducting a war. The chief thing to consider in undertaking war is a commission from Pallas, certainly not from Venus, as the Trojan war was, or other slight motive. Because the designs of war ought to be justified by wise counsels. As to the choice of war, the fable propounds three grave and useful precepts.

The first is, that no prince should be over-solicitous to subdue a neighboring nation: for the method of enlarging an empire is very different from that of increasing an estate. Regard is justly had to contiguity or adjacency in private lands and possessions; but in the extending of empire, the occasion, the facility, and advantage of a war, are to be regarded instead of vicinity. Thus Perseus, though an eastern prince, readily undertook an expedition into the remotest parts of the western world. An opposite instance of the wisdom of this precept occurs in the different strategy of war practiced by Philip and Alexander. For Philip urged war only on the frontiers of his empire, and with great strife and peril barely succeeded in bringing a few cities under his rule, but Alexander carried his invading arms into distant countries; and with a felicitous boldness undertook an expedition against Persia, and subduing multitudinous nations on his journey, rested at last rather fatigued with conquest than with arms. This policy is further borne out by the propagation of the Roman power; for at the time that the arms of this martial people on the side of the west stretched no further than Liguria, they had brought under their dominion all the provinces of the east as far as Mount Taurus. In like manner, Charles the Eighth, finding a war with Great Britain attended with some dangers, directed his enterprise against Naples, which he subdued with wonderful rapidity and ease. One of the causes of these wonderful successes in distant wars is the low state of discipline and equipment, which invites the attack of the invading power, and the terror which is generally struck into the enemy from the bold audacity of the enterprise. Nor can the enemy retaliate or effect any reciprocal invasion, which always results from a war waged with the frontier nations. But the chief point is, that in subduing a neighboring state the choice of stratagems is narrowed by circumstances; but in a distant expedition, a man may roll the tide of war where the military discipline is most relaxed, or where the strength of the nation is most torn and wasted by civil discord, or in whatever part the enemy can be the most easily subjugated.

The second precept is, that the cause of the war be just and honorable; for this adds alacrity both to the soldiers and the people who find the supplies, procures aids, alliances, and numerous other conveniences. Now, there is no cause of war more just and laudable than the suppressing of tyranny, by which a people are dispirited, benumbed, or left without life and vigor, as at the sight of Medusa. Such heroic acts transformed Hercules into a divinity. It was undoubtedly a point of religion with the Romans to aid with valor and speed such of their allies and confederates as were in any way distressed. So just and vindictive wars have generally met with success; as the war of the triumvirate in revenge for the death of Cæsar, the war of Severus for the death of Pertinax, and of Junius Brutus for the death of Lucretia; for they who take up arms to relieve and revenge the calamities of men fight under the standard of Perseus.

Lastly, it is prudently added, that as there were three of the Gorgons who represent war, Perseus singled her out for his expedition that was mortal; which affords this precept, that such kind of wars should be chosen as may be brought to a conclusion without pursuing vast and infinite hopes.

Again, Perseus’ setting out is extremely well adapted to his undertaking, and in a manner commands success—he received despatch from Mercury, secrecy from Pluto, and foresight from Pallas. It also contains an excellent allegory, that the wings given him by Mercury were for his heels, not for his shoulders, because expedition is not so much required in the first preparations for war as in the subsequent matters that administer to the first; for there is no error more frequent in war than, after brisk preparations, to halt for subsidiary forces and effective supplies.

The allegory of Pluto’s helmet rendering men invisible and secret, is sufficiently evident of itself; for secretness appertains to celerity, inasmuch as speed prevents the disclosure of counsels: it therefore succeeds in importance. Pluto’s helmet also seems to imply, that authority over the army is to be lodged in one chief; as directing committees in such cases are too apt to scatter dissensions among the troops, and to be swayed by paltry freaks and jealousies rather than by patriotism. It is not of less importance to discover the designs of the enemy, for which purpose the mirror of Pallas must be joined to the helmet of Pluto to disclose the weakness, the divisions, counsels, spies, and factions of the enemy. But as these arms are not sufficient to cope with all the casualties of war, we must grasp the shield of Pallas, i.e., of Providence, as a defence from the caprices of fortune. To this belong the despatch of spies, the fortification of camps, the equipment and position of the army, and whatever tends to promote the success of a just defensive war. For in the issue of contests the shield of Pallas is of greater consequence than the sword of Mars.

But though Perseus may now seem extremely well prepared, there still remains the most important thing of all—before he enters upon the war he must of necessity consult the Greæ. These Greæ are treasons, half but degenerate sisters of the Gorgons, who are representatives of wars; for wars are generous and noble, but treasons base and vile. The Greæ are elegantly described as hoary-headed, and like old women from their birth, on account of the perpetual cares, fears, and trepidations attending traitors. Their force also, before it breaks out into open revolt, consists either in an eye or a tooth; for all faction alienated from a state is both watchful and biting, and this eye and tooth is as it were common to all the disaffected, because whatever they learn and know is transmitted from one to another, as by the hands of faction. And for the tooth they all bite with the same, and clamor with one throat, so that each of them singly expresses the multitude.

These Greæ, therefore, must be prevailed upon by Perseus to lend him their eye and their tooth—the eye to give him indications and make discoveries, the tooth for sowing rumors, raising envy, and stirring up the minds of the people. And when all these things are thus disposed and prepared, then follows the action of the war.

He finds Medusa asleep; for whoever undertakes a war with prudence generally falls upon the enemy unprepared, and nearly in a state of security; and here is the occasion for Pallas’s mirror, for it is common enough, before the danger presents, to see exactly into the state and posture of the enemy; but the principal use of the glass is in the very instant of danger, to discover the manner thereof and prevent consternation, which is the thing intended by Perseus’ turning his head aside and viewing the enemy in the glass.

Two effects here follow the conquest—1. The darting forth of Pegasus, which evidently denotes fame, that flies abroad, proclaiming the victory far and near. 2. The bearing of Medusa’s head in the shield, which is the greatest possible defence and safeguard; for one grand and memorable enterprise, happily accomplished, bridles all the motions and attempts of the enemy, stupefies disaffection, and quells commotions.