Alexander the Great Read online

  To Richard,

  who believes Alexander

  was the greatest demon.

  CONTENTS

  1. THE MAKING OF A HERO

  2. ALEXANDER, THE EMPEROR

  The White Stag

  3. THE CONQUEST BEGINS

  The Story of Achilles

  4. TROY

  Achilles’ Destiny

  5. PERSIA: ON ENEMY SOIL

  6. “LORD OF ALL ASIA”

  Artemis and Orion

  The Legend of Gordius

  7. THE BATTLE OF ISSUS

  8. THE SIEGE OF TYRE

  The Twelve Labours of Heracles

  The Ambrosial Rocks

  9. INTO EGYPT

  Osiris and Isis

  10. CROSSING THE TIGRIS

  11. THE BATTLE OF GAUGAMELA

  Alexander the Demon

  12. BABYLON

  Belshazzar’s Feast

  13. ON THE PERSIAN THRONE

  Gilgamesh, the Warrior who Didn’t Want to Die

  14. PERSEPOLIS

  15. THE DEATH OF DARIUS

  16. SAMARKAND

  Sohrab and Rostam

  17. IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF DIONYSUS

  18. INDIA

  The Hatred that Led to War

  19. TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH

  20. THE JOURNEY BACK

  21. THE RETURN TO PERSIA

  The Story of Daedalus and Icarus

  22. DEATH

  Alexander’s Hand

  EPILOGUE

  I belive that, in those times,

  no nation, no city, no single person

  was beyond the sound of Alexander’s name.

  Never, in all the world, has there been another like him.

  ARRIAN: THE CAMPAIGNS OF ALEXANDER

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE MAKING OF A HERO

  Come, come! Gather round and give ear to these tales of Alexander who set out to conquer the world, for they are replete with tears and heroism, defeats and victories, treachery and loyalty, love and passion. He brought terror to his enemies and glory to his followers.

  Like Heracles, Alexander was seen as a man in life, a god in death, a being apart, a hero standing between god and human, suffering everything that a man can suffer, testing himself to the limit, overcoming his enemies, enduring his labours in a ceaseless battle with death. He wandered over earth and oceans, experiencing great suffering, but his bravery triumphed, and his many daring exploits were beyond compare. Some said he was the bravest, some said he was the cleverest, some the wiliest, and some the handsomest. Many said that he was the most cruel, and the biggest vandal of all time, and called him Alexander the Damned. But others said he was Alexander the Great. The Greatest.

  He was a destroyer of enemies, a builder of cities; who crossed raging rivers and blazing deserts; who flew like an eagle and fought like a lion; who descended to the bottom of the seas in a glass chest to gaze upon a monstrous fish, and was carried high up into the heavens in a flying machine pulled by griffins so that he might map out the world; who encountered amazons and listened to trees with human voices; who fought the horse-riding archers of Bactria and Scythia, and the elephant armies of India.

  Give ear to these stories of Alexander, Iskander, Ishkander, Iskindar or Skander; who, on his mighty horse, Bucephalus, was feared by his enemies as the two-horned devil, but revered by his followers as son of Zeus, the greatest by far of the great men on earth.

  Who was this Alexander? Was he a myth, a god or a man?

  They say he was related to Achilles, to Helen of Troy, to Heracles, and a brother of the god Dionysus, and even that he was the son of Zeus; that his birth was miraculous – not of his human father, Philip, but of Zeus himself. It is said that the day Alexander was born, the temple to Artemis in Ephesus burnt to the ground – an omen prophesying that one day the whole of Asia would burn.

  Who can say? All we really know is that Alexander was born in 356 BC, that his mother was the wild, headstrong, scheming Queen Olympias, and his father King Philip II of Macedonia.

  Philip was a masterful king and warrior who routed the Greeks and, after the Battle of Chaeronea in 338 BC, became ruler of all the Greek territories including Athens. There was only one power greater than his: the Persian Empire of Cyrus, Xerxes and Darius.

  Alexander was always destined to be king; “But remember, my boy,” Philip told his son, “to be an emperor, you must also be a god.”

  Alexander thought a lot about God, and being a god – but above all, he was a boy who wanted to be a hero.

  Do you know what it takes to be a Greek hero? Let me list the qualities!

  A hero must be handsome.

  Alexander was handsome. Look at the statues, mosaics and reliefs if you don’t believe me. Alexander was as wonderfully handsome as the god Apollo. He was not tall, but he had a strong, muscular, athletic body, a noble head with long flowing locks, a broad brow, a straight nose and, most mesmerizing of all, some reported, one eye which was blue, the other black. It was said that even his breath and his body were as fragrant as lilies.

  A hero must be tough and fleet of foot.

  Just as well that he had a tough and strict disciplinarian for a teacher, Leonidas. Who among you could put up with the harsh regime Alexander endured? He was woken before dawn each day. Instead of breakfast, he had to walk for miles. When he returned, he had studies all day in literature, science and gymnastics, and finally got breakfast at dinner time. Leonidas even rummaged through Alexander’s belongings to make sure his mother hadn’t smuggled in any forbidden treats for him.

  A hero must be educated.

  Philip made sure his son was trained in all the skills of kingship, not just to be tough and skilled in warfare, but to be a ruler who could administer justice, be a leader of men and respect learning. Although Philip was Macedonian, it was Greek learning and culture which was valued above all, and was a necessity for any educated man. So there was no question that Alexander must be educated as a Greek. Alexander learned to admire the plays of Euripides and Aeschylus, he knew the histories of Herodotus, and he loved music and poetry. Most of all he loved Homer’s Iliad, written a thousand years before Alexander was born; the story about the war between the Greeks and the Trojans. Throughout his life, Alexander was never without a copy of the Iliad. He loved reading about the battles, the weapons, the stories of the gods and, above all, about the extraordinary god-hero, Achilles. For Alexander, Achilles was the hero of all heroes, the man he wanted to be.

  Achilles, son of Peleus, the swift-footed, the mightiest of warriors; as in the still hours of night Hesper goes forth among the host of stars, the fairest light of heaven, so brightly shone, brandished in his right hand, the spear’s keen blade.

  Achilles was part man, part mortal. He had been educated to the highest degree; instructed by Chiron, the centaur, and by Phoenix, King of the Dolopes, in the arts of warfare, literature and oratory.

  Achilles personified the hero, who preferred to die gloriously in battle, with a fearsome reputation that would live for ever, rather than withdraw to the safety of a quiet life, and die in his bed, unknown. This too, was Alexander’s ambition.

  The best teachers were summoned to educate the young prince. The great Aristotle taught him philosophy, biology, botany and political science, and gave him a deep interest in medicine. At an early age, he showed signs of being precociously clever, always asking questions about warfare, strategy and weapons. He loved music and theatre. He played the lyre. Once he asked his music teacher why it mattered what string he played. The teacher replied, “It doesn’t matter if you want to be a king, but it does matter if you want to be a musician.”

  A hero must be hospitable, compassionate, have respect for the gods and l
ove his mother.

  Alexander had all those qualities. He was respectful of women, and was especially close to his mother, Olympias. But she was so full of ambition, always scheming on behalf of her son, always meddling and watching over him, that once he grumbled, “For lodging nine months in your womb, I have had to pay a very high price.”

  A hero must fight, and know all the skills of warfare and self-defence.

  For Alexander, to be at war was to be in a state of grace. War was a way of life: “What nobler way to die, than in battle? What greater gift can you offer the gods than your life? Is it not a sure way to paradise? I tell you the gods care not that you fight, but how you fight.”

  A hero needs a horse.

  What kind of horse would our hero get for himself? A horse like the one which pulls the chariot of the moon goddess, Selene, with noble head, fanning tail and flaring nostrils? A horse like Pegasus – a mighty godlike horse, a dancing horse, a wild and untamed horse? Or a powerful war horse, many hands high, with sinews of iron and muscles like rope, that could carry the weight of armour?

  BUCEPHALUS

  This is how Alexander got his horse.

  One day a stallion was brought to King Philip, but when he went to view it, a scene of commotion met his eyes. It was a young, unbroken, black war horse, leaping and bucking and rearing out of control. A poor groom was trying desperately to bring it to order, and others, too, ran out to try. But none could calm the animal, let alone mount it.

  Philip was furious. He had paid a lot of money for the horse. “Send it back,” he ordered.

  Thirteen-year-old Alexander saw the fine head and powerful body, the flaring nostrils and pounding hooves, and he protested. “It’s a pity to send away such a fine horse, just because there’s no one with enough courage or skill to control it.”

  Philip was scornful of his boastful young son. “You have the impudence to criticize your elders. Are you telling me you could do any better?”

  “Certainly,” answered Alexander. “Let me show you.”

  “How will you pay for your rashness if you fail?” asked Philip.

  “I’ll pay for the horse,” declared Alexander.

  Then he took the leading rein, ducking the flying hooves and thrusting head, and pulled the horse round to face the other way. Murmuring soft words, he gradually quietened it enough to enable him to leap onto its bare back. The horse reared, bucked and twisted, doing everything it could to shake him off, but Alexander, with his thighs gripped tight, held his seat, loosening and tightening the rein by turns, and speaking to the animal with quiet words. At last the horse gave in and allowed Alexander to coax him into a trot, and then into a canter. Soon he was galloping round triumphantly in complete control.

  The grooms and onlookers were astounded. How had this mere boy done what they had failed to do?

  “Easy,” answered Alexander. “I realized that the horse was afraid of its own shadow, so I turned him round into the sun.”

  “Seems to me that you must find a bigger world to inhabit,” murmured his father wonderingly. “Macedonia will be too small to contain you.”

  The horse became Alexander’s. He called it Bucephalus which means ox, because the only bit of its body which wasn’t shining black was a white mark like an ox’s head on its forehead. The horse stayed with him for nearly twenty years, and carried him through his most famous battles. Bucephalus never let anyone other than Alexander ride him and, after he died in India, Alexander named a city after him: Bucephala.

  A hero must prove himself in battle.

  Ah, Alexander! Just a young child, but so impatient to learn how to lead and how to fight battles. Whenever generals came to the palace, he was always tagging along listening to their exploits, asking questions about their campaigns and conquests. He excelled at chess and was brilliant at tactics and strategies.

  Everyone was amazed that this young boy understood so much about warfare. He was already so brave, audacious and wise and capable of understanding the affairs of state that, by the time he was a teenager, his father, King Philip, sent him as an envoy to parts of his empire. On one occasion, Philip even left him in charge of the kingdom while he was away on a campaign.

  But Alexander wanted more. He wanted to fight; to experience the heat of battle. How else could he become a hero?

  So his father allowed him to lead his own campaign. An uprising broke out among the tribes of Thrace, and Alexander, aged only sixteen, was sent with a contingent of cavalry to put them down.

  Leading from the front, he took his troops into the fray, charging into battle on Bucephalus, not for vain glory, but to show he valued his life no more than that of the lowest of his soldiers. He never expected his men to do anything he himself wasn’t prepared to do. And so they loved him as a brother, and were prepared to follow him to the ends of the earth. With bravery, intelligence and quick-witted strategies, Alexander proved his military genius was equal to his father’s. He routed the enemy and, as if to proclaim it to the world, founded the first city to bear his name: Alexandropolis.

  The legend had begun.

  Wreathed is the bull; the end is near, the sacrificer is at hand.

  THE DEATH OF PHILIP

  There was conspiracy in the air; intrigue, rage, assassination. Alexander’s father, King Philip of Macedonia, leader of the Greeks, already had seven wives, and the politics and intrigue surrounding them were to bring him down. Marriage for the sake of maintaining power over conquered states was one thing, but to marry for love was quite another.

  Philip fell in love with a princess called Eurydice. Alexander’s mother, Olympias, was overcome with jealousy, and fury too, as any future son would be a threat to Alexander’s succession. There were heated rows, and Alexander even drew his sword on Philip, for which he and his mother were banished for a while.

  What relief then, when Eurydice gave birth to a daughter. But later, just before Philip was due to set off on another campaign, she had a second child – and this time, it was a boy.

  What would this mean to Alexander? Would his father prefer the new boy – born out of love – to him? Might Alexander no longer be favoured as his father’s heir? The ambitious Olympias grappled with her jealousy. And then came another blow. Philip arranged for their daughter, Cleopatra, to be married to Olympias’ brother, the King of Epirus. This would further alter the balance of power away from her, and possibly Alexander too.

  Philip wanted this to be the most lavish wedding ever; one that would make a statement about his wealth and power and his godlike status. Hundreds of guests from all over the empire were invited to his palace at Aigai. They came by horseback, carriage and sea to find elaborate arrangements had been made in the Greek style, with banquets, athletics, drama, music and recitations. The culmination was to be a grand procession.

  The sky was still black and glistening with stars when the guests, who had been asked to be seated by dawn, made their way to the outdoor theatre.

  Everything was ready. The finest craftsmen had worked on huge images of twelve Greek gods, which included an image of Philip himself, which were to be paraded round the arena.

  The sun was now up, the sky blue, the procession about to begin. Philip approached the entrance to the arena flanked on either side by Alexander and his son-in-law, the King of Epirus. Suddenly, a young bodyguard named Pausanias secretly drew from its sheath a Celtic dagger, sharp, silver and double-edged, with dragons ornamenting the hilt, and, as Philip passed by, he leaped forward and plunged it deep between his ribs.

  Philip lay dying. In the horror and confusion, Pausanias escaped. Three noblemen set off in hot pursuit. It seemed the assassination had been planned, for there were horses and helpers waiting for him at the town gates. But just as Pausanias came in sight of them, he caught his foot in a vine, tripped and fell. His pursuers were on him like a pack of hounds.

  It isn’t known if Pausanias was mercifully killed on the spot, or whether he was taken back to the city to be executed in the
Greek way – clamped to a wooden board and left to starve to death in public.

  Who was behind the crime? Who was the instigator of this murder? Was it Olympias, Alexander’s mother, always scheming and interfering? Was it Alexander, afraid his inheritance would be taken from him by his new half-brother? Was it an order from Athens, where the Greeks still burned with indignation, having been beaten at the battle of Chaeronea by Philip? Did the Athenians and the Persians collude, both having reason to fear the Macedonian Philip? Or was it paid for by Persian gold given by Darius to Demosthenes, the democratic leader of Athens, who loathed being under the yoke of a Macedonian?

  Rumours abounded, but whatever the truth, Alexander was instantly pronounced King of Macedonia and all the Greek territories.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ALEXANDER, THE EMPEROR

  The year is 336 BC and Alexander is only twenty years old. And yes, he has become ruler over the Greek empire, and inherited everything from the Danube and the Dalmatian coast, to Greece and the islands of the Aegean. Following in the footsteps of such a powerful father as Philip, can he establish his leadership and authority? Can he reinforce his control over the Greek city states who, all too often, break up into factions and fight among themselves? True, his military expertise is famous, as are his powers of diplomacy, but don’t forget, Alexander is a Macedonian, not a Greek. Has he the ability and skills to retain the loyalty of all his subjects: the Thracians, Illyrians, Paeonians and Thessalians … and above all, the proud Athenians?

  As soon as it was heard that Philip was dead, there were uprisings across the empire from Thrace to Greece. Alexander had powerful enemies in Athens, not least Demosthenes. The Greeks were trying to re-establish their rule. He had to act swiftly. It was no good simply quelling an uprising by force; that way empires were quickly won but just as quickly lost, so he combined brutal force with democratic participation in an effort to bring stability back to the empire his father had created. When he heard that there were uprisings among the Balkan tribes far away to the north, he took an army all the way to the Danube to establish his northern borders, quelling Thracians and Triballians among the thick hostile forests and rivers.