Alexander the Great Read online

  As a Macedonian, he would never be truly accepted by the Greeks. Even though his whole education and philosophical thinking had been shaped by Aristotle, Plato, Socrates and the great Greek dramatists, to the Athenians he would always be an outsider. But he found a spiritual home in Egypt.

  Alexander’s mother had told him he was the son of Zeus. Perhaps here in Egypt he could find out if that was really true. He had so many inner questions. Were there answers to these questions?

  He had heard of the oasis at Siwa, where there was an oracle dedicated to Ammon. It was three hundred miles across an expanse of desolate and uninhabited desert on the borders between Egypt and Libya. Hardly anyone went there – it was too far into a pitiless desert, and anyway, no one else thought it important.

  Who can guess why Alexander was gripped with such a longing to visit this shrine? According to legend, Perseus and Heracles were supposed to have consulted the oracle at Siwa. Did Alexander want to link himself with these heroic gods and heroes?

  It must have been a deeply profound craving that sent Alexander on this long seventeen-day trek into the desert. Even though news was coming in that Darius was once again mobilizing his troops, he said he must go to the Oracle. Risking everything, including his life, he set off for the oasis of Siwa. The journey itself became a myth.

  THE ORACLE AT SIWA

  A southerly wind buried the track across the desert; it was as desolate as the open sea, with no mark, tree, hill or track to show them the way. The guides were bewildered and lost their bearings, and Alexander and his men were in danger of going dangerously astray. Suddenly, two hissing snakes appeared before them. With nothing to lose, Alexander said, “Follow them.” The snakes led them all the way to the Oracle.

  Siwa is a miracle, surrounded as it is on all sides by waterless barren desert. It is a small oasis of fruit trees and olive trees, where large crystals of mineral salt can be gathered, where dew falls, and where the temple stands at the source of a spring running with sweet water.

  As Alexander approached the temple, a priest came out and hailed him as Pharaoh, son of Zeus Ammon. Alexander entered the temple alone. He said he had a question to ask the Oracle, but told no one what that question was, and when he came out of the temple, no one knew what he had been told.

  Did he ask, “Am I the son of Ammon?”

  Did the Oracle reply, “Yes”?

  No one knows. Alexander said only that he had received the answer his soul desired, and it was clear that he had undergone a mystical experience which, from that day on, affected his life to the end.

  CHAPTER TEN

  CROSSING THE TIGRIS

  Now, with confidence, Alexander claimed to be the successor and son of Zeus and disowned his father Philip. Coins were minted depicting him with ram’s horns which are the symbol of Ammon. But for the early Persians, these were the horns of the devil. They called him Iskander Dhulkarnein, Alexander the Two-Horned, Alexander The Damned.

  Since Alexander had crossed the Hellespont three years previously, to defeat the Persians and conquer Asia, he had not just been pounding from one battle to the next. In between, there was the day to day need to administrate his newly conquered lands. He spent a year in Egypt after his visit to the oasis at Siwa.

  But though Alexander felt that Egypt was his spiritual home, he knew he must leave if he was to fulfil his goal of overcoming Darius. The ancient city of Babylon must be the next prize.

  As for Darius, he had, in the meantime, been reassembling his forces. Alexander had to be stopped. It was unthinkable that he should conquer Babylon which was at the heart of Darius’ commercial empire. If he took Babylon, next would be Persia itself – and the glorious palaces of Susa and Persepolis.

  Desperately, Darius went to every corner of his empire to raise his army; horsemen from Bactria, mounted archers from Scythia, elephant-mounted troops from India. There were Arachosians, Arians, Parthians, Babylonians, Armenians, Syrians and Cappadocians as well as Greek mercenaries. He had 40,000 cavalry, 100,000 infantry and 200 horse-drawn scythed chariots with iron-pointed spears protruding in front, three-sword blades on either side of the yokes, javelin points stuck outwards from the wheels, and scythe blades fixed to the rims of the wheels, which mowed down everything they passed.

  Then he let Alexander know that he was ready for battle.

  Alexander had returned to Tyre, and stationed himself there, dealing with administrative matters, trying to consolidate the cities and towns already conquered. However, when the call to battle came, although the summer heat was still intense, Alexander had to respond, or lose all he had gained. With his far smaller army of only 47,000, he set off across the burning desert wastes into Mesopotamia.

  There were stories about how they got hopelessly lost, and began to fear they would die of thirst, when two crows came to their rescue, cawing to round up stragglers, and flying ahead until they were back on track again.

  This made Alexander and his men feel that the gods were on their side, for of all living creatures, birds were especially respected because they could fly higher than any other living thing, and so were the link between men on the ground and the gods in their heavens. Birds had special powers, and were messengers, portents and bringers of good and evil. They carried gods and heroes on their backs.

  There were many stories about Alexander and birds: how he ascended into the sky on the back of an eagle, so that he could see what the whole world looked like. How, from on high, he saw the length and breadth of the earth, and understood that to conquer Asia, he must cross many mountains, rivers and seas.

  They said he flew to the very heights of heaven and explored them too, then descended into the Country of Darkness where he fed and tamed giant birds – even larger than eagles; that he ordered four of his soldiers to mount these giant birds, which carried them off to the “Land of the Living”. When the soldiers returned, they told Alexander about everything they had seen.

  Heading now for Babylon, he would have examined all the omens, consulted his seers and fervently performed all his religious duties as, yet again, he braced himself for another encounter with Darius.

  Darius had two strong generals, Mazaeus and Bessus. After losing the whole of Asia Minor and Egypt to the young Macedonian, and especially after the humiliating defeat they had incurred at Issus, they wanted a watertight plan of action. They decided to lure Alexander to a battlefield of their choosing, where they would be fully prepared finally to put an end to his ambitions.

  There were really only two ways to approach Babylon and Darius wanted to defend both of them – but if possible to force Alexander to take the longer and more difficult route. Whichever way he went, both routes would eventually lead Alexander and his men to a plain in Gaugamela.

  With Babylon as the next major goal, Darius knew that Alexander would head for the River Euphrates, and the main crossing point at the town of Thapsacus. There he would be faced with a choice: either to cross the Euphrates and head southwards along the river directly for Babylon, or to turn left along the Euphrates, then leaving it behind, to march north eastwards across the barren unfriendly wastes of the Mesopotamian plain to the River Tigris beyond. Then he would have to cross this far more dangerous river before turning southwards towards Babylon.

  All things being equal, Darius was sure Alexander would want the quickest route down the fertile banks of the Euphrates to Babylon. In anticipation of him choosing this option, Darius’s general, Mazaeus, planned to carry out a scorched earth policy, so that when Alexander arrived at Thapsacus, he would be forced to take the northerly route.

  Alexander arrived on the banks of the River Euphrates. His engineers had already gone on ahead and built a pontoon bridge for the crossing. Strangely, they were unopposed, apart from a few skirmishes, and taunts thrown at each other across the river. Instead of attacking, Mazaeus disappeared with his men down the south-easterly banks of the Euphrates, burning and destroying all possible food sources for Alexander’s army.

>   So far, the Persian plan was working. Alexander didn’t take the scorched earth route, and to cross the wasteland directly ahead was unthinkable. So, after crossing the Euphrates, he turned away northwards towards the cooler, more fertile land beneath the Armenian mountains, heading towards the upper ground between the Euphrates and the Tigris. He took five weeks. The army had food and supplies, and the scorching heat was less intense as they made their way to the rushing Tigris River.

  Darius could have been lying in wait there too. The river was fierce and dangerous and would be difficult to cross. But even though spies had told Alexander that the Persian army was nearby, and he was expecting trouble, when they arrived, there was no Great King, no huge army, and Alexander crossed virtually unopposed.

  Was it the Great King’s incompetence or was it over confidence? After all, he too felt godlike; he too was an Appointed One, the god of the Persians, Ahura Mazda. Darius may have felt that a battle here was too small, and that he must fight Alexander on a bigger scale. He would want to win a major and more decisive battle for all to see, where he could wash away the memory of his earlier defeats, and especially his flight from the field at Issus.

  So, on 19 September 331 BC, Alexander’s men crossed the treacherous Tigris River and camped.

  CROSSING THE TIGRIS

  They were deep in enemy territory. Fear permeated the ranks. The terror was increased almost to breaking point when, on the night of 20 September there was a total eclipse of the moon. Surely the gods were angry? Eclipses were always a sign of the gods’ displeasure.

  Alexander made elaborate sacrifices to the Sun, Moon and Earth. The hills and valleys glowed with sacrificial fires, and rang with the sounds of clashing cymbals, beating drums and the voices of singers. His seer, Aristander, reassured the men that these ceremonies had pleased the gods. The failure of the moon to appear, he told them, meant that the power of the Persians would be eclipsed, and the battle would be fought before the month was out.

  The panicky troops were comforted. The next day, still not pressing his men hard, Alexander led them at a gentle pace, until they picked up the Royal Road to Babylon.

  What Alexander didn’t know then was that Darius had selected a battleground about 76 miles away to the south. The Great King didn’t want to make the same mistake as he had at Issus, where he had abandoned the wide plain. This time the Persian armies converged on open land at Gaugamela, near the river Bumodus, and there Darius was already preparing the rough ground, levelling it off to make it easier for his war chariots.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE BATTLE OF GAUGAMELA

  It is 25 September. Scouts have reported seeing Persian troops only seven miles away. Alexander pauses and sets up a base camp for all the camp followers – which also include Darius’ family: his wife, his mother-in-law and his children. He dallies, to give himself time to think, and to keep the enemy guessing; keep them nervously on their toes till they lose their high peak of concentration. As usual, he is intently focused, making sure that his troops have checked their equipment and groomed their horses.

  Four days later, Alexander amassed his troops and set off through the night, meaning to attack at daybreak. Four miles from the battleground, they reached a ridge and looked down on the plain, glimmering with thousands of enemy campfires. It was a shock, even for Alexander. Where Darius had an army of at least 245,000, he had only about 47,000.

  The Persians were an awesome sight. Alexander’s troops were terror-stricken and on the edge of panic. He knew he had lost the element of surprise for the moment and drew back, forcing his men to lay down their arms and rest easy. Then he undertook a series of rituals, prayer and oblations.

  A terrible sense of foreboding and despair hung over the troops; a disbelief that even Alexander could overcome such forces.

  Only something extraordinary could help them. For the first, and only, time in his whole life, Alexander sacrificed a human victim. Perhaps he felt it was the only act that could placate and soothe his frightened soldiers, and put courage back into the hearts of his men, many of whom came from different faiths and nationalities.

  Perhaps he thought back to Homer’s Troy, to those Greek heroes, Odysseus, Ajax and his beloved Achilles, and to how, before they set sail against the Trojans, King Agamemnon sacrificed his own daughter, Iphigenia, to Poseidon, beseeching him to lead them to victory.

  The next day, showing that he had not lost his nerve, Alexander calmly went on a detailed reconnaissance. With a group of Companions, he examined the whole area. Darius’ troops were already in battle formation, forewarned by his spies that Alexander was near.

  The Persians saw him going round, making minute notes of where they had set stakes and snares designed to tear into his cavalry, and where they had levelled the ground. But they did nothing. This must be a battle won openly and decisively.

  Alexander returned to his fearful troops to restore their confidence.

  It was one of the great speeches of his life.

  “I don’t need to remind you of your duty!” he said. “Remember all our past battles, our victories, our acts of heroism. I don’t need to beg you to be brave, you are already brave. All I ask is that every single one of you, no matter what your rank, whether you are a commander of a company, a squadron, a brigade, or a lowly infantryman, must be responsible for absolute discipline. Orders must be obeyed instantly in this hour of danger; advance when ordered, maintain utter silence when needed, and wait for the moment to give the battle-cry, when you can put the fear of god into the hearts of the enemy. On the conduct of each one of you depends the fate of us all. If any one of you neglects your duty, the whole army will fall, but if each man plays his part, we will win.”

  His senior general, Parmenion, and all the other generals, advised Alexander to attack the Persians by night, but Alexander retorted, “Alexander does not steal his victories like a thief.”

  This was not just a stubborn quip. Alexander already knew that it would be dangerous for his troops to attack by night – for the most dangerous risk in battle was confusion. Perhaps he also knew that this battle above all would represent the decisive moment when he could finally rout Darius, and take possession of the Persian Empire – and this he wanted to do in full daylight, for all to see. So he dismissed his generals, telling them they would go into attack at dawn.

  He ordered that the men be well fed, then he sent them to bed for a good night’s rest.

  But Alexander didn’t go to bed. Because of his detailed reconnaissance, he knew exactly what Darius’ battle plan would be. He sat up long into the night plotting his strategies and working out his course of action.

  The dawn of 1 October broke. The camp stirred. The generals prepared their men. But Alexander slept. The sun rose higher – and still he slept. The officers went to his tent to wake him, and found him sleeping like a babe. They were amazed. “How can you sleep as if the battle were already won?” they cried.

  “Do you think this battle is not already won,” smiled Alexander, “now that we have been spared having to chase Darius, who burns his earth and fights by retreating?”

  He dressed for battle. He is described as wearing a shirt woven in Sicily. His breastplate was a double thickness of linen, taken as spoil at Issus. His iron helmet made by the silversmith, Theophilis, gleamed like pure silver, while his neck-piece iron, made of iron and studded with precious stones, fitted him closely. His sword was amazingly light and well-tempered, a present from a Cypriot king, and he also sported a cloak, more elaborately worked than the rest of his armour. It had been dyed by Helicon, the famous weaver of Cyprus, and given to him by the city of Rhodes.

  Mounted on his beloved horse, Bucephalus, he toured his troops, rousing them to battle with calls to the gods, reminding them of his own special kinship with Zeus Ammon. To emphasize the link, his seer, Aristander, pointed out an eagle flying high overhead – a symbol of Zeus – an omen that god was on their side.

  At last, towards midday, Ale
xander finally led his men – all 47,000 of them – down towards the battlefield to face the overwhelming might of Darius’ army.

  Down they moved to the beating of drums and blowing of horns, down towards the dusty plain. When they were about a mile away, Alexander ordered the trumpet to signal the advance.

  THE BATTLE OF GAUGAMELA

  Darius was positioned at the outer edge of his centre formation, seated in his royal chariot, flanked by his kinsmen, the royal Persian bodyguard – his 10,000 Immortals – with golden apples on their spear-butts, as well as Indian and Mardian warriors. On his left was the Bactrian cavalry, the Persian cavalry and infantry, then Susian and Afghan contingents. In advance of the left wing was the Scythian cavalry, 100 scythed chariots, 30 war elephants and 50 war chariots, as well as 1,000 Bactrians. To his right were troops from Syria, Mesopotamia and Medes; further along, Parthians, Sacae, Tarpurians and Hycanians, and near the centre, Albanians and Sacesinians. In advance of the right wing were a further 50 scythed chariots, the Armenian and Cappadocian cavalry and Greek mercenaries. His generals were Barsentes, Nabarzanes, Mazaeus and Bessus.

  The main danger to Alexander was of being encircled by the enemy. With such overwhelming troops, the Persians would be expecting to surround his far fewer forces and annihilate them.

  The battle was about to begin; the first orders shouted out to the sound of trumpets and drums. Once again, Alexander and Darius came face to face, each plainly visible to the other. Darius’ scythed chariots made the first move and galloped forward into Alexander’s front line.

  Alexander ordered his Companions to follow him and, with their spine-chilling battle cry, “Aiaya! Aiaya! Aiaya!”, went cantering to the right, in the famous oblique line which his father Philip had taught him to use to such effect, while his general, Parmenion, and the rest held back to the left.