Alexander The Great And Darius
In the citadel of Gordium, an ancient town of Phrygia in Asia Minor, was
preserved an old wagon, rudely built, and very primitive in structure.
Tradition said that it had originally belonged to the peasant Gordius
and his son Midas, rustic chiefs who had been selected by the gods and
chosen by the people as the primitive kings of Phrygia. The cord which
attached the yoke of this wagon to the pole, composed of fibres from the
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bark of the cornel tree, was tied into a knot so twisted and entangled
that it seemed as if the fingers of the gods themselves must have tied
it, so intricate was it and so impossible, seemingly, to untie.
An oracle had declared that the man who should untie this famous knot
would become lord and monarch of all Asia. As may well be imagined, many
ambitious men sought to perform the task, but all in vain. The Gordian
knot remained tied and Asia unconquered in the year 333 B.C., when
Alexander of Macedon, who the year before had invaded Asia, and so far
had swept all before him, entered Gordium with his victorious army. As
may be surmised, it was not long before he sought the citadel to view
this ancient relic, which contained within itself the promise of what he
had set out to accomplish. Numbers followed him, Phrygians and
Macedonians, curious to see if the subtle knot would yield to his
conquering hand, the Macedonians with hope, the Phrygians with doubt.
While the multitude stood in silent and curious expectation, Alexander
closely examined the knot, looking in vain for some beginning or end to
its complexity. The thing perplexed him. Was he who had never yet failed
in any undertaking to be baffled by this piece of rope, this twisted
obstacle in the way of success? At length, with that angry impatience
which was a leading element in his character, he drew his sword, and
with one vigorous stroke severed the cord in two.
At once a shout went up. The problem was solved; the knot was severed;
the genius of Alexander had led him to the only means. He had made good
his title to the empire of Asia, and was hailed as predestined conqueror
by his admiring followers. That night came a storm of thunder and
lightning which confirmed the belief, the superstitious Macedonians
taking it as the testimony of the gods that the oracle was fulfilled.
Had there been no Gordian knot and no oracle, Alexander would probably
have become lord of the empire of Asia all the same, and this not only
because he was the best general of his time and one of the best generals
of all time, but for two other excellent reasons. One was that his
father, Philip, had bequeathed to him the best army of the age. The
Greeks had proved, nearly two centuries before, that their military
organization and skill were far superior to those of the Persians.
During the interval there had been no progress in the army of Persia,
while Epaminondas had greatly improved the military art in Greece, and
Philip of Macedon, his pupil, had made of the Macedonian army a fighting
machine such as the world had never before known. This was the army
which, with still further improvements, Alexander was leading into Asia
to meet the multitudinous but poorly armed and disciplined Persian host.
The second reason was that Alexander, while the best captain of his age,
had opposed to him the worst. It was the misfortune of Persia that a new
king, Darius Codomannus by name, had just come to the throne, and was to
prove himself utterly incapable of leading an army, unless it was to
lead it in flight. It was not only Alexander's great ability, but his
marvellous good fortune, which led to his immense success.
The Persians had had a good general in Asia Minor,--Memnon, a Greek of
the island of Rhodes. But just at this time this able leader died, and
Darius took the command on himself. He could hardly have selected a man
from his ranks who would not have made a better commander-in-chief.
Gathering a vast army from his wide-spread dominions, a host six hundred
thousand strong, the Persian king marched to meet his foe. He brought
with him an enormous weight of baggage, there being enough gold and
silver alone to load six hundred mules and three hundred camels; and so
confident was he of success that he also brought his mother, wife, and
children, and his whole harem, that they might witness his triumph over
the insolent Macedonian.
Darius took no steps to guard any of the passes of Asia Minor. Why
should he seek to keep back this foe, who was marching blindly to his
fate? But instead of waiting for Alexander on the plain, where he could
have made use of his vast force, he marched into the defile of Issus,
where there was only a mile and a half of open ground between the
mountains and the sea, and where his vanguard alone could be brought
into action. In this defile the two armies met, the fighting part of
each being, through the folly of the Persian king, not greatly different
in numbers.
The blunder of Darius was soon made fatal by his abject cowardice. The
Macedonians having made a sudden assault on the Persian left wing, it
gave way and fled. Darius, who was in his chariot in the centre, seeing
himself in danger from this flight, suddenly lost his over-confidence,
and in a panic of terror turned his chariot and fled with wild haste
from the field. When he reached ground over which the chariot could not
pass, he mounted hastily on horseback, flung from him his bow, shield,
and royal mantle, and rode in mortal terror away, not having given a
single order or made the slightest effort to rally his flying troops.
Darius had been sole commander. His flight left the great army without a
leader. Not a man remained who could give a general order. Those who saw
him flying were infected with his terror and turned to flee also. The
vast host in the rear trampled one another down in their wild haste to
get beyond the enemy's reach. The Macedonians must have looked on in
amazement. The battle--or what ought to have been a battle--was over
before it had fairly begun. The Persian right wing, in which was a body
of Greeks, made a hard fight; but these Greeks, on finding that the king
had fled, marched in good order away. The Persian cavalry, also, fought
bravely until they heard that the king had disappeared, when they also
turned to fly. Never had so great a host been so quickly routed, and all
through the cowardice of a man who was better fitted by nature to turn a
spit than to command an army.
But Alexander was not the man to let his enemy escape unscathed. His
pursuit was vigorous. The slaughter of the fugitives was frightful.
Thousands were trodden to death in the narrow and broken pass. The camp
and the family of Darius were taken, together with a great treasure in
coin. The slain in all numbered more than one hundred thousand.
The panic flight of Darius and his utter lack of ability did more than
lose him a battle: it lost him an empire. Never was there a battle with
more complete and great results. During the next two years Alexander
went to work to conquer western Persia. Most of the cities yielded to
him. Tyre resisted, and was taken and destroyed. Gaza, another strong
city, was captured and its defenders slain. These two cities, which it
took nine months to capture, gave Alexander the hardest fighting he
ever had. He marched from Gaza to Egypt, which fell without resistance
into his hands, and where he built the great city of Alexandria, the
only existing memento of his name and deeds. Thence he marched to the
Euphrates, wondering where Darius was and what he meant to do. Nearly
two years had passed since the battle of Issus, and the kingly poltroon
had apparently contented himself with writing letters begging Alexander
to restore his family. But Alexander knew too well what a treasure he
held to consent. If Darius would acknowledge him as his lord and master
he could have back his wife and children, but not otherwise.
Finding that all this was useless, Darius began to collect another army.
He now got together a vaster host than before. It was said to contain
one million infantry, forty thousand cavalry, and two hundred chariots,
each of which had a projecting pole with a sharp point, while three
sword-blades stood out from the yoke on either side, and scythes
projected from the naves of the wheels. Darius probably expected to mow
down the Macedonians in swaths with these formidable implements of war.
The army which Alexander marched against this mighty host consisted of
forty thousand foot and seven thousand horse. It looked like the extreme
of foolhardiness, like a pigmy advancing against a giant; yet Darius
commanded one army, Alexander the other, and Issus had not been
forgotten.
The affair, in fact, proved but a repetition of that at Issus. The
chariots, on which Darius had counted to break the enemy's line, proved
useless. Some of the horses were killed; others refused to face the
Macedonian pikes; some were scared by the noise and turned back; the few
that reached the Greek lines found the ranks opened to let them pass.
The chariots thus disposed of, the whole Macedonian line charged.
Alexander, at the head of his cavalry, pushed straight for the person of
Darius. He could not get near the king, who was well protected, but he
got near enough to fill his dastard soul with terror. The sight of the
serried ranks of the Macedonian phalanx, the terrific noise of their
war-cries, the failure of the chariots, all combined to destroy his late
confidence and replace it by dread. As at Issus, he suddenly had his
chariot turned round and rushed from the field in full flight.
His attendants followed. The troops around him, the best in the army,
gave way. Soon the field was dense with fugitives. So thick was the
cloud of dust raised by the flying multitude that nothing could be seen.
Amid the darkness were heard a wild clamor of voices and the noise of
the whips of the charioteers as they urged their horses to speed. The
cloud of dust alone saved Darius from capture by the pursuing horsemen.
The left of the Persian army fought bravely, but at length it too gave
way. Everything was captured,--camp, treasure, the king's equipage,
everything but the king himself. How many were killed and taken is not
known, but the army, as an army, ceased to exist. As at Issus, so at
Arbela, it was so miserably managed that three-fourths of it had nothing
whatever to do with the battle. Its dispersal ended the Persian
resistance; the empire was surrendered to Alexander almost without
another blow.
Great a soldier as Alexander unquestionably was, he was remarkably
favored by fortune, and won the greatest empire the world had up to that
time known with hardly an effort, and with less loss of men than often
takes place in a single battle. The treasure gained was immense. Darius
seemed to have been heaping up wealth for his conqueror. Babylon and
Susa, the two great capitals of the Persian empire, contained vast
accumulations of money, part of which was used to enrich the soldiers of
the victorious army. At Persepolis, the capital of ancient Persia, a
still greater treasure was found, amounting to one hundred and twenty
thousand talents in gold and silver, or about one hundred and
twenty-five million dollars. It took five thousand camels and a host of
mules to transport the treasure away. The cruel conqueror rewarded the
Persians for this immense gift, kept through generations for his hands,
by burning the city and slaughtering its inhabitants, in revenge, as he
declared, for the harm which Xerxes had done to Greece a century and a
half before.
What followed must be told in a few words. The conqueror did not feel
that his work was finished while Darius remained free. The dethroned
king was flying eastward to Bactria. Alexander pursued him with such
speed that many of his men and animals fell dead on the road. He
overtook him at last, but did not capture him, as the companions of the
Persian king killed him and left only his dead body to the victor's
hands.
For years afterwards Alexander was occupied in war, subduing the eastern
part of the empire, and marching into India, where he conquered all
before him. War, incessant war, was all he cared for. No tribe or nation
he met was able to stand against his army. In all his career he never
met a reverse in the field. He was as daring as Darius had been
cowardly, exposed his life freely, and was more than once seriously
wounded, but recovered quickly from his hurts.
At length, after eleven years of almost incessant war, the conqueror
returned to Babylon, and here, while preparing for new wars in Arabia
and elsewhere, indulged with reckless freedom in that intoxication which
was his principal form of relaxation from warlike schemes and duties. As
a result he was seized with fever, and in a week's time died, just at
the time he had fixed to set out with army and fleet on another great
career of conquest. It was in June, 323 B.C., in his thirty-third year.
He had reigned only twelve years and eight months.