From near Lampsacus, Alexander moved his forces two days’ march east to the town of Hermoton, then on to the small town of Priapus, named for an unusually lustful son of the god Dionysus. Scouts reported to Alexander that the citizens of Priapus were willing to surrender the town to him, allowing the grateful king his first opportunity to liberate a Greek city, however insignificant it might be.
But as pleased as Alexander was finally to portray himself in dispatches back across the Aegean as a liberator of the Greeks, his overriding concern was more practical—where were the Persians? At that moment, they were much closer than he realized. The Persian governors and generals of Asia Minor were encamped only twenty miles away across the Granicus River at the town of Zeleia. With them were thousands of troops, including cavalry from distant Bactria and thousands of Greek mercenaries. While the Macedonian army moved toward the Granicus, the Persians were holding a council of war to decide what to do about Alexander.
Arsites, the satrap of the Hellespont region, presided at the meeting along with Spithridates, who ruled over nearby Lydia and the Greek cities of the Aegean coast. The satrap Arsames was there as well from Cilicia on the southern seaboard of Asia Minor. These leaders and their generals were all pledged to defend the realm of the Great King with their lives. And if honor were not enough motivation, they knew their wealth was derived from the land they held in the areas under their governance. If Alexander won, they would lose everything.
Also present was Memnon of Rhodes, perhaps the best general in the Persian army. He had defeated the advance forces under Parmenion the year before and driven them back to the Hellespont to wait for their king. When it was at last his turn to voice his opinion at the council, he rose and declared that the best way to defeat the Macedonians was to destroy all the crops in the region, empty the towns, and launch an expedition to take the war to Macedonia itself. With no fodder for his horses or food for his men, Alexander would be forced to withdraw from Asia in defeat to defend his own home. In addition, Memnon warned, the Macedonian infantry was far superior in skill if not numbers to its Persian counterparts. If the foot soldiers of Macedonia with their long sarissa spears came up against the Persians, the troops of the Great King would lose. As the Greek general surely reminded them, he had spent time in exile at the court of Philip and knew firsthand the power of the Macedonian army.
Memnon’s advice was sound and, if taken, would have almost guaranteed that the world would never have heard of Alexander the Great—but the Persian leaders would have none of it. Who did Memnon think he was to advise the noblemen of the Persian Empire to turn and run from an untried boy-king who had invaded their land? They would never allow their own fields and houses to be burned before the Macedonian army as if they were peasants shaking in their boots. They suspected that Memnon wanted to delay the war so that the Great King, who favored him, would appoint him as commander in their place. There must have been questions as well about why Alexander had ordered his men not to harm Memnon’s estates. But in the end it was their sense of honor and dignity that would not allow them to take Memnon’s counsel seriously. They were warriors from the highlands of Persia, the heirs of Cyrus, conquerors of the world—and they would fight.
The Granicus River rises in the mountains beyond Troy and flows north across the coastal plain into the sea. It is a small river fed by spring rains, but its banks are steep and difficult to climb. Here at this ancient crossroads on a late afternoon in May, Alexander finally saw the Persians. His scouts reported their cavalry was drawn up on the far bank with their infantry behind, an unusual positioning of forces but effective given the situation. If Alexander’s men engaged the Persian army here, they would have to cross the river unprotected, then struggle up the far banks as the mounted soldiers of the enemy struck at them from higher ground. The deadly sarissa formation of the Macedonians would be useless as they tried to climb from the riverbed to the open ground beyond. The Persians had deliberately chosen a field of battle that would yield nothing to the strength of the Macedonian infantry but would instead give themselves every advantage. They had set a trap for Alexander and were daring him to walk into it.
Alexander surveyed the situation with his keen eye for terrain and could not help but appreciate the Persian plan. A more cautious general might have sought a better location to cross the river or withdrawn south along the Aegean coast. But Alexander prided himself on his swiftness and daring—which was, of course, exactly what the Persians were counting on. They were betting the brash young king could not resist the bait.
As with the siege at Thebes, we have two versions of what happened next. One tradition from the historian Diodorus says that Alexander made camp for the night and prepared for an assault the next morning. But the other, from Arrian, says that he drew up his troops facing the river even though there were only a few hours of daylight left. In the latter version, old general Parmenion urged Alexander to remain on the near side of the river until the next day, when the army could be organized more effectively for what would be a grueling fight. A military setback at this point of the campaign, he warned, would be a disaster. In this account Alexander dismissed the general’s hesitation and said he would be ashamed if, after crossing the wide Hellespont, he were stopped by a petty stream. A delay, he declared, would only make the Persians think he was afraid of them. Arrian describes a similar dialogue between Parmenion and Alexander four other times during the expedition, always on the eve of battle, so that the reader begins to suspect that the veteran commander is being used as a foil to highlight Alexander’s boldness. But whether the Macedonians made camp or began the attack that evening makes little difference. Alexander had decided to fight the Persians there at the Granicus and risk everything on a single roll of the dice.
Facing thousands of Persian cavalry and at least an equal number of infantry across the river, Alexander arranged his troops in a standard battlefield formation with horsemen on the wings and foot soldiers in the center. He placed Parmenion in command of the Thracian and Thessalian cavalry on the left, while he himself mounted one of his battle horses and rode to the right. Philotas and his cavalry units were stationed near him with the archers and wild Agrianian spearmen from Thrace. Among the many other officers in the line were Nicanor, another son of Parmenion; Craterus, who would become one of Alexander’s most trusted commanders; and Black Cleitus, friend of his father, Philip, and brother of his childhood nurse. The king of Macedonia himself was unmistakable in his splendid armor as he walked beside his horse among the men, cajoling and encouraging them. The Persians had spotted Alexander as well and moved their best cavalry squadrons opposite to strike him down.
After both sides were set, they stood facing each other unmoving and in silence for several long minutes as if taking a deep breath before the battle began. Neither side wanted to be the first to move, but finally Alexander jumped up on his horse and moved the right wing forward into the river with the sounding of trumpets and a mighty cry to Ares, god of war.
Alexander flew across the river and up the banks so fast that the Persian horsemen couldn’t hit him, but many of his companions were pinned down in the water as arrows rained on them from above. Parmenion moved in from the left and the infantry pushed forward into the Granicus, holding their long spears as best they could. The Macedonian strategy was to outflank the Persian cavalry using its two wings, but plans soon gave way to bloody chaos as horses and men on both sides became so tightly packed they were barely able to move. The first Macedonians to reach the Persians on the far side of the river were badly outnumbered and cut down. Memnon and his grown sons were at the forefront of the Persian lines slaughtering as many of Alexander’s men as they could reach. As more men climbed over bodies to the opposite side, they put up a ferocious fight surrounded by Persian cavalry, who stabbed them with javelins. Alexander saw what was happening and in a frenzy led his closest men into the thick of battle. Gradually the Macedonians gained a foothold on the far side of the river as Alexa
nder’s cavalry used their lances from horseback against the shorter javelins of the Persians.
A fierce struggle raged around Alexander as the Persians tried to kill him and end the war with one blow. The king’s lance was broken in the fight, but when he called on his groomsman for another he was told the young man’s lance had snapped in two. Surrounded and unarmed, his old companion Demaratus of Corinth, veteran of wars in distant Sicily and the man who some say years earlier had bought Bucephalas for the brash prince, rushed forward and gave him his own weapon. Alexander took courage from his friend and rushed back into the fray, charging a Persian noble named Mithridates and stabbing him in the face. The death of this son-in-law of the Great King distracted Alexander from the approach of another Persian nobleman, Rhoesaces, who rode at the king and struck him so hard on his head with his sword that his helmet split in two. The king was stunned by the blow, but managed to knock Rhoesaces onto the ground and skewer him with his lance. Even as he struck, the satrap Spithridates now charged Alexander from behind and raised his sword to strike a death blow when suddenly Black Cleitus threw himself at the Persian lord and cut off his arm cleanly at the shoulder. Alexander may have been frustrated at the number of Philip’s old officers in his ranks, but he owed his life that day to the courage and skill of Cleitus.
In every battle there is a turning point when both sides realize by unspoken consent that one will be the victor and the other lucky to escape with their lives. It was now that the Persians knew they could not hold back the Macedonians and so began to retreat. Their center then collapsed and they began to flee in panic from the Granicus. Over a thousand Persian horsemen were slain, among them nobles, satraps, and relatives of the Great King.
But Alexander was not yet finished as he quickly surrounded the Greek mercenaries who had been held in reserve by the Persians at the rear of the battle. These men knew they had lost, but as professional soldiers and by the accepted practice of the day they expected to pay a ransom and be allowed to depart. Alexander instead ordered his men to slaughter them, sparing only a few to work for the rest of their short lives as slaves in the mines of Macedonia. They would be a lesson to other Greeks who might side with the Persians against him.
Alexander visited his wounded and examined their injuries himself, offering advice to the camp doctors based on his studies with Aristotle. For the dozens of Macedonians who had fallen, he ordered burials with honor at the battle site while their families back in Macedonia were granted special privileges. For the noblemen among his dead he ordered bronze statues erected at Dion beneath Mount Olympus to be carved by Lysippus, the greatest sculptor of the day. He was generous to the enemy dead as well, allowing the Greek mercenaries to be buried so that they might journey with the boatman Charon across the river of the dead. He shipped all the fine drinking cups, purple robes, and other luxury goods he had captured from the Persians to his mother. Finally he sent three hundred sets of Persian armor to Athens to be set up as trophies on the Acropolis. He ordered an inscription carved beside them for all visitors to read:
ALEXANDER SON OF PHILIP AND ALL THE GREEKS—
EXCEPT THE SPARTANS—SENT THESE SPOILS FROM
THE BARBARIANS IN ASIA.
Alexander was not without a biting sense of humor. He wanted everyone in Greece to know that his Panhellenic crusade against the Persians was proceeding splendidly with the support of all the Greeks—except the Spartans.
The elation that Alexander felt after his first victory was soon replaced with the mundane necessity of governing his newly acquired territory. He appointed his cavalry commander Calas as satrap of the Hellespont region in place of the Persian Arsites, who in shame had committed suicide after the battle at the Granicus. This apparently minor administrative decision on Alexander’s part in fact had monumental consequences for the future. In appointing Calas as satrap, the king was making use of a Persian title and keeping in place the Persian structure of government. This continuity became even more clear when Alexander announced that the cities of northwest Asia Minor would continue to pay taxes in the same manner and at the same rates as they had under the Great King.
Local nobles who had fled to the hills at Alexander’s approach now returned to their estates and were pardoned. Charges were apparently brought against the town of Zeleia, which had hosted the ill-fated Persian conference a few days earlier and served as the military headquarters against the Macedonians. However, Alexander forgave the town in an act of calculated mercy. His campaign was still young and he wanted the cities ahead of him to know he was a generous man—a prudent move since it would encourage citizens to surrender knowing they would not be condemned for their previous Persian sympathies. Alexander then sent Parmenion to take over Dascylion, the Persian capital of the area. It was a prosperous Greek town long accustomed to serving the resident Persians. With the Macedonians now in charge, the mechanisms of rule—and presumably the numerous scribes, tax collectors, and other civil servants—would remain in place under Alexander. The new king knew better than to disrupt a smoothly functioning administration. He needed money to fund his campaign, be it through taxes or tribute payments, and the longtime employees at the satrapal palace were highly skilled at fleecing the local sheep.
Life on the campaign, in spite of the brutalities of war, must have been enjoyable for the young king. He would rise every morning and begin the day by sacrificing to the gods. This was his religious duty as king of Macedonia, but Alexander seems to have been quite sincere in his devotion, especially to Athena and his distant ancestors Zeus and Hercules. After his duties at the altar, he would sit down to breakfast. If the army was not breaking camp, he would spend the day organizing military affairs, answering correspondence, administering justice, or, if there was time, hunting with his friends. He loved to read and would snatch spare moments from the day to read from Greek works by the historians Herodotus and Xenophon, the dramatists Sophocles and Euripides, or poets, especially his beloved Homer.
On the march he would often stop and practice archery or mounting and dismounting from a moving chariot. Whether on the move or based in a town, he would finish the day with a bath or an anointing with oil and scraping in the Greek manner. While he was removing the day’s dirt, he would inquire what the cooks and bakers had prepared for the evening meal. He loved unusual fruits and fresh fish, so that travel along the sea coast was a special treat. His suppers were always magnificent, with Alexander and his friends reclining on couches to dine as any civilized person would. He always made sure his companions received enough to eat and personally dished out delicacies to everyone else at the table first so that often he was left with nothing.
He was fond of drinking wine in abundant quantities, in the Macedonian fashion, but at least at this stage of his life he was not given to drunken binges. He had many virtues, but like most rulers he loved flattery and would often boast of his own deeds like a common soldier. His companions would sometimes compete with one another to compliment the king, causing the more reticent among them to grow uncomfortable lest they fall behind the others in praise. It was for Alexander a tragic flaw, or hamartia, a Greek word meaning to miss the mark when shooting an arrow (Christians would later use the same word to mean “sin”). Love of praise was a pardonable fault of Alexander’s that in time would grow to be a serious problem.
From the Granicus, Alexander marched south along ancient pathways through the mountains to the city of Sardis. This inland capital of the prosperous land of Lydia was a key city of the Persian Empire and the end point of the royal road that stretched well over a thousand miles to Susa in Mesopotamia. The fortified citadel of the town towered hundreds of feet above the valley of the Hermus River, which ran just north of the city down to the Aegean Sea. The fortress was considered unbreachable by all who had visited the site and was surely a major cause of concern to Alexander as he approached the town.
The Lydians were not Greeks but descendants of early settlers in Asia Minor. They still spoke a language
related to that of the Hittites, who had ruled the land a thousand years earlier, but the people of Sardis were accustomed to Greek visitors and ways. Their territory was rich in gold and horses, a powerful kingdom long desired by many conquerors. The Lydians were so wealthy and creative that they were the first nation to mint coins. In the sixth century the last native king, Croesus, had amassed such power that he longed to spread Lydian rule beyond his borders. He was a great supporter of Greek oracles, so that when he contemplated attacking the rising kingdom of Persia under Cyrus, he sent messengers to Delphi to seek the advice of Apollo. After making lavish donations to the oracle, he asked if he should invade Persia. The priestess, possessed by the god, uttered a typically cryptic response: “If Croesus sends a great army against Persia, a mighty empire will fall.”
Croesus was elated at this proclamation and prepared for war. What he didn’t realize was that it was his own empire that would fall. Through the creative use of camels to terrify the Lydian cavalry, Cyrus took Sardis and became ruler of Asia Minor. After a close brush with being burned alive on a giant pyre as a sacrifice to the gods, Croesus became a trusted advisor to Cyrus, and Sardis became the most important Persian city in the west.
Alexander had no camels and no clear idea how to take Sardis other than a long siege he could ill afford. Every day he spent starving the city into submission was a drain on his still limited resources and also gave Darius more time to raise a powerful army against him. It was therefore a tremendous relief to Alexander when Mithrenes, the Persian commander of the city’s citadel, met him several miles outside of Sardis and surrendered the town to him without a fight. Why Mithrenes would do this is something of a puzzle. He may not have been able to hold the surrounding countryside against Alexander’s army, but he could have resisted the Macedonians from the safety of the fortress for months. Whatever the reason, Alexander warmly welcomed Mithrenes and allowed him to retain his previous rank. The Persian commander was to follow the king’s retinue throughout the campaign in Asia Minor, but rather than an honor, this may have been a sign of Alexander’s mistrust of a man who would betray his lord so easily.
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