Alexander the Great

by Philip Freeman

  The coast from this point onward was marginally better, with more reliable water sources and natives who, according to Nearchus, did not quite live like animals. There were date palms cultivated by the local inhabitants and gardens that yielded flowers woven into wreaths by villagers. The local fishermen paddled their boats like canoes rather than using oars mounted on pins like Greeks. The natives wanted to avoid conflict with the Macedonians and brought them all the food they could spare, including cooked fish and cakes made from dates. Nearchus nonetheless took the town by force and stripped the poor villagers of whatever food he could find hidden in their homes. Unfortunately for the sailors, the villagers had only fish-meal flour along with a small amount of wheat and barley used for special occasions.

  Setting out to sea once again, the fleet was surprised one morning by a spout of water blown up from a pod of whales off their bow. Similar animals in the Mediterranean were small, but these cetaceans were enormous by comparison. Ever superstitious, the Egyptian, Greek, and Phoenician sailors who made up the majority of the crews were terrified at the sight of these creatures so close to the ships. They dropped their oars and huddled together, wondering what the gods had in store for them. Nearchus, however, went along the deck encouraging the men to remain firm and—in a move that must have struck the frightened sailors as sheer madness—ordered the helmsmen to turn their bows toward the whales in attack formation. He set a fast rowing pace for the oarsmen directly toward the sea creatures with trumpets blaring and battle cries raised above the waves. The puzzled whales merely slipped beneath the water and swam away from the noisy intruders, but the Macedonians counted their battle with the monsters of the deep as a great victory.

  Farther along the coast the fleet came to an island called Nosala several miles offshore that their local guide said was sacred to the sun god. No one dared to land there, he reported, and those few who had were swept onto its shores and never returned. The island was supposedly the home of a sea goddess who welcomed castaway sailors into her bed for a night of passion, then turned them into fish the next morning. This sounded to Nearchus like a tale out of Homer’s Odyssey, but the next day when one of his ships manned by an Egyptian crew went missing near the island, the admiral decided to investigate for himself. He rowed near the shore and called out the names of the sailors, but no one answered. He then forced his crew to land on the island and went ashore himself, searching in vain for his missing men. Whether lost in the waves or turned into fish by a goddess, they were never seen again. Nearchus returned to the fleet safely and set sail ever westward up the coast.

  After traveling almost five hundred miles along the shore of the Indian Ocean, the fleet finally passed the barren land of Gedrosia and was now entering the Straits of Hormuz opposite the Arabian peninsula. One morning they sighted a distant headland off their port bow only a day’s sail away, marking the entrance to the Persian Gulf. Nearchus knew he had now fulfilled his commission to explore the unknown coast for Alexander. He also knew the king must be beside himself with worry after months with no word from the fleet. He therefore brought his ships ashore at the straits and ordered his sailors to build a stockade while he took a handful of men inland in search of the army. Almost immediately they came across a man wandering by himself wearing a Greek cloak and speaking the same language Nearchus had grown up with on Crete. The surprised vagabond said he was a soldier of Alexander who had become separated from the army a few days earlier. The main camp of the Macedonians, he reported, was only a few days away, with the king in residence there. Nearchus was thrilled at this piece of good fortune and set out with his men through the desert.

  When he finally arrived at the camp and convinced the guards that he was indeed the admiral the king had been searching for, Nearchus was brought before Alexander. The king was so delighted to see his old friend that he broke into tears and could not speak for several minutes. Nearchus and his companions were so gaunt and tattered that Alexander assumed the whole fleet had been lost except for these few survivors. His guilt at failing to meet the ships and supply them properly threatened to overwhelm him until Nearchus understood the cause of his grief and explained that the fleet was safely harbored just a few days away. Alexander then wept again, this time from joy, and declared that the deliverance of the fleet made up for the horrible losses he had suffered on his own trek through the Gedrosian desert. After sacrifices of thanksgiving, Alexander ordered Nearchus to remain behind while one of his lieutenants led the ships on the remainder of the voyage up the Persian Gulf. But Nearchus begged the king to let him finish what he had begun and sail all the way to Susa with the fleet. Alexander granted his request and sent him on his way with plenty of supplies, grateful that he had such a man to serve under him.

  Almost six years after leaving Persia and a full decade since he left Europe, Alexander at last returned to the heartland of his empire just as winter was descending on the hills around Persepolis. His trek through Hyrcania, Parthia, Bactria, Sogdiana, India, Gedrosia, and Carmania had covered thousands of miles over blistering deserts, towering mountains, and steaming jungles. No other army in history had made such an extended campaign nor had any previous expedition discovered and recorded so much new information about distant lands and peoples. When Alexander had left Persepolis, he was twenty-six years old. Now he was in his early thirties, a proven general and ruler of the largest empire the world had ever known—greater even than that of his Persian predecessors. There were still many lands left to conquer, but his first task was to establish firm control over the realms he governed. The lax administration of the provinces during his long absence had to come to an end as the king returned to his throne.

  Alexander’s first stop was Pasargadae to visit again the tomb of the first Great King, Cyrus, a man for whom he had gained a new respect, having fought against many of the same barbarians as this previous ruler in the distant east. As he stooped down and entered the small chamber, he was appalled to see that it had been looted. Everything except the royal couch and sarcophagus itself had been stolen. The lid of the great stone coffin had been pried off and the preserved body of Cyrus thrown carelessly on the floor. The robbers had even tried to break the sarcophagus into sections to take it out the entrance, but had failed and left the pieces scattered about inside. Alexander was livid. He seized the whole family of Magi priests he had charged to care for the tomb and put them to torture to reveal the culprits, but to no avail. He immediately set his old friend Aristobulus the task of restoring the monument to its original condition. This gross insult to the memory of Cyrus was an affront to his own honor as Great King.

  From Pasargadae, Alexander rode the few miles to the city of Persepolis in a very bad mood. There had been much rebuilding during his absence, but the charred ruins of the palace still loomed over the town. Again the king deeply regretted that he had burned down the royal halls of Darius and Xerxes. Parmenion had been right that it was foolish to destroy his own property and stir up ill will among the Persians. In his renewed frustration, he struck out at the local satrap Orxines and accused him of treason. This governor had welcomed the king on his return just a few days before at Pasargadae with splendid gifts for his whole entourage. After bestowing fabulous presents on all of Alexander’s friends, he conspicuously omitted any gift to the eunuch Bagoas, a man highly regarded by the king for both his practical advice and skill in the arts of love. When quietly admonished by one of Alexander’s companions concerning this lapse in protocol, Orxines replied that he gave gifts only to the king’s friends, not to his whores. After word of this comment reached Bagoas, the eunuch and experienced palace courtier quickly carried out his revenge. He whispered in Alexander’s ear that it was in fact Orxines who was behind the looting of Cyrus’ tomb as well as many other crimes. The king was in the mood to blame someone for the poor administration of the province, so it seemed logical to fault the satrap—who was undoubtedly guilty of many genuine indiscretions during his term. The Persian was led out into the
courtyard at Persepolis and hanged, much to the delight of Bagoas. In his place Alexander appointed his bodyguard Peucestas, who had saved his life when he held his shield above Alexander inside the walls at the Indian city of the Malli. Peucestas was as solid a Macedonian as they came, with absolute loyalty to the king. He had also made a great impression on Alexander as one of the few officers who had openly embraced his policy of accommodating himself to the new political order. He had learned the Persian language fluently and dressed in local clothing when appropriate, exactly as the king had hoped his administrators would do. He was well liked by the Persians for these efforts and held great promise as a mediator between the Macedonian elite and the still-powerful natives of the region.

  As Alexander made his way from Persepolis to Susa in Mesopotamia, he was brimming with plans for future conquests. Most men would have been content to consolidate their rule and enjoy the fruits of such a vast empire, but Alexander could not cease from dreaming of new horizons. As Arrian says, he always searched for something more, in competition with himself in lieu of another rival. The reports of Nearchus concerning the nearby coast of Arabia served to strengthen the desire he had long nursed to extend his control of the seas from the Indus River around the peninsula of Arabia to Egypt. The Greek mariner Scylax of Caria had made the long ocean journey from India to Egypt two centuries before for the first Great King Darius, so Alexander knew his plan was possible. He also wanted to conquer the coastal kingdoms of Arabia at the same time. The interior of the enormous peninsula offered little more than sand, but the tribes bordering the more hospitable lands along the Persian Gulf, the Indian Ocean, and the Red Sea had long been known as lucrative sources of pearls, cinnamon, frankincense, and myrrh, which were transported by caravan through the deserts to Palestine and Syria. Why not eliminate the middlemen and bring these riches under his direct control?

  As if this wasn’t enough, Alexander conceived a longing to retrace the Phoenician voyage he had read of in Herodotus and circumnavigate Africa itself, sailing from the Tigris around Arabia and down the eastern coast, following the shore of the continent until he at last arrived at the Pillars of Hercules at the western entrance to the Mediterranean Sea. He had no idea of the immense distances involved in such a trip, though the fact that it took the Phoenicians three years to complete the journey should have been warning enough. He became so excited by the possibility of the maritime conquest of Arabia and a voyage around Africa that he ordered sailors and pilots assembled and a fleet of galleys constructed on the Euphrates in preparation for the expedition.

  But the king’s plans did not end there. He had nursed a grudge against Carthage for aiding Tyre ever since his siege of that doomed city. He also knew that the next logical step of expansion west into the Mediterranean beyond Cyrene would bring him into conflict with this powerful mercantile kingdom of North Africa. He decided that it was both expedient and necessary to crush Carthage and seize control of the whole African coast, as well as the islands and cities it governed. He also knew of the rising power of a small town on the Tiber River in central Italy. These natives, known as Romans, had beaten back Gaulish invaders earlier in the century and were now beginning to spread their power, by war and diplomacy, throughout the Italic peninsula. They might become useful subjects—they had a reputation as fine fighters—but they could not be allowed to expand their influence independently in such a key region of the Mediterranean. The Greek colonies of southern Italy and Sicily would have to be brought into the fold as well, along with the Samnites and other Italic peoples. Spain with its rich mines of silver and gold lay just beyond and would form a natural boundary for the western edge of his empire—unless he sailed beyond the Pillars of Hercules into the Atlantic, adding even Britain and Ireland to his kingdom.

  Once he was finished in the west, he longed to return east and complete the conquest of Scythia as he had planned during his wars in Sogdiana. North through the Black Sea the Macedonian fleet would sail, then the army would march east across the steppes to the banks of the Oxus and Jaxartes with the help of their allies among the Scythian kings. At the same time he commissioned a fleet of open-decked Greek galleys in Hyrcania to explore the Caspian Sea with orders to discover whether it connected to the great ocean encircling the world. When these northern adventures were complete, the kingdoms of the Ganges valley in India were still waiting, in spite of however many battle elephants they might dare to muster. Alexander scoffed at the idea that the Medes and Persians had called themselves kings of Asia, having left so much of the continent unconquered. He, however, would create the first true universal empire encompassing Europe, Africa, and Asia and stretching from Spain and the unknown shores of Africa to Scythia and the great eastern sea, perhaps even to China. It was a stunning vision of world domination. If the gods granted him enough time, he just might be able to make it come true.

  When Alexander arrived at Susa, he summoned the satrap Abulites and demanded to know why he had not sent him supplies in the Gedrosian desert as requested. The Persian governor had no ready response for this lapse nor for the poor administration of his province during the king’s long absence. He tried to mollify Alexander by offering him an enormous bribe in gold coins, but the king simply set the money before his horses. When the animals ignored the treasure, Alexander asked him what good such money was in place of the provisions they had needed in the desert. He then threw Abulites into prison and executed him. Then he personally ran through one of the satrap’s grown sons, Oxathres, with a spear.

  At this point, the Indian wise man Calanus who had accompanied Alexander from the Punjab suddenly fell ill with an acute intestinal disorder and decided to put an end to his own life. He was more than seventy years old and had lived all that time in ascetic simplicity and had avoided sickness. Rather than suffer the torments of a wasting disease in a foreign land, he told the king he was planning to burn himself alive while he still had his wits about him. Alexander, who had grown quite fond of the old philosopher, argued with him and tried to dissuade him from such a drastic step, but Calanus would not be moved. So the king at last agreed and ordered his friend Ptolemy to construct a massive funeral pyre for Calanus.

  On the morning of the grand immolation, Calanus was carried to the pyre in a litter as he could no longer walk long distances. The teacher cheerfully dismounted and stood at the foot of the wooden structure, saying his good-byes and giving away to his Macedonian friends all the rich gifts that Alexander had presented him. He cut a lock of his hair and threw it on the logs, then slowly climbed the pyre and lay down on top. While the whole army watched, Calanus began chanting hymns to the Indian gods in his native tongue just as the fire was lit. The king led the men in a rousing shout as if they were charging the enemy, while horns blared and elephants trumpeted battle cries. All this while, as the inferno engulfed him, Calanus did not move a muscle, but remained motionless until he was consumed by the flames. Afterward some of the soldiers commented that the aged guru must have been mad to undergo such torment, while others thought he was overly prideful about his ability to bear pain. But most—Alexander surely among them—marveled at his courage and disregard for death.

  The king followed the funeral of Calanus with a mass wedding that winter at Susa. This was yet another attempt by Alexander to integrate the Macedonian and native factions under his command, though on a grander scale than anything he had previously attempted. The king himself took two Persian brides, Stateira, the daughter of Darius, and Parysatis, the daughter of the former Great King Artaxerxes. He bestowed another daughter of Darius, Drypetis, on his best friend, Hephaestion, so that their future children might be cousins of his children. Craterus received a sister of Alexander’s first wife, Roxane, while Perdiccas, Ptolemy, Nearchus, Seleucus, and dozens of other companions were given brides from the native aristocracy of Persia, Media, and Bactria. The ceremony itself was deliberately Persian rather than Macedonian in style, with chairs for the bridegrooms placed near one another. After toasts
were drunk to everyone’s good health, the brides entered and sat down beside their intended husbands. Each couple held hands as the groom kissed his new wife—or in Alexander’s case, wives—then led them home to bed. The king had granted all the women fine dowries to make the unions even more appealing to his Macedonian officers.

  It was a great show and a noble effort on Alexander’s part, but as with most of his programs to bring together the quarrelsome members of his court, it was a miserable failure. None of the Macedonians was enthusiastic about taking native brides. Foreign women were fine for amusement, but Alexander’s officers wanted respectable wives from their homeland. Few of the marriages consummated at Susa would endure. The king had better luck with the rank-and-file soldiers. Many had willingly taken on native women as they marched across Asia and fathered children in the camps. Alexander now formally recognized these unions and gave each of the couples splendid wedding presents. He also paid off the debts his soldiers had accumulated over the last few years from moneylenders, wine merchants, and prostitutes—no questions asked—even though it was a huge drain on the treasury. The men were suspicious at first when they were asked to write down how much they owed, fearing it was some sort of trap. But when they realized the king was sincere and not even recording their names as he handed over the money, they were immensely grateful.

  The mood turned sour, however, when the thirty thousand Persian boys he had been training as Macedonian soldiers for the last few years arrived at Susa ready to take their promised place in the new imperial army. These youths had been tutored in the Greek language and schooled in Macedonian fighting techniques and military management until they were the equals of any lads from the hills around Mount Olympus. They performed their drills before the king and his officers in expert fashion, dressed and equipped as traditional Macedonian soldiers, delighting Alexander but sending a shiver through the rest of the army. These Successors, as the king ominously called the boy troop, were to become in time officers of Alexander’s international force to rule the empire and expand the king’s power to new lands. The Macedonians were filled with resentment and fear at the thought of being replaced by these native youths, whom they contemptuously called the “war dancers.” What was the point of conquering the world if they were to lose their rightful place to foreign children?