Transcriber’s Note: Italic text is enclosed in _underscores_.
Additional notes will be found near the end of this ebook.
By the Same Author
THE CAMPAIGN OF CHANCELLORSVILLE. With Maps.
RIDERS OF MANY LANDS. Profusely illustrated by Remington, and from
photographs of Oriental subjects.
A BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OF OUR CIVIL WAR. With Maps and Illustrations.
_Students’ Edition._
PATROCLUS AND PENELOPE: A CHAT IN THE SADDLE. _Popular Edition._ With
woodcuts from instantaneous photographs.
GREAT CAPTAINS. With Maps, etc.
Great Captains:
ALEXANDER. A History of the Origin and Growth of the Art of War,
from the Earliest Times to the Battle of Ipsus, B.C. 301; with a
detailed account of the Campaigns of the Great Macedonian. With
237 Charts, Maps, Plans of Battles and Tactical Manœuvres, Cuts of
Armor, Uniforms, Siege Devices, and Portraits. 2 vols.
HANNIBAL. A History of the Art of War among the Carthaginians and
Romans, down to the Battle of Pydna, 168 B.C.; with a detailed
account of the Second Punic War. With 227 Charts, Maps, Plans
of Battles and Tactical Manœuvres, Cuts of Armor, Weapons, and
Uniforms. 2 vols.
CÆSAR. A History of the Art of War among the Romans, down to the End
of the Roman Empire; with a detailed account of the Campaigns of
Caius Julius Cæsar. With 258 Charts, Maps, Plans of Battles and
Tactical Manœuvres, Cuts of Armor, Weapons, and Engines. 2 vols.
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS. A History of the Art of War from its revival after
the Middle Ages to the end of the Spanish Succession War, with a
detailed account of the Campaigns of the great Swede, and the most
famous Campaigns of Turenne, Condé, Eugene, and Marlborough. With
237 Charts, Maps, Plans of Battles and Tactical Manœuvres, Cuts of
Uniforms, Arms, and Weapons. 2 vols.
NAPOLEON. A History of the Art of War, with many Charts, Maps, Plans
of Battles and Tactical Manœuvres, Portraits, Cuts of Uniforms,
Arms, and Weapons.
VOL. I. Includes the period from the beginning of the French
Revolution to the end of the Eighteenth Century, with a detailed
account of the Wars of the French Revolution.
VOL. II. Includes the period from the beginning of the Consulate to
the end of the Friedland Campaign, with a detailed account of the
Napoleonic Wars.
VOL. III. Includes the period from the beginning of the Peninsular
War to the end of the Russian Campaign.
VOL. IV. Includes the period from the battle of Lützen through
Napoleon’s last campaign.
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
GREAT CAPTAINS
A COURSE OF SIX LECTURES
_SHOWING THE INFLUENCE ON THE ART OF WAR
OF THE CAMPAIGNS OF_
ALEXANDER, HANNIBAL, CÆSAR,
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS, FREDERICK, AND NAPOLEON
BY
THEODORE AYRAULT DODGE
_Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel United States Army, Retired List. Author of
“The Campaign of Chancellorsville;” “A Bird’s-eye View of
Our Civil War;” “Patroclus and Penelope--A
Chat in the Saddle,” etc., etc., etc._
[Illustration]
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
Copyright, 1889
BY THEODORE A. DODGE
_All rights reserved_
TO
John Codman Ropes
IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF
MANY ACTS OF FRIENDSHIP AND HELPFULNESS
AND IN GENUINE APPRECIATION OF HIS
ACUMEN AS A MILITARY CRITIC AND HIS FELICITY AS
AN AUTHOR
THESE PAGES ARE INSCRIBED
WITH CORDIAL ESTEEM
BY THE AUTHOR
PREFACE.
The following lectures were delivered in Boston, under the auspices of
the Lowell Institute, in January, 1889. Their conciseness needs but the
apology of scant time. Little can be said about Alexander or Napoleon
within the limit of an hour. The sketches are of necessity meagre. They
are a summary in part of a larger work, of which the author hopes soon
to begin the publication, in which a volume will be devoted to each
great captain, and mention made of other soldiers who have contributed
to the growth of the art of war. The lectures aim to indicate briefly
what we owe to the great captains, and to draw an intelligible outline
of their careers, which may be filled in by reference to the extended
narratives of others. Historical detail often assumes prominence in the
mind to the exclusion of general form. It is the latter which it is
attempted to portray.
It is generally admitted that Alexander, Hannibal, Cæsar, Frederick,
and Napoleon belong in a class by themselves. Some may claim for
Marlborough or Prince Eugene an equality with Gustavus Adolphus. But,
mindful that Gustavus was the first to rescue methodical war from
the oblivion of the Middle Ages, and that he originated the modern
system,--the art appears to owe that to him which entitles him to
greater rank, though, indeed, the achievements of others may have
reached or even exceeded the height of his.
All sources of information have been utilized, from Arrian’s Anabasis
of Alexander to Jomini’s Life of Napoleon. Among quite recent works,
special thanks are due to the exhaustive History of War of Prince
Galitzin, and the Studies of Count von Wartenburg.
CONTENTS
LECTURE I.
PAGE
ALEXANDER 1
LECTURE II.
HANNIBAL 38
LECTURE III.
CÆSAR 73
LECTURE IV.
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS 107
LECTURE V.
FREDERICK 142
LECTURE VI.
NAPOLEON 178
LIST OF MAPS.
PAGE
PARALLEL ORDER 3
THE BATTLE OF THYMBRA, B.C. 545 4
BEFORE THE BATTLE OF MARATHON 6
THE GREEK MANŒUVRE AT MARATHON 7
THE BATTLE OF LEUCTRA, B.C. 371 9
CONQUESTS OF ALEXANDER, B.C. 334 TO 323 15
THE BATTLE OF THE HYDASPES, B.C. 326 17
HANNIBAL’S FLANK MARCH, B.C. 217 43
THE BATTLE OF CANNÆ, B.C. 216, I 47
THE BATTLE OF CANNÆ, B.C. 216, II 53
CAPUA, B.C. 211 63
GAUL 75
THE CIVIL WAR 89
THE CAMPAIGN OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS IN GERMANY, A.D. 1630–1–2 120
MAP FOR THE SEVEN-YEARS WAR 145
LEUTHEN, DEC. 5, 1757 155
1796 180
THE MARENGO CAMPAIGN 187
THE ULM-AUSTERLITZ CAMPAIGN 189
THE JENA CAMPAIGN 194
THE WATERLOO CAMPAIGN 209
LECTURE I.
ALEXANDER.
The earliest history is but a record of wars. Peace had no events
stirring enough to call for record. It was the conflict of heroes
which inspired the oldest and still greatest of poems. As the more
intelligent peoples were, as a rule, the victors, the march of
civilization followed in the footsteps of war up to very recent times.
The history of war has been carefully recorded for nearly twenty-five
centuries, but the science of war, in a written form, dates back less
than one hundred years.
The art of war owes its origin and growth to the deeds of a few great
captains. Not to their brilliant victories; not to the noble courage
evoked by their ambition; not to their distortion of mechanics and
the sciences into new engines of slaughter; not to their far-reaching
conquests; but to their intellectual conceptions. For war is as
highly intellectual as astronomy. The main distinction between the
one and the other lies in the fact that the intellectual conception
of the general must at once be so put into play as to call for the
exertion of the moral forces of his character, while the astronomer’s
inspiration stops at a purely mental process. What has produced the
great captains is the coexistence of extraordinary intellect and equal
force of character, coupled with events worthy of and calling out these
qualities in their highest expression.
My effort will be to suggest how, out of the campaigns and battles of
the great captains, has arisen what to-day we call the art of war,--not
so much out of the technical details, which are a subordinate matter,
as the general scheme; and to show that, while war is governed by its
rules as well as art, it is the equipment of the individual which
makes an Alexander or a Michael Angelo. Six of these captains stand
distinctly in a class by themselves, far above any others. They are,
in ancient days, Alexander, Hannibal, Cæsar,--all within three hundred
years of each other. Then follows a gap of seventeen centuries of
unmethodical war, and we complete the list with Gustavus Adolphus,
Frederick, and Napoleon,--all within two centuries. “The art of war
is the most difficult of all arts, the military reputation in general
the greatest of all reputations,” says Napoleon. The limited number of
great captains proves this true.
The words _campaign_ and _battle_ cover the same ground as _strategy_
and _tactics_. Let me make these plain to you, and I shall have done
with definitions and technicalities. A campaign consists in the
marching of an army about the country or into foreign territory to
seek the enemy or inflict damage on him. Strategy is the complement of
this term, and is the art of so moving an army over a country,--on the
map, as it were,--that when you meet the enemy you shall have placed
him in a disadvantageous position for battle or other manœuvres. One
or more battles may occur in a campaign. Tactics (or grand tactics,
to distinguish the art from the mere details of drill) relates only to
and is coextensive with the evolutions of the battle-field. Strategy
comprehends your manœuvres when not in the presence of the enemy;
tactics, your manœuvres when in contact with him. Tactics has always
existed as common military knowledge, often in much perfection.
Strategy is of modern creation, _as an art which one may study_. But
all great captains have been great strategists.
To say that strategy is war on the map is no figure of speech. Napoleon
always planned and conducted his campaigns on maps of the country
spread out for him by his staff, and into these maps he stuck colored
pins to indicate where his divisions were to move. Having thus wrought
out his plan, he issued orders accordingly. To the general, the map is
a chessboard, and upon this he moves his troops as you or I move queen
and knight.
[Illustration: PARALLEL ORDER]
Previous to Cyrus, about 550 B.C., we have a record of nothing useful
to the modern soldier. Nimrod, Semiramis, Sesostris were no doubt
distinguished conquerors. But they have left nothing for us to profit
by. War was a physical, not an intellectual art, for many centuries.
Armies marched out to meet each other, and, if an ambush was not
practicable, drew up in parallel order, and fought till one gave way.
The greater force could form the longer line and overlap and turn the
other’s flanks. And then, as to-day, a flank attack was fatal; for men
cannot fight unless they face the foe; and a line miles in length needs
time to change its front.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF THYMBRA B.C. 545]
Cyrus is to the soldier the first historical verity. In the battle of
Thymbra, according to Xenophon, where Crœsus outnumbered him more than
two to one and overlapped his flanks, he disposed his troops in so deep
a tactical order of five lines, and so well protected his flanks, that
when Crœsus’ wings wheeled in to encompass him, his reserves in the
fifth line could fall on the flanks of these very wheeling wings. And
as the wheel was extensive and difficult of execution, it produced a
gap between wing and centre,--as Cyrus had expected,--and into this he
poured with a chosen body, took Crœsus’ centre in reverse, and utterly
overthrew him and his kingdom. Cyrus overran in his conquests almost as
great a territory as Alexander.
It is of advantage to see what had been done before Alexander’s
time,--to understand how much Alexander knew of war from others. For
Alexander found war in a crude state and conducted it with the very
highest art. That his successors did not do so is due to the fact that
they did not understand, or were not capable of imitating him.
Cyrus’ successor, Darius I. (B.C. 513), undertook a campaign against
the Scythians north of the Danube, with, it is said, seven hundred
thousand men. The Greek Mandrocles bridged for this army both the
Bosphorus and the Danube, no mean engineering feat to-day.
Shortly after came the Persian invasion of Greece and the battle of
Marathon (490 B.C.). Here occurred one of the early tactical variations
from the parallel order. Miltiades had but eleven thousand men; the
Persians had ten times as many. They lay on the sea-shore in front of
their fleet. To reach and lean his flanks on two brooks running to the
sea, Miltiades made his centre thin, his wings strong, and advanced
sharply on the enemy. As was inevitable, the deep Persian line easily
broke through his centre. But Miltiades had either anticipated and
prepared his army for this, or else seized the occasion by a very
stroke of genius. There was no symptom of demoralization. The Persian
troops followed hard after the defeated centre. Miltiades caused each
wing to wheel inwards, and fell upon both flanks of the Persian
advance, absolutely overwhelming it, and throwing it back upon the main
line in such confusion as to lead to complete victory.
[Illustration: BEFORE BATTLE OF MARATHON]
You must note that demoralization always plays an immense part in
battle. The Old Dessauer capped all battle-tactics with his: “Wenn Du
gehst nicht zurück, so geht der Feind zurück!” (If you don’t fall back,
why, the enemy will fall back.) Whenever a tactical manœuvre unnerves
the enemy, it at once transforms his army into a mob. The reason why
Pickett’s charge did not succeed was that there was no element of
demoralization in the Union ranks. Had there been, Gettysburg might
have become a rebel victory.
The Peloponnesian War shows instances of far-seeing strategy, such as
the seizure of Pylos (B.C. 425), whence the threat of incursions on
Sparta’s rear obliged her to relax her hold on the throat of Athens.
Brasidas was the general who, at this time, came nearest to showing the
moral and intellectual combination of the great soldier. His marches
through Thessaly and Illyria and his defeat of Cleon at Amphipolis were
admirable. He it was who first marched in a hollow square, with baggage
in the centre.
[Illustration: GREEK MANŒUVRE AT MARATHON]
The soldier of greatest use to us preceding Alexander was
unquestionably Xenophon. After participating in the defeat of Cyrus the
Younger by Artaxerxes, at Cunaxa (B.C. 401), in which battle the Greek
phalanx had held its own against twenty times its force, Xenophon was
chosen to command the rear-guard of the phalanx in the Retreat of the
Ten Thousand to the Sea; and it is he who has shown the world what
should be the tactics of retreat,--how to command a rear-guard. No
chieftain ever possessed a grander moral ascendant ever his men. More
tactical originality has come from the Anabasis than from any dozen
other books. For instance, Xenophon describes accurately a charge over
bad ground in which, so to speak, he broke forward by the right of
companies,--one of the most useful minor manœuvres. He built a bridge
on goat-skins stuffed with hay, and sewed up so as to be water-tight.
He established a reserve in rear of the phalanx from which to feed
weak parts of the line,--a superb first conception. He systematically
devastated the country traversed to arrest pursuit. After the lapse of
twenty-three centuries there is no better military textbook than the
Anabasis.
Alexander had a predecessor in the invasion of Asia. Agesilaus, King
of Sparta, went (B.C. 399) to the assistance of the Greek cities of
Asia Minor, unjustly oppressed by Tissaphernes. He set sail with eight
thousand men and landed at Ephesus; adjusted the difficulties of these
cities, and, having conducted two successful campaigns in Phrygia and
Caria, returned to Lacedemon overland.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF LEUCTRA B.C. 371]
Associated with one of the most notable tactical manœuvers--the oblique
order of battle--is the immortal name of Epaminondas. This great
soldier originated what all skilful generals have used frequently
and to effect, and what Frederick the Great showed in its highest
perfection at Leuthen. As already observed, armies up to that time had
with rare exceptions attacked in parallel order and fought until one
or other gave way. At Leuctra (B.C. 371), Epaminondas had six thousand
men, against eleven thousand of the invincible Spartans. The Thebans
were dispirited by many failures, the Lacedemonians in good heart.
The Spartan king was on the right of his army. Epaminondas tried a
daring innovation. He saw that if he could break the Spartan right, he
would probably drive the enemy from the field. He therefore quadrupled
the depth of his own left, making it a heavy column, led it sharply
forward, and ordered his centre and right to advance more slowly, so
as not seriously to engage. The effect was never doubtful. While the
Spartan centre and left was held in place by the threatening attack
of the Theban centre and right, as well as the combat of the cavalry
between the lines, their right was overpowered and crushed; having
defeated which, Epaminondas wheeled around on the flank of the Spartan
centre and left, and swept them from the field. The genius of a great
tactician had prevailed over numbers, prestige, and confidence. At
Mantinæ, nine years later, Epaminondas practised the same manœuvre with
equal success, but himself fell in the hour of victory. (B.C. 362.)
The Greek phalanx was the acme of shock tactics. It was a compact body,
sixteen men deep, whose long spears bristled to the front in an array
which for defence or attack on level ground made it irresistible. No
body of troops could withstand its impact. Only on broken ground was it
weak. Iphicrates, of Athens, had developed the capacity of light troops
by a well-planned skirmish-drill and discipline, and numbers of these
accompanied each phalanx, to protect its flanks and curtain its advance.
Such, then, had been the progress in military art when Alexander
the Great was born. Like Hannibal and Frederick, Alexander owed his
military training and his army to his father. Philip had been a hostage
in Thebes in his youth, had studied the tactics of Epaminondas, and
profited by his lessons. When he ascended the throne of Macedon, the
army was but a rabble. He made and left it the most perfect machine of
ancient days. He armed his phalanx with the sarissa, a pike twenty-one
feet long, and held six feet from the loaded butt. The sarissas of the
five front ranks protruded from three to fifteen feet beyond the line;
and all were interlocked. This formed a wall of spears which nothing
could penetrate. The Macedonian phalanx was perfectly drilled in a
fashion much like our evolutions in column, and was distinctly the
best in Greece. It was unconquered till later opposed by the greater
mobility of the Roman legion. The cavalry was equally well drilled.
Before Philip’s death, in all departments, from the ministry of war
down, the army of Macedon was as perfect in all its details as the
army of Prussia is to-day.
Philip also made, and Alexander greatly improved, what was the
equivalent of modern artillery. The catapult was a species of huge bow,
capable of throwing pikes weighing from ten to three hundred pounds
over half a mile. It could also hurl a large number of leaden bullets
at each fire. It was the cannon of the ancients. The ballista was their
mortar, and threw heavy stones with accurate aim to a considerable
distance. It could cast flights of arrows. Alexander constructed and
was always accompanied by batteries of ballistas and catapults, the
essential parts of which were even more readily transported than our
mountain batteries. These were not, however, commonly used in battle,
but rather in the attack and defence of defiles, positions, and towns.
Alexander’s first experience in a pitched battle was at Chæronea
(B.C. 338), on which field Philip won his election as Autocrator, or
general-in-chief, of the armies of Greece. Here, a lad of eighteen,
Alexander commanded the Macedonian left wing, and defeated the hitherto
invincible Theban Sacred Band by his repeated and obstinate charges
at the head of the Thessalian horse. Philip had for years harbored
designs of an expedition against the Persian monarchy, but did not live
to carry them out. Alexander succeeded him at the age of twenty (B.C.
336). He had been educated under Aristotle. No monarch of his years
was ever so well equipped as he in head and heart. Like Frederick,
he was master from the start. “Though the name has changed, the king
remains,” quoth he. His arms he found ready to hand, tempered in his
father’s forge. But it was his own strength and skill which wielded
them.
The Greeks considered themselves absolved from Macedonian jurisdiction
by the death of Philip. Not so thought Alexander. He marched against
them, turning the passes of Tempe and Kallipeuke by hewing a path
along the slopes of Mount Ossa, and made himself master of Thessaly.
The Amphictyonic Council deemed it wise to submit, and elected him
Autocrator in place of his father.
Alexander’s one ambition had always been to head the Greeks in
punishing the hereditary enemy of Hellas, the Persian king. He had
imbibed the idea of his Asiatic conquests in his early youth, and had
once, as a lad, astonished the Persian envoys to the Court of Pella
by his searching and intelligent questions concerning the peoples and
resources of the East.
Before starting on such an expedition, however, he must once for all
settle the danger of barbarian incursions along his borders. This he
did in a campaign brilliant by its skilful audacity; but on a rumor
of his defeat and death among the savages, Thebes again revolted.
Alexander, by a march of three hundred miles in two weeks across a
mountainous country, suddenly appeared at her gates, captured and
destroyed the city, and sold the inhabitants into slavery. Athens
begged off. Undisputed chief, he now set out for Asia with thirty
thousand foot and five thousand horse. (B.C. 334.)
There is time but for the description of a single campaign and battle
of this great king’s. The rest of his all but superhuman exploits must
be hurried through with barely a mention, and the tracing of his march
on the map. I have preferred to select for longer treatment the battle
of the Hydaspes, for Issus and Arbela are more generally familiar.
Alexander’s first battle after crossing into Asia was at the Granicus,
where he defeated the Persian army with the loss of a vast number
of their princes and generals. Thence he advanced through Mysia and
Lydia, freeing the Greek cities on the way, captured Miletus and
Halicarnassus, and having made himself a necessary base on the Ægean,
marched through Caria and Lycia, fighting for every step, but always
victorious, not merely by hard blows, but by hard blows delivered where
they would best tell. Then through Phrygia to Gordium (where he cut
the Gordian knot), and through Cappadocia to Cilicia. He then passed
through the Syrian Gates--a mountain gap--heading for Phœnicia. Here
Darius got in his rear by passing through the Amanic Gates farther up
the range, which Alexander either did not know, or singularly enough
had overlooked. The Macedonians were absolutely cut off from their
communications. But, nothing daunted, Alexander kept his men in heart,
turned on Darius, and defeated him at Issus, with a skill only equalled
by his hopeful boldness, and saved himself harmless from the results of
a glaring error.
So far (B.C. 333), excepting this, Alexander had taken no step which
left any danger in his rear. He had confided every city and country
he had traversed to the hands of friends. His advance was our first
instance on a grand scale of methodical war,--the origin of strategy.
He continued in this course, not proposing to risk himself in the heart
of Persia until he had reduced to control the entire coast-line of
the Eastern Mediterranean as a base. This task led him through Syria,
Phœnicia,--where the siege of Tyre, one of the few greatest sieges of
antiquity, delayed him seven months,--and Palestine to Egypt. Every
part of this enormous stretch of coast was subjugated.
Having in possession, practically, all the seaports of the then
civilized world, and having neutralized the Persian fleet by victories
on land and at sea, Alexander returned to Syria, marched inland and
crossed the Euphrates and Tigris, thus projecting his line of advance
from the centre of his base. At Arbela he defeated the Persian army in
toto, though they were twenty to his one. Babylon, Susa, Persepolis,
and Pasargadæ opened their gates to the conquerer. But Darius escaped.
It was now the spring of 330 B.C. Only four years had elapsed and
Alexander had overturned the Persian Empire; and though he left home
with a debt of eight hundred talents, he had won a treasure estimated
at from one hundred and fifty millions of dollars up.
[Illustration: CONQUESTS OF ALEXANDER B.C. 334–323]
Alexander now followed Darius through Media and the Caspian Gates
to Parthia, subduing the several territories he traversed. He found
Darius murdered by the satraps who attended him. This was no common
disappointment to Alexander, for the possession of the person of
the Great King would have not only rendered his further conquests
more easy, but would have ministered enormously to his natural
and fast-growing vanity. He pursued the murderers of Darius, but
as he could not safely leave enemies in his rear, he was compelled
to pause and reduce Aria, Drangiana, and Arachosia. Then he made
his way over the Caucasus into Bactria and Sogdiana, the only feat
which equals Hannibal’s passage of the Alps. His eastern limit was
the river Jaxartes, the crossing of which was made under cover of
his artillery,--its first use for such a purpose. The details of all
these movements are so wonderful and show such extraordinary courage,
enterprise, and intelligence, such exceptional power over men, so
true a conception of the difficulties to be encountered, such correct
judgment as to the best means of overcoming them, that if the test
should be the accomplishment of the all but impossible, Alexander would
easily stand at the head of all men who have ever lived. He now formed
the project of conquering India, and, returning over the Caucasus,
marched to the Indus and crossed it. Other four years had been consumed
since he left Persepolis. It was May, B.C. 326.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF THE HYDASPES B.C. 326]
Alexander was in the Punjaub, the land of the five rivers. The Hydaspes
was swollen with the storms of the rainy season and the melting snows
of the Himalayas. The roads were execrable. On the farther side of the
river, a half-mile wide, could be seen Porus, noted as the bravest and
most able king in India, with his army drawn up before his camp and his
elephants and war-chariots in front, ready to dispute his crossing.
The Hydaspes is nowhere fordable, except in the dry season. Alexander
saw that he could not force a passage in the face of this array,
and concluded to manœuvre for a chance to cross. He had learned from
experience that the Indians were good fighters. His cavalry could not
be made to face their elephants. He was reduced to stratagem, and what
he did has ever since been the model for the passage of rivers, when
the enemy occupies the other bank. Alexander first tried to convince
Porus that he intended to wait till the river fell, and carefully
spread a rumor to this effect. He devastated the country, accumulated
vast stores in his camp, and settled his troops in quarters. Porus
continued active in scouting the river-banks, and held all the
crossings in force. Alexander sent parties in boats up and down the
stream, to distract his attention. He made many feints at crossing by
night. He put the phalanx under arms in the light of the camp-fires;
blew the signals to move; marched the horse up and down; got the boats
ready to load. To oppose all this Porus would bring down his elephants
to the banks, order his men under arms, and so remain till daylight,
lest he should be surprised.
After some time Porus began to weary his troops by marching them out in
the inclement weather to forestall attempts to cross; and finding these
never actually made, grew careless, believing that Alexander would,
in reality, make no serious effort till low water. But Alexander was
daily watching his opportunity. He saw that to cross in front of Porus’
camp was still impossible. The presence of the elephants near the shore
would surely prevent the horse from landing, and even his infantry was
somewhat unnerved by them. But he had learned that large reënforcements
were near at hand for Porus, and it was essential to defeat the Indians
before these came to hand.
The right bank, on which lay the Macedonians, was high and hilly.
The left bank was a wide, fertile plain. Alexander could hide his
movements, while observing those of Porus. When he saw that the Indian
king had ceased to march out to meet his feigned crossings, he began to
prepare for a real one, meanwhile keeping up the blind. Seventeen miles
above the camp was a wooded headland formed by a bend in the river
and a small affluent, capable of concealing a large force, and itself
hidden by a wooded and uninhabited island in its front. This place
Alexander connected by a chain of couriers with the camp, and laid
posts all along the river, at which, every night, noisy demonstrations
were made and numerous fires were lighted, as if large forces were
present at each of them. When Porus had been quite mystified as to
Alexander’s intentions, Craterus was left with a large part of the
army at the main camp, and instructed to make open preparations to
cross, but not really to do so unless Porus’ army and the elephants
should move up-stream. Between Craterus and the headland, Alexander
secreted another large body, with orders to put over when he should
have engaged battle. He himself marched, well back of the river and out
of sight,--there was no dust to betray him,--to the headland, where
preparations had already been completed for crossing.
The night was tempestuous. The thunder and rain, usual during the
south-west monsoon, drowned the noise of the workmen and moving troops
and concealed the camp-fires, as well as kept Porus’ outposts under
shelter. Alexander had caused a number of boats to be cut in two for
transportation, but in such manner that they could be quickly joined
for use,--the first mention we have of anything like pontoons. Towards
daylight the storm abated and the crossing began. Most of the infantry
and the heavy cavalry were put over in the boats. The light cavalry
swam across, each man sustaining himself on a hay-stuffed skin, so
as not to burden the horses. The movement was not discovered until
the Macedonians had passed the island, when Porus’ scouts saw what
was doing and galloped off with the news. It soon appeared that the
army had not landed on the mainland, but on a second island. This
was usually accessible by easy fords, but the late rains had swollen
the low water from it to the shore to deep and rapid torrent. Here
was a dilemma. Unless the troops were at once got over, Porus would
be down upon them. There was no time to bring the boats around the
island. After some delay and a great many accidents, a place was found
where, by wading to their breasts, the infantry could get across. This
was done, and the cavalry, already over, was thrown out in front.
Alexander, as speedily as possible, set out with his horse, some five
thousand strong, and ordered the phalanx, which numbered about six
thousand more, to follow on in column, the light foot to keep up, if
possible, with the cavalry. He was afraid that Porus might retire, and
wished to be on hand to pursue.
Porus could see the bulk of the army under Craterus still occupying
the old camp, and knew that the force which had crossed could be but a
small part of the army. But he underestimated it, and instead of moving
on it in force, sent only some two thousand cavalry and one hundred and
twenty chariots, under his son, to oppose it. Porus desired to put off
battle till his reënforcements came up. Alexander proposed to force
battle.
So soon as Alexander saw that he had but a limited force in his front,
he charged down upon it with the heavy horse, “squadron by squadron,”
says Arrian, which must have meant something similar to our line in
_echelon_, while the light horse skirmished about its flanks. The enemy
was at once broken, and Porus’ son and four hundred men were killed.
The chariots, stalled in the deep bottom, were one and all captured.
Porus was nonplussed. Alexander’s manœuvre had been intended to
deceive, and had completely deceived him. He could see Craterus
preparing to cross, and yet he knew Alexander to be the more dangerous
of the two. He was uncertain what to do, but finally concluded to
march against Alexander, leaving some elephants and an adequate force
opposite Craterus. He had with him four thousand cavalry, three hundred
chariots, two hundred elephants, and thirty thousand infantry. Having
moved some distance, he drew up his lines on a plain where the ground
was solid, and awaited Alexander’s attack.
His arrangements were skilful. In front were the redoubtable elephants,
which Porus well knew that Alexander’s cavalry could not face, one
hundred feet apart, covering the entire infantry line, some four miles
long. The infantry had orders to fill up the gaps between the elephants
by companies of one hundred and fifty men. Columns of foot flanked the
elephants. These creatures were intended to keep the Macedonian horse
at a distance, and trample down the foot when it should advance on
the Indian lines. Porus had but the idea of a parallel order, and of
a defensive battle at that. His own cavalry was on the wings, and in
their front the chariots, each containing two mailed drivers, two heavy
and two light-armed men.
When the Macedonian squadrons reached the ground, and the king rode out
to reconnoitre, he saw that he must wait for his infantry, and began
manœuvring with his horse, to hold himself till the phalanx came up.
Had Porus at once advanced on him, he could easily have swept him away.
But that he did not do so was of a part with Alexander’s uniform good
fortune. The phalanx came up at a lively gait, and the king gave it a
breathing-spell, while he kept Porus busy by small demonstrations.
The latter, with his elephants, and three to one of men, simply bided
his time, calmly confident of the result. Alexander yielded honest
admiration to the skill of Porus’ dispositions, and his forethought in
opposing the elephants to his own strong arm, the cavalry.
The Macedonians had advanced with their right leaning on the river.
Despite the elephants, Alexander must use his horse, if he expected
to win. In this arm he outnumbered the enemy. He could not attack in
front, nor, indeed, await the onset of the elephants and chariots. With
the instinct of genius, and confident that his army could manœuvre with
thrice the rapidity of Porus, as well as himself think and act still
more quickly, he determined to attack the Indian left in force. He
despatched Coenus with a body of heavy horse by a circuit against the
enemy’s right, with instructions, if Porus’ cavalry of that wing should
be sent to the assistance of the left, to charge in on the naked flank
and rear of the Indian infantry. He himself with the bulk and flower of
the horse, sustained by the more slowly moving phalanx, made an oblique
movement towards Porus’ left. The Indian king at first supposed that
Alexander was merely uncovering his infantry, to permit it to advance
to the attack, and as such an attack would be playing into Porus’
hands, he awaited results. This, again, was Alexander’s salvation. It
left him the offensive. Porus had not yet perceived Coenus’ march, the
probably rolling ground had hidden it, and he ordered his right-flank
cavalry over to sustain that of the left, towards which flank Alexander
was moving. The phalanx, once uncovered, Alexander ordered forward,
but not to engage until the wings had been attacked, so as to
neutralize the elephants and the chariots.
These dispositions gave the Macedonian line the oblique order of
Epaminondas, with left refused. Alexander had used the same order
at Issus and Arbela. As he rode forward, he pushed out the Daan
horse-bowmen to skirmish with the Indian left, while he, in their
rear, by a half wheel, could gain ground to the right sufficient to
get beyond and about the enemy’s flank, with the heavy squadrons of
Hephæstion and Perdiccas. The Indian horse seems to have been misled
by what Alexander was doing,--it probably could not understand the
Macedonian tactics,--for it was not well in hand, and had advanced out
of supporting distance from the infantry.
Meanwhile Coenus had made his circuit of the enemy’s right, and, the
Indian cavalry having already moved over towards the left, he fell
on the right flank and rear of the Indian infantry and threw it into
such confusion that it was kept inactive during the entire battle.
Then, completing his gallant ride, and with the true instinct of the
_beau sabreur_, Coenus galloped along Porus’ rear, to join the _mêlée_
already engaged on the left. To oppose Coenus as well as Alexander, the
Indian cavalry was forced to make double front. While effecting this,
Alexander drove his stoutest charge home upon them. They at once broke
and retired upon the elephants, “as to a friendly wall for refuge,”
says Arrian.
A number of these beasts were now made to wheel to the left and
charge on Alexander’s horse, but this exposed them in flank to the
phalanx, which advanced, wounded many of the animals, and killed most
of the drivers. Deprived of guidance, the elephants swerved on the
phalangites, but they were received with such a shower of darts that in
their affright they made about-face upon the Indian infantry, to the
great consternation of the latter.
The Indian cavalry, meanwhile, had rallied under the cover of the
elephants, and again faced the Macedonians. But the king renewed his
charges again and again,--it was a characteristic feat of Alexander’s,
from boyhood up, to be able to get numberless successive charges out
of his squadrons,--and forced them back under the brutes’ heels. The
Macedonian cavalry was itself much disorganized; but Alexander’s white
plume waved everywhere, and under his inspiration, Coenus having now
joined, there was, despite disorder, no let-up to the pressure, from
both fronts at once, on Porus’ harassed horse.
The situation was curious. The Macedonian cavalry, inspired by the
tremendous animation of the king, maintained its constant charges. The
Indian cavalry was huddled up close to the infantry and elephants.
These unwieldy creatures were alternately urged on the phalanx and
driven back on Porus’ line. The Macedonian infantry had plenty of
elbow-room, and could retire from them and again advance. The Indian
infantry had none. But finally the elephants grew discouraged at being
between two fires, lifted their trunks with one accord in a trumpeting
of terror, and retired out of action, “like ships backing water,” as
Arrian picturesquely describes it.
Alexander now saw that the victory was his. But the situation was still
delicate; he kept the phalanx in place and continued his charges upon
Porus’ left flank with the cavalry. Finally, Porus, who had been in the
thickest of the fray, collected forty of the yet unwounded elephants,
and charged on the phalanx, leading the van with his own huge, black,
war-elephant. But Alexander met this desperate charge with the
Macedonian archers, who swarmed around the monsters, wounded some, cut
the ham-strings of others, and killed the drivers.
The charge had failed. At this juncture,--his eye was as keen as
Napoleon’s for the critical instant,--Alexander ordered forward the
phalanx, with protended sarissas and linked shields, while himself led
the cavalry round to the Indian rear, and charged in one final effort
with the terrible Macedonian shout of victory. The whole Indian army
was reduced to an inert, paralyzed mass. It was only individuals who
managed to escape.
The battle had lasted eight hours, and had been won against great odds
by crisp tactical skill and the most brilliant use of cavalry. The
history of war shows no instance of a more superb and effective use
of horse. Coenus exhibited, in carrying out the king’s orders, the
clean-cut conception of the cavalry general’s duty, and Alexander’s
dispositions were masterly throughout. His prudent forethought in
leaving behind him a force sufficient to insure his safety in case of
disaster in the battle is especially to be noted.
Craterus and the other detachments now came up, and the pursuit was
intrusted to them. Of Porus’ army, twenty thousand infantry and three
thousand cavalry, including numberless chiefs, were killed, and all the
chariots, which had proved useless in the battle, were broken up. The
Macedonian killed numbered two hundred horse and seven hundred foot.
The wounded were not usually counted, but averaged eight to twelve for
one of killed. This left few Macedonians who could not boast a wound.
Porus, himself wounded, endeavored to escape on his own elephant.
Alexander galloped after on Bucephalus, the horse we all remember
that, as a mere lad, he had mounted and controlled by kindness and by
skilful, rational treatment, when all others had failed to do so, and
who had served him ever since. But the gallant old charger, exhausted
by the toils of the day, fell in his tracks and died, at the age of
upwards of thirty years. Porus surrendered, when he might have escaped.
When brought to Alexander, the king, in admiration of his bravery and
skill, asked him what treatment he would like to receive. “That due to
a king, Alexander!” proudly replied Porus. “Ask thou more of me,” said
Alexander. “To be treated like a king covers all a king can desire,”
insisted the Indian monarch. Alexander, recognizing the qualities of
the man, made Porus his friend, associate, and ally, and viceroy of a
large part of his Punjaub conquests.
The Macedonian king went but a short distance farther into India. His
project of reaching the Ganges was ship-wrecked on the determination
of his veterans not to advance beyond the Hyphasis. He returned to the
Hydaspes, and moved down the river on a huge fleet of two thousand
boats, subduing the tribes on either bank as he proceeded on his way.
In capturing a city of the Malli he nearly met his death.
This episode is too characteristic of the man to pass by unnoticed.
Battles were won in those days by hand-to-hand work, and Alexander
always fought like a Homeric hero. He had formed two storming columns,
himself heading the one and Perdiccas the other. The Indians but weakly
defended the town wall, and retired into the citadel. Alexander at
once made his way into the town through a gate which he forced, but
Perdiccas was delayed for want of scaling-ladders. Arrived at the
citadel, the Macedonians began to undermine its wall, and the ladders
were put in position. Alexander, always impatient in his valor, seeing
that the work did not progress as fast as his own desires, seized a
scaling-ladder, himself planted it, and ascended first of all, bearing
his shield aloft, to ward off the darts from above. He was followed by
Peucestas, the soldier who always carried before the king in battle the
shield brought from the temple of the Trojan Athena, and by Leonnatus,
the confidential body-guard. Upon an adjoining ladder went Abreas, a
soldier who received double pay for his conspicuous valor. Alexander
first mounted the battlements and frayed a place for himself with his
sword. The king’s guards, anxious for his safety, crowded upon the
ladders in such numbers as to break them down. Alexander was left
standing with only Peucestas, Abreas, and Leonnatus upon the wall
in the midst of his enemies; but so indomitable were his strength
and daring that none came within reach of his sword but to fall. The
barbarians had recognized him by his armor and white plume, and the
multitude of darts which fell upon him threatened his life at every
instant. The Macedonians below implored him to leap down into their
outstretched arms. Nothing daunted, however, and calling on every man
to follow who loved him, Alexander leaped down inside the wall and,
with his three companions backing up against it, stoutly held his own.
In a brief moment he had cut down a number of Indians and had slain
their leader, who ventured against him. But Abreas fell dead beside
him, with an arrow in the forehead, and Alexander was at the same
moment pierced by an arrow through the breast. The king valiantly stood
his ground till he fell exhausted by loss of blood, and over him, like
lions at bay, but glowing with heroic lustre, stood Peucestas, warding
missiles from him with the sacred shield, and Leonnatus guarding him
with his sword, both dripping blood from many wounds. It seemed that
the doom of all was sealed.
The Macedonians, meanwhile, some with ladders and some by means of pegs
inserted between the stones in the wall, had begun to reach the top,
and one by one leaped within and surrounded the now lifeless body of
Alexander. Others forced an entrance through one of the gates and flew
to the rescue. Their valor was as irresistible as their numbers were
small. The Indians could in no wise resist their terrible onset, their
war-cry doubly fierce from rage at the fate of their beloved king, who,
to them, was, in truth, a demigod. They were driven from the spot, and
Alexander was borne home to the camp. So enraged were the Macedonians
at the wounding of their king, whom they believed to be mortally
struck, that they spared neither man, woman, nor child in the town.
Alexander’s wounds were indeed grave, but he recovered, much to the
joy of his army. While his life was despaired of, a great deal of
uncertainty and fear was engendered of their situation, for Alexander
was the centre around which revolved the entire mechanism. Without
him what could they do? How ever again reach their homes? Every man
believed that no one but the king could lead them, and how much less in
retreat than in advance!
Alexander’s fleet finally reached the mouth of the Indus. The admiral,
Nearchus, sailed to the Persian Gulf, while Alexander and part of
his army crossed the desert of Gedrosia, Craterus having moved by a
shorter route with another part and the invalids. When Alexander again
reached Babylon, his wonderful military career had ended. In B.C. 323,
he died there of a fever, and his great conquests and schemes of a
Græco-Oriental monarchy were dissipated.
Alexander was possessed of uncommon beauty. Plutarch says that Lysippus
made the best portrait of him, “the inclination of the head a little
on one side towards the left shoulder, and his melting eye, having
been expressed by this artist with great exactness.” His likeness was
less fortunately caught by Apelles. He was fair and ruddy, sweet and
agreeable in person. Fond of study, he read much history, poetry,
and general literature. His favorite book was the Iliad, a copy of
which, annotated by Aristotle, with a dagger, always lay under his
pillow. He was at all times surrounded by men of brains, and enjoyed
their conversation. He was abstinent of pleasures, except drinking.
Aristobulus says Alexander did not drink much in quantity, but
enjoyed being merry. Still, the Macedonian “much” was more than wisdom
dictates. He had no weaknesses, except that he over-enjoyed flattery
and was rash in temper.