ON THE WRONG SIDE
The good fortune of Alexander was not yet exhausted; indeed, if it was
to be called good fortune at all, it remained with him in a remarkable
way up to the very end of his career. It was a distinct gain that the
Persian king had abandoned the waiting policy of Memnon, and, in a
haughty self-confidence that, as has been seen, brooked no contradiction,
resolved to give battle to the invader; but there was a yet greater gain
remaining behind. Not only was he going to give battle, but he was going
to give it exactly in the place which would be the least advantageous to
himself and the most advantageous to his antagonist. How this came about
will now be explained.
Alexander called a hurried council of war after the banquet to consider
the intelligence which had been just brought to him. He expounded to his
lieutenants at length the views which he had briefly expressed at the
banqueting hall. If Darius was in the mind to fight, their policy was
to give him the opportunity that he desired as soon as possible. The
suggestion was received with enthusiasm by the majority of the officers
present; but there was a small minority, led by Parmenio, that ventured
to dissent. Parmenio was the oldest and most experienced general in the
army, numbering nearly fifty campaigns. He had often been extraordinarily
successful, and Philip had trusted him implicitly.
“I have never been able to find more than one general,” the king had been
wont to remark, “and that general is Parmenio.” Accordingly his voice had
no little weight. Even Alexander had at least to listen. The substance of
his counsel on the present occasion was this: “Let us fight by all means;
but let us fight on our own ground. If we march to attack Darius on the
plains where he has pitched his camp, we shall be giving him all the
advantage of place; if we wait here till he comes to attack us here, this
advantage will be ours.”
Alexander listened with respectful attention, but was not convinced.
“We cannot afford to wait,” he said, “an invader must attack, not be
attacked. But perhaps we shall be able to combine your policy, which I
allow to be admirable, and mine, which I hold to be necessary.”
The event justified the hope. We may attribute the result to good
fortune; but it was probably due to the extraordinary power of guessing
the probable action of an antagonist, which was one of Alexander’s most
characteristic merits as a general.
To put the thing very briefly, the king’s idea was this. Let Darius
once get the impression that the invaders were hanging back, and in his
overweening confidence in his own superior strength, he would abandon his
favourable position, and precipitate an attack. And this is exactly what
happened.
The Macedonian army was formed into two divisions. With one of them
Parmenio hurried on to occupy the passes from Cilicia into Syria. There
were strong places which might have been easily defended; but it was not
Darius’s policy to hinder the advance of an enemy whom he felt sure of
being able to crush; and the garrisons retired according to order when
the Macedonian force came in sight.
Some little time after, Alexander himself followed with the rest of his
army, taking the same route, and overtaking Parmenio’s force at a place
that was about two days’ march beyond the passes.
And now came the extraordinary change of policy on the part of Darius
which Alexander, with a sagacity that seemed almost more than human,
had divined. The delay of the Macedonian king in advancing from Cilicia
had produced just the impression which apparently it had been intended
to produce. Darius imagined, and the imagination was encouraged by the
flatterers who surrounded him, that his enemy was losing confidence,
that though he had routed the king’s lieutenants, he shrank from meeting
the king himself. And now the one prevailing idea in his mind was that
the invader must not be permitted to escape. Accordingly, though his
ablest counsellors sought to dissuade him, he broke up his encampment on
the level ground which suited so admirably the operations of his huge
army, and hurried to get into the rear of Alexander. He blindly missed
the opportunity that was almost in his hands of cutting Alexander’s army
in two, and took up a position wholly unsuited to the character of his
forces, but which had the advantage, as he thought, of cutting off the
enemy’s retreat.
And now that I have explained the antecedent circumstances of the great
struggle that followed, I must return to the fortunes of Charidemus and
his friend. A rapid march performed under a burning sky had caused not
a little sickness in the army, and Alexander had left his invalids at
Issus, a delightful little town which had the advantage of enjoying both
sea and mountain air. A detachment was told off to protect the place, and
as Charondas was among the sick, Charidemus, though always anxious to be
with the front, was not altogether displeased to be left in command.
But the change in the Persian plan brought terrible disaster on the
occupants of Issus. It was an unwalled town, and, even had it been
strongly fortified, it could not have been defended by the couple of
hundred men under Charidemus’s command. When the Persians appeared, for
it was naturally in their line of march, there was nothing for it but
to capitulate and to trust to the mercy of the conquerors. Unhappily
the Persian temper, always pitiless when the vanquished were concerned,
had been worked up into furious rage by recent disasters. Many of the
prisoners were massacred at once; those whose lives were spared were
cruelly mutilated, to be sent back, when the occasion served, to the camp
of Alexander, as examples of the vengeance which the audacious invaders
of Asia might expect.
Charidemus and his Theban friend, with such other officers as had been
captured, were brought before the king himself. Charondas, happily for
himself, was recognized by a Theban exile, who had attached himself to
the fortunes of Darius, and who happened to be a distant relative of
his own. The man made an effort to save him. “O king,” he said, “this
is a kinsman and a fellow-citizen. I saw him last fighting against the
Macedonians. How he came hither I know not, but I beseech you that you
will at least reserve him for future inquiry. Meanwhile I will answer for
his safe custody.”
Darius, whose naturally mild temper had been overborne by the savage
insistence of the Persian nobles, signified assent; and Charondas, who
had not been asked to renounce his allegiance, or indeed questioned in
any way, did not feel himself constrained in honour to reject the chance
of escape.
No one now remained to be dealt with but Charidemus himself, who as the
chief in command had been reserved to the last.
“Of what city are you?” asked the king.
“Of Argos,” replied the prisoner, who was certainly glad to be able to
make this answer without departing from the truth. To have avowed that he
was a Macedonian would probably have sealed his fate at once.
“And your name?”
“Charidemus.”
The king was evidently struck by this answer. Though he had given the
order for the execution of the unhappy Athenian whose death has been
already related, and, indeed, had been the first to lay hands upon him,
the deed had been out of keeping with his character, and he had already
repented of it.
“Knew you your namesake of Athens?” he went on.
“I knew him well, my lord. He was the guest-friend of my mother’s father.”
Darius turned round to the Persian noble, a scion of one of the great
Seven Houses, who stood behind his seat, and said, “Keep this man safe as
you value your own head.”
The Persian took him by the hand, and led him to the king’s quarters,
where he committed him to the safe keeping of his own personal attendants.
The next morning the army resumed its march, following the same route
that had been taken a few days before, but in an opposite direction, by
Alexander, crossed the Pinarus, a small stream which here runs a short
course, from the mountains to the sea, and encamped on its further or
northern shore.
Though the young Macedonian’s life had been saved for the moment, he
was still in imminent danger. The clemency of the king had not approved
itself to his courtiers, though the habit of obedience had prevented
them from questioning his orders. Indeed all the Greeks about the royal
person were regarded by the Persian nobles with jealousy and suspicion.
So strong were these feelings that Darius, though himself retaining full
confidence in their attachment and fidelity, thought it best to send
them all away before the anticipated battle should take place. They were
accordingly despatched under the protection of a strong detachment of
troops of their own nation to Damascus, whither a great portion of the
royal treasure and of the large retinue which was accustomed to follow
the Persian king had been already sent. Charondas of course accompanied
his Theban kinsman, while Charidemus remained under the immediate
protection of the king.
Alexander, when his scouts brought in the intelligence of the Persian
movement in his own rear, had hardly been able to believe that his
anticipations had been so speedily and so completely fulfilled. That
Darius would leave his position on the plain he had hoped; that he would
crowd his enormous forces into a place where not a third of them could
possibly be used, seemed almost beyond belief. Yet it was undoubtedly
true. A light galley was sent out from the shore to reconnoitre, and what
the sailors saw fully confirmed the news. Across the bay of Issus was a
distance of little more than ten miles, though the way by land between
the two armies may have been nearly double as much, and it was easy to
descry the thronging multitudes of the Persian host, crowding, as far as
could be seen, the whole space between the mountain and the sea. The day
was now far advanced. But Alexander would not lose an hour in seizing the
great opportunity thrown in his way. The soldiers were ordered to take
their evening meal at once, and to be ready to march afterwards.
It is, however, with the preparations of the Persians that we are now
concerned. Informed of the approach of Alexander, and perhaps somewhat
shaken in his confidence by the news, Darius resolved to await the attack
where he was, that is, behind the stream of the Pinarus. His main line
was formed of ninety thousand heavy-armed infantry. A third of these
were Greek mercenaries, and occupied the centre; the rest were Asiatics
armed in Greek fashion. Darius himself took his place in the centre
behind his Greek troops. It was in them, after all, notwithstanding the
jealousy of his nobles, that he put his chief confidence. The cavalry
were massed on the right wing, that end of the line which was nearest
to the sea, for there alone was there any ground suitable for their
action. On the left wing, reaching far up the mountain side, were twenty
thousand light-armed troops who were to throw themselves on the flank
of the Macedonians when they should attempt to cross the stream. Of
these, indeed, nothing more need be said. They did not attempt to make
the movement which had been assigned to them; but remained inactive,
easily held in check by a handful of cavalry which was detached to watch
them. Behind this line of battle, numbering, it will have been seen,
somewhat more than a hundred thousand men, stood a mixed multitude, swept
together from all the provinces of the vast Persian Empire. This mass
of combatants, if they may be so called, already unwieldy, received the
addition of fifty thousand troops, who had been sent to the southern bank
to cover the formation of the line, and who were brought back when this
formation was completed. There was no room for them in the line, and they
were crowded into the endless multitude behind.
It was a novel experience for Charidemus to watch, as he was compelled
to do from his place behind the chariot of Darius, the advance of the
Macedonian army. He saw them halted for a brief rest, and watched the men
as they took their morning meal. Then again he saw them move forward at a
slow pace, preserving an admirable regularity of line. Never before had
he had such an opportunity of observing the solidity of their formation;
never before had he been so impressed with the conviction of their
irresistible strength. Finally, when the front line had come within a
bow-shot of the river he observed Alexander himself gallop forward on his
famous charger, turn with an animated gesture to the line behind him, and
advance at a gallop, followed by the cavalry and light-armed foot, while
the phalanx moved more slowly on, so as not to disturb the regularity of
array on which its strength so much depended.
[Illustration: ALEXANDER AND BUCEPHALUS.]
The terror which this rapid movement caused in the Persian left cannot be
described. It was all the more startling because the Macedonian advance
had before seemed slow and even hesitating. Nothing less than a panic set
in among the troops against whom this sudden attack was delivered. The
heavy-armed Asiatics had the equipment and, in a degree, the discipline
of European troops, but they wanted their coolness and steadfastness.
Before they had felt the thrust of a pike, or the blow of a sword,
before even a missile had reached them, they wavered, broke, and turned
to fly. The huge multitude behind them caught the infection of panic.
So narrow was the space in which they had been crowded together that
movement was almost impossible. A scene of frightful terror and confusion
followed. The fugitives struggled fiercely with each other—had they
shown as much energy in resisting the enemy, they might have changed
the fortune of the day. They pushed aside the weak, they trampled
pitilessly on the fallen. In less than half an hour from the beginning
of the Macedonian charge the whole of the left wing of the Persians was
a disorganized, helpless mass. It is true that the rest of the army
did not show the same shameful cowardice. The Greeks in the centre
stood their ground bravely, and held the division that attacked them in
check for some time. Then assailed in the rear by the Macedonian right
returning from their own easy victory, they cut their way through the
opposing lines and made good their escape. The Persian cavalry on the
right wing also behaved with courage, crossing the river, and charging
the Thessalian horse on the Macedonian left. But the miserable weakness
of the Persian king rendered all their bravery unavailing. When he saw
the line of the Asiatic heavy-armed waver and break, and perceived that
his own person was in danger, he turned precipitately to flee, and his
escort of cavalry followed him, Charidemus being swept away by the
rush, without having a chance to extricate himself. Before long the
ground became so rough that the chariot had to be abandoned, and the king
mounted on horseback, leaving in his hurry his shield and bow behind him.
The flight was continued at the fullest speed to which the horses could
be put till the king felt sure that for the time at least he was safe
from pursuit. He then called a halt, and made his disposition for the
future. His own destination was Thapsacus,[43] where there was a ford
over the Euphrates, and whence he would make his way to Babylon. The
greater part of the escort, of course, accompanied him. The young Persian
noble, Artabazus by name, to whose charge Charidemus had been committed,
was to make his way to Damascus, with instructions for the officers who
had been left there in charge of the treasure and retinue. To the young
Macedonian the king addressed a few words of farewell. “Truly,” he said,
“the Athenian is avenged already. Well; I seem to owe you something
for his sake. Take this ring,” and he drew, as he spoke, a signet-ring
from his finger. “It may help you in need; perhaps, too, you will have
the chance of helping some whom I cannot help. My wife and child are,
doubtless by this time, in your king’s hands, for they can hardly have
escaped. I can trust him. But there are others whom you may find at
Damascus. When they see this ring it will be proof that they may put
faith in you.” Then turning to Artabazus, he went on, “Guard this man’s
life as you would your own.”