“MACEDONIANS,” SAID ALEXANDER, “YOU WILL BE
FACING THE MEDES AND PERSIANS, NATIONS THAT
HAVE LONG ENJOYED A LIFE OF LUXURY. BUT WE
ARE HARDENED BY THE TRIALS OF OUR CAMPAIGN
AND ARE FEARLESS IN THE FACE OF DANGER.”
—ARRIAN
The story of the Gordian knot begins with an old man, a plow, and an eagle. There was a poor farmer named Gordius who was tilling his field one day when an eagle came and settled on the yoke of his plow. The holy bird of Zeus was an astonishing sight to Gordius and he went at once to a local family of prophets to have the omen interpreted. As he neared their village, he saw a girl drawing water at a well and asked if she was one of the soothsayers. She was and when he told her what had happened to him, she said he must return to the same spot and offer a sacrifice to Zeus. Gordius was only a simple farmer and knew nothing of religious rites, so he asked the girl to return with him and conduct the sacrifice. She did and decided to stay to become his wife. In time they had a son named Midas, who grew into a handsome man. The land of Phrygia in those days was torn by strife, but an ancient prophesy foretold that a man with a wagon would arrive who would become king and bring peace. When the people of Phrygia saw young Midas arriving one day with his father’s wagon, they made him king. He soon brought an end to discord in the land and dedicated the family wagon at the temple of Zeus as a thanks offering for the god’s favor. A legend grew up that whoever could undo the knot of the wagon’s yoke would rule all of Asia.
Alexander had heard this story since he was a boy sitting at the feet of Aristotle in the Gardens of Midas in Macedonia. There was an alternate tradition that Midas had originally ruled in Macedonia before leading his people to Asia—a tale supported by the fact that Phrygian was more similar to Greek than to the ancient languages of Asia Minor. In any case, the king could not have resisted the chance to see the famous wagon and try his hand at untying the knot. It was made of rough bark wound so that no ends were visible no matter how carefully Alexander examined the knot. A crowd had grown and the king’s friends began to worry. It would look bad if Alexander left the temple with the task undone, but it was clearly impossible for anyone to untie the Gordian knot.
There are two stories about what happened next. One comes from a biographer and military officer named Aristobulus who accompanied Alexander on his campaign. He says that the king, after carefully considering the knot, pulled out the lynchpin around which the knot was tied and was then able to loosen it. But another tradition, more likely given Alexander’s nature, says that the king promptly pulled out his sword and cut the knot in two. After all, he said, it doesn’t really matter how the knot is undone. Whichever story is true, the king of the gods was clearly pleased with Alexander’s ingenuity because that night there was a great storm of thunder and lightning in the heavens.
The second year of Alexander’s campaign against Persia began with a march through the highlands of central Asia Minor. He left Gordium and traveled several days east to Ancyra, where he was met by an embassy from neighboring Paphlagonia on the southern shores of the Black Sea. They submitted to him, but asked him not to lead his army into their land. Since Paphlagonia was a mountainous country of small villages with few riches besides timber, the king agreed and told them they were now subject to Calas, satrap of the Hellespont region.
From Ancyra, the Macedonians turned south back toward the Mediterranean. Alexander crossed the Halys River and after many days came to the highlands of Cappadocia. Our sources say little of this part of the campaign—it must have been brutally hot—except that the invaders were victorious. Then several weeks after leaving Gordium, the Macedonian army arrived at the Taurus Mountains separating the uplands of Asia Minor from the Mediterranean coast. The only way through this barrier was an infamous pass known as the Cilician Gates, a narrow defile barely wide enough for a handful of men to march side by side. Alexander ordered his soldiers to make camp in a large field on the north side of the pass. Xenophon’s army had also camped here a few decades before, as the king would have known from his reading. This was the entrance to the fertile land of Cilicia and the gateway to Syria. If the Macedonians could force their way through, the eastern Mediterranean coast would be open to them.
The Persian satrap of Cilicia was Arsames, who had been present at the conference before the battle of the Granicus, at which Memnon had advised a scorched-earth policy to hinder the Macedonians. Arsames now took this advice to heart and began to burn everything in Alexander’s path. In his eagerness to set fire to the countryside, he posted only a small guard to hold the Cilician Gates. Never one to miss an opportunity, the king left Parmenion with the main body of the army and led a small force himself by night to the pass. The defenders panicked at the sight of Alexander and fled south as fast as they could in the darkness. By morning, the Macedonians commanded the most strategic position in Asia Minor.
The satrap was now in a panic himself and rushed to burn his seaside capital of Tarsus before Alexander could arrive. The king heard of this from scouts and would have none of it. He pushed his advance force at full speed down the valley of the Cydnus River to Tarsus and was at the gates of the city just in time to see Arsames running for his life toward Persia. To make sure that he controlled the road to the east, the king immediately sent Parmenion to guard the passes from Syria into Cilicia. Now, at last, the Macedonians could rest from their travels. In the weeks since Alexander had left Gordium, he and his weary army had marched hundreds of miles over deserts, mountains, and volcanic wastelands, but they were finally back on the Mediterranean coast. The king was now ruler not only of Macedonia and Greece, but all of Asia Minor as well.
The plains of Cilicia were like an oven when Alexander reached Tarsus. The king was so hot that the first thing he did when he arrived in town was strip off his clothes in full view of the army and plunge naked into the Cydnus River. Although the seaside plain was broiling, the river was fed by melting snow from the mountains and was ice cold. The king must have known that the Cydnus was famed for its healing properties, especially for swollen muscles and gout. But as soon as Alexander was immersed in the water, his limbs began to cramp, the blood drained from his face, and the cold penetrated into his bones. He had probably been sick before this, perhaps with a bronchial infection or even malaria, but the sudden shock to his body left him paralyzed as his friends carried him from the water. To his watching army, he must have seemed like a dead man as they rushed him to his tent.
The next few days he hovered between life and death. His body burned with a fever that threatened to kill him as he drifted in and out of consciousness. For his soldiers, this was a fearful turn of events. They were far from home in a hostile land with the Great King marching toward them at the head of an enormous army. Now more than ever, they needed Alexander. If he died, how would they get home alive? How could they return across Asia Minor with the Persians in pursuit? They were torn with pity both for their king and themselves as they stood waiting outside his tent.
The physicians that accompanied the expedition had no idea how to treat Alexander and were afraid even to try. If the king died under their care, they would surely be blamed for his death and suffer the consequences. The only doctor who dared to offer a curewas Philip from the land of Acarnania in northwest Greece. He had been a trusted physician at the Macedonian court since Alexander was a boy and had treated the young king for any number of ailments over the years. In one of his lucid moments, Alexander listened as Philip explained the treatment he was proposing. It was a strong purge that would make the king even sicker before it worked, so there was great danger in the procedure. But, in the end, if the potion was successful, his health would be restored.
Greek medicine was based on the concept of balance. Hippocrates of Cos had taught that the different fluids or humors of the body—namely blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm—maintained a natural equilibrium in a healthy person. When one or more of these humors was in excess, it was the task of the skilled physician to restore balance to the body. This could be done in many ways, but the most frequent was therapy by opposites, such as dosing the sufferer of a cold with peppers or applying cooling oils to hot rashes. The opium poppy was also a frequent ingredient in Greek pharmacology for its soothing effect.
Alexander listened to Philip’s proposed therapy with the ear of a student who had been trained by Aristotle and practiced some medicine himself. He knew the purge was dangerous, but he also knew that his army was in grave danger every day he lay helpless in bed. Darius had surely heard of his infirmity through his network of spies and was hastening his plans for attack. The king knew he had to get well quickly or die trying. He ordered Philip to prepare the potion and bring it to him as soon as it was ready.
At this moment, a note arrived from Parmenion bearing a brief message: Beware of Philip! I have word that Darius has bribed him to poison you. As with the earlier affair involving Alexander of Lyncestis, a warning from Parmenion of treachery among his friends put the king in a difficult position. He had known Philip his whole life, but any man could be corrupted, especially with a kingly bribe. He also remembered that Philip’s people in Acarnania had been rebels and fought against the Macedonians at Chaeronea. Was the physician now planning to kill Alexander and escape across the Persian lines to collect his reward? On the other hand, this could be a trick by Parmenion to discourage Alexander from treatment and hasten his death. The old general would be the natural choice as the next army leader and even as king. With Alexander out of the way, he could perhaps strike a deal with Darius and withdraw back to Macedonia, keeping the rich provinces of Asia Minor as part of the bargain. It was also possible that Darius was encouraging false suspicions by Alexander of his friends. All the Macedonians knew that the Great King had offered a huge reward to anyone who would kill Alexander. Who would be in a better position to do the deed than a trusted doctor?
Philip, unaware of the message from Parmenion, now returned to Alexander’s tent bearing the potion in a cup. What happened next provides a marvelous insight into Alexander’s character. He took the cup and began to drink the medicine while at the same moment handing Philip the note from Parmenion. As he drained the cup to the last drop, he watched the physician read the message. The expression on Philip’s face did not change, he merely shrugged and told the king that the medicine would quickly take effect. Alexander lay back on his bed and was soon unconscious as his breathing became more and more labored. Philip remained by his bed, massaging the king with oils and waiting as the medicine spread through his body. After many hours, Alexander began to stir. His fever slowly eased while the king grew stronger in both mind and body. After three days he walked out of his tent to the deafening cheers of the entire Macedonian army.
There was little time to spare before he faced Darius on the battlefield, but Alexander spent the next two weeks securing his hold on Cilicia. One of his first actions was to take over the imperial Persian mint in Tarsus and order the engravers to strike a new silver coin. On its front was the head of young Hercules, the king’s ancestor, wearing his customary lion’s skin. On the reverse was Zeus seated like the Semitic god Baal—a blending of Greek and Oriental themes that was to become a hallmark of Alexander’s new empire. The silver currency was most useful to the king as payment for his troops. Coinage was also important propaganda since the money would quickly find its way to markets and brothels throughout the eastern Mediterranean. If anyone wondered who had issued it, all he had to do was read Alexander’s name imprinted next to the image of Zeus.
The king then marched for a day southwest along the coast to Anchiale, once a great city in an outlying kingdom of the Assyrian Empire. There local guides showed him a monument left by the Assyrian king Sardanapalus four hundred years earlier. On it was the carved relief of the eastern king snapping his fingers along with an inscription in cuneiform letters. The guides were quick to translate it for Alexander: “Sardanapalus, son of Anakyndaraxes, built Anchiale and Tarsus in a single day. But you, stranger, eat, drink, and make love—for the lives of other men compared to mine are not worth even this.”
The this referred to was the snapping of the Assyrian king’s fingers. Although Alexander suffered from no lack of self-confidence, he had to admire the cheek of Sardanapalus. He sent a copy of the translation back to Aristotle, who said the epitaph belonged on the tomb of a bull.
Just a few hours farther down the coast was the wealthy city of Soli, where Alexander extorted a huge ransom from the citizens in exchange for the privilege of remaining alive. He used the city as his headquarters for the next week while he and his men scoured the nearby mountains for rebellious Cilician highlanders. When he returned to Soli, a dispatch was waiting from the west informing the king that his troops had finally taken the remaining fortresses inside Halicarnassus, along with the nearby town of Myndus, the island of Cos, and a number of other settlements in Caria. His adopted mother Queen Ada could now rule as satrap throughout her native land. The good news from the Aegean would not last, but for the moment the king was happy to celebrate his victories with sacrifices to the gods, along with athletic and musical contests for his army.
Alexander had already ordered Parmenion ahead, but now he sent Philotas forward to the town of Mallus while he himself made a short detour to the coastal settlement of Magarsa to sacrifice at the local temple of Athena. The next day he caught up with Philotas at Mallus and offered more sacrifices, this time to Amphilochus, a celebrated veteran of the Trojan War. The king knew a decisive battle was coming and so prayed at the shrine of every god and hero on his march toward Darius.
However, not every Macedonian believed that heaven would favor them in the approaching fight. Alexander’s childhood friend and campaign treasurer Harpalus suddenly fled to Greece along with a rascal named Tauriscus. The ancient sources never give his motive explicitly, but it is reasonable to think that Harpalus absconded with as much money as he could carry.
The plains of Cilicia are separated from Syria by a narrow but rugged range of mountains. Alexander knew from reading Xenophon that there was a pass called the Gates at the southern end of these mountains that served as the main entry into Syria. Accordingly, he moved his army rapidly down the coast past the town of Issus and over the Pinarus River to the small city of Myriandrus near the pass. He heard from his scouts that Darius and his army were on the other side of the mountains waiting for him. He also learned that the Great King had carefully chosen a broad plain there for the upcoming battle. It was near the Orontes River, just north of the future site of Antioch, and was the perfect location for war from the Persian point of view—open grasslands where the Great King could use his superior numbers, matchless cavalry, and terrifying battle chariots to his greatest advantage.
The only problem for Darius was that Alexander was not walking into the trap. Darius knew his enemy had been delayed in Cilicia by illness, but his scouts reported that the Macedonians had headed west toward Soli when their king recovered, then spent a week hunting mountain tribesmen and playing athletic games. Darius began to worry that Alexander, in spite of his reputation, was afraid to face him in battle. His Persian advisors urged the Great King to carry the war into Cilicia and crush the Macedonians there. However, a refugee from the Macedonian court named Amyntas warned Darius against such a change in plans, urging him to wait for Alexander at the chosen battle site.
Darius was no fool and was a far better general than many ancient historians claim, but he was in a difficult position. He could not afford to linger in Syria with his army while Alexander waited just over the mountains. His power ultimately depended on his ability to project military force anywhere in his empire at any time. If he seemed afraid to face Alexander, his control over his vast kingdom could collapse. He therefore ordered his army to march into Cilicia, but not by the southern pass. He believed the Macedonians were still near Tarsus and so moved through a northern pass into the plains above the town of Issus.
Alexander, meanwhile, too devoted to Xenophon’s memoirs for his own good, had already moved beyond Issus in ignorance of other entries into Syria. He was not, in fact, afraid to face Darius there even if the Persians had chosen the site of battle. The Macedonian king had complete confidence in himself and his men to win, no matter the circumstances. He was at the southern pass preparing to cross the mountains when his scouts reported that the Persians were now behind him on the narrow coastal plain near Issus. Alexander thought the scouts surely must be mistaken and sent men back to verify the report. Meanwhile Darius had arrived in Cilicia only to hear that the Macedonian army was now behind him. It was a perfect muddle for both kings and not at all what either had planned. Darius was in such a bad mood that he rounded up some injured Macedonians left behind at Issus to recuperate and tortured them, cutting off both their hands for good measure. He had good reason to be upset. He had needlessly exchanged the broad plains of Syria for a confining strip of land between the mountains and sea.
Like Darius, Alexander immediately recognized that the new situation seriously compromised the Persians. As with the great sea battle at Salamis in the previous century in which a smaller Athenian navy drew a larger Persian fleet into a narrow strait, the fight on the plain of Issus would diminish any advantage in numbers. Even so, it would be a very tough fight. The Persian lines might not be broad, but they would be deep and filled with proven soldiers the Great King had summoned from the many nations of his empire.
Darius had begun gathering his army soon after the battle of Granicus over a year earlier. The recruitment of troops did not move swiftly in the Persian Empire, but once an army was assembled it was an awesome sight to behold. The Great King ordered troops from his whole realm to gather at Babylon in Mesopotamia. Although the entire army was not at his disposal, the force was considered sufficient to deal with the Macedonians. Some ancient sources say the Persian army numbered six hundred thousand men. This is surely an exaggeration typical of Greek historians on the winning side, but the army was large enough so that the muster of nations at Babylon took a whole day to pass before the Great King’s eyes.
The native Persians who gathered were brave troops who proudly pledged their lives to defend the honor and life of the Great King. Besides his countrymen, Darius also summoned infantry and cavalry from the Medes and Tapurians to the north, as well as Armenians from the Caucasus mountains. The wild Hyrcani from the southern shore of the Caspian Sea supplied a host of cavalry, as did the Barcani from central Asia, who fought with double-edged axes. The Derbices, from the same lands as the Barcani, fought with bronze and iron-tipped spears, though some preferred to use wooden pikes hardened by fire. Also present were thousands of Greek mercenaries—tough, experienced troops who were not at all afraid of the Macedonians. These professional soldiers, along with the native Persians, would form the heart of the Great King’s battle formation. Many other nations from throughout the empire were also present, though their names are not recorded.
Aside from Persian soldiers there were countless attendants, slaves, cooks, physicians, wagon drivers, scribes, priests, and eunuchs on hand as support staff for the Great King. According to Persian custom, Darius was also accompanied by his family on the march, including his mother, wife, and three children. They traveled in grand style and camped in lavishly decorated tents full of magnificent treasures. The opulence of the Great King’s surroundings on campaign was scarcely less extravagant than if he were in his palace at Persepolis.
It began to rain on Alexander and his men that night. Soon the entire army was soaked to the skin and shivering in the November wind. They were wet, cold, and trapped on a narrow plain with the strongest army in the world only a few miles away waiting to destroy them. The sole path of retreat was behind them, through the Gates into Syria, but this would take them only deeper into enemy territory. Like their king, the Macedonian army recognized that they had to fight at Issus and win or they would all perish.
When the storm lifted, the Macedonians could see thousands of Persian campfires in the distance like stars in the sky. Alexander ordered his men to eat a hearty dinner and prepare to leave before dawn. While his soldiers tried to sleep, the king climbed a nearby hill and looked out at the vast Persian army. This was what he had dreamed of all his life, but now that the moment was here at last, he did know fear. Not for his life or for his brave men, but fear that something would go wrong. He spent the night sacrificing to the local gods, praying that they would be kind to him.
While it was still dark, Alexander led the army toward Issus. He stopped his men periodically on the march to rest and accustom themselves to the sight of the enemy spread out across the plain from the mountains to the sea. As they neared the Pinarus River, he drew them up in final battle order. On his far right against the foothills he placed Parmenion’s son Nicanor with a unit of foot soldiers. Next to them were Macedonian cavalry, then thousands of infantry stretching almost a mile across the center of the battlefield, and finally the elite Thessalian cavalry next to the sea. Parmenion was in overall command of the left side of the line, while Alexander positioned himself on the right toward the center. It was a classic formation that he had used at the Granicus—swift-moving cavalry on the wings to encircle the enemy, and the mass of the infantry in the center to stab and slash their way through the Persian lines.
Across the river tens of thousands of Persians were drawn up in deep formation with archers in front and the rest of the infantry extending across the whole line to the sea, where Darius had placed all his cavalry to sweep behind the Macedonians. He also stationed some foot soldiers on the heights above Alexander’s right wing to descend at an opportune moment. The Great King himself was in the center of the army with Greek mercenaries and his best Persian troops at his side.
As the Macedonians advanced the final mile, the Persians remained in position on the far side of the river. The banks of the Pinarus were smooth on the side where Alexander’s men were approaching, but steep once they crossed the river. It was the same plan the Great King’s generals had used at the battle of the Granicus—force the Macedonians to attack across the river and up a high embankment. But even though the strategy had failed before, the Persians, while superior in numbers, were again taking a defensive stand against an aggressive enemy.
Just before they were in range of enemy arrows, Alexander halted his army and rode down the entire Macedonian line encouraging his men. He not only cheered on his generals and officers, but the common soldiers as well. He called these by name and reminded them of their bravery in past battles. A mighty shout rose up from the Macedonian army that echoed across the plain. Alexander then ordered them to advance at a run as he turned his horse toward the river and led them into battle.
Alexander and his companions charged at such speed that they were underneath the Persian arrows before the archers could take aim. They hit the river at a gallop and broke through the enemy formation, striking panic into the front-line troops. The Persians near Alexander began to pull back in terror as the Macedonians cut through their defenses. But suddenly the Greek mercenaries fighting for Darius struck hard against the Macedonian center and opened a gap in Alexander’s lines, tearing into his infantry. They pushed the Macedonians back into the river and killed many, all while the two sides shouted the vilest insults at each other in Greek.
While the center of the Persian line was holding, the Great King’s cavalry near the sea rushed across the river and pushed back the horsemen from Thessaly. The fight on horseback along the coast was unrelenting as neither side gave way. Meanwhile Alexander’s right wing, the one part of his line that was actually advancing against the Persians, managed to break through and circle around behind the Greek mercenaries. This was the moment when the battle turned. Unable to fight both in front and behind, the mercenaries fell back. The Persian center then began to collapse and the cavalry, seeing their infantry lines crumble, turned and fled back across the river, riding over their own men to escape.
Darius watched in horror as the unthinkable unfolded all around him. But even though he realized the Macedonians would win the battle, he refused to withdraw. He stood atop his war chariot ready to strike down any enemy who approached. Alexander could not resist such a perfect target. If he could slay Darius with his own hand, not only would the war be over but his glory, like that of Achilles, would never die. As Alexander rushed toward Darius, one of the Great King’s brothers led his horsemen between the two kings. But he was cut down. Atizyes, former satrap of Phrygia, died defending his lord, as did Rheomithres, who had fought bravely at the Granicus, along with Sabaces, satrap of Egypt. As the Macedonians closed in, it may have been Darius himself who slashed at Alexander, wounding him in the thigh with his sword. Even so, the Great King was now cut off from his army and about to die.
What happened next is frozen in time, preserved in an exquisitely detailed mosaic found buried beneath the ashes of Mount Vesuvius in the Roman town of Pompeii. On it we see Alexander charging from the left, bare-headed but wearing a breastplate with a Gorgon’s head staring out to turn his enemies to stone. With his spear he skewers a Persian guard standing between him and Darius. The ground is littered with the dead and dying of both sides. A lone, barren tree stands in the background. A dark brown horse bleeds to death in the center. A Persian soldier taking his final breath as he lies on the ground sees his own reflection in a polished shield. A forest of Persian spears rises as men rush forward to save their king, who at last has turned to flee the battlefield in his chariot. But the most haunting image of all is the face of Darius, who has locked eyes with Alexander and stares at him, not in fear or anger, but in astonishment.
Our written sources paint much the same picture, with Darius retreating at the last minute before the irresistible force of Alexander. Darius then broke through the chaos of battle and fled with the remains of his army eastward across the mountains. Alexander and his troops vainly pursued Darius for miles, riding out of the battlefield over gullies filled with the bodies of dead Persians. In all, many thousands of Persians were slain, while the Macedonian losses, though heavy, were far fewer. Alexander was bitterly disappointed that Darius had escaped, but as his companions surrounded him to offer their congratulations, he could rejoice that at twenty-three years of age, he had just defeated the Great King of Persia.
When Alexander arrived at the camp of Darius, it was already late at night. He was exhausted from the battle and pursuit, in addition to not having slept for two days. He could see his soldiers looting the camp and portioning out the Persian women they captured. His men had reserved the royal tent of the Great King himself for Alexander. He entered this magnificent enclosure and was struck immediately by the superb furniture and treasures scattered throughout. “So this is what it means to be a king,” he marveled. The plates, basins, and even the bathtub were all made of gold, while the fragrance of rich perfumes and spices filled the air. The royal Macedonian pages had prepared a banquet for him with captured Persian food and had readied a hot bath. Alexander removed his dusty armor and went to the tub, remarking to one of his friends that he would like to wash off the sweat of battle in the bath of Darius. “No,” his companion corrected, “rather it is the property of Alexander.”
After bathing, the king and his companions were settling down to eat when they heard wailing from a nearby section of the tent. Inquiring who was making such a horrible noise, Alexander was told that it was the mother of Darius, along with the Great King’s wife, two virgin daughters, and young son. They had torn their garments and were weeping for Darius, whom they believed to be dead. Alexander sent one of his companions, Leonnatus, to calm them. He arrived at the entrance to their quarters, but was unsure if he should enter without being announced. Finally, he pulled back the flaps and came before the women, who cried out in fear thinking that he had come to kill them. They begged him to allow them at least to prepare the body of Darius properly for burial before they were slain. Leonnatus assured them that the Great King was still alive and that Alexander meant them no harm. He was, in fact, insistent that they be treated with the utmost respect as royal ladies. The women finally calmed down and expressed their gratitude for the king’s kindness.
The next morning, Alexander, accompanied by his closest friend Hephaestion, paid a visit to the Persian women personally to reassure them of their safety. When the two entered their quarters, the women fell on their faces before Hephaestion, thinking he was king as he was the taller of the pair, much to the amusement of Alexander. The Great King’s mother, Sisyngambris, was profuse in her apologies once the translator had explained the mistake, but Alexander was reassuring. He raised the elderly woman from the ground, addressing her as “mother,” and remarked that Hephaestion too was an Alexander—a reflection of the teaching both had received from Aristotle as boys that the truest friend was another self.
Ancient writers made much of the treatment of Darius’ women as an illustration of Alexander’s kindly nature. While this may well be true, his benevolence was also eminently practical. By protecting the women of the Great King’s household, Alexander took on the symbolic role of son, husband, and father in the eyes of his new subjects. As with his adoption by Queen Ada in Caria, the Macedonian king was using family ties to build power. He decked the queen mother with jewelry and assured her that her dignity would in no way be lessened under his rule. To the wife of Darius, who was also the Great King’s sister, he promised that she would enjoy all former benefits of her station as queen and would be touched by no one, least of all him. He assured her that her two maiden daughters would be inviolate and would be granted dowries from his own treasury when the time came for them to wed. He then called the young son of Darius to him and kissed the boy, who was not frightened at all. Alexander admired the young lad’s courage and swore that he would raise him as his own son. It was all very moving, but from this day forward the family of Darius knew they were hostages of Alexander.
The following day, after he had visited the wounded, Alexander called a formation of his entire army arrayed in their finest armor. He conducted a funeral for those who had fallen in battle, then honored the worthiest of the survivors with special citations and prizes equal to their bravery. The king appointed one of his bodyguards, Balacrus, as satrap of Cilicia and promoted other of his companions to new offices. Alexander was in such a forgiving mood after his victory that he even reduced the fine he had previously levied on the city of Soli. He also erected altars of thanksgiving to Zeus, Athena, and Hercules, offering grand sacrifices to these, his favorite gods. As a lasting monument to his victory, he now founded the first city of his campaign—-Alexandria, near Issus. While still a teenager, he had renamed a Thracian city for himself following his first military success, but this first of many Alexandrias was a new kind of city—a Macedonian settlement of Greek culture in a foreign land. Founded in a strategic location near the entry to Syria, it was an important first step in spreading Hellenic civilization, which the king would repeat all the way to India.
Alexander had won glory and honor at Issus, but not the vast amounts of gold he had hoped for since Darius had left the bulk of his treasury at the Syrian city of Damascus, several days’ travel from the battlefield. The cache from Darius’ tent was all fine and good, but Alexander needed a great deal more if he was to pay for the rest of his campaign. He therefore sent Parmenion with a squadron of more than a thousand Thessalian cavalry at a fast gallop to Damascus to seize the treasury of the Great King before the Persians could get there. He may not have liked the old man, but Alexander knew Parmenion could accomplish this dangerous mission deep into enemy territory.
The Persian satrap at Damascus was meanwhile considering his future very carefully. When he heard that Alexander had been victorious at Issus, he knew the Macedonians would be coming for the treasure. He therefore decided it was in his best interest to surrender the riches of Darius to Alexander in hope of preferred treatment. He sent a messenger to the Macedonians stating his intentions, but Parmenion immediately suspected a trap and headed into Syria with great caution. He crossed the Gates and moved south with his cavalry in spite of the winter cold through mountains and deserts until he at last arrived at the oasis town of Damascus.
The Syrian city was the center of Persian government in this arid region. It was also a wealthy town in its own right, known for its figs and for its caravan trade east to Mesopotamia and south to Arabia. The crafty satrap had planned not only to surrender the Great King’s riches to Alexander, but also the many Persian guests and hostages who had been entrusted to him by Darius. To facilitate this exchange, he told the resident Persians that they would be fleeing with him to Babylon along with the treasure of Darius. Thousands of mules were hastily loaded with all they could carry, then the enormous caravan set out through the gates of the city.
Snow had fallen that night. It was so cold that the attendants for the pack animals pulled out military uniforms from the baggage to cover themselves on the journey, while the crowd of frightened refugees shivered and hoped they could escape before the Macedonians arrived. It was at that moment that Parmenion and his cavalry troop appeared on the horizon. The general saw a column of men dressed as Persian soldiers and hastily arranged his men for battle, assuming they were in for a tough fight. The mule drivers and refugees saw the line of horsemen charging them and ran for their lives. Countless riches soon lay scattered in the snow and brambles along the trail. When Parmenion discovered that it was not an army he had attacked, he ordered his men to round up the treasure and refugees. He offered the mule drivers the choice of guiding the baggage animals back to Alexander or being killed on the spot.
After many days under the watchful eye of Parmenion, the treasure caravan reached the Macedonian camp. Alexander was thrilled as the riches were unloaded—decorated vases, war chariots, royal tents, five hundred pounds of silver, a beautifully decorated box that the king henceforth used to hold his favorite edition of Homer’s poetry, and enough gold to pay his army for many months to come. But also among the precious cargo were the Persian refugees, who now became pawns of the Macedonian king. These included the wife and three maiden daughters of the previous Great King, Artaxerxes IV, as well as a brother of Darius himself. There were also two terrified envoys from Athens who had been dealing secretly with Darius in spite of their city’s official support for Alexander’s campaign. Four stoic Spartans were also captured, though their city had made no pledges to the Macedonians.
The chief prize in the eyes of Alexander was Barsine, widow of his rival Memnon of Rhodes. She, along with her children, were presented to the king, expecting little mercy from Alexander. To her surprise, Alexander treated her with great kindness. Barsine had been a young refugee in the court of Philip years earlier when her father and Memnon had sought sanctuary there. She had probably known Alexander in Macedonia and the two may have been friends. There was certainly something unusual about Barsine, as she was the first woman Alexander fell in love with. He did not marry her, but the two began a long affair. She was by all accounts a brilliant, beautiful, and charming woman. She was Persian by birth, but had received an excellent Greek education and spoke the language well. In time, she would give birth to Alexander’s first child, a son named Hercules. The traitorous satrap of Damascus, however, had no such happy ending. One of the Persian refugees cut off his head in the night and escaped with it as a gift for Darius.
While Alexander had been preparing to meet the Persians on the battlefield, the agents of the Great King in the Aegean had been busy. Memnon’s nephew Pharnabazus had captured several important islands and retaken Halicarnassus. He then sailed to the island of Siphnus for a clandestine meeting with an old enemy of Alexander—Agis, king of Sparta. Agis had arrived in a single trireme to meet with the Persians and seal a pact that would strengthen the second front against Alexander. The Spartan king received plentiful funds from Pharnabazus along with ten ships to conduct naval operations against the Macedonians.
But just as the two were celebrating their new alliance, news arrived that Alexander had defeated the Great King at Issus. Pharnabazus was dumbfounded at the report and immediately set sail for Chios off the Asia Minor coast to secure this important Greek island against rebellion. Agis was grimly undeterred by Alexander’s victory and continued with his plan. He hired sailors for his new ships and sent his brother to Crete to establish a new naval base there. Meanwhile Agis laid the groundwork for an uprising in Greece.
Events in the Aegean did not escape Alexander, but he was faced with a difficult decision at this point in the campaign. Darius had been humiliated at Issus, but was not defeated. The army he had gathered in Syria represented only a small portion of the forces available to him. Given enough time, the Great King could summon a much larger force to defeat the Macedonians on the battlefield. Alexander knew his only chance of stopping Darius from building a new army was to chase him relentlessly into the heart of his empire. But this was a dangerous proposition given that the Greeks were rebellious and the Persians still controlled most of the Mediterranean. If he pursued Darius at this point, he might lose everything he had conquered in the west.
As Alexander weighed his options, it seemed best to continue his plan to seize the Mediterranean coast of Lebanon, Palestine, and Egypt while his generals in Macedonia and Asia Minor tried to contain the Persian threat closer to home. He knew he would have to face Darius at some point as the Great King could not allow him to ravage his empire unpunished. Darius would need at least a year to gather his army from the four corners of his realm to face Alexander, but when that day came it would be the greatest battle the world had ever known.
Alexander broke camp at Issus and marched over the Gates into Syria, then south toward the coast of Lebanon. He passed the ancient Greek trading colony at al-Mina near the mouth of the Orontes River, then traveled along the narrow plain between the sea and mountains until he arrived at the Phoenician town of Marathus. But the Phoenician ships of the Great King’s fleet were not there to oppose him because they were busy in the Aegean. The local king of Marathus had in fact left his son in charge of the town while he served Darius in the west. The prince knew it was pointless to stand against Alexander, so he met the king before the city gates and bestowed upon him a golden crown, the traditional token of submission. The young man also surrendered the nearby island of Aradus and the city’s inland possessions.
Alexander was pleased with the reception he received and stayed at Marathus several days. While he was there two envoys from Darius arrived with a letter from the Great King. Alexander took the document into his private quarters and read it to himself. The contents of the letter vary according to different ancient historians, but it is clear that Darius was willing to make a deal. He began by chastising Alexander for invading his empire under no provocation. He pointed out that the Persians and Macedonians were old friends, though Philip had shown a notable lack of respect toward Persia now continued by his son. The outcome of the recent battle in Alexander’s favor was the unfortunate result of some god’s mysterious intervention, though the Macedonians could not count on heaven’s blessing in the future. Even so, the Great King was merciful and invited Alexander to conclude a peace treaty with Persia. If he withdrew, he would grant him sovereignty over all the territory of Asia Minor from the Aegean to the Halys River near Gordium. In addition, he would pay Alexander a generous ransom for the return of his captive family. All this could be Alexander’s if he would cease his invasion of the Great King’s realm. If he were to reject this generous offer, it was understood that Darius would unleash his army against the Macedonians at a time and place of his own choosing and destroy them.
Alexander knew that if he presented this letter to Parmenion or any of his officers, they would surely rejoice. Darius was offering them everything they had ever dreamed of. They would hold the richest parts of Asia Minor including all the Greek cities of the Aegean. The Persians would recognize their conquests and withdraw their navy. Macedonia would have grown in their lifetimes from a beleaguered minor kingdom to an empire ruling all the lands from the Adriatic to the highlands of Anatolia. They would all be rich men and could return home as heroes.
But Alexander had to find a way to convince his men to continue the war. He had tasted victory and would not settle for less than the entire Persian Empire as his own. He saw himself and his army marching along the Nile, dining among the gardens of Babylon, covering themselves with gold at Persepolis, and marveling at the wonders of distant India. But how to convince the Macedonians? The plan he devised was a favorite tactic of politicians throughout the ages—he lied. The king composed a forgery of Darius’ letter full of unreasonable demands, insults toward the Macedonians, and no mention at all of territorial concessions. When he presented it to his council of advisors, they took the bait and angrily rejected the Great King’s terms out of hand.
Alexander then composed his own letter to Darius, skillfully crafted to provoke the Great King in every possible way. He began with the condescending heading “King Alexander to Darius—-Greetings,” omitting the Persian ruler’s titles as a very deliberate insult. He then went on to blame Darius for the current war since his ancestors had started it when they invaded Greece at Marathon in the previous century. He then implicated the Persians in the murder of his father and even accused Darius of collusion in the assassination of the previous Persian king. Alexander declared himself Lord of Asia, saying he would gladly return the Great King’s family to him without ransom only if Darius would appear before him as a lowly suppliant. Finally, he warned Darius to surrender immediately or he would pursue him to the ends of the earth.
Two days of marching along the coast brought Alexander to the important Phoenician trading center of Byblos. This ancient port had enjoyed commercial relations with Greece since the time of the Trojan War. Byblos had long been a shipping center for Egyptian goods, including papyrus, so that the Greeks who first used this material for scrolls called their books biblia after the town (thus our word Bible).
South of Byblos was Berytus (Beirut) on a prominent headland, then the famous Phoenician port of Sidon halfway down the coast of Lebanon. The people of Sidon despised the Persians, especially after their rebellious town had been sacked by the Great King’s armies just a few years earlier. The Persian puppet ruler was forced by the populace to open the gates to Alexander, who promptly deposed the hated ruler and appointed his best friend Hephaestion to find a replacement. Hephaestion was staying in the town at the home of two distinguished young men to whom he offered the crown in turn. They politely declined, explaining that it was the custom of their city only to be ruled by a king of noble blood. Alexander’s friend then commissioned them to find a suitable candidate.
Living on the edge of town was a poor man named Abdalonymus (or in Phoenician, Abd-elonim, “servant of the gods”) who was distantly related to the royal family of Sidon. His honesty in business dealings among his crafty Phoenician neighbors had left him only his tiny hut with a struggling garden. He was so busy that day clearing the weeds from his vegetables that he didn’t hear the two young men approach until they hailed him, calling him king. Abdalonymus had no time for jokes and dismissed the pair, but they explained that he needed to change his dirty clothes if he was going to rule Sidon. The gardener thought they were crazy and turned back to his weeds, but the young men finally convinced him by fearful oaths that their message was true. Abdalonymus hadn’t even heard of Alexander and had no idea the town was occupied by Macedonian troops, but he put on his best clothes and went to the palace to meet the man who had driven off the Persians. Alexander liked the man at once and saw in him the paradigm of a just ruler in spite of—or perhaps because of—his dirty fingernails and sun-scorched brow. He happily anointed Abdalonymus the new king of Sidon.
A day’s march south along the Lebanese coast was Tyre, the most powerful and important of all the Phoenician cities. It was an ancient rival of Sidon and one of the richest trading centers in the whole Mediterranean. The main part of the city was located on an island well offshore and surrounded by walls more than a hundred feet high, making it virtually untouchable by any invading army. It was also the most vital naval base for the Persians in the western part of their empire.
As Alexander approached the city, he was met by Tyrian envoys who welcomed him to their city with provisions for his army and a golden crown of submission. They regretted that their king, Azemilcus, was not there to greet him personally, but he was indisposed while serving with the Persian fleet in the Aegean—all a regrettable misunderstanding, of course. Alexander thanked them courteously for the supplies and the crown, then casually mentioned that he would like to offer sacrifice to his ancestor Hercules at his famous temple on their island. He had arrived at Tyre just at the start of the celebrated festival of Melqart—the Phoenician equivalent of Hercules—along with religious pilgrims from as far away as Carthage. The Tyrian envoys took council together, then informed the Macedonian king that it was unfortunately impossible to allow him into the city at the moment as this might seem a provocation to the Persians. However, there was a very nice temple of Hercules on the mainland opposite their city that he was most welcome to visit.
Both parties in this discussion knew they were not really talking about a simple act of sacrifice. The Tyrian envoys realized that if they allowed Alexander inside their walls, he would take over the city and post a garrison there. Alexander knew that Tyre was not really submitting to him but merely buying time to see if the naval offensive of Darius in the Aegean would force him to return to the west. The merchant rulers of Tyre did not particularly care if Alexander or Darius won the war. They wanted only to maintain their very profitable trading dominance in the Mediterranean as they had for over a thousand years, with as little outside interference as possible.
Alexander was normally able to control his fierce temper, but he did not handle rejection well. He leapt up from his chair and vented the full measure of his wrath on the Tyrian envoys: “Do you really think you are safe from me because you live on an island? Do you despise this army of foot soldiers so much? I am going to show you that you do not live on an island at all! You will either welcome me into your city or I will besiege it!”
The envoys were terrified and returned to their city with his message. The Tyrian elders discussed the situation and concluded that they were safe from Alexander. Their city was half a mile from the coast, separated by deep water and protected by powerful currents and violent winds. They were far out of range of catapults and other artillery on the mainland. The walls surrounding their town had never been breached, not even by invaders who had besieged the city for years. The Macedonians had no navy to prevent the Tyrians from coming and going in their own ships as they pleased. Their visitors from Carthage also promised they would provide any supplies or help Tyre might need. Let Alexander try to take their city—they would laugh at him from the walls as they watched.
The citizens of Tyre had seen invaders come and go for centuries with little effect on their vast commercial network. The Phoenicians were a Canaanite people who spoke a language closely related to Hebrew. Squeezed into a narrow coastal plain along the arid eastern Mediterranean shore, they naturally looked to the sea for their livelihood. Beginning in the eleventh century B.C., cities such as Tyre and Sidon began establishing trading posts at ever more distant locations to the west. Cyprus, Sicily, northern Africa, and Spain were all the sites of early Phoenician colonies in the Mediterranean. Carthage on the African coast across from Sicily was the most famous and successful of these outposts, maintaining close ties to its mother city, Tyre, throughout the centuries. But the Phoenicians did not stop at the Straits of Gibraltar. They sailed out into the Atlantic, perhaps as far as Britain to the north and Senegal to the south. Herodotus relates that they even circumnavigated Africa. Along their way they traded with many peoples and developed a reputation as shrewd businessmen—and as thieves and pirates. Greek literature from the time of Homer is replete with stories of wicked Phoenician traders who steal children and sell them into slavery. Whatever the truth of this, they certainly spread their crafts and culture throughout the ancient world. The Greek alphabet was borrowed and adapted from the Phoenicians by the eighth century B.C., so that the aleph, bet, and gimel of Phoenician became the alpha, beta, and gamma of Greek. These wide-ranging traders were especially known for trafficking in the cedars of Lebanon from the coastal mountains of their homeland and a rare purple dye derived from the murex shells of the Lebanese coast. Their Hebrew neighbors admired the skill of the Phoenicians and employed them in the building of King Solomon’s temple, but they also condemned their religious practices, such as the alleged sacrifice of children to their gods.
The siege of Tyre began with the demolition of older parts of the town on the mainland for construction materials for a causeway to the island. Alexander then sent parties deep into the mountains to cut cedar trees for the many poles his engineers would need to drive into the seabed. He also sent messengers to the high priest in Jerusalem requesting supplies and reinforcements for him at Tyre. He informed the Jews that the tribute they had previously paid to Darius would now go to him. If he had any hesitation, Alexander counseled, he should rest assured that choosing the friendship of the Macedonians over that of the Persians would be to his benefit.
At first the construction of the causeway went well. The water near the shore was shallow and it was not difficult to drive the piles into the soft mud. The space in between the timbers was filled with abundant rubble, providing a firm foundation for a wide road into the sea. The causeway would have to bear the weight of thousands of men and heavy machinery, so great care was taken in its construction. Alexander was present every day, conferring with the engineers, encouraging his men, and carrying stone after stone into the sea himself.
The Tyrians found all this terribly amusing. When the weather was fair, they would row small boats up to the Macedonians just out of arrow range and mock the soldiers. They shouted out that such famous soldiers had now become mules bearing loads on their backs like donkeys. They asked if Alexander thought he was Poseidon, god of the seas. But as the mole progressed steadily seaward week after week, the laughter of the Tyrians ceased. They still didn’t believe that the Macedonians could ever reach their island, as they had now come to the deepest part of the channel and their work had dramatically slowed, but the Tyrians began to worry that the causeway might get close enough for Alexander to reach their walls with his artillery. In response, they evacuated some of their women and children to Carthage. They then began a concerted effort to hinder the construction project by every possible means. The Macedonians were now within arrow range of the high walls of the city, so the Tyrians showered them from above without ceasing. Because the Macedonians were stripped of their armor for work, they were vulnerable. Some of the arrows were dipped in pitch and set afire any equipment they hit. At the same time, triremes from the city would sail up to the causeway and pummel the builders with missiles. In response, Alexander ordered towers wheeled onto the causeway manned by archers to strike back against the ships. He covered these towers with hides to block arrows from the city walls and allow his men to work in safety.
In response, the ingenious Tyrians constructed an incendiary juggernaut. They found an old cavalry transport ship and filled it with all the dry timber they could cram into its hold. Then they raised the sides of the ship and added wood chips, sawdust, and anything else at hand that was flammable, stuffing sulfur into the cracks and pouring pitch on top. They rigged a double yardarm onto the masts to which they attached cauldrons full of flammable liquid. Then they added extra ballast to the stern to raise the bow high into the air to allow the speeding ship to ride high onto the causeway when it hit.
They waited until a strong wind was blowing toward the mole and then launched the ship towed by several triremes pulling it with all their might. When the Macedonians saw this very strange vessel approaching, they could not understand why the Tyrians would bother to attack them with a large horse boat. Then they started to worry as the vessel drew closer with flames beginning to shoot from its deck. The skeleton crew on the fire ship then jumped overboard and swam toward the waiting triremes, which had just cut theirlines and pulled away. With the blazing ship rushing toward them, all the terrified Macedonians could do was run for their lives. Just as the ship flew onto the causeway and into the towers, the yardarms on the masts burned through and dropped the cauldrons onto the fire below. When the liquid hit the flames, it exploded into a raging inferno unlike anything the Macedonians had ever seen. The causeway was engulfed in fire and the towers burned like matchsticks. Any unfortunate builders still alive on the mole were picked off by archers in the Tyrian triremes or by raiding parties that dashed onto the mole. As the gods would have it, there was a terrific storm that night that pounded the remains of the damaged causeway with towering waves, loosening the piles and sending tons of rock and rubble into the water. By the next morning, months of hard work had disappeared beneath the sea.
As Alexander surveyed the ruins of all his efforts, he debated with himself what he should do next. Every day he delayed at Tyre meant more time for Darius to collect a larger army. But if he left Tyre unconquered, it would continue to serve as a base for the Persian navy and, even worse, as a glaring emblem of his failure. He therefore decided to begin again on an even grander scale with a wider causeway and more protection for his men. However, he now knew he was not going to take the city with engineers and infantry alone. He had to have ships to conquer Tyre.
After resuming construction on top of the broken remains of the old causeway, he led some of his men back to Sidon to collect whatever boats he could find. It was there his luck began to change. The Phoenician kings of Sidon and Marathus, having heard that Alexander now held their cities, deserted from the fleet of Darius in the Aegean and sailed home to join the Macedonian forces. This added eighty superb triremes and their crews to his navy. Over the next few days, other ships arrived from the Greek island of Rhodes, the Cilician cities of Soli and Mallus, the towns of the Lycian coast, and even a fifty-oared ship from Macedonia commanded by Proteas, the son of Alexander’s childhood nurse Lanice. Just as the king was welcoming these vessels, he saw a fleet of ships from Cyprus sailing into the harbor of Sidon. The Cypriot kings had decided that the Persians were on the losing side of the war and begged Alexander to accept their service. He was glad to forgive any past transgressions, especially as he now had more than two hundred warships at his disposal.
First, Alexander decided to make a quick strike against the Arab natives in the nearby mountains who had been leading a guerrilla campaign against his woodcutting teams. He needed those trees for causeway piles and siege engines, and was not about to let highland brigands ruin his plans. He personally led a tough squadron of Thracian warriors and archers up through the beautiful Beqa’a valley to put an end to the raiding. It was just the sort of mountain fighting both he and the Thracians relished. For some unknown reason, Alexander’s old tutor Lysimachus, who had accompanied the expedition into Asia, asked if he could come along, assuring the king that he was no weaker than Phoenix, the elderly teacher of Achilles who had traveled with his pupil to Troy. Alexander must have laughed, but he had a soft spot in his heart for the old man and agreed.
The troops rode swiftly into the mountains, but were forced to leave their horses behind when the terrain became too steep. They marched up into the highlands, but Lysimachus was having a difficult time keeping up. Alexander sent the rest of the men ahead the first day to make camp but remained behind with a handful of friends to walk beside his tutor. The king encouraged Lysimachus and half carried him up the trails, but by nightfall they were far behind the main party and lost in the mountains. It was already spring, but when darkness fell the temperature plunged. Alexander had not planned to bivouac and so had no shelter or fire. The small band of Macedonians huddled together as the king tried desperately to keep his elderly teacher from freezing to death. Then in the distance Alexander saw the light of a campfire. He left Lysimachus and worked his way by himself through the trees toward the glow ahead. As he approached, he saw that there were two men keeping watch over a cluster of sleeping Arab raiders. With utmost care, Alexander crept up alone behind the guards and silently slit their throats. He then stole a flaming stick from the campfire without waking any of the men who slept around it. Moving as fast as he could through the darkness, he reached his own camp and kindled a roaring fire for his companions. The Arabs awoke and saw the nearby blaze, but ran off thinking a large force had suddenly descended on them. Alexander spent the rest of the night next to Lysimachus, warming his old friend and perhaps suggesting that next time he should remain in town.
When Alexander returned to Sidon after defeating the Arab hill tribes, he found four thousand Greek mercenaries awaiting his commands. He had sent Cleander to recruit them over a year earlier, but the Macedonian had little luck until the defeat of Darius at Issus. Now, with a major victory under his belt and plenty of gold in his treasury, Alexander had no trouble recruiting professional soldiers from Greece. The king packed everyone on board his new fleet and set sail for Tyre in battle formation. Naval warfare was a novelty to Alexander, but he took to it like a born sailor. He placed the Cypriot and Phoenician squadrons on the left nearest the land and took command on the right, with the newly arrived Macedonian galley serving as his flagship.
The Tyrians had heard reports that Alexander had recruited a fleet in Sidon, but they had no doubt they could overcome any pathetic armada the Macedonians were able to scrape together. They positioned their fleet on the north side of the island to strike hard against the ships Alexander sent their way. What they didn’t expect that spring morning was more than two hundred warships bearing down on their city. Alexander was hungry for a battle at sea, but the Tyrian admiral in charge signaled his fleet to retreat quickly into the protected harbor on the north side of their town. The Macedonians saw their Tyrian counterparts turn toward home and so began a race to see who could reach the harbor first. It was a close contest, but the Tyrians sacrificed three of their triremes to block Alexander’s advance and allow the remainder of their fleet to enter the city safely. They then blocked the narrow mouth of the northern port with triremes facing outward, forming a daunting wall across the harbor’s entrance. Try as he might, Alexander could not break through and seize the city from within as he had hoped, so he decided on the next best thing and blockaded both the northern harbor of the city and its southern counterpart facing toward Egypt. Unless they could find a way out, the grand battle fleet of Tyre was trapped.
Alexander’s engineers had been working around the clock while he was away and now redoubled their efforts to repair and expand the causeway. There were setbacks, such as a powerful storm that struck the mole, tearing into the new construction. The tempest also drove onto the causeway what one ancient historian called a giant sea monster. It rested part of its body against the rubble for a long time, then swam off into the sea. This was probably a whale, not uncommon in the Mediterranean, but certainly a creature unfamiliar to the mountain-born men of Alexander’s army. Superstitious and hopeful as always, both the Macedonians and Tyrians took the appearance of the beast as a sign that Poseidon was on their side.
After weeks of continuous labor under the shelter of improved protective towers, the Macedonian causeway at last drew close enough for Alexander to reach the walls of Tyre with his artillery. He rolled powerful stone-throwing catapults down the mole until they were in position, then launched a nonstop volley against the city. At the same time, he placed improvised battering rams on the ships of his fleet and covered the vessels with sturdy shields above. They pounded the sea-facing walls of the city even as the defenders facing the causeway were showered with enormous boulders.
The Tyrians, however, knew how to fight back. The people of the city shot flaming arrows on the Macedonians to keep them away from the walls. They heated great shields full of sand until the contents were glowing red, then rained them down on the soldiers. This hot sand worked its way into the breastplates of Alexander’s men in a torturous manner. The men stopped wearing armor in response, but then they were vulnerable to archers on the walls above. The Tyrians also set up rotating wheels on the walls with rapidly turning spokes to deflect arrows and missiles launched at them. Blacksmiths of the city forged barbed tridents tied to ropes that the defenders launched against the shields of the Macedonians, pulling the shields away and exposing the attackers. Some threw down fishing nets to engulf and disable Alexander’s men. The people of the city also arranged large screens of animal skin to blunt the force of rocks launched from catapults. Divers were sent to cut the ropes of the Macedonian ships until Alexander ordered the ropes replaced by chains. Swinging scythes were placed on the seaward side to eviscerate any Macedonians who approached. The workshops of Tyre were kept busy night and day producing these and other ingenious instruments of war to use against Alexander’s men.
Week after week the assault and defense continued with neither side able to make any headway. The Tyrians, to ensure the gods would remain on their side, tied down their statues in the island’s temples with golden chains. The ships of the city made a valiant effort in the early summer to break loose and attack the Macedonian fleet, but were driven back into harbor. The people of Tyre finally pinned their hopes on a relief force from their daughter city of Carthage. But an embassy of thirty ambassadors from that city somehow made their way inside the walls to inform the elders that they were, most regrettably, involved in a demanding war in the west against the Sicilian city of Syracuse and were unable to help their ancestral home.
Almost a year had passed since the battle of Issus and more than six months had wasted away without victory over Tyre. Alexander now celebrated his twenty-fourth birthday with a new determination to take the stronghold at any cost. Then, as the scorching month of July came to a close, the Macedonian causeway finally reached the island.
Alexander gave his men two days to rest, then launched a massive assault on the city from all sides. Towers were rolled down the mole to stand ready with bridges to reach over the walls, but the initial breakthrough was to come by sea, not land. The king boarded the lead ship and ordered his fleet to attack the seaward walls around the city at every spot so the Tyrians would not know where to concentrate their defense. One of his armored ships with a battering ram at last broke a hole in the wall, then backwatered to allow a trireme with crack Macedonian marines to anchor at the gap. The assault squad was led by a brave officer named Admetus, who led his men into the breach. This captain was soon cut down, but men continued to pour into the hole, including Alexander himself, who was the first on top of the city walls. The Tyrians countered with everything they had against the invaders, but other ships took advantage of their distraction to push through the triremes blocking the two harbors into the heart of the city. The mass of the army then moved down the causeway and up the towers to cross over into Tyre.
The ferocity of the slaughter was staggering. The Macedonians had spent seven long months laboring to take the stubborn town. They had seen many of their friends crushed by stones hurled from the walls or burned to death by fire bombs. They were angry, exhausted, and passionately hated the people of Tyre for putting them through hell. Alexander didn’t even try to hold them back as they killed every man, woman, and child they could lay their hands on. The Tyrians fought back street by street with the desperation of those who have no hope of mercy. Thousands died within the first few hours of the attack. Some made a last stand at a shrine dedicated to Agenor, the legendary founder of Tyre. Alexander himself led the charge against them and killed all the defenders. But by then the Macedonian bloodlust was cooling and the citizens still alive were rounded up to be sold into slavery, some thirty thousand souls in all. Those few who made it into the temple of Hercules seeking sanctuary were spared by the king, including the Carthaginian envoys. But two thousand men of fighting age captured in the attack were taken to a mainland beach across from the city and crucified—the most agonizing form of death known in the ancient world. Now, at last, with the city taken and funerals conducted for the many Macedonians who fell there, Alexander walked to the center of the ruined town and offered his long-delayed sacrifice at the temple of Hercules.
Alexander and his army were glad to leave the smoking ruins of Tyre behind as they continued their march down the Mediterranean coast. The causeway they had worked so hard to build soon began to gather silt and sand, so that in time it would be covered and grow to become a stretch of land permanently connecting the former island of Tyre to the shore.
The coast of Palestine was baking under the summer sun as the Macedonians made their way south. The ancient records do not mention Alexander taking the less direct but more hospitable road inland through Galilee and down the Jordan River valley. The Jewish historian Josephus alone asserts that Alexander journeyed to the temple at Jerusalem to pay his respect to the high priest, but this is almost certainly pious fiction. Instead the Macedonians took the shorter path down the coast past Mount Carmel, then on to Joppa, where Jonah reportedly took ship before being swallowed by a great fish.
Somewhere along this arid road, envoys from the Great King met Alexander with a new offer of peace. The Persian campaign in the Aegean had all but collapsed with the defection of the Phoenicians, so that the hoped-for uprising in Greece now seemed most unlikely. Even as the Persian ambassadors were arriving in camp, envoys from the Greek cities—except the Spartans, of course—were present, offering congratulations to Alexander on his victories. It was taking Darius much longer than he had anticipated to collect an army from the distant provinces of his empire. He needed at least another year to prepare for war, so it seemed best to buy time by striking a deal with Alexander. The Great King therefore was willing to increase the ransom he would pay for his family, allow Alexander to marry his eldest daughter, and grant him all the lands west of the Euphrates River if he would end his campaign. Darius reminded the young king that the Persian Empire was vast and filled with warlike people. If he was foolish enough to try to conquer it, he would grow old in the attempt, even in the unlikely event that he was to defeat the Persian army in battle. Better to accept the lands of the eastern Mediterranean as a gift than throw away his life on some battlefield in Persia or in the wastelands of Bactria.
When Alexander read the letter to his council, Parmenion said that if he were Alexander, he would accept the terms of Darius. The king shot back that he would accept them as well—if he were Parmenion. Instead, Alexander wrote back to Darius saying that hehad all the money he needed without the Great King’s ransom and that he could marry his captive daughter any time he chose without her father’s permission. As for the lands Darius offered, they were nothing compared to the empire he was going to conquer. Lydia, Cilicia, and Phoenicia were just the beginning. Media, Persia, and even India were all going to be his. He dismissed the envoys with a final word for Darius that they would soon meet again in battle.
The only obstacle left for Alexander on his journey to Egypt was the fortress town of Gaza on the coastal plain at the edge of the Negev desert. Like Troy, it was an ancient hilltop town near the sea built on the layers of its own past. Since the days of the Philistines, it had dominated caravan traffic deep into Arabia. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh all passed through its markets, which Herodotus considered one of the largest in Asia. It was once ruled by the pharaohs, but had passed in turn to the Assyrians, Babylonians, and finally the Persians. The Great King’s governor at Gaza, a eunuch named Batis, was confident the Macedonians could not take his city. Behind his high walls he had ample water and grain to sustain a long siege. Moreover, he had hired Arab mercenaries hardened to desert fighting. In spite of Alexander’s success at Tyre and the terrible consequences to its inhabitants, Batis dared Alexander to try to take Gaza.
As the king and his engineers rode around the city the first day, they had to admit that it would be very difficult to capture. The town sat so far above the plain that the Macedonian siege engines could not reach the walls. Therefore Alexander commanded his men to build a mound completely around the city equal to it in height. When complete, he would place towers on this rampart and storm the city. It was a monumental task for his soldiers, who had just spent months building a causeway across the sea to Tyre, but they followed orders.
One morning during construction when Alexander was sacrificing below the city, a bird of prey swooped down on him and dropped a stone it was carrying in its talons. The king turned to his soothsayer Aristander to interpret this omen. The old prophet said that Alexander would take the city in time, but he must not fight that day. The king reluctantly obeyed the will of the gods, but when the Arab mercenaries made an unexpected foray against the Macedonians that afternoon, Alexander could not help but rush to the front lines of the fight. He was almost immediately hit by an arrow fired from a catapult that pierced his shield and went straight through his armor into his shoulder. The king cursed his luck but ordered the wound dressed and continued the fight, at least until he collapsed unconscious from loss of blood. Batis and the people of Gaza rejoiced, thinking he had been killed.
Alexander was not dead, but he was very angry. When the siege towers he used at Tyre at last arrived by ship, the king ordered his engineers to put them in place on the ramparts they had constructed. The Macedonians then launched a massive assault on the city that was driven back three times by the defenders. Then Alexander, in spite of his bandaged shoulder, led his troops in a fourth assault that finally breached the walls. The people of Gaza fought as bravely against the invaders as had the citizens of Tyre, but they could not stand against the fury of the Macedonians. All the men of Gaza died at their posts defending their city, but the women and children were captured and sold into slavery. A badly wounded but still defiant Batis was brought before Alexander, who threatened him with cruel punishments if he would not bow down before him. The eunuch merely gazed at the king in contempt. Then Alexander in his anger did something so horrific that most ancient historians omit the episode altogether. In the Iliad, Achilles took the body of his slain Trojan opponent Hector and dragged it around the Greek camp behind a chariot. Alexander now took Batis, still alive, lashed his ankles with leather thongs, tied him to his own chariot, and pulled him through the rocky desert around the city of Gaza until long after he was dead.
Alexander summoned local Bedouin tribes to rebuild and repopulate Gaza as a fortress, this time under Macedonian control. He sent his fleet ahead, then advanced with his army into the coastal deserts of the northern Sinai. It was November, so the days were cool and pleasant, but there were still difficulties. Water was scarce along the way and the paths around brackish Lake Serbonis on the final stretch were notorious for quicksand. But six days after leaving Gaza, Alexander came to the frontier town of Pelusium. Here almost two centuries earlier, the Persian king Cambyses, son of Cyrus the Great, had defeated the army of the pharaoh. Herodotus saw the bones of both sides still bleaching in the sun when he visited many years later. Here at Pelusium, the easternmost branch of the Nile flowed into the Mediterranean. And it was here that Alexander entered Egypt, a land that would change his life forever.