Conquest of Persia Read online

  The troops were in a happy mood. And yet, there was a subtle shift in their celebrations, as compared to the euphoria following their victory at Granikos. That triumph had been a welcome surprise. Certainly, the troops had always had faith in Alexandros and had always been hopeful of victory because people who fight for a living must be optimists by nature but, deep down, they hadn’t known what outcome to expect. On the one hand, they considered Persian soldiers unskilled, effeminate, and cowardly (and, mostly, they were wrong on all three counts); on the other hand, whether they admitted it to themselves or not, the Persian Empire itself carried a formidable mystique. Backward and fragmented Greece simply couldn’t defeat the unified might of the greatest empire the world had ever seen. When they emerged victorious after a set piece battle against a Persian army, fighting on its home soil, they were understandably overjoyed.

  By the time the Battle at Issos rolled around, the pan-Hellenic army had become used to winning. Led by the invincible Alexandros, they fully expected to win against Dareios’s hordes. Ironically, they had come very close to losing, notwithstanding their confidence going into the battle. Afterward, having snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, they considered the outcome nothing more than their just due. They were exhilarated after the hard fight, to be sure, happy to have survived, proud of their part in overcoming the enemy, and pleased with whatever plunder they might have gained, but they weren’t euphoric. Instead, they were ready to go home.

  Alexandros had other ideas. The objectives of the invasion, at least in his own mind, had shifted. The point was no longer the liberation of the Ionian Greeks and the unification of all Greek-speaking people around the Aegean Sea in one great Hellenic League. Even while the Macedonians were busy beating the Persians in Anatolia, the ingrates on the Greek mainland were doing their best to undermine Macedonian leadership of the League. As long as Dareios was around, fomenting rebellion in Greece, and as long as naval forces subservient to Persia controlled the Aegean, the triumph of the pan-Hellenic expeditionary force was bound to be transitory. Alexandros wanted to leave something permanent behind. And besides, he enjoyed waging war and winning battles.

  While making plans and preparing to break the news to the troops that their return home would be somewhat delayed, Alexandros permitted everyone to enjoy a few days of rest and relaxation. The men did their best to sate their appetites. It helped that there was, in the camp, a sudden influx of women engaged, whether voluntarily or under duress, in the booming business of prostitution.

  Their commanders, of course, indulged themselves as well but they were able, if they chose, to enjoy the exclusive attentions of captive women, rather than having to share them with others. Fast Philotas, for example, gave a new twist to his old nickname, falling at first sight head over heels for a captured Greek hetaira named Antigone. He managed to consummate his conquest in less time than it took his thirsty comrades to finish a cup of wine. Thereafter, he spent his nights gorging his libido in her arms, while Antigone, confined to Philotas’s tent, spent her days plotting her revenge against her new, voracious proprietor.

  After five days of athletic and artistic contests, solemn rituals, and hedonistic celebrations, Alexandros scheduled one last banquet. At the height of the postprandial revelry, he rose to his feet, called for silence, and made public his plans. There was some groaning, a few catcalls, but no overt resistance. Alexandros laughed off any objections. “Are you telling me,” he asked, his voice tinged with incredulity, “that you’re prepared to stand up and leave the banquet before the dessert is even served?” A few of the men shook their heads. “That you’re prepared to stand up and walk away while a beautiful woman, ready to be ravished, lies there waiting for you?” A chorus of no’s rang out. “That with a string of defenseless cities begging to be stripped of their treasure you’re ready to turn around and go home?”

  “We’re with you, Aniketos[3],” the men roared as one.

  “Alright then. We’ll start our march down the coast to Phoenicia in a couple of days. But first, let’s finish the wine and then slake our thirst with our favorite ladies of the night.”

  Alexandros took his own advice, sending word to Barsine that he intended to pay her a visit after the banquet.

  *******

  Parmenion fretted all the way to Damaskos. A battalion of allied infantry and a couple squadrons of Thessalian cavalry was a puny force to assault a walled city defended by a strong garrison. He needn’t have worried, assuming the old soldier was capable of ever being free of concern.

  Word of Alexandros’s victory, and of Dareios’s flight, had traveled to Damaskos faster than Parmenion’s troops could march. When they were still two days out and in the process of making camp for the night, trying to stay warm in the bitter cold and driving snow, a messenger arrived, carrying a letter from the satrap of Lowland Assyria.[4] As the man in charge of the Damaskos garrison and the man ultimately responsible for the protection of Dareios’s baggage train, traveling treasury, most of the harem, and many other distinguished guests, the satrap didn’t wish to betray the emperor who had elevated him to his high position. He thought of himself as a man of honor and principle. However, he was also a practical man and he didn’t believe that either the crumbling walls of Damaskos or his small group of Persian fighters could resist a siege by the invincible Macedonians.

  Accordingly, the satrap determined that the most responsible course of action open to him was to evacuate all the people and goods entrusted to his care. At the same time, he also thought it prudent to stay on the right side of the Macedonians, just in case they ended up in charge of things. Hence, the letter brought by the messenger. It advised Parmenion of the exact day and hour of the planned evacuation from Damaskos. And, incidentally, the letter also made it clear that, upon evacuation, the city would be stripped bare of any armed defenders, the gates to the city would be left open, and the column of refugees would be rendered vulnerable to attack.

  Parmenion and his small force arrived at the outskirts of Damaskos on the appointed day and “surprised” the long caravan of evacuees. The garrison troops charged with the responsibility of protecting the column of dignitaries and concubines ran away at the first sight of the Thessalian cavalry. The porters carrying the precious goods of the refugees dropped their cargo and followed suit. The teamsters driving the emperor’s treasure-laden wagons unhitched their animals and rode away. And the fancy ladies and honored guests were left sitting in the slushy snow.

  Parmenion’s troops spent the rest of the day taking possession of all the goods, treasure, and captives. The old general insisted that all the spoils be carefully sorted and catalogued. According to the final inventory, his troops amassed 2,600 talents of assorted coins; two tons of gold and silver plate, cups, and ornaments; two dozen of Dareios’s purple robes; a score of jeweled swords, staffs, bridles, and chamber pots; and four ornamented parade chariots. They also captured forty-eight high-ranking Persians, numbering among them members of several noble families; a dozen ambassadors, including interestingly enough ambassadors from Athens, Thebes, and Sparta; the wives and children of Dareios’s commanders; Dareios’s entire household staff, among whom were 277 cooks, caterers, and wine stewards; and the inmates of Dareios’s harem, including 69 concubines.[5]

  After all the loot was sorted, catalogued, and stored, and after all the fugitives securely locked up, Parmenion took possession of Damaskos, settling his troops in the houses abandoned by the escaping garrison, and sent a detailed report to Alexandros, appending to it the list of captured goods and prisoners.

  Chapter 2 – Marching Down the Coast

  Parmenion’s messenger reached Alexandros’s tent two days later. Alexandros admitted the messenger, read Parmenion’s report, and then passed it around among the assembled officers. “We’ve rested long enough,” was his only comment. “Get your men ready for the march down the coast. We’re off first thing tomorrow.”

  People were still milling about in the command t
ent when Hephaistion, Alexandros’s best friend and most devoted sycophant, announced the arrival of two ambassadors from Dareios.

  Alexandros arched an eyebrow. “What do they want?”

  “They bring a letter from the Persian emperor.”

  “Henceforth, he is to be referred to as the Persian coward,” Alexandros informed him, without a trace of a smile. “Go get the letter and bring it in.”

  After a momentary delay, Hephaistion returned with word that the ambassadors wished to make an oral presentation before handing the letter over. Alexandros exploded. “Since when do Persian ambassadors tell me what to do? Bring that letter right now! You can kill them if that’s what it takes.” The letter materialized within a minute or two.

  Alexandros read the letter, while absent-mindedly dismissing everybody in the tent with a wave of his hand. “Not you, Ptolemaios,” he said to me, without looking up.

  After Alexandros read the letter twice, and after making sure we were alone in the tent, he handed it over. “What do you think?”

  I read Dareios’s letter:

  His Majesty, Dareios, King of Kings, to King Alexandros: Greetings.

  Your father, King Philippos of Macedon, and my predecessor, King Artaxerxes of Persia, were on terms of friendship and alliance but, upon the accession of Artaxerxes’s son Arses, your father launched an unprovoked invasion of the Persian lands. Since you and I both became rulers of our respective lands, you have not sent any representatives to my court to confirm the former friendship that had existed between our countries. On the contrary, you have crossed into Asia with your armed forces and have caused much damage to the Persian lands. It was for this reason that I took the field in defense of my country and of my ancestral throne. The outcome of the battle was as some god willed it; however, if a state of war persists between our countries, the one certainty is that both of our countries will suffer.

  I seek to reinstate the friendship and alliance that had once existed between Philippos and Artaxerxes, to the mutual benefit of both of our countries. To that end, I am prepared to cede to Macedonia all the Persian lands to the west of the Halys River, including all of Phrygia, Hellespontine Phrygia, Kilikia, Karia, Lydia, Ionia, and all the Aegean islands off the coast of Anatolia. This is far more land than you have conquered by force of arms and certainly far more land than you can possibly hold. I make this offer because I seek peace and not war. If we continue to war, your kingdom will be destroyed and mine damaged. If we resume the alliance that had heretofore existed between our countries, our peoples will be able to live in peace and prosperity because there is no army on the face of this Earth that can withstand our combined might.

  In addition, you have captured my mother, my wives, and my children. If you will restore them to me, I will immediately deliver to you a payment of 10,000 talents of gold.[6]

  I urge you to dispatch your own representatives to accompany my ambassadors back to my court, so that all the terms of a treaty can be negotiated and finalized, proper oaths and guaranties exchanged, and peace concluded between our countries.

  “Well, what do you think?” Alexandros asked when I had finished reading.

  Why is he asking me, of all people? For some obscure reason, Alexandros had chosen to confide in me from time to time. Being the king’s confidant was the last thing I wished to become, not only because such a position was rife with potential Prime Directive[7] violations but also because I knew it was a short step from being a trusted confidant to becoming a dangerous former aide who knows too much. “Perhaps others would be in a better position to advise you, sire.”

  “I’m going to ask plenty of other people, Ptolemaios, don’t worry. But right now, I want to know what you think.”

  I shrugged. “I think, sire, that congratulations are in order.” I looked up, trying to determine Alexandros’s reaction but his face was inscrutable. “You have accomplished everything that you, and your father before you, have strived to achieve. Not only does the Persian coward cede to Macedonia all of the Greek-speaking cities and islands of Ionia but also a good portion of the rest of Anatolia. The age-old dream of the Aegean Sea as a Greek lake will be at hand. And the ransom payment is a nice bonus. If you were to distribute that money among the troops, it would be enough to make each man rich for life.”

  “Your math is off,” Alexandros interrupted. “At best, that’s enough to cover four years’ wages for the troops. Hardly enough to make them rich for life.”

  I chose not to argue, although it seemed to me that four years’ wages, in a lump sum bonus, would be a nice stake for each man to take back home.

  “And so is your strategic acumen,” Alexandros continued. “Weren’t you the one who told me to march down the coast to deprive the Persian navy of its bases of operations? How is the Aegean going to become a Greek lake if the Persians control the seas? And what makes you think we could trust any oath or guaranty undertaken by that jellyfish?”

  “Well, even if you don’t accept it, it’s still a good offer. Perhaps it could serve as a basis of further negotiations.”

  Alexandros shook his head. “If you think it’s a good offer, imagine what the others are going to think.”

  “They’ll think whatever you wish them to think, sire.”

  Alexandros laughed mirthlessly. “Go get Kallisthenes,” he ordered. “Tell him to bring plenty of writing materials and make sure nobody sees the two of you coming in here.”

  When we returned, Alexandros turned directly to the scribe. “I’m going to ask you to write a letter for me.”

  Kallisthenes switched immediately into his attentive mode. “Yes, your highness.”

  “What you’re going to write is confidential. Is that understood? No one is to know what I’m about to ask you to do.”

  “Anything you tell me, sire, I’ll take to the grave with me, if that’s your wish.”

  Alexandros looked at me. He didn’t need to say a word. I could see the question in his eyes and I nodded my assent.

  “Here, take a look at this.” Alexandros handed Dareios’s letter to Kallisthenes. “I want you to make a copy. Can you do that?”

  “Certainly, sire.”

  “It needs to look exactly like the original, so someone looking at it would have no doubt it came from the Persian coward. Do you think you can manage that?”

  “It’s not a problem, your highness.”

  “Alright then, let’s get to it.” Kallisthenes set to work. “But there are a couple of minor changes I need you to make in the copy.” Kallisthenes nodded. “In the salutation, take out the word king, so it reads ‘His Majesty, Dareios, King of Kings, to Alexandros: Greetings.’” Kallisthenes started to write. His ability to mimic the writing style of his Persian counterpart was uncanny. “The first paragraph is fine as it is, except for the very ending. Go ahead a copy it but stop when you get to ‘one certainty’.”

  By the time Kallisthenes finished copying Dareios’s letter, with Alexandros’s slight emendations, the letter read as follows:

  His Majesty, Dareios, King of Kings, to Alexandros: Greetings.

  Your father, King Philippos of Macedon, and my predecessor, King Artaxerxes of Persia, were on terms of friendship and alliance but, upon the accession of Artaxerxes’s son Arses, your father launched an unprovoked invasion of the Persian lands. Since you and I both became rulers of our respective lands, you have not sent any representatives to my court to confirm the former friendship that had existed between our countries. On the contrary, you have crossed into Asia with your armed forces and have caused much damage to the Persian lands. It was for this reason that I took the field in defense of my country and of my ancestral throne. The outcome of the battle was as some god willed it; however, if a state of war persists between our countries, the one certainty is that your army will be utterly destroyed and all your cities will be become Persian vassals.

  I seek to terminate the hostilities between us. To that end, I am prepared to permit your army to depart our
shores without interference. This is a far better outcome than you can achieve through the force of arms.

  In addition, you have captured my mother, my wives, and my children. If you will restore them to me, I will immediately deliver to you a payment of 10,000 talents of gold.

  I urge you to dispatch your own representatives to accompany my ambassadors back to my court, so that all the terms of a treaty can be negotiated and finalized, proper oaths and guaranties exchanged, and a temporary truce arranged to permit the withdrawal of your army.

  As soon as Kallisthenes finished preparing the new version of Dareios’s letter, Alexandros burned the original in a brazier. Then he invited the command staff back “to consider the Persian coward’s arrogant and insolent proposal.” Predictable outrage followed.

  With the advice and consent of the command staff, Alexandros dictated the following reply:

  His Majesty, King Alexandros, to Dareios: Greetings.

  The Dareios whose name you have wrongfully appropriated inflicted utter destruction upon the Greek inhabitants of the Hellespontine coast, including the citizens of the Greek colonies of Ionia. He then crossed the sea with a mighty army, bringing war against Macedonia and the rest of the Greek mainland. On another occasion, his successor Xerxes invaded again, destroying our cities and burning our fields. In addition, it is well known that my own father Philippos was murdered by an assassin whom your people had suborned with promises of a huge Persian reward.