backward even by the standards of rural Macedon. But Alexander throughout his life was concerned with the individual.
He showed from the outset of the campaign his characteristic swift adjustment to the unexpected. The defenders of the Haemon pass had walled themselves behinda line of carts, which they started to bowl down on his men with the lethal force of gravity. Throwing the phalanx into open order, he told those who could not avoid a cart to crouch under a roof of shields (thus anticipating the Roman “tortoise”). The carts bounced over; not a man was lost, the pass was carried. He advanced into the river plain of the Triballians, a large force of whom shortly cut off his rear. He turned round at once to meet them; they withdrew into an impregnable gorge. He never wasted his men’s lives in stacking such positions; he sent archers and slingers to harass from a distance; when the enemy took the bait and came out in chase, he fell on them with all his forces. Panicking, they were cut down with the usual dire contrast of casualties between pursuer and pursued. To soldiers of the ancient world there was a force unknown today in what Alexander would say to his men a decade later: “While I have led you, not one of you has been killed in flight.”
After this battle he marched north to the Ister. Not only did he want to control the land it bounded; he had a longing, says Arrian, to cross to the other side.
This is the first time of many in his life story where we hear of such a craving—the Greek word is pothos. His many-sided nature had a powerful strain of the explorer. The Ister was the northern edge of the known Greek world; all beyond was hearsay. But his dreams had always their practical side; he did not aim to pass over the great river only “because it was there.” The tribes beyond were known for fierce warriors and raiders; and he wanted before he left for Asia to make a lasting impression. If he crossed to their side, they might later feel discouraged from crossing to his.
The Danube in its lower course was such a stream as neither he nor his men had ever before set eyes on. Hehad had some war galleys sent up from Byzantium (now subdued) but they were only a squadron, with their rowers taking up room, and he had to embark an army. Here Xenophon came to his constant reader’s aid; he has a passage about the inflated hide rafts used to cross the Euphrates. Hide was used also to make army tents (it must have made the baggage trains immensely cumbrous), and these Alexander had cobbled into rafts, stuffed with hay for buoyancy. He also commandeered the local dugout canoes. On this makeshift flotilla he crossed the Ister by night, with 4,000 foot and, astonishingly, 1,500 cavalry. The horses must have swum.
This whole campaign is described with the close detail of an eyewitness; presumably Ptolemy. He had not yet been promoted to high command; not till after Philip’s death had Alexander been able to recall his banished friends. His present chief of staff was another friend of those days, Parmenion’s son Philotas. Never having lost the royal favour, he had entered the new reign with higher rank.
However experienced the officers, this was a manœuvre quite new to the Macedonian army; its broad strategy and comprehensive grasp of detail must belong to Alexander. On the far bank the infantry advanced through high standing corn, flattening it by holding their sarissas sideways (they must have been extremely well drilled) to make a path for the cavalry. On open ground beyond, Alexander deployed his forces. But the local Getae were so shocked by this uncanny arrival in the dawn that they fled before the cavalry, first from their town, then on into the wilderness with such women and children as they could take on their horses’ cruppers. The Macedonians took the town and “as much plunder as the Getae had left behind”; which, in fourth-century terms, would includeany remaining women and children. For such
He showed from the outset of the campaign his characteristic swift adjustment to the unexpected. The defenders of the Haemon pass had walled themselves behinda line of carts, which they started to bowl down on his men with the lethal force of gravity. Throwing the phalanx into open order, he told those who could not avoid a cart to crouch under a roof of shields (thus anticipating the Roman “tortoise”). The carts bounced over; not a man was lost, the pass was carried. He advanced into the river plain of the Triballians, a large force of whom shortly cut off his rear. He turned round at once to meet them; they withdrew into an impregnable gorge. He never wasted his men’s lives in stacking such positions; he sent archers and slingers to harass from a distance; when the enemy took the bait and came out in chase, he fell on them with all his forces. Panicking, they were cut down with the usual dire contrast of casualties between pursuer and pursued. To soldiers of the ancient world there was a force unknown today in what Alexander would say to his men a decade later: “While I have led you, not one of you has been killed in flight.”
After this battle he marched north to the Ister. Not only did he want to control the land it bounded; he had a longing, says Arrian, to cross to the other side.
This is the first time of many in his life story where we hear of such a craving—the Greek word is pothos. His many-sided nature had a powerful strain of the explorer. The Ister was the northern edge of the known Greek world; all beyond was hearsay. But his dreams had always their practical side; he did not aim to pass over the great river only “because it was there.” The tribes beyond were known for fierce warriors and raiders; and he wanted before he left for Asia to make a lasting impression. If he crossed to their side, they might later feel discouraged from crossing to his.
The Danube in its lower course was such a stream as neither he nor his men had ever before set eyes on. Hehad had some war galleys sent up from Byzantium (now subdued) but they were only a squadron, with their rowers taking up room, and he had to embark an army. Here Xenophon came to his constant reader’s aid; he has a passage about the inflated hide rafts used to cross the Euphrates. Hide was used also to make army tents (it must have made the baggage trains immensely cumbrous), and these Alexander had cobbled into rafts, stuffed with hay for buoyancy. He also commandeered the local dugout canoes. On this makeshift flotilla he crossed the Ister by night, with 4,000 foot and, astonishingly, 1,500 cavalry. The horses must have swum.
This whole campaign is described with the close detail of an eyewitness; presumably Ptolemy. He had not yet been promoted to high command; not till after Philip’s death had Alexander been able to recall his banished friends. His present chief of staff was another friend of those days, Parmenion’s son Philotas. Never having lost the royal favour, he had entered the new reign with higher rank.
However experienced the officers, this was a manœuvre quite new to the Macedonian army; its broad strategy and comprehensive grasp of detail must belong to Alexander. On the far bank the infantry advanced through high standing corn, flattening it by holding their sarissas sideways (they must have been extremely well drilled) to make a path for the cavalry. On open ground beyond, Alexander deployed his forces. But the local Getae were so shocked by this uncanny arrival in the dawn that they fled before the cavalry, first from their town, then on into the wilderness with such women and children as they could take on their horses’ cruppers. The Macedonians took the town and “as much plunder as the Getae had left behind”; which, in fourth-century terms, would includeany remaining women and children. For such
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