Conquest of Persia by Alexander Geiger

Author:Alexander Geiger [Geiger, Alexander]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780989258463
Published: 2019-04-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9 – Babylon

For once, Dareios had been accurate in his surmise of Alexandros’s next move. After burying the pan-Hellenic dead (there were too many dead and too few trees in Mesopotamia for mass cremations), after making sacrifices and giving thanks to all the pertinent deities, after distributing the captured booty, after another celebratory banquet and pro forma victory speech, after he’d had a chance to catch his breath, Alexandros saw no immediate need to chase Dareios to Ekbatana. As far as he was concerned, Dareios had forfeited his claim to the Persian throne on the buffed, bloody battlefield of Gaugamela. What was needed right then was some morale-boosting rest and relaxation for the troops and some prestige-enhancing strutting for their leader. Alexandros chose to march on Babylon.

Mazaios, who had successfully executed his getaway to Babylon, was informed of our impending arrival almost before we’d set off. He immediately launched the necessary preparations: He ordered Dareios’s elite royal cavalry squadrons, which had managed to extricate themselves from the generalized rout at Gaugamela with minimal casualties and had followed Mazaios to Babylon, to polish their armor; he patiently stood through numerous fittings while his splendid new ceremonial robe and suit of armor were rushed to completion; and he summoned several of his remaining Greek mercenaries to the royal palace and immersed himself in the assiduous study of Greek, with a particular emphasis on the Macedonian dialect.

We were still a half-day’s march from Babylon when our scouts reported that a massive column of natives had sallied forth from the city and was making its way toward us. Uncertain as to their intentions, Alexandros immediately halted our own column and ordered us to deploy in a defensive formation, with the Companion Cavalry arrayed, squadron by squadron, in the front, followed by the infantry in a hollow phalanx, with the baggage train and camp followers in the middle. And then we waited.

First, we saw the approaching cloud of dust. Then we heard the noise. It was difficult to tell, at least at first, whether the cacophony was supposed to pass for music but eventually the din resolved into loud drumming, cymbal crashing, trumpet blaring, and human shrieking that we interpreted as Babylonian singing. By then, we could make out the figures on the road. The procession was led by a large lacquered litter, carried by a dozen broad-shouldered, dark-skinned, magnificently attired porters. They were followed by squadrons of Dareios’s royal cavalry, their gleaming armor coruscating in the blazing Mesopotamian sun. Then came the priests in their flowing white robes and elaborate felt hats. And finally, the bulk of the column, made up of thousands upon thousands of ordinary citizens in gay, colorful costumes, advancing with a peculiar, prancing strut, accompanied by the god-awful noise that had announced their initial approach. It was obvious this wasn’t a belligerent sortie and we all relaxed our vigilance.

When the van of the procession reached us, the porters lowered the palanquin and a beautifully accoutered, lavishly bejeweled, meticulously coiffed elderly aristocrat tumbled out.

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