 CHAPTER IX The Great Victory All the western part of Asia was now in Alexander's power. He was undisputed master of Asia Minor, Phoenicia, Judea, and Egypt. He returned from Egypt to Tyre, leaving governors to rule in his name in all the conquered provinces. The injuries which had been done to Tyre during the siege and the assault were repaired, and it was again a wealthy, powerful, and prosperous city. Alexander rested and refreshed his army there, and spent some weeks in most splendid festivities and rejoicings. The princes and potentents of all the neighbouring countries assembled a partake of his hospitality, to be entertained by the games, the plays, the spectacles, and the feastings, and to unite in swelling his court and doing him honour. In a word he was the general centre for attention for all eyes, and the object of universal homage. All this time, however, he was very far from being satisfied, or feeling that his work was done. Darius, whom he considered his great enemy, was still in the field, unsubdued. He had retreated across the Euphrates, and was employed in assembling a vast collection of forces from all the eastern nations which were under his sway, to meet Alexander in the final contest. Alexander therefore made arrangements at Tyre for the proper government of the various kingdoms and provinces which he had already conquered, and then began to prepare for marching eastward with the main body of his army. During all this time the ladies of Darius's family, who had been taken captive at Issus, had been retained in captivity, and made to accompany Alexander's army in its marches. Alexander refused to accede to any of the plans and propositions which Darius made, and offered for the redemption of his wife and mother, but insisted on retaining them as his prisoners. He however treated them with respect and high consideration. He provided them with royal tents of great magnificence, and had them conveyed from place to place when his army moved, with all the royal state of which they had been accustomed when in the court of Darius. It has been generally thought a proof of nobleness of spirit and generosity in Alexander that he treated his captives in this manner. It would seem, however, that true generosity would have prompted the restoration of these unhappy and harmless prisoners to the husband and father who mourned their separation from him, and their cruel sufferings with bitter grief. It is more probable, therefore, that policy and a regard for his own aggrandisement, rather than compassion for the suffering, led him to honour his captive queens. It was a great glory to him, in a marshal point of view, to have such trophies of his victory in his train, and, of course, the more highly he honoured the personages, the more glorious the trophy appeared. Finally Alexander did everything in his power to magnify the importance of his royal captives, by the splendour of their retinue, and the pomp and pageantry with which he invested their movements. A short time after leaving Tyre, on the march eastward, Startira, the wife of Darius, was taken suddenly ill and died. The tidings were immediately brought to Alexander, and he repaired without delay to Cisangambus's tent. Cisangambus was the mother of Darius. She was in the greatest agony of grief. She was lying upon the floor of her tent, surrounded by the ladies of her court, and entirely overwhelmed with sorrow. Alexander did all in his power to calm and comfort her. One of the officers of Queen Startira's household made his escape from the camp immediately after his mistress's death, and fled across the country to Darius to carry him the heavy tidings. Darius was overwhelmed with affliction. The officer, however, in father's interviews, gave him such an account of the kind and respectful treatment which the ladies had received from Alexander during all the time of their captivity, as to greatly relieve his mind, and to afford him a high degree of comfort and consolation. He expressed a very strong sense of gratitude to Alexander for his generosity and kindness, and said that if his kingdom of Persia must be conquered, he sincerely wished that it might fall into the hands of such a conqueror as Alexander. By looking at the map at the commencement of the volume, it will be seen that the Tegris and the Euphrates are parallel streams, flowing through the heart of the western part of Asia toward the south-east, and emptying into the Persian Gulf. The country between these two rivers, which was extremely populous and fertile, was called Mesopotamia. Darius had collected an immense army here. The various detachment filled all the plains of Mesopotamia. Alexander turned his course a little northward, intending to pass the River Euphrates at a famous ancient crossing at Thapsus, which may be seen upon the map. When he arrived at this place he found a small Persian army there. They however retired as he approached. Alexander built two bridges across the river, and passed his army safely over. In the meantime Darius, with his enormous hose, passed across the Tegris, and moved toward the northward along the eastern side of the river. He had to cross the various branches of the Tegris as he advanced, at one of them called Thelaicus, which may be also seen upon the map, there was a bridge. It took the vast hose which Darius had collected five days to pass this bridge. While Darius had been thus advancing to the northward, into the latitude where he knew that Alexander must cross the rivers, Alexander himself and his small but compact and fearless body of Grecian troops were moving eastward, toward the same region to which Darius's line of march was tending. Alexander at length reached the Tegris. He was obliged to forward this stream. The banks were steep and the current was rapid, and the men were in great danger of being swept away. To prevent this danger, the ranks as they advanced linked their arms together, so that each man might be sustained by his comrades. They held their shields above their heads to keep them from the water. Alexander waited like the rest, though he kept in front, and reached the bank before the others. Standing there he indicated to the advancing column, by gesticulation, where to land, the noise of the water being too great to allow his voice to be heard. To see him standing there safely landed, and with an expression of confidence and triumph in his attitude and air, awakened fresh energy in the heart of every soldier in the columns which were crossing the stream. Notwithstanding this encouragement, however, the passage of the troops and the landing on the bank produced a scene of great confusion. Many of the soldiers tied up a portion of their clothes in bundles, which they held above their heads together with their arms, as they waited along through the swift current of the stream. They, however, found it impossible to carry these bundles, but had to abandon them at last in order to save themselves, as they staggered along through deep and rapid water, over a concealed bottom of slippery stones. Thousands of these bundles, mingled with spears, darts, and every other sort of weapon that would float, were swept down by the current, to impede and embarrass the men who were passing below. At length, however, the men themselves succeeded in getting over in safety, though a large quantity of arms and of clothing was lost. There was no enemy upon the bank to oppose them. Darius could not, in fact, well me, to oppose Alexander in his attempt across the river, because he could not determine at what point he would probably make the attempt, in season to concentrate so large an army to oppose him. Alexander's troops, being a comparatively small and compact body, and being accustomed to move with great promptness and celerity, could easily evade any attempt of such an unwieldy mass of forces to oppose his crossing at any particular point upon the stream. At any rate, Darius did not make any such attempt, and Alexander had no difficulties to encounter in crossing the Tegress other than the physical obstacles presented by the current of the stream. Darius's plan was, therefore, not to intercept Alexander on his march, but to choose some great and convenient battlefield, where he could collect his forces, and marshal them advantageously, and so await an attack there. He knew very well that his enemy would seek him out wherever he was, and consequently that he might choose his position. He found such a field and an extensive plain at Gorgomila, not far from the city of Arbila. The spot has received historical immortality, under the name of the plain of Arbila. Darius was several days in concentrating his vast armies upon this plain. He constructed encampments. He levelled the inequalities which would interfere with the movements of his great bodies of cavalry. He guarded the approaches, too, as much as possible. There is a little instrument used in war called a caltrop. It consists of a small ball of iron, with several sharp points projecting from it, one or two inches each way. If these instruments are thrown upon the ground at random, one of the points must necessarily be upward, and the horses that tread upon them are lame and disabled at once. Darius caused caltrops to be scattered in the grass and along the roads, wherever the army of Alexander would be likely to approach his troops on the field of battle. Alexander having crossed the river, encamped for a day or two on the banks, to rest and refresh and to rearrange his army. While here the soldiers were one night thrown into consternation by an eclipse of the moon. Whenever an eclipse of the moon takes place, it is, of course, when the moon is full, so that the eclipse is always a sudden and, among an ignorant people, an unexpected waning of the orb in the height of its blender. And as such people know not the cause of the phenomenon, they are often extremely terrified. Alexander's soldiers were thrown into consternation by the eclipse. They considered it a manifestation of the displeasure of heaven, at their presumptuous daring in crossing such rivers, and penetrating to such a distance, to invade the territories of another king. In fact the men were predisposed to fear. Having wandered to a vast distance from home, having passed over such mountains and deserts, and now at last having crossed a deep and dangerous river, and thrown themselves into the immediate vicinity of a foe, ten times as numerous as themselves, it was natural that they should feel some misgivings. And when at night, impressed with the sense of solemnity which night always imparts to strange novel scenes, they looked up to the bright round moon, pleased with the expression of cheerfulness and companionship which beams always in her light. To find her suddenly waning, changing her form, withdrawing her bright beams, and looking down upon them with allured and murky light, it was not surprising that they felt an emotion of terror. In fact there is always an element of terror in the emotion excited by looking upon an eclipse, which an instinctive feeling of the heart inspires. It invites a spectacle with a solemn grandeur. It holds a spectator, however cultivated and refined, in silence while he gazes at it. It mingles with the scientific appreciation of the vastness of the movements and magnitudes by which the effect is produced. And while the one occupies the intellect, the other impresses the soul. The mind that has lost through its philosophy the power of feeling this emotion of awe in such scenes has sunk, not risen. Its possessor has made himself inferior, not superior to the rest of his species, by having paralysed one of his susceptibilities of pleasure. To him an eclipse is only curious and wonderful, to others it is sublime. The soldiers of Alexander were extremely terrified, a great panic spread throughout the encampment. Alexander himself, instead of attempting to allay their fears by reasoning, or treating them as of no importance, immediately gave the subject his most serious attention. He called together the soothsayers, and directed them to consult together, and let him know what this great phenomenon portended. This mere committing of the subject to the attention of the soothsayers had a great effect among all the soldiers of the army. It calmed them. It changed their agitation and terror into a feeling of suspense, in a way to the answer of the soothsayers, which was far less painful and dangerous. And at length, when the answer came, it laid their anxiety and fear altogether. The soothsayers said that the sun was on Alexander's side, and the moon on that of the Persians, and that this sudden waning of her light foreshadowed the defeat and destruction which the Persians were about to undergo. The army was satisfied with this decision, and were inspired with new confidence in our door. It is often idle to attempt to oppose ignorance and absurdity, by such feeble instruments as truth and reason. And the wisest managers of mankind have generally been most successful, when their plan has been to counteract one folly, by means of the influence of another. Alexander's army consisted of about fifty thousand men, with the phalanx in the center. This army moved along down the eastern bank of the Tegris. The Scouts pressing forward as far as possible in every direction in front of the main army, in order to get intelligence of the foe. It is in this way that two great armies feel after each other, as it were, like insects creeping over the ground, exploring the way before them with their antennae. At length, after three days' advance, the Scouts came in with intelligence of the enemy. Alexander pressed forward with the detachment of his army to meet them. They proved to be, however, not the main body of Darius's army, but only a single core of a thousand men in advance of the rest. They retreated as Alexander approached. He however succeeded in capturing some horsemen, who gave the information that Darius had assembled his vast forces on the plain of Arbila, and was waiting there in readiness to give his advancing enemy battle. Alexander halted his troops. He formed an encampment, and made arrangements for depositing his baggage there. He refreshed the men, examined and repaired their arms, and made the arrangements for battle. These operations consumed several days. At the end of that time, early one morning, long before day, the camp was in motion, and the columns, armed and equipped for immediate contest, moved forward. They expected to have reached the camp of Darius at daybreak, but the distance was greater than they had supposed. At length, however, the Macedonians in their march came upon the brow of a range of hills, from which they looked down upon numberless and endless lines of infantry and cavalry, and ranges after ranges of tents which filled the plain. With the army paused, while Alexander examined the field, studying for a long time and with great attention, the numbers and disposition of the enemy. They were four miles distance still, but the murmuring sounds of their voices and movements came to the ears of the Macedonians, through the calm or tumble air. Alexander called the leading officers together, and held a consultation on the question whether to march down and attack the Persians on the plain that night, or to wait till the next day. Pominia was in favour of a night attack, in order to surprise the enemy by coming upon them at an unexpected time. But Alexander said no. He was sure of victory. He had got his enemies all before him, they were fully in his power. He would therefore take no advantage, but would attack them fairly and in open day. Alexander had fifty thousand men. The Persians were variously estimated between five hundred thousand and a million. There is something sublime in the idea of such a pause, made by the Macedonian phallux and its wings, on the slope of the hills, suspending its attack upon ten times its number, to give the mighty mass of their enemies a chance of a fair and equal contest. Alexander made congratulatory addresses to his soldiers, on the occasion of their having now at last before him, what they had so long toiled and laboured to attain. The whole concentrated force of the Persian Empire. They were now going to contend, not for single provinces and kingdoms, as here too for, but for great empire, and the victory which they were about to achieve, which plays them on the summit of human glory. In all that he said on the subject, the unquestionable certainty of his victory was assumed. Alexander completed his arrangements and then retired to rest. He went to sleep. At least he appeared to do so. He and the morning Parmenia arose, summoned the men to their posts, and arranged everything for the march. He then went to Alexander's tent. Alexander was still asleep. He awoke him and told him that all was ready. Parmenia expressed surprise at his sleeping so quietly, at a time when such vast issues were at stake. You seem as calm, said he, as if you had had the battle and gained the victory. I have done so, said Alexander. I consider the whole work done when we have gained access to Darius and his forces, and find him ready to give us battle. Alexander soon appeared at the head of his troops. Of course this day was one of the most important ones of his life, and one of the historians at the time has preserved an account of his dress as he went into battle. He wore a short tunic, girt close around him, and over it a linen breastplate, strongly quilted. The belt by which the tunic was held was embossed with figures of beautiful workmanship. This belt was a present to him from some of the people of the conquered countries through which he had passed, and it was very much admired. He had a helmet upon his head of polished steel, with a neckpiece also of steel, ornamented with precious stones. His helmet was surmounted with a white plume. His sword, which was so present to him from the king of Cyprus, was very light and slender, and of the most perfect temper. He carried also a shield and a lance, made in the best possible manner for use, not for display. Thus his dress corresponded with the character his action. It was simple, compact, and whatever of value it possessed consisted in those substantial excellences, which would give the bearer the greatest efficiency on the field of battle. The Persians were accustomed to make use of elephants in their wars. They also had chariots with size placed at their axles, which they were accustomed to drive among their enemies and mow them down. Alexander resorted to none of these contrivances. There was the phalanx, the terrible phalanx, advancing irresistibly, either in one body or in detachments, with columns of infantry and flying troops of horsemen on the wings. Alexander relied simply on the strength, the courage, the energy, and the calm and steady but resistless ardor of his men, arranging them in simple combinations, and leading them forward directly to their work. Macedonians cut their way through the mighty mass of their enemies with irresistible force. The elephants turned and fled. The foot soldiers seized the horses of some of the scytharm chariots and cut the traces. In respect to others they opened to the right and left and let them pass through, when they were easily captured by the men in the rear. In the meantime the phalanx pressed on, enjoying a great advantage in the level nature of the ground. The Persian troops broke in upon and drove in a way wherever they were attacked. In a word, before night the whole mighty mass was scattering everywhere in confusion, except some hundreds of thousands left trampled upon and dead, or else writhing upon the ground and groaning in their dying agonies. This himself fled. Alexander pursued him with a troop of horse as far as Arbila, which had been Darius's headquarters, and where he had deposited immense treasures. Darius had gone through and escaped when Alexander arrived at Arbila, but the city and the treasures fell into Alexander's hands. Although Alexander had been so completely victorious over his enemies on the day of battle, and had maintained his ground against them with such invincible power. He was nevertheless a few days afterward, driven entirely off the field and completely away from the region where the battle had been fought. What the living men standing erect in arms, and full of martial vigor could not do, was easily and effectually accomplished by their dead bodies corrupting on the plain. The corpses of three hundred thousand men and an equal bulk of the bodies of elephants and horses was too enormous a mass to be buried. It had to be abandoned, and the horrible efflux and pestilence which he had admitted drove all the inhabitants of the country away. Alexander marched his troops rapidly off the ground, leaving, as the direct result of the battle, a wide extent of country depopulated a desolate, with the vast mass of putrification and pestilence raining in awful silence and solitude in the midst of it. Alexander went to Babylon. The governor of the city prepared to receive him as a conqueror. The people came out in throngs to meet him, and all the avenues of approach were crowded with spectators. All the city walls, too, were covered with men and women assembled to witness the scene. As for Alexander himself, he was filled with pride and pleasure, at thus arriving at the full accomplishment of his earliest and long cherished dreams of glory. The great storehouse of the royal treasures of Persia was at Susa, a strong city east of Babylon. Susa was the winter residence of the Persian kings. Azek Bactna, further north, among the mountains, was their summer residence. There was a magnificent place and a very strong citadel at Susa, and the treasures were kept in the citadel. It is said that in times of peace the Persian monarchs had been accustomed to collect coin, melt it down, and cast the gold and earthen jars. The jars were afterward broken off from the gold, leaving the bullion in the form of the interior of the jars. An immense amount of gold and silver and of other treasures had been thus collected. Alexander was aware of this depository before he advanced to meet Darius, and on a day of battle of Arbila, as soon as the victory was decided, he sent an officer from the very field to summon Susa to surrender. They obeyed the summons, and Alexander, soon after his great public entrance into Babylon, marched to Susa, and took possession of the vast stores of wealth accumulated there. The amount was enormous, both in quantity and value, and the seizing of it was a very magnificent act of plunder. In fact, it is probable that Alexander's slaughter of the Persian army at Arbila, and the subsequent spoilation of Susa, constitute, taken together, the most gigantic case of murder and robbery, which was ever committed by man. So that, in performing these deeds, the great hero attained at last the glory of having perpetrated the grandest and most imposing of all human crimes. But these deeds were really crimes that can be no doubt. When we consider that Alexander did not pretend to have any other motive in this invasion than love of conquest, which is, in other words, love of violence and plunder, they are only technically shielded from being called crimes, by the fact that the earth has no laws and no tribunals high enough to condemn such enormous burglaries as that of one quarter of the globe, breaking violently and mergersly in upon and robbing the other. Besides the treasures, Alexander found also at Susa a number of trophies which had been brought by Xerxes from Greece. For Xerxes had invaded Greece some hundred years before Alexander's day, and had brought to Susa the spoils and the trophies of his victories. Alexander sent them all back to Greece again. From Susa the conqueror moved on to Persepolis, the great Persian capital. On his march he had to pass through it to follow the mountains. The mountaineers had been accustomed to exact tribute here of all who passed, having a sort of right, derived from ancient usage, to the payment of a toll. They sent to Alexander when they heard that he was approaching, and informed him that he could not pass with his army without paying the customary toll. Alexander sent back word that he would meet them at the pass, and give them their due. They understood this, and prepared to defend the pass. Some Persian troops joined them. They built walls and barricades along the narrow passage. They collected great stones on the brinks of precipices, and on the delclivities of the mountains, to roll down upon the heads of their enemies. By these and every other means they attempted to stop Alexander's passage, but he had contrived to send attachments around by circuitous and precipitous paths, which even the mountaineers had deemed impracticable, and thus attack his enemies suddenly and unexpectedly from above their own positions. As usual his plan succeeded. The mountaineers were drawn away, and the conqueror advanced towards the great Persian capital. End of Chapter 9 Section 10 of Alexander the Great This is the Librivox Recording, all Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org. Recording by Lizzie Driver. Alexander the Great by Jacob Abbott Section 10 The Death of Darius March from Susa to Persepolis was less a march than a triumphal progress. He felt the pride in elation so naturally resulting from success very strongly. The moderation and forbearance which had characterised him in his earlier years gradually disappeared as he became great and powerful. He was intoxicated with his success. He became haughty, vain, capricious and cruel. As he approached Persepolis, he conceived the idea that, as this city was the capital and centre of the Persian monarchy, and as such, the point from which it emanated all the Persian hostility to Greece, he owed it some signal retribution. Accordingly, although the inhabitants made no opposition to his entrance, he marched in with the phalanx-formed, and gave the soldiers liberty to kill and plunder as they pleased. It was another very striking instance in the capricious recklessness now beginning to appear in Alexander's character, which occurred soon after he had taken possession of Persepolis. He was giving a great banquet to his friends, the officers of the army, and to Persians of distinction among those who had submitted to him. There was, among other women at this banquet, a very beautiful and accomplished female named Thasys. Alexander made her his favourite and companion, though she was not his wife. Thasys did all in her power to captivate and please Alexander during the feast by her vivacity, her wit, her adroit detentions to him, and the display of her charms. And at length, when he himself as well as the other guests were excited with wine, she asked him to allow her to have the pleasure of going herself and setting fire, with her own hands, to the great palace of the Persian kings in the city. Thasys was a native of Attica in Greece, a kingdom of which Athens was the capital. Xerxes, who had built the great palace of Persepolis, had formally invaded Greece and had burned Athens. And now Thasys desired to burn his palace in Persepolis to gratify her revenge by making, of its conflagration, an evening spectacle to entertain the Macedonian party after their supper. Alexander agreed to the proposal, and the whole company moved forward. Taking the tortures from the banqueting hall, they sallied forth, alarming the city with their shouts, and with the flashing of the lights they bore. The plan of Thasys was carried fully into effect, every half intoxicated guest assisting, but putting fire to the immense pile wherever they could get access to it. They performed the barbarous deed with shouts of vengeance and exultation. There is, however, something very solemn and awful in a great conflagration at night, and very few incendiaries can gaze upon the fury of the lurid and frightful flames which they have caused to ascend, without some misgivings and some remorse. Alexander was sobered by the grand and sublime but terrible spectacle. He was awed by it. He repented. He ordered the fire to be extinguished, but it was too late. The palace was destroyed, and one new blot, which has never since been afaced, was cast upon Alexander's character and fame. And yet, notwithstanding these increasing proofs of pride and cruelty which were beginning to be developed, Alexander still preserved some of the early traits of character, which had made him so great a favourite in the commencement of his career. He loved his mother, and lent her presence continually from the treasures which were falling all the time into his possession. She was a woman of a proud, imperious, and ungovernable character. And she made Antipater, whom Alexander had left in command in Macedon, infinite trouble. She wanted to exercise the powers of government herself, and was continually urging this. But Alexander would not comply with these wishes. But he paid her personally every attention in his power, and bore all her invictives and reproaches with great patience and good humour. At one time he received a long letter from Antipater, full of complaint against her. Bert Alexander, after reading it, said that they were heavy-charges it was true, that a single one of his mother's tears would outweigh ten thousand such accusations. Olympias used to write very frequently to Alexander, and in these letters she would criticise and discuss his proceedings, and make comments upon the characters and actions of his generals. Alexander kept these letters very secret, never showing them to any one. One day, however, when he was reading one of these letters, Hephaestion, the personal friend and companion, who has been already several times mentioned, came up half playfully, and began to look over his shoulder. Alexander went on, allowing him to read. And then, when the letter was finished, he took the signet ring from his finger, and pressed it upon Hephaestion's lips, a signal for silence and secrecy. Alexander was very kind to Cingambis, the mother of Darius, and also to Darius's children. He would not give these unhappy captives their liberty, but in every other respect he treated them with the greatest possible kindness and consideration. He called to Cingambis' mother, loaded her with presents, presents it is true which he had plundered from her son, but to which it was considered in those days that he had acquired a just and perfect title. When he reached Susa, he established Cingambis and the children there in great state. This had been their usual residence in most seasons of the year, when not in Persepolis, so that here they were as it were at home. Ekpatana was, as has already been mentioned, further north among the mountains. After the battle of Arbila, while Alexander marched to Babylon and to Susa, Darius had fled to Ekpatana, and was now there, his family being thus at one of the royal palaces under the command of the conqueror, and he himself independent, but insecure in the other. He had with him about forty thousand men, who still remained faithful to his fallen fortunes. Among these were several thousand Greeks, whom he had collected in Asia Minor and other Grecian countries, and whom he had attached to his service by means of pay. He called to the officers of his army together, and explained to them the determination that he had come to in respect to his future movements. A large party of those, said he, who formerly served as officers of my government, have abandoned me in my adversity, and gone over to Alexander's side. They have surrendered to him the towns and citadels and provinces, which are entrusted to their fidelity. You alone remain faithful and true. As for myself, I might yield to the conqueror, and have him assigned to me some province or kingdom to govern as his subordinate, but I will never submit to such a degradation. I can die in the struggle, but never will I yield. I will wear no crown which another puts upon my brow, nor give up my rights to reign over the empire of my ancestors till I give up my life. If you agree with me in this determination, let us act energetically upon it. We have it in our power to terminate the injuries we are suffering, or else to avenge them. The army responded most cordially to this appeal. They were ready, they said, to follow him wherever he should lead. For this apparent enthusiasm, however, was very delusive and unsubstantial. A general named Bessus, combining with some other officers in the army, convinced the plan of seizing Darius and making him a prisoner, and then taking command of the army himself. If Alexander should pursue him, and be likely to overtake and conquer him, he then thought that, by giving up Darius as a prisoner, he could stipulate for liberty and safety, and perhaps great rewards, both for himself and for those who acted with him. If, on the other hand, they should succeed in increasing their own forces, so as to make head against Alexander, and finally to drive him away, then Bessus was to usurp the throne, and dispose of Darius by assassinating him, or imprisoning him for life in some remote and solitary castle. Bessus communicated his plans, very cautiously at first, to the leading officers of the army. The Greek soldiers were not included in the plot. They, however, heard and saw enough to lead them to suspect what was in preparation. They warned Darius, and urged him to rely upon them more than he had done, to make them his bodyguard, and to pitch his tent in their part of the encampment. But Darius declined these proposals. He would not, he said, distrust and abandon his countrymen, who were his natural protectors, and put himself in the hands of strangers. He would not betray and desert his friends, in anticipation of their deserting and betraying him. In the meantime, as Alexander advanced towards Ekbetana, Darius and his forces retreated from it toward the eastward, through the great tract of country lying south of the Caspian Sea. There is a mountainous region here, with a defile traversing it, through which it would be necessary for Darius to pass. This defile was called the Caspian Gates, the name referring to rocks on each side. The marching of an army through a narrow and dangerous defile like this always caused a detention and delay, and Alexander hastened forward in hopes to overtake Darius before he should reach it. He advanced with such speed that only the strongest and most robust of his army could keep up. Thousands, worn out with exertion and toil, were left behind, and many of the horses sank down by the roadside, exhausted with heat and fatigue, to die. Darius had to press desperately on with all who were able to follow. It was all in vain, however. It was too late when he arrived at the pass. Darius had gone through with all his army. Alexander stopped to rest his men, and to allow time for those behind to catch up. He then went on for a couple of days, when he encamped, in order to send out foraging parties. That is to say, small detachments, dispatched to explore the surrounding country in search of grain and other food for the horses. Food for the horses of an army being too bulky to be transported far, has to be collected day by day from the neighbourhood of the line of march. While halting for these foraging parties to return, a Persian nobleman came into the camp, and informed Alexander that Darius and the forces accompanying him were encamped about two days' march in advance, but that Bessers was in command, the conspiracy having been successful, and Darius having been deposed and made a prisoner. The Greeks, who had a dear to their fidelity, finding that all the army were combined against them, and that they were not strong enough to resist, had abandoned the Persian camp, and had returned to the mountains where they were awaiting the result. Alexander determined to set forward immediately in pursuit of Bessers and his prisoner. He did not wait for the return of the foraging parties. He selected the ablest and most active, both the foot soldiers and horsemen, ordered them to take two days' provisions, and then set forth with them that very evening. The party pressed on all that night, and the next day till noon. They halted till evening, and then set forth again. Very early the next morning they arrived at the encampment which the Persian nobleman had described. They found the remains of the campfires, and all the marks usually left upon a spot, which has been used as the bivouac of an army. The army itself, however, was gone. The pursuers were now too much fatigued to go on any further without rest. Alexander remained here accordingly through the day, to give his men and his horses refreshment and repose. That night they set forward again, and the next day till noon they arrived at another encampment of the Persians, which they had left scarcely twenty-four hours before. The officers of Alexander's army were excited and animated in the highest degree, as they found themselves thus drawing so near to the great object of their pursuit. Any privation and fatigue, any measures, however extraordinary, to accomplish their end, they were ready for any excitations. Alexander inquired of the inhabitants of the place, whether they were not some shorter road than the one among which the enemy were moving. There was one crossroad, but it led through a desolate and desert tract of land, destitute of water. In the march of an army, as the men are always heavily loaded with arms and provisions, and water cannot be carried, it is always considered essential to choose routes which will furnish supplies of water by the way. Alexander, however, disregarded this consideration here, and prepared it once to push into the crossroad with a small detachment. He had been now two years advancing from Macedon into the heart of Asia, always in quest of Darius, as his great opponent and enemy. He had conquered his armies, taken his cities, plundered his palaces, and made himself master of his whole realm. Still, so long as Darius himself remained at liberty and in the field, no victories could be considered as complete. To capture Darius himself would be the last and crowning act of his conquest. He had now been pursuing him for eighteen hundred miles, advancing slowly from province to province, and from kingdom to kingdom. During all this time the strength of his flying foe had been wasting away. His armies had been broken up, his courage and hope had gradually failed, while the animation and hope of the pursuer had been gathering fresh and increasing strength from his successes, and were excited to wild enthusiasm now, as the hour for his final consummation of all his desires seemed to be drawing nigh. Guides were ordered to be furnished by the inhabitants, to show the detachment the way across the solitary and desert country. The detachment was to consist of horsemen entirely, that they might advance with the utmost celerity. To get as sufficient a corps as possible, Alexander dismounted five hundred of the cavalry, and gave their horses to five hundred men, officers and others, selected for their strength and courage from among the foot soldiers. All were ambitious of being designated for this service. Despite the honour of being so selected, there was an intense excitement, as usual toward the close of a chase, to arrive at the end. This body of horsemen were ready to set out in the evening. Alexander took the command, and, following the guides, they trotted off in the direction which the guides indicated. They travelled all night. When the day dawned they saw, from an elevation to which they had attained, the body of the Persian troops moving at a short distance before them. Foot soldiers, chariots and horsemen, pressing on together into great confusion and disorder. As soon as Bess's and his company found that their pursuers were close upon them, they attempted at first to hurry forward, in the vain hope of still affecting their escape. Darius was in a chariot. They urged this chariot on, but it moved heavily. Then they concluded to abandon it, and they called upon Darius to mount a horse and ride off with them, leaving the rest of the army in the baggage to its fate. But Darius refused. He said he would rather trust himself in the hands of Alexander than in those of such traitors as they. Rendered desperate by their situation, and exasperated by this reply, Bess's and his confederates thrust their spears into Darius's body, as he sat in his chariot, and then galloped away. They divided into different parties, each taking a different road. Their object in doing this was to increase their chances of escape by confusing Alexander and his plans for pursuing them. Alexander pressed on toward the ground which the enemy were abandoning, and sent off separate attachments after the various divisions of the flying army. In the meantime, Darius remained in his chariot wounded and bleeding. He was worn out and exhausted, both in body and mind, by his complicated sufferings and sorrows. His kingdom lost, his family in captivity, his beloved wife in the grave, where the sorrows and sufferings of separation from her husband had borne her, his cities sacked, his palaces and treasures plundered, and now, he himself, in the last hour of his extremity, abandoned and betrayed by all in whom he had placed his confidence and trust. His heart sunk within him in despair. At such a time the soul turns from traitorous friends to an open foe with something like a feeling of confidence and attachment. Darius' exasperation against Bessus was so intense that his hostility to Alexander became a species of friendship in comparison. He felt that Alexander was a sovereign like himself, and would have some sympathy and fellow feeling for a sovereign's misfortunes. He thought too of his mother, his wife and his children, and the kindness with which Alexander had treated them went to his heart. He lay there accordingly, faint and bleeding in his chariot, and looking for the coming of Alexander as for that of a protector and friend, the only one to whom he could now look for any relief in the extremity of his distress. The Macedonian searched about in various places, thinking it possible that in the sudden dispersion of the enemy Darius might have been left behind. At last the chariot in which he was lying was found. Darius was in it, pierced with spears. The floor of the chariot was covered with blood. They raised him a little and he spoke. He called for water. Men wounded and dying on the field of battle, are tormented always with an insatiable and intolerable thirst. The manifestations of which constitute one of the greatest horrors of the scene. They cry piteously to all who pass to bring them water, or else to kill them. They crawl along the ground to get at the canteens of their dead companions. In hopes to find, remaining in them, some drops to drink. And if there is a little brook meandering through the battlefield, its bed gets filled and choked up with the bodies of those who crawled there, in their agony to quench their horrible thirst and die. Darius was suffering this thirst. It bore down and silenced for the time, every other suffering. So that his first cry, when his enemies came around him with shouts of exaltation, was not for his life, not for mercy, not for relief from the pain and anguish of his wounds. He begged them to give him some water. He spoke through an interpreter. The interpreter was a Persian prisoner, whom the Macedonian army had taken some time before, and who had learned the Greek language in the Macedonian camp. Anticipating some occasion for his services, they had brought him with them now, and it was through him that Darius called for water. A Macedonian soldier went immediately to get some. Others hurried away in search of Alexander, to bring him to the spot where the great object of his hostility and of his long and protracted pursuit was dying. Darius received the drink. He then said that he was extremely glad that they had an interpreter with them, who could understand him, and bear his message to Alexander. He had been afraid that he should have had to die without being able to communicate what he had to say. Tell Alexander, said he then, that I feel under the strongest obligations to him, which I can now never repay, for his kindness to my wife, my mother, and my children. He not only spared their lives, but treated them with the greatest consideration and care, and did all in his power to make them happy. The last feeling in my heart is gratitude to him for these favours. I hope now that he will go on prosperously, and finish his conquests as triumphantly as he has begun them. He would have made one last request, he added, if he had thought it necessary. And that was, that Alexander would pursue the traitor Bessus, and avenge the murder he had committed. But he was sure that Alexander would do this of his own accord, as the punishment of such treachery was an object of common interest for every king. Darius then took Polystratus, the Macedonian who had brought in the water, by the hand, saying, Give Alexander thy hand, as I now give thee mine. It is the pledge of my gratitude and affection. Darius was too weak to say much more. They gathered around him endeavouring to sustain his strength until Alexander should arrive. But it was all in vain. He sent gradually, and soon ceased to breathe. Alexander came up a few minutes after all was over. He was at first shocked at the spectacle before him, and then overwhelmed with grief. He wept bitterly. Some compunctions of conscious may have visited his heart at seeing thus before him the ruin he had made. Darius had never injured him, or done him any wrong. And yet here he lay, hunted to death by a preserving and relentless hostility, for which his conqueror had no excuse but his innate love of dominion over his fellow men. Alexander spread his own military cloak over the dead body. He immediately made arrangements for having the body embalmed, and then sent it to Sousa, for Cisngambis, in a very costly coffin, and with a procession of royal magnificence. He sent it to her that she might have the satisfaction of seeing it deposited in the tombs of the Persian kings. What a present! The killer of a son sending the dead body in a splendid coffin to the mother as a token of respectful regard. Alexander pressed on to the northward and eastward in pursuit of Bessus, who had soon collected the scattered remains of his army, and was doing his utmost to get into a posture of defence. He did not, however, overtake him till he had crossed the oxus, a large river which will be found upon the map, flowing to the northward and westward into the Caspian Sea. He had great difficulty in crossing this river, as it was too deep to be forwarded, and the banks and bottom were so sandy and yielding that he could not make the foundations of bridges stand. He accordingly made floats and rafts, which were supported by skins made buoyant by inflation, or by being stuffed with straw and hay. After getting his army, which had been in the meantime greatly reinforced and strengthened across this river, he moved on. The generals under Bessus, finding all hope of escape failing them, resolved on betraying him as he had betrayed his commander. They sent word to Alexander, that if he would send forward a small force where they should indicate, they would give up Bessus to his hands. Alexander did so, entrusting the command to an officer named Ptolemy. Ptolemy found Bessus in a small walled town where he had fled for refuge, and easily took him prisoner. He sent word back to Alexander that Bessus was at his disposal, and asked for orders. The answer was, put a rope around his neck and send him to me. When the wretched prisoner was brought into Alexander's presence, Alexander demanded of him how he could have been so base, as to have seized, bound, and at last murdered his kinsmen and benefactor. It is a curious instance in proof of the permanence and stability of the great characteristics of human nature, through all the changes of civilization and lapses of time, that Bessus gave the same answer that wrongdoers almost always give when brought to account for their wrongs. He laid the fold upon its accomplices and friends. It was not his act, it was theirs. Alexander ordered him to be publicly scourged, then he caused his face to be mutilated in a manner customary in those days. An attirent wish to stamp upon his victim, a perpetual mark of infamy. In this condition, and with a mind in the agony of suspense and fear at the thought of worse tortures which he knew were to come, Alexander sent him as a second present assistant gambus, to be dealt with at Susa, as her revenge might direct. She inflicted upon him the most extreme tortures, and finally, when satiated with the pleasure of seeing him suffer, the story is that they chose four very elastic trees, growing at a little distance from each other, and bent down the tops of them toward the central point between them. They fastened the exhausted and dying Bessus to these trees, one limb of his body to each, and then, releasing the stems from their confinement, they flew upward, tearing the body asunder. Each holding its own dissevered portion, as if in triumph, far over the heads of the multitude assembled to witness a spectacle. CHAPTER X In 2011, deterioration of character, Alexander was now twenty-six years of age. He had accomplished fully the great objects which had been the aim of his ambition. Darius was dead, and he was himself the undisputed master of all Western Asia. His wealth was almost boundless. His power was supreme over what was, in his view, the whole known world. But during the process of rising to this ascendancy, his character was sadly changed. He lost the simplicity, the temperance, the moderation, and the sense of justice which characterised his early years. He adopted the dress and the luxurious manners of the Persians. He lived in the palaces of the Persian kings, imitating all their state and splendour. He became very fond of convivial entertainments and of wine, and often drank to excess. He provided himself with a sorralio of three hundred and sixty young females, in whose company he spent his time, giving himself up to every form of effeminacy and dissipation. In a word, he was no longer the same man. The decision, the energy of character, the steady pursuit of great ends by prudence, forethought, patient effort, and self-denial, all disappeared. Nothing now seemed to interest him but banquets, carousels, parties of pleasure, and whole days and nights spent in dissipation and vice. This state of things was a great course of modification and chagrin to the officers of his army. Many of them were older than himself, and better able to resist these temptations to luxury, effeminacy, and vice. They therefore remained firm in their original simplicity and integrity, and after some respectful, but in infectious remonstrances, they stood aloof, alienated from their commander in heart, and condemning very strongly among themselves his wickedness and folly. On the other hand, many of the younger officers followed Alexander's example, and became as vain, as irregular, and as fond of vicious indulgence as he. But then, though they joined him in his pleasures, there was no strong bond of union between him and then. The tie which binds mere companions in pleasure together is always very slight and frail. Thus Alexander gradually lost the confidence and affection of his old friends, and gained no new ones. His officers either disapproved his conduct, and were distant and cold, or else joined him in his dissipation and vice, without feeling any real respect for his character, or being bound to him by any principle of fidelity. Parmenio and his son Filotis were, respectfully, striking examples of these two kinds of character. Parmenio was an old general, now considerably advanced in life. He had served, as has already been stated, under Philip, Alexander's father, and had acquired great experience and great fame before Alexander succeeded to the throne. During the whole of Alexander's career Parmenio had been his principal lieutenant general, and he had always placed his greatest reliance upon him in all trying emergencies. He was cool, calm, intrepid, sagacious. He held Alexander back from many rash enterprises, and was the efficient means of his accomplishing most of his plans. It is the custom among all nations to give kings the glory of all that is affected by their generals and officers. And the writers of those days would, of course, in narrating the exploits of the Macedonian army, exaggerate the share which Alexander had in their performances, and underrate those of Parmenio. But in modern times many impartial readers, in reviewing calmly these events, think that there is reason to doubt whether Alexander, if he had set out on his great expedition without Parmenio, would have succeeded at all. Philatos was the son of Parmenio, but he was of a very different character. The difference was one which is very often, in all ages of the world, to be observed between those who inherit greatness, and those who acquire it for themselves. We see the same analogy reigning at the present day, when the sons of the wealthy who are born to fortune substitute pride and arrogance and vicious self-indulgence and waste for the modesty and prudence and virtue of their sires, by means of which the fortune was acquired. Philatos was proud, boastful, extravagant and addicted, like Alexander his master, to every species of indulgence and dissipation he was universally hated. His father, out of patience with his haughty heirs, his boastings, and his pomp and parade, advised him one day, to make himself less. But Parmenio's prudent advice to his son was thrown away. Philatos spoke of himself as Alexander's great reliance. What would Philip have been or have done, said he, without my father Parmenio? And what would Alexander have been or have done, without me? These things were reported to Alexander, and thus the mind of each was filled with suspicion, fear and hatred toward the other. Courts and camps are always the scenes of conspiracy and treason, and Alexander was continually hearing of conspiracies and plots formed against him. The strong sentiment of love and devotion with which he inspired all around him at the commencement of his career was now gone, and his generals and officers were continually planning schemes to depose him from the power which he seemed no longer to have the energy to wield. Or at least Alexander was continually suspecting that such plans were formed, and he was kept in a continual state of uneasiness and anxiety in discovering and punishing them. At last a conspiracy occurred in which Philatos was implicated. Alexander was informed one day that a plot had been formed to depose and destroy him. That Philatos had been made acquainted with it by a friend of Alexander's, in order that he might make it known to the king. That he had neglected to do so, thus making it probable that he was himself in league with the conspirators. Alexander was informed that the leader and originator of this conspiracy was one of his generals named Dymness. He immediately sent an officer to Dymness to summon him into his presence. Dymness appeared to be struck with consternation at this summons. Instead of obeying it, he drew his sword, thrusted into his own heart, and fell dead upon the ground. Alexander then sent for Philatos, and asked him if it was indeed true that he had been informed of this conspiracy, and had neglected to make it known. Philatos replied that he had been told that such a plot was formed, but that he did not believe it. That such stories were continually invented by the malice of evil-disposed men. And that he had not considered the report which came to his ears as worthy of any attention. He was, however, now convinced, by the terror which Dymness had manifested and by his suicide, that all was true. And he asked Alexander's pardon for not having taken immediate measures for communicating promptly the information he had received. Alexander gave him his hand, and said that he was convinced that he was innocent, and had acted as he did from disbelief in the existence of the conspiracy, and not from any guilty participation in it. So Philatos went away to his tent. Alexander, however, did not drop the subject here. He called a counsel of his ablest and best friends and advisors, consisting of the principal officers of his army, and laid the facts before them. They came to a different conclusion from him in respect to the guilt of Philatos. They believed him implicated in the crime, and demanded his trial. Trial in such a case, in those days, meant putting the accused to the torture, with a view of forcing him to confess his guilt. Alexander yielded to this proposal. Perhaps he had secretly instigated it. The advisors of kings and conquerors, in such circumstances as this, generally had the sagacity to discover what advice will be agreeable. At all events Alexander followed the advice of his councillors, and made arrangements for arresting Philatos on that very evening. These circumstances occurred at a time when the army was preparing for a march. The various generals lodging in tents pitched for the purpose. Alexander placed extra guards in various parts of the encampment, as if to impress the whole army with a sense of the importance and solemnity of the occasion. He then sent officers to the tent of Philatos, late at night, to arrest him. The officers found their unhappy victim asleep. They awoke him, and made known their errand. Philatos arose, and obeyed the summons, dejected and distressed, aware apparently that his destruction was impending. The next morning Alexander called together a large assembly, consisting of the principal and most important portions of the army, to the number of several thousands. They came together with an air of impressive solemnity, expecting from the preliminary preparations that business of a very solemn moment was to come before them, though they knew not what it was. These impressions of awe and solemnity were very much increased by the spectacle which first met the eyes of the assembly after they were convened. This spectacle was that of the dead body of dimeness, bloody and ghastly which Alexander ordered to be brought in and exposed to view. The death of dimness had been kept a secret, so that the appearance of his body was an unexpected as well as a shocking sight. When the first feeling of surprise and wonder had a little subsided, Alexander explained to the assembly the nature of the conspiracy, and the circumstances connected with the self-execution of one of the guilty participators in it. The spectacle of the body and the statement of the king produced a scene of great and universal excitement in the assembly, and this excitement was raised to the highest pitch by the announcement which Alexander now made, that he had reason to believe that Philatos and his father Parmenio, officers who had enjoyed his highest favour, and in whom he had placed the most unbounded confidence, were the authors and originators of the whole design. He then ordered Philatos to be brought in. He came guarded as a criminal, with his hands tied behind him, and his head covered with a coarse cloth. He was in a state of great dejection and despondency. It is true that he was brought forward for trial, but he knew very well that trial meant torture, and that there was no hope for him as to the result. Alexander said that he would leave the accused to be dealt with by the assembly and withdrew. The authorities of the army, who now had the proud and domineering spirit which had so long excited their hatred and envy completely in their power, listened for a time to what Philatos had to say in his own justification. He showed them that there was no evidence whatever against him, and appealed to their sense of justice, not to condemn him on mere vague surmises. In reply they decided to put him to the torture. There was no evidence it was true, and they wished accordingly to supply its place by his own confession, exhorted by pain. Of course his most invertebrate and implacable enemies were appointed to conduct the operation. They put Philatos upon the rack. The rack is an instrument of wheels and pulleys into which the victim is placed, and his limbs and tendons are stretched by it in a manner which produces most excruciating pain. Philatos bore the beginning of his torture with great resolution and fortitude. He made no complaint. He uttered no cry. This was the signal to his executioners to increase the tension and the agony. Of course, in such a trial as this, there was no question of guilt or innocence at issue. The only question was which could stand out the longest, his enemies in witnessing horrible sufferings, or he himself in enduring them. In this contest the unhappy Philatos was vanquished at last. He begged them to release him from the rack, saying he would confess whatever they required, on condition of being allowed to die in peace. They accordingly released him, and in answer to their questions he confessed that he himself and his father were involved in the plot. He said yes to various other inquiries relating to the circumstances of the conspiracy, and the guilt to various individuals, whom those that managed the torture had suspected, or who at any rate they wished to have condemned. The answers of Philatos to all these questions were written down, and he himself was sentenced to be stoned. The sentence was put in execution without any delay. During all this time Parmenia was in Medea, in command of a very important part of Alexander's army. It was decreed that he must die, but some careful management was necessary to secure his execution, while he was at so great a distance, and at the head of so great a force. The affair had to be conducted with great secrecy, as well as dispatch. The plan adopted was as follows. There was a certain man named Polydamus, who was regarded as Parmenia's particular friend. Polydamus was commissioned to go to Medea and see the execution performed. He was selected, because it was supposed that if any enemy, or a stranger had been sent, Parmenia would have received him with suspicion, or at least with caution, and kept himself on guard. They gave Polydamus several letters to Parmenia, as if from his friends, and to one of them they attached the seal of his son Philatos, the more completely to deceive the unhappy father. Polydamus was eleven days on his journey into Medea. He had letters to Cleander, the governor of the province of Medea, which contained the king's warrant for Parmenia's execution. He arrived at the house of Cleander in the night. He delivered his letters, and they together concerted the plans of carrying the execution into effect. After having taken all the precautions necessary, Polydamus went, with many attendants accompanying him to the quarters of Parmenia. The old general, for he was at this time eighty years of age, was walking in his grounds. Polydamus being admitted, ran up to a costume, with great appearance of cordality and friendship. He delivered to him his letters, and Parmenia read them. He seemed much pleased with their contents, especially with the one which had been written in the name of his son. He had no means of detecting the imposter, for it was very customary in those days for letters to be written by secretaries, and to be authenticated solely by the seal. Parmenia was much pleased to get good tidings from Alexander and from his son, and began conversing upon the contents of the letters, when Polydamus, watching his opportunity, drew forth a dagger which he had concealed upon his person, and plunged it into Parmenia's side. He drew it forth immediately, and struck at his throat. The attendants rushed on at this signal, and thrust their swords again and again into the fallen body, until it ceased to breathe. The death of Parmenia and of his son in this violent matter, when, too, there was so little evidence of their guilt, made a very general and a very unfavourable impression in respect to Alexander. And not long afterwards another case occurred, in some respects still more painful, as it invents still more strikingly that the mind of Alexander, which had been in his earlier days filled with such noble and lofty sentiments of justice and generosity, was gradually getting to be under the supreme dominion of selfish and ungovernable passions. It was the case of Cletus. Cletus was a very celebrated general of Alexander's army, and a great favourite with the king. He had, in fact, on one occasion saved Alexander's life. It was at the Battle of Granicus. Alexander had exposed himself in the thickest of the combat, and was surrounded by enemies. The sword of one of them was actually raised over his head, and would have fallen and killed him on the spot, if Cletus had not rushed forward and cut the man down, just at the instance when he was about striking the blow. Such acts of fidelity and courage as this had given Alexander great confidence in Cletus. It happened, shortly after the death of Parmenio, that the governor of one of the most important provinces of the empire resigned his post. Alexander appointed Cletus to fill the vacancy. The evening before his departure, to take charge of his government, Alexander invited him to a banquet, made partly at least in honour of his elevation. Cletus and the other guests assembled. They drank wine, as usual, with great freedom. Alexander became excited and began to speak, as he was now often accustomed to do, boasting his own exploits, and to disparage those of his father Philip in comparison. Men half intoxicated are very prone to quarrel, and not the less so for being excellent friends when sober. Cletus had served under Philip. He was now an old man, and like other old men, was very tenacious of the glory that belonged to the exploits of his youth. He was very restless and uneasy at hearing Alexander claim for himself, the merit of his father Philip's victory at Caronia, and began to murmur something to those who sat next to him, about kings claiming and getting a great deal of glory which did not belong to them. Alexander asked what it was that Cletus said. No one replied. Cletus however went on talking, speaking more and more audibly as he became gradually more and more excited. He praised the character of Philip, and applauded his military exploits, saying that they were far superior to any of the enterprises of their day. The different parties at the table took up the subject, and began to dispute. The old men taken the part of Philip and former days, and the younger defending Alexander. Cletus became more and more excited. He praised Parmenio, who had been Philip's greatest general, and began to impunge the justice of his late condemnation and death. Alexander retorted, and Cletus, rising from his seat, and losing now all self-command, reproached him with severe and bitter words. Here is the hand, said he, extending his arm, that saved your life at the Battle of Granicus, and the fate of Parmenio shows what sort of gratitude and what rewards faithful servants are to expect at your hands. Alexander, burning with rage, commanded Cletus to leave the table. Cletus obeyed, saying as he moved away, he is right not to bear freeborn men at his table, who can only tell him the truth. He is right. It is fitting for him to pass his life among barbarians and slaves, who will be proud to pay their adoration to his Persian girdle and his splendid robe. Alexander seized a javelin to hurl at Cletus's head. The guests rose in confusion, and with many other outcries pressed around him. Some seized Alexander's arm, some began to hurry Cletus out of the room, and some were engaged in loudly criminating and threatening each other. They got Cletus out of the apartment, but as soon as he was in the hall he broke away from them, returned by another door, and began to renew his insults to Alexander. The king hurled his javelin and struck Cletus down, saying at the same time, go then and join Philip and Parmenio. The company rushed to the rescue of the unhappy man, but it was too late. He died almost immediately. Alexander, as soon as he came to himself, was overwhelmed with remorse and despair. He mourned bitterly for many days the death of his long-tried and faithful friend, and excreted the intoxication and passion on his part which had caused it. He could not, however, restore Cletus to life, nor remove from his own character the indelible stains which such deeds necessarily fixed upon it. End of Section 11