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Thread: [History] The Battle of the Granicus River

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    Default [History] The Battle of the Granicus River



    Author: Phoebus
    Original Thread: The Battle of the Granicus River

    The Battle of the Granicus RiverThis is a long one... bear with me. :original:

    Questions abound where Alexander of Macedon’s career and exploits are concerned. There’s good reason for this. Alexander the Great left us a record full of holes and almost no extant, intact accounts of his campaign and rule written by contemporaries. Even worse, what does survive—either from his era or later times—is almost always tainted by bias, misinformation, propaganda, outright lies, romantic fiction, and mythification. We can say little about Alexander with certainty, and often we can say even less about those who enjoyed his affections or suffered his enmity.

    This level of uncertainty unfortunately applies on those main events that define Alexander’s life and career, his great battles included. As early as a few centuries after his death, estimates of Alexander’s foes at the Granicus ranged from 40,000 horsemen and foreign mercenaries (Ptolemy) to just over 600,000 fighting men (Justin). The sources that do survive to this day in some cases fail to even agree on when the battle took place, or even on its exact location. Over twenty-three centuries after his death, we still make attempts to guess exactly *what* happened during any one of Alexander’s key moments, and this topic is an example of just that.

    Simply for the fun of it all, I offer my take on what happened during the Battle of the Granicus River, fueled by my readings of Diodorus and Arrian’s accounts, and the latest Alexander biography I’ve had the pleasure to go through—Peter Green’s “Alexander of Macedon, 356-323 B.C.—A Historical Biography”.

    Arrian contends that the battle took place in the “late afternoon” of what would have been the 3rd of May in 334 B.C.E. Alexander, obviously aware of the position of the Persian forces and spoiling for a battle, was marching directly for them. His expedition had barely covered a fraction of a fraction of the land he meant to usurp from Dareius III, but his treasury was already nearly empty. A concrete victory against a Persian host would do wonders for his relationships with the local city-states, and lead to the opening of both literal and figurative doors. More importantly, it might even land Alexander a trove of booty large enough to cover payrolls until he managed to secure the treasury of one of Dareius’ regional capitals. Green believes that the 70 talents Alexander had left to his name might have been enough to cover 2 more weeks’ worth of pay for his expeditionary force.

    The Persian forces had camped a fair distance from the Granicus itself, at the town of Zeleia. They were led by a group of Persian noblemen and an acclaimed Hellene mercenary general—Memnon of Rhodes, himself ascended to Persian nobility and tied to aristocracy by marriage. Memnon had likely deduced Alexander’s plight, and had appropriately called for scorched earth tactics, but his suggestion was dismissed out of hands. Whether due by Zoroastrian idealism (where, like in the old Hellenic city-states, the land was sacrosanct), purely economical concerns, or simply by a desire to counter Memnon’s ambitions, Arsites and his cohorts “would not suffer one single subject’s house” to be burnt.

    Alexander had doubtlessly been apprised of their encampment at Zeleia, and thus, driven by his immediate needs, came to them. Arrian describes that he advanced to the Granicus in battle order, with "his infantry in two groups, both wings protected by cavalry, while all transport had orders to follow in the rear.”

    Hegelochus’ scouts returned from the Granicus to report that the Persians had already taken up battle positions across the river. It is at this point that Parmenion delivers the first of his famously cautious pieces of advice to Alexander. Parmenion posits that Alexander should camp for the night, and attack during the day. He outlines the dangers posed by a river crossing: “… To attempt the crossing in the present circumstances would, I think, be a grave risk” he says. He also offers that a Persian force inferior in infantry will not maintain a position so close to them throughout the night, river or no.

    Alexander of course refuses, arguing that to refuse battle now would indicate to the Persians that they faced a fearful, overly cautious opponent and give them undue courage. Arrian then describes the Persian order of battle, with the cavalry lined along the river-bank, their strength concentrated around that point across from which Alexander himself stood. The infantry, composed of “foreign mercenaries” assumed today to have been Hellene hoplites, was arrayed behind the horse, on higher ground.

    Both forces then engage in a sort of Mexican Stand-Off, with neither side making a move. Finally, “…Alexander … leapt upon his horse and called upon his bodyguard to follow and play the man.” His Paeonian scouts, “one infantry company” (in Greek: των πεζων μια ταξιν; implying a full Macedonian taxis, I would guess), and a squadron of Companion cavalry led the way across the river. It’s like a scene straight out of Homer.

    The melee is initially described as hard going for the Macedonians and Paeonians; Arrian describes that “… the first to cross were cut down and died a soldier’s death…” and “…some of the leading troops fell back upon Alexander, who was now on his way across.” Eventually, though, the force of the Macedonian attack seems to have turned the tide. “Company after company” of Macedonians crossed, making things tougher, and “the lightly armed troops who had forced their way in among the cavalry” were wreaking havoc. Spears are exchanged among Companions; Persian noblemen are unhorsed by vicious blows; Alexander’s own life is saved by a man he will eventually kill, but who for now is like a kinsman. Again, it’s the stuff of legends.

    Eventually, the Persian cavalry routs, and leaves the Greek mercenaries standing and waiting for their fate, unable to move because—Arrian says—“the suddenness of the disaster deprived them of their wits.” Alexander calls off pursuit of the Persians, and opts instead to surround the hapless mercenaries. Ignoring their pleas, he kills all but 2,000 (who are eventually taken prisoner and sent to hard labor).

    Questions inevitably arise from the above account. Perhaps the ancients ate this sort of thing up, but at some point we became a more critical audience.

    Why did the Persians array their forces as they did? It makes no sense whatsoever for them to line the banks with cavalry-men—their position deprived of the ability to charge—instead of the crack mercenary hoplites Memnon brought to the fight. As Parmenion supposedly indicated to Alexander, the Macedonians “could not manage the crossing in line on a broad front, because in many places the river is obviously deep, the banks very high, and, here and there, sheer.” Men crossing “in column, and in loose order at that” would have been at the mercy of a crack infantry force possessing higher ground and a solid line.

    We know from Issus that in similar, perhaps even more favorable circumstances, the phalanx met tough opposition against a hoplite force thus positioned, with neither side being able to score a win. Those same sheer banks would be a detriment to defending cavalry force. Their inability to charge aside, the variation in elevation between their position and that of a crossing infantry force meant that they would be left exposed to the effect of sarissae from below. Conversely, they themselves would be unable to engage in any meaningful melee combat.

    Some historians, like Peter Green, have seized on such points, and offered starkly different theories on how Granicus actually went down. Green asserts that Arrian’s information, taken from Ptolemy’s memoirs, is an attempt at obfuscating the truth. It is his belief that Alexander was warned by Parmenion, that he did indeed attempt the late afternoon/early evening (?) assault across the river, but that he was soundly beaten by the Persians for his trouble. Later, under the cover of darkness, his army crossed further down the river, and arrayed in battle order before the Persian host had a chance to react and prevent them.

    Green’s theory, by his own volition, depends largely on the account of Diodorus of Sicily. He, alone of the extant secondary sources, claims that the battle was fought at dawn, and that both armies were on one side of the river. Both armies array their lines perpendicularly to the river rather than parallel. In such a scenario, the Persian formation (cavalry in the front, infantry in the rear) begins to make sense. Green further argues that Arrian’s Persian numbers (approximately 20,000 cavalry and a like number of infantry, as opposed to 600,000 by Justin, or 20,000 cavalry and 100,000 infantry by Diodorus, his source in this case) are largely correct, but that the foreign (Hellenic) mercenaries were actually a minority of the infantry force—only 5,000 or so out of 20,000. Thus, as at Gaugamela, the inferior infantry force was cautiously hidden behind the superior cavalry force.

    The battle then proceeds in Green’s eyes much like we might imagine—an advance by Alexander in the oblique followed by a feint and a surgical strike—with the outcome being the historically-recorded crushing Macedonian victory.

    Green goes on to propose that the low Macedonian casualties are actually only those of the first day’s fight, from the disastrous, and quickly aborted, charge that Alexander rashly rushed into. In this case, he proposes, 25 Companions slain would make sense. His monument to them (each, remember, had a statue dedicated to him) would also serve as a bitter insult to the rest of his men, who failed him in his “heroic” attack. Parmenion, of course, was from then on discredited time after time, all the way to his eventual assassination.

    The truth, in my humble opinion, can be found in neither account.

    Something obviously rots with Ptolemy’s tale of the battle. Like Green says, it’s utter rot to assume that reasonably intelligent men (even if not wholly competent in military matters) would line up their cavalry contingent on the edge of a river, while depriving their armored wall of spears and shields the opportunity to act as a natural deterrent to disorganized river-crossers.

    Similarly, Ptolemy’s account of Parmenion’s advice-giving simply doesn’t pass the “sniff test.” The latter’s assessment of the dangers of a river crossing in the face of an enemy is spot on, but his stated fear of the cavalry on the banks is weak. His hopes that camping by the river will compel the Persians to give up the advantage of the Granicus’ banks are even more cosmic. This is even more so true if one takes Green’s meaning, that the Persians would simply cede the field would giving battle. Parmenion knew that the Macedonian treasury was empty. Even if one is to assume that he was conspiring to usurp Alexander (a rather weak premise), passing up the opportunity to give battle here would still leave him in a bind. There’s no guarantee that a mutiny driven by lack of pay would leave him with a corps capable of both doing in Alexander and driving Antipater out of Macedon.

    Bottom line: Phillip II once claimed that “the Athenians were able to dig up ten Generals every year…” while he “only discovered one in [his] life—Parmenion.” This description, coming from a man himself known to have been a great military leader, does not reconcile with what has been passed down to us.

    Green’s theories, unfortunately, miss the mark just as badly. In his attempt to reconcile with a scenario where the Persian commanders don’t act like buffoons, Green simply passes the dunce’s hat from them to Alexander. The king’s love for the Homeric ideal is taken to an incredible extreme, and he inexplicable decides to charge a wall of hoplites arrayed atop a river-bank with cavalry and unformed infantry. Says Green:
    “At the crossing point itself Arsites posted Memnon and his mercenaries, about 5-6,000 strong … a solid spear-wall reinforced with light-armed javelin men, was the best possible defense against a frontal assault by cavalry.”
    “If a direct assault in fact took place at this point, it was almost certainly an expensive failure.”

    Assuming he did attack, “… Alexander and his squadrons battered at Memnon’s mercenaries, while a deadly blizzard of javelins rained down on them. … At last, forced to admit defeat, they turned back…”
    “… Alexander was finally forced … to accept Parmenion’s advice.”

    And thus, Alexander waits until the next day and fights the successful battle described by Diodorus. Either they take advantage of the Persians’ amazing inability to not notice when the Macedonian army takes off in the middle of the night to find a better spot to cross; or the Persians mystifyingly decide to leave the general vicinity, scouts and all, and the Macedonians march away to another crossing point for whatever reason (the principle of the thing, one must assume). All of this, of course, hinges on the Persians’ inability to notice 40,000+ men departing their camp.

    It’s all part of a deep, dark mess where seemingly everything of consequence that Alexander attempts between his departure for Asia Minor and the battle of Gaugamela is done to thwart Parmenion’s clique and their purported designs on him. How Green is able to reconcile the decisions he theorizes Alexander made here with what he describes as tactical brilliance later is beyond me.

    Beyond that, what Green proposes doesn’t necessarily reconcile with Diodorus’ account, either. Diodorus only describes one battle, not two, and he never mentions the omission of a previous engagement, or any sort of suppression of information related to such a fight.

    I thus find myself inclined to disagree with Green’s general premise. It’s just too convoluted. It leaves too many strings untied and takes much for granted.

    Alexander III certainly maintained a propaganda section. He undoubtedly used it to paint certain events to seem more favorable than they actually were. Among other things, he likely encouraged the exaggeration of enemy numbers, the scale and importance of victories, and tampered with both friendly and enemy casualties alike.

    Obfuscating an aborted attack, however, seems like too much. Suppressing the account of the battle would have required the consent of a number of junior and senior officers, some of whom would be alive and well after Alexander’s death, and employed with Successors other than Ptolemy. Such men would have no reason to lie or maintain a lie, either for the sake of Alexander’s vanity, or for the sake of keeping Ptolemy’s memoirs consistent. Ptolemy himself, for that matter, would have no reason to suppress an embarrassing withdrawal at Granicus. He himself was not a senior officer at the time, nor was he even in charge of the Companion squadron that would have led the aborted charge.

    Finally, why this total suppression when other, much darker moments were left comparatively uncensored? Mutinies, executions, conspiracies, suicides, etc., are recorded for posterity. The embarrassment of losing 25 Companions, even the shame of the withdrawal, could be dealt with by laying on others the blame of cowardice (similar to the occurrence at one of the sieges against the Malli, where, infuriated at his men’s unwillingness to press the attack, he scaled the walls himself) without impacting the royal person’s reputation.

    Was the battle’s record tampered with? Yes. It was obfuscation of a far lesser scope and scale, however, even if it still was tied into Alexander’s ego.

    Here’s what I think happened.

    Ptolemy, via Arrian, leaves us a very telling detail: Alexander approached the Granicus in battle order. Arrian states that they’d been doing this before the scouts came back with reports on the enemy’s disposition. Alexander could not have thought the Persians would offer him battle on his side of the Granicus; the idea makes no sense. More plausible is the idea that Alexander was hedging his bets on the Persians not being ready to face him. If he was wrong, he lost nothing by marching in a state of alertness. If he was right, though, he could conceivably score a coup.

    This is where the post-battle propaganda begins.

    The Persians had no reason to expect a battle from Alexander that day. If Alexander arrived at the Granicus by late afternoon, that means he would have been marching his men for about half the day, and probably longer. His troops, therefore, would have been at least somewhat winded. Given all that, the Persians were probably thinking along the lines we’ve come to expect from Parmenion—and thus not expecting an attack. Unfortunately for them, Alexander hardly ever did what people expected of him.

    I believe that what Alexander’s scouts really reported to him that day was that the Persians only had lookouts at the bank. Common sense required that they leave scouts by the bank, after all, so as to report when he arrived. The Persian camp was certainly not against the river; it likely was at least a mile or more away, to protect against a night crossing. Alexander continued in battle order, intent on beating his enemies to the crossing-point. It’s not inconceivable, either, that prior intelligence had indicated to him where the best crossing point in the area could be found. Doubtlessly, this would have been the point the Persian host was most likely to be found as well (and would thus be that much easier to find). The Persian scouts spotted Alexander’s advance; his battle order revealed his intent to attempt a river crossing and give battle on the spot, and they dully sent word to alert their fellows.

    A good runner can run a single mile in about 6 minutes. A very good runner can do so in 5, and an international competitor in less than that. The average hoplite would have been lugging about 50-60lbs (maybe a little less), and—based on my personal history of running with 40-60lbs in my rucksack—likely would have taken anywhere from 8 (very impressive) to 15 minutes to run the same mile. The lighter Persian infantry and skirmishers may have raced ahead of them, but I think that’s at least open to doubt. Thus, when the Persian host raced to the Granicus to offer battle, it came in piecemeal order. The cavalry likely got to the river ahead of everyone else with the objective of dissuading a crossing long enough for their mercenary hoplites to get to position or at least in a good order of battle. As such, they massed by the river as per Arrian’s account, even though that obviously wasn’t their ground of choice.

    Alexander quickly charged across the river with the leading elements listed by Arrian. His soldiers doubtlessly enjoyed superior morale; they had the initiative on the Persians and had offset much of their advantage. Ptolemy’s furious and desperate melee went on as described, with the Macedonian attack gradually gaining ground and pushing the enemy horse back. The Persian cavalry routed, probably just as their infantry was arriving. The Persian foot then (sensibly) fled as well, per the standard accounts. They and the cavalry were allowed to depart relatively unmolested, but the hoplites were surrounded and butchered, with survivors sent to hard labor.

    The battle was won, and I doubt any attempt was made to try to falsify its record—not now, at any rate. There was no reason for anyone to do so, after all. Alexander was happy to have won a battle which landed him both prestige and much-needed loot. His men were happy to have won a potentially hazardous battle with relatively few casualties (this would have been doubly true for the infantry, who were looking at a rough going here). Everybody was happy.

    The story as we know it would have benefited Alexander most right around the time of Parmenion’s execution. Alexander would have known that, in the cult of personality-driven society of Macedon, killing an important man’s character was as important as killing the man himself. As many current historians believe, it was probably during this time that his chroniclers and recorders were commissioned to manufacture episodes casting Parmenion as an overly cautious, ineffective decision maker. At a time when Alexander’s army was being reconstituted by fresh young troops, dismissing the old general would have gone a long way to countering the loyalty the older veterans, from Phillip and Parmenion’s days, would have still felt.

    Such propaganda and slander could easily pass scrutiny. The episodes of Parmenion’s conduct take place in a mostly private environment. The only men besides Alexander who would have been privy to any tactical or strategic discussions between Parmenion and the king would have been senior officers—men like Coenus, Craterus, Ptolemy, Hephaestion, and a relatively few others. These, of course, are the same men who routinely quarreled, drew blades on one another, and, later as Successor Kings, murdered and made war on one another. They would have had little qualms about participating in old Parmenion’s posthumous character assassination.

    If the best lies are those containing just enough truth to make them plausible, then this line of propaganda would have been excellent. It didn’t involve a re-invention or suppression of Granicus, as Green would prefer, but a slight alteration of details. Best of all, the alteration itself paints the battle in a way where the Macedonians are exceedingly heroic (Alexander encouraged his regular soldiers to boast and brag, even to exaggeration, and it’s unlikely any would try to correct the record by indicating the Persians had been an unprepared foe) and it takes advantage of existing Hellenic pre-conceptions and prejudices toward the Persians. Delayed infantry thus becomes poorly used infantry. Cavalry desperate to affect a delaying action become an example of Asian ineptness. No Hellene back home would think twice of some arrogant easterners carrying out either of the two blunders. After all, Hellenes—depending on what Polis they came from—were themselves apt to make ridiculous tactical decisions and misuse, or ignore the contributions of, light infantry, skirmishers, cavalry, etc
    Last edited by Sir Adrian; December 31, 2013 at 09:48 AM. Reason: fixed author hyperlink

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