Wars of Alexander the Great: Battle of the Hydaspes River

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What a battle! Sheets of heavy arrows from long Indian bows arced over the war elephants that surged forward to meet the Macedonian phalanx’s bristling hedge of sarissas. The Macedonian paean rang out as the great beasts crashed into the long spears, impaling themselves. Other elephants brushed aside the sharp points and waded into the Macedonian ranks, trampling men or flinging them across the field with their trunks. The Macedonians did not flinch but stabbed and thrust at the monsters, while their swarms of javelins and arrows killed the mahouts and fighting men on the howdahs atop the beasts. Other Macedonians rushed forward to hack at the elephants’ legs or underbellies. Finally, as the Macedonian phalanx surged forward with a roar, the beasts backed away and then fled trumpeting through the ranks of their own infantry. For the Indians, it was all coming apart. King Porus, himself wounded, surrendered, and Alexander III, king of Macedon, lord of Greece, Persia, Egypt and all the lesser lands within their conquered empires, added the Battle of the Hydaspes River to his long litany of victories.

It was May of 326 BC, and Alexander did not realize that this was the golden apex of his life. His spirits buoyed at having just won the most adroit and subtle of all his battles in fabled India, he confidently led his army eastward toward the kingdoms of the Ganges. Chandragupta, the future first empire-builder of India, was a child when he first saw Alexander and would later remark that success was assured because the Gangic kingdoms were rotten. Alexander may or may not have had that advance knowledge of the Indian political structure, but his men had fallen prey to an entirely different appreciation of the situation.

Alexander’s energy was superhuman by any standard. Victory and adventure fueled that energy, as did his sense of pothos, or yearning to discover new things, new challenges and new worlds to conquer. His men were far more mortal. The Macedonian and Greek core of his army, in particular, had been with him since he had crossed the Hellespont in 334 BC. After eight years of fighting, their numbers were dwindling and they were exhausted, yet on they marched behind the Invincible One.

The army reached the banks of the Hyphasis (Beas) River in July. The city of Sangala had resisted Alexander and now was a corpse-strewn ruin. There was little to savor in the victory. The Indians had fought hard again, inflicting an alarming number of casualties. The army had been lashed by the monsoon since it left the Hydaspes. Everything that could rust, rot, mold or corrode did. Rumors flew about the camp that the kingdoms against which Alexander would lead them could muster thousands of war elephants and hundreds of thousands of tough soldiers. Fatigue drained the men’s morale.

Learning of the army’s lassitude, Alexander summoned his chief officers. ‘I observe, Gentlemen, that when I would lead you on a new venture you no longer follow me with your old spirit,’ he said. ‘I have asked you to meet that we may come to a decision together: Are we, upon my advice, to go forward, or, upon yours, to turn back?’

It was a shrewd approach. Alexander had always had a fine feel for what would motivate his commanders. A Macedonian king was still very much an Indo-European war chieftain whose position was more first among equals than absolute master. That relationship had been changing as Alexander’s conquests grew, much to the chagrin of his Macedonians. He had barely escaped an assassination attempt the year before in Afghanistan by his disgruntled pages, whipped to a passion for regicide by his court historian. He recognized that the army could only be led and not driven forward. Tact was vital. To this he added the force of argument fired by his powerful charisma.

Alexander reminded his officers that they had conquered much of the world already. Why, he asked, would the Hyphasis River and what lay beyond daunt them now? He then tried to sway them with a rhetorical flourish that revealed much about himself: ‘For a man who is a man, work, in my belief, if it is directed to noble ends, had no object beyond itself.’

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Tags: Ancient-Medieval, Historical Conflicts, Historical Figures

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