The Sacred War

by H A CULLEY

  He had only just returned to his artillery when a scout rode down the valley to warn him that the Thracian vanguard was only ten minutes away. The spearmen who had built the wall under his direction were still arriving and re-arming themselves, chatting noisily. He glared at the lochagos in command and he quickly ordered his men to shut up and finish getting ready in silence.

  A few minutes later the vanguard appeared. It consisted of a thousand men, some light spearmen and the rest peltasts. There was no sign of any cavalry, or of any scouts preceding the column. The Macedonians allowed the vanguard to pass and waited for the main body. This was led by the hoplites, then came the baggage train, then the rest of the peltasts, the command group guarded by about three hundred cavalrymen and finally the rest of the light spearmen.

  Chronos had interspersed his katapeltikons with the gastraphetes to cover the head of the column and the peltasts were sited to fire into the command group and the cavalry. His flanks were guarded by his own spearmen and he just hoped that the bog would prove enough of a protection from the front. The three thousand spearmen in the rear-guard didn’t concern him. Hopefully nine tetrachia of Macedonian cavalry should be enough to keep them occupied.

  He waited until he heard shouts from the front, indicating that the Thracians had run into the wall, and gave the order to fire. Twenty heavy bolts and twenty lighter gastraphetes missiles tore into the ranks of hoplites, killing or disabling well over fifty of them. At the same time chaos erupted amongst the horsemen as the peltasts killed a fair number of them in the first five minutes. Another volley struck the hoplites as their officers tried to rally them.

  Chronis saw a chiliarch waving his sword as he urged his men to wade into the bog and get to grips with the enemy. The next moment his chest erupted in a fountain of blood as a bolt from a gastraphetes tore through his bronze breastplate as if it was made of paper and burst his heart. The angry Thracians were now desperately trying to slog their way through knee deep mud to get at the Macedonians. As their formation broke apart it became more difficult for the katapeltikons to hit more than one man, though Chronis did see one bolt punch through a Thracian hoplite; the momentum picking him up and carrying him twenty feet backwards before slamming into a second man.

  He shouted for the men operating the gastraphetes to concentrate on the fittest of the enemy who had now managed to reach the stream. Only twenty or thirty yards of bog now separated them from his line of artillery. Several of them fell but the operators of the gastraphetes were tiring and their rate of fire had slowed. Suddenly he saw one Thracian hoplite stagger forwards as he cleared the bog and found firmer ground underfoot. He was now no more than ten yards from the nearest katapeltikon.

  Luckily the phylearch in command of the crew saw the danger and intercepted the exhausted man, cutting him down with his sword before calmly returning to his crew and picking their next target. More and more exhausted hoplites were now reaching dry land and Chronos saw that his command was in danger of being wiped out. Telling the men with gastraphetes to carry on firing, he sounded the signal for the spearmen to move in from the flanks and protect the crews of the katapeltikons. They rushed into the fray and began to engage the hoplites before the Thracians could recover from wading through the morass.

  His two hundred men made short work of the fifty or so hoplites, but not without the odd casualty. One giant Thracian in particular killed three men before he was struck down by the first of the light spearman to arrive. Soon the rest of the lochus joined in and the threat was over. Chronis had just thrust his sword into the windpipe of a hoplite when he saw peltasts also arrive to join in the fray.

  He ordered them to concentrate on the hoplites who were still stuck in the mud. It was like shooting goats in a pen. There were several hundred hoplites in the bog and nearly half of them were killed before they surrendered and threw down their weapons. The hoplites who managed to struggle back to the road were then attacked by the Macedonian cavalry and it wasn’t long before the last hoplite was either dead or a prisoner.

  Chronos later learned that the command group and the Thracian cavalry had fought bravely but they had all died, including the strategos in command. Assailed by the Macedonian peltasts in the flank and attacked by cavalry in the rear, the vast majority of the Thracian spearmen at the back of the column had fled, pursued by some of the cavalry.

  As soon as the battle in the rear of the column had been won, the peltasts came back to aid Chronos, together with the cavalry who had remained with Amyntor. Those of the vanguard who hadn’t yet been able to scale the palisade were now trapped and they surrendered en masse.

  Amyntor was euphoric. He had won a stunning victory, destroying the Thracian army despite being outnumbered by nearly three to one. Nearly three thousand Thracians had died in the battle and another two thousand had been captured. Perhaps another thousand had been killed in the pursuit; at any rate Philip learned later that less than a thousand made it back to Thrace.

  Unfortunately Attalus hadn’t fared so well. He should have won an easy victory. He had a well-trained and well equipped army of over seven thousand, the majority of them hoplites armed with the sarissa, against an army that might have outnumbered his, but it consisted of poorly trained militia, most of them light spearmen, led by officers from five different cities who couldn’t agree anything amongst themselves.

  His use of the traditional battle formation with peltasts in the front, the phalanx of hoplites behind them and the cavalry in reserve, was old-fashioned and predictable. He didn’t even use his light infantry to guard the flanks of the phalanx.

  His opponents, on the other hand, kept their cavalry and peltasts concealed on the Macedonians’ right flank. The fact that the Chalkidikeans only had infantry drawn up to oppose him should have warned Attalus. As soon as he started his advance the enemy peltasts attacked the flank of the phalanx, and when Attalus ordered the tagmas on that flank to change formation and face the peltasts, the enemy cavalry tore into them whilst they were still getting organised. The centre and the left flank of the phalanx should have halted but they had no orders to do so, so they carried on. Now the right hand side of the centre was exposed to the Chalkidikean peltasts and the pin prick attacks of their cavalry.

  The result was chaos as Attalus tried to restore some order to his hoplites. Meanwhile his peltasts had drawn ahead of the chaotic phalanx and were charged by the massed Chalkidikean infantry. They managed to kill a number of their attackers but the phalanx was no longer there for them to withdraw into and they suffered horrendous casualties.

  Too late Attalus remembered his own cavalry and gave the order for them to engage the enemy horsemen. His hipparchia knew their business and formed a wedge formation before tearing into the enemy cavalry. They broke and fled as the Macedonian horsemen started to wreak a terrible revenge on the enemy peltasts, who could offer little defence at close quarters.

  His cavalry saved the day for Attalus and he managed to withdraw without losing many more men, leaving the enemy in possession of the battlefield. He was furious that he had lost his first major battle, so when his elated taxiarch arrived to tell him of his spectacular victory, he was in too foul a mood to congratulate Amyntor. Instead, he swore at him and accused him of gloating. It was a slight that the furious Amyntor took to heart and it festered there. He never forgave Attalus for it and that was to have dire consequences in the future.

  -o0o-

  Attalus had expected the Chalkidikeans to pursue him the next day and, now that he had been reinforced by Amyntor, he was confident that he could win the next battle. However, word had now reached the relief force that Olynthus had fallen and had been destroyed. The relief force immediately broke up and the various contingents headed back to their own cities as fast as they could.

  It was the turning point in the conquest of Chalkidike. Olynthus had been the glue that bound the league of individual city states together. Philip didn’t even have to go to each city to demand its surrender. They
started to send delegations to him. Only one city, Stagira on the east coast of the peninsula and the birthplace or Aristotle, still stood out against him. It didn’t resist him for long. The gates weren’t particularly strong or well-made and Iphitos’ lithoboloi quickly demolished them. Again, as a warning to others, he sacked and destroyed the city and enslaved its people.

  The other Chalkidikean city states were allowed to continue to operate much as they had done before. However, anti-Macedonian elders were killed or exiled and replaced by others who supported Philip. The cities willingly agreed to pay taxes to Philip and provide troops for the Macedonian army; in exchange they would in all other respects be left alone to rule themselves. Chalkidike was now officially a province of Macedon and a hegemon, based in Thessaloniki, was appointed to govern the province. This essentially meant ensuring that the taxes were paid on time and that the annual quota of new recruits was met.

  Philip next turned his attention towards Thrace but, before he could do anything, news came that would send him westwards again. Arybbas , King of Epirus and uncle of Philip’s queen, Olympias, was apparently interfering in northern Thessaly and stirring up trouble there. Leaving Parmenion to negotiate a truce with the Thracians, he hurried westwards to link up with Antigonus ’ army at Pella.

  He had intended to deal with Attalus following his defeat, but now he had no time. Instead he took the latter’s cavalry with him and told him to follow on with his infantry as quickly as he could.

  Chapter Eleven – Intervention in Epirus

  348 BC

  When Philip had married Olympias in 358 BC, she had brought her twelve year old brother, Alexandros of the Molossians, with her. They were the children of the previous King of Epirus and when he died his brother Arybbas had been acclaimed as king, ignoring the claim of Alexandros as he was only twelve at the time.

  Alexandros shared his sister’s striking looks and Philip was more than happy to welcome him into the School of Pages. By the time he was thirteen he was sharing Philip’s bed nearly as often as his sister did.

  Usually Philip was careful not to form romantic attachments with those he slept with, but it was different with Alexandros. It didn’t stop Philip continuing with his omnivorous approach to sex but he grew very fond of Alexandros and the boy idolised the king.

  One could have expected Olympias to be jealous of their relationship but she didn’t love Philip and she was ambitious. She saw the growing closeness between her husband and her younger brother as something to be encouraged. Alexandros was devoted to his sister and so it enabled her to influence the king indirectly.

  As time went on Alexandros continued to share Philp’s bed from time to time, especially after the king appointed him as his aide when he was fifteen. By the time that Arybbas become a problem Alexandros was a young man of twenty one. He had ceased to be Philip’s aide and was now a tetrarch in his Companions.

  Iphitos and Alexandros were roughly the same age and the two had become friends during the campaign in Chalkidike. Philip and Alexandros didn’t sleep together nearly as often as they had when he was younger but they were still close and Philip was looking for an excuse to put him on the throne of Epirus in his uncle’s place. Arybbas ’ support for one Thessalian city near the border with Epirus in a dispute against another city over a tract of land was threatening to tear that part of Thessaly apart, just as it had done countless times in the past. Thessaly now contributed a quarter of Philip’s army and he needed to nip trouble in the bud before it spread.

  Philip was determined to reach Passeron , the capital of Epirus, as swiftly as possible in order to confront Arybbas before too much damage was done. He therefore set out with an all mounted force consisting of his two thousand companions and the two epihipparchia from Attalus’ and Antigonus ’ armies. He took Iphitos and the engineer officers from both armies as well. There was only a small baggage train and so the four thousand men would have to rely on foraging or purchasing food as they travelled.

  Epirus was a largely mountainous country with a coastal plain that received more than its fair share of rain. It was heavily afforested and, unlike most of Greece, there were few cities. Most of the population were poor farmers, shepherds, foresters and goatherds who lived in small villages. Passeron lay across the River Aracthos and, being the rural country it was, there was only one bridge by which to cross. As expected, Arybbas had destroyed it as soon as he heard of Philip’s approach.

  ‘How long will it take you to rebuild it, Iphitos?’

  ‘The river is in spate thanks to the recent rains, basileus, so I’ll need to construct a proper bridge, not just one on pontoons. Give me six hundred men and I should have it finished in five days.’

  ‘You can have all four thousand if it’ll help.’

  Iphitos smiled. ‘No, my engineers couldn’t supervise so many effectively, but thank you. Teams of fifteen will be fine.’

  The chief engineer sat down to design the bridge whilst his engineers set off with their men to cut the tons of timber that would be needed from the nearby forest. He sent Callimarcos with one of the lumber parties as part of his training. However, it wasn’t long before his aide came riding back.

  ‘Kyrios, the cavalrymen are refusing to cut lumber. They say that they are of noble birth and it’s beneath them to labour like poor men.’

  When Iphitos went and told Philip he didn’t say anything but went and found Alexandros and, taking Iphitos with him, he galloped to where the cavalrymen sat around doing nothing.

  ‘Well, do you think this bridge is going to build itself? So, you are too high born to cut down trees and load carts are you? Well, I’m your king and Alexandros is the future King of Epiros .’

  With that he picked up an axe and Alexandros and Iphitos did the same. They set to with a will to chop down a large oak tree. Iphitos didn’t like to point out that it was far too large for what he needed; it was the principle that counted. Slowly the shamefaced companions and other cavalrymen picked up saws, axes and ropes and started to cut down the trees indicated by the engineer officers.

  Once the mighty oak had crashed to the ground, Philip and Alexandros got back on their horses and rode back to the camp on the east bank of the river, but Iphitos stayed. He felt extremely stiff the next morning but he had enjoyed the physical exercise as a change from sitting at his desk and he resolved to do more of it.

  Once the timber was cut, Iphitos explained to his engineers that he proposed to construct a simple truss bridge and then roll one end onto a floating pontoon. This would be hauled across the river by ropes and then a crane would lift the far end of the bridge structure onto the bank. Once the frame was in place, planks would be nailed in place to form the roadway. It would then remain there as a permanent bridge.

  The first problem was to get a rope over to the far bank. Iphitos looked at the swirling water rushing past and, as it had rained again the previous night, he know that the torrent was likely to get worse, not diminish. Eventually Philip selected the strongest horse and the best swimmer and a light rope was tied to the horse’s saddle. Man and beast plunged into the fast flowing water and were immediately swept downstream. The man clung to the rope behind the horse and slowly they progressed to mid-stream. By now the rope had run out and the tree to which it was tied on the east bank creaked with the pressure being put on its trunk.

  Ever so slowly the horse swam towards the far bank, the taut rope forming the radius of its track through the water, but it was getting tired. Its efforts grew weaker and eventually it could do no more than keep its position; it was getting no nearer the far bank, now a mere ten metres away.

  The cavalryman hauled himself along the rope, then the mane until he could grab the bridle. He kicked out for the bank, pulling the horse with him. Suddenly, just as he was about to give up, his knee scraped on the river bed and he stood up shakily before he stumbled out onto the far bank leading his horse. He collapsed to the ground whilst the horse stood there trembling before falling to its k
nees and rolling onto its side. Its heart had finally given out.

  When the man had recovered sufficiently he slowly hauled the rope back upriver and lashed it to a stout tree opposite to where Iphitos stood. His fellow cavalrymen applauded loudly and whistled. In response he bent over to display his arse, to general hilarity.

  By nightfall three stouter ropes had been hauled over the river and a simple rope bridge had been constructed so that more men could cross over.

  Once the raft was launched the following morning, ropes attached to it were looped over two cables across the river so that it could be safely hauled to and fro. However, the river was now running in spate and it was no longer safe to cross. Iphitos would have to wait a day or two until the current slackened. He made good use of the time by supervising the construction of six A frames. These would be connected together, three to a side, and fastened at the top to each other both in line and across at right angles using straight lengths of timber. The bottom of each A would nailed to a rectangular frame, which would eventually support the roadway. Diagonal braces would be nailed in place top and bottom to make the structure rigid.

  On the fifth day the raft was re-launched and the completed bridge frame was rolled on logs to the bank and then out over the raft. Iphitos groaned in frustration as the end sat there suspended in mid-air over the raft. The centre of gravity was still on dry land so the end wouldn’t drop down as he’d expected.

  There was only one thing for it. The heavy frame was rolled back again and then hundreds of men dug out the bank to make a gentle ramp. This time the end of the frame did land on the raft and it was lashed in place. It took five hundred men to haul the half submerged raft over the river but eventually it reached the far bank.

  Several of Iphitos’ engineer officers were there waiting and they lashed the ropes from the static crane they had built to the end of the bridge. After they had released the lashing to the raft, they started to haul the end of the frame up into the air. The crane bent under the weight but it didn’t break. Once the end was above the river bank, several logs were rolled underneath it and a hundred men hauled it further onto the bank before the crane lowered it onto the logs. After that it was a simple matter of pulling it further onto the bank and driving huge pegs into the ground to which the frame was lashed to hold it in place.