by Bob Bennett
This encounter was preceded by some psychological warfare orchestrated by the general commanding the Silver Shields. Opposite them were Macedonian compatriots but men of a younger generation and, playing on a hoped-for respect for their elders, Antigenes had his agents go and yell at their opponents that they ought to be ashamed to fight against the veterans who had fought under Philip and Alexander in the great days of Macedonian power. Antigonus’ men, who were mainly the younger levies brought over to Asia by Antipater in 320 BC, were affected by this and there were elements who were reluctant to raise their pikes against such national heroes. The veterans themselves had no such qualms about whose blood they spilt but were prepared to play the psychology game, shouting: ‘It is against your fathers that ye sin, ye miscreants’.32
Then, on Eumenes’ orders, these preliminaries were ended with instructions for the whole phalanx to prepare to attack. After the elephants had cleared the way, the awful lines of pikes faced each other. What is never explained in any of our sources is how a clear run was given to the phalanx infantry with many tens of elephants and thousands of their infantry guards fighting between the lines of pikes as they approached each other. Accounts of battles fought by Romans against enemy elephants suggest that they allowed lanes for the beast to be corralled down, but this is never mentioned in the sources for our period, and anyway unwieldy phalangites might have found this more difficult than the more flexible legions (though at Gaugamela they are described as forming lanes for Darius’ chariots to harmlessly career down). Perhaps the phalangites were trained to push through the animals and men in front of them but unfortunately this process is not explained. This may be another reason to question our sources that try and paint the Macedonian formation as a clumsy battering ram, only effective when undisturbed by terrain or events.33
However they got to each other, they certainly did and the front ranks fell in heaps on both sides but, while the Antigonid foot were distressed by their losses, the Silver Shields and their comrades ploughed on unheeding. Like a steamroller they pushed over the enemy phalanx, though they were themselves far outnumbered. The hypaspists, no doubt, were alongside them in the fray but even with this support the Antigonids had several thousand more pikes at that part of the front. But this push of pike was a matter of discipline and morale, not numbers. In this rush of bristling enemy spears 5,000 of Antigonus’ infantry fell, and after such loss of life retaining cohesion and discipline was out of the question. The bodies lay in piles, but the cutting edge of the veterans was hardly blunted as they chased the fleeing enemy off the battlefield over a litter of discarded sarissae.
Eumenes had expected to win his victory with the infantry and again they had done their job. But if events in the centre had seen his troops victorious, elsewhere it was a different matter. Philip, the commander on the allied right, had considerably fewer men than Pithon was fielding.34 They were mainly light-armed cavalry who had been on the left under Eudamus at Paraetacene. They would presumably have again been the Arians and Drangians under Stasander, Paropamisadae under Androbazus and perhaps the colonial Thracians and Mesopotamians as well; mainly mounted javelineers, mountain Indians from the Hindu Kush and light horse from the eastern satrapies in the main. Their bravery was never in question but their equipment and tough, light horses, whilst effective for skirmishing, would never allow them to hold the line against Macedonian Companions or Nicaean-mounted Medes. The best of the satrapal horse had been stationed on the left to support Eumenes and Peucestas. Philip’s regiments had, at least, occupied the enemy wing opposite, the horse and elephants in front had held the right wing tight as we hear nothing of Pithon’s main force making headway against them as had happened in the early stages at Paraetacene.
To regain the initiative against Antigonus’ rampant right wing cavalry, Eumenes needed the aid of Peucestas and his Iranian cavaliers who had fled at first contact with the enemy. He rode across to plead with his lieutenant but the satrap of Persia remained unmoved. ‘Since Peucestas, however, would not listen to him but on the contrary retired still farther to a certain river.’35 This must have been a dramatic encounter with few parallels in the pages of history but what is clear is that treachery had bitten deep into the ranks of Eumenes’ generals and this was only the first of many bitter blows he would take from his own side during the next few hours. All was now confusion, over a battle line that stretched well over 2 miles in width. Opposed to Pithon were Philip and Eumenes, who, despairing of Peucestas and the others, had returned to his intact right wing with what remained of the routed left wing cavalry. In the centre, the ruin of Antigonus’ phalanx was complete with the Silver Shields and hypaspists chasing them far from the battlefield. But Antigonus had the priceless asset of the allied baggage train. Antigonus’ personal retinue kept him protected from the dislocated enemy units that careered over the plain whilst he tried to make sense of the chaos – the ultimate test of his generalship. The confusion in the reports of these battles must never be underestimated but, in this instance, we are fortunate that the original source for the events was a very competent eyewitness. Hieronymus of Cardia was able to record the course of the combat from the mouths of the contestants on the very heel of events. Their comments would have been partisan but fresh and, as far as is ever possible, the manoeuvres described at Gabene must be an accurate reflection of what actually happened.
Out of all the disorder one action, at least, is attested not just by its description but also by the events that resulted from it. While Antigonus sent orders to Pithon to attack the enemy infantry and he himself faced Eumenes’ remaining cavalry, his officers made doubly sure that the enemy baggage train was made safe against counterattack. The Antigonid left, under Pithon, turned about and came in behind the enemy infantry, who were still in pursuit of the crumbled remains of the Antigonid phalanx. Yet, as they drew up in ordered squadrons in the rear of the Silver Shields and their comrades, they did not find easy pickings. These old sweats knew the tactics to counter this danger and ‘formed themselves into a square and withdrew safely to the river’.36 This is a remarkable testament to the qualities of phalangites already engaged in combat; to pull themselves up from pursuit and reorganize to show a hedge of bristling spears all round to the oncoming cavalry. With the salt soil in everyman’s throat and night already on them, the generals on either side had no real idea of the overall situation. To reform and reconsider was the reality forced on them all and this breathing space became the end of the battle. In the dark, acrimonious debate characterized the council of Antigonus’ enemy; Eumenes wanted to carry on the fight the next day, to exploit the virtual elimination of the Antigonid infantry as an organized force. His satrapal allies showed less fight and wished to retreat deeper into Iran. Revealing little belligerence in the battle, many perhaps shared whatever motive caused Peucestas to flee from Antigonus’ cavalry.37
The atmosphere in the coalition bivouac as the soldiers settled down for what could only be a short night’s sleep was very fraught indeed. Every man saw a traitor in another part of his own camp as well as feeling the ever-present threat of the Antigonid army over the horizon. The infantry knew that Peucestas and his Iranians had badly let them down by decamping without a fight and they were not backward in expressing their disgust. But, while cavalry and elephant-handlers looked to feeding and bedding down their beasts, the senior Macedonian infantry began to confer on a future that had their own very direct interest at its heart. The Silver Shields are specified but it must have been others as well who began to debate how to get back the baggage train that contained both the treasure and the families of these phalangites who had just fought so hard and successfully for their generals’ cause. This was a roots-up movement (subsequent events showed that Antigenes and Teutamus would not have instigated any approach to Antigonus who was their vicious enemy) and with breathtaking felicity this Macedonian infantry ‘co-operative’ came to a decision. When their envoys found that Antigonus would only disgorge their worldly go
ods for Eumenes himself, they determined on the swap and marched to their commander’s headquarters.
The Greek general was disarmed and restrained, despite some who felt ashamed of handing over their old chief, and word sent to Antigonus that he had been taken. He and Antigonus may have been personally quite close and had certainly known each other over many years. But he was too dangerous not to be eliminated and was executed. Antigonus could be generous to defeated foes but not in this case; the Cardian had cost him too much effort, given him too many frights and outwitted him once too often. Antigonus had sneaked success at Gabene but it was still decisive, for now he and his faction were the great power at the heart of the post-Alexandrine world.
Chapter Five
Battle of Gaza
Antigonus had been the centre of the military world of the Diadochi since he took up the command against the Perdiccan remnants after the Triparadeisus settlement and would remain so until almost the end of the century. But the next battle we can consider in detail, after the duel with Eumenes, saw him take no direct part despite the fact that his faction provided one of the sides involved. This time it was his son, the young Demetrius, who was in command when the might of the Ptolemies tested the empire the old man had constructed in the years from 319 to 312 BC. Antigonus, himself, was at the time of the encounter exploring various possible options of crushing Cassander and Lysimachus who looked back at him from the coasts of Europe. These opponents had been, since the defeat of Eumenes, his highest priority but it was other enemies who precipitated the events that would dramatically impinge on the military fortunes of his offspring.
It was the first time young Demetrius had left the protective shadow of his father. Antigonus had previously mainly used his nephews as lieutenants in independent commands but, at last, in his early 20s, his son and heir was to be trusted with major responsibility. From the time the elder Antigonid crossed the Taurus in late winter 313 BC to when the Byzantines scuppered his attempt to get at Lysimachus and Cassander in Europe, Demetrius had been in command in the Levant. This was a core region for the family’s wealth and power; it was studded with cities rich from trade and manufacture and, apart from anything else, was the source of many of the naval squadrons that ensured the Antigonids’ real control of the east Mediterranean seaways.
A council of veteran advisers were left with him to guide his steps in the crucial task of defending the Antigonid frontiers where they abutted those of their Ptolemaic rival. One of these men was Nearchus, the friend and admiral of Alexander, who had been with Antigonus for years and is mentioned in a command position during the march through Cossaean territory that so nearly ended in fiasco. Pithon (another Pithon, not the satrap of Media) was another, who had recently been made satrap of Babylon replacing Seleucus, even though he had first fought for Eumenes, after coming up from his post in India. There was Andronicus the Olynthian, who is unknown under Alexander but had commanded the siege camp at Tyre when Antigonus struck with his main army against Joppa and Gaza; and Philip, another who had held a command in the upper satrapies and had served under Eumenes before joining the Antigonids.1 The last member of the council we know of only from the battle casualties; this was a Boeotus who we learn ‘for a long time had lived with his [Demetrius’] father Antigonus and had shared in all his state secrets’.2 Most of these had been stalwarts under Alexander and together represented a considerable aggregate of experience and talent to advise the 22-year-old who now, for the first time, held independent command.
Demetrius had been left by his father with a considerable field army which he surely expected would face up to anything that Ptolemy might throw in his direction. These defensive arrangements were not immediately tested but then, in early 312 BC, the Egyptian satrap attacked north Syria and Cilicia. Several cities were sacked before Demetrius took action and saw the intruders off with some aplomb. The young Antigonid, in his first real test, showed well and after these efforts he and his men returned to Coele-Syria, which he had left in the care of Pithon, to enjoy some of the amenities of home. Since Alexander passed that way a number of Hellenic cities had been planted, where demobbed soldiers or enterprising civilians could provide the taverns, brothels, theatrical and musical entertainments and market produce to please the palates of men who came mainly from Europe or Asia Minor. Demetrius, no doubt, enjoyed his share of distractions; he certainly gained a reputation for enjoying his portion of debauchery in later life, but he had responsibilities too. Most particularly he needed to replace the cavalry mounts that had been lost in the hard march to Cilicia where ‘on account of the excessive hardship not one of his sutlers or of his grooms kept up the pace’.3 Fortunately, for him, in Media and Anatolia the Antigonids controlled lands where some of the best cavalry horses in the world were reared. But, the recuperation that the coming of winter normally brought was to be cut very short for the young commander and his relaxing soldiers. Ptolemy had organized a major army to continue his assault while Antigonus was still occupied in the west. Despite the winter season, he attacked directly, forcing Demetrius to prepare to defend the frontier of his father’s empire.
We have noted previously that fighting in winter was still unusual, yet, while this remains true, at least three of the major battles in this history took place in that season. Paraetacene and Gabene, as well as Gaza, all occurred deep in winter and though all were fought in latitudes that meant the weather would not be completely debilitating it is still an interesting statistic. These Successor generals were not hidebound traditionalists. Just as that early Macedonian military revolutionary, Philip, would continue to fight when the time of year ought to see the soldiers back home on their farms, so would they. Even in the not-excessively severe climates of the Levant and Iran it was still difficult to operate in the winter months and in any case the crucial factor in this was social not meteorological. What Philip could occasionally do, with his core of mercenaries and a peasant levy which might make arrangements to stay on campaign when they would normally be on the farms, the Diadochi could do as a normal practice. The soldiers of 317 and 312 BC had no immediate farms to return to, in the way their predecessors had, and were available for their masters to call to arms all year round. Their homes were their baggage trains and encampments and these could function twelve months of the year.
The Battle of Gaza took place where now the mixed poison of neocolonialism and monotheism has crushed the lives of people who 2,300 years ago would have given a more reasonable tithe to their gods and carried on with life more rationally than their descendants do today. Satellite imagery in the twenty-first century shows mainly a mass of dwellings very unlike the much less inhabited region fought over in 312 BC. The fighting occurred somewhere to the south of the old city of Gaza which had itself suffered much from Alexander’s passing army a couple of decades before. The invading generals who now arrived there from the south had something of a military ragbag at their backs. The exact details of Ptolemaic Egypt’s military establishment are not easy to accurately analyze. As a beginning, a garrison of 4,000 infantry and 30 triremes had been left there by Alexander, when he departed to confront Darius, and presumably they were mainly still in place when Ptolemy took over in 323 BC. These are described by Arrian as being based at Pelusium and Memphis and consisting of mercenaries. They were not front-line Macedonian phalangites and this suggests a reason why Ptolemy declined to face Perdiccas in open battle when the regent invaded Egypt in the first civil war. He also was, anyway, considerably outnumbered by the invader.
In this campaign, Ptolemy and Seleucus travelled from Alexandria but the army concentrated at Pelusium, further to the east. If the forces Ptolemy inherited on his arrival in Egypt had not been large, he had done all in his power to increase it in the meantime. An effort that allowed him to field an invasion force of 18,000 infantry and 4,000 horse. Some were Macedonians, which indicates a core of phalangites. But, their numbers must have been small, perhaps no more than a few thousand, comprising largely the men who
had come over to Ptolemy’s side after the defeat of Perdiccas. The bulk of the regiments Ptolemy led forward were made up of Hellenic mercenaries. These men, many of whom would have begun their career under Alexander, had thrived on the business of war ever since. Their calling in those days was considered honourable and a more pragmatic morality saves them from the pejoratives that sit naturally on their historical heirs, who have made the name mercenary an accusation rather than a description. They mainly came from the east Mediterranean littoral where Ptolemy’s fleet allowed him easy access. Ptolemy had plenty of money to spend on them; he had taken 8,000 talents from Cleomenes who had been in command of Egyptian finances for some years before Ptolemy’s arrival and who he eliminated straight away, despite Perdiccas having designated the Greek financier as his deputy in the Babylonian settlement. Apart from these veterans for hire, Seleucus would have brought several thousand troops from the army he had been shipping round the Aegean and east Mediterranean for the last two years. But, if this collection of foreigners provided the bulk of both the horse and foot there were also, apparently, many Egyptians present. This comes as something of a surprise as it was not until the Battle of Raphia in 217 BC, at a time when Antiochus the Great threatened the very existence of the Ptolemaic state, that indigenous solders were incorporated extensively into the fabric of the royal army. At that time, Egyptians were drilled into proper heavy infantry and, in fact, these local troops provided most of the main phalanx. And at Raphia it was their efforts in the crucial push of pike that mainly decided the battle, despite Antiochus driving off the Ptolemaic cavalry wing that he personally encountered during the battle.