Battles and Tactics
Page 15
That these officers of Alexander and their offspring were not always hidebound by tradition is equally shown here in that Demetrius was quite prepared to lead from the left, putting his best troops there as opposed to the traditional place of honour on the right. There seems no particular reason for this; the battle took place on an open plain, so terrain played no part in his decision making. Perhaps the reason was to do the unexpected, to try to outwit Ptolemy, and it almost worked with the enemy having to do some pretty sharp footwork to redeploy in time.
Another feature of this encounter is that the losing commander fled the field without apparently trying to get back to other parts of his army to try and retrieve the day. This was pretty unusual; most of the defeated generals we encounter either die where they stand, like Leonnatus or Craterus, or withdraw with their beaten forces like Antipater or Antigonus. The only other example in the battles of the Diadochi is Neoptolemus in his first encounter with Eumenes. But Demetrius at Gaza is the clearest example of one of them ‘doing a Darius’. And, the parallel goes further, Demetrius, we know, was very far from being a coward; in combat before and after he led from the front, fighting hand-to-hand on the model of Alexander and the same is true of the Persian great king. He was no weakling who fled at danger; he was, in fact, a famous duellist who had killed a Cadusian chief in single combat and as a usurper in the Persian court he had to possess reckless nerve. With him, one feels, it was the responsibility he embodied as Great King that encouraged himself and those around him to make his safety the top priority. And, with Demetrius, there will be some of this; he, too, was surrounded by men determined he should not come to harm. His youth and his inexperience in command may also have played a part.
Gaza, at first sight, looks like one of the most decisive victories of the Diadochi era. Demetrius was completely defeated with hardly even a remnant at his back as he trudged north with bitter ashes of defeat in his mouth and the whole Levantine coast open to the advancing Egyptian army. Sidon was soon taken but they were stopped temporarily in font of Tyre, where Andronicus had made his way back to from Gaza and put some steel in their defences. But, even this very defensible place was taken soon enough.13
In the long run, the most important outcome of this battling on the borders of Egypt and Palestine was to be felt hundreds of miles away. Seleucus re-appropriated his old satrapy of Babylonia before going on to build a state in Mesopotamia and Iran that effectively changed the balance of power in the Diadochi world. From Gaza to the great denouement at Ipsus in 301 BC there are no great terrestrial battles fought for which the sources gives us any great detail. As well as a short peace there was plenty of recorded conflict; many sieges (most notably Rhodes), a great sea battle at Salamis in Cyprus, skirmishing in Greece and Anatolia. There was also the largely unknown and unrecorded Babylonian war between Seleucus and Antigonus which ensured the success of the Seleucid comeback. There may even have been a great battle with Seleucus against Chandragupta Maurya in India but again we have no details which can add to our stock of knowledge about this particular aspect of the military life of the successors.
Artist’s impression of a Macedonian heavy cavalryman, based on the Alexander Sarcophagus. He wears a linen cuirass amd Boeotian helmet and is armed with a sword and long lance. (copyright J Yosri)
Bust of a Macedonian soldier of the late fourth century BC, now in Naples Archaeological Museum. (Authors’ photograph)
Artist’s impression of a typical phalangite, mainstay of most Diadochi armies. (copyright J Yosri)
Artist’s impression of a light infantryman or peltast, a common troop type in all Diadochi armies. (copyright J Yosri)
Artist’s impression of a war elephant. The use of howdahs to protect the crew in the wars of the first generation of Diadochi is speculative, their introduction often being attributed to Pyrrhus of Epirus. (copyright J Yosri)
Artist’s impression of an Iranian light cavalryman based on figures on the Alexander Sarcophagus. He is unarmoured, relying on speed and mobility to conduct hit-and-run attacks. (copyright J Yosri)
A detail from the Issus Mosaic, now in the Naples Archaeological Museum. It shows an Iranian cavalryman of the type that may have followed Peucestas or Pithon in the great battles of Gabene and Paraetacene. (Authors’ photograph)
Artsist’s impression of a Hellenistic lithobolos or stone thrower. (after Jeff Burn, copyright J Yosri)
An example of 4th/3rd century BC Hellenistic walls at the foot of Phylae in Attica, near Athens. Such fortifications of large, precisely-fitted stone blocks presented a formidable obstacle to besiegers. (Authors’ photograph)
Salamis port where Menelaus’fleet attempted to break out to join his brother Ptolemy but failed, allowing Demetrius to defeat Ptolemy in the epochal naval battle of 306 BC. (Authors’ photograph)
Chapter Six
Battle of Ipsus
The last great battle that can be looked at in depth took place in 301 BC in the heart of Anatolia. The campaign, however, had begun the year before when Cassander and Lysimachus joined forces in earnest and sent envoys to recruit Seleucus and Ptolemy to the cause of a showdown with their dangerous Antigonid rivals. Lysimachus had begun the contest by invading Hellespontine Phrygia while Prepelaus, with an army seconded from Cassander, forced his way into Aeolia and Ionia. Together these armies secured most of the Aegean coast from Abydos down to Ephesus. Then, they moved inland; Prepelaus took the crucial west Anatolian administrative hub of Sardis through treachery while Lysimachus accomplished the same, in a like manner, at the old Antigonid treasure house of Synnada.
Preparing to absorb their new-won conquests and settle down for winter, the confederates were in for the shock of their lives. Antigonus, since receiving news of the attack, had dropped everything to bring his main army, in the last of those extraordinary forced marches so typical of his career, from Syria to Cilicia and on to Cappadocia before debouching into central Anatolia. When the coalition leaders realized that Antigonus was, at best, only a couple of days’ march distant they called a full council to decide on their response to the threat. They agreed to avoid battle until Seleucus had arrived from the upper satrapies.
The strategy decided upon was to counteract Antigonus’ numerical superiority by digging strong entrenchments, refusing battle and attempting to gradually withdraw north. Palisades and ditches were quickly dug as they awaited the enemy’s arrival. Antigonus appeared, drew up his army and offered battle but, when this was refused, deployed his men to deny the coalition access to forage or supplies. Lysimachus was all too well aware of the exposed situation of his army’s encampment and, when night fell, he marched them off over 40 miles to a place near Dorylaeum, where he would be able to better defend himself. Here, he built a solid triple-palisaded entrenchment on some convenient hills which were watered by a nearby river and had access to supplies from the city itself. Antigonus, frustrated, soon set off after them and when he found their second camp he ordered his men to completely invest the place so that they should not escape him again.
Lysimachus saw, with concern, preparations for what looked like a regular siege. Antigonus’ men were not only throwing up earthworks but his engineers were constructing siege engines and setting up ballistae and catapults. The besieged sent out light troops to disrupt this work, but ‘in every case Antigonus had the better of it’ and his men protected by their trenches had the edge in these exchanges of missile fire.1 The long march from Syria had not diminished the energies of the Antigonid veterans and, with the enemy skirmishers driven off, each day they were able to bring their siege lines a little closer to the ramparts of the camp. Soon Lysimachus’ men were being hit at close range by the arrows and spears of the besieging light infantry as well as bolts and stones from the artillery. This battling amidst the trenches is very reminiscent of Roman warfare. The Roman legions were famous for their spadework, whether it was against national enemies, as at Numantia in 134/133 BC and Alesia in 52 BC, or in civil strife, as when Caesar
fought Pompey at Dyrrachium in 48 BC and Anthony and Octavius battled Brutus and Cassius at Philippi in 42 BC. Hellenic armies were less noted for this tedious but effective tactic, and it is reported that Pyrrhus was the first general to systematically encamp his armies, while on the march, in regular defences. This campaign, however, shows that the sophisticated use of earthworks as a battlefield stratagem was well known and understood by these extraordinary military men who had learned their trade under Philip and Alexander.
Lysimachus was able to just about hold his own for a few weeks but his position ultimately depended on supplies lasting until Antigonus was forced by the weather to give up the contest. The old king’s siege lines were drawn so tight that the besieged could hardly obtain any supplies from outside. Food became short and the besieging army showed no signs of quitting their post. Famine and enemy harassment looked likely to turn what had begun as such a successful campaign into a disaster. Lysimachus and his allied captains decided the only chance of survival lay in extricating themselves once more and moving further north. They knew that this would be a far riskier proposition than on the previous occasion and made preparations accordingly. There was still one part of the camp where Antigonus had not yet been able to completely encircle them but, even so, they would still need special conditions to cover their retreat. The coalition ramparts were well guarded until the moment of escape, partly to deceive the enemy into believing that they had determined to defend until the end and partly to ensure no deserters were able to alert Antigonus to Lysimachus’ intentions. A stormy night provided perfect cover for the deception, when driving rain forced Antigonus’ pickets into shelter and made visibility extremely poor.
The bedraggled warriors somehow slipped out without alerting the guarding army and managed to put a few miles between themselves and their foe by the time dawn exposed the empty camp and the ruse. Antigonus organized pursuit, immediately sending his cavalry on ahead. This must have reminded the old warrior of his days of glory when he had chased the wily Eumenes across the plateau of Iran before he brought him to decisive battle. The gap between Lysimachus’ rearguard and Antigonus’ van was gradually diminishing and in the flat steppe country they were crossing there were no obvious defensive positions available to hold off pursuit. Lysimachus was a worried man when Antigonus’ army drew level and marched parallel, only waiting for the most suitable site to bring on the battle. But the time of the year was against Antigonus and, as Lysimachus had banked on, the elements came to his rescue. The night storm that had covered his escape had been the harbinger of winter rains and these suddenly arrived in full force. The tracks of both armies were turned in a muddy quagmire. Pack animals were mired, horses began to founder and men found each step an effort of will. Antigonus realized he could not move his men with any felicity at all and that to try and instigate a battle would end in disaster. His troops were also suffering from exposure to the elements and this could only get worse unless he quickly managed to get them under cover.
This cut and thrust between the veterans in the heartland of Anatolia had worn down both parties, so everyone was relieved to pull apart and look for respite in winter quarters. For the coalition forces there was a long journey before them to reach the coast of Bithynia where they would be safe to settle. Antigonus took a shorter road back to Celaenae Apamea from where he had governed his old satrapy in the days when Alexander still lived. Here, an administration that had been familiar with his ways for three decades could provide provender for the animals and food and replacement equipment for the men and help construct a strategy for the following fighting season.
The old general was now in receipt of the news that Seleucus, his adversary from the Babylonian war between 310–308 BC, was coming to join the fight against him. This eventuality was not expected but it did nothing to discourage Antigonus; his intention was still to face and defeat all his congregating foes. These gathering enemies, meanwhile, enjoyed the amenities of Heraclea on the Black Sea and its surroundings where the widowed ruler, Amastris, was recently remarried to Lysimachus, who could act as host to his allies almost as if it had been his own capital. But, if the well-born hobnobbed in the palaces of the city and the ordinary soldiers took their relaxation with camp followers or local women attracted by the glamour of free-spending foreign warriors, it was not a time of totally unalloyed pleasure. News arrived at confederate headquarters that a considerable setback had occurred.
It had come about after Demetrius had taken a hand in his father’s cause and returned to Anatolia. His landfall was Ephesus from where he had set out on his first great enterprise of Greece in 307 BC. He now took it and, after placing his men in the acropolis, headed towards Hellespontine Phrygia. If he could regain control there, it would threaten the enemy’s lines of communication and deny them reinforcements from Thrace and Macedonia. He retook Parium easily, though Demetrius needed to defeat an enemy detachment posted near Lampsacus to secure that city. And, while overrunning the Illyrian Autariatae, who made up most of the enemy force, he took their baggage, which would have some consequence for the future. His next step choked off the last route between the confederates in Asia and Europe. Despite the approach of bad weather, Demetrius’ force marched to the Bosporus. Once he reached the straits on the Chalcedonian side of the water he built strong defences for a garrison of 3,000 foot soldiers with orders to hold the crossing point and with them were 30 warships to patrol the adjacent waters of the Black Sea. With the campaigning season now definitely ended the rest of his forces were billeted on the Hellespont and amongst the cities along the Sea of Marmara.
Of course, when Demetrius left Greece, Cassander found himself freed from dire threat. His first response was to recoup what he could easily on his own doorstep and he ‘took possession of the cities of Thessaly’.2 But equally, he still saw the bigger picture and knew that the key events would unfold in Asia. He, as usual, did not venture there himself but ordered his brother Pleistarchus to take all the men he could spare to aid the cause. This son of Antipater had inherited his father’s and brother’s ambition but little of their talent. Cassander had several heirs and clearly Pleistarchus stood little chance of gaining the throne of Macedon. Asia Minor beckoned as a chance to carve out a realm for himself. A large portion of what remained of the Macedonian army were committed; 12,000 infantry and 500 horse. It was a long march, the easy way by sea was not possible in the face of Antigonid command of that element, but at least it was familiar territory and they could expect a welcome along the road in Lysimachus’ kingdom. A greater problem was where to cross over to Asia as, at least for a short period, they would have to trust themselves to the water. The Hellespont was too well-held by Demetrius and it seems probable the intention was to cross further north near Byzantium, a longer journey but one that would allow them to disembark not far from Heraclea. The whole operation shows a remarkable degree of co-ordinated planning between the two armies and presumably Lysimachus was able to communicate with Pleistarchus with the help of ships of the Heracleian navy. But, on nearing the Black Sea coast of Thrace it became plain the Bosporus was also closed off by Demetrius’ men. Agents from the Propontic cities informed Pleistarchus of the large garrison left to guard the strait and that Demetrius’ fleet was patrolling the coast.
Diodorus’ account of the subsequent events is somewhat difficult to follow in exact detail, but the outline is clear enough. Pleistarchus, blocked at both the main crossing points, now endeavoured to ferry his men by sea along the Black Sea coast. His point of departure was Odessus (Odessa), which is somewhat strange as this city is over 100 miles north of Byzantium up the coast towards Scythia. Why he needed to move so far away is not clear as there is no suggestion that Demetrius was preparing to attack him. Perhaps the most likely explanation is that this was the nearest port where shipping was available to transport his army. Pleistarchus needed a considerable fleet but had not brought one with him and Odessus also had the added advantage that news of preparations made there would
take a long while reaching their enemies’ notice. The boats collected at Odessus could not carry all the troops Pleistarchus had with him in one go, so he had no option but to try the long crossing in detachments. The first group got through, though we do not know how many or what units these comprised. The next party’s journey was far less fortuitous. They hugged the coast south, as the previous group had done, but this time when they passed close by the Euxine mouth of the Bosporus the guard ships were on the alert and Demetrius’ superior navy captured almost all the boats and soldiers on board. Pleistarchus, undaunted, obtained more ships and embarked the last units of his army. The commander, himself, was with 500 of his men on a ‘six’ but most of the rest of the flotilla were not large warships and certainly incapable of facing the patrolling enemy in open battle. Because of this they kept well off the coast to avoid them; a risky procedure now that winter had almost arrived. The armada was especially vulnerable far out at sea when a tempest struck. They were devastated; ‘most of the vessels and men on them were lost’ and Pleistarchus’ flagship went down with only thirty-three men surviving.3 Cassander’s brother was one of them but as so often in his life, both before and after this catastrophe, he had been unlucky. Napoleon Bonaparte famously said the most important quality for a general was being lucky and one feels he would not have employed this bird of ill-omen in military command, however closely related to him he was.