Hoplites had light-armed support in the form of foot skirmishers and horsemen. These were all missile troops whose primary role during combat was to defend the flanks of their hoplite formation as it determined the battle's outcome. Light infantry lacked armor and was dominated by men using javelins (palta or akontia). In the 4th century, such fighters also carried a small shield (pelte) from which they were known as peltastai (peltasts). These javelineers could increase the accuracy and range of their weapons using a thong wrapped around the shaft which was unfurled during the throw to impart rifling-like spin. A man's last javelin was usually retained for close-in combat. Lesser numbers of foot skirmishers used longer ranging tools. These included archers (toxotai, using the bow or toxon) and slingers (sphendonetai, with the "shepherd's" sling).
Greek horsemen (hippeis) rode their small, shoeless mounts without stirrups. They seldom had shields and usually fought with javelins (though Athens had some mounted archers as well). Here again, a last javelin could serve as a short lance should hand-to-hand fighting become necessary. Riders formed compact rectangular, triangular and diamond shaped arrays and maneuvered at modest speed to better keep good order. Chariot-mounted horsemen were extinct in Greece, but still survived among the Greeks of Cyrene (as well as on the isle of Cyprus). Cyrenean chariots were similar to those used elsewhere in North Africa (by the Carthaginians and Libyans [Head 1982, 179-1801), featuring four horses and three passengers (Diodorus 22.40.41). The latter consisted of one driver and two fighting men armed with javelins. Chariots usually fought spaced out in a line and were accompanied by small teams of light infantry out-runners.
The contending armies came up against each other on the plain outside of Cyrene. Their manpower is highly speculative, but we can derive estimates from the lone number in our sources: 3,000 men for the Messenian contingent (Diodorus 14.33.3). These might have been some 2,400 hoplites and 600 javelinmen (assuming a ratio in line with prevailing trends in southern Greece, the original Messenian homeland). As for the exiles, they must have been at least equal in number. This suggests a combined rebel force of around 5,000 spearmen and 1,500 in light infantry. Mounted troops in this land famous for its horse breeding (Hornblower and Spawforth 1996, 421) would have been abundant by period standards. We might then propose 500 or so local cavalrymen with 50 chariots. This gives 650 horsemen in all, equal to about one for every four hoplites among the exiles and consistent with estimates for other horserich musters in this era. Granted that the city folk willingly offered open battle, it's likely that they fielded a fair match in heavy infantry. Yet they should have been stronger in mounted resources, since the Messenians had brought no cavalry on their voyage. Thus, even if the rebels had a larger number of aristocratic riders, we might still project that the city army probably held a 50 percent or better advantage in the size of its cavalry and chariot corps.
Both sides would have arrayed in some version of the ubiquitous main battle formation of classical Greece known as the "phalanx." This array is best distinguished as the "Doric phalanx" (after those old invaders into the Peloponnese, who are credited with its invention) to distinguish it from the "Macedonian phalanx" (a variant to which it would give rise in the mid-4th century). This was a linear body of hoplites ordered by rank and file, with ranks commonly ranging from hundreds to over 1,000 men in width. Files normally had a count of eight men, but could increase to provide greater combat capability (improving othismos, boosting confidence and crowding the way for anyone who might want to retreat from the front) or fit a narrow battlefield. Files could also be reduced. This sacrificed durability to provide a broader formation when needed, though files of less than six men were difficult to maneuver for all but the most professional troops (Goldsworthy 1996, 196-197). It was also hard to keep good order when traversing broken ground, thus phalanxes generally kept to the flattest terrain available. Spearmen in the phalanx stood with shields nearly overlapping, thus presenting a front of lm per man (the width of his aspis). Not a very agile formation given its need for such tight spacing, the phalanx was at hazard at the back and on either end (especially the right, which was the hoplites' "spear" side where their file had no protection from shields held on the left arm). An attack on these areas almost always caused the array's members to break apart and trigger defeat. It was therefore standard procedure to screen the flanks with light infantry and cavalry to secure against a lateral strike or the enemy folding around the end of the line (an "envelopment") to attack from the rear as well.
Based on the foregoing speculation on army sizes, the phalanxes at Cyrene would probably have deployed eight men deep (or at "eight shields" to use the common terminology of the day). This created opposing lines over a stretch of around 625m. For the rebels, the local exiles undoubtedly stood on the right side (wing) of their formation, this having the unshielded flank and thus being the more dangerous post of honor for those fighting on home soil. The Messenians then took up the left wing of the phalanx. Initial deployment occurred as foot skirmishers dueled back and forth between the armies, buying time for the hoplites to observe the opposition's dispositions and adjust. Here it was important to approximately match the enemy's length of formation so as to avoid an overlap that might invite envelopment. If the assessment above of relatively even hoplite strengths for this action is correct, there would have been no need to rearrange the heavy formations at Cyrene. Both armies therefore simply called back their skirmishers, divided them to join the mounted troops on either flank and prepared to charge.
On signal by horn (salpinx), both phalanxes swept forward at a slow pace, men giving distinctive battle-cries to raise their spirits and singing rhythmic chants (a traditional war poem or paean) to stay in step and maintain good order as the fronts closed on each other. Finally, at no more than a few tens of meters separation, both sides picked up the pace a bit, raising dust from the dry earth as their front-fighters came together and began a duel of spears. With a dreadful crash of steel points striking shields, some yelled in fury and others screamed in pain as a cacophony of sound enclosed and deafened everyone along the line of battle. And given the swirling dust and restricted view from the narrow slits of a Corinthian helmet, sight was nearly as limited as hearing for those struggling to kill and stay alive, with sweat from the African heat and desperate effort streaming down to burn the eyes and further obscure their vision. And then there was the smell. Dust and sweat, of course, but also the products of bladders and bowels inevitably reacting to overwhelming waves of excitement and mortal fear. As the fight raged on, there was also the sickly sweet, metallic odor of blood as that precious fluid joined the other dreadful lubricants of war to slick the ground and make footing difficult during the violent give and take of combat.
Thrusting and stabbing with spear or broken shaft or swinging sword or saber, the frontfighters eventually closed shield-on-shield. Each phalanx then shoved with all its concerted might toward forcing the foe backwards. It would be crucial if even a few steps could be gained, because once a formation began building momentum and driving forward, its opponents would begin to panic. Men leading the files were trapped in place; caught in a claustrophobic press between friends shoving into their back and the enemy's force coming from ahead, they could only face forward and try amid the terrible crush to keep chest free and breathing within the hollow bowl of their aspis. Driven backwards, the fear of those losing ground at the front eventually infected their comrades in the rear. There at the phalanx's trailing edge, the troops putting their shoulders into the effort to drive ahead actually had the option to escape. If a strong sense of defeat ever got to them, the entire formation would unravel from the tail up as one rank after another peeled away to take off in a race for safety. At Cyrene, it was the exiles and Messenians who would fall prey to this disastrous sequence of defeat.
We have no account of just how the engagement turned, whether superior numbers of enemy riders chased off a flank screen to envelop one end of the line or if collapse was due to pre
ssure from spearmen along the front. Whatever the case, some rebel rear-rankers finally decided to run for it and started a chain reaction that tore their phalanx apart. Diodorus' report on casualties (15.34.5) suggests that the decisive failure might have come among the exiles. While they suffered heavy losses, the majority got clear. The Messenians, on the other hand, were killed "almost to a man." This is most consistent with the exiles fleeing, either yielding to overwhelming force or simply losing heart. In fact, this last seems the more likely prospect given that the winners also suffered serious losses. The intense physical demands of phalanx battle usually made for a short fight (though mutual pauses along the front might stretch things out some) and heavy casualties were normally confined to the losers, mounting as they turned to run and were cut down from behind. Steep losses among the winners are therefore indicative of an uncommonly long and ferocious melee that shed a lot of blood on both sides before somebody gave way. This implies that some of the exiles may have lost their nerve during an especially long fight and became the first to run. At any rate, the ensuing rout probably saw the Messenians clinging too long to their post. Their foes were thus able to surrounded them (carrying out a "double envelopment" in military terms), press in from all sides and, rejecting any attempts at surrender, complete a massacre. The Cyrenean factions thereafter negotiated a peaceful reunion. It would be nice to think that the surviving families of the slaughtered Messenians might have benefited from this settlement, but the record is mute.
The Ten Thousand
Cyrene wasn't the only place outside Greece to see that land's warriors in action after the Peloponnesian War. While the Messenians were meeting their doom on the shore of Africa, a large body of Greek mercenaries was fighting its way along the coast of the Euxine (Black) Sea. Many such soldiers for hire had been idled by the cessation of combat in Europe and a host of them had taken service with the Persian prince Cyrus. They had followed him into the heart of the vast empire of his brother Artaxerxes II, Great King of Persia, on a quest to usurp the throne for their young paymaster. These Greeks, around 14,000 strong with over 10,000 hoplites, had taken their share of the field during a great battle in 401 at Cunaxa near Babylon. There, they had carried all before them on their wing without losing a single man, only to have Cyrus fall elsewhere that day and bring their expedition to ruin. An act of Persian treachery then claimed most of the Greeks' generals. Keeping their heads, the mercenaries elected new commanders and set out for home on a long march (anabasis) through hostile country. The epic story of their journey has come down to us today through the memoir of one of its leaders (and later historian), Xenophon of Athens.
The mercenary army dusted off Persian pursuit and pushed aside hostile natives to make a brutal winter crossing of the mountains between the valley of the Euphrates River and the Black Sea. In the late spring of 400, it was moving at last just below the coast in the land of the Colchians, who massed in line of battle on the side of a large mountain and across the road forward. Xenophon stood before his comrades and said: "Soldiers, these men yonder whom you see are the only ones who still stand in the way ... if we possibly can, we must simply eat these fellows raw" (Anabasis 4.8.14).
Colchis and Metropolis (400 B.C.)
The arduous winter trek had combined with desultory fighting along the way to take a heavy toll on the Greeks who had set out after Cunaxa. They currently numbered under 10,000, including around 8,000 hoplites and 1,800 peltasts, slingers, archers and horsemen (Xenophon Anabasis 4.8.15-19). On the other side, the number of Colchians is unknown, but it was no doubt in the thousands to give those tribesmen enough confidence to risk battle with a foe whose strength they must have scouted. The Colchians, like other barbarians in their region (Nelson 1975, 62-63), were shock fighters. They wore metal helmets and, possibly, some body armor, carrying shields of medium to large size and thrusting spears similar in proportion to those of the Greeks. They may also have had a few javelin-armed foot skirmishers.
The mercenaries at first matched the opposing line by setting up in a phalanx with files of four (such as they had used at Cunaxa); however, they quickly grew concerned that this thin array might be penetrated. They therefore reformed upon the advice of Xenophon into 80 columns, each having a single 100-man company (lochos, lochoi plural) of hoplites and separated by 50m so as to keep the former formation width. (Note that the term "lochos" also applied to larger units [battalions] that commonly had 300-600 men.) Any attack into the gaps between columns was to be met by the companies turning back into line to support each other. The spearmen could now advance with less fear of disarray (order being much easier to keep over uneven ground with deep files) and strike with greater depth for security and othismos while still covering the same broad front. As for the light infantry, it took station in three groups of 600 men apiece, with one team skirmishing in front and the others along the sides.
Once redressed, the Greeks began to move upslope toward their foes at a deliberate pace. Their senior general, the Spartan Cheirisophus (who had commanded the army's vanguard during the march), led the companies on the right wing and Xenophon (who had commanded the rearguard on the road) led those on the left. The barbarians could clearly see that they were going to be flanked not only by the enemy's skirmishers but by their hoplites on each wing as well; they responded by attacking outboard on both ends. This rendered their center virtually unmanned. The peltasts leading in front of the mercenaries gave cry and charged into this opening as the hoplites in the center followed to split the Colchians in two. Its formation now hopelessly compromised, the barbarian horde cut and ran. The Greeks thus claimed the field and reached the sea at the Grecian city of Trapezus within two days.
The mercenaries sent Cheirisophus off by ship to seek transport home and settled in to wait. They supported themselves by raiding into Colchis and got aid from the local Greeks in return for helping them make war on nearby enemies. But as time wore on, the foraging became less fruitful and met growing resistance. The army finally decided to move on to more promising territory and, after sending off its sick and aged aboard a few small vessels available at Trapezus, it headed west along the coast. A count at this point tallied some 8,600 men (Xenophon Anabasis 5.3.3), apparently 7,000-7,600 hoplites and 1,000-1600 light infantry and horsemen. The mercenaries reached the Greek city of Cerasus after three days and rested briefly. They then entered the land of the Mossynoecians, another of the tribal folks in the region. These were fierce fighters armed with long (nearly 3m) thrusting spears with round counterweights on the butt. They had leather helmets with a tufted crest and carried wicker shields covered in white, shaggy ox-hide in the shape of a leaf of ivy (having three lobes at the top). The Mossynoecians wore no armor, but had thick tunics of linen and used throwing spears with hand-axes as secondary weapons. The first tribe encountered proved unfriendly, refusing safe passage through their land. Allying with a competing Mossynoecian band, the mercenaries set up before the wooden-towered coastal city of their foes, which sat on high ground and was called Metropolis.
The first attempt on the fortress failed. This happened when the allied tribesmen, who had deployed in front of the phalanx, charged prematurely and pulled some peltasts along. The city's defenders drove off this weak attack, killing "a considerable number of the barbarians and some of the Greeks who had gone up the hill with them" (Xenophon Anabasis 5.4.16). Falling back when the hoplites then advanced, the Metropolitans cut off heads and brandished them to taunt their enemies below. The mercenaries were angry, but with their allies in disarray they elected to withdraw. The next morning, however, they again formed in front of town, this time putting the excitable locals on the left flank under close supervision. They next sent their peltasts forward grouped into companies with bowmen between each unit. These skirmished at the fore as the hoplites slowly advanced, their array no doubt eight shields deep with Xenophon (now brevet commander in Cheirisophus' absence) on the right wing.
Asia./EGYPT
The Metropo
litans sallied several thousand strong against the peltasts and bowmen, yet gave way when these retired and the hoplites came forward. Then, as the phalanx neared town, the barbarians reversed once more, turning to hurl their small spears as they closed into shock combat with shield and heavy lance. This was just the sort of action for which the phalanx was designed and its hoplites pushed and speared relentlessly ahead, driving their tribal foes back all along the front until the barbarians' courage failed and they broke from the fight. The Metropolitans abandoned the city as the Greeks and their allies took the walls. Burning the local chieftain and his commanders alive when they tried to make a stand in one of the wooden towers, the victors sacked Metropolis before marching on to the polls of Cotyora.
The mercenaries had a long stay in Cotyora, where they found ships to sail farther west along the Black Sea strand and reach the port of Sinope. Cheirisophus finally rejoined them there. But instead of a fleet to take them home, the Spartan brought the offer of another contract, this one to serve Sparta, which was gathering an army at Byzantium to make war on Persia. The mercenaries now agreed to reaffirm Cheirisophus as their commander and broke into contingents that would proceed separately to Calpe Harbor in Thrace for a meeting with Spartan representatives (Xenophon Anabasis 6.2.16). The Arcadians and Achaeans from the northern Peloponnese formed the largest group with more than 4,000 hoplites under a team of ten captains. Next came the men from the southern Peloponnese, who were 1,400 spearmen with 700 Thracian peltasts. These followed Cheirisophus and had another Spartan, Neon, leading the contingent from his own polls (perhaps 700 spearmen remaining from an original complement of 1,000). The third group had men from outside the Peloponnese: 1,700 hoplites, 300 peltasts and 40 horsemen with Xenophon in command. The Arcadians and Achaeans immediately sailed out as the Spartan-led party marched away toward Thrace; then, after a small delay, Xenophon and his men took ship as well.
Greek and Macedonian Land Battles of the 4th Century BC Page 2