Greek and Macedonian Land Battles of the 4th Century BC

by Fred Eugene Ray Jr

  The reality was that Philip's army didn't have a favorable reputation at the time, while its greater numbers applied only to infantry. The Paeonians actually had many more horsemen, who represented their very best troops. If the tribesmen could elude defeat for just a little while in the center of the field, it wasn't unreasonable to think that their outstanding cavalry would drive its less numerous mounted opponents from the wings and then go on to envelop and rout the Macedonian phalanx. With something like this in mind, the Paeonians must have awaited Philip on ground that gave their horsemen plenty of room to maneuver. It's also probable that the chosen site had tree-covered uplands not too far in the rear. These would provide vital avenues of escape and shelter should things turn out badly.

  Seeing his foes gathered in the distance, Philip signaled to turn his troops out of their marching column and into phalanx formation. Use of the term dekka or "ten" for the phalangite file in later years (when it commonly held 16 men) suggests that this was the depth of Philip's original array where sarissa-armed at center and left. But on the right, where the king stood with his hypaspists and hired hoplites, the phalanx would have been either eight or twelve men deep. His heavy infantry thus fronted across maybe 650m at about Im per hoplite and perhaps two-thirds that per phalangite once fully closed for combat. (Note that the narrowest width assumed here for the phalangite is only slightly broader than that of his pelte, but this device would have, in fact, been held at an angle to permit use of the sarissa alongside. Polybios [18.28.2] cited approximately Im spacing for pikemen in the 2nd century, during the phalanx's final, more attack-oriented phase. His interval fits the "intermediate" spacing of Asclepiodotus [4.1], whose 1st century work incorporated that of his teacher Poseidonius and, hence, of the older Polybios and a plethora of even more ancient military manuals. Thus, pikemen of earlier times might well have converged to less than Im spacing. Indeed, the separation for Asclepiodotus' "closest order" was only around 0.5m, allowing phalangites to square up nearly shield-rim to shieldrim with the sarissa held tight against the body much as done by unshielded Swiss pikemen of the 15th and 16th centuries A.D. [Oldfather, 269]. Comparisons of calculated formation widths to manpower estimates and citations from the literature for all pike deployments during the 4th century suggest that a 2/3m spacing matches well with the apparent frontages of that era.) As for Philip's cavalry and light footmen, they must have split off either wing. The Paeonians divided their own supporting troops in a like manner as the bulk of their infantry (maybe 4,000 men) spread across the intervening stretch to confront the phalanx.

  There is no surviving account of the ensuing battle; nonetheless, the size and nature of the forces involved plus Arrian's descriptions (1.1.11-13, 1.4.1-4) of actions with similar armament mixes suggest a likely course. The opening phase was surely dominated by fighting along the flanks, where Philip's peltasts got out ahead of their cavalry to engage the opposing skirmishers and horsemen. Now better organized and drilled, the Macedonian light footmen fought to good effect, largely exhausting Paeonian missile supplies. The hetairoi moved up at this juncture, charging among the enemy to drive them back and beyond a wing of their infantry formation. Up until then, the barbarians in the middle of the battleground had been holding their own, hurling javelins into a phalanx that couldn't advance with its flanks still at risk. This began to change when the hetairoi and their escorts were able to envelop one side of the line. Those few among the tribesmen who had spear and shield must have made a desperate attempt to fend off this assault, but their efforts came to naught as the Macedonian horse soon broke through on the other flank as well. With both ends of their alignment at last safe from attack, Philip and his shock troops were finally free to move ahead. They swiftly closed on their foes, who in all likelihood gave way long before the more numerous and heavily armed Macedonians could come into lethal contact.

  Scattering into the backing hills, most of those defeated should have made good their escape. This reflects the fact that Philip's skirmishers alone were able to give extended chase, yet undoubtedly refused to do so for fear that they would be badly outnumbered once into the woods. Paeonian fatalities therefore probably amounted to only around 5-10 percent. Nearly all of these came from the 3,000 or so riders and peltasts that had dueled so fiercely along the flanks. Macedonian losses were no doubt even lighter, perhaps less than 200 dead. Again, most of those who lost their lives were light-armed men that had gone down off the wings. However, a few phalangites must have fallen to javelins as well, their small shields offering inadequate protection during what had been a fairly lengthy barrage. Whatever the relative casualties might have been, one thing is clear: the Paeonians were convinced of Philip's superiority. They therefore accepted terms that for the moment left their nation subordinate.

  Philip's victory in this battle was the product of a well balanced mix of arms that progressed in an orderly sequence, culminating in his phalanx's advance to seize the field. And it's notable that that last infantry action was absolutely crucial. This was because the Paeonians' loose array of peltasts, unlike a close-ordered formation, could turn and confront a lateral mounted attack such as the hetairoi had launched, but at the same time were quite helpless against a frontal push from heavy footmen.

  Lyncus Plain (358 B.c.)

  With his northern frontier safe for the time being, Philip turned westward that summer to regain the territory lost by his brother. The Illyrian tribesmen there presented a daunting challenge, able to match his manpower with 10,000 foot soldiers and 500 riders of their own (Diodorus 16.4.4). Moreover, their infantry had a strong component of shock fighters, possibly making up 7,000 of the total. These warriors used a heavy-headed sibyna spear and bossed shield. Philip had to have known that they would put his as yet untried hypaspists and native phalangites to a stern test of hand-to-hand combat. Finally, there was the matter of their leader. The Macedonian wasn't facing a newly enfranchised king like himself this time, but rather a grizzled veteran of many a war. Bardylis, the Dardanian monarch, might have been 90 years old (Wilkes 1992, 120), yet was still sturdy enough to take the field on horseback.

  Bardylis at first tried to head off the conflict by offering a treaty that would preserve the status quo. Philip, however, would have nothing to do with any deal that left his western provinces in enemy hands. Perhaps expecting this response and confident from past successes against Macedonia, the Illyrian moved to offer battle on open ground. Hammond suggests (1994, 26) that this was just west of the Kirli Dirven pass on the plain of Lyncus. Philip arrived and deployed his phalanx much as he had in its first action, with the phalangites at left and center, hired hoplites and hypaspists from the right in that order and cavalry and light infantry split off both wings. As for Bardylis' arrangements, Diodorus' claim of a square formation (16.4.6) is confused even in context of his own battle description and, since such tactics are unattested elsewhere save in retreat for either barbarians or Greeks in this era, the version of Frontinus (2.3.2) is to be preferred. This indicates that the Illyrian leader set up in a linear fashion, his heavy infantry matching the phalanx's width with even deeper files and having the best men fronting in the middle with horsemen and skirmishers outboard.

  If the victory in Paeonia had been the product of various arms finely mixed in sequence, then the probable scenario at Lyncus Plain seems to call for an even more impressive work of synchronous combination. The formations had closed together, Illyrian at a quick pace and Philip's slowly so as to keep good order. When they finally met, a vicious melee was set in motion from one end of the field to the other. All the elements of the phalanx at this point moved in chorus to execute their deadly tasks. Left through center, the pikemen held firm, their long weapons keeping enemy spear points out of range even as they wounded at least a few among those leading the barbarian effort. At the same time, Philip and his spearmen made progress on the right, striking furiously into their foes as othismos from the rear ranks pushed them relentlessly ahead. In contrast, the front
-fighters opposing them got much less help from behind and were powerless to resist the intense, file-length pressure coming at them. In the end, these men had no choice but to yield ground. As the Dardanian left began edging back, it was the hetairoi and their skirmishers that now excelled, easing the way for their hoplites and hypaspists by clearing all enemy horsemen and light foot from that flank. Exposed and put upon beyond endurance, the Illyrian left now gave way completely and sent the rest of the barbarian formation into frantic flight under fierce pursuit.

  Frontinus' account of the battle focuses on the turning by Philip's heavy infantry on his right, tying it to the subsequent break-up of the Illyrian array. This suggests that it was the hypaspists and foreign hoplites that carried the day. But then there's the report of Diodorus (16.4.6-7), where the hetairoi seem somewhat the more decisive element, skirting an enemy flank to trigger the rout. Yet, even here, Philip and his elite spearmen receive strong praise for their contributions as well. In truth, any discrepancy between these stories is perhaps not so very great. Much like the disparate tales told by the fabled blind men trying to describe an elephant, no version is strictly wrong, but all are required to paint an accurate picture of the entire animal. Without doubt, this victory on the Lyncus Plain derived once more from a combination of arms working in concert, with each contributing its share to Philip's ultimate success.

  Diodorus' tally of 7,000 slain among the barbarians in this action (16.4.7) is clearly an exaggeration. It might be better seen as a reckoning of the heavy infantry defeated than as an actual toll of the dead. (There is an odd account in Polyaenus [4.2.5] that tells of Philip slaughtering Illyrians in violation of a post-battle truce. This possibly reflects an attempt to rationalize the fantastic figure of Diodorus.) All the same, Dardanian casualties must have been very high ("several thousand" per Justin [7.6.7]), with a likely 20-30 percent killed. Philips' cost would have been quite a bit lower, perhaps some 3-5 percent going down in the fight or dying shortly thereafter. Bardylis appreciated the scope of his defeat and lost no time suing for peace.

  Philip next turned toward Thessaly. In the years following the death of its tyrant Jason of Pherae in 370, that region had split into hostile camps. By 358, this division pitted a federation of inland cities, the Thessalian League led by Larissa, against Jason's successors at Pherae, who controlled the lucrative coastal plain. Frustrated and the poorer/weaker faction, the League sought a partnership with Macedonia. Free to act in the fall after his victories against Paeonia and the Dardanians, Philip took on this obligation and made a show of force by marching into Thessaly. Staying barely long enough to marry a local noblewoman in affirmation of the new alliance, Philip returned home without a battle, but having put Pherae on notice.

  Along with his Thessalian demonstration, Philip also signed a treaty with the Molossians, those Greek tribesmen whose kingdom lay just west of Thessaly in Epirus. (He marked the deal with another marriage, this time to the Molossian princess Olympias. She would soon bear him a son - the future Alexander the Great.) Thus, the Macedonian king had acquitted himself well in his first months in power. Not only had he restored his nation's borders and honor, but he had spread its influence into Greece as well. Moreover, he had also regained a huge pool of manpower vested in the western provinces. Suborning those districts' nobles into his cavalry, Philip drafted the commoners into the phalanx. This influx of fresh troops let him significantly boost his strength (Polyaenus 4.2.17), likely doubling his home-grown fighting force within a year to match expansion of territory and subject population on that same order of magnitude (Hammond 1994, 20).

  Ortygia (357 B.c.)

  The region around Philip's realm in the far north wasn't the only section of the Greek world to see hostilities at this time, with even more far-flung Hellenic outposts coming into conflict as well. On Sicily, Dionysius II had followed his father as tyrant of Syracuse, but had proven less capable than his famed sire and, after nearly a decade in power, faced revolution. Leading this uprising was his son-in-law (and his father's brother-in-law), Dion. This ambitious fellow had sought to enlighten the tyranny with help from Plato (whom he had relocated to Syracuse), but had seriously overstepped his bounds and been forced to flee to Greece. There, he conspired to return with Heracleides, another exile and former commander of Dionysius' mercenaries. Staging on Zacynthus with some 3,000 troops (Parke 1933, 116, citing Anaximenes), Dion sailed out in 357 with half his men in tow, leaving Heracleides to follow with the rest.

  Dion landed in western Sicily to find that Dionysius and his general Philistus were in Italy with their fleet. Exploiting this bit of luck, he took off right away for Syracuse. Dion had some 1,500 fighters at most to begin this march. These likely included 500 hired skirmishers and 1,000 hoplites, the last including nearly 800 veteran professionals (Parke [1933, 116-117], derived from Plutarch [Vol. II Dion, 550]) plus a handful of Syracusan outcasts and some mainland volunteers. A swarm of local men (Plutarch said about 5,000 [Vol. II Dion, 553]) joined in route, maybe running the spearmen up to something like 2,000 (a figure that Diodorus' source perhaps escalated times ten in citing a force of 20,000 [16.9.61).

  Dion's opponents were mostly mercenaries, Dionysius I having long ago limited arms among the citizenry (Diodorus 14.10.4). Our sources provide fantastic numbers for this host, but it's likely that it didn't much exceed 10,000 fighters (Parke 1933, 114), with the claim by Plutarch (Vol. II Dion, 545) of 10,000 guardsmen being a nominal figure at precisely a tenth of Diodorus' infantry estimate (16.9.2 ). Based on prominent mention of peltasts by Plato (Parke 1933, 115), light footmen probably were a heavier than usual component, possibly forming a quarter or so of the tyrant's armament. While some of the mercenaries must have been Greek, many came from Spain (Iberians) and Italy. The latter were chiefly Campanian Oscans, though a few Etruscans and Gauls might have been present as well. Mercenary shock troops would have fallen into two categories. Iberians made up the smaller of these; wearing leather helmets and carrying large, center-grip shields, they used throwing spears and sabers (the falcata, with a downward curved blade much like the Grecian machaira). The larger class of heavy footmen was for the most part Campanian with some Greeks, all sporting hoplite or roughly comparable Oscan equipment. In support of these line troops were maybe 1,000 light horsemen (again, exactly a tenth of Diodorus' inflation), the aforementioned peltasts, some slingers and, possibly, a few archers.

  As Dion approached Syracuse, he managed to detach a portion of its defenses. A contingent of perhaps 1,500-2,000 men from nearby Leontini and Aetna held the plateau of Epipolae along the northwest side of the city. Dionysius had settled many of his Campanian mercenaries at these sites to provide a useful local recruiting pool; however, this also gave these men a concern other than Syracuse. By threatening their homes, Dion now pressured them into withdrawing, which left him free to take Epipolae. Having lost its high ground, the remaining garrison fled onto Ortygia, a fortified peninsula set apart beyond a narrow neck between the city's main harbor to the south and a smaller one on the north. Dion quickly spanned the connecting isthmus with a low wall to seal off this citadel.

  Dionysius landed on Ortygia a week later along with the balance of his army. Despite the desertions from Epipolae, he still had at least 6,000 heavy infantry, 2,000 foot skirmishers and a strong cavalry force with which to break the siege. However, though this included nearly three times the spearmen that Dion had first led into the city, the rebel leader had since grown stronger. Crowds of Syracusans had joined his cause and he was able to supply many of these with gear brought from Greece, including 2,000 shields (Plutarch Vol. II Dion, 551) for fitting out hoplites plus a store of spears and javelins. Added to the mercenaries and allies, these volunteers brought his foot troops up to something like 4,000 hoplites and 1,000 light missilemen. (The total of 5,000 infantry is, once more, a tenth of Diodorus' maximum. It also parallels his note that Dion had carried exactly that many panoplies to Sicily [16.9.5-10.3].) Throwing in some riders plus h
is siege wall and a literal mob of men with make-shift arms, Dion had the strength to make it very difficult for the tyrant to break out.

  Seeking to improve his odds, Dionysius made a show of negotiating to put the rebels off guard. Then, suddenly, he opened the gates of Ortygia and sent his army out to attack the Syracusans along their cross-wall. It seems that this construction wasn't all that substantial, having been thrown up in a couple of days at most; in fact, it very probably was like those deployed on Sicily in the past as temporary field works (Ray 2009, 230-232, 235). These were waisthigh piles of stones that served as a hardened front, hindering any attempt to shove into those behind it while leaving them clear to ply their spears above. Such conditions tended to stall a battle's leading edge and therefore favored the defense. However, a key to this tactic's success was to deploy in strength along the rampart, thus forcing attackers to constantly fend off an opponent rather than leaving them free to go after the wall itself. In this, the surprised and poorly mustered Syracusans failed miserably. The result was that the dictator's men pulled down portions of the flimsy barrier and pushed through.

  Seeing the enemy pour past the cross-wall, a party of Dion's hirelings moved up to slow their advance. Men fleeing from the wall disrupted the ranks of these well-seasoned fighters, throwing their counterattack into disorder; still, they bought Dion time to mobilize the bulk of his troops from their nearby camp. Meanwhile, Dionysius' soldiers were reacting to the initial resistance by hustling into some semblance of formation as well. Amid all the confusion, Dion was eventually able to move his hastily formed array into engagement along a narrow front (the isthmus being just over 1km long, but only about 300m wide). Crowded into this space, the rebel spearmen probably filed at ten to twelve shields against opponents standing up to 20 deep.