Yet Greek punishment of unlucky generals was no worse than at Carthage, where the ignominy of defeat brought disgrace for the commander's family but exile or crucifixion for the general.155 No wonder that the Spartan Anaxibius, the victim of his own carelessness and an ambush of Iphicrates, opportunely chose the noble (kalon) alternative—death in battle (Xen., Hell. 4.8.38). In contrast, Hasdrubal, killed at the Metaurus (207 BC), merited a fitting eulogy from Polybius (11.2) for taking the proper precautions but knowing his duty to die in defeat. Thus the frequent deaths of defeated generals often have little to do with their physical location within the phalanx at the start of battle or kinship with their men. Rather, failure demanded the ultimate sacrifice to avoid ignominy for the commander and to appease his city. Although defeated, the general could still claim a hero's status.
This survey of the transition from Homeric warrior chieftain to Hellenistic battle manager has traced the development of combat leadership in relationship to the evolution of the hoplite phalanx. The ethos of Homeric heroes continued to influence hoplite behavior even
after the abandonment of pre-state warfare, and the presence of commanders in combat remained essential, although their physical leadership on the front line (at least initially in battle) did not always occur. Indeed the age of the hoplite phalanx witnessed a trend (exceptions considered) for commanders to avoid the front rank at the beginning of battle and to return to this traditional position of physical leadership only in a phalanx battle's second stage, when they led the pursuit of a beaten foe or, alternatively, either tried to stem a rout of their own forces or sought death to salvage their own reputations in defeat. To apply this to Keegan's categories of command style, the hoplite general already shows a tendency to participate personally in combat sometimes, but certainly not always in the same sense as a Homeric warrior chieftain.
Believers in a single scenario for the combat role of the strategos in a phalanx (i.e., the general was always in the front rank and always entered combat) will no doubt find these results disturbing. Some generals sought personal combat; others did not. Battle involves too many historical variables for a single scenario to satisfy all cases. The traditional scenario is a composite picture of direct evidence, logical inference, and conjecture, since no single ancient account of a phalanx battle provides all the details that we moderns wish to know, and (as suggested above pp. 125–6) a 'typical' hoplite battle is illusory. Certainly this study has not answered all questions of where the general was at every moment in battle: if he was not in the front rank, where was he? For all battles we simply do not know from direct and unequivocal evidence, although some cases suggest the rear and others indicate a position somewhere in the phalanx but behind the front rank. In ancient history a comprehensive, neat picture is not always possible, and there is value in recognizing the limits of the evidence. In fact, the opinio communis would often seem to exaggerate the extent to which one man fighting for his life in the front rank could control an army of hundreds or thousands and gage the course of a battle along an entire front sometimes hundreds of yards long. The role of battle manager did not exist from the beginning of the hoplite phalanx, but evolved over time. Some additional considerations remain to complete this account of the general as hoplite.
When the delimiting rules of Greek in-group warfare started to collapse, tactical considerations demanded that battles be managed as well as fought. Brains could now negate superior brawn. Supervision of combat required, apparently beginning at some point in the fourth century, the added mobility and visibility provided by a horse. The
emerging significance of cavalry as an independent tactical arm and the prevalence of Macedonian influence from the time of Philip and Alexander guaranteed that Hellenistic army commanders would usually be mounted. Furthermore, the increasing importance of the general's person necessitated that he either did not enter battle or, if he had to, that he did so cautiously (cf. Garlan 1975:146–7). A general's rash personal daring, so the Hellenistic argument ran, could hurt his cause more if he were killed than a single man's contribution would aid victory.156 Or, as Livy asserted in describing the duel of Junius Brutus and Arruns Tarquinius (2.6.8), decorum est tum ipsis capessere pugnam ducibus—implying that in his own time personal combat by commanders was improper. No doubt the 'Achilles complex' of the philokindynos Alexander influenced this shift in military theory, as criticism from the great Macedonian's contemporary Nearchus demonstrates (FGrHist 133 F 42.3=Arr., Anab. 6.13.4). It is important, nevertheless, to emphasize—and it is confirmation of the trend in command style argued in this chapter—that this alleged Hellenistic idea already occurs at the end of the fifth century: Cyrus the Younger was strongly advised not to enter battle at Cunaxa in 401 BC.157
Cyrus refused to listen: a king must show that he is worthy of the kingdom he seeks to win.158 A commander's personal bravado still mattered; generals on occasion still charged headlong to their doom. Homeric arete, however, also changed in the age of the hoplite phalanx. The Iliad's chieftains were distinguished in arms and privileges—the benefits of superior arete. Tyrtaeus transvalued arete for the emerging phalanx of the nascent Greek city-state, but officers and especially strategoi still marked themselves by dress and, later, greater pay and booty. The democratic phalanx did not eliminate the gradation of leaders from followers: Xenophon (Anab. 3.1.37) testifies to their continued distinctness.
By the early fourth century even the criterion of heroic death differed for generals and rank and file. All types of battle deaths for generals were no longer equal. Surprised before the walls of Haliartus (395 BC) at the head of his army, Lysander suffered the inglorious death of a peltast or a scout, as did Hannibal's foil Claudius Marcellus, ambushed by Numidians in 208 BC.159 Such deaths were improper for generals. The distinction of strategos from stratiotai became a permanent feature of antiquity in judging a general's personal daring.160
Even so, a general's personal, physical leadership was demanded in
HOPLITES times of crisis. Two final examples will suffice. At the siege of Amida (AD 359), to boost the sagging morale of his army and although a Persian king was not obliged to enter battle, Sapor II led a charge proeliatoris militis ritu against the Roman garrison. Similarly, in one of history's most poignant instances of heroism, Brig.-Gen. Lewis A. Armistead commanding his brigade in Pickett's Charge (3 July 1863), initially drew his sword only as he broke the first Union line on Cemetery Ridge, placed his hat upon its point, and with his sword-tipped hat raised above his head charged to meet his maker against the second Union line. If the thesis of a recent book arguing the influence of the Celtic military tradition and Sir Walter Scott's novels on the American Southern aristocracy be accepted, then we gain some sense through a modern example of how the Homeric ideals of the warrior chieftain continued to affect the general as hoplite.
NOTES
Works referred to by author alone or with short title or date are cited in full in the Bibliography to this volume.
1. Plut., Pyrrh. 16.7–8; on the importance of presence of mind (phronein in Plutarch, echein noun in Polybius) to generalship see Polyb. fr.63 B-W: 'Generals must have presence of mind and be daring—(properties) which indeed are most important for precarious and hazardous acts.' Cf. Polyb. 10.3.7.
2. Plut., Pyrrh. 1.2, 7.4; Just. 17.3. On Achilles see K.C.King, Achilles: Paradigms of the War Hero from Homer to the Middle Ages (Berkeley, 1987) 2–7, 58–66, 104.
3. Cf. van Creveld's definition of 'command,' understood as the modern C3I (command, control, communications, intelligence): M.van Creveld, Command in War (Cambridge, Mass., 1985) 5–6. The general's duties as tactician and strategist lie beyond the scope of this chapter.
4. Scipio: Front., Strat. 4.7.4; Iphicrates: Plut., Mor. 187B; van Creveld (supra n. 3) 17. Battlefield duels between opposing commanders are attested as late as the Thirty Years' War: see Fuller 1958:152 n. 4.
5. A cursory discussion of the transition in John Keegan, The Mask of Command (New Yor
k, 1987) 122–4; also see Van Creveld (supra n. 3) 6, 9. Cf. H.H.Turney-High, The Military: the Theory of Land Warfare as Behavioral Science (West Hanover, 1981) 250–71.
6. Risikobereitschaft—readiness for risk. On the Homeric code see W. Jaeger, Paedeia, I (2nd edn, Oxford, 1945) 3–14; King (supra n. 2) 2–28; Keegan (supra n. 5) 123; on risk see Latacz 1977:153–9.
7. Thuc. 2.42.3; Dion.Hal., Ant. Rom. 5.17.5–6; King (supra n. 2) 47; N. Loraux, The Invention of Athens: the Funeral Oration in the Classical City, tr. A.Sheridan (Cambridge, Mass., 1986) 52, 99.
8. M.Detienne, 'La phalange: problèmes et controverses,' in Vernant 1968:128–31, 140; P.Vidal-Naquet, 'La tradition de 1'hoplite athénien,' in Vernant ibid.: 170–74. Cf. Plut., Ages. 26.4–5, Mor. 214A; Polyaenus 2.1.7. I owe this reference to Plutarch to Victor Hanson.
9. Tyrtaeus fr. 12 West; Hor., Carm. 3.2.13: Dulce et decormest pro patria mori; cf. Eur., Tro. 386–7; Cic., Phil. 14.31; Verg., Aen. 2.317; Jaeger (supra n. 6) 90–4; Detienne (supra n. 8) 129–31; C.W.Müller, "Der schöne Tod des Polisbürger oder 'Ehrevoll ist es, für das Vaterland zu sterben,'" Gymnasium 96 (1989) 317–40 (written without reference to Loraux's work).
10. Loraux (supra n. 7) 52; 'HEBE et ANDREIA: deux versions de la mort du combattant athénien,' AncSoc 6 (1975) 30; 'Mourir devant Troie, tomber pour Athènes: De la gloire du héros à 1'idée de la cité,' Social Science Information 17 (1978) 801–17.
11. Jaeger (supra n. 6) 32–4, 45–9, 185–6, 199–204, 216–18; H.I.Marrou, A History of Education in Antiquity, tr. G.Lamb (Madison, 1982) 3–13.
12. Ar., Ran. 1034–5; Pl, Ion 541B, Lach. 191A-B, Rep. 10.606E; Xen., Symp. 4.6; Isoc. 4.159; Strab. 1.2.3–4; Paus. 4.28.7–8; Jaeger (supra n. 6) 196; E.A.Havelock, Preface to Plato (Cambridge, Mass., 1963) 61–86; W.J.Verdenius, 'L'lon de Plato,' Mnemosyne 11 (1943) 245–52. On the Homeric Tactica see Wheeler 1983:17 n. 85,18 n. 91 and 'Polla kena tou polemou: the history of a greek proverb,' GRBS 29 (1988) 179–80.
13. Hanson (1989:25, 220–1, and passim) generally discounts the Homeric legacy of hoplite battle. Cf. my review in Journal of Interdisciplinary History 21 (1990) 122–5.
14. Thuc. 5.66.3–4, 68.3; Xen., Lac. Resp. 11.4–6; Kromayer and Veith 1928:35.
15. Keegan (supra n. 5) 315–38; R.A.Beaumont, 'Command method: a gap in military historiography,' Naval War College Review 31.3 (1979) 70–1. On willing obedience see Xen., Cyr. 1.1.3–5, 6.20–1; 3.1.37; 5.3.1–4; 7.1.41–5; R.Höistad, Cynic Hero and Cynic King (Uppsala, 1948) 78–86.
16. E.Lammert, 'Die geschichtliche Entwicklung der griechischen Taktik,' NJb (1899) 11; Delbrück (tr. Renfroe 1975) I, 232; Adcock 1957:6; Snodgrass 1967:62; Anderson 1970:70–1; Pritchett, War 2. 206; Garlan 1975:146; van Creveld (supra n. 3) 42; Keegan (supra n. 5) 119, 122–4, 331; P.Cartledge, Agesilaus and the Crisis of Sparta (Baltimore, 1987) 206; G.M.Paul, 'Two battles in Thucydides,' EchMC1 6 (1987) 307; on fatality rates and wounds see Hanson 1988:200–201 with n. 30 and 1989:107–8, 111–14, 162–4.
17. Cf. Delbrück (tr. Renfroe 1975) I, 232 on Alexander and the transition to battle manager. Delbrück's emphasis on the role of tactical reserves ignores that the idea of reserves began to develop in the late fifth century: see Wheeler 1983:2 n. 4. On Macedonian kingship see A.E. Samuel, 'Philip and Alexander as kings,' AHR 93 (1988) 1270–86; Alexander and Achilles: P.R.Hardie, 'Imago Mundi: cosmological and ideological aspects of the shield of Achilles,' JHS 107 (1987) 25–31; P.A. Stadter, Arrian of Nicomedia (Chapel Hill, 1980) 74–6, cf. A.B. Bosworth, Conquest and Empire: the reign of Alexander the Great (Cambridge, 1988) 38–9. According to Onesicrirus, Alexander slept with
the Iliad under his pillow: FGrHist 134 F 38=Plut., Alex. 8.2. Keegan (supra n. 5) 122–3 and passim exaggerates Alexander's role as a religious leader in his position as warrior king.
18. Marathon and Plataea against supposed Persian hordes hardly qualify as 'typical', and the tradition about Marathon (despite detailed topographical investigations and the publication of at least one article on the battle nearly every year) is so steeped in Athenian propaganda as to be of questionable credibility. Cf. Theopompus, FGrHist 115 F 153.
19. Ritualistic aspects: Pritchett, War 4.1–7; Detienne, in Vernant 1968:124; cf. Connor 1988:3–27; on military myths about the Archaic Period see Schwertfeger 1982:253–80; Wheeler 1987:157–82. Herodotus 7.9B.1–2 offers strong support that at least some aspects of the typical hoplite battle antedate the fifth century, although I surmise that a systematic survey of Greek military activity in the seventh and sixth centuries would conclude that few formal pitched battles (parataxeis) between Greek phalanges occurred. On the rules of Greek warfare see Lonis 1969; Garlan 1975:23–77; P.Karavites, Capitulations and Greek Interstate Relations (Hypomnemata 71: Göttingen, 1982) 13–26; J.de Romilly, 'Guerre et paix entre cités,' in Vernant 1968:207–20; on rules of war in general cf. E.L.Wheeler, The modern legality of Frontinus' stratagems,' Militärgeschichtliche Mitteilungen 44.1 (1988) 7–29 and J. Huizinga, Homo Ludens (New York, 1950) 11–12, 64–5, 89–100.
20. On the changes in Greek warfare see de Romilly (supra n. 19); Garlan 1974; Ferrill 1985:149–86 with my review in Armed Forces and Society 14 (1987) 156–8; Wheeler 1981:74–9; career officers: Lengauer 1979, cf. C.W.Fornara (1966) on the new position of strategos autokrator at Athens: The Athenian Board of Generals from 501 to 404 (Historia Einzelschrift 16: Wiesbaden, 1971) 14, 64; mercenaries: Parke 1933; Best 1969; L.P.Marinovic, Le mercenariat grec et la crise de la polis, tr. J. and Y.Garlan (Paris, 1988); epilektoi: Detienne, in Vernant 1968:134–42; G.Hoffman, 'Les choisis: un ordre dans la cité grecque?' Droit et Cultures 9–10 (1985) 15–26; Lazenby 1985:54–6; N.Loraux, 'La "belle mort" spartiate,' Ktema 2 (1977) 117–18; Garlan 1989:149–50; L. Tritle, 'Epilektoi at Athens,' AncHistBull 3 (1989) 54–9; cf. Hanson 1989:124; on the hoplomachoi see Wheeler 1983:1–9.
21. Contrary to modern usage, the term 'phalanx' in classical Greek does not denote a specific formation but either an arrangement of troops broader than it is deep or simply a 'battleline.' A battle formation in the sense of Schlachtordnung is taxis or parataxis: see Lammert 1938:1631–5. Latin usage of 'phalanx' and the term in Greek writers of the Hellenistic and Roman periods can be more specific: cf. Wheeler 1979:303–18; B. Bar-Kochva, Judas Maccabaeus: the Jewish struggle against the Seleucids (Cambridge, 1989) 76 nn. 23–4, 432–7.
22. Xen., Cyn. 12; Cyr. 1.2.10, 6.28–9, 39–41; 7.5.62–4; 8.1.34–8; Pl, Euthd. 290B-D; Garlan (1989) 24–6; J. Aymard, Essai sur les chasses romaines (BEFAR 171: Paris, 1951) 470–2; cf. H.D.Dunn, 'The hunt as an image of love and war in classical literature' (Diss.U.Calif., Berkeley, 1980); Turney-High (supra n. 5) 21.
23. Turney-High (supra n. 5) 25–45, esp. 30, 34, and Primitive Warfare: its
Practice and Concepts, (2nd edn, Columbia, 1971) 61–90, 145–7;E. A.Thompson, The Early Germans (Oxford, 1965) 48–9, 56, 63–4; Neolithic painting: Ferrill 1985:21. For a full bibliography on pre-state warfare see R.B.Ferguson with L.E.Farragher, The Anthropology of War: a Bibliography (H.F.Guggenheim Foundation, Occasional Papers 1: New York, 1988). Keegan's scenario (supra n. 5, 8–10) for the evolution of the warrior chief from the hunting band leader need not be taken as universal.
24. Il. 2.362, 655, 668; Lammert/Lammert 1921:440. Van Wees (1986:296, 298 with n. 64, 299), overlooking the Rhodians, rejects any connection between Nestor's advice (Il. 2.362) and actual organization of the Achaean or Trojan war bands. Indeed he claims that kin groups never formed the basis of military organization in Greek history. This view ignores the anthropological data from comparable pre-state societies (cf. supra n. 23), denies the well-known connections between social and military organization (cf. the modern classic, S.Andreski, Military Organization and Society (Berkeley, 1971)), and seems contradictory to his own anthropological citation of the Philippine Tausug as a parallel to the retinues of Homeric chieftains. Although at Athens, the best documented polis, direct evidence is lacking and the relationship of clans and phratries to the
organization of the pre-Cleisthenic army may be 'theoretical,' to reject all kin groups as a component of military organization is hypercritical. Cf. Frost 1984:283–5, 293; P.Siewert, Die Trittyen Attikas und die Heeresreform des Kleisthenes (Vestigia 33: Munich, 1982) 156. For a belief in tribal organization of the early Spartan army (cf. Tyrtaeus fr. 19 West) see Cartledge (supra n. 16) 427–8, cf. Lazenby 1985:50–2, 70–2. Furthermore, Van Wees denies any possible regional or kin association in the five Trojan units which attack the Achaean ships (Il. 12.86ff), but comparative data would support a contrary view: the retinues of German war chiefs could be 'inter-tribal.' See Thompson (supra n. 23) 58.
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