The Battle
Glaring silently at each other across the burning sands of a
lonely seaside plain near Raphia, two of the most powerful kings on earth,
Antiochos III and Ptolemy IV, each waited tensely for the other to make the
first move. The rival armies stood poised for action, separated by only a few
hundred yards of barren terrain as the withering afternoon sun beat down on
them.
In the Seleukid phalanx, frontline soldiers tipped back
their helmets and nervously shifted their sarissai from hand to hand as
officers paced back and forth, continually glancing off toward the far right,
where their young king was positioned with his royal guard. Across the field,
the common soldiers of the Ptolemaic phalanx waited impatiently in their
tightly-packed formation as drifting sand blew fitfully through their sweating
ranks. Then, in an instant, almost before either army knew what was happening,
the blast of a distant trumpet rang out and the great battle began.
Intending to crush Ptolemy with his strongest units before
the pharaoh’s superiority in heavy infantry could be brought to bear, the
impetuous Antiochos decided to stake his chances of victory on a risky
manoeuvre. On his command, the sixty war elephants guarding his right wing
surged powerfully toward the Ptolemaic line. Storming forward carrying towers
manned by phalangites and missile troops, the Seleukid beasts were a terrifying
sight to behold. From his position directly opposite this onslaught, Ptolemy
observed the great clouds of dust rising from the pounding feet of the
approaching enemy beasts and calmly ordered his response. In a matter of
seconds an answering charge of the pharaoh’s forty left-wing elephants pressed
forward. All across the battlefield, the eyes of soldiers and officers were
drawn toward the spectacle unfolding on the seaward flank as the opposing lines
of war elephants charged toward each other.
Meanwhile, a less conspicuous manoeuvre was also underway as
Antiochos ordered the rest of his right-wing units to advance toward the
Ptolemaic lines behind the elephant screen. The king then personally took
command of his 4,000 cavalry and led them in a wide arc off his right flank.
This movement was important not merely to place Antiochos in a flanking
position but also to help the Seleukid king skirt the chaos that was sure to
ensue as the lines of charging elephants closed between the two opposing wings.
Keeping an eye on his elephants’ advance while he prepared
the rest of his wing to receive Antiochos’ attack, Ptolemy soon noticed a
worrisome sign of weakness from his mahouts, who seemed to be having a
difficult time goading all their animals into the assault. Some of the
elephants had turned aside, intimidated by the size and rapid onset of so many
Seleukid beasts, while others were startled by the noise of battle and the
sting of the arrows launched by Antiochos’ Cretans, who had moved up in direct
support of the Seleukid elephants. By the time the two corps met, Antiochos’
menacing approach had caused Ptolemy’s counter-attack to stall, sputtering into
an ineffective piecemeal advance. Nevertheless, the struggle between the two
lines was extraordinarily fierce when they finally came to blows.
Trumpeting loudly as they crashed into one another, the
ranks of Seleukid and Ptolemaic animals quickly became confused as friend and
foe mingled in a disorganized mass of jostling bodies, gouging tusks and
crushing feet. Slamming together with tremendous force, some of the smaller
beasts were knocked off their feet immediately in the brutal shoving match,
throwing the soldiers in their towers to a certain death amidst the furiously
churning feet below. As the animals locked their tusks together and attempted
to force their way bodily through one another, it was immediately obvious that
Ptolemy’s side could not win such a lopsided struggle. Outnumbered in elephants
as well as in Cretan archers, which both sides employed in relatively large
numbers and which now joined the fight in support, the elephant battle began to
shift drastically in Antiochos’ favour. Unable to do much to remedy the
deteriorating situation, Ptolemy could only send word to his stray mahouts,
urging them to join the struggle in a desperate attempt to stem the Seleukid
tide.
Antiochos, meanwhile, continued to move his cavalry out
around the flank of the fighting. Trotting along at a slow, measured pace, the
young king patiently watched and waited for his chance to strike.
With the rest of the Seleukid right wing forces now
approaching, the fighting that enveloped Ptolemy’s elephants became
increasingly desperate. Pikemen lunged and stabbed at their foes from atop
their towers while mercenary Cretans dashed here and there, loosing arrows and
dispatching fallen riders with deadly efficiency. All the while the air was
rent with the unearthly bellowing and roar of clashing elephants as well as the
pitiful cries of those wounded beasts which lay gored and slashed on the bloody
sand. Before long the Seleukid commander ordered his uncommitted riders to
deliver a final charge to break their foes. As they thundered into the line of
wavering enemy, the terror of facing still more Seleukid elephants proved too
much for the fragile morale of the Ptolemaic elephants, who could do little but
flee.
As the pharaoh watched in alarm from his position amongst
cavalry, the Ptolemaic elephant screen collapsed in a flood of terrified
animals and fleeing soldiers. Through this mass of panicked men and beasts,
Antiochos’ great Indian elephants burst, trampling dozens of foot soldiers
caught in their path and tossing their massive heads back and forth, goring and
flinging the scattering Cretans like broken rag dolls. With his screen in
headlong flight, dozens of war elephants now charged unobstructed toward the
Egyptian king’s exposed left wing.
Acting quickly, Ptolemy seized hold of an aide and began
reeling off orders for immediate dispatch to his commanders. Before the young
king could finish speaking, however, a cry went up from the men to his left,
who had spotted through the rolling clouds of dust and sand a powerful force of
enemy cavalry moving quickly off their left flank. Realizing the dual peril his
cavalry was in, Ptolemy judged that his men stood a better chance against
Antiochos’ horsemen than against his rampaging elephants. Ordering his troopers
to wheel to their left and meet the Seleukid cavalry charge head-on, Ptolemy
spurred his horse away from his disintegrating left wing. Behind him, the
enemy’s stampeding beasts closed in on the unfortunate soldiers of his royal
guard unit. Though it grieved him to leave his men to their fate, at the moment
the pharaoh had more pressing concerns bearing down on him in the form of
Antiochos and 4,000 Seleukid cavalry.
Unable to work their mounts up to full charge speed before
Antiochos’ men were upon them, some of Ptolemy’s troopers were completely
unhorsed by the force of the collision. Others found themselves isolated
amongst hundreds of enemy horsemen whose impetus carried them far into the
Ptolemaic formation. Though some of Ptolemy’s cavalry held their ground and
fought back ferociously, the sheer momentum of Antiochos’ onset cracked not
only the Ptolemaic formation, but also its morale. Though the 700 elite
guardsmen surrounding the young pharaoh performed heroically, beating back any
attempted inroads, Ptolemy could see from this area of isolated success that
his men elsewhere were faring far worse. Already the flanks of his formation
had begun to fray as panicked and wounded troopers fled to the rear in the face
of Antiochos’ numerically superior cavalry.
While the cavalry battle raged on the flank, the attention
of the men of the royal guard infantry was riveted on the scene unfolding to
their front as the ground began to tremble under their feet. Overwhelmed by the
number and strength of Antiochos’ Indian elephants, the surviving beasts of
Ptolemy’s mangled screening force fled back toward the safety of their left
wing. Preceding them, a cloud of frantic Cretan archers raced to escape the
crushing feet of their own side’s animals as well as those of the enemy. On the
heels of this exodus, dozens of towering Seleukid elephants charged forward
trumpeting furiously. As the guardsmen began to flee the deadly press, the
Ptolemaic elephants, riderless, blind with fear or maddened by wounds, crashed
back through their ranks. Unable to stand up to this kind of punishment, the
unit broke, dissolving into a mass of scrambling fugitives who flung away
shields and weapons in their desperate bid for safety.
As the rampaging animals ploughed into the fleeing
guardsmen, Antiochos’ Greek mercenaries, who had been slowly advancing toward
Ptolemy’s peltasts, suddenly launched their own assault. Slamming into the
disorganized peltasts, whose position next to the guards ensured that they had
not escaped the elephant onslaught unscathed or unshaken, the mercenaries made
short work of the already-collapsing infantrymen, who quickly panicked. As
these troops joined the rest of Ptolemy’s left wing infantry in headlong
flight, the pharaoh’s cavalry, disturbed to see virtually the entire wing in
retreat, began to break contact, galloping toward the rear with all the speed
they could muster from their tiring horses. Once begun, this domino effect
could not be stopped and soon even Ptolemy’s redoubtable bodyguard cavalry were
thrown back in disarray, forcing the young pharaoh to flee for his life.
Across the field, Echekrates, commander of the Ptolemaic right wing, squinted into the distance, trying to make out what was happening on the pharaoh’s wing. The messages he had been receiving indicated that a stiffly-contested elephant engagement was underway, but information had not reached him in some time. Resolving not to act until the situation on the left was clarified, Echekrates turned back to his front where he noticed with concern a flurry of movement from the Seleukid elephant line opposite his position. In minutes his fears were confirmed as dust plumes rose ominously into the air behind the line of advancing animals. Realizing he could no longer afford to remain inactive, Echekrates ordered his screening force of thirty-three elephants forward to meet the approaching enemy. Almost immediately, however, the commander saw that something was wrong. Though their advance began well, as soon as his elephants caught sight of Antiochos’ forty-two elephants, they shied away and could not be made to advance any further. Frustrated at this setback, Echekrates was forced to improvise.
He quickly ordered the 8,000 Greek mercenaries covering the
right flank of the Egyptian phalanx to advance against the Arab troops opposite
them. To prevent any interference, Echekrates left his skittish elephant screen
in place, hoping that their presence would at least temporarily block the
Seleukid animals from flanking the Ptolemaic phalanx while he moved his
right-wing troops ahead around them. Turning to the left, Echekrates cast one
final glance back toward his king’s position, but what he saw was not
encouraging. Beyond the massed lines of Ptolemy’s stationary phalanx, the
pharaoh’s entire left wing had disappeared, enveloped in a dense cloud of dust
and sand that seemed to be trailing off to the rear. Despairing at the fate of
his king, but determined to try to restore the situation, Echekrates ordered
his men to attack.
Ignoring the elephant stand-off near their flank, the
general’s Greek mercenaries pushed forward until they could clearly see their
opponents, a force of 10,000 Arab light infantry which Antiochos had placed to
guard the flank of the Seleukid settler phalanx. In the distance, Echekrates
had assumed direct command of the rest of the wing, including the Gallic and
Thracian infantry as well as the 2,000 cavalry on the extreme right, and had
carefully swung out around the right side of the advancing elephants. Having
apparently gambled everything on the success of the forty-two animals of his
elephant corps, the Seleukid wing commander had left his men fatally exposed to
Echekrates’ attack.
Dashing past the lumbering beasts, Echekrates led his Greek
and mercenary horsemen in a wide arc around the 2,000 Seleukid cavalry that capped
the enemy line. Following in the general’s wake around the flank were 6,000
Gallic and Thracian infantry, who suddenly broke away from the path of the
cavalry and veered straight toward the Seleukid line. Though it was a
calculated risk, Echekrates was forced to make it, as he had to pin down the
enemy cavalry before he could deliver his decisive blow. Racing away to the
right, the general could see that his infantry were taking casualties from the
deadly fire of Persian and Agrianian archers and slingers stationed next to the
Seleukid horsemen. Kicking his heels into his mount, Echekrates shouted for his
men to follow him as he tore across the sandy ground at full speed.
The Gauls and Thracians, meanwhile, were advancing quickly
toward the enemy through a hail of sling stones and arrows. Unencumbered by the
heavy armour and bulky weaponry of the phalangites, these men, formerly foes of
Macedon, were now highly sought-after in Hellenistic armies, and for good
reason. Not only were they masters of close combat, charging home with
frightening speed and force, but they had time and again proven their
usefulness, versatility and dependability on the battlefield. Now it was their
discipline and resolve that was being tested to the limit, as they sprinted toward
the daunting Seleukid line.
Whipping around the enemy flank, Echekrates suddenly wheeled
his troopers hard to the left, slamming them into the flank and rear of the
confused enemy. Just as the Thessalian officer’s cavalry crashed into the
scrambling Seleukid horsemen, the Greek mercenaries surged forward in a
powerful charge against the lightly-armed Arabs. These soldiers, though
admirably suited for skirmishing and ranged warfare, were not equipped or
trained to fight hand-to-hand in the frontline against battle-hardened
mercenaries. Inevitably, as the men in front began to fall at an intolerable
pace, those to the rear wavered and eventually took to their heels by the
hundreds. While this was going on, a cacophony of screaming and shouting
erupted off to the right. There the Gallic and Thracian troops, enraged by the
damaging missile fire they were taking as they neared the Seleukid line, raised
their war cry in deafening unison and flung themselves into the enemy archers
and slingers with suicidal abandon. Though some of the missile troops attempted
to fend off their attackers, untold numbers of them fell at the first shock as
the fierce Gauls and Thracians hacked into their ranks. With this shattering
blow, the entire Seleukid left wing broke and fled, pursued hotly by the
Ptolemaic troops, especially Echekrates, who drove his cavalry through their
broken ranks, cutting down hundreds.
While the battle still raged on both wings, the great
Seleukid and Ptolemaic phalanxes sat stationary in the centre, watching
uneasily as the struggle on their flanks unfolded. Inexperience and the
rashness of youth had robbed these men of their leaders, who were now too
preoccupied to issue the orders for them to engage. With Antiochos fading into
a cloud of dust on the rear horizon, Ptolemy lost in the chaotic pursuit and
both sides winning and losing on the wings, the officers of both phalanxes were
unsure of what course to take. Just at this moment, however, with the majority
of his left retreating in disorder and his right driving Antiochos’ left wing
before it, Ptolemy reappeared at the front of his phalanx to the ecstatic
cheers of the men. Though many had given him up for dead, Ptolemy managed to
escape the collapse of his left wing with a handful of bodyguards and race back
to the safety of his phalanx just in time to see the success of his right.
Knowing he had to seize his chance before it slipped away, the pharaoh rode out
in front of the men where his miraculous reappearance thrilled and
reinvigorated his centre and further disheartened the enemy, who now looked
vainly for the return of Antiochos. Without a moment to lose, Ptolemy ordered
forward his emboldened centre, which lurched ahead, eager to crush its
adversaries.
As the two massive phalanxes locked together, a fierce
struggle developed all along the line in which, to the surprise of many, not
the least of whom was Ptolemy, the Egyptian phalangites more than held their
own against Antiochos’ klerouchoi phalanx. Having been previously shorn of its
flank protection and now threatened with the looming prospect of an attack on
its exposed side, the morale of Antiochos’ military settlers plummeted. With
Ptolemy’s Greek mercenaries, Gauls and Thracians moving to the attack, it
should come as no surprise that the phalangites decided to flee from the pikes
of the Egyptians rather than suffer the slaughter that would surely occur if
they remained. Sadly for them, the spectre of dreadful slaughter appeared
regardless, for as panic spread down the Seleukid line and collapse followed
shortly behind, Echekrates and his cavalry thundered back onto the scene to aid
in the ghastly pursuit.
At the other end of the field, on the seaward flank of the
Seleukid army, panic eventually spread to the Silver Shields, who had fought
Ptolemy’s best phalanx soldiers to a standstill. Abandoned by their comrades,
the Silver Shields had no choice but to withdraw While the retreat was carried
out with discipline and order in some places, in others it had already devolved
into a mad dash for safety in which thousands were trampled or ridden down by
the enemy.
Having left his army to fend for itself, Antiochos, now far
to the rear, continued his pursuit of the exhausted Ptolemaic left, convinced
that the death of Ptolemy would deliver Egypt into his hands. Foolishly
rejecting all calls for him to turn back, it was only when one of his senior
officers drew the impetuous king’s attention to the great clouds of dust rising
from the distant battlefield that he realized his terrible mistake. Squinting into
the distance, Antiochos could make out dense plumes of dust rising thickly from
the field and leading toward the Seleukid camp. Though he knew well enough that
the rest of his army had already been defeated, an enraged Antiochos
nevertheless turned his winded royal squadron back toward the struggle. By the
time he reached the battlefield, however, nothing remained but the mangled
bodies of men, horses and elephants lying where they fell or dying where they
lay. With his forces now retreating off the field beyond recall, Antiochos
admitted defeat and sent word for his remaining soldiers to retire to Raphia.
There the king sullenly brooded on the idea that although he had been
victorious, the cowardice of his men secured his defeat.
Aftermath
It should come as no surprise that two young and
inexperienced kings were able to mismanage the handling of one of the largest
battles of antiquity. Handicapped by the uncertainty with which he viewed his
men, Ptolemy was from the start hesitant to seize the advantage which his
numerical superiority offered him. As it turned out, the resource which he felt
no hesitance in employing, his African war elephants, proved to be not only
completely ineffectual, but also dangerous to his own men.
On the other hand Antiochos, outnumbered by his more
powerful foe, may have subscribed too literally to Alexander’s hell-for-leather
principles of warfare. After all, Alexander was fighting mere Persians while
the young Seleukid king had a fellow Macedonian phalanx with which to contend. Thanks
to his overly-aggressive tactics and virtually non-existent contingency plan
for the rest of his men, a resounding success for Antiochos early on was later
transformed into the main cause of his abysmal defeat.
In all, Antiochos lost some 10,000 infantry and more than
300 cavalry, with 4,000 captured. Three of his elephants are said to have died
in the battle and two more from their wounds afterwards. As was often the case
in ancient warfare, Ptolemy escaped with the relatively light losses of only 1,500
infantry, 700 cavalry and 16 elephants. Though Polybios mistakenly states that
the rest of the pharaoh’s beasts were captured, such an outcome makes no sense
and is contradicted by a contemporary inscription which reveals that it was
Antiochos’ elephants that were captured.
Retreating northward, Antiochos decided to temporarily
forsake Koile Syria in order to focus his attention on regaining Asia Minor
from his rebellious general Achaios. According to the terms of a treaty signed
with Ptolemy, Antiochos evacuated all his conquests in Syria except for
Seleukia. Despite this momentary pause, Antiochos still considered Syria an
occupied part of the Seleukid Empire and would again roll the dice of war to
try to achieve its conquest. While the kings of Alexander’s former realm
squabbled in the east, a new power was rising in the west that would soon burst
forth to challenge the great Macedonians not for foreign conquests or Persian
gold, but for their very survival.
