Ghost on the Throne - James S. Romm [137]
Before Eumenes had learned of this setback, another blow landed, even more devastating for his chances. As the elephants engaged and began to gore one another, and Antigonus’ massive cavalry wedge began a flanking maneuver, Eumenes saw Peucestas, stationed immediately to his right, leave the field with his fifteen hundred horsemen. This was either an act of cowardice or, more likely, a prearranged move to sabotage Eumenes’ efforts and end his life. Eumenes was now stranded, cut off from his own line with only a small corps of elite cavalry. Peucestas, always an unwilling subordinate, had gone his own way at last.
Peering through the whirling dust, Eumenes spotted the huge figure of Antigonus in the oncoming throng of cavalrymen. His chance for a masterstroke, a bold charge that would decapitate the enemy with one sword thrust, was at hand. Eumenes spurred his cavalry on toward Antigonus. But his numbers were too few to penetrate and give him a chance at single combat. The deed he desperately needed, the coup de grâce that would have made a Greek scribe into a second Alexander, was just out of reach. After watching his lead elephant fall, sensing his position was collapsing, Eumenes rode his troops out of the fray and around to the right wing, which had not yet come into contact with Antigonus’ left.
Meanwhile, the Silver Shields were moving forward in the center, wielding their eighteen-foot sarissas with customary resolve. They cut a deep swath into Antigonus’ ranks, quickly sending his infantry fleeing in a disordered mass. The resulting rout was total. Diodorus reports that the Shields inflicted five thousand fatalities without losing a man. Perhaps that is an exaggeration, but there is no doubt that here, in the last battle they were destined to fight together, the Shields proved their prowess once again. “Like athletes of war, without a defeat or a fall up to that time, many seventy years old and none less than sixty—the oldest of those who had served with Philip and Alexander,” Plutarch eulogizes them. Thanks to their victory in the center, the outcome of battle was once again hanging in the balance.
Eumenes sought to rally his cavalry and sent a message to Peucestas demanding he come back to the fight. Peucestas sullenly withdrew even farther, taking refuge by the banks of a nearby river. Meanwhile, Eumenes’ victorious infantry had come under attack by Antigonus’ horse, but had formed a hollow square with lances pointing outward, a sure defense for those who could hold to it unshakably. With consummate sangfroid they retreated to the safety of the river, where they began berating Peucestas for his desertion of the left wing. If not for that, it was clear, the battle would already be won and the army would be reclaiming its baggage—the loss of which had now been learned and was causing considerable anguish.
It was growing dark by the time Eumenes arrived at the river. Another in a long series of command conclaves was held, and as usual opinions were divided. Eumenes wanted to fight again the following day. His infantry was undamaged and totally victorious; his cavalry and elephants had held up well despite desertion by Peucestas. The coalition’s chances looked good, easily better than those of Antigonus. The satraps, however, wanted to retreat to home turf, the upper satrapies, and repair their losses.