Beyond the English Channel the course of the history of war is parallel to that which it took in the lands of the Continent, with a single exception in the form of its final development. Like the Franks, the Angles and Saxons were at the time of their conquest of Britain a nation of infantry soldiers, armed with the long ashen javelin, the broadsword, the seax or broad stabbing dagger, and occasionally the battle-axe21. Their defensive weapon was almost exclusively the shield, the ‘round war-board,’ with its large iron boss. Ring-mail, though known to them at a very early date, was, as all indications unite to show, extremely uncommon. The ‘grey war-sark’ or ‘ring-locked byrnie’ of Beowulf was obtainable by kings and princes alone. The helmet also, with its ‘iron-wrought boar-crest,’ was very restricted in its use. If the monarch and his gesiths wore such arms, the national levy, which formed the main fighting force of a heptarchic kingdom, was entirely without them.
Unmolested for many centuries in their island home, the English kept up the old Teutonic war customs for a longer period than other European nations. When Mercia and Wessex were at strife, the campaign was fought out by the hastily-raised hosts of the various districts, headed by their aldermen and reeves. Hence war bore the spasmodic and inconsequent character which resulted from the temporary nature of such armies. With so weak a military organization, there was no possibility of working out schemes of steady and progressive conquest. The frays of the various kingdoms, bitter and unceasing though they might be, led to no decisive results. If in the ninth century a tendency towards unification began to show itself in England, it was caused, not by the military superiority of Wessex, but by the dying out of royal lines and the unfortunate internal condition of the other states.
While this inclination towards union was developing itself, the whole island was subjected to the stress of the same storm of foreign invasion which was shaking the Frankish empire to its foundations. The Danes came down upon England, and demonstrated, by the fearful success of their raids, that the old Teutonic military system was inadequate to the needs of the day. The Vikings were in fact superior to the forces brought against them, alike in tactics, in armament, in training, and in mobility. Personally the Dane was the member of an old war-band contending with a farmer fresh from the plough, a veteran soldier pitted against a raw militiaman. As a professional warrior he had provided himself with an equipment which only the chiefs among the English army could rival, the mail ‘byrnie’ being a normal rather than an exceptional defence, and the steel cap almost universal. The ‘fyrd’ on the other hand, came out against him destitute of armour, and bearing a motley array of weapons, wherein the spear and sword were mixed with the club and the stone-axe22. If, however, the Danes had been in the habit of waiting for the local levies to come up with them, equal courage and superior numbers might have prevailed over these advantages of equipment. Plunder, however, rather than fighting, was the Vikings object: the host threw itself upon some district of the English coast, ‘was there a-horsed23,’ and then rode far and wide through the land, doing all the damage in its power. The possession of the horses they had seized gave them a power of rapid movement which the fyrd could not hope to equal: when the local levies arrived at the spot where the invaders had been last seen, it was only to find smoke and ruins, not an enemy. When driven to bay--as, in spite of their habitual retreats, was sometimes the case--the Danes showed an instinctive tactical ability by their use of entrenchments, with which the English were unaccustomed to deal. Behind a ditch and palisade, in some commanding spot, the invaders would wait for months, till the accumulated force of the fyrd had melted away to its homes.
Of assaults on their positions they knew no fear: the line of axemen could generally contrive to keep down the most impetuous charge of the English levies: Reading was a more typical field than Ethandun. For one successful storm of an intrenched camp there were two bloody repulses.
Thirty years of disasters sealed the fate of the old national military organization: something more than the fyrd was necessary to meet the organized war-bands of the Danes. The social results of the invasion in England had been similar to those which we have observed in the Frankish empire. Everywhere the free ‘ceorls’ had been ‘commending’ themselves to the neighbouring landowners. By accepting this ‘commendation’ the thegnhood had rendered itself responsible for the defence of the country. The kingly power was in stronger hands in England than across the Channel, so that the new system did not at once develope itself into feudalism. Able to utilise, instead of bound to fear, the results of the change, Alfred and Eadward determined to use it as the basis for a new military organization. Accordingly all holders of five hides of land were subjected to ‘Thegn-service,’ and formed a permanent basis for the national army. To supplement the force thus obtained, the fyrd was divided into two halves, one of which was always to be available. These arrangements had the happiest results: the tide of war turned, and England reasserted itself, till the tenth century saw the culmination of her new strength at the great battle of Brunanburh. The thegn, a soldier by position like the Frankish noble, has now become the leading figure in war: arrayed in mail shirt and steel cap, and armed with sword and long pointed shield, the ‘bands of chosen ones’ were ready to face and hew down the Danish axemen. It is, however, worth remembering that the military problem of the day had now been much simplified for the English by the settlement of the invaders within the Danelaw. An enemy who has towns to be burnt and homesteads to be harried can have pressure put upon him which cannot be brought to bear on a marauder whose basis of operations is the sea. It is noteworthy that Eadward utilised against the Danes that same system of fortified positions which they had employed against his predecessors; the stockades of his new burghs served to hold in check the ‘heres’ of the local jarls of the Five Towns, while the king with his main force was busied in other quarters.
A century later than the military reforms of Alfred the feudal danger which had split up the Frankish realm began to make itself felt in England. The great ealdormen of the reign of Ethelred correspond to the counts of the time of Charles the Fat, in their tendency to pass from the position of officials into that of petty princes. Their rise is marked by the decay of the central military organization for war; and during the new series of Danish invasions the forces of each ealdormanry are seen to fight and fall without any support from their neighbours. England was in all probability only saved from the fate of France by the accession of Canute. That monarch, besides reducing the provincial governors to their old position of delegates of the crown, strengthened his position by the institution of the House-Carles, a force sufficiently numerous to be called a small standing army rather than a mere royal guard.
These troops are not only the most characteristic token of the existence of a powerful central government, but represent the maximum of military efficiency to be found in the Anglo-Danish world. Their tactics and weapons differed entirely from those of the feudal aristocracy of the continent, against whom they were ere long to be pitted. They bore the long Danish battle-axe, a shaft five feet long fitted with a single-bladed head of enormous size. It was far too ponderous for use on horseback, and being wielded with both arms precluded the use of a shield in hand to hand combat24. The blows delivered by this weapon were tremendous: no shield or mail could resist them; they were even capable, as was shown at Hastings, of lopping off a horse’s head at a single stroke. The house-carle in his defensive equipment did not differ from the cavalry of the lands beyond the Channel: like them he wore a mail shirt of a considerable length, reaching down to the lower thigh, and a pointed steel cap fitted with a nasal.
The tactics of the English axemen were those of the column: arranged in a compact mass they could beat off almost any attack, and hew their way through every obstacle. Their personal strength and steadiness, their confidence and esprit de corps, made them the most dangerous adversaries. Their array, however, was vitiated by the two defects of slowness of movement and vulnerability by missiles. If assailed by horsemen, they were obliged to halt and remain fixed to the spot, in order to keep off the enemy by their close order. If attacked from a distance by light troops, they were also at a disadvantage, as unable to reach men who retired before them.
The battle of Hastings, the first great mediæval fight of which we have an account clear enough to give us an insight into the causes of its result, was the final trial of this form of military efficiency. Backed by the disorderly masses of the fyrd, and by the thegns of the home counties, the house-carles of King Harold stood in arms to defend the entrenchments of Senlac. Formidable as was the English array, it was opposed precisely by those arms which, in the hands of an able general, were competent to master it. The Norman knights, if unsupported by their light infantry, might have surged for ever around the impregnable palisades. The archers, if unsupported by the knights, could easily have been driven off the field by a general charge. United, however, by the skilful tactics of William, the two divisions of the invading army won the day. The Saxon mass was subjected to exactly the same trial which befell the British squares in the battle of Waterloo25: incessant charges by a gallant cavalry were alternated with a destructive fire of missiles. Nothing can be more maddening than such an ordeal to the infantry soldier, rooted to the spot by the necessities of his formation. After repelling charge after charge with the greatest steadiness, the axemen could no longer bear the rain of arrows. When at last the horsemen drew back in apparent disorder, a great part of Harold’s troops stormed down into the valley after them, determined to finish the battle by an advance which should not allow the enemy time to rally. This mistake was fatal: the Norman retreat had been the result of the Duke’s orders, not of a wish to leave the field. The cavalry turned, rode down the scattered mass which had pursued them, and broke into the gap in the English line which had been made by the inconsiderate charge. Desperate as was their position, the English still held out: the arrows fell thickly among them, the knights were forcing their way among the disordered ranks of the broken army, but for three hours longer the fight went on. This exhibition of courage only served to increase the number of the slain: the day was hopelessly lost, and, as evening fell, the few survivors of the English army were glad to be able to make their retreat under cover of the darkness. The tactics of the phalanx of axemen had been decisively beaten by William’s combination of archers and cavalry.
Once more only--on a field far away from its native land--did the weapon of the Anglo-Danes dispute the victory with the lance and bow. Fifteen years after Harold’s defeat another body of English axemen--some of them may well have fought at Senlac--were advancing against the army of a Norman prince. They were the Varangian guard--the famous Πελεκυφóροι {Pelekuphóroi}--of the Emperor Alexius Comnenus26. That prince was engaged in an attempt to raise the siege of Dyrrhachium, then invested by Robert Guiscard. The Norman army was already drawn up in front of its lines, while the troops of Alexius were only slowly arriving on the field. Among the foremost of his corps were the Varangians, whom his care had provided with horses, in order that they might get to the front quickly and execute a turning movement. This they accomplished; but when they approached the enemy they were carried away by their eagerness to begin the fray. Without waiting for the main attack of the Greek army to be developed, the axemen sent their horses to the rear, and advanced in a solid column against the Norman flank. Rushing upon the division commanded by Count Amaury of Bari, they drove it, horse and foot, into the sea. Their success, however, had disordered their ranks, and the Norman prince was enabled, since Alexius’ main body was still far distant, to turn all his forces against them. A vigorous cavalry charge cut off the greater part of the English; the remainder collected on a little mound by the sea-shore, surmounted by a deserted chapel. Here they were surrounded by the Normans, and a scene much like Senlac, but on a smaller scale, was enacted. After the horsemen and the archers had destroyed the majority of the Varangians, the remainder held out obstinately within the chapel. Sending for fascines and timber from his camp, Robert heaped them round the building and set fire to the mass27. The English sallied out to be slain one by one, or perished in the flames: not a man escaped; the whole corps suffered destruction, as a consequence of their misplaced eagerness to open the fight. Such was the fate of the last attempt made by infantry to face the feudal array of the eleventh century. No similar experiment was now to be made for more than two hundred years: the supremacy of cavalry was finally established.
[From the accession of Maurice to the battle of Manzikert.]
Alike in composition and in organization, the army which for 500 years held back Slav and Saracen from the frontier of the Eastern Empire, differed from the troops whose name and traditions it inherited. To the ‘Palatine’ and ‘Limitary’ ‘numeri’ of Constantine it bore as little likeness as to the legions of Trajan. Yet in one respect at least it resembled both those forces: it was in its day the most efficient military body in the world. The men of the lower Empire have received scant justice at the hands of modern historians: their manifest faults have thrown the stronger points of their character into the shade, and Byzantinism is accepted as a synonym for effete incapacity alike in peace and war. Much might be written in general vindication of their age, but never is it easier to produce a strong defence than when their military skill and prowess are disparaged.
‘The vices of Byzantine armies,’ says Gibbon29, ‘were inherent, their victories accidental.’ So far is this sweeping condemnation from the truth, that it would be far more correct to call their defeats accidental, their successes, normal. Bad generalship, insufficient numbers, unforeseen calamities, not the inefficiency of the troops, were the usual causes of disaster in the campaigns of the Eastern Emperors. To the excellence of the soldiery witness, direct or indirect, is borne in every one of those military treatises which give us such a vivid picture of the warfare of the age. Unless the general is incompetent or the surrounding circumstances unusually adverse, the authors always assume that victory will follow the banner of the Empire. The troops can be trusted, like Wellington’s Peninsular veterans, ‘to go anywhere and do anything.’ ‘The commander,’ says Nicephorus Phocas30, ‘who has 6000 of our heavy cavalry and God’s help, needs nothing more.’ In a similar spirit Leo the Philosopher declares in his Tactica that, except the Frankish and Lombard knights, there were no horsemen in the world who could face the Byzantine ‘Cataphracti,’ when the numbers of the combatants approached equality. Slav, Turk, or Saracen could be ridden down by a charge fairly pressed home: only with the men of the West was the result of the shock doubtful. The causes of the excellence and efficiency of the Byzantine army are not hard to discover. In courage they were equal to their enemies; in discipline, organization, and armament far superior. Above all, they possessed not only the traditions of Roman strategy, but a complete system of tactics, carefully elaborated to suit the requirements of the age.
For centuries war was studied as an art in the East, while in the West it remained merely a matter of hard fighting. The young Frankish noble deemed his military education complete when he could sit his charger firmly, and handle lance and shield with skill. The Byzantine patrician, while no less exercised in arms31, added theory to empiric knowledge by the study of the works of Maurice, of Leo, of Nicephorus Phocas, and of other authors whose books survive in name alone. The results of the opposite views taken by the two divisions of Europe are what might have been expected. The men of the West, though they regarded war as the most important occupation of life, invariably found themselves at a loss when opposed by an enemy with whose tactics they were not acquainted. The generals of the East, on the other hand, made it their boast that they knew how to face and conquer Slav or Turk, Frank or Saracen, by employing in each case the tactical means best adapted to meet their opponents’ method of warfare.
The directions for the various emergencies given by the Emperor Leo impress us alike as showing the diversity of the tasks set before the Byzantine general, and the practical manner in which they were taken in hand. They serve indeed as a key to the whole system of the art of war as it was understood at Constantinople.
‘The Frank,’ says Leo32, ‘believes that a retreat under any circumstances must be dishonourable; hence he will fight whenever you choose to offer him battle. This you must not do till you have secured all possible advantages for yourself, as his cavalry, with their long lances and large shields, charge with a tremendous impetus. You should deal with him by protracting the campaign, and if possible lead him into the hills, where his cavalry are less efficient than in the plain. After a few weeks without a great battle his troops, who are very susceptible to fatigue and weariness, will grow tired of the war, and ride home in great numbers.... You will find him utterly careless as to outposts and reconnaisances, so that you can easily cut off outlying parties of his men, and attack his camp at advantage. As his forces have no bonds of discipline, but only those of kindred or oath, they fall into confusion after delivering their charge; you can therefore simulate flight, and then turn them, when you will find them in utter disarray. On the whole, however, it is easier and less costly to wear out a Frankish army by skirmishes and protracted operations rather than to attempt to destroy it at a single blow.’
The chapters of which these directions are an abstract have two distinct points of interest. They present us with a picture of a Western army of the ninth or tenth century, the exact period of the development of feudal cavalry, drawn by the critical hand of an enemy. They also show the characteristic strength and weakness of Byzantine military science. On the one hand, we note that Leo’s precepts are practical and efficacious; on the other, we see that they are based upon the supposition that the imperial troops will normally act upon the defensive, a limitation which must materially lessen their efficiency. These, however, were the tactics by which the Eastern Emperors succeeded in maintaining their Italian ‘Themes’ for 400 years, against every attack of Lombard duke or Frankish emperor.
The method which is recommended by Leo for resisting the ‘Turks’ (by which name he denotes the Magyars and the tribes dwelling north of the Euxine) is different in every respect from that directed against the nations of the West. The Turkish army consisted of innumerable bands of light horsemen, who carried javelin and scimitar, but relied on their arrows for victory. Their tactics were in fact a repetition of those of Attila, a foreshadowing of those of Alp Arslan or Batu Khan. The Turks were ‘given to ambushes and stratagems of every sort,’ and were noted for the care with which they posted their vedettes, so that they could seldom or never be attacked by surprise. On a fair open field, however, they could be ridden down by the Byzantine heavy cavalry, who are therefore recommended to close with them at once, and not to exchange arrows with them at a distance. Steady infantry they could not break, and indeed they were averse to attacking it, since the bows of the Byzantine foot-archers carried farther than their own shorter weapon, and they were thus liable to have their horses shot before coming within their own limit of efficacious range. Their armour protected their own bodies, but not those of their chargers; and they might thus find themselves dismounted, in which position they were absolutely helpless, the nomad of the steppes having never been accustomed to fight on foot. With the Turks, therefore, a pitched battle was desirable; but as they were prompt at rallying, it was always necessary to pursue them with caution, and not to allow the troops to get out of hand during the chase.’
It is at once apparent from these directions how utterly the efficiency of the Byzantine infantry differed from that of the legions of an earlier day. The soldiers of the first century, armed with sword and pilum alone, were destroyed from a distance by the Parthian mounted bowmen. The adoption of the bow by infantry had now changed the aspect of affairs, and it was the horse-archer who now found himself at a disadvantage in the exchange of missiles. Nor could he hope to retrieve the day by charging, since the ‘scutati33,’ or spearmen carrying the large shield, who formed the front rank of a Byzantine ‘tagma,’ could keep at bay horsemen armed, not with the heavy lance of the West, but merely with scimitars and short javelins. Hence the Turk avoided conflicts with the imperial infantry, and used his superior powers of locomotion to keep out of its way. It was only the cavalry which could, as a rule, come up with him.
The tactics calculated for success against the Slavs call for little notice. The Servians and the Slovenes possessed hardly any cavalry, and were chiefly formidable to the imperial troops when they kept to the mountains, where their archers and javelin-men, posted in inaccessible positions, could annoy the invader from a distance, or the spearmen could make sudden assaults on the flank of his marching columns. Such attacks could be frustrated by proper vigilance, while, if the Slavs were only surprised while engaged in their plundering expeditions into the plains, they could be ridden down and cut to pieces by the imperial cavalry.
To deal with the Saracen34, on the other hand, the greatest care and skill were required. ‘Of all barbarous nations,’ says Leo35, ‘they are the best advised and the most prudent in their military operations.’ The commander who has to meet with them will need all his tactical and strategical ability, the troops must be well disciplined and confident, if the ‘barbarous and blaspheming Saracen36’ is to be driven back in rout through the ‘Klissuras’ of Taurus.
The Arabs whom Khaled and Amrou had led in the seventh century to the conquest of Syria and Egypt, had owed their victory neither to the superiority of their arms nor to the excellence of their organization. The fanatical courage of the fatalist had enabled them--as it has enabled their co-religionists in the present spring--to face better armed and better disciplined troops. Settled in their new homes, however, when the first outburst of their vigour had passed away, they did not disdain to learn a lesson from the nations they had defeated. Accordingly the Byzantine army served as a model for the forces of the Khalifs; ‘they have copied the Romans in most of their military practices,’ says Leo37, both in arms and in strategy. Like the imperial generals, they placed their confidence in their mailed lancers; but the Saracen and his charger were alike at a disadvantage in the onset. Horse for horse and man for man, the Byzantines were heavier, and could ride the Orientals down when the final shock came.
Two things alone rendered the Saracens the most dangerous of foes, their numbers and their extraordinary powers of locomotion. When an inroad into Asia Minor was projected, the powers of greed and fanaticism united to draw together every unquiet spirit between Khorassan and Egypt. The wild horsemen of the East poured out in myriads from the gates of Tarsus and Adana, to harry the fertile uplands of the Anatolic Themes. ‘They are no regular troops, but a mixed multitude of volunteers: the rich man serves from pride of race, the poor man from hope of plunder. Many of them go forth because they believe that God delights in war, and has promised victory to them. Those who stay at home, both men and women, aid in arming their poorer neighbours, and think that they are performing a good work thereby. Thus there is no homogeneity in their armies, since experienced warriors and untrained plunderers march side by side38.’ Once clear of the passes of Taurus, the great horde of Saracen horsemen cut itself loose from its communications, and rode far and wide through Phrygia and Cappadocia, burning the open towns, harrying the country side, and lading their beasts of burden with the plunder of a region which was in those days one of the richest in the world.
Now was the time for the Byzantine general to show his metal: first he had to come up with his enemies, and then to fight them. The former task was no easy matter, as the Saracen in the first days of his inroad could cover an incredible distance. It was not till he had loaded and clogged himself with plunder that he was usually to be caught.
When the news of the raid reached the general of the ‘Anatolic’ or ‘Armeniac’ theme, he had at once to collect every efficient horseman in his province, and strike at the enemy. Untrained men and weak horses were left behind, and the infantry could not hope to keep up with the rapid movements which had now to be undertaken. Accordingly, Leo would send all the disposable foot to occupy the ‘Klissuras’ of the Taurus, where, even if the cavalry did not catch the invader, his retreat might be delayed and harassed in passes where he could not fight to advantage.
In his cavalry, however, lay the Byzantine commander’s hope of success. To ascertain the enemy’s position he must spare no trouble: ‘never turn away freeman or slave, by day or night, though you may be sleeping or eating or bathing,’ writes Nicephorus Phocas, ‘if he says that he has news for you.’ When once the Saracen’s track had been discovered, he was to be pursued without ceasing, and his force and objects discovered. If all Syria and Mesopotamia had come out for an invasion rather than a mere foray, the general must resign himself to taking the defensive, and only hang on the enemy’s flanks, cutting off his stragglers and preventing any plundering by detached parties. No fighting must be taken in hand till ‘all the Themes of the East have been set marching;’ an order which would put some 25,000 or 30,000 heavy cavalry39 at the disposal of the commander-in-chief, but would cost the loss of much precious time. These Saracen ‘Warden-raids’ (if we may borrow an expression from the similar expeditions of our own Borderers) were of comparatively unfrequent occurrence: it was seldom that the whole Byzantine force in Asia was drawn out to face the enemy in a great battle. The more typical Saracen inroad was made by the inhabitants of Cilicia and Northern Syria, with the assistance of casual adventurers from the inner Mohammedan lands.
To meet them the Byzantine commander would probably have no more than the 4000 heavy cavalry of his own Theme in hand; a force for whose handling Leo gives minute tactical directions40. When he had come up with the raiders they would turn and offer him battle: nor was their onset to be despised. Though unequal, man for man, to their adversaries, they were usually in superior numbers, and always came on with great confidence. ‘They are very bold at first with expectation of victory; nor will they turn at once, even if their line is broken through by our impact41.’ When they suppose that their enemy’s vigour is relaxing, they all charge together with a desperate effort42. If, however, this failed, a rout generally ensued, ‘for they think that all misfortune is sent by God, and so, if they are once beaten, they take their defeat as a sign of divine wrath, and no longer attempt to defend themselves43.’ Hence the Mussulman army, when once it turned to fly, could be pursued à l’outrance, and the old military maxim, ‘Vince sed ne nimis vincas,’ was a caution which the Byzantine officer could disregard.
The secret of success in an engagement with the Saracens lay in the cavalry tactics, which had for three centuries been in process of elaboration. By the tenth century they attained their perfection, and the experienced soldier Nicephorus Phocas vouches for their efficacy. Their distinguishing feature was that the troops were always placed in two lines and a reserve, with squadrons detached on the flanks to prevent their being turned. The enemy came on in one very deep line, and could never stand the three successive shocks as the first line, second line, and reserve were one after another flung into the mêlée against them. The Byzantines had already discovered the great precept which modern military science has claimed as its own, that, ‘in a cavalry combat, the side which holds back the last reserve must win44.’ The exact formation used on these occasions, being carefully described by our authorities, is worth detailing, and will be found in our section treating of the organization of the Byzantine army.
There were several other methods of dealing with the Saracen invader. It was sometimes advisable, when his inroad was made in great force, to hang about the rear of the retreating plunderers, and only fall upon them when they were engaged in passing the ‘Klissuras’ of the Taurus. If infantry was already on the spot to aid the pursuing cavalry, success was almost certain, when the Saracens and their train of beasts, laden with spoil, were wedged in the passes. They could then be shot down by the archers, and would not stand for a moment when they saw their horses, ‘the “Pharii,” whom they esteem above all other things45,’ struck by arrows from a distance; for the Saracen, when not actually engaged in close combat, would do anything to save his horse from harm.
Cold and rainy weather was also distasteful to the Oriental invader: at times, when it prevailed, he did not display his ordinary firmness and daring, and could be attacked at great advantage. Much could also be done by delivering a vigorous raid into his country, and wasting Cilicia and Northern Syria, the moment his armies were reported to have passed north into Cappadocia. This destructive practice was very frequently adopted, and the sight of two enemies each ravaging the other’s territory without attempting to defend his own, was only too familiar to the inhabitants of the borderlands of Christendom and Islam. Incursions by sea supplemented the forays by land. ‘When the Saracens of Cilicia have gone off by the passes, to harry the country north of Taurus,’ says Leo, ‘the commander of the Cibyrrhœot Theme should immediately go on shipboard with all available forces, and ravage their coast. If, on the other hand, they have sailed off to attempt the shore districts of Pisidia, the Klissurarchs of Taurus can lay waste the territories of Tarsus and Adana without danger.’
Nothing can show more clearly than these directions the high average skill of the Byzantine officer. Leo himself was not a man of any great ability, and his ‘Tactica’ are intended to codify an existing military art, rather than to construct a new one. Yet still the book is one whose equal could not have been written in Western Europe before the sixteenth century. One of its most striking points is the utter difference of its tone from that of contemporary feeling in the rest of Christendom. Of chivalry there is not a spark in the Byzantine, though professional pride is abundantly shown. Courage is regarded as one of the requisites necessary for obtaining success, not as the sole and paramount virtue of the warrior. Leo considers a campaign successfully concluded without a great battle as the cheapest and most satisfactory consummation in war. He has no respect for the warlike ardour which makes men eager to plunge into the fray: it is to him rather a characteristic of the brainless barbarian, and an attribute fatal to any one who makes any pretension to generalship. He shows a strong predilection for stratagems, ambushes, and simulated retreats. For an officer who fights without having first secured all the advantages to his own side, he has the greatest contempt. It is with a kind of intellectual pride that he gives instructions how parlementaires are to be sent to the enemy without any real object except that of spying out the number and efficiency of his forces. He gives, as a piece of most ordinary and moral advice, the hint that a defeated general may often find time to execute a retreat by sending an emissary to propose a surrender (which he has no intention of carrying out) to the hostile commander46. He is not above employing the old-world trick of addressing treasonable letters to the subordinate officers of the enemy’s army, and contriving that they should fall into the hands of the commander-in-chief, in order that he may be made suspicious of his lieutenants. Schemes such as these are ‘Byzantine’ in the worst sense of the word, but their character must not be allowed to blind us to the real and extraordinary merits of the strategical system into which they have been inserted. The ‘Art of War,’ as understood at Constantinople in the tenth century, was the only scheme of true scientific merit existing in the world, and was unrivalled till the sixteenth century.
The Byzantine army may be said to owe its peculiar form to the Emperor Maurice, a prince whose reign is one of the chief landmarks in the history of the lower empire47. The fortunate preservation of his ‘Stratêgikon’ suffices to show us that the reorganization of the troops of the East was mainly due to him. Contemporary historians also mention his reforms, but without descending to details, and inform us that, though destined to endure, they won him much unpopularity among the soldiery. Later writers, however, have erroneously attributed these changes to the more celebrated warrior Heraclius48, the prince who bore the Roman standards further than any of his predecessors into the lands of the East. In reality, the army of Heraclius had already been reorganized by the worthy but unfortunate Maurice.
The most important of Maurice’s alterations was the elimination of that system somewhat resembling the Teutonic ‘comitatus,’ which had crept from among the Foederati into the ranks of the regular Roman army. The loyalty of the soldier was secured rather to the emperor than to his immediate superiors, by making the appointment of all officers above the rank of centurion a care of the central government. The commander of an army or division had thus no longer in his hands the power and patronage which had given him the opportunity of becoming dangerous to the state. The men found themselves under the orders of delegates of the emperor, not of quasi-independent authorities who enlisted them as personal followers rather than as units in the military establishment of the empire.
This reform Maurice succeeded in carrying out, to the great benefit of the discipline and loyalty of his army. He next took in hand the reducing of the whole force of the empire to a single form of organization. The rapid decrease of the revenues of the state, which had set in towards the end of Justinian’s reign, and continued to make itself more and more felt, had apparently resulted in a great diminution in the number of foreign mercenaries serving in the Roman army. To the same end contributed the fact that of the Lombards, Herules, and Gepidæ, the nations who had furnished the majority of the imperial Foederati, one race had removed to other seats, while the others had been exterminated. At last the number of the foreign corps had sunk to such a low ebb, that there was no military danger incurred in assimilating their organization to that of the rest of the army.
The new system introduced by Maurice was destined to last for nearly five hundred years. Its unit, alike for infantry and cavalry, was the βάνδον {bandon}49--a weak battalion or horse-regiment of 400 men, commanded by an officer who usually bore the vulgarized title of ‘comes50,’ but was occasionally denominated by the older name of τριβῶνος {tribônos}, or military tribune. Three ‘bands’ (or τάγματα {tagmata} as they were sometimes styled) formed a small brigade, called indifferently μοῖρα {moira}, χιλιαρχία {chiliarchia}, or δροῦγγος {droungos}51. Three ‘drunges’ formed the largest military group recognised by Maurice, and the division made by their union was the ‘turma’ or μέρος {meros}. Nothing can be more characteristic of the whole Byzantine military system than the curious juxtaposition of Latin, Greek, and German words in its terminology. Upon the substratum of the old Roman survivals we find first a layer of Teutonic names introduced by the ‘Foederati’ of the fourth and fifth centuries, and finally numerous Greek denominations, some of them borrowed from the old Macedonian military system, others newly invented. The whole official language of the Empire was in fact still in a state of flux; Maurice himself was hailed by his subjects as ‘Pius, Felix, Augustus52,’ though those who used the title were, for the most part, accustomed to speak in Greek. In the ‘Stratêgikon’ the two tongues are inextricably mixed: ‘before the battle,’ says the emperor, ‘let the counts face their bands and raise the war-cry “Δεοῦς Νοβισκοῦμ {Deous Nobiskoum}” (Deus nobiscum), and the troopers will shout the answering cry “Κύριε, Ἐλέησον {Kyrie, Eleêson}.”’
It would appear that Maurice had intended to break down the barrier, which had been interposed in the fourth century, between the class which paid the taxes and that which recruited the national army. ‘We wish,’ he writes, ‘that every young Roman of free condition should learn the use of the bow, and should be constantly provided with that weapon and with two javelins.’ If, however, this was intended to be the first step towards the introduction of universal military service, the design was never carried any further. Three hundred years later Leo is found echoing the same words, as a pious wish rather than as a practical expedient. The rank and file, however, of the imperial forces were now raised almost entirely within the realm, and well nigh every nation contained in its limits, except the Greeks, furnished a considerable number of soldiers. The Armenians and Isaurians in Asia, the ‘Thracians’ and ‘Macedonians’--or more properly the semi-Romanized Slavs--in Europe, were considered the best material by the recruiting officer.
The extraordinary permanence of all Byzantine institutions is illustrated by the fact that Maurice’s arrangements were found almost unchanged three hundred years after his death. The chapters of Leo’s ‘Tactica’ which deal with the armament and organization of the troops are little more than a reëdition of the similar parts of his predecessor’s ‘Stratêgikon.’ The description of the heavy and light horseman, and of the infantry soldier, are identical in the two works, except in a few points of terminology.
The καβαλλάριος {kaballarios}, or heavy trooper, wore at both epochs a steel cap surmounted by a small crest, and a long mail shirt, reaching from the neck to the thighs. He was also protected by gauntlets and steel-shoes, and usually wore a light surcoat over his mail. The horses of the officers, and of the men in the front rank, were furnished with steel frontlets and poitrails. The arms of the soldier were a broad-sword (σπάθιον {spathion}), a dagger (παραμήριον {paramêrion}), a horseman’s bow and quiver, and a long lance (κοντάριον {kontarion}), fitted with a thong towards its butt, and ornamented with a little bannerole. The colour of bannerole, crest, and surcoat was that of the regimental standard, and no two ‘bands’ in the same ‘turma’ had standards of the same hue. Thus the line presented an uniform and orderly appearance, every band displaying its own regimental facings. Strapped to his saddle each horseman carried a long cloak, which he assumed in cold and rainy weather, or when, for purposes of concealment, he wished to avoid displaying the glitter of his armour53.
The light trooper had less complete equipment, sometimes a cuirass of mail or horn, at others only a light mail cape covering the neck and shoulders. He carried a large shield, a defence which the heavy horseman could not adopt, on account of his requiring both hands to draw his bow. For arms the light cavalry carried lance and sword.
The infantry, which was much inferior to the horsemen in importance, was, like them, divided into two descriptions, heavy and light. The ‘scutati’ (σκουτάτοι {skoutátoi}), or troops of the former class, wore a steel helmet with a crest, and a short mail shirt; they carried a large oblong shield (θύρις {thyris}), which, like their crests, was of the same colour as the regimental banner. Their chief weapon was a short but heavy battle-axe (τζικούριον {tzikourion} = securis) with a blade in front and a spike behind: they were also provided with a dagger. The light infantry (ψιλοί {psiloi}) wore no defensive armour; they were provided with a powerful bow, which carried much further than the horseman’s weapon, and was therefore very formidable to hostile horse-archers. A few corps, drawn from provinces where the bow was not well known, carried instead two or three javelins (ῥιπτάρια {rhiptaria}). For hand to hand fighting the psiloi were provided with an axe similar to that of the scutati, and a very small round target, which hung at their waists54.
An extensive train of non-combatants was attached to the army. Among the cavalry every four troopers had a groom; among the infantry every sixteen men were provided with an attendant, who drove a cart containing ‘a hand-mill, a bill-hook, a saw, two spades, a mallet, a large wicker basket, a scythe, and two pick-axes55,’ besides several other utensils for whose identity the dictionary gives no clue56. Thus twenty spades and twenty pick-axes per ‘century57’ were always forthcoming for entrenching purposes; a consummation for which the modern infantry company would be glad if it could find a parallel. So perfect was the organization of the Byzantine army that it contained not only a ‘military train,’ but even an ambulance-corps of bearers (σκριβῶνοι {skribônoi}) and surgeons. The value attached to the lives of the soldiery is shown by the fact that the ‘scriboni’ received a ‘nomisma58’ for every wounded man whom they brought off when the troops were retiring. Special officers were told to superintend the march of this mass of non-combatants and vehicles, which is collectively styled ‘tuldum’ (τοῦλδον {touldon}), and forms not the least part among the cares of the laborious author of the ‘Tactica.’
Those portions of the works of Maurice and Leo which deal with tactics show a far greater difference between the methods of the sixth and the ninth centuries, than is observable in other parts of their military systems. The chapters of Leo are, as is but natural, of a more interesting character than those of his predecessor. The more important of his ordinances are well worthy our attention.
It is first observable that the old Roman system of drawing entrenchments round the army, every time that it rested for the night, had been resumed. A corps of engineers (Μένσορες {Mensores} (sic)) always marched with the van-guard, and, when the evening halt had been called, traced out with stakes and ropes the contour of the camp. When the main body had come up, the ‘tuldum’ was placed in the centre of the enclosure, while the infantry ‘bands’ drew a ditch and bank along the lines of the Mensores’ ropes, each corps doing a fixed amount of the work. A thick chain of picquets was kept far out from the camp, so that a surprise, even on the darkest of nights, was almost impossible59.
The main characteristic of the Byzantine system of tactics is the small size of the various units employed in the operations, a sure sign of the existence of a high degree of discipline and training. While a Western army went on its blundering way arranged in two or three enormous ‘battles,’ each mustering many thousand men, a Byzantine army of equal strength would be divided into many scores of fractions. Leo does not seem to contemplate the existence of any column of greater strength than that of a single ‘band.’ The fact that order and cohesion could be found in a line composed of so many separate units, is the best testimony to the high average ability of the officers in subordinate commands. These ‘counts’ and ‘moirarchs’ were in the ninth and tenth centuries drawn for the most part from the ranks of the Byzantine aristocracy. ‘Nothing prevents us,’ says Leo60, ‘from finding a sufficient supply of men of wealth, and also of courage and high birth, to officer our army. Their nobility makes them respected by the soldiers, while their wealth enables them to win the greatest popularity among their troops by the occasional and judicious gift of small creature-comforts.’ A true military spirit existed among the noble families of the Eastern Empire: houses like those of Skleros and Phocas, of Bryennius, Kerkuas, and Comnenus are found furnishing generation after generation of officers to the national army. The patrician left luxury and intrigue behind him when he passed through the gates of Constantinople, and became in the field a keen professional soldier61.
Infantry plays in Leo’s work a very secondary part. So much is this the case, that in many of his tactical directions he gives a sketch of the order to be observed by the cavalry alone, without mentioning the foot. This results from the fact that when the conflict was one with a rapidly moving foe like the Saracen or Turk, the infantry would at the moment of battle be in all probability many marches in the rear. It is, therefore, with the design of showing the most typical development of Byzantine tactics that we have selected for description a ‘turma’ of nine ‘bands,’ or 4000 men, as placed in order, before engaging with an enemy whose force consists of horsemen.
The front line consists of three ‘banda,’ each drawn up in a line seven (or occasionally five) deep. These troops are to receive the first shock. Behind the first line is arranged a second, consisting of four half-banda, each drawn up ten (or occasionally eight) deep. They are placed not directly behind the front bands, but in the intervals between them, so that, if the first line is repulsed, they may fall back, not on to their comrades, but into the spaces between them. To produce, however, an impression of solidity in the second line, a single bandon is divided into three parts, and its men drawn up, two deep, in the spaces between the four half-banda. These troops, on seeing the men of the first line beaten back and falling into the intervals of the second line, are directed to wheel to the rear, and form a support behind the centre of the array. The main reserve, however, consists of two half-banda, posted on the flanks of the second line, but considerably to the rear. It is in line with these that the retiring bandon, of which we have just spoken, would array itself. To each flank of the main body was attached a half-bandon, of 225 men; these were called πλαγιοφύλακες {plagiophylakes}, and were entrusted with the duty of resisting attempts to turn the flanks of the ‘turma.’ Still further out, and if possible under cover, were placed two other bodies of similar strength; it was their duty to endeavour to get into the enemy’s rear, or at any rate to disturb his wings by unexpected assaults: these troops were called Ἔνεδροι {Enedroi}, or ‘lyers-in-wait.’ The commander’s position was normally in the centre of the second line, where he would be able to obtain a better general idea of the fight, than if he at once threw himself into the melée at the head of the foremost squadrons.
This order of battle is deserving of all praise. It provides for that succession of shocks which is the key to victory in a cavalry combat; as many as five different attacks would be made on the enemy before all the impetus of the Byzantine force had been exhausted. The arrangement of the second line behind the intervals of the first, obviated the possibility of the whole force being disordered by the repulse of the first squadrons. The routed troops would have behind them a clear space in which to rally, not a close line into which they would carry their disarray. Finally, the charge of the reserve and the detached troops would be made not on the enemy’s centre, which would be covered by the remains of the first and second lines, but on to his flank, his most uncovered and vulnerable point.
A further idea of the excellent organization of the Byzantine army will be given by the fact that in minor engagements each corps was told off into two parts, one of which, the cursores (κούρσορες {koursores}), represented the ‘skirmishing line,’ the other, the defensores (διφένσορες {diphensores}), ‘the supports.’ The former in the case of the infantry-turma would of course consist of the archers, the latter of the Scutati.
To give a complete sketch of Leo’s ‘Tactics’ would be tedious and unnecessary. Enough indications have now been given to show their strength and completeness. It is easy to understand, after a perusal of such directions, the permanence of the military power of the Eastern Empire. Against the undisciplined Slav and Saracen the Imperial troops had on all normal occasions the tremendous advantages of science and discipline. It is their defeats rather than their victories which need an explanation.