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Messages - Longmane

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1
p7

In the thirteenth century English barons had the right to let their knights and squires wear a badge or uniform. It was considered a scandalous thing when a robber captain gave his men a uniform, just as if he were a baron! In the fourteenth century a man had to be a banneret at least for his knights and squires to deck themselves out in such a fashion. In the Scalacronica, Sir Thomas Gray of Heton wrote that the followers of the English barons who rose against Edward II wore identical clothes. At Bouvines the emperor Otto was recognised by the device of his conroi.

The strength of these units varied according to the power of the liege lord, but at Worringen several small banners were grouped together. The second half of the twelfth century sees the appearance of the bannerets, commanders of a unit of twenty knights.  In the Welsh wars of Edward I some bannerets have 20 knights and squires, but others have less warriors in their unit. Since Guiart described these conrois as square units, it may be assumed that formations with 12 to 24 cavalrymen placed 6 or 8 of them in the front rank, the others lined up in a second or third rank. The great bataille was formed of a series of conrois drawn up next to each other. This gave rectangular formations two or three men deep, with a front of fifty, sixty or more knights and squires.

The best example of the complete deployment of an army in 'battles' and banners was that of the royal French army which advanced to Cassel in 1328 to crush the rebels from coastal Flanders. It was made up of ten 'battles' with 177 banners when it reached its destination, and with some reinforcements finally totalled 196 banners.

It is useful to trace what later happened to these small units: in 1351 king John the Good of France wanted to draw up his troops effectively, and gave the order to form larger units, routes of at least twenty-five cavalry, better still thirty to eighty. It is perfectly possible and logical that as far as the strength of small units was concerned, there was a return to the conditions that had prevailed in the twelfth century, when these formations apparently had more horsemen than in the early fourteenth century. This would certainly be in accordance with the decrease in the number of knights. According to the Histoire de Guillaume le Maréchal, the chamberlain of Tancarville actually had forty knights or more in his banner, while William the Marshal himself had fifty and more in his conestablie when he was in the service of Henry II.

One of the best indications that such small formations made up tactical units comes from the East, in the kingdom founded by Baldwin IX. His brother and successor, Henry of Constantinople, divided his army into fifteen 'battles', each of which consisted of twenty knights and armoured cavalry, except the fifteenth, made up of fifty men and commanded by the emperor himself. There were also three similar units made up of Greeks in this army. The units are notably small for the times, simply because the army was very small altogether.

This little army made its attack in four lines staggered in depth, in units of forty men each, that is, two small units joined. 'And Pieres de Braiscuel and Nicholes de Mailli were put in the vanguard with Joffroi the marshal, and they said that they would charge in front, between him and Milon le Brabant, and then Guillaumes dou Parcoi and Lyenars de Helemes; and the emperor covered the chargers' 

In 1211, there was another example of this sort in the battle by the river Espiga. Henry I had again formed fifteen units, each consisting of fifteen knights, except that of the emperor, which had fifty. Henry ordered twelve units to begin the attack, lest the balance of numbers turned out too much to the disadvantage of his troops. A detachment remained in camp to guard the tents. The emperor was victorious, and pursued the enemy from midday till sunset. He said that he lost no men.

Here we are clearly dealing with tactical units. What would be the point of carrying out their charges in the manner described if there were no tactical units executing the commands of the leader as one man? Why else were the formations so small, instead of forming a large detachment, and keeping another as a reserve as soon as the propitious moment comes. At the same time it must be pointed out how Henry was motivated in the second instance: this time the ratio of numbers was so much to his disadvantage that he only dared put a small part of his army in the second and possibly the third line.


NB Next “The Tactical Significance of the Standard”


2
p6

Tactical Units in Knightly Warfare

In order to lessen the danger for the individual, to give him confidence in battle, to carry out an effective charge and also go into action in tactical units, the formations of knights were in closely serried ranks. It's already been shown how Ambroise and Guillaume Guiart, the one late in the twelfth century and the other early in the fourteenth, described the advance of the knightly units. Both chroniclers were eyewitnesses, and had a sound knowledge of methods of warfare of their time. Ambroise gave us several fine examples, and it is hard to resist the temptation to quote another good extract:

There were many units,
The most beautiful Christian warriors
That ever saw the people of the earth.
They were serried in ranks
As if they were people forged in iron
The battle line was wide and strong
And could well sustain fierce attacks;
And the rearguard was so full
Of good knights that it was difficult
To see their heads,
If one was not higher up;
It was not possible to throw a prune
Except on mailed and armoured men.

And in the Chanson d'Antioche we read:

And the other units of the Frankish family
March serried and in step.
The princes lead them on their lively chargers,
There is no space open where a glove can fall to earth.

Even the chansons de geste which are naturally inclined to relate the individual heroic deeds of the great lords, are here close to the accounts of eyewitnesses. The same image of the apple or glove thrown in the air is used over and over again:

Their units advance towards them in serried ranks;
If you throw a glove over their helmets
It would not land within a mile.

And:

The barons are so closely packed as they advance
That if you throw a glove on their helmets
It would not fall to ground within a mile.

Even between the formations of knights, advancing beside each other on the same front, there were sometimes only small spaces. When a formation is especially well drawn up, in order to make a surprise attack on the enemy, it advanced like the detachment of duke Girart de Fraite in the Chanson d' Aspremont:

They advanced secretly through a valley.
He had seventeen hundred men with him.
He led them in such close formation
That the wind could not blow between their lances.

Allowing for poetic exaggeration, the fact remains that the units were so closely packed that the horses were touching each other in formation.

An excellent narrative source explains why the cavalrymen were formed up so closely. In 1180 king Amalric wanted to relieve the fortress of Darum in the kingdom of Jerusalem, which was being besieged by Saladin. It describes how the king acted in order to break the enemy lines: 'Our army observed the enemy camp. Terrified because they were so powerful, our men began to draw closer together, as they had been trained to do, indeed so closely that they could scarcely carry out an attack because of the mass. The enemy fell upon them at once, and tried to force them apart … but our men… were too tightly packed. They fought off the enemy attack and continued their advance deliberately.

By means of this dense formation, which made a charge very difficult, king Amalric broke through the besieging army and liberated the beleaguered fortress. Here it is explicitly stated that the very dense formation was used for fear of the enemy, and this shows that our analysis of the psychology of the knight is borne out by the statements of contemporaries. But at the same time the chronicler points out that in this case the formation was too dense, and made the charge more difficult: nevertheless, this density enabled the army to make stouter resistance to the attacks of the enemy, who tried vainly to break it up.

The importance of such descriptions of battle-order can scarcely be over-emphasized. If an advance in very close order is the ideal to be aimed at, and is indeed achieved as far as possible, then it follows that duels and individual combats are out of the question. They became, in fact, increasingly difficult as the ranks were more tightly packed. These formations are a complete negation of the so-called duels, of which a battle between two knightly armies was supposed to have consisted.

Closely drawn-up units are encountered in the tournaments as they were described in the Histoire de Guillaume le Maréchal. They are also found in the battles at Acre and Arsuf during the Third Crusade, in the battles of Bouvines, Worringen and Mons-en-Pévéle, and in most of the narrative sources. It has been shown elsewhere that the chronicles are clear on this point.  All the sources written in the vernacular and quoted above—Ambroise, the Histoire de Guillaume le Maréchal, Villehardouin, Robert de Clari, Joinville, Guiart, and many other chroniclers—mention conrois, banners, batailles and échelles. Knights in conrois, échelles or batailles fight on nearly every battlefield. The close similarity of the technical terms—bataille, battaglia, bataelge; eschiele, scara, scare, schiere; conrois and conroten—shows that they have a common origin and that they were widely spread over western Europe. The Germanic origin of the words indicates that tactical units had been used for a long time.

In small units the vassals wore the insignia of their lord, if he was rich and powerful enough to maintain them in his retinue. When William the Marshal belonged to the retinue of the chamberlain of Tancarville, he wore a shield with the device of his lord: 'Sis escuz est de Tankarvile'  In 1176 Raymond le Gros had a retinue of some thirty kinsmen with shields of one pattern in Ireland. A while later the coat of arms was introduced.

His horse was covered with iron
On it was placed a cloth of blue silk
With golden flowers of the arms of the king
Of France, the whole unit bore the same.




3
p5

Other writers of chansons de geste described what close bonds existed between the lord and his retinue. In Doon de Mayence the attachment of the liegeman was well described: 'If my lord is killed, I shall die too. If he is cast into the fire? I too shall be burned.  And if he is drowned, let them throw me in too! The vassal had to endure a great deal for his lord:

A man must bear much hardship for his lord
And endure great heat and great cold
And lose both hair and hide for him if need be.

In the Chanson d'Aspremont Charlemagne entrusted the standard to the seneschal Fagon, who had guarded it for thirty-three years and had never been driven from the field of battle. He belonged to the royal house and guarded the banner with his personal retinue of a thousand liegemen.

A thousand knights elected from the country,
His liegemen, of his private retinue,
Everybody has his head well armed,
All wish to come in the fight
He leads them that day so close together
That an apple thrown in the air
Would not touch the ground during half a mile.

When Joinville wrote of the famous bataille of Guy de Mauvoisin, he praised not only the clan, but also the liegemen who gave assistance to their lord: as vassals most closely bound to their lord, their obligations were absolute, in contrast with those of many ordinary vassals who had different lords. The system existed from the middle of the eleventh century, and contributed a great deal to the tightening of personal bonds between the overlord and his vassals, as is evident from the narrative sources and the chansons de geste. The thirteenth and fourteenth centuries saw a relaxation of the obligations of the liegemen, but in the same period it became usual for soldiers practically everywhere to be paid. The knights and squires were then very well paid for their military service, so that their devotion generally left nothing to be desired.

In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries there were fewer knights and more squires, and by the end of the thirteenth century squires were in fact more numerous than knights. Did this weaken the solidarity between the lord and his vassals? There is insufficient evidence for this despite the defection of the Flemish knights and squires in 1297. These nobles were divided into two factions, that of the count of Flanders and that of the king of France; the incident is too isolated to permit any conclusions to be drawn.

The professional military class was made up of knights and squires who were more than ever the social elite. The solidarity seems not to have been weakened among the French noblemen who perished in such numbers at Courtrai, some of them had not wanted to survive their lord and returned to the battlefield instead of fleeing after the defeat. The Anglo-Norman nobles too suffered heavy losses at Bannockburn. In both battles knights and squires were ready to sacrifice themselves, nor is there any reason to doubt the devotion and solidarity of the men who fought at Monsen-Pévèle.

Yet these great defeats were, after all, concrete examples of the weakening of the noble caste. From the middle of the twelfth century the knights had gradually formed a caste which was closed by the mid-thirteenth century: this contained the germ of the decline. The great knightly defeats which came after the beginning of the fourteenth century were a sign of inner weakening, not yet clearly visible, but becoming clearer by the middle of the fourteenth century.

In short, the units which were formed from a knightly clan, or from the retinue of a lord, or from his liegemen, showed exceptional cohesiveness in this period. In most cases the formations in the West were composed of these elements, or at least had a solid core of such men. Of course there were also bad vassals, and cowards, but they were mercilessly abused by the chroniclers, if their flight was too obviously prompted by a lack of courage. Heelu praised the lord of Borne thus for his heroic deeds:

…the good knight of Borne
who was the finest of the Dutch tongue
among old or young
to be found at that time
in the Roman empire, far and wide…

and above all because, having been wounded, he had to be removed by force, and wanted

…rather to die with honour
than dishonour the name of Borne.

The lord of Keppel, on the other hand, was severely censured for having abandoned his overlord, the count of Guelders:

Another followed, fleeing
with untattered banners,
and after him a great band
of knights and squires, without need:
he was called the lord of Keppel.
May God condemn him
for fleeing so shamefully
and leaving his overlord in the lurch.

The example of the lord of Keppel, who fled with his whole unit, and 'without need', is instructive. The evidence of various writers is contradictory; it seems clear that despite the bonds of clans, personal retinues of lords, lofty conceptions of individual and collective honour, there was still not always sufficient solidarity and spirit of sacrifice to stand up to the ordeal of battle. Sometimes still more was needed. Together with the individual and collective training, the tightly knit social structure, noble conceptions of honour and duty, there was still another means of reducing danger, overcoming fear, preventing capture, and increasing the effectiveness of fighting units - this was to go into battle in small tactical units, which in turn formed larger units, batailles or 'battles', in order to be able to give more effective support.



4
p4

Rulers always wanted to surround themselves with specially brave liegemen who would protect them in battle as faithful body guards. Young Henry of England sought out the most courageous knights and tried to recruit them for high pay and lavish maintenance. Philip of Alsace made a similar offer to William the Marshal.  Baldwin IV and Baldwin V of Hainault chose the most courageous knights of the county as commilitones. There were about forty noblemen in the entourage of Baldwin V, who, like vassals completely supported by a prince, received horses, arms, clothes and money, and the fiefs of several of them were increased. 

All the members of the court of the count, the socially prominent knights as well as the lower servants, had to protect the count in the army, and in return their expenses were borne by him. If one of them became needy through sickness or age, he had a right to some assistance with food and clothing.  Jan van Heelu described how solid the bonds were between such humble servants and their prince. The sergeants who had received clothing from the duke fought particularly well in the battle of Worringen in John I's unit:

There were from Brabant
Many courageous sergeants,
Certainly the equals of knights,
That seemed so in the unit
Of the duke, their master,
Where they, with the most honour,
Did the best acts of fighting,
That anyone saw in the army.
And most of all those
Who received from the duke
Clothes, and were his servants,
They showed always, without stinting,
That they preferred to die
Than to abandon their master.

The harsh reality of the battlefield provides plenty of examples. Although the old German custom that members of a retinue should not survive their dead master no longer applied, it seems that this sort of thing did actually happen. It was the case at Courtrai in 1302.  At Mons-en-Pévéle the members of the royal retinue unhesitatingly offered themselves to rescue Philip the Fair, and many sacrificed their lives.  At Bouvines, both commanders, Otto and Philip Augustus, were rescued from certain death by the devotion of their followers.  At Steppes in 1213 Henry of Huldenberg wore the armorial devices of his master, duke Henry 1 of Brabant, and perished on that account.

It was one of the primary obligations of a vassal to defend and protect his lord. In an assembly of peers at the castle of Lille the lord spoke thus to his liegeman: 'You shall protect and defend my body, my honour, my estate and my possessions, as befits a vassal for his lord. I promise to protect you and the fief for which you do me homage, to give you counsel and support you as a lord must do for his liegeman.'

As time went on, feudal obligations assumed priority, although the influence of families was still felt. This can be seen in family relations themselves: the father was regarded as the lord, the sons as his vassals. Family bonds had to give way to obligations to the liege lord, for example in the punishment of the Erembalds after the murder of Charles the Good, and their resistance in the castle at Bruges, clan solidarity could not prevail against the lord. Anyone who fought with his family in such a case was mercilessly punished.

In the chanson de geste Raoul de Cambrai, the writer deals with this conflict between family bonds and feudal obligations. Raoul made war on the sons of Herbert de Vermandois. One of his squires, Bernier, who had belonged to Raoul's retinue from the age of fifteen, was descended through his father from the same clan as Herbert. Bernier's mother was a nun in the abbey of Origni. She implored her son to forsake Raoul, but Bernier refused, because his lord had given him horses and clothes, and the boy wanted to serve him until he had the right to leave him.

Lord Raoul is more felonious than Judas.
He is my lord; he gives me horses and cloth,
And garment and rich cloth of Baudas.
I will not abandon him for the honour of Damas,
Till the moment that everybody says: 'Bernier, you are right.'

His mother admits that he is right:

'Son,' said the mother, 'by my faith, you are right.
Work for your master, God will win by it.

But Raoul ordered an attack on Origni. The nunnery was set on fire, and Bernier's mother was burnt to death before the eyes of her son. After this attack Raoul returned to his camp. Under the influence of drink he insulted Bernier and even struck him in the face with the shaft of his lance. Other knights of the retinue came between the two men: now Bernier had the right to avenge himself if Raoul made no reparation. Raoul proposed that he should go on foot from Origni to Nesle (27 miles) with Bernier's saddle on his back as a punishment. The latter refused, and left Raoul's army with his men, despite the fact that the other knights considered that his lord had made him a fair proposal.  Bernier was absolutely loyal, although he had good grounds to abandon his lord, and when he finally left his master, he had right on his side. If the lord struck the vassal with a stick, the vassal could break the agreement; this had been laid down in a capitulary of Charlemagne.




5
p3

These facts are born out in epic poems. In the German Heldenlieder there are constant references to magen und mannen, the family members and the vassals. The thousand liegemen of duke Bégue in Garin leLorrain all belonged to a single clan. They were the best warriors, and formed one of the most solid bases of a lord's power, together with his liegemen, his castles and his revenues. In the epics the clans had many members:

And there were more than a thousand comrades together
All of one lineage and one nation.

The whole group of chansons de geste about Aymeri de Narbonne and his sons is devoted to his clan. 'There is neither rivalry nor jealousy among the members, as soon as one of them is threatened they all rush to help. No one esteems himself more highly than his brothers: they make no boast of their own feats of arms, but about those of their clan, and each one is proud to be able to behold his own image in others, many times reflected as in mirrors. As the clan grows, the braver they feel.'

This is well expressed in another poem Le siége de Barbastre:

'…And I tell you, Sire, by fine truth
That the heroic deeds of Aymeri are kept in heredity.
Not one will die in a castle or a city,
but in hard battle against infidel heathen.
That fee will I keep as my best inheritance.
Well, let us go to strike the infidel heathen
So that nobody can sing a bad song about it,
So that Aimeri's family will not be criticised,
So that no cowardice will be done in his age.
Let us go to fight so that nothing can be changed.'
At these words they have pricked their horses
All together once, with good will.

The text shows that the clan cannot be permitted to be dishonoured by the cowardice of one of his sons. Even when other members of the clan were not on the battlefield, the thought of the family has its effect, and helps to overcome fear in terrible danger. 'Come and help me, that I may not be guilty of cowardice, which would be a reproach to my family!' Thus Guillaume d'Orange invoked the help of the Holy Virgin in order to be saved in extremity.  And why did not Roland summon the aid of Charlemagne's army by sounding the Oliphant?

'Now Roland, my companion, sound your horn,
If Charlemagne hears it, he will send the army back,
The king will save us with his great power.'

Roland answers: 'May it please God
Never to let me bring disgrace on my family,
Nor bring sweet France into disrepute.'

The honour of the clan would thereby be jeopardised, even the honour of the country; the shame would be general because the poets would make mockery in a song.

But the clan system alone did not bring cohesion in the knightly units. As we saw in the case of private wars, feudal bonds between the lord and his vassals must also be taken into account, and particularly those with the liegemen, who lived at court or in the castle of a lord, and who constituted part of the family itself. The maintenance of a retinue or band of warriors by a powerful lord followed a very old custom dating from the time of the Teutons.

In those days prominent leaders surrounded themselves with brave young men and tried to keep the greatest possible number of close companions in their following. In time of peace these warriors increased their prestige, their social position and their power, in time of war they formed their lord's bodyguard. On the battlefield it was a disgrace for the leader to be outdone by his companions in courage or bravery, and for them it was a disgrace not to equal their lord in these qualities. They were dishonoured for life if they survived their commander after his death in battle. As members of his bodyguard they had to protect him, rescue him and even ascribe their own heroic deeds to him. This was their most important duty. The commander fought for victory, his men fought for their leader. He maintained them out of the booty and the profits that flowed in from war, and he provided them with their costly charger, their arms and their board at his table instead of paying them a fixed salary.  Centuries later the same custom is found in Beowulf and in the Norse sagas.

In the tenth century the Normans knew such old German customs which they had doubtless brought with them from their northern fatherland. Three hundred men were ready to fight and die at the side of William Longsword. With one accord they came to him, swore their oath of fealty and promised to be true and faithful. In accordance with Danish custom they all touched lances together, this was called wapentake, and served to strengthen comradeship in arms ceremoniously in a special circumstances. In the eleventh century it appears again among the Anglo-Saxons and Normans.

Among the Franks private retinues also existed up to the sixth and seventh centuries. The royal trustis corresponds to the comitatus described by Tacitus. The bodyguard was a sort of permanent little army which had to protect the king, but which could also be set to other tasks. Its members were called antrustiones and enjoyed a special protection. When a member was killed, the murderer had to pay his family three times the normal wergeld. The member of a royal retinue was thus a person of considerable importance in society, even if he had risen from the lower classes. He enjoyed this special status because of the oath of fealty, sworn with his hand in the king's, and because he lived in the royal entourage. The chief lords of the Merovingians also had their personal retinues, which formed the cadre of professional soldiers. They were fed, clothed and protected in exchange for services rendered.

The Carolingians had the scara, a corps of young and strong warriors, living at the court, who could be sent where they were needed. Young squires were trained for the profession of arms and were maintained at the court. There are many examples of young squires and knights who were given bed and board by their lord in his court or castle. These were the tirones, the milites de sua familia, de sua domo, the domestici milites, the commilitones, the knights of the mesnie or the hus. In 1108 Louis the Fat was thus able to raise a small army made up exclusively of knights belonging to his household.

In the Third Crusade Richard I had a personal retinue, which formed one of the main units in the battle with his bodyguard. During the war in Wales Edward I's household consisted sometimes of more than a hundred bannerets and knights, and thirty or more sergeants-at-arms. During his campaign in Flanders in 1297 his household consisted first of 475 and later of 550 armoured cavalrymen. Some of these men were only temporarily incorporated into the royal retinue, which numbered at least 400–420 permanent members at that time, i.e. between August and 1 November 1297. The hostel of the king of France in 1317 included 235 armoured cavalrymen. The prince-bishop of Liége had a familia episcopalis which among other duties was charged with the defence of the castles.  Sometimes he recruited a special retinue to deal with rebellious liegemen.

6
p2   Solidarity in the Knightly Families and Clans, and in a Lord's Retinue  (4 parts )

It is common knowledge that the old Germans in their mighty Geschlechter (clans) united in solid formations in time of war, thanks to the natural cohesiveness or solidarity which had developed among them from living close together in time of peace. The same men were leaders of society inpeace and in war. There was firm mutual trust, for the warriors were fighting by the side of companions whom they had known for years. Strict discipline, as imposed by the Romans to counteract fear, was not necessary, for anyone who fled from the field of battle was expelled from society, and had to live as an outlaw. Besides, if a people is warlike by nature, such characteristics of daily life may compensate for many other qualities which in an army of more civilized folk would have to be artificially fostered by long drilling under strict discipline, as in the case of the Romans.

The head of a family was also a military leader, so that if he was in command of a unit of men bound by ties of blood, he did so as the leader of a clan or tribe. 'Neither chance nor a haphazard grouping makes up the unit of cavalry or foot-soldiers, but families or clans.' The men so grouped from one family advanced under a sign or banner, the fano, gundfano, or bandwa.

After the Franks had settled in Gaul, this family organization and its concomitant military qualities disappeared. The warriors became farmers, and it has been thought that there was no question of the influence of the clans upon the art of war in the new military class which then arose, and later evolved towards chivalry. This however is a widely held misconception, sharply contradicted by trustworthy sources well into the thirteenth century.

The role of knightly clans in private wars has already been mentioned. In these conflicts between noble families there appear not only the actual family members, but also men of the retinue, the vassals who were maintained by the lord and lived with the family proper.

In comparison with the old Geschlechter, the medieval aristocratic clan or lignage did not perhaps have the same solidarity, but this is hard to decide, and other characteristics which the old Germans certainly did not possess compensated for what was lost. The knightly clan was smaller, making for greater solidarity. It was provided with better weapons and had much more efficient equipment. As warriors, the knights had greater individual dexterity, and better training in tournaments, which were held more often than the old Germans' war games. The knights were also conscious of belonging to the ruling class: for in their eyes they naturally occupied a lofty position far above the common people and even above the clergy. Many texts show this:

'That is well done', says the archbishop,
That is how a knight should behave,
Who is armed and well mounted:
He must be strong and proud in battle,
Otherwise he is not worth a groat,
And should go into a monastery and become a monk
And pray for our sins every day.

And elsewhere:

The archbishop …
Likes buying horses and fine weapons
For dubbing squires knights better
Than heaping up riches….
He explains this to the pope:
'Reverend Father, do not worry too much about this:
We ought to think well of knights,
When we are sitting down to dine,
Or are at matins,
They are fighting for the defence of our land.
You and I and our abbot Fromer
Ought to empty the treasure chest for them.
Each of us should give them so much
So that they will come and serve and honour us.'

The same sense of superiority comes out in a military form in mounted combat - the cavalryman always feels superior to the foot-soldier.

There are many texts which show the value of the ties binding the clan to the lord. The best known of these dates from the end of the thirteenth century, proving that these conditions lasted for a very long time. Joinville tells us that at the time of the battle of Mansurah in Egypt in 1250, during the first Crusade of St Louis, the bataille of Guy de Mauvoisin achieved splendid results: he adds that this should cause no surprise, for this formation consisted entirely of members of this clan and vassals of this lord. This was not of course true of all lords, since they were accompanied on Crusades by volunteers only.

To Ambroise the knightly clans and closely serried units were synonymous:

The clans advanced together
And regrouped themselves together
This made the army so tightly packed
That it could scarcely be harmed.

In the battle of Arsuf the great hero of the day was James of Avesnes, who fought with his clan and perished with three members of his family. During one of the battles of the Third Crusade, the Knights Templar were surprised by the enemy. Since they had had plenty of experience of fighting in the East, and were used to fighting in units, they dismounted and drew themselves up in crown formation, in which the men stood back to back to repel the enemy attack. They fought then, not as we should expect of a professional army, in very close units, but rather 'as if they all sprang from one father'. The poet shows that he considers that units formed from family members were much more closely united than those which the Templars could form as a military order, with their own rules for the conduct of war. The Schavedries clan began the battle of Worringen, and remained on the battlefield until the end.  Jan van Heelu wrote in the same vein about the men of Brabant, who fought as brothers under the leadership of their father, duke John I.

7
p1

The Arming of Knights and its Influence

In the Middle Ages emphasis was always laid on the armour, for 'armed' meant wearing a coat of mail. Those without it were unarmed or 'inermes'. Knights were heavily armed cavalry; in the Crusades they were called 'armed' in contrast to their enemies who were called 'naked'. The knights are 'heavily armed', while the lightly-armed Moslems were 'unarmed' (desarmée).

The Christians are very well armed
And the Saracens are unarmed
They have only a bow, a mace or a sword
Or a well-sharpened stick
And a cuirass that is not heavy.

The armor and heavy weapons made knights invulnerable to the arrows of the Moslems. They were called the 'iron people' by the Turks. In the Third Crusade Saladin did not dare fight again after his defeat at Arsuf. Against the well-armored crusaders his troops had no chance of success.

Their armor and heavy weapons were tremendously important to the knights because they made them invulnerable or greatly restricted the numbers of those killed in action. There is ample evidence that a greater sense of security due to their good protective armor spurred the knights on to the utmost bravery on the battlefield.

We know already that Anna Comnena depicted the western knights in the first Crusade as 'unconquerable in a confined area, but easy to capture in open terrain: indomitable on horseback, but powerless when they have to fight on foot, irresistible in the first shock.'  She lays great stress on the advantages of heavy armor and equipment, which made it possible for a charge to be so violent that the Moslem cavalry never stood their ground, and generally avoided a hand-to-hand combat.

The disadvantages of heavy equipment were not overlooked, however, and she makes the contrast stand out sharply. But it is not true to say that the knights were easy to beat in the open field; on the contrary, the reverse was true for it enabled them to pursue the enemy effectively. Nor is it true that they were useless on foot. It is quite clear on balance that the armor was invaluable.

When the spoils were divided after the fall of Constantinople in 1204, the clerk Aleaume de Clari asked for a knight's share, since he had fought on horseback, wearing a coat of mail. The count of St Pol granted his request, because he had borne himself so bravely.

'Li Frans…s' arme pour poour de mort!'  The knights wear armor for fear of death! The importance of iron armor was great because it eliminated a large part of the danger on the battlefield: anyone who wore it had to fight like a knight, as is clear from the Rule of the Templars.

This Rule contains important information on the knightly art of war, and the distinction is sharply drawn between the armored aristocrats of the Order and the light sergeants, who were not so well armed and did not normally wear full armor. The same tenacity in battle was not expected of them as it was of the knights, and they were allowed to retreat. But if these sergeants were given a knight's equipment by their Order, and were therefore similarly armed, this permission was no longer valid. 'The brother sergeants who wear an iron cuirass must fight on the battlefield just as is required of the brother knights; and the other brother sergeants wearing no armor will have the gratitude of God and of the Order if they fight well. But if they see that they cannot endure the battle or are wounded, they may withdraw without asking permission and without punishment.' Heavily armored sergeants could not leave the battlefield without permission or before the Christian army had been routed.

Knights, covered from head to foot in armor, had little to worry about when facing ill-armed foot-soldiers. This is obvious from the swift subjugation of the Irish at the end of the twelfth century by ridiculously small armies. Against those 'unarmored men, who either won or were beaten in the first charge', such heavy armor was not necessary and this was true wherever the foot-soldiers were not well armed. As long as the common people were too poor to buy heavy arms, and the princes could not buy them any, the situation did not change, until the cities and rural communes solved the problem and at the same time infused greater self-confidence into their men.

The high degree of invulnerability and relatively small number of dead among the knights following a battle encouraged them to fight bravely. The state of the mail-shirt after a battle served as a means of judging the man had fought bravely or not:

I know full well that you are a coward:
Your coat of mail is neither pierced nor torn,
And neither your head nor arms are wounded.

says Bueves de Commarchis to his son Girart.

The excellent protection of the armor also impressed the Moslems after the defeat of the army from the kingdom of Jerusalem at Hattin near Lake Tiberias in 1187. The knights of king Guy of Lusignan had struggled vainly to break out of the encirclement of their army. Totally exhausted by thirst and fatigue after a full day's fighting in the scorching heat, and a night without food or drink, following sporadic attacks, they were forced the next day to cease fighting and capitulate. Their horses were dead tired and covered with wounds. 'It was an extraordinary and wonderful thing that the French knights kept on fighting as long as their horses were all right. They were armed from head to foot in a sort of armor made of a fabric of iron rings. They seemed to be an iron mass, off which blows simply glanced.' … 'These Christians were lions at the start of the battle; by the end they looked more like scattered sheep.' Their might had been feared at first, but the Moslems mocked the miserable aspect of their disarmed and exhausted prisoners.

Contemporary western observers were also conscious that in combat between knights there were fewer casualties than in battles of classical antiquity. 'Formerly, many thousands perished in battle, but now, because of increasing calamities the means of protection have also been improved, and new defense has been found against new weapons.'

It is true that there was no difference in equipment when knights in western Europe were fighting against their equals. In such case they knew they could give themselves up if the odds seemed hopeless, and they could count on their comrades in battle. We must now consider the units in which the knights fought, and discuss the inner cohesiveness of these formations.

8
Pt 7 (last part)

Rough Manners and Knightly Customs

The more primitive the soldiers, the rougher their manners, and less civilized they were, the more bellicose as a general rule. Rough manners were much in evidence in the many private wars of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, and in the first Crusade. Enemies were beheaded and their heads thrown into the beleaguered cities, bodies were dug up in the search for booty, Crusaders impaled the heads of fallen enemies on lances to terrorize the enemy, and so on. The knights met with this later themselves, when they had become more civilized but had to fight against rough and primitive foot-soldiers in Ireland.  At the beginning of the fourteenth century they were complaining bitterly about the brutish customs of the Flemish, Swiss and Scottish foot-soldiers.

Obviously in a time of violence such as the tenth and eleventh centuries fighting was particularly reckless, because human life was not then as highly esteemed as later. It is a great pity that we do not know more about the usages of the period, particularly as regards battles and the taking of prisoners. But a passage from Orderic Vitalis is instructive about the behaviour of the knights. In his account of the battle of Brémule in 1119, he says that only three French knights were killed, but 140 were taken prisoner. This was attributable to the fact that their protective equipment was so good, and to the fact that the knights 'spared each other, and tried not so much to kill as to capture the fleeing enemy. Christian warriors had no desire to shed the blood of their brothers.' 

Orderic's statement reflects the general notion that was part of the knightly code of honour, that the beaten enemy should be spared, since he was a knight and therefore a brother-in-arms. But there was money in it for the victor too; the captured knight could ransom himself for an enormous sum. The text can also be interpreted in another way: the enemy would be less likely to resist when he knows that he would probably be taken prisoner and not killed during pursuit by the victor.

Ferdinand Lot rightly points out that the Anglo-Norman and French knights did not always fight in a humane fashion, so that we must not generalise from Orderic's statement, nor apply it to all fighting. In the battle of Worringen Jan van Heelu laments bitterly that the brave Schavedries family had to leave so many of its members dead on the battlefield. It would have been better to take them prisoner. However, if the knights knew that no quarter would be given, they would fight even more stubbornly:

Anyone who knows that there will be no prisoners Fights stubbornly in such a battle.

Everything here depends upon fortuitous circumstances, and the general attitude of the army. It is possible that the knights fought more bravely to sell their lives more dearly; it is also possible that they fled before it was too late, or to avoid battle against brutal and merciless adversaries.

Rough customs produced the type of knight who endured physical suffering and who probably did not worry much about death. As the knights became more civilized and refined, their manner of waging war was modified. It became more ruthless again as soon as the foot-soldiers were strong enough to stand up to knightly armies. As for being captured, the knights had to solve this dilemma: to save their honour by offering resistance and not fleeing, which increased the danger of being killed, or to leave the battlefield, with the concomitant shame, but without having to ransom themselves for enormous sums and without further danger. So knights had to choose between honour and self-interest.



Faith and Religious Conviction

The art of war in the Middle Ages shows a deep religious strain running through all the customs and usages of the period. Mass was celebrated before practically every battle, with confession and communion beforehand. This happened at Thielt, Courtrai, Mons-en-Pévèle, and most other battlefields. As soon as the English and their mercenaries from Hainault, Liège, Brabant and Flanders found out where the Scottish army was, on the expedition which Jean le Bel accompanied, the knights went to confession, attended mass and took communion, and also made their wills, for the coming battle, uppermost in their minds, was a matter of life or death.

The influence of this deep faith is best expressed in accounts of the Crusade, and in chansons de geste. While Christian mercy and chivalrous customs, together with a well-understood self-interest, led to the more merciful conduct of war in the west, battles were still conducted in the east with the utmost cruelty. This was partly necessary to protect an army in a far-off land, where a heavy defeat would have meant annihilation and where spreading fear among the enemy troops weakened the Moslem capacity to resist, but this resistance might also be stiffened if they were convinced that no quarter would be given. The Holy War was fought with unheard of-ferocity and brutality on both sides, which must have spurred on the knights to make extra efforts in battle, lest they should fall into enemy hands.

As for the battle itself, it was of great importance for a knight to know that his sins were forgiven, and that death in battle promised eternal bliss in Paradise. Instead of losing his soul in unholy wars against other Christians, he saved it on a Crusade.

But, as always, human weakness must be taken into account. In a letter to his wife Stephen of Blois wrote: 'Many Christian brothers-in-arms were killed in action: their souls have come to know the joys of Paradise.' Stephen was too weak himself to endure privation and mortal danger during the siege of Antioch, and the deeply devout Joinville preferred life to the death of a martyr.

The service of God was however one of the major reasons for fighting against the Moslems, whose value as fighting men was soon correctly assessed by western knights. This is quite a normal phenomenon in war: the common soldier sees no reason why he should not fraternize with his enemies.

In the first Crusade this respect for the enemy was very clearly expressed by an anonymous knight who left us a remarkable account: 'Who can be so wise or learned that he is bold enough to describe the expertise, the martial virtues and the bravery of the Turks?… They say that they are descended from the Frankish race, and that no one, except the Franks and they themselves, has the right to call himself a knight. I shall tell the truth and no one can dispute it: if the Turks had held to belief in Christ and in holy Christendom… then it would be impossible to find a people surpassing them in might, bravery, and military genius… And yet by God's grace they were beaten by our men.'

In the chanson de geste it is always the knights' task to spread Christianity.  Vivien speaks to his nobles in these words: 'As long as we live, we must not fail to kill Saracens and wipe them out, spreading God's law and putting our souls in the hands of God.'  But there is also respect for the good warrior: 'If he would believe in Jesus and worship Him, no better knight could be found.' And again: 'If he were to be held over the font and be baptised, no such warrior could be found in the Christian world.' So there are paradoxes here as in other aspects of the knight's life, great cruelty on the one hand, and on the other generosity and respect for the enemy.

The influence of religion on warfare is shown again clearly in the customary war cries: Diex aie, the French translation of the earlier Byzantine cry: Adiuta Deus; Saint sépulchre; Christus vincit, Christus regnat, Christus imperat. German knights used to march into battle singing 'Christus qui natus'. The Holy Lance and the Cross were carried as emblems before the troops. On the Italian carroccio a splendid monstrance was borne aloft with the consecrated Host, and priests always went with the lagoon. The outcome of the battle was often regarded as a judgment of God, and the belief of many people of that time in the intervention of the Virgin is shown by the number of times it is mentioned.

Religious feeling helped knights to overcome their fear. As soon as they found themselves in trouble they invoked the help of God, of the Virgin, or of the patron saint of warriors. In all the Crusades, particularly the First, faith played a great part in overcoming fear, and the Crusaders thereby brought their expedition to a successful end: once they had started, their greatest hope of salvation lay in their ceaseless striving to accomplish their chosen task. When a monk spoke encouragingly before a battle to Simon de Montfort, leader of the crusaders against the Albigensians, he answered: 'Do you think I am afraid? The cause of Christ is at stake. The whole Church is praying for me, and I know that we cannot be beaten.'

This concludes the brief survey of the fundamentals of the knightly urge for battle. We have discussed the influence of his personal interests, a knight's sense of honour, the rude manners and knightly customs and the role of religious conviction. Actually these motives underlying the attitude of the knights cannot be separated; two or three of them will operate simultaneously.

But not all factors are constant: self-interest may yield to the common good, or may function in a broader framework to the common advantage. Leaders may be brave or cowardly, the personal sense of honour may be subordinated to the advantage of the honour of family or country, religion does not always play a great part in every case. These motives thus seem less important than the two essential factors which will be discussed below, namely the arming of the knights and the confidence which their armor gave them to overcome fear, the inner cohesiveness of the knightly families and the close ties binding the vassals to their lord.

NB I'll start a thread dealing with those other factors sometime in the future.

9
pt 6

Self-interest and Profits of War

Earlier in this chapter the poem of Bertrand de Born was quoted. It gives a remarkable insight into the true motives which prompted participation in wars. Bertrand wished that rich lords would hate each other, because a rich man is nobler, more generous, and benevolent in time of war than in peace. As soon as hostilities were announced, he said cynically : 'We can laugh, because the barons will love us, … but if they want us to stick to them, they will have to pay us well.' 

But it was not just high pay that made Bertrand anxious to fight. War offered other prospects as well that were far more alluring and entailed less danger. It was a good time for 'taking goods away from usurers', for robbing burghers and merchants on the highways. The riches were there for the taking.

The poet belonged to the class of humble vavassors, whose possessions and fiefs were very small. War, and the plundering raids it involved, helped these impoverished knights make ends meet.

When Bertrand offered his services to the count of Poitiers he was already wearing his helmet, and had his shield slung round his neck. But then the problem of equipping himself for a campaign, seeing that he had no money, arose. In another expedition, the campaign of Jean de Beaumont in Scotland in 1327 with the army of Edward III —for which more volunteers turned out than had been expected, since all of them were hoping for very high pay—Jean Le Bel, who was a member of the expedition, summed up what was necessary for a military campaign: 'Everybody started to buy according to his rank and status: tents, cars, little horses used in the country, and they found enough of them at reasonable price, pots, kettles, and so on, necessary in a campaign.'

 It cost a great deal of money for a knight to be able to go out completely equipped, especially considering his expensive horses. The financial problems of petty vassals are understandable too, but of course this does not excuse their actions as robber-knights.

In the campaign against the Scots just referred to, there is another remarkable example of the knights' attitude to war, namely the case of Hector Vilain. In 1325 this Flemish nobleman fought under John of Namur on the side of the men of Ghent against the men of Bruges and the rebels from the coastal region and the Franc or Liberty of Bruges, and then crushed a rebel unit. In 1327 he went off against the Scots to gain money, and the following year he was in action against men of Bruges. While the king of France was advancing against Cassel, he threatened Bruges, and did his part in weakening the insurgents by compelling them to spread out their forces.

In the romance of Bauduin de Sebourc, Bauduin, a very strong but also very poor knight, observed from a hilltop the tents of a camp set up round a beleaguered castle in a plain: like Bertrand de Born he shouted: 'There is going to be fighting here, now I shall get rich!' He went straight off and joined the army. Clearly 'Ie nerf de la guerre' (the sinews of war) had a great attraction!

Poor knights also managed to carve out a career by taking parts as knights errant in the innumerable wars. William the Marshal is a splendid example: he was the fourth son of a minor baron, and possessed neither land nor fief. He was a knight errant for fifteen years. With a Flemish knight called Roger of Gaugi he managed to capture one hundred and three knights in tournaments in only ten months, not to mention horses and equipment, and the pair of them made huge sums.

After that he was put in charge of the military training of prince Henry, son of Henry II of England, Later, when he came into conflict with the king, he left his service, and Philip of Alsace and the duke of Burgundy each offered him an annual rent of £500. Through his physical strength and military qualities he rose to be earl of Pembroke and regent of England, and Roger of Gaugi held an important position under King John.

There were great material advantages to be gained both from booty collected on the battlefield and from captured enemy property. This was especially true of the First Crusade. Before men went into battle, they often thought of the riches that might be theirs as booty: in the battle of Dorylaeum in 1097 the knights encouraged each other in these words: 'Be of one mind in your belief in Christ and in the victory of the Holy Cross, because you will all become rich today, if God wills.' 

In the Chanson d'Antioche we read: 'Out there on the grass, we shall either lose our heads or else become so rich in fine silver and gold, that we shall no longer have to beg from our comrades.'  Soldiers of lower rank hoped to improve their social status:

See how the gold and silver glitter in the meadows!
The man who gets that will never be poor again.
So each one of you can improve his status.
They answered him: 'Lord, as you command!
He who flees on the battlefield shall be counted a heathen.'

Fulcher has described in a famous passage how rich the soldiers became who stayed in the new kingdom of Jerusalem: 'Anyone who was poor there (in Europe) became rich here through God's favour. Anyone who had only a few shillings there has countless bezants here. Anyone who had not even a village there, has a city here thanks to God. Why go back to the west, when we can find all this in the east?'

In the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries many princes recruited mercenaries from the Rhineland and Meuse district. In 1297, 1300, and 1302 hundreds appeared in the army of the counts of Flanders. These knights had a bad reputation among the chroniclers. They fought bravely in battle, but otherwise they made a very bad impression with their greed. Louis of Velthem says that they loved wine, good food, and money.  Jean Le Bel criticized the Germans of his time in the same way: he cited the English nobles as examples and then went on: 'This has not been the custom of the Germans until today; I don't know how they will do from now on, for they show no pity nor mercy for Christian men of war, when they capture them, no more than for dogs.'

Self-interest is an important stimulus to brave conduct in battle. But the search for booty and plunder has more than once hindered the ruthless pursuit of a beaten enemy. Wise leaders therefore forbade the collection of booty, and took effective measures to see that the pursuit was properly carried out.

Once the enemy was driven from the battlefield without possibility of return, the booty naturally fell into the hands of the victor, but as long as soldiers were personally responsible for providing their own equipment and horses the inclination persisted to equip themselves as quickly as possible at the enemy's expense, even if this attitude did not coincide with the common interest. The transgressor judged that he was acting for the common good in providing for himself as well as possible with horses and arms.

10
pt 5

Fear in Knights Facing Foot-soldiers

Another sort of fear is that of knights who find themselves faced by well-disciplined foot-soldiers, who stand waiting for the charge in dense ranks, armed with long weapons. The first example of this comes from the battle of Hastings, in which tightly-packed English foot-soldiers awaited the charge of William the Conqueror's knights on a hilltop.

After preliminary action by the archers, the cavalry went into action. But the English put up such a stout resistance that the left flank of William's army, made up of knights and soldiers from Brittany, fled, and the whole attacking army gave way. Knights who managed to penetrate the close formation, including the famous bard Taillefer, who stirred the troops with his martial songs, were killed. The English were armed with fearful battleaxes which 'easily hewed a way through shields and other weapons of defence'. William had to urge on his men, pointing out that general flight could not save them from death.

At the battle of Bouvines the Brabanciones of Renaud de Dammartin were drawn up in double ranks in the form of a crown, and kept the French knights out of their formation with their long lances. These mercenaries were the last of any troops on the battlefield to hold their ground, because the knights, after an initial mishap, did not dare to charge the close formation.

'Our knights were much afraid of these foot-soldiers armed with lances, whom they had to fight with their swords and short weapons. The lances were longer than the swords and daggers and their impenetrable ranks in the form of a crown were as strong as a wall.'

In the survey of the tactics of the foot-soldiers it will be seen how the French knights modified their tactics after the battle of Courtrai. This was also the case with the Anglo-Norman knights after their defeat by the Scots at Bannockburn in 1314. In this battle there was a notable conversation between Henri de Beaumont and Thomas Gray, who had raised an objection to a manoeuvre proposed by de Beaumont. Henri said 'If you're frightened, then flee!' 'Sire,' answered Gray, 'I shall not flee today because I am frightened,' and to show that he was not afraid of the Scottish foot-soldiers he joined the charge, in which his neighbour, Sir William Dayncourt, was killed, while Thomas's horse was killed by the Scottish pikes and he himself was captured.

At Cassel in 1328 the French thought that they were riding to their deaths, or at least that they would lose their horses in a charge against the crown-formation of Zannekin's closely packed troops. They opened up their own encircling formation to let the Flemings get away, and so to kill them more easily.

Not only fear for their own lives, but for their horses too and all that their loss would entail might sometimes also make the knights refrain from pressing home a charge against determined and closely packed foot-soldiers. Jean le Bel gives a remarkable example of this. At Vottem on 18 July 1346, the men of Liège and Huy had taken up their position beyond ditches, where they were attacked by a number of the prince-bishop's dismounted knights. Other knights stayed on horse-back, but did not dare make an attack for fear their horses would be killed. A splendid army of the prince-bishop, reinforced by German allies, fled in panic.

Besides these fears for their horses and themselves, there was another reason why the knights did not like fighting against confident foot-soldiers. The Flemings, Scots, and Swiss did not usually take prisoners, but killed their enemies. It was said that the French lords advised their king, Philip the Fair, to put an end to the war in 1304 against the Flemings because those cruel people would not take the knights prisoner.

The Austrian knights feared the Swiss for the same reason. In time past the Welsh and Irish used similar methods with their enemies. Giraldus Cambrensis describes the difference in the usages of war thus: 'Whereas in France knights are taken prisoner, here they are beheaded: over there they are ransomed, here they are killed.'  But in the invasion of Ireland (1166–72) the knights were infinitely better armed than the Irish foot-soldiers, and they had not much to fear from their enemies.

It has been shown that knights as individuals knew fear of death, wounds, and capture, and that individual fear could develop into panic affecting a whole unit, or putting a great part of the army to flight. Fear exerts great influence on warfare: discipline on the march, tactics and behavior in battle, all are affected by it. In order to intercept fugitives and get them re-grouped, a second and possibly a third line were formed in drawing the troops up before battle. The second and third line also made it possible to attack the enemy in the flank or the rear, for such attacks had far greater effect than frontal ones on enemy morale. Lastly, the use of standards on the battlefield reflects the human urge to feel attached to a visible unit.

The conviction of many scholars that the knights completely lacked discipline is well-known. They ascribe this to the individualistic behavior of the nobles and their seeking after personal honour and fame. In reality, knightly armies took insufficient precautions on various occasions, but it is doubtful whether this is to be ascribed to the behavior of individual knights: it stemmed rather from their optimism and the over-confidence they felt in their numbers.

But this over-confidence in military might was not the general rule, for in the cold light of reality it was tempered by the fear of death and the instinct for self-preservation. Jean Le Bel's description of the expedition to Scotland in 1327 supports this. As likewise the dispute discussed earlier between the nobles from Hainault and the English archers at York when, 'never did men live in such fear, and in so great danger of their lives,. Fear made those knights act cautiously and wisely.

Fear and its influence are not the sole causes of all the problems which arise concerning the behavior of knights in battle. Some attention must also be paid to the ways in which the nobles managed to suppress their fear. Chivalry gave countless examples of magnificent courage, gallantry and such heroic deeds as belong to the greatest feats of arms. Despite fear of death and wounds, the princes found enough volunteers for their expeditions. What made the knights go on such campaigns?

What enabled them to overcome their own fear? What lay behind their martial spirit? Let us first consider a few fundamental factors in this spirit, which may explain why they fought so bravely. First of all the knights were professionals who were fighting for a living. It was possible to become an emperor, a king, a duke, a count, a baron by conquest and a successful military career.

11
pt 4

Mass Flight and Panic

Besides considering the ordinary feeling of fear in the individual, we must also look at the question of mass panic in order to see what influence fear had upon the knights' tactics when they fought together against other knights or against foot-soldiers. One of the finest descriptions of panic in an army of knights and foot-soldiers comes from Ralph of Caen.

In early May 1104 a battle was fought at Harran, not far from the River Balîkh, by the troops of Baldwin of Bourg, Bohemond, and Tancred, against the Moslems. Baldwin's unit was quickly defeated and he was taken prisoner, but Bohemond and Tancred were victorious, and spent the night on the battlefield, on the enemy side of the river. The banks were very steep, and there was only one fordable place, on which the Norman leaders set a guard during the night, in order to prevent escape and to keep the enemy from gaining control of it.

As the night wore on, the men became increasingly uneasy, and the fear of death crept over them. The first little groups of fugitives were easily driven back by the sentinels but steadily their numbers grew until finally they overpowered the defenders of the ford, causing a panic flight to begin. Bohemond and Tancred were forced to organize a retreat as best they could, and Tancred stayed in the rear guard to cover the retreat and flight.

While the Turks lay sunk in sleep, the Christian knights fled, casting aside as they went all their costly possessions, their clothes, tents, silver and gold vessels, everything that was heavy and might delay them in their flight, even their weapons, which protect the lives of those who bear them. Rain had made the roads bad and turned the dust into mud; the horses slid about and their tails seemed to drag them down.

Archbishop Bernard was fleeing with the others, his mule trotting along covered in mud. No one was chasing them, but it was as if the enemy were at their heels with swords drawn and bowstrings taut. The archbishop's countenance was troubled, and his heart heavy with fear. He called out to his fleeing companions, and begged them: 'Listen to your father, my children, cut off the tail that hangs down behind my mount, which is not just slowing me down, but is bringing me to a standstill. Cut it off, I tell you, for the animal will be lighter, and I shall not blush for riding a mule with no tail. Cut it off, and God forgive you your sins. I grant full absolution to the man who cuts off this tail.'

Many crusaders turned a deaf ear and galloped on, so hard of hearing did their terror make them, nor did anyone have sympathy to spare for his friends, so much was he taken up with his own fear. The archbishop had grown hoarse when a knight who was fleeing with him at last did what he asked, on condition that he received the promised absolution. Both felt the relief at once, the knight freed from his sins and the animal from his tail.

So the knight reaped the double harvest of a mule's tail and absolution by sowing a benediction. The archbishop gave him benediction with heart, mouth and hand, and as soon as the knight had got the benediction as well as the mule's tail he trotted off to Edessa with the archbishop, fleeing with him for whom he had made flight possible.

In a battle under the walls of Acre in 1189, panic broke out in part of the victorious Christian army when some German knights were trying to catch an Arab horse and their pursuit was taken by the others to be flight. This local panic gave Saladin the chance to turn a defeat into victory, though not a decisive one. During the campaigns following the Fourth Crusade and the conquest of the Byzantine Empire, Baldwin I, formerly count of Flanders and Hainault, was taken prisoner close to the walls of Adrianople when he went to the help of the imprudent Louis of Blois. Some of the defeated troops were able to flee, thanks to the intervention of Villehardouin, who provided cover for them with a fresh corps which had been drawn up outside the city walls. But some of the fugitives turned in panic and galloped back into the camp, instead of strengthening the ranks of their friends.

The story of the flight of the French rearguard at the battle of the Golden Spurs near Courtrai on the afternoon and evening of 11 July 1302 is also well-known.

From the towers of the church of Notre Dame of Tournai, of the abbey of St Martin and of the city, they could be seen fleeing along the roads, through hedges and fields, in such numbers that no one who had not seen it would believe it … In the outskirts of the city and in the villages there were so many starving knights and foot-soldiers that it was a frightful sight. Those who managed to find food outside the town bartered their equipment for it. All that night and the next day those who came into the city were so terrified that many of them could not even eat.

When the Flemish forces made a surprise attack on the evening of 18 August 1304 near the village of Mons-en-Pévèle, the French knights fled by whole conrois and batailles beyond their camp. Many of them never came back to the battlefield. 'Then one could see troops defeated without any reason, for no warlike feat was responsible for their defeat.'

Besides these examples in which panic was caused by fear of the enemy, or by a surprise attack, or a growing feeling of unrest and anxiety during the night after a disastrous battle, there were also occasions when mass flight from the camp was in no way due to enemy action.

In 1102, the young Louis the Fat was besieging the stronghold of Chambly, which belonged to Mathieu de Beaumont. During the night there was a violent thunderstorm: torrents of rain and thunderclaps so shook the morale of the troops and their horses that many thought they were going to die. Utterly demoralized by physical suffering, wet clothes and the cold, perhaps also influenced by the fear of the unleashed powers of nature, some of the men got ready to depart early in the morning. When the dawn came, they set several tents on fire, which was usually a signal for retreat, and set off. The whole army did the same. Louis the Fat had difficulty in assembling a small unit to cover the flight even partially, and many fugitives were taken prisoner.

In April 1194, Baldwin VIII of Hainault had a similar experience at Arquennes, when he was preparing to storm Nivelles. During the night there was such a violent thunderstorm that horses and men were terrified. At daybreak not only the allies sent by the king of France, but also the knights, horsemen and foot-soldiers of the count all went off without permission, so that scarcely a seventh of the army was left with Baldwin. 'The count was astonished at this, and those who were with him, and the fugitives themselves were also surprised.' The prince was obliged to go home having achieved nothing.

It is a mistake to explain these two examples of panic in terms of lack of discipline. It is clear that the strictest discipline is no use when a whole unit or a great part of an army takes to flight in panic. Even the best troops may be subject to panic as many wars in history have shown. One of the best means of avoiding panic in battle is the use of two or three fighting lines in depth. If the first line wavers, it can be intercepted by the second or third, who are out of danger and whose morale is not affected. The soldiers who are tempted to break ranks in a panic are usually then halted and rounded up not far from the front.


12
Pt 3

In a campaign so far from home, escape can be much more dangerous than battle when it comes to saving one's life. Fulcher reports Baldwin as having given this advice at Ramla in 1101: 'Escape is no good since France is too far away.'  Robert de Clari says much the same sort of thing of the Fourth Crusade. The new emperor of Byzantium, the usurper Murzuphlus or Alexius V, had ambushed the troops of Henry, brother of Baldwin IX of Flanders. As soon as the crusaders saw this, 'they were terrified', but then they reflected: 'By God! If we flee we'll all be killed! We might just as well die trying to defend ourselves, rather than while trying to escape.' Before Constantinople was captured, many in the army hoped that the ships would be swept away by the current, so that they might be delivered from danger and be able to return home.

Henry of Valenciennes also mentions the special circumstances of fighting in a remote theatre of war, in the reign of Henry I of Constantinople: 'You are gathered here in a foreign land, and have neither castle nor any place of refuge where you can seek safety, except your shields, your swords, your horses and the help of God.' The soldiers were then to make their confessions in order to have complete faith in the outcome of the battle; they were to know 'neither fear nor doubt'.

Joinville too confessed quite sincerely what fear he felt, together with other knights, in the army of St Louis in Egypt. This fear was intensified by the enemy's use of Greek fire, which was a great surprise to the French. The king of France was trying to build a dam across one of the tributaries of the Nile. In order to protect the workmen and to guard the dam he had wooden towers built, which the enemy set on fire. The guards in the towers were faced with a dilemma: they could either stay in the towers and be burned to death, or disgrace themselves utterly by evacuating them. They decided that each time the enemy sent over Greek fire they would fall on their knees and beseech God to save them from the terrible holocaust. Another day Joinville was lucky as he honestly admits: the ''cats" or towers were destroyed by enemy fire just before he had to go on night watch with his knights. 'God did a good turn to my knights', he wrote.

In the battle of Mansurah he saw important nobles flee, but did not record their names for the whole family of the fugitive would suffer too much from the great shame. Later on he was still trembling with fright, but also from sickness and fever.  Even a nobleman's piety was of no avail when it comes to such a pinch. When Joinville and his servants were on the point of being taken prisoner, one of his cellarers proposed that they should all let themselves be killed so that they might go to heaven as martyrs, 'but we did not believe it' wrote Joinville, who chose to live.
 
During his imprisonment he had some other unpleasant moments. He found himself in a galley with St Louis, when the sultan who was holding them prisoner was put to death by his own rebellious soldiers under their very eyes. Thirty enemy soldiers came for them with drawn swords, their Danish axes round their necks. 'I asked the lord Baldwin of Ibelin, who knew the Saracen tongue well, what the men were saying,' says Joinville.

He answered that they were talking about cutting off our heads. Many men then made confession to a brother of the Holy Trinity, named John, belonging to the retinue of count William of Flanders. I could not think of a single sin. At the same time I was thinking that the more I defended myself the worse it would be. Then I crossed myself and knelt at the foot of a Saracen who had a Danish axe in his hand, and said 'Thus was St Agnes killed.' Guy d'Ibelin, constable of Cyprus, knelt beside me and made his confession to me. I answered him: 'I grant you absolution by the power which God has given me.' But when I got up, I could not remember what he had said or told me.

The strict rule of the Templars also anticipated that knights might flee por paor des Sarrasins, for fear of the Saracens. They were mercilessly expelled from the Order.

These examples from the literature of the crusades and the wars in the East are equally valid for western Europe. There too men fled from the field of battle, and there are many references to panic. There is no need to quote all these. The most beautiful of them all is the ironical mockery which the author of Le voeu du héron puts into the mouth of Jean de Beaumont, expressing this wish in the royal palace of Edward III in London in 1337:

When we are in the tavern drinking strong wines, and the ladies pass and look at us with those white throats, and tight bodices, those sparkling eyes resplendent with smiling beauty; then Nature urges us to have a desiring heart. Then we could overcome Yaumont and Agoulant and the others could conquer Oliver and Roland. But when we are in camp on our trotting chargers, our bucklers round our necks and our lances lowered, and the great cold is freezing us altogether and our limbs are crushed before and behind, and our enemies are approaching us, then we should wish to be in a cellar so large that we might never be seen by any means.

This realistic confession shows how great the difference was between harsh reality and the embellished accounts of knightly gallantry or battle vows taken in the taverns and ladies' chambers of which Joinville wrote. On the battlefield there is no wine to go to the head, and no fair ladies to spur on the knights, but fear strikes to the very marrow of the warriors. Then everyone wishes he were far away from the dreaded battlefield, instead of defeating Eaumons and Agoulant, two Saracen heroes of the Chanson d'Aspremont.

In this chanson de geste the same idea is expressed, not as a Christian knight's confession, but as a sharp reproof to the soldiers of the Saracen camp. Surely the poet was also thinking of the less brave western knights. Eaumons complains bitterly about the lack of courage and bravery among his men, who had taken all sorts of vows about the battle in the presence of beautiful ladies, with the best wine to provide a cheerful atmosphere:

In my great palaces, back in Africa, they were conquering the Christians' land while wooing my fresh-cheeked damsels, giving them loving kisses, drinking my best wines. There, they were splendid conquerors, dividing up the cities and castles of France as spoils. But the French are no cowards-they know how to use the sword and lance.

Lastly, let us look at the account of Jean le Bel, a canon of Liège who went with Jean de Beaumont in the army of the young king Edward III on an expedition to Scotland in 1327. At York, a dispute arose between men of Hainault and English archers over a game. The dispute led to a fight. Knights from Hainault, Flanders, Brabant, and Hesbaye hastened to the help of their men, charged the archers and drove them off. But the English archers in the royal army were very numerous, and they threatened the knights.

'Each day someone came on behalf of the king and of the English knights who bore us no hatred, to warn our leaders that we must be on our guard. They knew that 6,000 Englishmen were gathered in the city, and that they were out to kill or injure us by day or night.'

The knights of the Low Countries realized that their fate was in their own hands, and that they must look out for themselves. Their feeling of solidarity increased. They slept at night with their armor on and their arms ready to hand so that they could turn out at the first alarm. During the day they stayed in their lodgings and kept their armor and weapons close at hand. They posted a guard, commanded by the constables, day and night in the fields and on the roads. Half a mile outside the city they set up listening posts to warn the constables, who in turn were to sound the alarm to call the nobles to arms. This would give the heavy armoured cavalrymen time to mount their horses and line up at the appointed place under their banners.

For three weeks rumours spread daily of an approaching attack by the English archers, but each time they proved false. The noblemen of the Low Countries did not dare go into the city, but stayed together all the time with their armour on, well protected by their foresight and precautions.

This example suggests the great influence fear had on the art of war, for it made the knights act cautiously and wisely.





13
Background / Re: The Psychology of Knights on the Battlefield pt 1
« on: May 05, 2014, 06:18:04 PM »
Pt 2

We shall therefore turn first to the people who were critical of western chivalry or who fought against it as enemies. If we look at the testimony of a competent but critical observer such as Anna Comnena, daughter of the Byzantine emperor Alexius I Comnenus, certain traits in the character of the western knight are represented by the Norman adventurer, a great warrior, tough and brave, rough and sometimes reckless. Count Robert of Flanders would yield to no one when he joined battle with the Saracens with some of his knights in the van of the crusaders' army.  However, speaking of the time when she had to make an excuse on her father's behalf for not having hurried to the aid of the western knights after the capture of Antioch in 1098 during the First Crusade, Anna Comnena made this generalization about the tactics and strategy of the crusaders, whom she calls Celts:

The Celtic race … is independent and does not like asking for advice; they have no military discipline nor strategic skill, but as soon as they have to fight and do battle, a raging fury seizes their hearts and they become irresistible, common soldiers and leaders alike. They hurl themselves with invincible impetus into the midst of the enemy ranks as soon as the latter give a little ground. If, however, the enemy goes on laying ambushes with the necessary experience in the art of war, and attacks them according to its rules, then their courage collapses into despair. To put it shortly, the Celts are invincible in the first onslaught, but after that they are easy to overcome because their arms and equipment are very heavy, and they behave recklessly because of their impulsive nature.

Elsewhere she says: 'The Celtic race … is indeed very fiery and impetuous; once it has taken the initiative it can no longer be restrained.' This judgement agrees with the contemptuous comment of the emir Ousama ibn Munquidh on the striking force of the crusaders. In his autobiography he wrote: 'Anyone who knows anything about the Franks has looked on them as beasts, outdoing all others in courage and warlike spirit, just as animals are our superiors when it comes to strength and aggression'.  But, as is clear from the words of Ousama, such a judgement is purely relative. It is made in comparison with what he saw among his own people, and this is true of the comment of Anna Comnena, who was going by what she knew of the Byzantine warriors of her day, who were not outstanding.

These judgements are too general, and do not go to the root of the matter. The essence of this can be seen in the opinion the Bedouin held of the crusaders: li Frans qui s'arme pour poour de mort! 'The Franks wear armor because they fear death!'

The formidable men in iron were held to be courageous and undaunted thanks to the armor that protected them. In its turn, this does not alter the fact that this contemptuous judgement by the Saracens was largely prompted by jealousy, because they had no such excellent protective armor themselves. The Moslems fled whenever the heavily armored knights attacked them, in order to save their lives from the long lances. At Arsuf, three successive charges by the crusaders were enough to dissuade the Saracens from making any effort at resistance in the open field for the rest of the campaign.

Fear of death, of mutilation, of wounds—there we have the chief tactical problem, for the art of war is to achieve victory with the smallest possible losses. To defeat the enemy, soldiers have to overcome their inborn fear, and despite all inner anxiety carry out the orders of their superiors. The tactical aim must therefore be to allay fear in one's own army while striving to instil panic into the enemy, if this can be done.

This vital aspect of the behaviour of men in knightly combat has not been studied by many scholars. Neglect of such an interesting field of investigation, throwing a new clear light on the psychology of knights, is doubtless due to the excellent repute noble horsemen have for this. The great individual fighter, as the classic representation of him will have it, knew no fear. Undaunted, he continued to fight until his strength was exhausted, even until the last man was driven from the bloody field of battle.

This over-simplified picture of undaunted gallantry is not really a true one. Fear in the fighting man in time of war and on the battlefield is easy to see: if it is not quickly mastered men take to their heels, fleeing in whole units, or becoming panic-stricken. To begin with a well-known example, the defection of some crusaders in the First Crusade, especially at Antioch, may be cited.

After a good start, everything went wrong, and matters became so serious that Peter the Hermit and Guillaume le Charpentier, burgrave of Melun, fled. They were overtaken by Tancred, who brought them back to the field. Bohemond publicly denounced Guillaume, whose companions begged mercy for their guilty brother-in-arms: they all understood human weakness, and knew that some men were not strong enough to overcome it. Things became still worse when the crusaders, after taking the city, found themselves encircled by a new enemy army and chose to remain in their houses instead of storming the Turkish citadel, which was still holding out and constituted a terrible danger. The knights were shaking with hunger, and fear. Just before the city fell, Stephen of Blois forsook the crusaders, despite the fact that he had formerly held an important position, possibly that of supreme commander. When he met Alexius Comnenus some time later the army he'd abandoned had, naturally, been wiped out to the last man, or so the fugitives asserted!

Fulcher of Chartres frankly recognised what difficulties the crusaders had faced in the first great battle, at Doryleum in 1097, and how afraid the knights were: 'We were all herded together like sheep in a sheepfold, trembling and frightened, and were gradually totally surrounded by the enemy'. Later, when he accompanied Baldwin of Boulogne on the latter's journey to Jerusalem, where Baldwin was to succeed his deceased brother Godfrey, he admits: 'We feigned bravery but feared death.'

On the same journey Baldwin addressed his knights thus: 'Let those who are afraid turn back.' He knew very well that no one would dare acknowledge his fear publicly and lag behind; but during the night a number of men disappeared, both knights and footsoldiers. Similarly the Norman jongleur Ambroise, whose Estoire de la guerre sainte is one of the best sources for the Third Crusade, relates how the majority of the fighting men and pilgrims were so terrified at the beginning of the battle of Arsuf that they all wished the expedition were over.



14
This is taken from the same book and follows on directly from the earlier piece on collective training.

The Psychology of Knights on the Battlefield

The turbulent chivalry of the eleventh and twelfth centuries had gained the reputation of having a gigantic and insatiable lust for fighting, which led to the innumerable wars of the times. This rather too simple explanation is suggested by the lyrical outpourings of some poets, whose evidence should now be re-examined. No one voiced this warlike attitude more clearly than Bertrand de Born in his well-known poem:

"I love the gay season of Eastertide, which brings forth flowers and leaves, and I love to hear the brave sound of the birds, making their song ring through the thickets, and I love to see tents and pavilions set up in the meadows. And I am overjoyed when I see knights and horses, all in armor, drawn up on the field. I love it when the chargers throw everything and everybody into confusion, and I enjoy seeing strong castles besieged, and bastions broken down and shattered, and seeing the army all surrounded by ditches, protected by palisades of stout tree-trunks jammed together.

And I love just as much to see a lord when he is the first to advance on horseback, armed and fearless, thus encouraging his men to valiant service: then, when the fray has begun, each must be ready to follow him willingly, because no one is held in esteem until he has given and received blows.

We shall see clubs and swords, gaily-colored helmets and shields shattered and spoiled, at the beginning of the battle, and many vassals all together receiving great blows, by reason of which many horses will wander riderless, belonging to the killed and wounded. Once he has started fighting, no noble knight thinks of anything but breaking heads and arms—better a dead man than a live one who is useless.

I tell you, neither in eating, drinking, nor sleeping, do I find what I feel when I hear the shout 'At them!' from both sides, and the neighing of riderless horses in the confusion, or the call 'Help! Help!', or when I see great and small together fall on the grass of the ditches, or when I espy dead men who still have pennoned lances in their ribs.

Barons, you should rather forfeit castles, towns, and cities, than give up—any of you—going to war.


Bertrand's warlike verses are not unique in their testimony. In the chanson de geste called Girart de Vienne the aged Garin de Montglane expresses himself in very similar fashion in a family council of war. Peace would make him ill, and he likes nothing better than the neighing of horses, and battle in the open field. In the Moniage Renoart a knight would even return from Paradise to fight the Moslems.

Such lyrical effusions have made scholars think that the knight felt contempt for life and human suffering. Léon Gautier, a great glorifier of chivalry, wrote:

There were two main elements in chivalrous courage, Germanic and Christian, which were not always properly blended. Too often the knights loved battle for its own sake and not for the cause they were defending. Under their mail shirts the primitive barbarian of the German forests still quivered. In their eyes the sight of red blood flowing on iron armour was a charming spectacle. A fine lance thrust transported them to the heavens. 'I prefer such a blow to eating or drinking!' cries out quite naturally one of the savage heroes of Raoul de Cambrai. This naive admiration is most apparent in the oldest epics and, in particular, in the Chanson de Roland. In the midst of a horrible battle our Frenchman, more than half dead, still finds time to criticize or admire skilful blows of lance or sword.

We read in Huizinga: 'The psychology of courage in battle has probably never been so simply and strikingly expressed as in these words from Le Jouvencel':

It is a joyous thing, a war … You love your comrade so much in war. When you see that your quarrel is just, and your blood is fighting well, tears rise to your eyes. A great sweet feeling of loyalty and of pity fills your heart on seeing your friend so valiantly exposing his body to execute and accomplish the command of our Creator. And then you are prepared to go and die or live with him, and for love not to abandon him. And out of that, there arises such a delectation, that he who has not experienced it is not fit to say what delight it is. Do you think that a man who does that fears death? Not at all, for he feels so strengthened, so elated, that he does not know where he is. Truly he is afraid of nothing.

By way of commentary, Huizinga adds that this passage 'shows the emotional ground of pure courage in combat: shuddering withdrawal from narrow egotism to the emotion of life-danger, the deep tenderness about the courage of the comrade, the voluptuousness of fidelity and self-sacrifice'. In discussing the proverbial gallantry of a knight, one scholar was so carried away that he wrote that it was easier for the Knights Templar to stand fast till the end of a battle than to subordinate their will to that of their commander and to fight in units.

Without wishing to detract from the courage, daring and self-sacrifice which the knights so freely displayed both in battles and on many other occasions, especially in the East, it is nevertheless necessary to contradict this often-repeated, usually biassed, praise of their warlike spirit and their contempt for death. Despite their great and sometimes wholly admirable gallantry, the knights were still human beings who feared for their lives in the presence of danger, and who behaved as men have always done in battle—in fear of death, mutilation, wounds and captivity. It is better to look for courage in the manner in which they braved danger, for it is important to know how they overcame their fear and what made them fight bravely.

15
Background / Re: Collective Training: Tournaments. 3 pts
« on: April 28, 2014, 06:00:59 PM »
pt 3 (last part)

Tournaments did not differ greatly from real combat on the battlefield; indeed some sources call the clash of knights in full charge a tornatio or tornoiement. The knights fought with their normal equipment, and there is no mention of the use of other weapons nor that the point of the lance or the cutting-edge of the sword were dulled. This was anyway not necessary between 1150 and 1250, when the defensive equipment of the knights was strong enough to prevent fatal accidents. Naturally there was a risk of being unhorsed and seriously hurt thereby but the danger was not much greater in the real battles of that time when few men were killed.

The main difference between tournaments and real battles lay in the fact that the engagement took place on terrain specially fixed by announcement or agreement. Knights came from far and wide with friends from their own country, or in a group under the command of their lord. Each of these troops took up position on their own 'ground', a piece of land marked out, from which the groups advanced to face each other in the tournament. This area was also a refuge for those who were exhausted and who had to withdraw from the lists. Again this was different from a real battle.

Another difference was the custom of laying down arms as soon as one side gave up the battle. But if the enemy did not entirely give up while some of them were fleeing, the pursuit was carried on. An armistice could be brought about by common consent and lasted until the resumption of the fighting, which was usually on the following day. At the end of the tournament a prize was awarded to the knight who had most distinguished himself by bravery or skill in unhorsing his opponents and taking them prisoner.

The actual engagement in a tournament took place on a flat piece of ground, not marked off. Each side left its own base and rode at the enemy: the knights fought in units, and their numbers varied according to the extent to which the nobility of the region were taking part.

Usually knights from the counties of Flanders and Hainault turned out together against the French in France. It was considered a scandal when, during a tournament between Gournay and Ressons, the newly knighted Baldwin of Hainault, later count Baldwin V, who had a grudge against count Philip of Alsace of Flanders, fought on the side of the French knights against the Flemings, instead of following the custom which demanded that the men of Hainault, Flanders and Vermandois fight together against the French. In their own regions, however, Flemings fought against Hainaulters, or the latter against Brabanters. Just as in real wars, tournaments served to foster local pride and increased moral solidarity in military units.

The knights were organized in conrois or units of varying strength, according to the power of the lord under whose banner they were fighting, or according to the extent of the participation of the nobility of a certain area. These units were drawn up in very close formation, the horsemen side by side, horse beside horse, and they had to advance and charge in an orderly manner.

Such units were so obviously superior to those not drawn up in an orderly way that they were able to turn an unfavourable balance of strength to their own advantage. In a tournament in which the knightly units of prince Henry, son of Henry II of England, fought against the French, the French knights had such confidence in their numerical superiority that out of pride they forgot about unity, and charged, pell-mell, only to suffer a crushing defeat. In the view of contemporaries, one of the greatest stupidities that could be committed was the separate individual charge made by knights who abandoned the protective ranks of the conroi in order to rush ahead into battle, for in so doing they destroyed the cohesion of the unit. If on the other hand they attacked in close order, there was no risk of the enemy breaking through.

Philip of Alsace, who was praised in the Histoire de Guillaume le Maréchal as being one of the best knights of his time, and likewise the most courteous count of Flanders, employed sly tactics in tournaments, which shows that he really believed anything was allowable in the face of the enemy. From this it appears that there was a certain continuity in the policy of the counts concerning tournaments, and that the princes' example in knightly exercises directly influenced the art of war.

Philip was accustomed to using powerful contingents, some of which comprised very well-equipped foot-soldiers. During the tournament he evidently kept these units skilfully behind the scenes as though he had no intention of their taking part in the game, and patiently waited for an opportune moment while groups of heavy cavalrymen rushed at each other. Then, when the contestants were worn out by the struggle and the units had lost their original cohesion, he gave the signal to charge and fell upon the enemy's flank. This meant victory for him and magnificent booty for his knights. As prince Henry's tutor, he taught him these tactics, first making him pay dearly for the knowledge in an actual tournament.

 The Histoire de Guillaume le Maréchal mentions the dense conrois (seréement) in which the advance was made without disorder (disrei), in which the knights were arranged in close battle order (serré et bataillé se tindrent) and could fight in serried ranks (errèrent sagement et rangié e seréement) so that no one could get through them (onques nuls n' en trespassa outre) contrasting them to the units that advanced in disorder (a grant disrei), and in which knights recklessly broke rank in order to fight in front of the unit (poindre as premiers de la rote), which for that reason were severely censured (fols est qui trop tost se desrote). All this is clear evidence of real tactical units.

Philip of Alsace waited until the contestants were no longer fighting in steady ranks (desrengié), nor formed a fixed unit (destassé). He attacked them on the flank (lor moveit a la traverse) and made the foolish knights who had left their units his special prey. When Prince Henry's troops were in disorder (desrei) and his men exhausted, the count fell on them.

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