4
The man known to us as Vegetius wrote the De re militari or Epitoma rei militaris, the work for which he is best known to historians, probably in the last years of the fourth century or in the first half of the fifth century of our era.1 It was an attempt by a man with probably little or no military experience but endowed with much common sense, an analytical turn of mind and a wide knowledge of earlier military texts and histories, to compile a practical work on the science of war through which skills could be taught and grosser mistakes be avoided. The work was to enjoy a wide reputation in the Middle Ages, being quoted by a large number and variety of writers, ranging from chroniclers to authors of mirrors for princes, from political and social commentators to compilers of encyclopaedia, from Bede in the eighth century to Machiavelli in the sixteenth. We may note, too, that the De re militari was one of the first texts of the classical legacy to be translated into a vernacular European language (into both Anglo-Norman and French at the end of the thirteenth century), while it was certainly among the earliest books to be produced by a number of presses to meet the demand created by the printing revolution of the fifteenth century.2
1 The dating of the work has given historians and textual scholars much trouble. Was it dedicated to the emperor Theodosius I (379–395), as is argued by N. P. Milner (Vegetius: Epitome of Military Science (Liverpool, 1996), pp. xxxvii–xli), or to Valentinian III (425–455) who is supported, wrongly in Milner’s view, by W. Goffart, ‘The Date and Purpose of Vegetius’ “De re militari”’, Traditio, 33 (1977), 65–100?2 C. F. Buhler, ‘The Earliest Appearances in Print of Vegetius’, Gutenberg Jahrbuch (1956), 91–93. The first printed edition appeared in Utrecht ‘c.1473–4’, two further ones being printed in Paris and Cologne in 1475. It is therefore possible that Charles the Bold may have known the work of Vegetius from both printed and manuscript texts.
Translations and printed editions were one clear indication of the interest which the world had in the work of Vegetius. Another can be found in the large number of manuscripts of the medieval period, in particular the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, which have survived to this day.3 Nor did all these manuscripts remain unread and unconsulted on library shelves. Research reveals that a large proportion of them, in particular those of the Latin text, bear marks of having been read and the lessons noted: margins with fingers pointing to a particular passage, a ‘Nota bene’, or some other distinguishing mark all reflect a careful, often critical appreciation of what Vegetius had written. For such was the nature of his work that, while what he wrote was inspired by conditions in the late Roman Empire around the year 400, many of his generalisations about the science of war could be related to conditions prevalent a millennium or so later. Therein lies the reason why the De re militari is of much more than purely or even mainly academic interest.
3 Considerably more than 200 Latin manuscripts of the De re militari (henceforth DRM) are known to exist today, although not all are, or ever were, complete. ‘Excerpta’, for instance, constituted a popular form of the work.
Ownership of a copy is not always easy to establish, but the evidence of the texts themselves does tell us of a number of contemporary rulers who possessed the work of Vegetius. In the second half of the fifteenth century Alfonso V of Naples had a fine copy of the Latin text, now in the Bodleian Library, Oxford,4 while king Richard III of England also owned one of the English prose translations, today in the British Library.5 The court of Burgundy appears to have been exceptionally favoured in having two copies of the French translation made by Jean de Vignai in 1340 (both of them acquired before 1467),6 while Charles the Bold may have been the owner of a further copy which had entered the English royal library at Richmond by 1535, and is today in the British Library.7 A Latin manuscript, now in Prague8 but originally copied in Brussels in the script familiar to all who have consulted the registers of the Burgundian Chambre des Comptes, further underlines the fact that Vegetius’s text was known in the Burgundian dominions in the fifteenth century. Such a statement finds support in some five direct references to the De re militari made by Jean Molinet, as well as in a number of passages in his Chroniques which clearly reflect the ideas of Vegetius, although the author does not explicitly say so.9
4 Oxford, Bodleian Library, Canon. class. lat. 274.5 London, BL, Ms. Royal 18. A. xii.6 Brussels, Bibliothèque Royale Albert Ier, mss 11048, 11195.7 BL, Ms Royal 17 E v.; H. Omont, ‘Les manuscrits français des rois d’Angleterre au château de Richmond’, Etudes romanes dediées à Gaston Paris (Paris, 1891), pp. 1–13 (in particular p. 8).8 Prague, Knihovna Metropolitni’ Kapituly u.sv.Vita, ms O. LIII, completed ‘in B[r]uxella’ in November 1409 (fo. 73v).9 Molinet refers directly to Vegetius in his Chroniques, I, v, ix, xlvi and cxxxv. In other passages (for example, I, vi, vii and xiv) he again appears to come close to Vegetian ideas. See Chroniques de Jean Molinet, ed. G. Doutrepont and O. Jodogne (3 vols, Brussels, 1935–37): J. Devaux, Jean Molinet, indiciaire bourguignon (Paris, 1996).
While the military reforms instigated by Charles the Bold owed a great deal to developments which had occurred in France a generation earlier,10 it is more than likely that the series of ducal ordinances issued between 1468 and 1476 was also inspired by classical sources, two of them in particular. It is probably no coincidence that British Library manuscript Royal 17 E v, which contains the text of Vegetius dated soon after 1470, should also include the French translation, recently made on Charles’s orders by the Portuguese Vasco de Lucena of Poggio Bracciolini’s Latin version of Xenophon’s Cyropaedia, a kind of Greek Mirror for Princes (‘de la tres bonne monarchie’, as the explicit of the text states)11 based on king Cyrus, in which military formation plays a considerable role.12 Indeed, Olivier de la Marche indicated that the influence of Xenophon on Charles the Bold’s military thinking had been considerable.13 The emphasis on training, exercise and practice found in the Cyropaedia, in particular in certain passages in Lucena’s rendering, is reflected in the ducal ordinances which underline the forms of preparatory activity which lead to success in the field.14 Furthermore, the relatively up-to-the-minute technical vocabulary used by Lucena (‘cappitaines des ordonnances’, ‘conducteurs’) is also that used in the text of the ducal ordinances of this time.15 The shadow of Xenophon lies over the texts of the Burgundian military reforms of the time of Charles the Bold.
10 P. Contamine, Guerre, État et Société à la fin du Moyen Âge. Études sur les armées des rois de France, 1337–1494 (Paris and The Hague, 1972), p. 541.11 BL, Ms. Royal 17 E v, fo. 204v. On this see D. Gallet-Guerne, Vasque de Lucena et la Cyropédie à la cour de Bourgogne (1470) (Geneva, 1974), xiii, 181–82.12 R. Vaughan, Charles the Bold: The Last Valois Duke of Burgundy (London, 1973), p. 163; G. Doutrepont, La Littérature française à la cour des ducs de Bourgogne (Paris, 1909), pp. 131, 179.13 See L. Gollut, Les Mémoires historiques de la république sequanoise, et des princes de la Franche-Comté de Bourgogne (Dole, 1592), p. 863: ‘… le Prince se conformoit au plus qu’il pouvoit de ce que, en la Cyropedie, Xenophon enseigne de la militie Persienne au temps de Cyrus’.14 BL, Ms Royal 17 E v, fos. 34v, 35. See also Gallet-Guerne, Vasque de Lucena, pp. 48–49, especially n. 39, where ‘l’une des rares digressions personnelles que Vasque de Lucena ait introduit dans sa traduction’ is discussed.15 BL, Ms Royal 17 E v, fos. 54, 55v. See also F. Lot, L’Art militaire et les armées au Moyen Âge en Europe et dans le Proche-Orient (2 vols, Paris, 1946), ii, 116, n. 2.
Yet, I would argue, they owe even more to Vegetius. Fundamental to his view of the army is that its function is essentially one of defence, of preserving the good of the ‘state’ or society from which it is drawn and which it exists to serve.16 The statement, set out in the ordinance issued at Abbeville in July 1471, that the army should be assembled ‘pour le bien, seurte & defence de nos pays, seigneuries et subjects, & affin de prestement les preserver & garder de dommages & invahissemens’ planned by an enemy, thereby justifying the summoning of the army to preserve the ‘res publica’, would have been clearly understood.17
16 DRM, I, 7; ii, 24, iii, 10. See Goffart, ‘Date and Purpose of Vegetius’, pp. 92–93; Gollut, Mémoires historiques, p. 853.17 Mémoires pour servir à l’histoire de France et de Bourgogne (2 vols, Paris, 1729); II, p. 287 (and p. 285). At the chapter of the Order of the Golden Fleece held in 1473, Duke Charles claimed that all his wars had been fought ‘to defend his said allies or to defend himself and his possessions’. See Vaughan, Charles the Bold, p. 178.
Having justified the need for an army, it was necessary to ask who would serve in it. Vegetius’s mistrust of an army composed of non-citizens led him to stress the importance of the (Roman) citizen army. Yet not all were fit to serve under arms. The dominant theme in the first book of the De re militari is the need to select suitable soldiers from among those offering themselves for military service. The idea that men should apply to join the army is reflected in the ordinance of 1471 which declared that any wishing to serve had to apply before a specific closing date, and only those found to be ‘ydoines et souffisans’ would be selected.18 We may note that the French word ‘ydoine’ used here (as it had already been used for some time in French military jargon to describe ‘selected’ troops) is the exact etymological equivalent of the Latin ‘idoneus’, used by Vegetius, to describe those troops chosen for service.19 It was a word to give confidence, to convey that an army consisted of men who had been tested and proved before being selected to serve.
18 2 August (Mémoires, II, pp. 285–288).19 ‘A magnis ergo viris magnaque diligentia idoneos eligi convenit iuniores: DRM, I, p. 7 (end). Compare with Xenophon: ‘Ainsy fault eslire gens darmes qui puissant souffrir labour militaires et la charge de la guerre’ (BL, Ms Royal 17 E v, fo. 51).
Once selected, recruits must be trained. Both Xenophon and Vegetius expressed views on this point, the latter mainly in Book 1 of his work. The Latin writer’s basic thinking once again found practical expression in the Abbeville ordinance of 1471. The ducal army (ordonnance) was to be provided with the ‘meilleurs et plus experts en fait de guerre que pourrons trouver & choisir en nos dits pays & seignories’, the baillis being ordered to seek out candidates within their jurisdictions. These recruits, the ‘esleus & choisis en ladite ordonnance’, would be allocated to their captains (the ‘chiefs pour les conduire’) under whom they would train and serve.20 The ordinance of 1473 was specific regarding the methods to be used in training. In a text owing much, I suggest, to the central chapters of Book I of the De re militari, captains were ordered to take some of their men into the countryside, draw them up in formations, and give them practice in the ordered use of arms, in ways of methodical retreat and other exercises.21 Archers, too, were to be instructed on the use of horses, and how to fight alongside the picquenaires who, at a sign, would kneel so that the archers could fire over their heads, ‘comme par dessus un mur’.22 The discipline of such manoeuvring, based on training, was much indebted to the inspiration of Vegetius.
20 Mémoires, II, pp. 87–89.21 This was a recurring theme, found again in DRM, II, p. 23 and III, p. 2.22 Gollut, Mémoires historiques, pp. 861–862; Vaughan, Charles the Bold, pp. 209–210; Vaughan, Valois Burgundy (London, 1975), pp. 127–128.
Disciplined action was one thing. Another was the emphasis placed upon command and the effective exercise of authority through properly established channels. In the De re militari (mainly in Book III) Vegetius had set out the role of the commander and his responsibilities, emphasising the effect that able leadership could have upon the outcome of hostilities.23 In France royal ordinances of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries had established the King as the supreme holder of military authority: the model would greatly influence Burgundian developments.24 Both ultimately owed much to Roman, in particular to Vegetian, influence. An early ordinance, that of July 1468, showed how duke Charles intended to proceed. The text consisted of directives issued by the duke to the Marshal of Burgundy through whom captains were to be informed that the army was to be assembled.25 Three years later, the Abbeville ordinance showed how the hierarchy of command would be further strengthened as the successful deployment of each unit within the army came to be associated with the appointment of a leader whose authority was given him by the duke himself. The ultimate dependence of every ‘conductier’ upon the duke was emphasised by the need to have his authority, or commission, renewed annually by the duke himself. Command, now linked to the responsibility which every ‘conductier’ owed to26 the duke and, beyond him, to the wider ‘res publica’, was no longer to be associated solely with social position: skill, experience and the ability to achieve success were prominent as qualities to be sought by the duke as he selected his captains. Failure to make good use of these qualities would mean that the captain’s commission, issued ad hominem for a year, would not be renewed. The famous ceremony held at Nancy late in 1475, at which the duke issued new commissions to his captains who had just been addressed by Guillaume de Rochefort, doubtless echoing his master’s views on how the strength of states depended on the military skill (‘l’arte militare’) and loyalty of the army, shows how seriously Charles the Bold regarded the reforms now being put into place.27
23 Many of the characteristics of the good leader (for which see J. Devaux, L’Image du chef de guerre dans les sources littéraires, Publications du Centre Européen d’Études bourguignonnes, 37 (1997), 115–129) could be said to have been inspired by Vegetius. See, in particular, the necessity for the commander to concern himself with his soldiers’ needs (p. 119; cf. DRM, III, pp. 3, 8, 10); to see to the sick in the army (120, DRM, III, 2); to fight with forethought (121; DRM, III, Preface), and to animate soldiers by example (128: DRM, III, pp. 9, 12, 18).24 The importance of single, not shared leadership, in battle had been stressed by Honoré Bouvet in the closing years of the fourteenth century: L’Arbre des Batailles d’Honoré Bonet, ed. E. Nys (Brussels and Leipzig, 1883), p. 85; The Tree of Battles of Honoré Bonet, English trans. by G. W. Coopland (Liverpool, 1949), p. 175; cited by C. Brusten, L’Armée bourguignonne de 1465 à 1468 (Brussels, no date), 166. Bouvet’s work was well known in Burgundian circles, and many manuscripts survive to this day.25 Mémoires, p. 283.26 Ibid, p. 293; Vaughan, Charles the Bold, p. 207. The hierarchical command structure was also characteristic of the Persian army described by Xenophon (Gallet-Guerne, Vasque de Lucena, p. 47).27 Vaughan, Charles the Bold, pp. 204–205.
Skill and efficiency, loyalty and obedience, all these were necessary for success. In a passage which regularly attracted the attention of medieval readers,28 Vegetius had emphasised the need for all soldiers to take an oath (sacramentum) ‘that they will strenuously do all that the Emperor may command, will never desert his service, nor refuse to die for the Roman state’. A millennium later these words had been made to form an important part of the French programme of reform.29 No command structure was efficient or secure without the sense of loyalty needed to make it work. The idea was taken up in the Burgundian ordinance of 1472 which stated that all soldiers were to serve the duke, a procedure which would be re-emphasised in the following year.30 Hardly surprisingly, then, desertion (a subject considered by Vegetius) was regarded as both a potential disruption of an efficient military machine and as an explicit rejection of the oath of loyalty and obedience sworn to the duke. In the 1472 ordinance strong action had already been urged against those who deserted, described here as ‘partis sans congie’, ‘absent without leave’,31 while that published in 1473 decreed that all absentees must be reported to their leaders, who were held accountable for them.32 While leave could be granted, those seeking it had to follow strict, almost bureaucratic procedures to obtain permission to be absent, while material guarantees of return had to be left before any such permission could be put into effect.33
28 DRM, II, p. 5.29 Ordonnances des Roys de France de la troisième race (22 vols, Paris, 1723–1849), v, pp. 659–660 (1374); xiv, 5 (1451); Contamine, Guerre, État et S ociété, p. 359.30 Gollut, Mémoires historiques, pp. 852, 862–863; Vaughan, Charles the Bold, p. 208.31 Gollut, Mémoires historiques, p. 849.32 Ibid, p. 856. Such a step had been anticipated in the French military reforms of 1351 (Ordonnances des Roys de France, IV, p. 69).33 Contamine, Guerre, État et Société, p. 504.
A further example of classical influence may be found in the way in which the structure of the army was to be based, in some manner, upon the model provided by Vegetius. Here, I think, we may justifiably look beyond the influence exercised by a single text, since ideas about structures, based on the rank of commanders and the number of men in each fighting unit, could have been found in more than a single source, not least in Xenophon’s Cyropaedia. Yet the gradations of command, the naming of leaders after the numbers of men in the groups which they led (decanus or centurio, for example) so typical of the Roman legion also reappeared in the ducal ordinances.34 Philippe Contamine has drawn attention to the ‘rigidité et coherence’ created in these divisions which contrasted sharply with the imprecision and overlapping of contemporary French military organisation,35 creating for the Burgundian army (on paper, at least) a system in which all had a regulated place, knew whom they should obey, and from whom instructions should come. These groups were to move according to commands conveyed by the sound of trumpets;36 once again we may observe the influence of the classical world and, perhaps more specifically, that of Vegetius who, in at least two passages, set out the role of the trumpeter in ordering and controlling movements by the army.37 The first of these passages, in particular, caught the eye of many medieval readers; a considerable number of manuscripts reflect the interest which these had in what Vegetius had written regarding this military practice which helped to create, in theory at least, an army disciplined to move in ordered and coordinated movements.38
34 See DRM, II, pp. 4–14.35 Contamine, Guerre, État et Société, p. 486.36 Gollut, Mémoires historiques, p. 847; Vaughan, Charles the Bold, p. 208.37 See DRM, II, p. 22 and III, p. 5.38 A number of manuscripts contain marginalia drawing readers’ attention to the first passage cited above. Some have a drawing attached; a particularly fine one may be found in Klosterneuburg, Ms 1094, fo. 16v, in which a man, with drums in front of him, blows a long, straight instrument (‘tuba’) with relish. See the rather sceptical comments of J. R. Hale, War and Society in Renaissance Europe, 1450–1620 (London, 1985), p. 167.
Central to the ideas expressed in Vegetius’ text is the supreme importance of order and discipline, and the effect which these should have upon military action. A final example illustrates how the Roman army kept itself together, each soldier in his place both in time of peace and of war. In achieving this desirable state the role played by the ensigns was all-important. Contamine has suggested that the second half of the fifteenth century witnessed the decline in importance of the leader’s personal banner as a factor in rallying those who served under him, and its replacement by the banner belonging to the unit over which he had charge.39 Once again, where France led, Burgundy would follow. But in the case of Burgundy the influence of Vegetius is very marked. Allowing for reasonable adaptations, what he had written on the practical methods to be used to keep soldiers in their units was clearly followed in the ducal ordinance of 1473. The detail, which included a system of identifying those units in the thick of battle through the use of recognisable ensigns ‘inscribed with letters indicating the century’s cohort and ordinal number’ was precise enough to make it clear that it was the writings of Vegetius which inspired this way of doing things.40
39 Contamine, Guerre, État et Société, p. 252.40 DRM, II, p. 13: Gollut, Mémoires historiques, p. 854. Xenophon had also recommended the use of ensigns (Gallet-Guerne, Vasque de Lucena, pp. 48, 222 and plate xxiii).
The use of the password (‘nom du Guet & cry de la nuit’), regularly changed to prevent enemy attacks or infiltration, encouraged in the ordinance of 1468 could be cited as a further example of good practice recommended by Vegetius.41 However, enough has now been said to show that Burgundian military organisation had much to learn from both the fundamentals and the details of Roman military practice as these were conveyed to later ages through a reading of the classical histories (such as those of Caesar or Livy), as well as through the close attention paid to the more didactic works of Xenophon, Valerius Maximus, Frontinus and Vegetius.42
41 DRM, III, p. 5, a passage to which medieval readers often drew attention: Mémoires, ii, p. 283.42 Gallet-Guerne, Vasque de Lucena, p. 47.
Nothing has been said here about heroes. The reason is simple. Vegetius preferred to emphasise considered preparation, the thoughtful approach to war. He had little interest in the heroic, the extra-ordinary. Furthermore, he regarded victory as a result of effort by the army as a whole, by the many, not by the few or the individual. Essentially about armies, his work was intended to show how men could and should fight together. This is the reason why the De re militari had such a profound effect upon military thinking at the end of the Middle Ages and in early modern times, as permanent armies created by princes came into existence. It was such armies, although still in their infancies, which threatened Charles the Bold. After a long period of peace achieved by his father, Philip the Good, Burgundian forces lacked training and practice.43 Equally important, they lacked the military structures which already existed elsewhere. Seeing the possible dangers, duke Charles issued ordinances intended to correct those deficiencies. The response did not satisfy him, and so he turned to Italy for help. In so doing he illustrated the dilemma faced by those who hired foreign troops. Should a prince rely upon an army which, although drawn from his own people, might be inadequate, or should he secure the military service of ‘outsiders’ who were already trained and experienced, however dangerous that decision might prove to be? His attempt to create a permanent force shows that duke Charles understood some of the basic messages which Vegetius had conveyed. At the same time, the very large Italian presence among the military personnel in ducal pay also shows that, in his dilemma and surrounded by enemies, Charles the Bold fully appreciated the importance of employing troops who, trained and experienced, were available to serve the duchy.
43 See Vaughan, Charles the Bold, p. 166. Vegetius had pointed out that soldiers who had not seen active service for a long time should be treated as recruits (‘pro tironibus’) (DRM, III, p. 9 (and 10).
In the end it led to nothing. None the less, there can be little doubt that examples of Roman military practice had a considerable influence on the thinking of duke Charles regarding the role he intended his army to fulfil, and on how he thought it should prepare itself for action on behalf of the Burgundian ‘res publica’ it was bound to defend. His acceptance of some of Vegetius’s ideas helps us to understand the nature of chivalric culture in general and, in particular, how that culture developed in practical ways in Burgundy in the second half of the fifteenth century. Not least, it underlines the fact that the words chivalry and chivalric were words which experienced important, if subtle, evolution as the years passed by.
Did the reforms instigated by Charles amount to total failure? The answer must surely be ‘no’. Rather, we should see them as constituting a bridge between the past and the future, a future to which Vegetius made a major contribution. Evolving Burgundian practice regarding selection and training (real, live training), insistence upon military discipline and obedience to authority, and the development of military structures, all were to influence the way in which European armies grew in the coming century or so.44 In smaller ways, too, the influence of the Roman (even the Greco/Persian) past was reflected in the ducal ordinances. Was the inspiration for such changes ‘humanistic’ or ‘practical’? It is possible to see them as both, the line between them, as an examination of many fifteenth-century manuscripts of the De re militari amply bears out, was a fine one. In the case of Charles the Bold, in spite of his well-attested interest in classical texts, we can probably say that he accepted the example of Roman practices because they were practical, and because they had been tried before, particularly in France. It is as a careful, if at times audacious, innovator, with a liking for what he regarded as well-tried methods in military matters, that duke Charles deserves to be remembered.
44 Vaughan, Charles the Bold, p. 205. On this whole subject, see also Hale, Renaissance War Studies, particularly section II (on training and recruitment).