CHAPTER TWELVE
BYZANTINE MILITARY MANUALS

Prescriptions, practice and pedagogy

Denis F. Sullivan

Byzantium for most of its existence was heavily dependent on the military for its survival. Throughout its long history the empire was threatened by various enemies, from the Huns, Persians, Avars and Slavs to the Arabs and the Turks. But like its predecessor the Roman empire, Byzantium lacked any military academy. The skills of generalship were often learned within aristocratic families whose patriarchs were military men. Military manuals afforded a more formal supplement to such learning, following in the tradition of earlier manuals written in Greek. The manuals pose a number of questions: to what extent did they repeat outdated practice taken from the tradition? How did the authors position themselves in relation to that tradition? What is the nature of their pedagogical approach? How were they read and used? My intent here is to provide a general survey of recent research on a selection¹ of these manuals with a more specific focus on the issues noted above.

The reasons for the prominence of military manuals in Byzantium have been described by Gilbert Dagron.² He argues that the success of the genre is primarily literary, heavily influenced by earlier such manuals. While containing some practical content, the manuals’ primary function is to save the heritage of the past from oblivion and to present models. They presented war as a constant and regular feature of life, and the making of war as an art. The manuals were aimed less at practical application than at providing a moral grounding, as well as reflecting interests both aesthetic (the well-ordered arrangements seen in the diagrams of formations) and technical (the wondrous machines invented by military engineers). However, the individual manuals differ in the degree to which this characterization applies.

The earliest extant military manual in Greek is that of a certain Aenaeas, to whose name is added the epithet the Tactician based on the nature of his work, On Siegecraft, which is dated on internal evidence to the mid-fourth century BC. Among subsequent works with significant influence on Byzantine manuals are the On Machines of Athenaeus Mechanicus (first century AD) and the Poliorketika of Apollodorus of Damascus (second century AD), both dealing primarily with offensive siege machinery; Onasander’s (first century AD) treatise On Generalship, which the author characterizes as a “training school for generals”; Aelian’s Taktika (first to second century AD) on the Hellenistic phalanx; and a Taktika attributed to a certain Asclepiodotus (second century AD).

This survey will begin with the Epitedeuma (“Invention”) of a certain Urbicius, dated to the reign of the emperor Anastasius (491–518). This short pamphlet offers what it calls a “formation” (parataxis) to protect infantry when fighting cavalry.³ The “formation” was actually some kind of fence-like physical barrier protecting a camp, which the author says was “not mentioned by the ancients, but has been invented by me,” thus setting himself against the tradition. He speaks with modesty (“I have been so bold” … “my frankness, I think, will be excused”) and sets his recommendations in the context of a campaign undertaken by “our gloriously triumphant and most pious lord,” at a time when veterans are old and the army dependent on new recruits. Urbicius indicates that he personally lacks military experience and that his “formation” is without empirical trial, but seeks acceptance, arguing that “Archimedes’ science will assist the armies,” and concludes that “a science that has languished since the death of Archimedes will be brought to completion.” He justifies the difficulty of implementing the device in terms of the security it provides, the value for morale and the inspiration of victory. Urbicius’ verbal description of the barrier was originally accompanied by an illustration which he introduces with the phrase “as the picture demonstrates.” The illustration is no longer extant and the verbal depiction alone leaves the precise nature of the device unclear: a useful demonstration of the pedagogical value of accompanying illustrations.⁴ As the numerous individual units of the barrier are said to be composed of three kanones (“poles” or “sticks”), it may be similar to the device described in the Taktika of Leo VI (XI: 26), where a camp barricade is constructed from multiple units, each unit composed of three kanones, two forming a lambda-shaped frame, the third with a sharp point projecting from the frame.⁵

The Epitedeuma provides a mix of usual and unusual features. The author addresses an emperor and relates his recommendations to a specific contemporary situation. He indicates openly that he is an “armchair strategist” and bases his expertise in science, comparing himself to Archimedes. He presents his work modestly, a topos of the genre. An illustration is an essential part of the work. He places overt emphasis on innovation and the need to go beyond the tradition provided by the “ancients,” although such emphasis suggests that innovation has difficulty in overcoming the force of tradition.

Perhaps the most influential manual is the Strategikon attributed to the emperor Maurice – an attribution still much debated – and dated to the late sixth or early seventh century.⁶ The text has a strong, though not exclusive, focus on cavalry, and considers such issues as organizational structures, tactics, equipment, strategy, ambushes, baggage trains, surprise attacks, drills, siege warfare and the nature of the enemy, particularly the Avars and Slavs. The author indicates that he writes to rectify the neglected state of the armed forces (a topos). He will do so in a simple style (another topos, but also here a reality), “drawing in part on ancient authors and in part on our limited experience of active duty”, with “no pretense … of trying to improve on the ancients,” but focusing on the basics to create “a modest elementary handbook or introduction for those devoting themselves to generalship.” In a concluding section following Book 11 (Book 12 was added later) the author repeats his comment about the mix of ancient authorities and personal experience, but there adds that he writes his reflections “for the benefit of anyone who may read them.”

Despite the author’s comments, citation of earlier manuals is rare in his text, while his sources appear to be largely contemporary, for example official ordinances and disciplinary regulations.⁷ Citation of historical examples to illustrate or justify recommendations is also rare and laconic. The content of the work suggests that the intended audience was mid-level officers rather than practicing generals, although prescriptions are addressed on a number of occasions to “the general.” The author continues that not all topics have been covered, and that what has been written must be combined with experience and the circumstances to solve problems which arise in the future. The twelfth book focuses on infantry formations and drills. Diagrams, still extant at least in later manuscript versions, are an essential part of the text. Some are preceded by a list of the symbols which appear in them and introduced with statements such as “as the illustration makes clear.” Likewise prior to beginning his discussion of organizational structures, the author indicates that he will first provide verbal descriptions of the terms for officers, units and other soldiers, to facilitate comprehension of what follows. He occasionally uses a “straw man” (“Some people, overcautious and hesitant to change, might argue”) to set an argument. He also has dramatic flare: in recommending the value of drilling even in hot weather he concludes, “for no one knows what will happen.”

Syrianos, referred to by the emperor Constantine Porphyrogenitos (see below) in the phrase “historical books, above all Polyaenus and Syrianos,” has been the object of recent study and is now seen as the author of a comprehensive military treatise,⁸ most likely written in the middle of the ninth century.⁹ The text has been published as three separate works, the De re strategica¹⁰ and the Rhetorica militaris¹¹ (both previously considered anonymous), and a Naumachiae¹² attributed in the manuscript to a Syrianos Magister. There was also apparently a section on siege warfare no longer extant.

The beginning of the De re strategica is lost and the extant text begins with a general discussion of social structure and the functions of public officials. The author then indicates that he will turn to “the science of strategy, which is really the most important branch of the entire science of government.” He further indicates that given the dedication of the enemy “each person must stand up for his own country … with word, pen and deed,” a requirement to which the author will respond by writing, suggesting that he is an “armchair strategist.” This portion of his Compendium then deals with such topics as the qualifications of a general, sentinels, signal fires, forts, city construction, siege defense, tactics, the phalanx, armament, maneuvers, crossing rivers, encampment, the general’s staff, battle, night combat, ambushes, spies and archery, this last perhaps a later addition. The Rhetorica militaris begins: “This is what we had promised to tell as regards the operational part of all politics. As for the verbal part, it is divided into oral and written,” thus linking it to the De re strategica and introducing its new subject, military rhetoric. The author focuses specifically on a system for composing speeches with which a general might exhort his troops to battle, based on methods of argument drawn from the widely used rhetorical handbooks of Hermogenes, who is cited by name. He also includes sample speeches. Finally the Naumachiae, which has also lost its beginning, covers the following topics: landing on the enemy’s shore, the admiral’s staff, scout ships, signals used by scouts, battle formations and post-battle operations.

Syrianos includes definitions (“Strategy is the means by which a commander may defend his own lands and defeat the enemy”) as essential to subsequent discussion, and to support recommendations he uses historical examples largely from ancient Greece and Rome (e.g. the Athenians at Marathon, Alexander the Great, Regulus, but also Belisarius). He employs no diagrams or illustrations, but does at one point recommend making sketches of dangerous terrain and locations suitable for ambush as encountered for possible later use. As Zuckerman has noted,¹³ land tactics shape the author’s view of naval tactics, a highly unusual approach, perhaps indicating that these concepts are original in that area. Syrianos is also, however, often reliant on the earlier tradition of military manuals, as one might expect of an “armchair strategist.” He draws verbatim from Aelian for descriptions of tactical formations, yet explicitly notes that he has omitted topics he considers outdated and added material not in his source.¹⁴ Yet his rejection of discussion of chariot and elephant tactics as obsolete may be paraphrasing a similar statement in Asclepiodotus.¹⁵ Similarly he openly notes that he is deliberately departing from Hermogenes in not constructing opposing arguments, since when a general exhorts to war, no consideration is given to the opposing point of view, and overtly criticizes Apollodorus’ of Damascus method of crossing rivers by a lengthy critique of its practicality. He also describes the methods of predecessors (apparently Philo of Byzantium and Aeneas Tacticus) in combating sapper tortoises, but adds “We have discovered some things to add to their methods, which may prove even more effective against them,” which he then describes.

Cosentino¹⁶ has plausibly argued that whatever the technical advice offered in the treatise, Syrianos’ larger purpose, set in the context of the initial general discussion of social structure, is more literary and political than practical at the specifically military level, connecting contemporary Byzantium in the face of the Arab threat to its cultural inheritance from the Greco-Roman past, and hence asserting Byzantium’s cultural superiority.

The Taktika of Leo VI (“The Wise”) was written in approximately 905 by an emperor who never personally engaged in a military campaign.¹⁷ He calls his work “an introduction on tactics,” presumably following Maurice’s similar usage in the Strategikon, “for our lieutenant-generals” and refers to his own work more than once as a Procheiros Nomos (a lawbook). Each of the twenty chapters is called a diataxis (“Constitution”).¹⁸ Thus Leo saw his work as addressed to generals and having the force of law, and he frequently directly addresses an unnamed general in the course of the work. The Taktika is comprehensive and covers (in the later Ambrosian recension): tactics and the general officer, characteristics of a good general, planning, army organization, weapons, armor, training, punishments, marching, baggage, encampment, preparation for battle, the day before the battle, battle, siegecraft, post-battle issues, surprise incursions, armies of different nations, naval warfare and various military maxims.

Leo indicates that the study of tactics and strategy has been neglected for some time, “not to say passed into complete oblivion,” with negative consequences, an almost verbatim quotation from Maurice’s Strategikon. He says that he has combed “the archaic and more recent strategic and tactical methods, and encountered the other histories sporadically and gathered anything at hand that seemed useful … from there.” Much of the Taktika follows verbatim that of his imperial predecessor as well as the work of Onasander among others. In the first Constitution he indicates that at one time scythed chariots and elephants were a concern (a reference to Aelian’s Taktika), but he will not discuss what is now obsolete. This seeming break with the past, however, has been identified in the De re strategica of Syrianos and Asclepiodotus, so that even specific statements about relevance must be seen in the light of tradition.

Yet without question Leo was motivated by contemporary concerns. While he indicates that he derives his information from books, when addressing the area of naval warfare (Constitution XIX) he says, almost apologetically,¹⁹ that he was unable to find written sources and had to depend on information gathered from his naval officers. In his proemium he notes that he has complied the book because of the Saracens, and in his Constitution XVIII on foreign peoples and their military (modeled on the similar ethnographic chapter in Maurice’s Strategikon) he includes a new section on the “Saracens who are now troubling our Roman state” and says: “This race borders our empire and, no less than the Persian race of old did to the ancient emperors, they now trouble us and harm our subjects daily, wherefore we have put forth the effort of this constitution on warfare”;²⁰ a similar statement appears in the epilogue. Notably the Arab navy was a particularly significant threat to Byzantium during this period. Dagron²¹ has suggested that Leo actually wished the Byzantines to emulate some aspects of the Arab system as a way of improving Byzantine success against them. It has also been suggested that while he does not describe the tactics of the Bulgarians, saying they are now at peace with the empire, he does describe those of the Magyars and notes their similarity to those of the Bulgarians, in a diplomatic subterfuge.²² Leo also describes the hand-held device for projecting Greek fire, the cheirosiphon, as “recently invented by our empire.” Thus while very much within the tradition and dependent on earlier sources, Leo’s Taktika still had contemporary relevance and initiated the resurgence of interest in military writing.

In this long work Leo uses a variety of approaches to presenting his recommendations over and above their legal force, particularly first-person plurals such as “we order,” “we ordain,” “we prescribe,” etc. There are no references to illustrations, and while examples are few, they are significant. To illustrate the value of offering lenient terms to a besieged enemy and of launching a counterinvasion when the enemy has invaded Byzantine territory, he cites the application of these approaches against Lombards and against the Arabs in Syria by “Our general, Nikephoros,” that is, Nikephoros Phokas the Elder, grandfather of the later emperor of the same name. Leo also mentions Phokas’ invention of a spiked device for protecting camps against Bulgarian cavalry. Leo’s examples, then, are contemporary and give prominence to a general whom Dagron has plausibly suggested was the principal informant of the emperor.²³ Finally worthy of note is that Leo recommends to his generals more than once that they consult books of history and strategy for information and also employ their own inventiveness (epinoia) and that of their military engineers.

The anonymous De obsidione toleranda,²⁴ written in its current form in the first quarter of the tenth century, though based on an earlier work, presents recommendations to an unnamed general on methods of defending a city under siege. The author initially encourages resistance when a siege threatens, considers provisioning of necessities, evacuation of non-combatants, organization of craftsmen by category (e.g. arms makers, siege machine operators, bronze smiths, rope makers, et al.), fortification issues (e.g. repair and raising of walls, securing tunnels, extending defensive jetties, use of caltrops and warning bells), manpower issues (guard duty, deserters, training, organization, etc.) and final preparations (securing flocks, gathering in all crops, poisoning external water supplies, various tactics while under siege, etc.). Much of the terminology for professions, materials, weapons, etc. indicates a clearly contemporary perspective, including siphons to project Greek fire, and while a number of the defensive responses recommended are found in earlier manuals, there is little direct quotation other than in the examples. The author twice comments on the great inventiveness of the enemy and the need for a corresponding creative response to the immediate circumstances, twice also citing Archimedes as a model for such a response. The generic general to whom the treatise is directed is twice addressed in the vocative, suggesting that the author is a high-ranking officer himself.

There are no references to illustrations, but historical examples are frequently used to support a recommendation, either positively (e.g. “For when Vespasian encircled Jotapata Josephus by deploying wicker barriers extended the wall to a great height”) or negatively to show the consequences of failing to follow the recommendation (“For great Caesarea is said to have been taken through the tunnels”). In one instance the author explains that he uses examples as encouragement to show that contemporary enemies are weaker than those faced successfully in past history. Most examples are drawn from Polybius, Josephus, Arrian and Procopius and in one case, reflecting apparent early seventh-century events, from an unknown source. The author also mentions as examples of enemy methods those of Bulgarians and Arabs (a siege of Thessalonika, presumably that of 903) in contexts which suggest recent activity.

Two anonymous treatises on siege machines are attributed to a “Heron of Byzantium,” though actually the author is anonymous: the Parangelmata Poliorketika (Instructions for Siege Warfare) and Geodesia (Measurement).²⁵ Both may be dated in the second quarter of the tenth century. In the first the author indicates that he will update the treatise of Apollodorus of Damascus (first to second century AD) by modernizing the technical terminology and providing his own new approach to illustration, by providing in effect an illustration of the “finished product” to make construction easy for anyone. He includes in his work various tortoises, rams, observation ladders, mobile wooden towers, ladders and other devices for mounting walls, and rafts for crossing rivers. Most are taken from Apollodorus and Athenaeus Mechanicus and updated as indicated, some are presumably fanciful (an inflatable leather ladder based on Philo Mechanicus) and some are of purely historical interest (the famous ram tortoise of Hegetor). Others reflect contemporary practice such as his description of a very light portable siege shed called a laisa made by plaiting vine branches in the form of an arch.

The Geodesia draws heavily on a treatise of Heron of Alexandria, the Dioptra, and examines methods of safely measuring the required size of the various devices. Notably the author uses locations in the hippodrome of Constantinople, for example the distance across the starting gates, to teach the use of his mathematical formulae, asserting the pedagogical value of such an approach with the maxim “They learn pottery on the pot.” The treatise is richly illustrated with depictions of finished devices and of the mathematical formulae, including a human figure measuring the radius of a circle and a known cistern used for a formula of measurement of the volume of a rectangle. The author comments: “an illustration alone, if well defined, is able to render quite clear aspects of construction that are obscure and difficult to express” and links each illustration to the text with such statements as, “The drawings are below in sequence.” He concludes the Parangelmata Poliorketika with the statement that if the military commanders make accurate use of his manual “they will easily capture cities, especially those of Hagar, and themselves suffer nothing fatal from the God-damned (theolestos) enemy.” Thus the treatise was inspired by offensive siege warfare against the Arabs, and as the Greek for “God-damned” is particularly associated with the Arabs of Crete, may be related to the expedition against Crete in 949. The practical utility of the treatise, however, has been called into question. The author’s display of rhetorical conventions and Neoplatonic philosophy, as well as use of high-style Greek, has been seen as an indication that the manuals were less for immediate use by military engineers than “as part of a debate within the imperial court about how the past was to be used in a military context.”²⁶

The anonymous Sylloge tacticorum (Collection of Tactics)²⁷ is of uncertain date, but most likely mid-tenth century; the Taktika of Leo VI is one its sources, as are a number of earlier texts on generalship, tactics and stratagems, for example Onasander, Aelian and Polyaenus; some chapters influenced the later Praecepta militaria of Nikephoros Phokas. While much is derived from the earlier manuals, including discussions of generalship, measurements, encampments and stratagems, the author specifically states in his introductory paragraph that it is necessary to speak of military tactics not only of prior times but also of “our times” so that his readers will know what was done by the ancients, but also what was discovered by their posterity, thereby increasing the effectiveness of his work. He indeed does treat contemporary subjects (particularly equipment and cavalry tactics) in considerable detail in chapters 38–9 and 46–7.²⁸ The text twice refers to illustrations with the comment that these will provide greater clarity than the text; the illustrations, however, do not survive.

The author employs an interesting range of vocabulary found for the first time, for example artzikidion (an unknown species of a tree essential for single-piece spears) and kompothelukion (“button” for securing caftan sleeves), as well as combined phrases (kabadia meta bambakes kai koukouliou, or “caftans of cotton and coarse silk”) for contemporary military equipment. Noteworthy as well is the first recorded use of the term saka to designate a “rearguard,” a term which occurs subsequently in all the manuals of the later tenth century. Arabic in origin, it suggests Byzantine adaptation to Arab practice.²⁹ It contains also the first mention of the menavlatoi, infantry soldiers armed with a new type of heavy spear, and the first technical use of the word mosun for a mobile siege tower, a usage subsequently found in the Alexiad of Anna Komnene. The “hand-siphon” for projecting Greek fire, the author says, “our empire has now invented,” apparently recalling the similar statement in Leo VI’s Taktika.

Three short treatises, edited and translated under the title Three Treatises on Imperial Military Expeditions,³⁰ are associated with the emperor Constantine VII Porphyrogenitos, and dated in their current form to the late 950s, although they are based in part on material complied by Leo Katakylas in the early tenth century at the direction of Leo VI. The texts provide detailed information on the process needed when an emperor campaigns in Asia Minor. The first provides a list of camps on route. The second (presumably written by Katakylas) records the organizational aspects of an imperial expedition; in the last, an expansion of the second, Constantine says he personally compiled the material as a guide and memorandum for his son Romanos II, whom he addresses directly. This third details equipment, supplies, pack animals, tents, etc. needed for the emperor and his entourage, as well as the elaborate procedure for welcoming him back to Constantinople. Of particular interest are the security measures employed both in camp and on the march, and the mention of books to be included in the emperor’s personal baggage: “military manuals (strategika), books on mechanics including siege machines (helepoleis) and production of missiles (belopoiika); and historical books, especially those of Polyainos and Syrianos. The latter reference is to the aforementioned Compendium of Syrianos, the former to the second-century Strategems of Polyaenus, whose popularity in Byzantium is attested by its frequent abridgement in extant manuscripts. There are no accompanying illustrations.

The second half of the tenth century provides three manuals closely associated with the emperor Nikephoros Phokas, a scion of an aristocratic family from Cappadocia known for extensive military experience. His grandfather had successfully commanded troops in Asia Minor and Sicily, as noted above; his uncle Leo was defeated at Achelous in 917 by the Bulgars; his father Bardas and brother Leo were also general officers. Nikephoros became supreme commander in 955 and led the Byzantine offensive in northern Syria; in 961 after a siege he took Crete back from the Arabs. He was declared emperor by the army in 963.

The Praecepta militaria³¹ may be from the hand of Nikephoros Phokas himself as argued by the recent editor of the text,³² although the view has not gained universal agreement.³³ The text, written about 965, provides pragmatic recommendations for commanders of Byzantine offensive operations in northern Syria and mentions as the enemy the Arabs and the Bedouins. The latter are specifically characterized as “confident in their horses” whose speed allows them to avoid pursuers and then suddenly turn and reverse the situation. The treatise, which lacks any formal introduction and may be incomplete, is in five chapters dealing with infantry, heavy infantry, heavily armored cavalry, deployment of cavalry, and encampment and spies. Colloquial terms occur, generally with an apologetic tone. For example, the word alogopturma (“stampede”) is introduced with the phrase “as it is called in colloquial speech.” The main contemporary developments include the descriptions of the menavlatoi, infantry armed with a heavy spear (menavlion) to withstand cavalry charges, the newly designed “hollow infantry square” and the use of heavily armored cavalry (kataphraktoi), a development particularly associated with Nikephoros Phokas.

Highly detailed information on the components of weapons and armor is provided, from cotton or coarse silk body armor to the fastenings used to secure sleeves as needed. Among the weapons mentioned is the hand-held device for propelling “Greek fire,” recommended for breaking enemy formations of greater or equal strength. The author recommends avoiding a pitched battle with an enemy of greater or equal numbers, and instead using stratagems and ambushes. Worth noting is the emphasis on the psychological element. On two occasions the text indicates that military units should be composed of men linked by kinship and friendship, presumably to increase unit cohesion and readiness to fight and to assist in the identification of spies in the encampment, as they will stand out as outsiders. While other manuals mention the aid of God, and Maurice’s Strategikon mentions specific prayers, the religious element here is exceptionally strong. As the enemy draws near every man is to pray the “invincible prayer proper to Christians,” and the exact text of the prayer is provided. The subsequent advance is be undertaken calmly and without commotion or sound. Two additional prayer texts follow. When the army is encamped all the men are to observe Vespers and Matins scrupulously, repeating the Kyrie Eleeson as many as 100 times devoutly and tearfully. Anyone found failing to do so is to be demoted in rank and publicly humiliated.

The relation of the Praecepta to the tradition is complex. The author employs only one overt reference in noting that the Macedonian phalanx, sixteen, twelve or ten men deep, was appropriate when the enemy used elephants and wild beasts, as did the Ethiopians against Alexander the Great, but is no longer so and that even the Arab enemy have greatly reduced the depth of their formations. This example, of unknown origin, justifies the recommendation of contemporary formations seven men deep. Other possible references to concepts found in Homer, Plato and Onasander, noted by McGeer,³⁴ may be military topoi. Without question the author made significant use, with adjustments, of chapters of the Sylloge tacticorum. There are no illustrations, although McGeer has shown that the author was aware of the short pamphlet called the Syntaxis armatorum quadrata which includes a detailed diagram of the new infantry square, and the spare presentation, pedestrian style and narrow focus suggest a highly pragmatic purpose.³⁵

The treatise best known under the Latin title De velitatione (translated as Skirmishing³⁶ or as Le traité sur la guérilla³⁷) begins with the most extensive and personal preface of all the manuals, yet still leaves unclear the identity of the author. The writer indicates that he has served as a commander on both eastern and western fronts and that the method he will describe was perfected by Bardas Phokas, from whom he learned it; he has also used the method himself in the field. He says that he has made the method “a part of himself” and also indicates that he was told to commit the material to writing by Nikephoros Phokas. He does so with the comment that the method is not useful in the immediate situation because God has cut down the sons of Ishmael (the Arabs), but should be preserved should the need arise in the future.

The author says the he “won’t hesitate to record what he has observed” but also refers readers to Leo’s Taktika and twice to earlier “books on strategy and tactics.” He writes for a general, whom he addresses a number of times in the vocative. The enemy is referred to on a number of occasions as the “men of Tarsus” or the “emir’s formation,” as well as “the sons of Hagar.” The author sets the scene specifically, mentioning mountain passes in Seleukia and the theme of Anatolikon, the Taurus mountains, Germanikeia and Adata, regions beyond the Euphrates, etc. He uses only a few, but noteworthy examples. The recommendation to occupy narrow defiles and attack a retiring (and hence tired and burdened) enemy is exemplified by three defeats of Ali, son of Hamdan (two of these commanded by Leo Phokas, though he is not mentioned by name), said to be known to everyone. The recommendation to invade enemy territory when the enemy has invaded that of the Byzantines is supported by reference to Leo VI’s Taktika and to the example of the actions of Nikephoros Phokas the Elder against the Cilician Arabs (noted above), although there is considerably more detail here. The two examples offer further evidence for the author’s relationship to the Phokas family. On five occasions the author uses the term saka to describe enemy cavalry units. He expresses typical Byzantine distrust of Armenians in the Byzantine army, particularly on their reliability as sentries.

The focus, then, is on the eastern frontier with an emphasis on “shadowing” (paramone) the enemy from positions on higher ground and on using such signs as smoke, clouds of dust, tracks and the trampling down of the grass to find and follow the enemy and to estimate their numbers. Specific types of enemy incursions are described (small forays of cavalry, larger attacks with both cavalry and infantry, and full-scale expeditions) and the nature of the best response to each (reconnaissance, early warning, ambushes, use of narrow mountain passes). The text includes an emotional plea for bolstering morale through regular payment of salaries and exemption of land taxes for soldiers. He indicates that the general using his work must employ the recommendations flexibly in response to specific circumstances. The whole conveys the impression of a field officer with extensive experience and a strong belief in the preservation and transmission of hard-won knowledge.

The treatise De re militari,³⁸ also known as the Anonymous Vari after an early editor, can be dated after 970 based on internal evidence. While the author mentions twice the “Arabs and Turks” (i.e. Magyars) as the enemy, and twice operations in the land of the Hagarenes (Arabs), the primary focus is on the north-west frontier and Bulgaria, and the treatise was perhaps written “to complement the De velitatione.”³⁹ The author’s directly self-referential indications are few, but his comment “Experience has taught us about passing through the mountains and going along unfamiliar roads” indicates personal experience, as does his presentation. He places a strong emphasis on applications of arithmetic, such as determining the circumference of a camp based on the size of the army to stationing individual soldiers a meter apart within the camp. He is writing of a campaign being led by the emperor and directs his recommendations to both a general and to the emperor. It has been suggested plausibly, but not with certainty, that the emperor in question may be the young Basil II.⁴⁰

The topics include encampment in enemy territory, distribution of troops within the camp, watches, dual camps in constricted terrain, size of cavalry units, breaking camp safely, marching in enemy territory, best reactions to attacks on the camp and on the marching formation, water supplies, fording rivers, avoiding unnecessary baggage and people, armament, guides and scouts, mountain passes, siege warfare, training, muster rolls and daily duties. Among the details are the use of caltrops, of concealed pits with sharpened wooden stakes in them and of warning bells as part of camp defenses, and the logistical necessity of supplying the field army from the homeland, for example providing barley (the army itself can carry only a twenty-four-day supply) to an army in Bulgaria where “there is a total lack of necessities.” He indicates that assignments for the following day are to be provided in writing to the men who will be sent out.

On two occasions the author refers the reader to earlier literature. In recommending against ostentatious displays of gold and silver armor he indicates that “history books” show that the Greeks and Romans were “extremely plain in their … equipment and weapons,” but nonetheless victorious. In briefly listing siege machines he says that “in the books of the ancients” one will find this material in a fuller and more strategic fashion, and hence he has personally refrained from going into detail. His occasional examples are virtually all generic, “as was customary for the ancients,” “many armies have been destroyed by attacks of that kind at night,” “from ancient times commanders have made this clear” and perhaps most interesting “as it seemed best to the ancients and as our experience has proven to us.” The treatise preserves a series of illustrations of the encampment, one introduced in an interesting fashion. In describing details of the camp arrangement, the author comments “as the diagrammed narrative (diagrapheisa historia) presents more accurately and more clearly,” and later comments “as the diagram (diagramma) of the camp makes clear.”

The Taktika of Nikephoros Ouranos may be seen as the culmination of the interest in military science so prominent in the tenth century.⁴¹ This massive treatise, which has not been completely edited, is heavily dependent on the Taktika of Leo VI, the Praecepta militaria, the De re militari and classical tacticians, and has also been characterized as the “final product in the encyclopaedist movement in tenth-century Byzantium.”⁴² The author in this case is known from other sources, including his own writings. Ouranos served as an emissary to Baghdad for the emperor Basil II in the 980s, led the Byzantine army that defeated the Bulgarians at the Spercheios river in 997 and was appointed governor of Antioch beginning in 999. The composition of the Taktika has been dated to this period. In the absence of a full edition and the general dependence of the published portions of the text on the Praecepta militaria and De re militari, detailed analysis is not feasible. The paraphrases reflect some changes in vocabulary to more contemporary terms, occasional elaborations for clarity and direct addresses to a general. McGeer has observed that while Ouranos closely follows the tactics set forth in the Praecepta, indicating their continued relevance, he also included one significant change in infantry tactics (a new maneuver for reinforcing the front lines), showing his interest in matters of contemporary relevance.⁴³ McGeer has also noted that chapters 63–5 contain material which goes beyond the Praecepta and has argued cogently that in chapters 56–65 Ouranos was creating a kind of Praecepta militaria continuata, with minor modifications to battle tactics, and new material in chapters 63–5 to reflect new realities on the eastern frontier, namely the necessity of maintaining control of territory previously conquered in that area.⁴⁴ These new sections cover offensive raiding tactics, breaking camp and siege warfare, and include extensive descriptions of a siege shelter, new in the tenth century, termed laisa, mentioned also by the so-called “Heron of Byzantium.” Ouranos also provides instructions for a sapping operation, with detailed information on tunneling from a distance to the wall and on how to prop the roof of the tunnel to avoid collapse. Twice in this section he refers to the various devices employed by “the ancients” and asserts that his generation has tried many of these and concluded that a sapping operation is the most effective. This assertion based on empirical trial is one of the clearest in the manuals of an overt recommendation of contemporary practice against ancient. Ouranos presses his point in the concluding section of the chapter by indicating that while the ancients contrived many methods for conducting siege warfare, “I have set down only the methods that our generation currently employs,” referring “those eager to learn” to tactical treatises for what he has omitted.

The Byzantine military manuals resist easy summarization. They are often prescriptive in nature,⁴⁵ and frequently put their prescriptions in the form “it is necessary to do such and such,” although descriptions of both contemporary and earlier practice are also found. In many cases the prescriptions are reinforced by examples, often traditional, but sometimes contemporary. Those written by experienced military men for the most part have a more pragmatic character than those of “armchair strategists” whose works show greater reliance on the earlier tradition. In many cases diagrams and illustrations are presented as necessary to clarify the written text, most notably in the new approach of “Heron of Byzantium,” while in others they are completely absent. Even in the most traditional ones, contemporary issues and methods are presented. When these occur the authors are often apologetic about going beyond the received tradition, but in some cases firmly unapologetic. Notable also is the frequent insistence that the commander must use the prescriptions flexibly in light of actual circumstances. While perhaps a topos, the inherent cogency of the recommendation and its presence in practical as well as more literary texts suggests its aptness.

In his discussion of “Military Literature and the Profession of Arms,” McGeer has situated the manuals in relation to military exercises in training situations and to the inclusion of the sons of aristocrats and emperors as observers on military campaigns.⁴⁶ He notes with valuable examples the various uses to which the manuals were put in the tenth and eleventh centuries, from providing “intellectual cachet” in mastery of ancient theory and vocabulary as well as models of proper military conduct, to practical application for both prospective and active commanders. One such example, a comment from Psellos’ Chronographia that the emperor Basil II derived battle formations “some from handbooks … others by virtue of his own experience in reaction to the circumstances,” provides useful evidence for flexible implementation of prescriptions. Actual procedures followed by another emperor suggest a clearly intellectual approach to warfare: Herakleios, while away from Constantinople, is said to have written a letter detailing prescriptive measures to be taken in preparation for a siege defense, sketched battle plans and devised diagrams for siege machines; his battlefield tactics suggest a knowledge of Maurice’s Strategikon.⁴⁷ The manuals then might best be seen as multi-purposed in intent as well as in application.

NOTES

1 For more extensive surveys of the genre see Dain 1967; and Hunger 1978: II, 323–40 on “Kriegswissenschaft.” See also the articles on strategika and on the individual manuals in ODB.

2 Dagron and Mihescu 1986: 139–41.

3 Greatrex et al. 2005. I follow the published translations of the editions throughout unless otherwise noted or where no English translation exists.

4 Greatrex et al. 2005.

5 McGeer 1991: 134–5.

6 Dennis 1981; Dennis 1984; Rance (forthcoming).

7 Rance 2004: 268.

8 Zuckerman 1990.

9 Cosentino 2000.

10 Dennis 1985: 1–141.

11 Köchly 1856.

12 Pryor and Jeffreys 2006: 453–81.

13 Zuckerman 1990: 212–15

14 Zuckerman 1990: 215–16.

15 See Baldwin 1988, who allows the possibility that Syrianos is reproducing Asclepiodotus here, although noting that the Byzantines faced enemies with elephants in the sixth century and suggesting that the statement is evidence for a later date for the De re strategika. Zuckerman 1990: 217, followed by Cosentino 2000: 265, argues that Aelian was Syrianos’ sole source for this material and that he had not read Asclepiodotus.

16 Cosentino 2000: 279–80.

17 In PG 107: cols 671–1094. A new edition with English translation is in preparation by G. Dennis for publication by Dumbarton Oaks.

18 See Magdalino 1998.

19 Dagron and Mihescu 1986: 140.

20 Kolias 1984: 130.

21 Dagron and Mihescu 1986.

22 Tougher 1997b: 181–2.

23 Dagron and Mihescu 1986: 166.

24 Sullivan 2003.

25 Sullivan 2000.

26 Holmes 2001: 480.

27 Dain 1938.

28 McGeer 1995: 184.

29 McGeer 1995: 283–4.

30 Haldon 1990.

31 McGeer 1995: 3–78.

32 McGeer 1995: 172–81.

33 Cheynet 1997.

34 McGeer 1995: 183.

35 McGeer 1995: 258–9.

36 Dennis 1985: 144–239.

37 Dagron and Mihescu 1986.

38 Dennis 1985: 246–335.

39 McGeer in ODB: II, 612.

40 Dennis 1985: 242–3.

41 McGeer 1995: 66–167; McGeer 1991: 129.

42 Trombley 2006: 261.

43 McGeer 1991: 132.

44 McGeer 1991: 133–4.

45 Sullivan 1997.

46 McGeer 1995: 191–5.

47 Kaegi 2003: 135 and 115–17.