Preparing for battle

As we have seen in an earlier chapter, avoidance of battle was an integral part of Byzantine field strategy, both in the hit-and-run warfare of the frontier which characterized the eastern theatre until the middle of the tenth century, and in larger-scale campaigning. Until the odds were clearly in favour of the Byzantine commander and his forces the military handbooks stressed that combat should be avoided wherever possible. But while the sources often give reasonably detailed accounts of the course of a particular campaign, they very rarely offer any detail of battles, although they sometimes provide a few descriptive remarks on a particular event—as when, for example, the emperor Theophilos was cut off from his guards at the battle of Anzen, near Dazimon, in 838, and had to cut his way through the Turk horse archers of the enemy forces to make good his escape.38

The military treatises give us a good deal of information about the preparations to be made before battle was joined and the tactical ploys that were to be put into practice when various circumstances applied and in the context of fighting enemies of varying cultural and military-technological background. The extent to which these tactical prescriptions were actually applied at any given time is difficult to know, since chroniclers’ accounts of battles are not usually precise or clear enough to make the connection. But it has been shown that in the tenth and eleventh centuries at least the military treatises were indeed followed by a majority of commanders (and that it was assumed that they would be followed) in matters such as order of march, logistical arrangements, setting up and deploying out of marching camps, and so forth; it has also been shown that the tactics developed by Nikephros II in the 950s and 960s, accurately described in the so-called Military Precepts of that emperor, were followed by his subordinates and successors.39 On the other hand, much of the information about battle order in some of the treatises relates quite clearly to Roman or Hellenistic practice and theory, so that without corroborating information it is difficult to know to what extent Byzantine commanders actually employed the tactical formations which are described, and to what extent they merely used these collections as precedents and general guidelines. That they were indeed used and read quite widely, certainly in the tenth and eleventh centuries, there is no doubt. Ninth - and tenth-century emperors were advised to take some with them, although it is interesting that Roman manuals, rather than any contemporary works, are listed; Basil II is reported to have perfected his generalship and soldierly skills both through the perusal of such literature and personal experience; the writer and general Kekaumenos recommended their use explicitly, and in a typically Byzantine combination of reading matter: “When you have free time, and are not occupied with military affairs [or: the business of a general], read strategic works and books, histories and the books of the Church”, while the general John Doukas similarly is known to have been greatly interested in them. Andronikos Doukas, his son, is reported to have been equally well-read in such matters. Incidental evidence suggests that in many cases commanders attempted to compensate for the predictable confusion and slowness of communications in battle by drawing up appropriate battle plans in advance. Thus for the 1060s the emperor Romanos IV is reported by an eyewitness to have assembled his generals and gone over the battle plans before the confrontation at Mantzikert, tactical plans were discussed before the battle with the Hungarian forces in the campaign of 1167, and the emperor Michael IV’s expedition against the Bulgar rebels in 1040 is described as following the proper rules of strategy, advancing in the correct order, pitching camp according to the regulation method, and so on. In contrast, the same writer notes that another general failed to halt and take stock of the situation, or to draw up any battle plan at all, and was heavily defeated as a result.40

The preparations before battle are described in detail in several treatises, notably the Strategikon of Maurice, the Tactica of Leo VI and the Praecepta of Nikephros II, and while the measures are more or less the same—commonsense precautions, in fact—in all three cases, the Tactica of Leo follows its model the Strategikon very closely. The prerequisite for battle was an appropriately advantageous situation for the Romans, since it was assumed that battle would always be avoided where this had not been secured. Whether this lay in greater numbers, a superior position with adequate supplies, good defences, surprise or a combination of these elements depended upon the particular circumstances. But given these, then the commander was to make sure in the first instance that his lines of retreat were secure and that his camp could withstand an attack should his troops be driven back. This also involved ensuring in particular adequate water and forage for the horses, as well as the security of the camp during the battle.41 All the while, of course, scouts should be in constant visual contact with the enemy, preferably not being seen themselves, so that the commander was informed up to the last minute as to the enemy’s movements and possible intentions. When marching out to battle, scouts and light troops should be deployed ahead of the main body, the field of battle itself should be thoroughly reconnoitred for possible traps or ambushes, while he himself should select places appropriate to such actions should they be deemed necessary Cavalry troops should be accompanied by the minimum of baggage, and remounts should be taken only for a small number of men—the rest were to be left securely in the camp and under guard. Enough provisions should be taken for man and horse for the duration of the action, with a reserve in case some soldiers should become separated from their units. Spare weapons and arrows for bows should be taken on pack-animals and accompany the units to their first positions.42

Once these basic requirements had been met, the general should issue orders to the division and unit commanders about the coming action, and determine the order of march and the initial deployment. The treatises offer a variety of deployments for infantry divisions, for cavalry forces and for mixed armies, with recommendations as to when they should be employed, how the different elements were to be coordinated, where the commander should establish his position, and how the orders are to be communicated (by flag, horn or by messenger). Particular stress was placed on the maintenance of discipline if the enemy was driven back, so that no hasty pursuit should take place which might lead into an ambush. Equally, the tactic of false retreat or panic is described and the conditions suitable for its use, the preparations that needed to be taken beforehand and so forth. There are many examples in the sources, both of Roman troops employing a feigned retreat to ambush the enemy—as in Narses’ campaign in Italy in 553/4, for example, where 300 Roman troops defeat 2,000 Franks employing this tactic, or, as in 1070 and with less disciplined or inexperienced troops, units under Manuel Komnenos fighting the Seljuk Turks rashly pursued the apparently retreating enemy, only to fall into an ambush and be cut to pieces. The tactic is described particularly clearly by Leo the Deacon for the year 970, when the general Bardas Phocas, sent to face the Rus’ and their steppe allies, the Pechenegs, who had crossed the imperial frontier, realized he could not face such a large force directly. He devised a plan whereby one of his commanders, John Alkasseus, would march up to the Pecheneg division of the enemy force, appear to be taken by surprise, and fall back in feigned panic. Bardas had meanwhile laid an ambush, and when the Pecheneg forces fell into the trap they were completely routed.43

Following the model established by Hellenistic and Roman military writers, Byzantine military texts offer a full range of advice to the general. But in each of the three handbooks referred to—as well as in those which dealt less specifically with battlefield situations, such as the later tenth-century treatises on campaign organization or on skirmishing warfare—the contemporary situation is taken into account, sometimes in great detail. In all the theatres in which Roman forces were engaged, their tactics needed to take account of the different styles of fighting and tactical traditions of the peoples with whom they were dealing, and the Strategikon is eloquent testimony to the importance which Roman tactical thinking attached to understanding one’s enemy properly. The same sentiments were repeated in the Tactica of Leo VI and the later eleventh-century Strategikon of Kekaumenos. Both the Strategikon and Leo’s Tactica describe the tactics, customs and fighting styles of several barbarian peoples neighbouring the empire, for example, and although Leo again derives much of what he has to say from Maurice, he does attempt to update the information to take account of more recent developments. During the days preceding battle the commander should endeavour to collect and verify as much information as possible about enemy intentions, numbers and dispositions, through spies and scouts, enemy deserters and captured soldiers. Familiarity with the terrain was essential: only where it was favourable to the Roman forces should battle be offered.

Maurice’s Strategikon dealt in detail with four such peoples: the Persians, the “Scythians” (Avars, Turks and other Hunnish peoples), the “Light-Haired peoples” (Franks, Lombards and others) and the Slavs and Antes. In each case, a caricature of the cultural make up of the people or peoples in question opens the chapter, accompanied by a series of explanations for their behaviour and moral constitution which precedes the details of their tactical arrangements and usual battle formation. But each such description is accompanied by suggestions for the best ways with which to counter and defeat the enemy formation, and in both treatises, however much Leo depends upon his sixth-century exemplar, the need to know and to understand one’s enemy, and especially not to underestimate him, is quite clearly expressed. It has been observed, however, that although it is not the first treatise to note that the Romans should be familiar with the tactics of their enemies, the Strategikon is nevertheless the first to go into such detail, and this reflects in part the fact that the fighting methods in question had already become part of the late Roman tradition, and in part the fact that they reflected, so to speak, the two or three “models” of tactical and battlefield organization which the commander of a Roman army could opt to employ.44 Thereafter it is the treatise on guerrilla strategy and tactics which provides the most detailed account of how to deal with the enemy along the eastern front, while the manual on campaign organization describes warfare in the Balkans, although in this case enemy tactics are only discussed in terms of generalizations about not falling into ambushes, and related topics.45

Once battle was imminent, the troops were enjoined to remain as silent as possible while drawn up in their ranks—the idea being that the enemy would be unnerved by the utter silence and discipline of the Roman lines (that this was indeed practised on occasion is clear from a description given by Theophylact Simocatta of a battle fought between Romans with Persian allies against Persian rebel forces in 591). Leo’s Tactica maintains the same injunction.46 They had already had their standards blessed by the clergy accompanying the army, and may also have participated in holy liturgy to purify their souls and to pray for victory. The war cry had been shouted on leaving camp. According to Maurice’s Strategikon, clergy and officers were to shout “Kyrie eleeson” (Lord have mercy), and the men were to shout three times in response, unit by unit, “Deus nobiscum” (God with us), as they left the camp. Once drawn up in their positions, no unnecessary movements were to be undertaken, soldiers and subordinate officers were to await the orders to advance and be prepared to resist the enemy’s attack in the appropriate manner (according to whether it was by arrow, frontal assault or whatever). Only when they were on the point of clashing with enemy soldiers was the battle-cry to be shouted again, in an attempt to unnerve the enemy. In practice, of course, the use of a battle-cry or war chant depended very much on the circumstances—there are several examples of soldiers who, having secretly been able to surround an enemy force, were then encouraged before the attack to make the maximum noise in terms of both regular war cries, trumpet blasts and drum beats, and blood-curdling yells to terrify the enemy, especially if the Romans were fewer in number, and this is something which the treatises also recommend. Thus the smaller Roman force terrified the Paulician army encamped at Bathys Ryax before charging down from the surrounding hills to annihilate it in 878, while as his troops marched in dense line-of-battle order against the enemy, John Tzimiskes ordered a similar effect to cowe the Rus’ forces at Preslav in 970.47 Other war cries were also used, of course: for the battle in 878, the soldiers cried in unison “the Cross has conquered”. In the middle of the tenth century, the troops were instructed to utter a slightly different variant: “Lord Jesus Christ, our God, have mercy on us. Amen”.48 The extent to which these battle-cries were employed across the whole army is difficult to ascertain: particularly where non-Christian allies or mercenaries were involved, for example, or even more clearly in the case of Muslim auxiliaries or mercenaries (as in the later eleventh and twelfth centuries, when the empire employed considerable numbers of Turk soldiers), it is unlikely that the obviously Christian war cries were demanded from any but the indigenous Byzantine soldiers.

As we shall see, maintaining order even when the enemy had been defeated was regarded as essential, and numerous examples of defeats where the enemy had suddenly turned on a disorganized rabble of pursuing troops are found in the narrative histories. Equally, preventing troops from running off to sack the enemy camp or chase booty was a major concern. In both cases, severe punishments were prescribed for such dereliction of duty; the military treatises insist on these points repeatedly, as they insist upon the fair distribution of booty in an orderly manner after victory has been secured. Again, the historical accounts of the period provide examples (as they do also of the anger and mutinous response provoked by an unfair distribution of booty).49

THE ARMY AT WAR: COMBAT Battlefield formations and field tactics

The hallmark of Roman and Byzantine field tactics was the ordered line of battle—again and again both the military treatises and the narrative histories stress the impact of Roman order on the enemy host.50 The basic formation for Byzantine armies from the later sixth century onwards was, according to the military handbooks, a tripartite line—left, centre and right—with flank-guards and outflanking units on the left and right wings respectively, and with a second line and a third, reserve line, behind the front line. The general himself should have a small reserve attached to his person, which could be despatched as appropriate to strengthen the attack or the defence. Units could also be concealed behind the flank of the first or second line, both to cover these from an outflanking move or an ambush, as well as to sweep around the enemy’s line to take them in the rear. In the later sixth century, the relative strength of the different categories of unit was reflected in the depth of their line: thus the elite cavalry units of the Optimates had a depth of 5—7, those of the vexillationes and Illyrikianoi 7—8, whereas the regular cavalry were to be 10 deep. The distances between the lines, and at which the army should draw up to face the enemy, were multiples of the standard rule-of-thumb measure on the battlefield, the bowshot (up to about 120 m in respect of aimed penetrative range, up to 330 m for maximum carry).51

The extent to which these precise tactical distinctions were maintained after the middle of the seventh century is impossible to say. The merits of having more than one battle line continued to be recognized, and they were not just tactical: the fear that the front line might turn and run was ever present, and Byzantine treatises clearly took this into account when describing the various formations a commander might employ. But it is equally apparent from Leo’s Tactica, as well as from later writers, that the Byzantine battle order for cavalry, consisting of two clearly separated lines which could strike the enemy’s front in succession, was regarded as an essential element in the Roman potential for victory, and clearly differentiated the imperial forces from their opponents. Given that many units, relocated in their new bases in Asia Minor from the later 630s, retained their unit identity well into the tenth and even eleventh century, it seems entirely possible that the older tactical traditions also survived, since the unit organization of the sixth century reflected precisely this type of battle order. An obvious advantage of the clearly separated double battle line was that if the army had to fall back the van could face about to keep the enemy at bay or counter-attack, while the rear could face about to ward off outflanking attacks by an enemy force. This is exactly what seems to have been intended by Romanos IV as he ordered the withdrawal of his double battle line at Mantzikert (in a description which closely parallels the account of the march in battle order in the sixth-century Strategikon); the failure was a result of the second line continuing to retreat when the first line halted to counter-attack. A similar formation appears to have been employed by Alexios I in 1078 at the battle of Kalvrytai. The continuity of this double-line tradition in Byzantine

Practice, reinforced perhaps by the advice of the military handbooks as well as by custom, is very likely.52

Both the Strategikon and the later Tactica of Leo provide descriptions and advice on standard battle formations for both infantry and cavalry. The Strategikon reflects already a shift in Roman battle tactics as the empire responded to the influence of the Avars and other nomad peoples it had had to face during the later sixth century, noting that the greater the degree of subdivision of the various units, the more flexible the battle formation. The “older military writers”, it is reported, emphasized this; yet the writer notes also that the Avars and Turks “do not draw themselves in one battle line only, as do the Romans and Persians, staking the fate of tens of thousands of horsemen on a single throw. But they form two, sometimes even three lines, distributing the units in depth.”53 The Strategikon stresses that cavalry commanders should approach battle in a more sophisticated way. It prescribes a variety of basic formations, depending upon numbers, designed to meet various eventualities in the field. In each case, two battle lines are ordained, the first line with outflankers on the right and flank guards on the left, and with a third line made up of the baggage train, reserve horses and two bodies of rearguards behind the flanks.54

The extent to which this description marks a real change in tactics is difficult to assess. There is no reason to doubt that, whatever their tactical administrative structure, Roman forces will always have been drawn up in such a way as to provide flank guards, a reserve or rearguard, and the main battle line, normally divided into left, centre and right. But the fact that it is explicitly remarked that the Romans (at least in the context of fighting the Persians) drew their forces up in an undifferentiated line receives partial support from the much earlier work of Vegetius, who describes the Roman main battle line without distinguishing any clearly differentiated tactical (cohort) subdivisions within it.55 This probably reflects a general tendency in Roman warfare when facing foes such as the Persians in the east, who similarly drew their forces up in a single body (as described in the Strategikon), especially in respect of cavalry armies of lancers such as those deployed at an earlier date by the Sarmatians and later the Goths as well as the Persians. The only concession to a second battle line in Vegetius is his reference to a reserve, behind the main line, near the wings and centre. But this is clearly intended only as a reserve, as an element that can be committed defensively to fill gaps in the Roman line, or offensively when the battle is already turning in favour of the Romans.56

Accounts of battles in the Histories of Theophylact Simocatta, for example, describing the wars of the last quarter of the sixth century, are usually too vague to be of help, although the description of a great Roman victory over the Persian king Chosroes I in 574 suggests that it was the depth of the main battle line which won the day for the Romans and thus that both armies deployed in a single line. Similarly at the battle of Solachon in 586 the Roman and Persian forces are clearly described as being arrayed in three divisions organized in a single battle line. Another account of the preparations for battle against the Avars in 598 likewise suggests that the Roman forces, while divided into left and right wings and centre with baggage train behind (and probably small units of men behind the flanks to cover against enemy outflanking movements), had no separate rearguard or second line.57 But Theophylact’s descriptions are heavily rhetorical, and it is very difficult to know whether any reliance can be placed upon them. From the earlier reports of Procopius of Caesarea and Agathias, however, it seems that Roman armies were regularly drawn up in a single main battle line, with only a small reserve posted with the commander, although with flank-guards and outflankers on the wings. Such appears to have been the case in Narses’ victory over the Goths at the battle of Taginae/Busta Gallorum in 552, and also at a battle on the Volturno river in 554 when a single battle line, with the usual centre and wings, was made up of troops arrayed in a fairly deep formation, the ranks armed differently according to their position in the line and their armament. In this battle, Narses also held back two small reserves behind the wings to outflank the Frankish forces. Again, the account is confused, but does seem to reflect a standard practice, and the description here matches closely that given in the earlier treatise of Vegetius.58 Ammianus’ accounts of the battles of Strasbourg in 357, fought by the later emperor Julian against the Alamanni, and of Adrianople in 378, when the Goths defeated and killed the emperor Valens, suggest that little had changed. In both cases, the Roman forces were drawn up in one main battle line—infantry in the centre and cavalry on the wings with a reserve behind.59

The single Roman main battle line appears to have evolved from the third and fourth centuries in response both to the conditions which evolved in the civil wars of the third century, and to the increasing pressure and numbers of barbarian attacks. It seems to have involved the drawing closer together of the tactical sub-units of the legions, the cohorts, and the redistribution of the various specialized elements from a cohort-based to a linear arrangement. It is almost certain that different commanders will have drawn up their forces differently according to the situation and the nature of the enemy, so that it would be dangerous to generalize. The description given by Vegetius, however, drawn from several Roman sources, and reflected in both the second-century military writer Arrian and the fourth-century Ammianus, does make it fairly clear that the tactical divisions within the legions no longer took the form of a division on the basis of cohorts, as in his “ancient” legion,60 but on the basis of a dense linear formation: heavily armed and protected soldiers in the first rank, with archers and other troops equipped with missiles behind them, and a further rank of experienced and armoured soldiers behind them. This gives a standard formation drawn up six deep, with six feet between each rank. Cavalry were posted to the rear and on the wings, and flank-guards were held behind the wings for defensive or offensive movement.61 Cavalry formations appear to have been arranged in the same manner—separate centre and flank divisions organized in an extended line up to eight deep, with no second line to follow up and with minimal reserves.62

This arrangement, as long as it was properly covered on the flanks, and with the baggage and spare mounts drawn up in the rear with a small rearguard, appears to have been the standard line-of-battle formation employed in the wars against the various Germanic peoples in the west and the Persians in the east, judging from the comments in the Strategikon. The latter, however, is speaking in particular about cavalry formations drawn up in a single deep line, and it is this tactic especially which the author suggests should be abandoned in favour of a more flexible, if less dense, array. As the text makes clear, this was chiefly to enable Roman armies more effectively to oppose their steppe enemies the Avars, whose battle array was similarly broken up (by clan and kinship groups) and was clearly perceived to be much better as a result (see Fig. 6.1).

Tactics and the thematic armies

The evidence for the pre-eminence of cavalry in the period from the middle of the seventh century onwards is, as we have seen, persuasive: the fact that the provincial armies are sometimes referred to as “the cavalry armies” (ta kaballarika themata) is itself indicative. There is no reason to doubt that there continued to be substantial infantry elements in each thematic army, but they remain more or less invisible in the sources, presumably employed as garrisons, frontier and fortress guards and so on. The Tactica of Leo assumes that the army confronting the Arabs along the frontiers will usually be of cavalry. Where infantry are present, they are used both to shield the cavalry in the opening phases of battle as well as to complement the cavalry in attacking a defended position.63 But the effectiveness of infantry and cavalry clearly depended as much upon discipline and a workable command structure as it did upon weapons and mounts or esprit de corps. And it seems that it was discipline in particular which suffered in the East Roman army during much of the period from the seventh to the tenth centuries—indicative is the fact that the Tactica of Leo recommends that dismounted cavalry troopers should not have their horses tethered too close in case they panic and abandon their position in the line for their horses, and that the commander should take care to reinterpret in a positive light any signs and portents circulating in the camp which may lead to the demoralization of the soldiers. By the same token, the Tactica notes that brave soldiers often die precisely because they do not obey their officers, and rush to attack the enemy without order.64

Order, discipline and the coherence these generated, reliance on collective effect rather than on individual prowess, these were the characteristics which the Byzantines considered differentiated them and their methods of waging war from their enemies. The tactical infrastructures described in Chapter 4 above were an essential element in this: right up until the end of the empire units were organized into subdivisions placed under junior officers in a chain of command which made the coherent management of often very disparate forces at least feasible—an essential in such a multi-ethnic army. Such qualities as discipline and order are frequently repeated in all the military treatises, and they are alluded to also implicitly as well as explicitly in some of the narrative histories. The differences between Byzantine order and discipline and Frankish haste and indiscipline, for example, described in the Strategikon of Maurice and repeated by Anna Komnene in the early twelfth century, typifies this perspective. In reality the Frankish leaders of the twelfth century were often able tacticians who outwitted the supposedly more subtle Byzantines; and as will become clear, the mere existence of a military disciplinary code and the assumption of Roman discipline is no proof that such discipline was always enforced, or indeed enforceable: context and the quality of leadership were crucially important prerequisites for effective discipline. But while the Byzantine view of themselves and their enemies was laden with value judgements, it nevertheless indicates the centrality of military discipline and Roman tradition in Byzantine military thinking.65

It is notable, to begin with, that Byzantine armies confronted Arab forces in the field on only relatively few occasions between c. 640 and 680. That this reflected deliberate strategic thinking—and then custom or habit—is very probable, but it may also reflect tactical advantages held by the Arab armies, in particular the greater use of infantry archers (but who travelled on horse or camel along with the cavalry). Whether the fact that avoidance of battle appears to have been the norm between the years 640 and 680 is merely a reflection of partial sources is impossible to say. They certainly recount hardly any open encounters between the two sides in these years. Byzantine successes were limited to the recovery of fortresses in Anatolia or along the Taurus occupied by the Arabs (such as Amorion, taken in 669 and recovered during the winter of the same year), to the ambush and defeat of one of the Arab columns involved in the attacks on Constantinople between 674 and 678 (probably in the last year of the “siege”), and to the successful defence of Constantinople itself during this period.66

After this date, and the brief period of Byzantine offensive action in the 680s and early 690s (exploiting the internal troubles within the caliphate), imperial armies registered some limited successes, but were clearly barely holding their own. Against the Slavs in the Balkans in 687/8 and, in Cilicia, against the limited garrisons which had been left to defend the region during the involvement of the caliph’s forces in Iraq, imperial armies were able to win some victories. Yet the defeat at the hands of the numerically inferior Bulgars in 678/9 implies significant weaknesses in the imperial field armies. In 691/2 a major battle was fought near Sebastoupolis in Armenia II between the combined field armies with conscripted Slav infantry and an Arab invasion force, and although the battle went at first in the Byzantines’ favour, the desertion of the Slavs brought disaster and rout to the imperial forces.67 A series of notable successes was achieved by Herakleios, brother of the emperor Tiberios Apsimar (698—705) in the years between 697/8 and 702/3, who was appointed to the position of monostrategos, commander of all the frontier cavalry

Divisions in Cappadocia, and who was thus able to coordinate the efforts of local forces from the armies of Anatolikon and probably from other themata. Thereafter, Arab raids and incursions recommence on a regular basis, accompanied once again by the Byzantine policy of avoidance until well after the defeat of the great siege of Constantinople in 717/18. Only gradually did the imperial forces begin to face up to invading Arab troops. The success of Herakleios may suggest that it was primarily the command structure and the nature of the military leadership that was to blame for the failures to contain Arab raiders effectively, rather than the fighting capabilities of the troops.68

The policy of avoidance which appears to mark the years 640—80 reflects, in all likelihood, both the bitter experiences of the war against the Arabs in Syria and Palestine in the 630s (and Heraclius’ order to avoid open battle: see Chapter 3 above), as well as the strategic difficulties of covering the long frontier. The imperial forces relied upon their fortified centres behind the Taurus/Anti-Taurus, none of which was taken and held permanently by the Arabs, and upon the policy of harassing and ambushing enemy troops as they withdrew. It may often have been encouraged by an imbalance in numbers, and low morale may have played a role: the frequent defeats meted out to the Roman forces in Italy by the Gothic leader Totila after Belisarius’ recall certainly had this effect, as Belisarius himself is reported to have noted in a letter to the emperor. At the same time, what was perceived as the political deterioration of the empire promoted a certain amount of discontent among the different provincial armies and their officers, so that the period from c. 695 to after the accession of Leo III in 717 was one of frequent coups d’etat involving thematic units.69

Those successes which were achieved often resulted from the involvement of the imperial government, for example when Herakleios was appointed as monostrategos, as noted already, or when the emperors Leo III and Constantine V themselves led counter-attacks against a substantial Arab army which entered Roman territory in 739/40 and split up into three columns, defeating one of them. When local troops were successful, the limited evidence suggests that it was because they were able to ambush and cut off the invading forces rather than face them in open battle (as in the defeat of an Arab force in 677/8 referred to already).

One of the effects of this strategy was, however, to deprive many imperial field units of any formal or regular line-of-battle experience for more than a generation. And where this was the case, it must in turn have had fairly dramatic consequences for field discipline, battle training, the ability to carry out manoeuvres while under attack, and so forth. It is entirely probable that a further consequence was the disappearance of any semblance of consistency in the arming and equipping of the soldiers. There is very little evidence to go on, but when an official text of the eighth century refers to the provincial cavalry soldier as possessing a horse, weapons and, perhaps, a lorikion (mail shirt or equivalent), it is clear that considerable variations in both equipment and financial situation existed among the soldiers.70 Other evidence for the later eighth and ninth centuries suggests that the general standard of equipment and armament in the seasonally mustered provincial armies was not high, and increasingly the core units of the themata are mentioned as the most important elements. The field armies of the late Roman period had thus been transformed into a provincial militia. Leo’s Tactica recommends that the general should train and exercise the troops into a warlike state during winter months or other times whenever an opportunity presented itself, suggesting that these were the only times at his disposal in this seasonal campaigning tradition (in contrast to passages in the Strategikon, where the winter camp is the time for re-equipping the troops, but where military exercises should take place on a constant and regular basis). Ninth-century hagiographies show that the adnoumion, or muster, following which some training and drilling would take place, occurred on a yearly basis, and this also remained true of the ordinary thematic contingents in the tenth century, although even this muster fell into desuetude with the increase in emphasis on full-time and mercenary units.71 How rapidly this transformation occurred is impossible to say with certainty, but the establishment of a full-time standing force in the 760s by Constantine V suggests the point at which the emperors took action to address the problem.

It is not always easy to say from the vague accounts in the sources whether indiscipline was the fault of the soldiers or their officers. During a campaign against the Bulgars in 707/8, for example, the cavalry themata suffered a defeat because they failed to set piquets and guard the camp carefully, and were caught by surprise while scattered to collect forage for the horses. This was most probably the fault of the officer commanding. In the same year, a disorganized Byzantine attack on an invading Arab force was defeated with losses. In 788/9 the strategos of Thrace, Philetos, failed to take adequate precautions during a campaign along the Strymon and was ambushed, losing his own life in the defeat. Theophanes records that Constantine VI was defeated when he engaged the Bulgar forces at Markehai in 791/2 because he attacked “without plan or order”, suggesting that the opposite was generally the case.72 In 808/9 the Bulgars were able to surprise the Byzantine forces of several themata on the Strymon and capture the salaries of the armies, 1,100 pounds in gold coin, which had just been delivered. The fact that the officers in question later asked the emperor’s pardon strongly suggests that it was their incompetence which was responsible. In the 880s the general in charge of a hitherto successful thematic field army on campaign against Tarsos failed to cover his advance with forward scouts and failed to entrench his camp and set a proper watch, with the result that his forces were surprised and routed, he himself being killed in the attack.

It is clear from these examples that in the normal run of things Byzantine armies advanced to fight in regular divisions and ordered lines of battle, and were both reasonably well-disciplined, and superior in numbers and equipment to the Bulgars: in 795/6 the Bulgar forces withdrew through the woods when confronted by the Byzantine forces in full battle array led by Constantine VI, and it was clearly widely recognized by the Byzantine officers and soldiers that they would normally defeat the Bulgars on open ground—most Byzantine defeats occurred when the imperial forces were either caught off guard, as noted already, or boxed in one of the defiles through the mountains when attempting to enter or leave the Bulgar heartland. The catastrophe of 811, when the forces of Nikephros I were caught in such a situation, as well as in inadequately defended or guarded encampments, is unusual only in its magnitude. The battle of Versinikia in 813, fought in the open where the Romans’ order and discipline gave them an initial advantage, was clearly expected by the officers present to result in an imperial victory until, as the result (apparently) of a plot, a division of the army withdrew (in fact, pretended to flee) under the eyes of a smaller Bulgar force, leading to a real rout of the remaining units. Moreover, as the consequence of petty jealousies between the two commanding officers of imperial forces in southern Italy in the 880s, a Byzantine force which was actually winning the battle was forced to abandon the field when one commander failed adequately to support his colleague whose troops were being pushed back by a fierce enemy attack. Before the battle of Acheloos in 917, the field army of tagmata and themata was drawn up in order, unit by unit, prior to advancing against the Bulgar forces. An orderly line of battle and the clear division of the army into independent corps consisting of several smaller divisions are attested throughout, and clearly continued to be the basis upon which Byzantine armies were disposed for battle, however able the commanders were.73

Examples of indiscipline among the soldiers in battlefield contexts (as opposed to soldiers’ activities in rebellions or attempted coups) are rarely mentioned in the sources. The state of the army’s morale in general was always a cause for concern: the Strategikon of Maurice, followed by Leo’s Tactica, advises that acts of insubordination or indiscipline immediately preceding a battle should be ignored by the officers in case the troops should be demoralized or alienated by the usual punishment. This tells us two things. In the first place, it suggests that discipline was indeed enforced by punishment, although whether of the severity or consistency described in the various versions of the so-called “military laws” is unclear. But it also tells us that the morale of the armies could be fairly fragile, and that commanders needed to pay considerable attention to the psychological state of their soldiers. We have already alluded to this question above. Armies could panic for a number of reasons, and Maurice’s/Leo’s advice makes it clear that Byzantine officers were aware of the fact. They could also refuse to fight, and certainly complained and grumbled when ordered to carry out unpopular tasks. In 813, when Michael I (811—13) transferred thematic troops from Anatolia to Thrace preparatory to fighting the Bulgars, the eastern soldiers complained vociferously about the unseasonably early move and were thereafter easily manipulated by certain officers not to cooperate with the emperor’s orders.74

As far as the evidence permits us to draw any conclusions about battlefield tactics in the period up to the tenth century, therefore, we may say with some confidence that heavy infantry generally played a secondary role, that the

(c) flankguard (f) rearguard

(a) light cavalry screen (b) first line

(d) outflankers  (e) second line (with gaps covered)

(g) remounts  (h) baggage

Figure 6.1 Tactical deployment of cavalry field army r. 600.

Provincial cavalry were, for the most part, light-armed lancers consisting of a core of more or less permanent and better armed and trained units supported by an irregular militia, and that with the establishment of a central elite force at Constantinople in the second half of the reign of Constantine V, these provincial armies would frequently have been strengthened by the presence of (probably) heavier cavalry. In ninth-century defeats, for example, it was frequently only the tagmata which held their position when other (thematic) units began to retreat or break up, and by the same token, a retreat of tagmatic units seems often to have sown panic among the provincial forces. As the empire adopted a more aggressive posture, especially from the middle of the ninth century, so increasing numbers of indigenous and foreign mercenary units—tagmata—appeared to further bolster the “professional” element in the provincial and especially the central field armies: as we have noted in Chapter 3 above, such units were recruited, either permanently or for the duration of a particular campaign, by most of the emperors of the ninth century. We may assume that discipline and training among the permanent forces would have been reasonably good, less so among the seasonal troops. Leo’s Tactica makes this very clear: in noting that the selected cavalry force of a thema usually numbers only 4,000 (if possible), he remarks that this is “on account of the lack of drill, neglect and fewness of the soldiers which currently prevails”.

(a) light cavalry screen (500  men) (b) ambush (2x200 men) (c) first line (1,000 men, general, retinue of 100)

(d) flankguard (200 men)  (e) outflankers (200 men) (f) second line (1,000 men+100 to cover gaps)

(g) rearguard (2x200 men)  (h) baggage (i) general

Figure 6.2 Tactical deployment of a thematic cavalry force of 4,000 men c. 900.

These 4,000 make up the real army (Leo calls it the “military division”— stratiotikon thema); the rest of the registered “soldiers” from the thema (now used in the sense of administrative province) should be assigned to other, less demanding tasks. This clearly includes the infantry (see Figures 6.1 and 6.2).75

The question of archery

One of the obvious results of the warfare and strategy pursued by the empire over this period, and a reflection of the tactics and fighting techniques of its enemies, however, seems to have been a real decline in effective mounted archery. Archery is a skill requiring constant practice, training and exercise, mounted archery even more so, as something not found naturally among most sedentary societies. It is notable that the great majority of archer units, both foot and horse, in the Roman army before the fourth century were from allied peoples or in auxiliary units drawn from regions where an established tradition of archery existed. Otherwise it has to be maintained through deliberately fostered training—as in the case of the archer-cavalry men of the sixth century, and as explained and described in detail in the Strategikon of Maurice, or in the mid-sixth-century anonymous treatise on strategy. It is notable, for example, that the Roman archers of the sixth century were taught the Hunnic or steppe release using the thumb together with the index and middle fingers, rather than the Mediterranean release employing the first three fingers, although both releases were clearly known: the Strategikon states that archers could shoot using either the Roman (i. e. the Hunnic) or the Persian method. It is likely that unless the Hunnic draw were specifically maintained and practised, it would fall out of use and be replaced by the culturally more usual release. It is not mentioned specifically in the tenth-century treatises, and the Tactica of Leo, in paraphrasing this section from the Strategikon, omits this detail, but the fact that Leo the Deacon, commenting upon the training imposed upon his soldiers by Nikephros Phocas, remarks that Nikephros taught his soldiers “to draw the arrow to the chest” suggests that in all probability it was the Mediterranean release which had reasserted itself.76 One of the advantages competent archery brought the Roman armies against the Goths in Italy or the Vandals in Africa, for example, was the ability to wear down and harass the enemy force from a distance before allowing the main battle lines to meet, an advantage noted on several occasions by Procopius. Against the Persians, who used massed archer formations, it at least gave the Roman forces the possibility of replying in kind to the same tactic used against themselves. While against highly mobile steppe peoples, such as the Avars, going into battle without adequate mounted archery in particular would have left the Romans at a permanent disadvantage in most situations.77

The armies of the early Islamic conquests seem to have included substantial numbers of foot archers, and their effectiveness, aided by the high degree of mobility and flexibility of their armies in the early conquests, seems to have been a key factor in their victories against Roman and Sassanid forces. At the battle of the Yarmuk in 636, during the opening phases of which the Muslim forces held prepared defensive positions, it may have been archery which broke up Roman efforts to dislodge them.78 In contrast, we may reasonably suspect that the numbers of effective mounted archer/lancer units in the Roman army was never great, and that the commanders of the various field divisions were able to maintain a high level of efficiency and competence only with great difficulty and constant attention to the issue. There is no evidence that archery played any significant role on the Byzantine side against the Islamic conquerors in the 630s. This is not to say that the Byzantines abandoned archery altogether: there must always have been some mounted archers, and the provincial infantry troops probably included substantial numbers of men equipped with bows. Leo’s Tactica and the mid-tenth-century Sylloge taktikon assume, following almost exactly the description in the Strategikon of Maurice, that the cavalryman has a bow, quiver and arrows, which probably can be taken to mean that many cavalry soldiers were indeed so equipped. Yet the treatise on skirmishing has the cavalry dismount to use their missile weapons, and assumes that each trooper will muster with his preferred weapons, suggesting that the bow was by no means universally present.79

The limited evidence from other Byzantine sources—casual references to soldiers’ equipment in non-technical texts—ignores archery almost entirely: the standard panoply was lance, sword, helmet and shield alone. And the evidence from both the Balkans and the eastern theatres in the later seventh century and after suggests that the empire’s enemies relied upon exactly the same weaponry, with minor variations. The sources mention the sling as often as they mention the bow (as when, in 811, the emperor Nikephros I marched against the Bulgars with the cavalry themata and a mass of peasant conscripts equipped with clubs and slings only).80

In contrast, that the Byzantines experienced great difficulties when confronted by effective archery is evident from the account of the victory of the Muslim forces over the emperor Theophilos in 838 at the battle of Anzen (near Dazimon), when one source at least notes that the Romans were sorely afflicted by the horse-archery and tactics of the Turk contingent. By the time the emperor Leo VI commissioned his Tactica, the situation does not seem to have greatly improved: he notes the complete decline in Roman archery, and the defeats which were a result, and commends that all Roman recruits practise with the bow. The mounted lancer/archer he describes is taken directly from the sixth-century Strategikon, and while it certainly represents some cavalry troops of his own time, is unlikely to have reflected the generality in the provincial armies.81

The result of these considerations is that the Byzantine composite lancer/ horse archer is probably something of a myth.82 When archery once more appears to be an important element in the imperial forces, it is clear that tenth-century emperors attempted not to reintroduce the composite archer-lancer, but rather to establish and promote more effective bodies of infantry archers, a development which goes hand in hand with the general revival of interest and importance attached to infantry in general from the 940s and 950s on. They also recruited increasing numbers of mercenary soldiers from a variety of neighbouring peoples, including Magyars and other steppe peoples to the north, adepts at mounted archery. Indigenous units certainly included lancers equipped with bows, both in the provinces and in the elite forces based in and around Constantinople: a tenth-century letter refers to the panoply of a cavalryman in the themata as consisting of horse, bow and quiver, and helmet. Preparations for the equipping of archers were undertaken before the expedition against the Syrian coast and Crete in 910—11: an official record notes that 500 mercenary soldiers, who knew how to handle the bow, were to be recruited from the Anatolikon region. The document states that cavalrymen would be preferable. In the late tenth-century treatises, although it is clear that archers were an integral element in the field army, they were by no means predominant. Nikephros Ouranos specifies that approximately one-third of the infantry should be lightarmed archers, in the light cavalry, the proportion varied from one-third to one-quarter according to tactical dispositions, and in the regular cavalry the proportion of mounted archers was about 40 per cent.83

While mounted archers were thus a significant element, they did not represent the standard Byzantine cavalry soldier, who was reflected rather in the lancers of the provinces. Further, they seem often to have dismounted to use their bows, as the treatise on skirmishing warfare, harking back to earlier practice, also implies. Mounted archery never became a dominant element in the Byzantine army, and was provided for the most part by foreign contingents who were recruited specifically to provide it. Even in the 930s Byzantine forces could be defeated by armies of mounted archers although, as in the sixth century, the intelligent deployment of Byzantine mounted and foot archery against non-archers was usually effective.84 And the longer-term results were to be seen in the middle of the eleventh century, when the Pechenegs and then the Seljuks were able (although not very often) to break up Byzantine battle formations using traditional nomad tactics. The imperial response was to increase the number of such troops they themselves employed, either hiring them directly as mercenaries or, as in the case of the Pechenegs, having defeated them, adopting them en masse under an obligation to serve in the imperial forces on a regular basis. The only evidence for the development of a tactical formation to deal specifically with such archery comes from Anna Comnena’s account of an oblique line of battle evolved by her father in the early twelfth century, involving also an infantry square for the march, and probably returning to an earlier tactical formation of the pre-Mantzikert period.85