As for experience, it can be seen to favour now one party in the dispute now the other. What happened to Pyrrhus in the battle waged against the consul Levinus in Italy can be cited by us on either side: by deciding to disguise himself under the armour of Demogacles and to give him his he undoubtedly saved his life; but he all but fell into the other disadvantage: that of losing the day.8 [C] Alexander, Caesar and Lucullus liked to stand out on the battlefield in their rich equipment and armour, with their own particular colour gleaming: Agis, Agesilaus and the mighty Gylippus on the other hand went to war in dark colours, not dressed like the man in command.
[A] Among other things which were held against Pompey at the battle of Pharsalia was his bringing his army to a firm halt and awaiting the enemy. ‘That is because’ (and here I will steal the very words of Plutarch, which are worth more than my own) ‘such tactics reduce the ferocious power which the act of charging gives to the opening blows and also removes that shock of combatant against combatant which, more than anything else, regularly fills soldiers with a furious madness as they stoutly dash at each other, their shouts as they run giving them more heart; the other tactics can be said to dampen their ardour and to chill it.’ That is what Plutarch says on the subject.9
But supposing Caesar had lost; could not anyone just as easily have asserted the contrary: that the most effective and most firm posture is to stand stock still; that whoever comes to a halt, sparing his energy for when needed and storing it up in himself, has a great advantage over the man in motion who has already used up half his breath in the charge. An army, moreover, being made up of many different individuals, it is not possible for it to manoeuvre so accurately during the frenzy of battle that its ranks be not weakened or broken, the more agile soldier already at grips with the enemy before his comrade can come to his support.
[C] In that ignoble battle between two Persian brothers,10 Clearchus of Sparta who commanded the Greeks on the side of Cyrus led them to make a controlled and unhurried advance; then, when fifty yards away, he ordered his men to advance at the run, hoping that such a short distance would spare their breath and maintain their ranks while giving them the advantage of impulse both for their bodies and their javelins.
[A] In their own armies others have resolved that dilemma this way: if the enemy charges, stand firm; if he stands firm, charge.
During the invasion of Provence by the Emperor Charles V King Francis was able to choose between going to confront him in Italy or waiting for him in his own territory.11 And although he took into consideration what an advantage it is to keep the homeland clean, unsullied by the tumult of war, so that with its resources intact it can go on furnishing treasure and succour when needed; although he considered that the exigencies of war constantly oblige armies to lay waste, something which cannot be easily done in one’s own lands, the peasants moreover not putting up with such devastation so patiently when done by their own side rather than the enemy, so that it is easy to kindle seditious disturbances among us; that permission to rob and to pillage cannot be allowed in one’s own country, yet is a great compensation for the hardship of fighting; that it is difficult to keep a man to his duty when he has nothing to hope for but his pay and is only a few yards away from wife and hearth; that he who orders the dinner pays the bill; that there is more joy in attack than in defence; that the shock of losing a battle within the guts of our land is so violent that it is hard to stop it shaking the whole body, seeing that there is no passion so contagious as fear nor caught so easily by hearsay nor spread so quickly; and that, when towns have heard the crashing of such storms at their very gates and let in their own officers and soldiers still quivering and breathless, there is a risk of that the townsfolk may in the heat of the moment leap to some evil decision: nevertheless King Francis chose to recall his transalpine forces and to watch the enemy approach.
For he may have thought, on the contrary, that being at home among people who loved him, he could not fail to have plenty of supplies (the rivers and passes being devoted to him would bring him provisions and treasure in complete safety without need of escort); that his subjects would be all the more loyal to him for having the danger nearer at hand; that, having so many towns and fortified places to rely on, it was for him to order the fighting when it was opportune and advantageous to himself; that if he decided to play for time, he could stay comfortably at ease and watch his enemy hanging about and defeating himself in his battle against hardships, caught in a hostile land where everything was at war with him in front, at his rear and on his flanks, with no means of resting his army nor of segregating his soldiers when illness came among them nor of sheltering his wounded; no money, no provisions save at lance-point; no time for repose and to get back his breath; no knowledge of the terrain or of the countryside which could save him from ambush and surprise attacks; and if it did come to a defeat, no means of saving the survivors.
And there was no lack of examples on either side.
Scipio found it wiser to go and assault the lands of his enemy in Africa than to defend his own and fight in Italy where he was; things turned out well in his case. But Hannibal, on the contrary, in that very war, ruined his chances by giving up his conquest of a foreign land to go and defend his own.
The Athenians left the enemy in their own lands and crossed over to Sicily: Fortune went against them; yet Agathocles, King of Syracuse, found Fortune favourable when he crossed into Africa leaving war at home.
And so as we often say, rightly, events and their outcomes depend, especially in war, mainly on Fortune, who will not submit to our reasoning nor be subject to our foresight – as these lines put it:
Et male consultis pretium est: prudentia fallax,
Nec fortuna probat causas sequiturque merentes;
Sed vaga per cunctos nullo discrimine fertur;
Scilicet est aliud quod nos cogatque regatque
Majus, et in proprias ducat mortalia leges.
[Badly conceived projects are rewarded; foresight fails, for Fortune does not examine causes nor follow merit but meanders through everything without distinction. Clearly there is Something greater which drives and controls us and subjects the concerns of men to laws of its own.]12
But it seems, if you take it aright, that our counsels and decisions too depend just as much on Fortune and that she [C] involves in her turbulence and uncertainty even our reasoning. ‘We argue rashly and unadvisedly,’ says Timaeus in Plato, ‘because in our reasoning as in ourselves, a great part is played by chance.’13
48. On war-horses
[Montaigne, as a gentleman who loved riding and enjoyed soldiering, lets himself go in this formless chapter, collecting anecdotes about a subject which interested him: horses, especially horses in war. The seeds of later chapters are found here, including III, 6, ‘On coaches’ and doubtless the chapter comparing the armaments of the ancients and modems which is mentioned below but was stolen by a manservant and never rewritten. ]
[A] I have never learned any language except by using it and I still do not know what an adjective is nor a subjunctive nor an ablative: yet here I am, turning into a grammarian. I believe I have heard it said that the Romans had horses called FUNALES or DEXTRARII (which were trace-horses either accompanying them on their right-hand side or stationed at relays, so that they were quite fresh when needed) and that that explains why we call our war-horses destriers1 (Our French romances also regularly use adestrer to mean to accompany.) The Romans also used the term DESULTARII EQUI [leaping horses] for horses which had been so trained that when they were galloping at full force coupled together but without bridle or saddle the nobles riding them would leap from one to the other in full career, clad in their armour. [C] The Numidian cavalry, so as to change horses in mid battle, kept a second one handy: ‘quibus, desultorum in modum, binos trahentibus equos, inter acerrimam sæpe pugnam in recentem equum ex fesso armatis transsultare mos erat: tanta velocitas ipsis, tamque docile equorum genus.’ [Their custom was to have two horses on
traces just as our acrobats do and to leap from the one they were riding on to their fresh one, often in the bitterest moment of the battle, such was their own dexterity and the fitness for training of that breed of horses.]2
Many horses are taught to come to their master’s assistance, to run down anyone who threatens them with a naked sword and to kick and to bite all those who make or come straight for them: but they succeed in doing more harm to friends than foes. Moreover you cannot pull them off when you want to once they have become engaged: you have to wait and see what happens in the fight. It turned out disastrously for Artibius, the general of the Persian army, to have been mounted on a horse which had been trained in such a school when he was fighting hand to hand against Onesilus the King of Salamis: that horse was the cause of his death, his knife-bearing equerry slashing it between its shoulderblades just as it was rearing up over its master.3
The Italians tell how our King was saved4 at the battle of Fornova when his horse trampled down several enemies who were pressing him hard; without that, he would have been killed. That was a great stroke of luck, if it is true.
[’95] The Mamelukes boast of having the most skilful horses of any knights in the world: they say that their nature and training are such that they can be brought to identify and recognize the enemy against whom they are to charge using teeth and hoofs, following the word of command or the signal given to them. They similarly pick up in their mouths lances and darts lying on the ground and give them to their masters when he tells them to.5
[A] Among other outstanding qualities both Caesar and Pompey the Great were said to be fine horsemen; and Caesar is said in his youth to have ridden, bareback and without bridle, at full gallop with his hands behind his back. You could say that, just as Nature intended both that great person and Alexander as well to be miracles within the art of war, she also took pains to see that they should be equipped in ways which surpass the natural order: as everyone knows, Alexander’s horse Bucephalus had a head somewhat somewhat like a bull’s; would allow nobody but its master to mount it; would allow only him to train it; was granted honours at its death; and that a city was built in its name. Caesar also had a horse which had forefeet like a man’s, the horn of its hoofs being divided into toes; it too could be ridden by no one but Caesar who, after its death, dedicated a statue of it to Venus.6
Once I am in the saddle I never willingly dismount, for, whether well or ill, I feel better in that position. [C] Plato recommends it as good for your health, [A] and Pliny says it is good for your stomach and your joints.7 But since we have got this far, let us press on.
In Xenophon we can read the enactment8 forbidding anyone with a horse to go on foot. Trogus and Justinus say that the Parthians customarily rode their horses not only to war but to all their public and private engagements: trading, discussing, conversing and simply going out for pleasure; they add that the most striking difference between the freemen and serfs among them is that one lot rides and the other lot walks: [C] a practice conceived and enacted by King Cyrus.9
[A] There are several examples in Roman history of captains (Suetonius mentions it particularly of Caesar) who would order their horsemen to dismount when they were hard pressed, to remove from the soldiers any hope of flight – [C] and also for the advantage they expected from fighting on foot – ‘quo haud dubie superat Romanus’ [in which the Roman undoubtedly excels], as Livy says.10
All the same, the first precautionary measure they used to take to curb any rebellion among conquered peoples was to confiscate their arms and their horses: that is why we so often find in Caesar: ‘arma proferri, jumenta produci, obsides dari jubet’ [he orders them to surrender their weapons, hand over their horses and deliver their hostages]. To this day the Grand Seigneur allows no Christian or Jew under his rule to have his own horse.
[A] Our forebears, especially during the English wars, mostly fought on foot in all formal battles and in fixed encounters so as not to have to rely, where things as dear as life and honour were concerned, on anything but their own might, their stout hearts and their own limbs. You link – [C] no matter what Chrysanthus says in Xenophon11 – [A] your own valour and fortune to that of your horse: its wounds and its death involve your own; its fear or its impetuosity make you too either cowardly or foolhardy; if it does not respond to bit or spur it is your honour which has to answer for it. That is why I do not find it strange that battles fought on foot should have been more bitter and more ferocious than those fought on horses:
[B] Cedebant pariter, pariterque ruebant
Victores victique, neque his fuga nota neque illis.
[Locked together they yielded ground; locked together, they advanced, both victor and vanquished; neither side knew the meaning of flight].12
[C] Their battles were far better contested than ours are: nowadays we only have routs: ‘primus clamor atque impetus rem decernit’ [the first yell and the first onslaught decide the battle].13
[A] Anything which we invite to share our great hazards with us must, as far as is feasible, remain under our control: so I would always advise anyone to choose the shortest weapons and those which we can be most answerable for. It is far more likely that we can rely on the sword we hold in our hand than on a bullet which is discharged from a pistol, since that pistol comprises several elements, the powder, the flint and the striker; if the least of them fails then so does your fortune.
[B] When your blow has to travel through the air you are less sure of your aim.
Et quo ferre velint permittere vulnera ventis:
Ensis habet vires, et gens quæcunque virorum est,
Bella gerit gladiis.
[They let the winds decide where their wounds are made. The soldier’s weapon is the blade: the custom of all manly peoples is to make war with the sword.]14
[A] But as for the pistol, I will speak of it more fully when I compare the arms of former times with our own.15 Except for the deafening noise – and we have all been broken in to that – it is an ineffectual weapon and I hope we shall [C] one day [A] give up using it.
[C] The Italians of old employed a fiery projectile which was indeed most formidable: what they called a PHALARICA was a kind of javelin with a three-foot iron tip, enough to go right through a man in armour; it was hurled either by hand on the field of battle or, when defending places under siege, by catapult-machines. Its shaft was draped in wadded flax soaked in oil and pitch which caught fire as it flew through the air; it stuck to the body or shield and made it impossible for you to use your limbs or your weapons. But it seems to me that, once the armies were joined in battle, these weapons would cause just as much trouble to the attackers and that a battlefield strewn with those blazing shafts must have been an equal hazard to all in the melee –
magnum stridens contorta phalarica venit
Fulminis acta modo.
[the whirling phalarica hissed through the air and struck like a flash of lighting.]16
They had other weapons in which they were skilled through practice. Unbelievable though they may seem to us because we have no experience of them, they compensated for their lack of our bullets and gunpowder. Their javelins were hurled with such force that they went through two men at a time, stitching them together, shields and all, as with a needle. The shot from their slings were no less accurate than our bullets and carried just as far: ‘Saxis globosis funda mare apertum incessentes: coronas modici circuli, magno ex intervallo loci, assueti trajicere: non capita modo hostium vulnerabant, sed quem locum destinassent.’ [Being practised in hurling their round stones over the open sea and hitting tiny circles a long way off, they could not only wound their enemies in the head but in any part of the head that they chose.]
Their battering-pieces made as much din as our own weapons: ‘Ad ictus mænium cum terribili sonitu editos pavor et trepidatio cepit.’ [Fear and panic seized the inhabitants at the terrifying noise of their walls being battered].
Our Gaulish cousins in Asia hated those treacherous flying weap
ons, trained as they were to fight most courageously hand to hand: ‘Non tam patentibus plagis moventur: ubi latior quam altior plaga est, etiam gloriosius se pugnare putant: idem, cum aculeus sagittæ aut glandis abditæ introrsus tenui vulnere in speciem urit, tum, in rabiem et pudorem tarn parvæ perimentis pestis versi, prostemunt corpora humi.’ [They are not so much moved by the size of their wounds: they think they have fought with all the more glory when their wounds are wide and deep: consequently when an arrow-head or a bolt from a sling buries itself in their flesh and leaves only a small hole in their skin, the very idea of dying from so trivial a wound drives them mad with shame and they roll about on the ground.]17 A description close indeed to a shot from a harquebus.
Those two thousand Greeks in their famous prolonged retreat came across a nation which did them wondrous harm with great powerful bows shooting arrows so long that you could grab them up and hurl them back like javelins: they could go right through a shield or a man in armour. The war-machines which were invented by Dionysius, the Tyrant of Syracuse, for launching huge heavy spears and rocks of a horrifying size with great force over a huge distance were much like our own inventions.18