Murrin
Murrin
WARFARE IN
\ \sT
HISTORY
AND WARFARE IN
RENAISSANCE
EPIC
)
i
HISTORY
A N D WARFARE IN
RENAISSANCE
EPIC
M J " H U R R I N
03 02 01 00 99 98 97 54 3 2
List o f Illustrations xi
Acknowledgments xiii
Abbreviations xv
Introduction
i
-------Part One-------
W AR W IT H O U T T H E G U N
The Romance Tradition
ONE
The Tactics o f Roncesvalles
Luigi Pulci
21
TWO
Arthur’s Rise to Power
Sir Thomas Malory
40
THREE
Agramante’s War
Matteo Maria Boiardo
57
-------Part Two-------
T H E M O V E M E N T IN T O R E A L IS M A N D H IS T O R Y
FOUR
The Siege o f Paris
Ludovico Ariosto, Torquato Tasso, and Alonso de Ercilla y Zuniga
79
viii Contents
FIVE
The Problems History Makes for the Poet
Torquato Tasso
103
-------Part Three-------
TH E G U N , O R TH E NEW T EC H N O LO G Y
s ix
Negative Critiques
Ludovico Ariosto and John Milton
123
SEVEN
Positive Evaluations
Alonso de Ercillay Zuniga and Luis Vaz de Camoes
138
EIGHT
The Heroic Few
Alonso de Ercillay Zuniga and Gaspar Perez de Villagra
160
NINE
The Officers Take Over
Juan Rufo and Pedro de Ona
179
TEN
Are There Limits to Violence?
Matteo Maria Boiardo, Torquato Tasso, and Alonso de Ercilla y Zuniga
199
ELEVEN
Acoma
Gaspar Perez de Villagra
216
Contents lx
TWELVE
The English
Sir Philip Sidney, Michael Drayton, and Samuel Daniel
231
Appendixes 247
Notes 255
Bibliography 343
Index 361
ILLUSTRATIONS
Yltt
XI V Acknowledgm ents
chapter 4 appeared in Modern Language Notes 103 (1988). They are re
printed here by permission o f the publishers.
ABBREVIATIONS
vu
xvi Abbreviations
Figure i. Map of the siege of Rhodes. Courtesy Ekdotike Athenon S.A. Copyright
© 1991.
hours. The last try, that o f 17 December, at last won the Ottomans a
toehold on the Aragonese bastion and led to the surrender. So ended a
drama not o f five months but o f seventy years. It was a technological race
between the Hospitallers and the Ottomans, with the Knights winning
most o f the time until that fateful December.5
By the mid-fifteenth century the Knights, following the best medieval
thinking, had rebuilt or mostly built anew the whole defense system o f
Rhodes.6 Cannon, however, had just become effective in sieges. The
French pioneered the new technology, and the Knights, most o f whom
were French, understood the danger it posed. The Mamluks in their last
siege o f the city, in 1444, had already used cannon, but the danger really
came from the expanding Ottoman Empire.7 In 1453 the Turks blew their
way into Constantinople, and Mehmed II began systematically conquer
ing all the Greek and Latin principalities in the area. He ended his reign
with a massive attack on Rhodes in 1480. T h e modern tourist still sees
cannonballs everywhere in the city, now mostly used for decoration or
Figure 2. View of the England-Aragon sector of the walls of Rhodes. Courtesy De Boccard Editio
Diffusion, Paris.
kept in orderly piles: the results o f this and the last siege in 1522.8 The
siege o f 1480 still showed the marks o f a transitional phase in warfare
because the Ottomans used old siege engines alongside their cannon: the
mangonel, which shot jars o f “wild fire” that was the medieval equivalent
o f napalm, and the trebuchet, which lobbed rocks.9 T h e Knights with
stood the assault, but the city and fortifications sustained terrible damage.
An earthquake the next year completed what the Ottomans had begun,
and the Hospitallers had to rebuild everything, both the walls and their
buildings. In the next forty years they redid almost their entire land de
fenses. They were still working on the bastion o f Auvergne when the
Ottomans returned in June 1522.10
The Knights tried to adapt a traditional style o f defense to a com
pletely new kind o f threat. Cannon had changed all the rules. Gone were
INTRODUCTION 5
the old scaling ladders and movable towers. Cannons simply knocked
down portions o f a wall, opening a breach that made possible an assault.
The high thin walls o f the medieval enceinte were especially vulnerable
to cannon, so the Hospitallers frantically worked to make the old walls
into something quite different. They began with a rampart more than
two meters thick and a parapet o f nearly half a meter but ended with a
rampart o f more than twelve meters and a parapet four meters across.
Great mass and low towers could better resist direct hits by cannonballs.
The Towers o f Aragon and the Virgin show the new system. Polygonal
bastions with low loopholes through which cannon could shoot into the
dry moat transformed the old towers; the Knights constructed a network
o f galleries under them to ward o ff mining. Soon after the Knights added
ravelins within the moat itself: these were freestanding walls that paral-
Figure 3. The Tower o f Spain. Courtesy De Boccard Edition-diffusion, Paris.
Figure 4. The Ramparts o f Spain with ravelins (view from the Tower o f Spain). Cour
tesy De Boccard Edition-Diffusion, Paris.
leled the main wall and would make a direct assault difficult, since they
flanked the approaches to the gates and blocked the way to the curtain
(figs. 3 -6 ) .11
T h e French thinking that governed these alterations was well ex
pressed by Robert de Balsac in his Nefdesprinces (ca. 1500).12 He stressed
flank fire along the moat, and the Knights put ravelins in front o f the
curtain to get at attackers who might assemble at the salient or blind
INTRODUCTION 7
Figure 5. The Ramparts of Spain (view from the Tower of the Virgin). Courtesy De
Boccard Edition-Diffusion, Paris.
Figure 6. Diagram of the comparative widths of the walls of Rhodes, before and after
gunpowder. Courtesy De Boccard Edition-Diffusion, Paris.
used this new thinking when they successfully defended Malta against
their old enemy Suleyman, forty years after the fall o f Rhodes.14
1469 -70 , though Caxton published it many years later.17 Similarly, at the
other end I include Milton with Ariosto in chapter 6 to show the tenacity
o f the conservative rejection o f firearms. T h e sixteenth century, neverthe
less, remains m y focus, and I do not deal with Percefbrest and other ro
mances written before 1450 or with the L ’A done and other seventeenth-
century epics.
Both aspects o f the Gunpowder Revolution, the offensive and the de
fensive, affected heroic narrative and require the kind o f informed read
ing a student o f literature often lacks. In m y teaching o f comparative
epic I have found that literary students frequently shy away from military
narrative, even when it determined a text or gave authors one o f their
principal topics. Sometimes this reluctance seems to manifest a post-
Vietnam distaste for war and stories o f war, yet such moral revulsion,
however highly principled, can lead to a serious misunderstanding o f the
past. It could be said that war was the main activity in the West during
the early modern period. The sixteenth century, for example, enjoyed less
than ten years o f complete peace.18 O n the other hand, students and crit
ics who try to work with military narrative often lack the necessary back
ground. They may not know how to read maps or assess fortifications,
armor, and weapons, or they may read the past in light o f the present.
Often they try to interpret a story before they understand what they have
read. For these reasons I have tried to cover most aspects o f early modern
warfare in this book, including regular field battles (chapter 1), strategy
(chapter 2), sieges (chapter 4), guerrilla tactics (chapter 8), and the two
kinds o f naval war, involving galleys and sailing ships (chapter 9).
The following passage from the Arauco domado illustrates the need for
an informed reading o f military poetry. Pedro de Ona is here describing
the guns and shot that the viceroy, Garcia Hurtado de Mendoza, pro
vided in 1594 for the flotilla he had put together to fight Richard
Hawkins’s Daintie, which had just appeared in the sea off Peru:
commanders to do32— and the Spaniards were still using this method as
late as 1639.33
As I argue in chapter 9, this tactical attitude had important conse
quences for poetry and, in fact, made Ona’s narrative possible. If he had
shared Hawkins’s view o f naval fighting, he might not have written up the
battle at all. An old-style conflict like Lepanto produced much narrative
poetry; a new-style engagement like that o f the English with the Armada,
none.34 A list o f guns, thus, can tell us much and actually imply a sort o f
gunpowder poetics.
The core o f this book, chapters 6 and 7, treats the poets’ own reactions
to the Gunpowder Revolution. The improvement o f firearms led to a
crisis, which Ariosto signaled in the last version o f his Furioso— a crisis
made more intense by the movement into history. O f course, other fac
tors also contributed to it. The Swiss, for example, won battles with in
fantry, not cavalry, and by the time Ariosto wrote, something closer to
the modern army already existed, with infantry, artillery, and heavy and
light cavalry, all in their own units. The whole practice o f war had drifted
far from traditional narrative modes. The poets, however, focused on the
gun, which stood for all these changes by synecdoche. They understood
that they faced a crisis that called into question the future o f heroic narra
tive as well as the heroic code such stories express. Some tried to accom
modate the new warfare and worked out a “modernist” position, which
anticipated Charles Perrault by a century.35
I begin back in the period o f the Knights o f Rhodes, in the late fif
teenth century, to show how traditional romance ignored or adapted to
the earlier stages o f the technological revolution. Poets like Luigi Pulci,
for example, could afford to ignore guns as they affected regular battles.
Handgunners fought like crossbowmen, and large guns, although they
were used, had not yet produced new tactics. Moreover, the Italians, un
like the Swiss, still favored cavalry. I discuss this matter in chapter 1. More
dangerous was the (perhaps willful) ignorance writers showed o f the
modern Muslim enemy, who bore no resemblance to the Saracen warriors
commemorated in medieval romance. I analyze this blindness in chapter
3, where I discuss Matteo Maria Boiardo and the traditional view o f M us
lim enemies in Western narratives. But quattrocento writers sometimes
tried to incorporate some aspects o f contemporary warfare. In chapter 2
I focus on Malory’s attempt to work out a new military strategy appro
priate to his period and his realization that his romance sources resisted
modernization. In all these chapters, I also talk about history and the
written forms o f history.
INTRODUCTION 13
Indian Ocean, opted for epic. The Portuguese troops there were mostly
naval and amphibious forces, who regularly fought on foot when they
had land battles, so once more the choice o f genre fit the mode o f combat.
O f course, it is unlikely that poets thought through the matter in the way
I have just described it. I speak o f a tendency and not a developed, self-
conscious theory o f generic choice.
The second issue concerns the poets’ long flirtation with history,
which the traditional or generic argument does not fully explain. Ercilla,
| who stayed within the old romance genre, was probably closer to the
‘ historical facts o f his story than either Tasso or Camoes, who opted for
classical epic. In this respect the change in military practice refines the
old theory and explains issues it does not cover. Heroic narrative and
modern warfare were diverging in the sixteenth century. Outside the Ibe
rian colonies the old representations o f warfare by heavy cavalry no longer
related to current practice. The move to the classics helped forge a new
link with an audience trained in those same classics, and thus we find
classical formulas and echoes in Ercilla as well as in Camoes.
Aristotle’s Poetics, which spurred the revival o f classical epic around
mid-century, could theoretically have led poets in one o f two opposite
directions, since Aristotle located poetry between history and philosophy.
Nonetheless, both the poets who followed his theory and those who did
not looked toward history. Indeed, Aristotle’s famous ladder o f history,
poetry, and philosophy encouraged scholars o f Italian neoclassicism to
look for differences between these disciplines, to create dichotomies. In
the early 1960s Bernard Weinberg and Baxter Hathaway opposed fiction
and history,39 a dichotomy adopted by later critics who were not espe
cially concerned with Aristotle, such as William Nelson and Ronald
Levao.40 The writers o f heroic poetry, however, moved in the opposite
direction and tended to blur the distinction between their own and his-
Itorical narratives.41 Rhetoric suggests a possible explanation for this
' trend. The Renaissance tended to conceive o f art rhetorically; theorists
spoke o f audience and worried about the relation between word and ob
ject, narrative and fact. Tasso, the only writer who theorized the poets’
preference for history over philosophy, appealed to rhetoric and not to
poetics to explain the choice. Writers want to deceive readers with a
semblance o f truth, he said, a purpose they can best attain if they use
documents that readers can check.42 Here Tasso tacitly assumes that he
can no longer take his audience for granted. History makes the poet’s
stories plausible. To preserve heroic narrative the poet must establish a
bond with the audience, one taken from history. In fact, to continue to
INTRODUCTION IS
time did not allow me to see Puren and Tucapel (Canete), and I was able
to determine the sites of two battles only long after my visit. Yet the trips
taught me much about the texts I was studying. Ariosto clearly describes
Paris, though he never visited the city, but Villagra, who wrote an eyewit
ness account o f the killings at Acom a Pueblo, presents a town quite
different from the one the Indians rebuilt afterward and that tourists now
visit in N ew Mexico.
The preceding summary o f my argument involves considerable simpli
fication. The chapters that follow provide the nuances and suggest the
complications. The move to history, for example, initially created many
problems, even though it ultimately helped heroic narrative to survive for
as long as it did. Poets now had to worry about verisimilitude, an issue
exacerbated by the imitation o f Roman poets like Virgil and Ovid, who
favored an illusionist realism in their descriptions. Verisimilitude as well
as the new warfare made Ariosto try to describe a Paris he had never seen,
a topic I explore in chapter 4. Later poets like Camoes and Tasso, who
worked directly with chronicles, had to decide how a poet should give an
artistic arrangement to such material. This is an issue I discuss in chap
ter 5.
N o single explanation can rationalize a complex series o f changes.
Throughout this book I have argued a double, not single, hypothesis.
One involves the Gunpowder Revolution, while the other concerns the
poets’ fascination with written history and with history in the making.
Even a double hypothesis, however, oversimplifies reality. This investiga
tion supplements other more strictly literary studies o f romance and epic;
it does not replace them.
Ultimately, the poets, like the Knights o f Rhodes, had to give up their
attempt. Neither effort can simply be dismissed as a failure. By their fe
verish efforts to modernize the defenses o f Rhodes, the Knights won an
other seventy years for themselves (1453-1523). Moreover, their heroic de
fense in 1522 cost the Ottomans untold numbers o f soldiers44 and elicited
this praise from the young emperor Charles V : “Nothing in the world
was ever so well lost as Rhodes.” They won more than praise: Charles
gave them a new home to the west, the island o f Malta. W hen the
Knights left Rhodes on that wintry morning, they had in their ranks a
young Proven9al, Jean Parisot de la Valette, who lived to defeat Siileyman
in their new island home.45
Poets, responding to the same crisis— the new warfare— prolonged
the life o f heroic narrative for another century and made possible a kind
o f afterlife in the seventeenth century. Their efforts preserved not only a
INTRODUCTION 17
*
kind o f story telling but the old chivalric code implied in it. Intense ethi-
i .il debate informed heroic poetry in the sixteenth century. Writers ar
gued how or whether the new warfare fit the military code— a subject I
analyze in chapters 6 and 7 — and whether ethical limits existed for vio
lence committed in wartime, the topic o f chapters 10 and n . A s so often
happens in such circumstances, continuity masked an important change.
I’oets shifted their emphasis from the individualistic, rampaging heroes
ol medieval romance to officers or to a group seen as a heroic unit, an
issue I explore in chapters 8 and 9. This development anticipates the way
we conceive o f war today.
Ily the end o f the sixteenth century signs o f surrender were clear. The
laiglish tradition, from Spenser to Milton, reveals this situation, as its
writers developed what one might call the peaceful epic. Although prece
dents could be found in Ovid or in some medieval Arthurian romances,
such works were something o f an anomaly. This was in no way an ethical
evolution away from the militarism o f the Western past. Instead, the
transformation signaled the death o f the genre, as Milton indicates in the
Proem to book 9 o f Paradise Lost {27—31), saying that he was
Such an attitude requires a new genre altogether, and in fact the novel
soon replaced the epic as the major narrative mode in the West. I consider
die beginnings o f this new development in chapter 12, but I do not go
l it into the seventeenth century.
xis P A R T O N E (Six
War
without
the
Gun
The Romance Tradition
-----O N E -----
who used Arthurian romance, though the time span is shorter. Malory
abbreviated texts o f the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.3 Boiardo
mixed Arthurian and Carolingian materials. The battle narratives in both
Malory and Boiardo resemble Pulci’s because Arthurian romance origi
nally modeled its military sequences on those in the chansons de geste.
They all go back to the same sources, the oldest o f which is the Chanson
de Roland. In m y discussion o f the Morgante and o f these related texts, I
emphasize continuity, Pulci’s debt to traditional methods, and the impact
o f contemporary warfare upon his narrative.
Pulci may or may not have had direct experience o f war, but he cer
tainly completed the last five cantari, or cantos, o f the Morgante in war
time. His employer, the condottiere Roberto da San Severino, served
against the poet’s native Florence during the War o f the Pazzi Conspiracy,
leading raids out o f Serazzano during the winter and spring o f 1479. That
August and September San Severino helped Ludovico Sforza capture M i
lan and take power there, and he then went into Venetian service, fighting
in the Ferrara War (1482-84).4 Pulci published the final version o f the
Morgante, including the new cantari, in 1483, the same year that Boiardo
(whose patron, the condottiere Ercole d’Este, fought as San Severino’s
opponent in both wars) came out with the first two parts o f his Orlando
innamorato,5 Both poets were connected with the same set o f wars.
Four condottieri tracts illustrate the tactical thinking o f the command
ers involved in these wars and thus help us to see how romance battles
relate to contemporary warfare. Chiereghino Chiericati published his
“Trattatello della milizia” in 1471 and dedicated it to Cardinal Orsini.6 A
professional soldier, Chiericati had recently served as “revisore generale,”
or military inspector, for the papacy (1465—71).7 Pulci’s patron San Sev
erino had himself collaborated with other captains over the Christmas
holidays o f 1472—73 to produce the bulk o f the documents that Filippo
degli Eustachi compiled for Galeazzo Maria Sforza in Milan and called
the “ Ordine dell’ esercito ducale. ”8 Sforza had asked the captains to esti
mate the size and kind o f army needed for a possible war with Venice,
now distracted by the Long War against the Ottoman Empire. Soon after,
on 2 January 1477, Orso degli Orsini completed the “ Governo et exercitio
de la militia” for King Ferrante in Naples, who then sent him as an adviser
to Alfonso, duke o f Calabria, who commanded the troops o f the Regno
during the Pazzi War.9 Finally, in 1478 and 1479 Diomede Carafa sent
two memorials to Alfonso that were intended to guide his conduct for
the same war.10 Together these treatises represent the views o f an older
generation o f condottieri, who still controlled the conduct o f war.11 They
THE TACTICS OF RONCESVALLES 13
complained that the Italians fought squadron after squadron and that, as
a result, the fighting could continue all day with neither side winning.20
A n y Italian who read Pulci would have understood Gano s arrangements
for Roncesvalles because contemporary commanders thought in a similar,
if more complex, way.
The other romancers likewise assume wave tactics. Such tactics charac
terize every engagement in Boiardos Orlando innamorato, and the ar
rangements are often elaborate. A t Barcelona, for example, both sides
prepare six battles (O /1.4 .27—35).21 In 7 mr«rGalba imagines a still larger
series for Caramen, the last battle o f his African war. The Christians have
seven battles, the Moslems, nine (384.1025-387.1034).22 Malory, when he
describes an engagement, likewise has waves o f cavalry clash in succes
sion. A t Bedgrayne the French ambush comes in the standard three
battles (Morte, 1.15-16 ).23 T h e number o f battles varies from writer to
writer, but the tactical thinking remains the same.
The historian Francesco Guicciardini, discussing the battle o f For-
novo, revealed the logic behind these tactics. A commander tried to wear
down the enemy, reinforcing his fighting groups only as they tired and
massing them at the end for a final blow. T h e side that still had fresh
troops won. This assumption governed the thinking o f both condottieri
schools. Montone, for example, divided his men into small companies
for the battle o f San Egidio (1416) and committed them piecemeal, using
a rotation system. Soldiers would fight hard for a brief interval and then
fall back. Since it was a hot day, Montone kept water barrels behind the
lines. After he had worn down the army o f Carlo Malatesta and saw it
becoming somewhat disorganized, he threw in the reserves and routed
his opponent.24
The romancers imagined similar situations. In the Morgante the Sara
cens oppose their main army to the French rear guard. Gano would have
them attack in three ascending waves, because the French would have to
commit all they had at once. Tired by a battle growing increasingly un
equal, the French should collapse at the third wave. In the two battles
with Gradasso, Boiardo has the French side break through all the ranks
o f the enemy but the last, where the pagan king has his own troops.25
This reserve then sweeps back the French (O I 1.4.38-5.8, 6.62—7.36). In
Malory’s work Merlin achieves the same result for Bedgrayne, when he
conceals the French allies in a wood. T h ey enter battle only after the
troops o f Arthur and the northern kings have worn each other down.
T h e opposing commander, King Lot, meanwhile, tries to initiate a pla
toon system, somewhat like the one Braccio da Montone used for San
THE TACTICS OF RONCESVALLES 25
Kgidio (Morte, 1.15-16 ).26 Plans vary in detail, but their objectives do
not change.
In such engagements the king normally commanded the last battle.
Marsilio leads the third, or the reserves, in the Morgante. Boiardo simi
larly has Gradasso preside over the last rank o f horsemen at Barcelona
and Paris.27 This positioning fit some contemporary practice. Carafa
would have the general stand above his men, as eagles do above their prey.
The men would then perform well because they would know that their
commander was watching them.28 Pulci’s Marsilio indeed watches Ron-
cesvalles from a high mountain (M 26.72). Robert de Balsac in La nefdes
princes et des batailles de noblesse (1502) recommended much the same.
The commander should sit on horseback with his advisers so that he can
see everything. The French, in fact, tried not to risk their king or prince
after Poitiers, so he did not appear with the first battle.29 Again, romance
narrative and military practice coincide.
T H E B A T T L E IT S E L F
Caught off guard by the Saracen surprise attack, Orlando orders a seem
ing anarchy for the French (M 26.50). He tells everyone to act on their
own, saying that they are all accomplished knights. He counts on his
veteran troops knowing what to do— and condottieri mercenaries cer
tainly did, since they stayed together over long periods o f time. The
French government had an equivalent situation, once Charles V II insti
tuted the nucleus o f a standing army with his Ordonnance Companies
(1439, 1445).30 Pulci knew about this innovation and used its technical
terminology. A t Paris Orlando summons the “franchi arcier” (M 24.55),
or crossbowmen who served in the Ordonnance Companies. In his “ G o-
verno” Orsini argued in favor o f a similar institution for Naples, claiming
that a good small army serves the state more effectively than masses raised
suddenly during a crisis.31 Pulci’s Roncesvalles would illustrate his thesis,
since the tiny veteran French rear guard repels the attacks o f a huge
enemy host.
Orlando follows his own advice. He does not try to direct the battle
but fights in front, enacting an older and competing theory o f the com
mander, whose example animates his men. In the earlier battle o f Saint-
Denis, in fact, his action turned around the fighting. Carlo had fallen,
and the pagan Sicumoro had seized the royal standard. Warned by
Baldwin, Orlando charged. He cut o ff Sicumoro s hand, which held the
26 War w ithout the Gun
banner, and the Saracens fell back. Then Orlando found horses for Carlo
and other paladins, and soon the Saracens began to flee {M 24.133-44).
This scenario presupposes the older medieval situation that underlay
the chansons de geste and romances. A medieval army was a grouping of
soldiers o f diverse training, so it could not execute complex and coordi
nated tactics.32 Nervous and unequal troops like these could easily swing
between enthusiastic attack and panic.33 The warriors looked to their
leaders and responded accordingly. A t Bouvines (1214), where the rulers
on both sides fought, the French won, in part because Emperor Otto and
his ally, the duke o f Brabant, fled.34 The romances present similar cases.
The Suite du M erlin, a direct source for Malory, has King Lot animate
the men o f Orkney, fighting Arthur. Once Pellinor kills Lot, Lot’s men
flee at a gallop and are slaughtered on the road or captured by the En
glish.35 Just as a leader’s death could sow panic, his prowess and courage
could win battles; individuals who showed those characteristics could
gain the right to lead men.36
Fifteenth-century romancers kept alive this idea o f the leader. Malory
might be expected to do so because he abbreviates older material. In the
civil war the English army looks to Gawain and their opponents to
Lancelot. A t Joyous Garde Lancelot’s men claim that he does not fight
hard enough (Morte, 20.13). On the second day he exerts himself, and
they win. W hen Gawain is wounded at Benwick, the English lose confi
dence {Morte, 20.22). M alory has Merlin explain to a bedridden Uther,
“ [Y]e may not lye so as ye doo, for ye must to the feld, though ye ryde
on an hors-lyttar. For ye shall never have the better o f your enemyes but
y f your persone be there, and thenne shall ye have the vyctory” {Morte,
1.3-5). Uther goes, and his army wins a great victory at St. Albans.37 Mart-
orell and Galba stress the same point for their invented romance. Tirant
regularly leads the fighting, and his men win only when he is present. In
one action the Greek emperor is assaulting a town ( Tirant, 161.504, 50 8-
9). The Saracens knock down Tirant’s ladder, but he merely gets another,
explaining to the emperor that he encourages his troops by such deeds.
And at the next assault the town falls.
Even seasoned troops need leaders to follow. It was the better trained
armies o f the fifteenth century and not the medieval levy that provoked
Machiavelli s sarcastic remark that the turning o f a horse’s head or rump
meant victory or defeat.38 Carafa accordingly wants his officers to set an
example (first “Memoriale,” 2.182). They must go first in their units, so
that their actions can substitute for commands and their valor can win a
battle (second “Memoriale,” 3.20 2-3, 5.205). Carafa develops a compro-
THE TACTICS OF RONCESVALLES 27
Ml Ur Ihi ween the two conceptions o f the leader, Pulci s Marsilio directing
hvimiin liom his hilltop and Orlando fighting out in front. He would have
lll«> king or general adopt Marsilios role and would assign Orlandos part
•11 Niihordinate officers. A t Pulci’s Roncesvalles, Orlando is just such
HI 1 olliicr, presiding over the rear guard while Carlo holds supreme
[Link].
A 1 ommander who fights in the front rank cannot direct tactics, nor
ill irn ( hlando try. His approach, however, and not the plan o f Gano and
Mmsilin, determines the fighting.39 A series o f duels heralds both stages
ill (hr conflict, as the Saracens commit their battles, the second two at
• li«* Mi n e time. In the melee that follows each set o f duels, Pulci describes
only 1 he actions o f the leaders and principal knights, so the whole battle
w in s an affair o f individual encounters, much like a tournament. Pulci
emphasizes the initial duels: Orlando himself climaxes the first series,
when he kills Falserone (A /26.64—72). The Saracen wanted to avenge his
Non I'crrau, though he had publicly made peace with Orlando over the
Umic. Seeing Orlando come, Falserone loses heart and prays to his god.
i hlando calls him traitor and then kills him with a lance thrust through
shield, mail shirt, and breast. N ot realizing he has killed his enemy, who
still sits on his horse, Orlando taunts him and, o f course, gets no re
sponse. He then touches Falserone with his sword, and the body o f the
[Link] falls to the ground. Orlando’s men, however, find nothing inside
the armor: his corpse has disappeared. Such duels form little vignettes,
made memorable here by the demonic marvelous and always by concrete
details (for example, Pulci informs us that Falserone’s shield is made of
the bone o f a certain fish).
All this fits the pattern set initially by the Chanson de Roland, which
ritualized the process. Before the battle twelve Saracens vow to kill Ro
land, and they meet the twelve peers in the opening duels. Roland begins,
killing Aelroth, a nephew o f Marsilie, with a thrust through the breast
that simultaneously overturns and kills his horse ( Chanson de Roland, 69—
70, 93). Like his counterpart in Pulci, Roland follows his victory with a
vaunt, a variant o f his famous claim that Christians are right and pagans
wrong. The French poet stresses the ritual character o f these duels by
keeping the same order in a double series, the first when the pagan cham
pions make their vows (69-78), and the second when they come to joust
(93-103). Duels likewise initiate the second wave o f fighting and signal
an increasing difficulty for the Franks. In the first round the peers killed
eleven o f the twelve Saracen champions. N ow a Saracen kills a Frank
before he dies (112—24). The whole is an affair between heroes. In this
28 War w ithout the G un
sense Pulci, though he did not follow a ritual mode o f presentation, re
mained true to the spirit o f the Chanson.
The other quattrocento romancers kept the same formula but some
times stressed different stages o f the combat. For Bedgrayne Malory pre
ferred the melee, when waves o f cavalry swirl about after the initial duels.
Malory’s narrative follows the leaders, who want to unhorse the enemy
and get their friends on horseback again. First the northerners must re
mount their kings, then it is Arthur’s coterie (Morte, 1.14-15). In contrast,
Boiardo emphasized the end o f every wave. The Spanish phase o f M on-
tealbano concludes with five combats: Carlo and Marsilio, Ogier and Ser-
pentino, Oliviero and Grandonio, Orlando and Rodamonte, Ranaldo
and Feraguto ( 0 1 2.25.2). T h e African eruption then sets up a new series
(2.30.52—54). Wherever the stress falls, the manner does not change. All
the romancers resolve battles into duels between leaders and heroes.
Battles generate the same descriptive pattern whether someone plans
them or not. So far I have discussed conflicts where leaders had time to
prepare and arrange their army, but Malory includes for his Roman wars
three clashes that occur suddenly, with no or little planning, and yet fol
low the same pattern. The battle o f the Embassy provides an example
(Morte, 5.6).40 Gawain, who leads an embassy to Emperor Lucius, resents
a remark made by a certain Gaius and beheads him. The ambassadors
flee, pursued by Roman foot and horse troops. Duels start the skirmish,
as Bors kills a knight in gold who left his companions behind and then a
knight in purple who overturned many knights. Meanwhile Gawain cuts
down Felderake, who wanted to avenge Gaius. The Romans try to re
treat, but Gawain has an ambush ready, the only plan made by anyone
before the skirmish. Eventually more troops coming from the Roman
camp capture Bors and Borel, but then Idres, Yvain’s son, shows up with
500 men. Gawain and Idres rescue the prisoners, and the English manage
to reach their own camp, keeping all their prisoners. Everything in this
engagement is improvised except the ambush, but the pattern holds: ini
tial duels followed by a melee in which knights kill or capture each other.
In this respect battles follow the same pattern, planned or not.
This descriptive procedure both fits and has helped to create the mod
ern notion of medieval warfare. Piero Pieri, for example, describes real
engagements succinctly. Armies in two or three groups charge each other
successively, the first wave against the first, the second against the second.
The cavalry attack fractions at contact, some knights ahead, others be
hind. Or as one historian put it, “the battle was a collection o f individual
combats in which the commander o f the army participated as a simple
THE TACTICS OF RONCESVALLES 29
R O M A N C E A N D C O N T E M P O R A R Y W ARFARE
Parallels
Many readers and critics forget that although the Franks lost the real
battle o f Roncesvalles, they won the Active versions. Pulci’s Orlando turns
the tide o f the conflict when he finally blows his horn (M 27.6 9 -72 ). The
sound causes the enemy to panic.42 Marsilio, Bianciardin, and Balugante
Ilee immediately, and the Franks slaughter the masses as they try to follow
1heir leaders (M 2 7 .7 3-7 6 , 81-94). In the Chanson de Roland the pagan
collapse occurs in two stages. W hen Roland reaches Marsilie, cutting off
his right hand and killing his son, Jurfaleu the Blond, the main army
llees, leaving behind the Algalife and his blacks to eliminate the few sur
viving Franks ( Chanson de Roland, 14 2-4 4 ). The arrival o f Charlemagne
chases off these Saracens, most o f whom drown in the River Sebre (180).
In either version the French win a technical victory because they occupy
1 he battlefield afterward. This scenario illustrates a major point in medi
eval and condottieri tactics, the assumption that the attacker will lose.
I''tench experience in the Hundred Years War provides the historical ana
logue: at Crecy, Poitiers, and Agincourt, the French attacked.43
The would-be victor in a battle had to lure the enemy into making an
attack. Carafa says that it is better to have the enemy come and find you.
Fieri interprets this advice to mean that the commander should begin
with light troops to draw the enemy into an unfavorable position and
then commit his main force.44 Tirant provides an exact equivalent
(157.485—87). A t Malvei Tirant uses a cavalry screen to draw the Saracens
into a charge. Once their pursuit has lost formation and the cavalry has
left the infantry behind, Tirant has his horse wheel about and attack.45
Agincourt illustrates the historical basis for such thinking. The English
took up a defensive position, making a narrow front on land made slip
pery by fall rains. Tall stakes protected the archers, whom Henry V pro
jected forward on the flanks o f his three battles. Yet to provoke the French
30 War w ithout the Gun
V piix, lux Arthur, angry over Sir Kay’s injury, order that his knights take
Ho piisoners.54 The Roman Saracens lose 100,000 slain (Morte, 5.8). In
I Hum 1he Christians capture a fleet o f sleeping Saracens, who surrender
bill iirr beheaded anyway ( Tirant, 418.1091-92).
Keality supports the romancers. At Negroponte (1470) the victorious
I Inks enslaved the Greeks but killed the Italians. They sawed in half those
who surrendered, including Paolo Erizzo, who had been guaranteed his
|iPitd.v' Christians and Muslims both valued mercy, but they did not of
ten extend it to enemies outside their own religion.
In all battles the loser could expect to sustain many more casualties
than the victor. Contamine observes that the defeated generally lost 2 0 -
Ui percent o f the army.56 A t Poitiers (1356) and Agincourt (1415), the
I'i f licit lost 40 percent o f their cavalry, while the English in the latter
hat lie lost only 100 out o f around 10,000 men, or 1 percent. During the
Wars o f the Roses the victors generally killed all defeated knights.57 Ron-
1 esvalles falls into line with these examples. In the Chanson de Roland
only 20,000 survive o f 400,000 Saracens ( Chanson de Roland, 68, 187),
the same number as the whole French rear guard (41—42, 63). Pulci gives
no figures but has Carlo destroy the Saracen survivors on the third day
aller the battle, so the Saracens lose virtually their whole army. The other
k nuances provide analogies. In Tirant the Saracens at Malvei lose
101,700, and their dead make the road to the next town impassable ( 77-
rant, 159.497-99). The Christians have only 1,234 casualties.
Such figures suggest the political risks involved in a battle. The
1 ondottieri theorists assumed that the state could gamble its existence on
a single battle. Orsini, for example, argues that the army is the basis o f
die state, so a defeated army is a ruined state.58 Carafa tacitly understands
that a major military defeat would cause a revolt.59 Both theorists had
experience in Naples and had fought through one o f its many wars o f
succession (1460—62). They knew the insecurity o f its central government
in relation to the barons. Other states, though better organized, had rul
ers who lacked tradition and legitimacy, like the Medici in Florence and
the Sforza in Milan, The condottieri rightly argued, therefore, that a ruler
or his commander ought to avoid the hazards o f battle.
Roncesvalles again bears out this thinking. The Chanson de Roland em
phasizes its dangers for the French; the Morgante, its results for the Span
ish Saracens. T h e Guenes o f the Chanson argues that Charlemagne, los
ing Roland, loses his right arm (Chanson de Roland, 4 4 -4 5) and will never
collect such an army again. T h e Chanson constantly associates 20,000
men with Roland. These knights follow the leader who favors continued
3* War w ithout the G un
O ld Disjunctions
In Salisbury Field (Morte, 21.3), and 100,000 die there (21.4, 8). One sus
pects that the repeated round number merely means “many.” Pulci him-
sell throws doubt on his statistics (A f 27.76,113). Tirant, as usual, exceeds
even these numbers. The tiny Greek Empire, fighting Turks near C on
stantinople, is said to have 60,000 soldiers on the frontier, 80,000 in the
1 ity, and 25,000 on its ships ( Tirant, 123.327). Time and size both grow
witli the tactical importance o f a battle and can reach beyond the medi
eval and early modern imagination in the poet’s attempt to convey the
1 ragedy o f a Salisbury or a Roncesvalles.
Although one cannot construe them literally, hyperbolic numbers do
have meaning. As we have seen, they can indicate the importance o f a
battle. Sometimes they are used to convey a sense o f odds. A t Bedgrayne
the army o f the northern kings outnumbers Arthurs two to one {Morte,
1.11—12). We might expect a greater disproportion at Roncesvalles, where
the Saracen main army attacks the French rear guard, but odds o f twenty
to one {Chanson de Roland, 43, 55, 68) and thirty to one { M 27.78) clearly
exceed the possible, at least when we recall that the Franks won the battle,
lb take a more modern example, Davout’s brilliant action at Auerstadt
in 1807, where a French advance guard defeated the bulk o f a retreating
Prussian army, had odds o f less than one to three.65 The exaggerated
numbers o f Roncesvalles communicate rather the emotional sense o f the
battle, the feeling that the enemy had far too many men, the sense that
prompted Oliver to ask Roland to blow his horn.
As customary as the poets’ use o f hyperbole is their portrayal o f events
dirough an aristocratic bias that controls what we see o f these battles.
With the exception o f Orlando’s squire, Pulci shows us only men-at-arms,
lighting on horseback.66 He mentions no bowmen or infantrymen o f any
kind, though such fighters were rarely absent from battles, whether in the
quattrocento or in earlier periods.67 The poet inherited this bias from his
sources. The Chanson de Roland likewise ignores all but knights.68 Yet
ibis aristocratic mode bore a different relation to military practice in the
quattrocento than in the twelfth century. To properly appraise Pulci’s de
scriptive technique, we must see precisely what he excludes from his ac
count.
The man-at-arms in the fifteenth century never fought alone but func-
1ioned as the officer o f a lance or platoon. His heavy armor caused him
to have to change mounts frequently, so he needed extra horses as well as
attendants, some o f whom participated in the fighting.69 The number o f
attendants per man-at-arms rose gradually during the quattrocento. Or-
sini assumes that a man-at-arms needs three horses, so he also has two
34 War w ithout the Gun
servants or a servant and a boy. The man-at-arms and the servant both
have a crossbow and ride horseback, while the boy looks after the supply
wagon, where he keeps his own crossbow.70 Orsini thus assumes earlier
practice, when a lance included three persons: a capo-lancia, or man-at-
arms, a page, and a piatto, or boy.71 Orsini does not include a squire, who
reappears, however, once the lance reaches four, as it did in Florence at
least by 1483.72 Pulci reflects this stage when he assigns the squire, Terigi,
to Orlando, but in fact the lance had already reached six in Milan, as it
had long since done in France.73
A t times, amid all the individual heroics, Pulci lets us glimpse this late
medieval knight, the commander o f a lance. Orlando in particular has an
entourage and moves with a group. Normally his companions are other
heroes like Anselmo (M 26.76, 134) or Sansonetto (26.134), but some
times the poet mentions Terigi, who functions as synecdoche for the rest
o f the lance. Normally Terigi fights, following his lord through the press,
“stinging” in his relief (26.134), but he also performs other services.74 He
takes Sansonetto’s corpse to Orlandos pavilion ( M 27.16) and carries the
news o f the battle to Carlo (2 7 .16 0 ,177-8 5).75
Just as Terigi stands for the other subordinates in a lance, it is logical
to see in Orlando, who commands the group, the symbol o f its deeds.
Vico made just such an analysis, talking o f the Homeric heroes but draw
ing parallels to Norman crusaders. The socii or plebs defend their lord but
give him the glory, so an Ajax or Orlando masks the exploits o f his house
or in this case o f a lance.76
This narrative mode o f aristocratic bias possesses a certain justice be
yond the rhetorical rationale usually assigned to it.77 Other soldiers,
shooters o f various kinds and infantry, still lacked an independent exis
tence. Orsini, for example, mixes the infantry with the lances. His col
umns combine men-at-arms, crossbowmen, and foot soldiers.78 Carafa’s
armies ride, they do not march, even though they included many infan
trymen.79 The romancers found it more efficient to narrate the deeds o f
the men-at-arms, since their actions automatically involved those o f
others and ultimately the deeds o f the whole army.
New Disjunctions
Him* i lie Iact that condottieri armies fought in a coordinated fashion and
HIM in llir old manner through individual duels.
Ai U. •iicesvalles Orlando allows the men o f his old brigade to scatter
tltPliitrlves as they camp (M 25.181—82). The old Burgundian Guotti-
liliolli says that they should set up a fortified camp, and Olivieri wants
Hllf loo (in fact, he tries to strengthen their position on his own; M 26 .5 ,
H i l l ir 1wo men recommend what had become standard practice by the
lllltl lifteenth century. Every army fortified its camp, especially in hostile
IUHliity."" The condottieri all advised field fortifications, though they
ffiommended different means. Those in Milan wanted a Wagenburgon
llir I lussitc model, with the wagons o f the small artillery chained to-
ItMliri.'" Ca rafa thought the commander should know ahead o f time
wllfir 10 camp but need strengthen the place artificially only if it lacked
[Link] defenses.82 Orsini, influenced by classical precept and practice,
Itflil 11 ic most elaborate model.83 He wanted a deep ditch with bastions,
tfivllmi (ravelins) to protect the gates, palisades, and the small artillery
MM u p at the ditch. Everyone talked o f fortified camps, everyone built
llii'in, and they determined much o f the fighting in the later fifteenth
1 ♦,ii»iiry.H1 Castillon (1453), which ended English rule in France and killed
I11I111 Talbot, earl o f Shrewsbury, provides the most famous example.
Firm li cannon decimated the small English force, massed together and
1 [Link] the French defenses.85 Twenty-six years later the storming o f the
I Inicniine camp at Poggio Imperiale decided the Pazzi War.86
( [Link] might have averted his own death and the terrible losses the
1'iriu li suffered if he had fortified his encampment. Orsini, for example,
make's a long list o f batdes determined by the presence or adequacy o f
held lortifications.87 Maclodio (1427) stands out as the most disastrous.
Ai that battle Filippo Maria Visconti, seeing that Francesco Bussone,
1 .illcd Carmagnola, had a smaller army, did not fortify his position and
in lust the battle. He was never afterward able to overcome the Venetians
,ind Florentines because o f the disparity in numbers, and Venice annexed
Ihiscia and Bergamo. Pulci himself cannot make sense o f Orlandos care
lessness. He suggests that the hero realized his end was near and argues
1I1.11 a person in great peril has difficulty making proper decisions (M
it*:/). Such an argument, however, merely turns Orlando into a bad gen
ii .il. C)rlando himself says that he had trusted Marsilio and did not expect
liim to attack ( M 26.24). 1° feet, the day before the battle Bianciardin
[Link] come to Roncesvalles, bringing camels laden with food, a gesture
1l1.1t encouraged Orlando in his mistake ( M 25.183—84). Neither explana
36 War w ithout the G un
tion would have convinced a quattrocento reader, since the French were
camping in hostile territory after a long war. N o argument can excuse
Orlando’s mistake, and Olivieri cannot resist reminding his friend o f his
error, as the Saracen army draws near. Orlando does not answer, and Pulci
remarks that the truth has no reply (M 26 .20 -23).
This issue shows well how some parts o f an old story can clash with
current practice and defy rationalization. According to Leo the Wise,
writing ca. 900, Frankish troops did not make fortified camps.88 The
Chanson de Roland has them camp throughout the country (Chanson de
Roland, 55), and so it ultimately forces Pulci to say the same. The issue
does not, however, point to any problems in romance as such. In the
invented tale o f Tirant, Martorell and Galba, unlike Pulci, are free to
emphasize the importance o f such camps. William, count o f Warwick,
defends his camp near the enemy with a trench and a stockade ( Tirant,
24.56). Tirant himself sets up elaborate patrols so no one can surprise
his encampment ( Tirant, 133.36 9 -70 ,14 5.4 29 ). The day guard consists o f
2,000 horse and 1,000 foot, the cavalry serving in twelve-hour rotation.
A t night he has 2,000 horse and 2,000 foot with a guard change at mid
night.
The question o f the fortified camp, although it created difficulties for
Pulci, did not challenge his chosen literary form. The change in the man
ner o f fighting did. Fifteenth-century theory and practice emphasized co
ordination and timing for an army rather than a series o f duels between
individuals. O f course, earlier commanders also sought coordinated
movement— there was a clear tradition o f communal valor— but the
background and training o f their warriors made such an objective diffi
cult. The Italian mercenary groups, in contrast, were professionals, and
the North had already developed the predecessor o f the standing army
in the Ordonnance Companies.89 The quattrocento commander could
expect a certain coordination from his troops, and he developed his tac
tics accordingly. The Sforzeschi used battle plans that required carefully
disciplined troops. Federigo o f Urbino, who led the allies against Florence
during the Pazzi War, followed this school.90 Tirant has the romance ana
logue at the battle o f Malvei. Tirant explains to his men that victory de
pends on their keeping formation ( Tirant, 156.484), and later he harshly
criticizes his close friend and subordinate, Diaphebus, for disobeying or
ders (157.493).91 The other school o f thought, that o f the Bracceschi, ad
vocated coordination through many small battle units, and this emphasis
also had its effect.92 Pulci, for example, mentions schiere or battles, terms
that designate large numbers o f men, but he also speaks o f squadrons and
THE TACTICS OF RONCESVALLES 37
4
Hilumns, quattrocento terms for much smaller units (M 24.143-44). In
llie earlier part o f the century Micheletto had set up his mercenaries for
liaiile in squadrons o f 25 lances each, or about 150 people.93 A t the same
lime the French were organizing their men into companies o f equal size.
This trend continued, and the condottieri who compiled the “Ordine”
assumed Micheletto’s number for a squadron and added the post o f colo-
tifllo for the commander o f a column. Orsini assumes 10 columns to 100
squadrons.94 Smaller units o f uniform size permit coordinated tactics of
a complexity not possible to earlier armies and not envisaged in medieval
romance. The authors o f the Vulgate Cycle would have found the battle
plans o f Charles the Bold or Ridolfo Gonzaga complicated, and a
thirteenth-century commander could not have executed them.95
This new situation challenged traditional story telling. Romance pre
supposed simpler tactics, and the narrator related the activities o f several
heroes— not just Orlando and Rinaldo, but also many other secondary
persons, such as Anselmo and Astolfo. The new tactics emphasized
the commander instead. The change is evident in the condotte. The
lourteenth-century contract mentioned corporals as well as the com
mander, recognizing that the condottiere governed by aid o f “caporales
ei consiliarii.” Companies at that time were a union of smaller companies
1hat elected their leaders. Quattrocento contracts, however, name only
1he captain.96 Tirant once again documents the change for romance. At
Malvei Tirant alone has the traditional series o f heroic duels ( Tirant,
157.487-90). Others appear only to assist him when he falls or to get him
a horse.97
In Tirant Martorell and Galba really present the biography o f a com
mander, one who fights like a quattrocento condottiere. The authors had
read Frontinus’s Stratagems, then the second classical manual in popular
ity and a study in deceptions.98 Tirant and William, count o f Warwick,
win battles by surprise and by clever devices. For example, William coor
dinates a midnight attack with an explosion o f Greek fire set up in the
enemy camp ( Tirant, 10 .27-28, 12.31-32). A t Fairdale Tirant greases the
enemy bombards with an ointment that causes them to crack at their
next firing (Tirant, 302.853-55). Under siege he fills a countermine with
brass bowls that rattle at every blow o f a pickax and reveal the enemy’s
tunneling activity (Tirant, 339.937-38). Tactically, both William and
Tirant bluff effectively, using women disguised as soldiers so that the
enemy will overestimate their numbers (Tirant, 14.34; 343-948-49, 951;
344.953—54; 349.962). Tirant also knows how stampedes can disrupt an
opponent.99 Martorell and Galba thus anticipate later developments in
38 War w ithout the Gun
their own peninsula, when Iberian poets would limit heroism to officers
(see chapter io).
For a time the tournaments and duels o f contemporary life masked
this growing rift between romance narrative and military practice. Martin
de Riquer and Larry Benson have shown that quattrocento nobles pat
terned their lives on romance models (see chapter 2). Martorell exempli
fies both sides, since he involved himself in two lengthy challenges and
wanted others to learn chivalry from Tirant.'00 Like the author, Tirant
has difficulty extricating himself from a cycle o f challenges, as he proves
himself initially in the duels and tourneys that celebrate the English mon
arch’s coronation and marriage.101 The place held in life by individual
heroics allowed contemporary audiences to enjoy this feature o f tradi
tional romance, even though such deeds no longer played a major role in
military practice.
T h e writers o f romance may have further smoothed over the rift by
means o f an effective literary device, abbreviation. Pulci abridges two o f
the three battles he presents in the five cantari added later to the M or
gan te. He shortens the battle o f Saint-Denis so much that a reader can
get no sense o f its tactics ( A / 24 .12 3-4 4 ).102 T h e battle with Balugante is
recounted in only twelve ottave (M 27.223—34). Together these battles add
up to a tiny portion o f the ottave devoted to Roncesvalles (34 as opposed
to 219). Malory shows the same trend over time. Early in his work
o f translation and abridgment, he presented in reasonably full detail the
batdes that brought Arthur to power and won him an empire.103 Later
he practically eliminates such descriptions. Four field encounters mark
Arthur’s fall: Joyous Garde, Dover, Barren Down, and Salisbury. Only
Joyous Garde and Salisbury receive any attention, and that very little.
Salisbury in particular dramatically demonstrates abbreviation. The
Vulgate author presented an elaborate engagement. He enumerated the
battles, had readers follow five successive waves o f attack, described
the make-up o f particular batdes, highlighted certain commanders, and
even recounted what the lookout boy said.104 Malory reduces this narra
tive o f many pages to a few small paragraphs, and he has no word about
tactics, dispositions, or troop movements (Morte, 21.4). Most extreme are
Martorell and Galba, who narrate numerous battles and abbreviate all o f
them.105 The hero, moreover, wins his eastern war in condottieri fashion,
by maneuver and not by battle. Having destroyed the Saracen fleet, he
blockades the army and forces a capitulation ( Tirant, 418.1091-94,
4 22 .110 1-2 , 448.1150-51).
Only Boiardo does not participate in this trend toward abbreviation,
THE TACTICS OF RONCESVALLES 39
lor lie narrates in full all his battles: Barcelona, Paris, those around Al-
Itraca, and Montealbano. One could, o f course, argue that artistic neces-
si ly determined much o f this abbreviation and that Boiardo did not re-
i|iiire it because he alternated his battle descriptions with blocks o f
narrative about the wanderings o f his characters and their magical adven
tures. Pulci, in contrast, had to abbreviate to avoid tedium, since the
battles with Antea and Balugante flank Roncesvalles.106 Martorell and
( ialba similarly have sequences o f battles, which they must abridge. But
this explanation o f artistic necessity does not account for the abbreviation
ol ////battles by Martorell and Galba, and it does not apply to Malory,
wlio either presents in detail the different battles in a series or shortens
i hem all.
The social and military hypothesis can account for all these examples.
The romancer o f the later fifteenth century abbreviated when he could
because he sensed a rift between his traditional manner o f narration and
uirrent military practice. He probably felt that such descriptions were
less relevant to his audience and to his own circumstances than other
parts o f his story, so he tended to drop them. A t the same time one must
noi overemphasize this trend. None o f the romancers expresses discom-
lort with the current conduct o f war, and we have seen that condottieri
tactics, however elaborate, still had the man-at-arms on horseback like
(lie medieval knight. Similarly, condottieri tactics allowed for the officer
to light in front o f his men, encouraging them by his example, not unlike
ilie medieval hero. Tactical complexity alone did not provoke a crisis in
mmance. Heavy cavalry had to decline further (see chapter 3), and the
new technology o f firearms had to change field tactics. Another forty
years passed before Ariosto sounded the warning bell.107
-----T W O -----
ri lu r.v, the vernacular literature o f the high Middle Ages, but the impulse
was 1 he same.5 For the North Jacques de Lalaing provides a good example
11I 1lie tendency. In 1450 he defended the Pas de la Fontaine aux Pleurs
iu mi ( 'halon-sur-Saone in Burgundy for a year, just as Alexander the Or-
|[Link] had defended the grounds o f a ruined castle in the Prose Tristan
iiiid would do again in Malory.6 Jacques was just one o f those who made
[Link] fiction real.
I bis trend brought the writing and reading o f romance and history
1 lose to each other. Most people at that time still considered Arthur a real
pm on, however wildly imaginative the romances might be.7 The English
i hmniclers might have questioned the authenticity o f Geoffrey o f M on
mouth, but they never doubted Arthurs historicity.8 Malory, though
it romancer, can thus pose as a historian. He has a chronicler’s style
illul handles his source materials in such a way as to enhance the
historical status o f his story.9 He also speaks o f his sources as a historian
would. For example, he notes that they disagree on the identification
ol |oyous Garde, and he prefers the French to the English authorities
when he discusses the after-history o f Lancelots kin (Morte, 21.12.1257,
11.11.1260).10
The same process also worked in reverse. It allowed Jean de Bueil to
disguise his military manual, Lejouvencel, as a romance. A respected cap-
1,tin under Charles V II, he designed a guide to the military education o f
.1 young gentleman, which he based partly on his own wartime experi
ences. His romance thus had a certain historical status, besides its techni-
I .il nature, and modern historians regularly cite it in discussions o f the
Li 1cr fifteenth century.11 De Bueil composed Le jouvencelm the 1460s, at
die same time that Malory was abridging his set o f Arthurian romances,
t he work o f both men shows that clear generic distinctions between fic-
iinn and fact, romance and history, did not exist for them.
I11 fact, the Catalan scholar, Martin de Riquer, remarks that at times
one cannot distinguish formally between the romance and the history
written in this period. He cites the example o fJehan de Saintre by Antoine
de la Sale. A reader unfamiliar with French history could not tell the
dillerence between this fictional romance and histories like the Livre des
fails de Jacques de Lalaing. Antoine actually borrowed an episode from the
/ ivre.12 In this case the literary presentation is identical, and only external
I I itcria can separate history from romance.
This rapprochement between romance and history had serious impli-
1.11 ions for a writer like Malory. He had to treat the strategic problems of
An bur’s early wars with the same seriousness Jean de Bueil devoted to
42 War w ithout the Gun
S T R A T E G Y IN T H E V U L G A T E M E R L IN
11 airy V victory in the field started the war in earnest, which was an
[Link] of sieges.
My the 1450s and 1460s, however, the romance formula had gained new
ii'lcvance. A single field engagement decided the English fate in Aqui
taine, and battles regularly determined the many campaigns o f the Wars
ul the Roses. A strategist could no longer assume that castles would resist
the new siege artillery; instead, he had to plan for battle. Accordingly, for
Malory, the old romance blueprint seemed to apply more exactly than
perhaps it ever had before.
In the Vulgate M erlin the enemy kings initiate both phases o f the cam
paign, trusting to odds. A t Caerleon, where they defy the new High King,
they outnumber Arthur’s knights seven to one, a ratio M alory reduces to
lilt- more probable three to one.18 W hen they later invade Arthur’s terri-
lory at Bedgrayne, the kings have a two-to-one advantage, which Malory
laiscs to three to one. Merlin, nevertheless, has Arthur attack them in
both places, and both decisions, although risky, follow sound strategic
thinking. A t Caerleon Merlin’s logic corresponds to what Jean de Bueil
outlines in his guide, based on the French campaign against the Swiss in
t.|.|4 (Jou ven cel3.1.197.0). The inferior force, having a friendly town at
us hack, can risk an attack and count on its shock value, because the
larger enemy army does not anticipate an engagement and has not pre
pared for one { Jouvencel^.1 .19 7-20 2 ). A t Caerleon, moreover, the towns
folk, emboldened by Arthurs daring, come out with axes, maces, and
i lubs to help him. They probably would not have intervened if Arthurs
knights had not first shown their will to fight and their ability to hold
die field.19
For the second and decisive encounter, that at Bedgrayne, Merlin ar-
[Link] a double ambush. The royal army attacks the enemy camp by
night. The kings, confident in their superiority, have not posted guards;
warned too late, they are attacked while arming.20 Next morning Merlin
siations Arthurs Breton allies in a wood and lures the enemy once more
into battle with a supposedly inferior force. Since the kings do not know
1lie Bretons have come to England, the ambush has maximum effect.21
Malory could take over the ambushes with only light revision, because
imnancers and commanders in the field still relied on such arrange
ments.22 In Tirantlo blanc both Christian and Saracen armies constantly
stage ambushes.23 Martorell has William o f Warwick defeat Saracen in
vaders much as Merlin in the Vulgate works to defeat Arthur’s enemies
( iirant, 10 .27-28 ).24 Frontinus sketches an ambush tactically similar to
the day battle Merlin directs at Bedgrayne (Stratagems, 1.6.2), but he also
44 War w ithout the G un
intelligence service.30 Carafa in the south gives the most elaborate set of
instructions. T h e commander must pay informers well, but he must be
ware o f double agents (first “Memoriale,” 7.184—85). Would-be deserters
should stay in the enemy camp and become informers (second “ Memori
ale,” 9—10.211). A t the same time the general should not rely too much
on spies, should use his own officers if possible, and should multiply spies
and make certain one does not know the other (first “ Memoriale,”
10.187). In one way the medieval commander needed an intelligence ser
vice even more than his sixteenth-century counterpart did: the medieval
commander lacked maps.31
The logic behind Merlin’s strategy is that o f the inner lines. He has
Arthur summon the Breton rulers Ban and Bors to aid him against the
enemy kings. Arthur needs the support o f the Breton rulers, and they
more than double the size o f his army.32 Even so he goes to Bedgrayne
outnumbered two to one, because the enemy kings have likewise in
creased their alliance, from five to eight rulers.33 A t the same time the
Breton monarchs have a dangerous enemy in Claudas, whom they have
just defeated; they assume he will attack again. Together Arthur and the
Bretons will defeat first Arthur’s enemies and later King Claudas. Malory
makes the situation more dramatic. Arthur must face eleven kings at Bed
grayne, and the situation in France is more perilous.34 Ban and Bors are
losing their war with Claudas (Morte, 1.10.20), and they must return
home after the Camylarde expedition because Claudas has once more
invaded their lands (1.18.39). The drama clarifies the logic behind Merlins
strategy. The weak must ally against the strong, bur united action involves
a risk. The allies must leave one frontier without an army, while they
concentrate on the other opponent.
In his anecdote about Claudius Nero, Frontinus provides an exact par
allel to this strategy, drawn from the Second Carthaginian War (207
u.c .e .). Hasdrubal is bringing a relief army through northern Italy to link
up with Hannibal in the south, so the Romans have armies on two fronts.
( 'laudius Nero wishes to join with Livius Salinator in the north, so that
together they can crush Hasdrubal before he reaches Hannibal. Nero
leaves a screen o f elite troops facing Hannibal, who maintain the usual
number o f patrols and sentries and light the same number o f fires. He
(lien goes to Umbria by secret marches, and the combined Roman army
destroys Hasdrubal. Nero has his troops back in the south before Hanni
bal learns o f the battle (Stratagems, 1.1.9).
The strategy o f the inner lines, though based on weakness, encourages
expansionism. Christine de Pisan warns a commander not to let an
46 War w ithout the G un
enemy invade his country: better to hurt the enemy land than to let your
own suffer harm (Fayttes, 1.18.61). Arthur meets the hostile kings at his
frontier in Bedgrayne, protecting his zone, as Christine advises. At the
same time Merlin has already planned an extension o f Arthurs rule.
W hen Arthur summons Kings Ban and Bors, Merlin lectures the council
on an expedition to Camylarde, a foreign venture to follow this year’s
defensive campaign (Vulgate M erlin, 167). Merlin explains to King Ban,
who fears what Claudas might do while he stays in England, that a man
must draw back to make a great jump (Vulgate Merlin, 107—8). He is jus
tifying the expedition to Camylarde, which has the same strategic basis.
T h e district o f Camylarde separates Arthur’s lands from those o f King
Ryons, a man who has subdued many kings already, is currently fighting
King Lodegreaunce o f Camylarde, and, if victorious, would attack Arthur
(Vulgate Merlin, 9 2 ,10 7). The Knights o f the Round Table, who left En
gland after Uther’s death, defend Camylarde. Arthur must help Lode
greaunce defeat Ryons and must marry the king’s daughter and heir, G ui
nevere. The expedition and marriage together will rid Arthur o f a
dangerous neighbor,35 increase the royal domain, and bring back to his
family the fellowship o f the Round Table.36 Both here and at Bedgrayne
an alliance defeats an otherwise superior enemy and secures the realm. At
the same time such alliances expand the realm. Arthur inherits Cam y
larde through marriage, and Ban and Bors do him homage.37 The great
kingdom is the secure one.
The financing o f the war likewise presupposes expansion. Arthur be
gins the war with an empty treasury. As Merlin explains in council, the
king is young, the nobles disdainful, and the lesser people would have
been suspicious but for the great gifts he has distributed (Vulgate Merlin,
h i —12). W ith no money, Arthur must somehow finance a war. He does
so partly by use o f a great treasure, buried near Bedgrayne and known
only to Merlin (Vulgate M erlin, 112), but mostly by plunder. A t Caerleon
Arthur pays his soldiers with the horses and apparel won at the battle,
and with the gold, silver, and money left by the kings in their camp (Vul
gate M erlin, 9 5-96). H e thus wins the love o f poor soldiers, who were his
army at Caerleon, and makes new knights the following September, to
whom he gives rents and gifts. After Bedgrayne the three kings distribute
all the booty (Vulgate M erlin, 122). Malory varies the distribution but
makes the same point. Arthur gives the spoils to Ban and Bors, who can
use the wealth to finance their war with Claudas. Arthur presumably can
use the hidden treasure to pay the English (Morte, 1.17.37).
This seemingly reckless spending is prudent. If Arthur had been cau-
A R T H U R S R IS E T O P O W E R 47
nous and tried to build up his treasury, he would have had no political
iiud military support. His generosity wins an army. W hen the enemy
kings later are fighting the Saxons, they can attract no soldiers from A r
thur's land because his men are too well paid (Vulgate M erlin, 126). A t
1lie same time the policy presupposes victory. Arthur pays his men not
110111 what he has but from what he will win. His security thus depends
on warfare, which in turn expands the kingdom. The logic is typical. The
Hrowulfprologue gives it in its clearest form: Scyld began defending his
house. His success frightened others, and the tribes o f the neighboring
scacoasts sent tribute. Scyld thus built up a treasury, which his son Beo
wulf used to win trustworthy friends, who would support him in time o f
war. And he too prospered (Beowulf, 4—25).38
The thinking o f the Vulgate author still applied in the fifteenth cen-
lury, though appropriately modernized. Kennedy shows how Malory
models the Round Table, which Arthur acquires in Camylarde, on the
royal retinues maintained by Lancastrian and Yorkist monarchs.39 Such
arrangements involved money as well as land. In Tirantlo blanc, Marto-
icll emphasizes the need for money, especially for war. His hero states
llatly that war requires troops, money, and provisions ( Tirant, 123.327).40
Martorell shows the recruiting tables in Sicily and gives the pay scales for
soldiers ( Tirant, 116.303).41 The feudal warrior has become the soldier in
1lie root sense o f the word, a person fighting for pay. Condottieri theory
emphasized the need for regular pay, and the inspector, Chiericati,
wanted them well paid, like Arthur’s men.42 A Venetian himself, Chieri-
»ati cites Venetian examples. Well-paid troops conquered Verona and
I’adua, but badly paid soldiers failed at Trieste. In other words a well-paid
army expands the realm.43
The logic is really the same in the old and the new romances and man
uals, only the fifteenth-century author adopts the specifics o f the merce
nary armies in Italy and o f “ bastard*feudalism” in the north.44 Exploding
war costs in the fifteenth century made the whole question more acute.
Mallett gives some figures for Italy. In the late 1440s Venice spent its en
tire state revenue on the army, and the Papal States for one siege in 1469
spent twice their annual revenue.45 In this respect finance determined
strategy. The romance Arthur had no alternative but to pursue an expan
sionist policy. His actions would resemble well enough the building of
large states that occurred in the fifteenth century: the expansion o f the
Ottoman Empire, the conquest o f the terra firma by Venice, the union
o f Castile and Aragon, and the failed English attempt on the Continent,
which led instead to a greater France.
48 War w ithout the Gun
It still remains true that Merlin set up a very risky plan for the young
Arthur. Malory, taking up the old story, might have thought o f John Tal
bot, earl of Shrewsbury. Much outnumbered at Bordeaux, with three ar
mies approaching from different directions, he followed a daring offen
sive strategy that ended in the disaster o f Castillon (1453). He began it
with a night march and a surprise attack at dawn.46 The parallel between
the fictional and the real campaign is sufficient to show what else Merlin
and Arthur needed for victory. Martorell provides a hint in his prologue
to Tirant: “ Fortitud corporal e ardiment se vol exercir ab saviesa: com per
la prudencia e industria dels batallants, diverses vegades los pocs han ob-
tesa victoria dels molts, la saviesa e astucia dels cavaliers ha bastat aterrar
les forces dels enemies” (“ Physical strength and courage should be em
ployed with wisdom, for through prudence and strategy, the few at times
have vanquished the many, laying low their enemies through astuteness
and cunning” ; Tirant, prol.9).47 Merlin had the time to plan with pru
dence, something Talbot did not have, and careful calculation marks
Merlin’s war aims. Malory had to revise these aims, but to understand
what he did, we must first look at the Vulgate solution to Arthurs first
war, for its ghost haunts Malory’s version.
In the Vulgate, Merlin’s political and military strategy exactly fits A r
thur’s needs and achieves its ends in every detail. The Vulgate author
establishes a situation in which plot and theory correlate precisely. Its
precondition is the fantastic geography o f Britain, where the dilemma o f
the enemy kings and Merlin’s policy o f military audacity and political
restraint make sense. Fantasy then does not exclude the political and the
military, nor does it idealize the real, at least in this case. Rather its imag
ined setting encourages the play o f theory, allowing the author to develop
the detailed implications o f a particular military or political strategy.
The authors o f both the Vulgate and the Suite du M erlin inherited
from Robert de Boron a fanciful geography for England. Robert took
place names from English chronicle but fit them to his own map. Logres,
for example, becomes a town, and Winchester a seaport.48 The Vulgate
author makes this fantasy into a clear schema (fig. 8). All the places
named are near each other. Logres is close enough to Bedgrayne that A r
thur’s army can return there after the battle (Vulgate M erlin, 122). The
enemy city o f Sorhaut, to which the kings withdraw, is a similar distance
from the battlefield, and the kings themselves live near each other, despite
their titles.41'' An enemy force can simultaneously threaten Cornwall and
Orcanie (Vulgate M erlin, 124).
Recognition o f this smallness is essential to understand Merlin’s mili-
Ar t h u r ’s r is e t o po w er 49
filt v .strategy and hence his war aims. Arthur rules an inner area. Beyond
ll'f |>city but independent principalities that separate his kingdom from
liiltir potentially dangerous enemies, who are not far distant from Ar-
lltui's i apital. Ryons, for example, is making a mantle from the beards of
iuiii|iicred kings, which he has carried before him on the days when he
Itulds court. He rules over a land o f giants and shepherds, a land unculti-
VIled because no farmer dares live there (Vulgate Merlin, 92, 107). He
himself is o f giant lineage and has corresponding ambitions. O n the other
tide arc the infidel Saxons, who wish to occupy and settle the land and
who arc Arthur’s traditional enemies in the chronicle tradition.
Such a situation explains Merlin’s aggressive policies. A larger, unified
kingdom would overawe the enemies beyond the borders. Merlin par
tially secures this aim in Camylarde by military aid and a political mar-
llagc. Arthur inherits the kingdom and integrates its army with his own.
The other kings, however, must be persuaded that submission to Arthur
will serve their interests better than independence. Here the Saxons pro
vide the necessary pressure.
I Jcfeated by Arthur, the kings find the Saxons threatening all their
lauds at once. The Saxons raid, devastate zones, burn towns, and kill
many of their subjects. Currently, they are besieging Vandaliors in “Corn
wall" (Vulgate Merlin, 113). The expanded version o f the Vulgate makes
the threat plainer. King Brangoires says they must chase the Saxons out
01 lose everything, for the Saxons have come to occupy the land and to
cupel the natives. The enemy already has a fortified base, the Roche as
Scsncs, well supplied and defended by magic. T h e British kings do what
du y can and fight a defensive guerrilla-style war, which forces them to
turn their own area into a wasteland (Vulgate M erlin, 125,131). They do
not have the strength to expel the enemy.
• Bedgrayne
Arthur’s realm
• Logres (London)
figure 8. Map of the fictional England of the Vulgate Merlin and the Suite du Merlin.
50 War w ithout the Gun
This threat eventually converts the kings into loyal subjects. The au
thor shows the logic through a conversation between Lot’s wife and sons
(Vulgate M erlin, 130-31). She tells Gawain that he should serve Arthur
and win peace for his father. Then together the two kings could expel the
Saxons. Agravain adds that the Saxons, who are only a day away, could
otherwise trap them like birds. The family decides that the sons shall
serve Arthur. The assumed situation is circular. T h e kings need Arthurs
help against the Saxon invader, while Arthur needs their armies to create
the great realm envisaged by Merlin, a realm so strong that the enemies
beyond the frontier will no longer trouble it.
This process can occur only if Arthur treats the other kings with re
straint. Merlin accordingly does not allow Arthur to exploit the victory
o f Bedgrayne. There is no invasion o f enemy territory, not even a pur
suit.50 Merlin here follows a standard strategy. Frontinus cites the example
of Pyrrhus, who advises a commander never to press relentlessly after a
fleeing enemy. Such leniency avoids driving the enemy to desperation
and makes him more inclined to withdraw another time, knowing that
the victor would not try to destroy him in flight (Stratagems, 2.6.10).51 By
this strategy Merlin allows the kings to escape with an army and so defend
themselves against the Saxons. He sends Arthur to Camylarde and waits
for events to bring the enemy kings around. The children o f the enemy,
impressed by Arthur’s heroic victory against odds, turn to him for knight
hood. Their leaders are Gawain and Galescins, themselves nephews of
the king.52 The political marriages arranged earlier by Uther thus work
for Arthur. The sons choose the Arthurian not the paternal side o f the
family, the great not the petty king. Merlin predicts that they will draw
the other sons after them and that Gawain and Yvain will be Arthurs
strongest support (Vulgate M erlin, 9 6 -9 7). A t the same time the barons
from the inner realm now do homage voluntarily, lest Arthur take away
their lands (Vulgate Merlin, 124). Military dynamism and political pa
tience make Arthur the great ruler.
T h e Merlin o f the Vulgate followed a consistent and successful strat
egy. He wished to defeat but not wreck the army o f the rival kings because
he anticipated eventual political union rather than conquest. Malory,
writing more than two hundred years later, had no such clear option.
M A L O R Y ’S A L T E R E D S T R A T E G Y
For Malory, Arthur’s enemies exist in a real, not a fantasy, England. This
change in the legend had mostly already occurred before Malory com-
Ar t h u r ’s r is e t o po w e r
*
posed his one-volume abridgment. English authors had done much o f
tin- work, reinterpreting the geography o f the French romancers. The
|imh css began, however, with the author or scribe o f the Cambridge
Suite. ''' He checked the chronicles against the Vulgate M erlin and so rein-
1 mi Ineed Aurelius Ambrosius and corrected the spelling o f the usurper’s
[Link] to Vortiger (Suite, 20 71). Such details fit into the later tendency
to historicize all the Arthurian place names, a tendency well developed
in the fourteenth century. For example, Dover had its Arthurian relics,
idiil a traveler could assume that the King o f the Hundred Knights
ImiI ruled the Isle o f M an.54 The Stanzaic Morte Arthur (ca. 1350),
which was Malory’s source for the fall o f Arthur, turns a tendency
duo a method.55 Winchester, Rochester, Carlisle, and Glastonbury now
appear on the map.56 The process was simple and logical; it united the
Arthurs o f fantasy and chronicle and assumed for England what the
Vulgate author had already assumed for France, a real geography. It
irstored to Arthur the historicity he had lost when he left the chronicles
lor the romances.
Malory accordingly gives the royal opposition a precise geographical
location (fig. 9). The kings come from the north and the Celtic west, and
Hi her and Arthur have to fight on both frontiers.57 Westward, Uther
wages war in Cornwall, and Arthur later meets all his enemies there in a
single battle.58 The north, however, is our immediate concern because it
is (here that Arthur fights the battle o f Bedgrayne. Lot has his lands in
Scotland, and the king o f Northumberland is one o f the enemy mon-
anlis. The area o f Arthurs secure control stops, therefore, at the River
I rent, and M alory identifies Bedgrayne with Sherwood Forest.59 This re
alistic geography automatically changes the strategy behind Arthur’s
lust campaign.
On the new historical map Arthur’s enemies do not form a coherent
group. Some are widely separated from each other, such as Cornwall and
I othian; hence, the chances o f unified action are limited and would not
he o f long duration. As a result, the kings act quickly and fight in mid
winter. Armies normally avoided conflict in winter, but desperation could
lorce one.60 The Lancastrians took over northern casdes in October 1462,
.md the Yorkists had to fight a winter war there, much as the enemy kings
forced Arthur into Sherwood sometime between November 1 and Febru
ary 3.61 Merlin’s strategy o f patience here takes on a new meaning. Arthur
need only survive their attack, and his power will grow, while theirs de
clines. A t Caerleon 300 o f the best knights desert to Arthur (Morte,
1.9.18-19). Later Arthur’s barons think they are already a match for the
5* War w ithou t the Gun
kings (Morte, 1.10.19). After Bedgrayne the kings must fight Saracens,
while other lords submit to the new monarch.
Survival, however, does not end the war or conclude the story. Merlin’s
advice not to pursue the defeated now has a different strategic meaning,
geared not to war aims but to the immediate needs o f the campaign. In
his speech to Arthur he makes two points: “ Thou has never done. Hast
thou nat done inow? O f three score thousande thys day hast thou leffte
on lyve but fyftene thousand! Therefore hit ys tyme to sey ‘W ho!’ for
A R T H U R S R IS E T O P O W E R 53
#
(ilttl y* wroth with the for thou woll never have done. Foryondir a eleven
W * til i liys tyme woll nat be overthrowyn, but and thou tary on them
MMp Inip,ri ihy fortune woll turne and they shall encres” {Morte, 1.17.36).
Ill# i|»ri [Link] triumph o f the Vulgate dwindles to a Pyrrhic victory in
Mutiny. Alter 45,000 casualties the enemy kings, though defeated, have
Mpi llirii army intact. To pursue them is dangerous, and Merlin argues
Hilt ill Vcgetius. To leave no avenue o f escape encourages desperate fight-
lll|t tiiu! could turn around the battle.62 A t Bedgrayne Arthur repels an
iHVmimi hut accomplishes no more. Malory shows nothing o f the greater
fill 1n glimpsed through Merlin’s plans in the Vulgate. The reader, there-
tiiir, (h >c\s not see an end to the state o f war between Arthur and his rivals,
•ml l lie story thus lacks closure. This problem was exaggerated by an-
•lllirr aspect o f the same trend that gave Arthur a realistic geography.
Romancers normally modernized their stories, bringing them closer to
llirl r audience. Critics have shown how Malory adds contemporary de
tail* to the tournaments and other peacetime activities o f his knights, and
hr does the same for war, when possible.63 To protect against spies the
Vl 11gate Arthur had ordered that all travelers be sent to him (Vulgate M er
lin, 109). In Malory, Merlin merely requires that all men o f arms who
Havel in Arthur’s zone carry royal passports {Morte, 1.11.25). More to the
pi uni, Malory modernizes the Saxons, who become Saracens, the only
(mown infidels o f the fifteenth century.
Saracens, however, live far away.64 They do not occasion the fear
I [Link] by the old pagan Saxons, who had crossed the North Sea to con
quer kngland and settle down. In M alory the Saracen attack distracts the
II irmy kings for three years, but the Saracens are not threatening enough
in cause the kings to reconcile their differences with Arthur. Malory in
stead has the kings plan a renewed war. They draw Ryons into their alli
ance: “All thys whyle they furnysshed and garnysshed hem o f good men
ol armys and vitayle and o f all maner o f ablemente that pretendith to
wane, to avenge hem for the batayle o f Bedgrayne” {Morte, 1.18.41). The
kings, not the Saxons, are the problem.
This reinterpretation destroys the logic o f the old story.65 The Vulgate
kings had to join Arthur eventually or be conquered by the Saxons. M al
ory imagines a very different situation. The kings o f the north and west,
who reject Arthur’s claim to the throne, had fought his father as well.
I Jther warred with the duke o f Cornwall and ended his reign defeating a
northern host at Saint Albans.66 N or does their enmity cease after Bed
grayne. W hen Arthur faces and defeats a foreign invasion, his victory
makes the kings unhappy: “And all the kynge Arthurs enemyes, as the
54 War w ithout the Gun
kynge o f North Wals and the kynges o f the Northe, knewe o f this batayle;
they were passynge hevy” (Morte, 4.4.130). These kings would oppose any
member o f Uther s family, and the Bedgrayne campaign becomes just one
in a series o f conflicts, part o f the long attempt by Uther and Arthur to
bring order to the realm.
Unending hostilities o f the sort M alory imagines befit his period. M e
dieval wars generally had resisted closure,67 but the giant conflict we call
the Hundred Years War far exceeded anyone’s nightmares. The English
could win battles and capture towns but could not stop the struggle.
Then came the Wars o f the Roses, which continued throughout the time
Malory composed the Morte Darthur. N or were the English alone; Venice
was currently mired in its Long War with the Ottomans, which lasted
from 1463 to 1479.
Yet M alory needed an end to the young Arthur’s wars because the bulk
o f his stories occurred in peacetime and presupposed a powerful and
stable system in England. Unable to. use the Vulgate blueprint, Malory
opted for a contemporary solution, that of annihilation, the normal prac
tice in the Wars o f the Roses.68 His immediate source, the Suite du Merlin,
had Arthur win a great double battle by Castle Terrable against King
Nero and eleven lesser monarchs. Lot also brings an army to the battle,
and the kings die there. Arthur has them buried in Camelot and erects a
victory memorial. The king stands with drawn sword over the portrait
statues o f his enemies (Huth M erlin, 245-63).
Malory carefully adapts this battle to the Vulgate war. A t Bedgrayne
he changes the number o f the enemy kings from eight to eleven, and he
adds a prediction by Merlin, who anticipates the battle at Castle Terrable
and the deaths o f the kings {Morte, 1.18.40, 2.10.77). Malory later notes
the fulfillment o f this prediction. Moreover, he makes Castle Terrable the
property o f the duke o f Cornwall and has Uther besiege this castle when
he makes war for Igrayne. In fact, Malory did all he could to integrate
the battle at Castle Terrable with the Vulgate war. It, not Bedgrayne, con
cludes the fighting and brings a kind o f peace to Arthurs England.
Unfortunately this solution, although it made strategic sense, wrecked
his story, for the author o f the Suite did not connect Nero and his kings
with those who opposed Arthur at Bedgrayne.69 He continued to envis
age the old Vulgate solution to the war, the eventual voluntary union
between Arthur and his enemies. M alory following his lead, also pre
serves this assumption. We see the sons o f the enemy at Arthurs court.
The king knights Gawain {Morte, 3.2.99) and makes King Uriens a
Knight o f the Round Table (4.4.130-31).70 Malory gives the theory its
A R T H U R S R IS E T O P O W E R S5
T H E R IF T
Agramante’s War
Matteo M aria Boiardo
Saracen army debate the pros and cons o f a possible invasion o f France,
and his catalogues give precise details about the soldiers and their lands
o f origin. This trend to historical verisimilitude grew in the years after
Boiardo composed his work.7 It affected Ariosto’s presentation o f the
siege o f Paris and reached its Italian climax with Tasso, who encouraged
the use o f historical chronicles for verisimilitude, though he carefully
avoided the vanishing point himself. He never let the Gerusalemme libe-
rata become indistinguishable from history. The conventions o f historical
writing helped make romance more probable, even believable.
The kind o f history Boiardo imitated signals the Renaissance and sepa
rates him from his quattrocento contemporaries north and south. True
to his humanist education, the poet looked to Livy and Herodotus rather
than to medieval chronicles, thus lending dignity to his romance.8 More
especially he used Herodotus when he tried to assess the goals and the
power o f King Agramante, whose invasion o f France is the public focus
for books 2 and 3 o f the InnamoratoP Boiardo constructed his analysis
through the same means the Greek historian had used for Xerxes’s inva
sion. Giovanni Ponte has already sketched briefly the extent o f this debt.10
Here, I wish to flesh it out and suggest the relationship between this clas
sical vision o f war and military practice in the quattrocento. Historical
form came easily to the man who had already translated Herodotus.11
(For a discussion o f the translation, see appendix 2.) Certain peculiarities
of geographical reference link the translation to the poem. For example,
in his translation he calls the Ethiopians whom Cambyses fights Macrotpi
{Hist. 7.18; Boiardo, 119V), and they reappear as troops who serve Gra-
dasso when he invades Spain ( 0 / 1.4 .3 4 ) .12 Next the poet puts a wood
with serpents and lions on the south slope o f the Atlas range or Mount
Catena {Hist. 7.191; Boiardo, i54r), the kind o f area in which Rugiero
grows up (O /2.1.74, 3.5.35-37). More important than borrowed words or
phrases, however, is the understanding Boiardo gained from his work on
Herodotus, one possible only to a translator. This understanding helped
him compose his original variations when he turned to the Innamorato.
Herodotus gave Boiardo his conception o f the Saracen enemy, and it
is the Saracens on whom I focus in this chapter: both the leaders and the
soldiers who followed them to war. The price o f this classical imitation
came perhaps too high. It reinforced old stereotypes o f the Saracen and
thus promoted a dangerous military illusion, one Italians could not afford
in the 1480s. The imitation o f history, in fact, allowed Boiardo to evade
contemporary reality.
The poet’s use o f Herodotus necessitates a literary discussion, for the
AGRAM ANTE S W AR 59
*)«*( ails o f the imitation reveal the poet’s attitude to the enemy. I will focus
on the councils of war that begin book 7 o f Herodotus and book 2 of the
Inimmorato and the military catalogues given later in the same books,
which define the empires and war potential o f the invaders {Hist. 7.61-9 9;
( )l 2.22.4-18). Throughout, however, one must remember that Boiardo
used many sources, even for single scenes. Rodamonte may take Mardon-
1ns’s place at the first council, but he hardly resembles the Persian
general.13
T H E C O U N C IL S O F W A R
kings would reopen wars with enemies who have previously defeatc
their armies.
Applied to the future, this family pattern causes hubris.19 After
conquest o f Greece, Xerxes intends to march throughout Europe, so i
sun will not look upon any land beyond the Persian borders (H ist j
7.8.g.2). Certainly his preparations suggest that he wishes for a perma
nent conquest: the new royal road through Thrace (Hist. 115.3),
bridges of boats at the Hellespont and the Strymon, the canal at Atholj
Agramante, as befits a romance hero, has a still wilder vision: first France,]
next the world, finally Paradise ( 0 1 2.1.64).20
The kings provoke a battle o f youth and age. In Herodotus the ruler]
and his cousin Mardonius speak for the young and argue for war, while]
Xerxes’s uncle Artabanus opposes them. In Boiardo it is Agramante and]
the young Rodamonte against Sobrino, a veteran o f the previous war; ]
Branzardo who carried the baby Agramante in his arms and regards him 1
as a son (01 2.1.43); and especially the king o f Garamanta, now over]
ninety, who dies during the second council (2.1.57, 62). The y o u n g ;
speak first.
Mardonius has supplied Xerxes with some o f his arguments and
dreams o f ruling Hellas.21 His speech in council, however, is contradic
tory. O n the one hand, he argues that the Persians need not fear the
Greeks in battle, thus ignoring the defeat at Marathon; on the other, tac
itly admitting the defeat, he recommends that Xerxes bring a large army
and navy (Hist. 7.9). Agramante will similarly go to France with a huge
land army, by which arrangement he recognizes the European tactical
superiority demonstrated in the previous wars, though he never refers to
it. His own supporter in council is the giant Rodamonte, who hopes to
be crowned king in France ( 0 1 2.3.35). Otherwise he resembles Mardon
ius not at all and presents no practical arguments for the war. Instead he
argues for royal authority ( 0 1 2.1.53—56): whoever contradicts the royal
mandate is a traitor. A t the oath taking he reinforces this appeal, saying
that he will follow or even go before Agramante wherever he leads, even
to heaven or hell ( 0 1 2.1.65). 1 ° fact> it is not clear that he follows his
own precepts. Later, dissatisfied with the postponement o f the war, Roda
monte leaves the second council without a goodbye ( 0 1 2.3.36) and leads
his own expedition to France. Perhaps this constitutes “going before” the
monarch, but it hardly fits the royal politics he argued at the first council.
His actions seem as contradictory as Mardonius’s speeches.
Artabanus opposes the war against Greece, both at the council and at
Abydos, using three arguments that Boiardo in his poem assigns to several
a g r a m a n t e ’s w a r 6i
ilmik that a large enough army will remedy the failures o f earlier cam
paigns. Inexperience likewise explains their willingness to begin aggres
sive wars and their unrealistic dreams o f world conquest. On the other
side, the older men have all the caution that experience o f defeat can
pioduce. They know the enemy, his army and his land, and they con
st met an array o f practical arguments against this new enterprise. Finally,
11u y fear the supernatural and wish to rest with what they have. The
young, however, win the meetings, for the kings are young and desire
glory. Nevertheless, the military catalogues that follow the councils show
ilui in this case the old men are right.
T H E CATALO GU ES
Boiardo indicates two o f the three sources for his catalogues when he
1 1aims that Agramante had collected together the largest army ever (01
;.2.y. 1-2 ).24 N o t Hannibal when he brought all Africa and Spain to Italy,
not Xerxes who took Scythians and Ethiopians to Thermopylae, had an
army of this size. Livy and Herodotus, the classical historians o f a Europe
invaded by foreigners, provide his model. Boiardo’s third source comes
Irom the romancers’ practice o f modernization. Charlemagne’s enemies
had to be Saracens, not the old pagan Persians and Carthaginians, and
the towns and districts o f Islamic Africa had to be given their current
names. Boiardo thus had to use portulans,.contemporary nautical maps,25
lather than that o f Ptolemy, which copyists also continued to reproduce
digs. 10, 11). The conception is classical, but many o f the details are
modern.
Livy gave Boiardo his notion o f political Africa and the grand outlines
of the war. Agramante’s family comes from Tarabulus, or Tripoli (Livy,
.’ .1.9), and he has his own capital at Bizerte (Biserta). The two towns
define roughly the coastal limits o f the old Carthaginian homeland, and
half o f Agramante’s elect troops come from this area: Bizerte, Tunis, and
Iarabulus, not to mention others from Jerba (Alzerbe).26 Westward Agra
mante’s control extends at least as far as that o f the old Punic colonial
system: on the Mediterranean coast Bejai'a (Bugia), Algiers, Bellama-
rina,27 and Oran; Ceuta (Septa, Sette) and Alcazar el-Saghir (Alghezera) at
(he Pillars o f Hercules; then down the Atlantic coast with Asilah (Arzila),
Lirache (Alvaracchie),28 and Azemmour (Azumara, Zumara). The cam
paign resembles the Second Punic War, for Agramante joins a Spanish
army, and together they win a great initial victory and occupy most o f
die enemy’s territory. The outcome, however, will resemble the last Punic
64 War w ithout the Gun
War, for it is predicted that Orlando will level Bizerte and leave it in ruins,
as the second Scipio demolished Carthage ( 0 1 2.1.19).
Herodotus’s influence can be seen in the catalogues by the inclusion
o f a naval as well as an army catalogue. Similarly, the poet’s emphasis on
the exotic in his presentation o f the diverse contingents reveals the histo
rian’s influence. More important, however, the Greek gave Boiardo his
sense o f the oasis kingdoms (fig. 12).
Boiardo includes an unnecessary catalogue o f ships (O I 2.29.3-20 ),
unnecessary because the ships serve only as troop transport, from Bizerte
to Malaga (Maliga). Herodotus had described both land and sea forces
because Persian strategy required their cooperation.29 The Persians fought
simultaneously on both, as the battles o f Thermopylae and Artemisium
indicate. Boiardo imagines only a land war but includes the naval cata
logue for two purposes: he wants to remind his audience o f the enemy
leaders, just before they take part in the battle o f Montealbano, and he
Figure 10. Mauros map of North Africa (1459). Courtesy the University of Chicago
Libraries.
Figure n. Places in Agramante’s empire that can be exactly located on a modern map.
66 War w ithout the Gun
likes color and exotic detail, so he enumerates all the ensigns o f the Sara
cen leaders.30 This color becomes traditional in the first catalogue {01
2.22.4-28), where Boiardo imitates Herodotus’s descriptions o f exotic
peoples.31 The people from Alcazar el-Saghir (Alghezera), for example,
use dragon bones for iron and substitute lion heads for helmets { 0 1
2.22.17—19).32 So far Herodotus influenced the poet’s form, but the Greek
also influenced Boiardo’s content.
Boiardo turned to Herodotus for material when he needed informa
tion on the desert oases in “ Getulia.” 33 T h e portulans gave few precise
locations for places in the African interior, and Boiardo had to look else
where for the information. This situation explains some peculiarities in
Boiardo’s catalogues, for the Renaissance text o f Herodotus had doublets
that required interpretation. Farthest east was Siwa (Amonia), the place
where Zeus Am m on had his temple, followed by Awjilah (Augila), the
oasis where the Nasamones harvested dates {Hist. 4.172). Next came the
Garamantes, listed twice but only once for the oasis, which, however,
Herodotus located too far west.34 In between, Boiardo put Fizano (the
modern Fezzan in western Libya). N ow the Garamantes o f Herodotus
hunt the Ethiopian troglodytes, who live on serpents and lizards. J ’hey
become Boiardo’s people o f Bulga, a place in the deep desert {01
2.22.10).35 Next Herodotus has the Atlantes, listed twice {Hist. 4.184).36
a g r a m a n t e ’s w ar 67
lloiardo took the description o f the first but the location o f the second,
/.ti diest west under Mount Atlas. Herodotus says that they are blameless
hm curse and revile the sun while it is high, because its burning wears
mil their land and them. The Italian poet keeps the detail but reverses
the judgment: there is no group worse ( 0 1 2.22.11). He also incorrectly
modernizes their name, for they become the people o f Fez (Fiessa).37
The rest o f Agramante’s kingdom can be briefly told. Boiardo has some
sense o f the cities o f the Tell (Constantine, Tlemcen or Tremison)38 and
0/ die Atlas district (Mount Carena),39 and he adds the Canaries and the
black kingdoms o f West Africa, which the Portuguese were exploring.40
I le thus conveys a sense that Agramante brings all o f Africa west of
Egypt— all o f it that Europeans knew about— to the great war (01
1.12.28). Agramante’s realm thus equals in extent the earlier empires in
die area. Its center and policies are Carthaginian, but the king controls
die whole o f North Africa, as had the Almohads, and his rule extends as
Zar south as that o f the Almoravids.41 In this fashion Boiardo creates an '
imaginary rival o f the historical Persian empire that invaded Greece.
Militarily, both Herodotus’s and Boiardo’s catalogues describe armies
1hat consist mostly o f light troops and must fight heavily armored sol
diers: the phalanx o f the Greeks and the mailed cavalry o f medieval Eu
rope. Xerxes has hardly any hoplites or heavy infantry in his army.42 The
Persians themselves set the standard: armored archers who could serve as
infantry.43 Otherwise the king has archers who wear no armor, and javelin
dirowers from Anatolia.44 The Persian tribes likewise provide the heavy
cavalry.45 Agramante’s army shows the same pattern exaggerated. Nine of
his contingents are well armed.46 O f the rest, where Boiardo gives infor
mation, none has any value militarily.47 There are the nomads and oasis
dwellers, who wear no armor (nine contingents);48 the people of the A t
lantic seaboard, whom Boiardo imagines living in Stone Age condi
tions,49 and the black troops.50 Finally, he dismisses those from Norman-
dia as deaf, lame, and cross-eyed (O I 2.22.19).
Few o f these troops could face heavily armed Europeans. Both kings,
1he real and the Active, discover this fact quickly. Xerxes sends Medes and
( iissians (Elamites) to capture the diminutive force at Thermopylae alive.
The Asiatics, o f course, cannot advance in the narrow pass, and the Per
sian Immortals who replace them fare no better. Courage cannot com
pensate for shorter spears (Hist. 7 .2 10 -12 ).51 A t Montealbano Boiardo
constructs a variation on this scene. Agramante tells Pinadoro o f Con
stantine to get information on the battle below. He is to go where the
battle is fiercest and capture one to six prisoners alive and bring them
68 War w ithout the Gun
back for interrogation. Instead Orlando unhorses him, leans over, picks
him up, and does his own interrogating (O I 2.29.32-36). H e sends the
shaken youth back to Agramante, and Pinadoro now argues against the
battle, saying that, i f the other warriors resemble the one he met, their
own fate will be terrible.
T h e invaders o f necessity must rely on numbers. Xerxes regularly as
sumes that the size o f his army obviates combat and brings to Thermopy
lae a land army that Herodotus estimates at 2.1 million {Hist. 7.184).52
Boiardo gives few numbers, but one is telling: 100,000 ships bring the
army to Spain ( 0 /2 .29 .22). This total does not include King Marsilio’s
army, which Agramante finds fighting at Montealbano. Both rulers in
tend to overwhelm their opponents.
The two authors have the same military analysis o f this strategy. At
Thermopylae Xerxes learns that he has many people but few men (Hist.
7.210.2). The judgment is harsh because the king has used only his best
troops that day. Boiardo is, as usual, more explicit. Contempt marks his
first catalogue. A t one place he says that he does not give numbers because
Orlando could easily chase such a rabble ( 0 1 2.22.7), and in the battle
the Africans are simply canaille.53
Good fortune accounts for the initial victories won by the invaders.
Xerxes finds a way around Thermopylae, and the Africans arrive late in
the day at Montealbano, while the French have been fighting for many
hours. In both cases numbers win, but the military future remains uncer
tain.54 Victory allows the invaders to occupy much enemy territory, but
they lose the next battle. Hardly any Persian who fought at Plataea sur
vived the battle.55 In Boiardos work, Agramante fails in his initial assault
on Paris, but he keeps his army intact. The poet has told us, however,
that this army will perish in France. The many may win the first battle,
but they will inevitably lose the war.
S I G N I F I C A N C E O F B O IA R D O ’S IM IT A T IO N
OF H ERO D O TUS
(1463) he began his approach to Italy. Albanians fled there in 1467, and
their state began to collapse in the following year. The Turks were now
on the Adriatic and raiding Venetian territory in Dalmatia ( 1 4 6 7 ,1469).61
They were in Istria in 1471, and Turkish cavalry raided the Friuli several
times in the 1470s. Venetians could climb their campanile and glimpse
the smoke o f burning villages.62 Finally, the Turks reached Otranto in the
south, which Gedik Ahmed Pa$a captured in 1480. This threat to Italy
coincided with the years when Boiardo wrote most o f his poem. Venice
was the great neighboring power, and its misfortunes would not pass un
noticed in Ferrara, since the Friuli was less than 300 kilometers away.
Otranto concerned the house o f Aragon, which Boiardo had praised in
his poem and which had given Ferrara its duchess. The concern and the
fear that were felt during the 1470s recalled for a classically trained poet
the original East-West conflict chronicled by Flerodotus, when the mere
appearance o f a Persian army could cause panic (Hist. 6.112.3) and the
enemy zone o f control ultimately included all the cities o f the Asiatic
Greeks, those o f the Aegean islands, and most o f the European homeland.
Boiardo’s use o f Herodotus is an indication o f his sense o f a threat to the
very existence o f his culture, quite as fundamental as that o f the Persian
to the Hellene, and perhaps without parallel in the intervening millennia.
For a century the clash o f Muslim and Christian dominated Italian epic.
There is a further, more precise reason for Boiardo’s use o f Herodotus.
Certain actions in the Long W ar between Venice and Turkey (1463—79)
paralleled closely some events in Xerxes’s invasion o f Greece. Like the
Spartans and their allies before them, the Venetians and insurgent forces
o f the Morea in 1463 thought to prevent an enemy invasion by the con
struction of the Hexamilion, a wall across the Isthmus o f Corinth. In
both cases the defenders labored feverishly.63 In a mere fifteen days Vene
tian sailors as well as soldiers— about 30,000 men altogether— managed
to reerect the whole wall. They made it three and a half meters high and
more than a meter thick, with 136 towers and a moat on both sides. He
rodotus points out the futility o f such a defense, though the Persians
never tested it.64 The Turks did, and, at the approach o f the main army,
the Venetian admiral Alvise Loredano ordered a withdrawal to Navplion,
and the whole defense o f the Morea collapsed. W ith the failure went
Venice’s one serious chance o f victory in the war.65 This parallel alone
need not have recalled Herodotus, because military thinking in any age
would suggest a wall at the isthmus, and the Turks had already crossed tlye
Hexamilion when they first conquered the Morea. However, the parallel
supports another, which is striking enough to make a classically trained
a g r a m a n t e ’s w a r
71
vviiicr think about historical repetition. This is the crucial action o f the
w.u that destroyed Venice’s status as a great power: the siege o f Chalkis
m Negroponte (1470).
The year before, the Venetian admiral Niccolo da Canale had raided
in the northern Aegean and provoked Mehmed II sufficiently that he
personally led a massive counterattack the following year. Galley warfare
inpiires nearby bases, and the Venetian port for the central and northern
Aegean was Negroponte, on the island o f Euboea. To take it, Mehmed
led a combined land and sea offensive, the size o f which recalled the old
Persian invasion. In both cases exaggerated numbers given by the Euro
pean historians indicate the panic it caused. Mehmed II led an army over
land o f 120,000 men, but it was the size o f his fleet that shocked the West.
Venice had counted on its naval superiority, but what could Canale with
ss galleys do against 300 ships and 70,000 men?66 Eyewitnesses called it
a forest at sea, stretching across nearly twelve kilometers o f water. The
Persians had assumed that an overwhelming force would make combat
unnecessary. They guessed wrong for the Greeks, but the same policy
worked against the Venetians. Although the garrison defended Negro
ponte brilliantly, the Venetian fleet achieved nothing and failed to relieve
Ilie town in time.67 Venice continued to fight for another nine years, but
II had lost the war and no longer ruled the sea.
The actions at the Hexamilion and Negroponte seemed to be a repeti-
lion o f Herodotus— with the wrong ending. Nevertheless, the warfare
had not ended, and the action involved Italy and the Balkans as well as
( ireece. The Herodotean scenario might still apply, and that is the em
phasis o f Boiardo’s fantasy war. However many battles the Europeans
might lose initially, however much territory the enemy might occupy, the
elite soldiers o f Europe would finally win and expel the invader. The pat
tern forecasts the failure o f the enemy even in his successes. Catalogues
of the hostile forces at the battles o f Thermopylae, Roncesvalles, and
Montealbano all showed his weakness.
This pattern, though comforting, was false. It had been true for He
rodotus and for the writers o f the chansons de geste, who signaled the
(Christian offensive in Spain, but by the fifteenth century it no longer
applied, at least not for the Italians and eastern Europeans. Yet this think
ing persisted in people’s minds, and not only in their fantasies. Machia-
velli, drawing on the Roman historians, still assumed the pattern in the
generation after Boiardo’s. It is well, then, to clarify its assumptions so as
to see more clearly the illusions involved.
Herodotus and Boiardo present variations on a single theme: the clash
72 War w ithout the Gun
Between his catalogues and batde narratives Boiardo does address this
•lltiaiion indirectly.77 Herodotus again provides the model. Soldiers tend
In wear clothing and adopt modes o f fighting suitable to the climate and
topography o f their home areas. Oasis dwellers and African nomads, for
Maniple, would not wear armor, since they operate in the Sahara. Now,
llii ides of fighting that fit one zone may not work in another. The Per
sians, who won Asia on horseback, had to fight the Spartans on foot. The
lliniiiuains o f Greece, although they allowed for the use o f light cavalry,
Idvnird infantry. The Italians o f Boiardo’s day preferred heavy cavalry,
lilll they had to adapt to these same conditions. The Venetians hired local
W » horsemen and brought their own infantry with them. Technology
III lIns case reinforced topography. Galleys were not good horse trans-
|«iiis. and Venetian overseas troops had to be prepared to fight on land
III mm. " The colonial from across the sea can hardly avoid fighting like
lilt' lot al.
74 War w ithout the Gun
lilr .uid material cares, who won advancement through merit. They were
only the largest and most famous contingent among the sultans slave
so Idiers.84 Moreover, in the colonial wars they faced mostly Venetian mili
tia and conscripts, not the condottieri companies o f Italy. A well-trained
lew can defeat a mob but not an army equal in training and superior in
numbers. In fact, Western leaders and soldiers had become so demoral
ized by constant defeat that Scanderberg, the famous guerrilla leader in
Albania, asked for an escape galley and a guaranteed pension from Venice
helore he would participate in the Long War.85
Such misconceptions and illusions, especially the last, were comfort
ing, but they were particularly dangerous in the crisis Italians thought
i hey were facing. Circumstances, however, spared them disillusionment.
[Link], the next sultan, did not pursue an expansionist policy; Selim
mined east and south; and Suleyman looked north to Hungary. The
I labsburgs fought the Western defense at Vienna, and the Ottomans
never seriously attacked Italy.
Undispelled, these illusions had a strange afterlife. The fiction that
Westerners with small armies could defeat alien multitudes became a real
ity once more shortly after Boiardos death, though in a transformed situ
ation. Small bands o f Spaniards succeeded in conquering much o f
America, their victories made possible by a technological superiority that
negated the need to fight like the locals. The old paradigm, wrongly ap
plied in Europe, worked quite well on the other side o f the Atlantic.
P A R T T W O &x
'$* 1 M O D E R N C R I T IC S H A V E S T R E S S E D T H E F A N T A S Y IN T H E
iHtiii fiirioso, but it was rather the realism o f certain scenes that
ilml, perhaps even generated, a new approach to heroic poetry in the
I tlmrcnth century.' An outstanding example o f Ariostos realism is
Mliiuiite’s assault on Paris, which Ariosto presented with a plasticity
|llf’i edented in previous romance.2 Tasso, Ercilla, and Ercilla’s imita-
M pushed this new realism ever further but never quite to the point
H v die distinction between poetry and history disappears.3 They too
7|lli Ini sieges— Tasso o f Jerusalem, Ercilla o f a fort at Penco in Chile,
> ir lie had his own first experience o f war. Sieges, in fact, were a literary
tally o f the Renaissance; medieval romancers, although they presup-
pHMil sieges, did not describe them.
I have arranged this material in a logical rather than in a chronological
{Htlei In ilia and Tasso developed Ariostos innovations independently o f
H i ll oilier.'1 The second installment o f the Araucana, in which Ercilla
(Imi i ihes the siege o f Penco, appeared in 1578, several years before Tassos
ht/rmme liberata (1580—81), but it brings poetry closer to history than
ftnr* l asso’s work. Ercilla, therefore, comes last. I have not, however, ig-
gnieilTlmmology where it is crucial to m y analysis. In the case o f Ariosto,
fit? 1111 mil date is 1515, the year he sent the first edition o f the Furioso to
|l» (Hint cr/’ and not 1532, the year o f the third edition. Throughout his
1( visions the poet left his scenes o f siege as they had been in the
Mill edii ion, limiting himself to stylistic changes. T h e date thus makes a
(4111. M. 11 e for any historical analysis, most especially because technologi-
(#1 development was so rapid but also because the military and political
(MMies differed profoundly from 1515 to 1532. M y historical argument is
|lil*rii on the situation that prevailed in 1515.
70
8o The M ovem ent into Realism a n d H istory
A R IO S T O
Ariosto’s predecessor, Boiardo, toward the end of his life had also experi
mented with this new style,12 but he shied away from it for scenes of
warfare. Here it was Ariosto who followed through on Poliziano’s experi
ments.13
Ariosto made a threefold contribution to military poetry. First, with
i lassical clarity he described war in all its diverse aspects. Some brief ex
amples will suffice. A single ottava effectively evokes panic {O F 18.159).
Hie broken Saracens do not hear trumpet, drum, or signal for retreat:
lei l ifted, many drown themselves in the Seine. O n a humorous note, the
king of Oran wishes to joust with Rinaldo (O A 16.47) but though strong-
honed, he is small o f stature and so has to aim at Rinaldo’s shield. Finally,
Ariosto conveys the horror o f battle. The night after the great assault,
( loridano and Medoro come to the army where amid swords, arrows,
shields, and lances the poor and rich, king and vassals, lie in a red lake,
horses on top o f men {O F 18.182). So vivid were his descriptions that
1 litics quickly noticed parallels between Ariostos poetry and painting.
I udovico Dolce said that one seems to see more than read the poem, and
1 lilies o f the present century continue to make the same point.14 Ariosto
makes his audience feel that they have been spectators at a war in
progress.15
The poet extends this realism to the way the seasons set the rhythm o f
.1 war. He describes spring {O F 12.72) because it introduces a new cam
paign, and troops that had gone into winter quarters are returning to
AgrarTTante’s camp.16 Similarly, the heavy rain that saved Paris the year
be fore, suddenly turning the plain into a lake and putting out fires that
were beyond control (O A 8.6 9 -70 ), probably signaled the onset o f winter
and the end o f the previous campaign.17 The poets who followed him
look this insistence on weather and developed it much further for their
own presentations o f war.
Second, this revived classical technique enabled Ariosto to represent
an assault on a fortified town. Virgil had shown the Greeks sacking Troy
82 The M ovem ent into Realism a n d H istory
mm
and Latins attacking a fort, and Ariosto now did the same for Paris. H i||
romance predecessors had avoided such scenes, despite the importance
o f sieges to warfare in the high and late M iddle Ages, the period that j
generated the literary form o f romance. T h ey did not have the old classi
cal means to describe such scenes, and they may have passed over sieges j
for social reasons as well. Romance was an aristocratic form, but knights
had little to do in a siege. In sieges, pioneers and infantry, drawn from
the lower classes, did the essential work.18 Romancers normally presup
posed a siege but assumed that a battle or duel resolved it. Boiardo so
handled both the earlier attack on Paris by Gradasso and the long drawn-
out siege o f Albraca.
Finally, Ariosto described the war at Paris without the element o f the
marvelous. Aside from Rodomonte’s prowess and the personification
comedy o f Discord, none o f the wonders for which the Furioso is famous
appears here. Although his plastic style could heighten the marvelous—
as it does, for example, in the knights’ fight with the hippogrif (2.48—
53)— here it accentuates the realism o f war instead.
T h e result o f these innovations was a series o f stunning scenes, mostly
involving Rodomonte.19 Two will suffice to show what Ariosto achieved
at Paris. In the first {O F 14.126—34 ,15 .3-5 ) Rodomonte leaps the ditch to
the inner wall, landing silently, as if he were wearing felt on his feet (fig.
13).20 Meanwhile his men, numbered precisely at 11,028, suffocate in a
T H E S I E G E O F P A R IS 83
i f * Hitp below. The dying make a horrible harmony of screams with the
mg llames, and Rodomonte, looking back, blasphemes heaven
fellli let 1 dying cries.21 In the second (O .F16.21-28), Rodomonte goes ber-
tk, lushes down a street, and slaughters all he meets. The old, who had
C *11 waiting for news, now raise a loud cry. People try to flee to houses
•Hii 1 lunches, but few succeed. Rodomonte kills them all from behind,
|| limy 1un. One leaves half his legs; another’s head flies from his body;
•It* 1* 1111 crosswise and another vertically from head to flanks. The Sara-
Iftl kills without distinction o f age or social position: servant and lord,
Mllll and sinner, priest, boy, lady, old man. Not content with murdering
(WopIf, he also attacks buildings, setting fire to the wooden houses and
kltllii lies, shaking pieces out o f roofs. Ariosto concludes with a contem-
fNMMiy illustration: no bombard— which his patron Cardinal Ippolito
♦ I'lUlr saw at Padua, so large that it could make a wall fall— could do
It mini).
These scenes spoke directly to the experience o f Ariosto and his audi-
•lli e and marked the difference between the cinquecento and quattro-
HMim. Virgil’s Turnus and Boiardo’s Agricane, the heroes in the scenes
llui served as models for Ariosto, fight other soldiers.22 Rodomonte
daughters civilians. T h e French had shocked the Italians in 1494, when
Ihey killed all their prisoners.23 These executions were mere preludes to
the agonies o f cities they took, while Ariosto was writing his poem. Guic-
1 iiiidini says that after 1509 civilians “saw nothing but scenes o f infinite
tiling,liter, plunder and destruction o f multitudes o f towns and cities, at
tended with the licentiousness o f soldiers no less destructive to friends
ih.m foes.” 24 The poet himself criticized the French for their treatment
11I Brescia and Ravenna, where the soldiers robbed and raped indiscrimi
nately (O A 14.8—9). Rodomonte merely did more spectacularly what sol
diers in the sixteenth century did as a matter o f course.25 The power o f
tin- scenes involving Rodomonte comes not only from Ariosto’s plastic
style but also from the reality o f contemporary warfare. These two factors
also explain the special difficulties Ariosto faced.
The relationship o f romance to contemporary warfare was already
dilficult in the fifteenth century, and the realism o f Ariosto’s chosen style
made it a critical issue. He had to keep his fiction reasonably close to
1lie experience o f his audience, which had an intimate knowledge o f war.
Ariosto himself casually refers to his own military experience {O F 19.83)
when he says that he has seen a bombard open squadrons the way Marfisa
did.26 Normally the romance poet discreedy updated his fiction. Under
84 The M ovem ent into Realism a n d H istory
the pretense that it happened long ago, he described a more or less con
temporary form o f fighting. Ariosto had the same intent but experienced
serious difficulties in its execution.
Contemporary warfare varied from one region to another. Ariosto’s
fiction presupposed the war o f Christian and Saracen, but this was a false
model for at least two reasons. First, the Ottomans did not at present
menace Europe. The new sultan had turned east, attacking Persians and
Mamluks. Ariosto accordingly represents the Levant benignly, as a Da
mascus o f tournaments and chivalric enterprise.27 Second, actual warfare
in the Levant differed from the persistent fighting that convulsed Italy at
that time. Venice, for example, did not campaign in the Levant in the
same w ay as in Italy. The quick attacks and fast sieges o f an amphibious
strategy had marked the previous war between Venice and the Ottoman
Empire (1499-1503).28 N or did the colonial wars fought by Venice re
semble those in North Africa, where the Spaniards enjoyed a technologi
cal superiority they did not have in Italy.29 In such wars cities like Modon,
and even great ones like Constantinople and Granada, could not resist a
determined siege, yet Ariosto’s fiction required just that for Paris.30
In Italy, however, a good-sized town could still survive a siege, and the
attackers could not assume that their cannon would blow up the walls.
Padua, for example, successfully withstood Maximilian’s forces. The Este
served there under the emperor, and Ariosto refers to the bombards used
(O F 16.17), tacitly paralleling the efforts o f unsuccessful besiegers,
whether Imperials or Saracens.31 The Italian wars made sense out o f Ari
osto’s plot, and in any case they were the background required by the
poet’s rhetorical situation. The Italian style o f warfare had determined
the expectations both o f the poet32 and o f most o f his audience.
Although the Italian wars fit Ariosto’s plot, th^y involved him in fur
ther difficulties, since Italy served as the proving ground for all the latest
experiments in offense and defense. Ariosto tried to make his warfare as
modern as possible, but he could only go so far with technology.33 Still,
he did what he could. Armies had used fortified camps since the mid-
fifteenth century; Agramante has one at Paris with an embankment and
a ditch (O A18.157), and his defeated troops spend the night digging more
ditches and shelters and molding bastions (18.163).34 All this fits contem
porary procedure. Piero Pieri cites the condottieri Orso Orsini and Dio
mede Carafa, who would use the earth dug out for the trench to make
the walls, often with stakes. Machiavelli was soon calling a camp a mobile
fortress city and advising that the bastions provide cross fire into the
ditch.35
T H E S IE G E O F P A R IS 85
lem was not just anachronism— the concern that cannons and gun plat
forms would not fit a fiction about Charlemagne— for Malory had not
hesitated to give Mordred what might have been cannon, when he be
sieged Guinevere in the Tower o f London (Morte, 21.1).42 It was also that
Ariosto’s classical models could not help him here. The revived realistic
style presupposed massed action close by the walls o f the kind cannon
made impossible. Boiardo, however, had pointed out a way to disguise,
if not eliminate, the rift between the poet’s fiction and contemporary
reality.
In describing Paris Ariosto departed from his common practice, a
practice that Simon Fornari claimed the poet followed elsewhere. He did
not describe an Italian town and call it Paris, the way he described Flor
ence and called it Damascus.43 Instead, he assumed the real Paris o f his
own day. Boiardo had made gestures in this direction. His idea was to
increase the apparent realism o f the scene by including mention o f spe
cific, real places. For example, in presenting the second siege o f Paris he
mentioned the Seine { 0 1 3.8.11), and for both sieges he named a real gate,
that o f Saint-Denis, as well as a series o f fictional ones.44
The mixture o f real and fictional places would not have troubled
Boiardo’s audience. Although the Ferrarese o f his day might read chan
sons de geste and French romances, these literary sources would not have
given them a precise sense o f French geography, and guidebooks for Paris
were not yet available.45 A few famous names sufficed for the poet, who
invented the rest. All this had changed by the time Ariosto wrote the
Furioso. During the long French occupation o f northern Italy, the Ferrar
ese had developed close connections with them, cultural as well as politi
cal and military.46 Ariosto himself tried to learn French and had met
Louis XII and Chevalier Bayard.47 Probably through such contacts, oral
rather than literary, Ariosto learned enough to produce what Bertoni con
sidered an exact description o f Paris, sufficient to make one think he had
visited the place.48
In two stanzas Ariosto sets up the topography o f Paris and with it
establishes the military logic o f his plot (O F 14 .10 4 -5 ):49
Such stanzas became standard for later historical epic. They were the
poet’s equivalent o f the maps the French used for their campaigns and
introduced to Italy.50 A t the same time Ariosto reflected the visual illustra-
110ns o f battles, which became detailed and meticulous with Pavia a de-
1 .ule later.51
With these stanzas Ariosto establishes two factors that make a military
action believable, and at the same time he tacitly corrects Boiardo’s pre
sentation. First o f all, Paris is a huge city, far larger than any in northern
Italy, and no army could surround it, as Boiardo imagines for both his
sieges, much less assault it from all sides.52 Second, the Seine is too deep
west o f the city. Rinaldo needs a bridge to cross it, Rodomonte must
swim that way out o f Paris, and the defeated regularly drown there.53
Agramante, therefore, must attack the Latin Quarter. As Ariosto explains,
a defeat on the Right Bank could leave his army cut off from its zone of
occupation to the south.54
Clear topographical description like this makes it possible to diagram
the battle o f Paris on a map, stage by stage, and Barbara Reynolds has
done this. Although I disagree with her on details, she has made the es
sential point (fig. 14).55 Ariosto gave his fictional war not just visual real
88 The M ovem ent into Realism an d H istory
nets, noyez-le dans une nuit profonde, et regardez le jeu bizarre des te-
nebres et des lumieres dans ce sombre labyrinthe d’edifices; jetez-y un
rayon de lune qui le dessine vaguement, et fosse sortir du brouillard les
grandes tetes des tours; ou reprenez cette noire silhouette, ravivez d’ombre
les mille angles aigus des fleches et des pignons, et faites-la saillir, plus
dentelee qu’une machoire de requin, sur le del de cuivre du couchant.58
The public buildings erected early in the sixteenth century did not alter
ibis Gothic appearance, even when the architect was Italian. Giovanni
Giocondo designed the Cour des Comptes in the Gothic style to harmo
nize with Sainte-Chapelle and the east wing o f the old palace in which
Ariosto has the Parisians take refuge and resist Rodomonte’s attack.59 All
new churches, furthermore, followed Gothic models throughout the six
teenth century.60
Private houses as much as public buildings gave Paris its characteristic
medieval appearance. Ariosto remarks that Paris formerly had almost all
wooden houses and that at present the proportion is still six out o f ten
(Of7 16.26). He alludes three times to the fire hazard they might pose
during a siege. The city might have burned down after one assault, if rain
had not come (O F 8.69-70). Rodomonte threatens to burn Paris (O F
14.65) and later runs through the city, setting fires (16 .26 -27). The houses
were mostly, in fact, what Americans would call Tudor; they had wood
beams and frame, with stone or loam between, covered with plaster, and
saw-toothed roofs.61 We must then imagine Rodomonte on a narrow,
unpaved street, trying to tear down the narrow houses o f two to four
stories on either side.62 He would have had little difficulty, not only be
cause he was a giant but also because the upper stories projected over the
street, with timbered overhanging roofs blocking out the sky.63
90 The M ovem ent into Realism a n d H istory
nr is. The old palace on the lie de la Cite. Photograph: Roger-Viollet, Paris. Litho-
||lii|i!i o f Nouveaux and Fourquemin (1839), after Pernot.
then ended in the palace wall and had two islets at its tip,76 plus a gre
chain across the river, which Ariosto remembered earlier (O F 14.106)
None o f these mistakes is serious, but taken together, they reduce th
poet’s realism more than he would have wished.
The second major limit was self-imposed. Ariosto confines his realis
to an episode, which he interweaves with Eastern stories (cantos 14—18)
Afterward he reverts to standard romance technique and follows th
model o f Albraca. The arrival o f six heroes suffices to defeat the Frenc
and drive them back into Paris ( O F 27.18-34), as nine had convulsed 1
Tatar armies in Boiardo ( 0 1 1.14.56-15.39).77 One group, then anothe
reverses the military situation, and the siege ends in a series o f ope
battles, briefly narrated, and in duels between heroes.
Boiardo determined the third limit for Ariosto. Though he might pr-
tend he was versifying Turpins history and use many historical tech
niques, Boiardo wrote fiction. Ariosto, as his continuator, could not alter
this fact, however close he might bring his story to life in the early cinque*
cento. Yet his insistence on a real Paris and on a war that could be dia
gramed led his followers in a very different direction, as they tried to
transcend all three limits. They wanted to remove errors, extend the real-,
ism, and minimize the fictional element. For both Ercilla and Tasso, this
meant insisting on history.
TASSO
Tasso inherited from Ariosto both a realistic visual style and methodical
attention to the topography and architecture that determined the nature
o f the military action he wished to represent. He developed the first, but
with regard to the second he found himself in difficulties similar to those
Ariosto had experienced when he chose to represent a real Paris.78
Stylistically, Tasso greatly developed Ariostos concern for the seasons.
In the Furioso the seasons determined the rhythm o f the campaign. Now
they affect tactics. Tasso would have writers carefully attend to the meteo
rological circumstances o f an action:79 “ Simile avertimento potrebbe
mostrare ove descrive la fame, la sete, la peste, il nascer de l’aurora, il cader
del sole, il mezzo giorno, la mezza notte, le stagioni de l’anno, la qualita de’
mesi o de’ giorni, o piovosi o sereni o tranquilli o tempestosi” (“ He should
show similar care where he describes hunger, thirst, disease, dawn, sunset,
midday, midnight, the seasons o f the year, the quality o f the months or o f
the days, whether rainy or clear or calm or stormy” ; Discorsi delpoema eroico
2.555). 1° canto 7, for example, the Crusaders lose a skirmish. A sudden
T H E S I E G E O F P A R IS
93
c .
^ S io t
'8
^ tL
c /enaculum C
j5?
i-i i *,v A y
.itH' ■ V a le o fG e h e n ^ , /
I igmc 16. Jerusalem under the Latin kings. From Sir Steven Runciman, A History o f
il'r ( imades, vol. 2 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1952). Reprinted with the
l'i (mission o f the Syndics o f Cambridge University Press.
hailstorm blows into their faces, blinding them, as Clorinda charges down
hill and breaks their attack ( G L 7.114—20). A t the same time the wind causes
much damage to the Crusader camp, ripping canvas, breaking tent poles,
and even blowing away whole tents (6Z. 7.122).80
I ike Ariosto, Tasso gives just enough topography to explain the strat
egy and tactics o f the siege (G L 3.55—56). The two hills o f Jerusalem make
1lie city impregnable on all but one side, the north, where Goffredo sets
Ins camp and where most o f the action occurs (fig. 16).81 Then there is
die problem o f water. The city has water from fountains and reservoirs,
hut outside there is nothing.82 Tasso later describes the terrible thirst dur
ing the heat wave that follows the first assault (G L 13.58—60). Like Paris,
h'liisalem had not changed significantly over the years. T h e Mamluks
94 The M ovem ent into Realism a n d H istory
and Turks had worked on the walls, but they still followed the old lines,
and their crenelations and square towers presupposed an old style o f at
tack.83 Modern notices would have confirmed what Tasso read in the
Crusader chronicles for all but the “torre angolare,” from which Clorinda
shoots so many leaders in the first assault (G L 11.27-28 ) and which no
longer existed. Tasso’s descriptions thus fit reasonably well both contem
porary and Crusader Jerusalem.
Nevertheless, Tasso experienced the same problems Ariosto had. Dis
crepancies came about either through his sources or through literary imi
tation. For example, Tasso assumes Aladino lived in the old Fortress A n
tonia, which Herod had built (G L 10.30-31) and which he himself read
about in Josephus.84 This structure vanished long before the Crusaders
arrived in Palestine.85 Tasso’s sources mentioned the Aqsa Mosque in the
southwest corner o f the Temple area, which the Christian rulers made
into their palace, but the Fortress Antonia stood north o f the Temple. Yet
Tasso tried to make his presentation accurate, even after he had com
pleted the poem; he asked Luca Scalabrino in Rome to find him a map
o f Jerusalem, since he could get none in Venice.86
Literary imitation accounts for the other mistakes. Galileo complained
that Erminia on the walls could not possibly distinguish individual Chris
tian knights during a dusty skirmish.87 Tasso, o f course, had a passage
from the Iliad (II. 3.161—244) in mind, where Helen from the walls o f
Troy points out to Priam the Achaean chiefs. Basically, Tasso erred when
ever he wanted women to watch chivalric action. Erminia‘stands on the
tower o f the Fortress Antonia and sees the whole battlefield north o f the
city (G L 6.62), and Clorinda watches Tancredi and Argante duel from a
hillock (6.26).88 None o f these vantage points exists.
T a s so n e ve rth e le ss s u c c e e d e d w e ll e n o u g h to c o n v in c e C h a t e a u b r ia n d ,
w h o w a lk e d a b o u t Je r u s a le m a n d c h e c k e d T a sso ’s re feren c es .89 T h e p o e m
assu m es a sp e c ific city, w i t h its w a lls , its s u r r o u n d in g s , a n d w e a t h e r c o n
d itio n s , w h ic h to g e th e r e x ist n o w h e r e else a n d d e te r m in e th e m ilit a r y
n a r r a tiv e .90
Tasso made two specific contributions to the poetry o f war. Looking
to the Iliad, he made a siege his plot,91 and he based his narrative on
written history. In canto 3 he has the Crusaders begin a formal siege o f
Jerusalem, which ends only with the last canto, when Tancredi captures
the Tower of David.92 The poet thus risked his whole epic on the presen
tation o f a military situation that Ariosto himself had confined to a few
cantos. This innovation alone indicates the stature o f the later poet and
differentiates the Gerusalemme from previous epic and romance. Yet the
T H E S I E G E O F P A R IS 95
puei took less o f a chance than it might seem to one looking solely at
IIInary traditions.
My Tasso’s day military defense once more prevailed over offense. A l-
leady in the late 1520s engineers had begun to surpass the achievements
•if 1 lie artillerists, and sieges grew longer and longer every year, culminat
ing in the three-year siege o f Ostend (1601-4). The Dutch War, which
tri the pattern for the late cinquecento, consisted mostly o f sieges.93
Through the siege o f Jerusalem Tasso could reflect many problems famil
iar'to contemporary soldiers: famine, weather conditions, desertion, sup
plies, and technology. He developed the last in a particularly striking
manner.
l asso puts much emphasis on technical paraphernalia. Siege towers in
particular dominate the second half o f his plot. In the first assault
( ioffredo’s tower and a battering ram below start cracking the north wall,
hut the tower breaks two wheels near town (G L 11.83-86), enabling Clo-
linda and Argante to burn it that night. Demons^then possess the only
wood that can supply the needed lumber,94 and the Christians must wait
lor Rinaldo before they can make new engines some weeks later. For the
second and successful assault, Guglielmo, a Genoese sailor, constructs
ihree iron-plated towers, which move on a hundred wheels and have rams
.11 the bottom, a bridge at the middle, and a tower above, and which can
shoot up higher than the city wall (G L 18.41-45). A war o f machines fol
lows. The enemy has canvas out to deaden missile blows and a giant ram,
which can swing out and smash GofFredo’s tower (G L 18 .6 8 -72, 80-101).
The Crusaders cut its cords with scythes. Then comes fire; the Chris-
1ians have almost used up the little water they have, and the steel cover
ing o f the tower is beginning to curl, when the wind blows the fire back
against the canvas protection o f the walls and starts a conflagration that
scatters the defenders. N ow the bridge goes down; the tower goes up,
overawing the Saracens (G L 90—91, 97—101); and the Crusaders gain the
wall and the city. W hen he presents the fighting around Paris, Ariosto
has nothing like this and never even mentions anything so unchivalric
as a siege tower. Tasso, in contrast, had to emphasize them because the
chronicles did, and he was determined to follow the historical record.95
Tasso believed that writers must base their plots on documented his
tory.96 True events, lost in legend, are not enough; the poet needs the
authority o f written records. For the Gerusalemme Tasso indeed went
back to primary sources, in particular to William o f Tyre, the best o f the
Crusader historians.97 The poet thus had highly accurate chronicles to
draw on, and these all required a battle o f machines. Tasso has Argante
96 The M ovem ent into Realism a n d H istory
spell out the moral for Tancredi: you come with all your men not
warriors but as inventors o f machines (G L 19.2—3).
Written records also served to limit the prowess o f his heroes. Tass
says to Scalabrino, “ Io non ricevo affatto nel mio poema quell’eccesso
bravura che ricevono i romanzi; cioe, che alcuno sia tanto superiore
tutti gli altri, che possa sostener solo un campo: e se pure il ricevo, e sol
ne la persona di Rinaldo” (“ I do not indeed allow in my poem that exces"
o f valor which the romances allow; i.e., that someone is so superior to alt
the others, that he alone can sustain a field. And if I do, nevertheless*;
allow it, it is only in the person o f Rinaldo”)-98 History does not allow
for the nine in Boiardo, who convulsed a million soldiers at Albraca (01
1.14.56-15.39), or for Ariostos six, who chased the French back to Paris
( O F 27.18-34). Even Tasso’s dynastic hero, the one exception to his rule,
at times merely exaggerates the brilliant fighting o f the historical Tan
credi.99
W ith Tasso the poetry o f war comes very close to versified history. The
reader can compare his poem with the Crusader chronicles, and his he
roes do not surpass the efforts o f ordinary mortals. His plot concerns
a siege with all its mechanical details, and it is the technology, specific
ally the siege towers, that raises a new issue in the relationship o f epic
to reality.
The Crusaders used no more than ladders for their first assault on
Jerusalem, a venture made quickly and without adequate equipment. On
the other hand, the successful second assault took two days, divided by a
night o f anxious waiting, with the siege towers close to the walls.100 Tasso
moved the events o f this first day back to the first assault and so gave it
epic stature. A t the same time, by making this change he further accentu
ated the importance o f siege towers, and the towers themselves indicate
a limit to his war poetry that he himself does not discuss.
Tasso had to describe the towers as carefully as he did because no one
used such devices any more and had not done so for more than a century.
In fact, the more the poet emphasized technology, the more he revealed
how much the age o f the Crusaders differed from his own. N or could the
anachronisms required to put Italian (as opposed to Norman) characters
in his poem counteract this sense o f long ago.101 Ariosto tried to preserve
a sense o f contemporaneity by his talk o f current wars, his use o f similes
involving guns and mines, and his inclusion o f the story o f Cimosco.
Tasso, however, could not use his methods. Classicism did not allow the
author speeches in his own right, and the sources predated artillery.
T H E S I E G E O F P A R IS 97
E R C IL L A
fort (19.51, p. 321) and on the beach (20.14, P- 32.6), where they had heavy
losses.109 They retreated in order, however, and the Spaniards followed
them at a moderate pace. T h e victors soon returned, fearing ambush. By
this time it was noon {Araucana, 20.18—19, P- 327). A n d so Ercilla closed
his account o f the action at Penco Fort, which began Mendoza’s cam
paign to reconquer Araucania (southern Chile).
In his story Ercilla shares with Tasso three developments o f Ariosto’s
technique, which the Spanish poet worked out independently: the precise
topography, the realistic style with its concern for weather, and the insis
tence on historical fact.
For the first, Ercilla describes the great Bay o f Concepcion economi
cally (Araucana, 16.17—18, p. 267) and gives sufficient geographical details
for the reader to understand the assault on the fort (fig. 17). But while we
can still check Ariosto and Tasso on Paris and Jerusalem, it is more
difficult to do so with Ercilla, since an earthquake in 1835 changed the
landscape o f the area.110
For the second, Ercilla inherited Ariosto’s realistic style and developed
a sense for seasons and weather much as did Tasso. A winter storm nearly
destroys the flagship as it approaches the bay, and the very next night
another flattens the encampment on Quiriquina Island (Araucana, 16 .3 2 -
33, p. 270). Winds and rains then keep the Spaniards detained on this
sterile island for two months (Araucana, 17.18, p. 285), during which pe
riod they must live on ship’s rations and sleep on wet ground (20.23-34,
p. 328).111 Winter floods likewise delay the reinforcements that were to
come by land {Araucana, 21.14, P- 344 )- The men finally construct the
fort in August (early spring), when the days lengthen {Araucana, 17.23,
p. 286).
Like Tasso, Ercilla insists on historical truth, and contemporary chron
icles confirm his presentation o f the battle.112 This insistence on history
has the same consequences for Ercilla as for Tasso. The poet keeps heroic
action within probable bounds, and here he allows no exceptions. For
example, in the episode o f Julian de Valenzuela, who fights Feniston by
the ships {Araucana, 19 .4 0 -4 4 , pp. 319-20 ), the whole action is probable.
The Indian jumps suddenly, striking with his club, a move Julian parries
by holding up his shield with both hands. Even so the club knocks the
shield on his head and stuns him. Valenzuela barely jumps to avoid a
second blow, which sinks deep into the ground. Meanwhile Julian scores
the Indian’s breast with his sword, and a reverse gets the middle o f the
jaw. Feniston waves his arms, but Julian stabs him three times with a
T H E S I E G E O F P A R IS 99
l if'iire 17. Map o f the war zone in Chile (Carahue is the old Imperial, Penco is the old
i tmcepcion). Courtesy the University o f Chicago Libraries.
dagger, killing him. Neither warrior has the prowess o f an Orlando, yet
the poet makes the encounter exciting by his clear visual style.
Ercilla’s major contribution to the poetry o f war also concerns history:
he writes an eyewitness report o f the battle at Penco. As far as I know, no
other poet— at least no other poet o f comparable reputation— had ever
done this before. Where Tasso with his epic o f a past war could look to
the classical precedent o f a Lucan or a Silius Italicus, not to mention
I rissino and the tradition o f the poemetti bellici among the Italians, Ercilla
claims he had no model but his own experience. H e tells us he helped
build the fort (Araucana, 17.19, p. 285) and did sentry duty the night after
IO O The M ovem ent into Realism a n d H istory
the battle (20.21, p. 327). H e says elsewhere that he wrote up events at'
night on whatever he could find: pieces o f letters, even leather, some
pieces so small they hardly held six verses.113 O f course, scholars have
qualified these claims. Like Tasso, Ercilla had his eye on Lucan.114 More
over, whatever versifying Ercilla may have done in Chile, he published;
the Araucaria in installments years later and so had time to elaborate on1-
his original material. The passage in which he claims to have written the
poem while on campaign, for example, came out two decades later.
These qualifications to the poet’s claim do not diminish his achieve
ment. Ercilla’s narrative differs in kind from that o f previous historical
epic, since he does not versify someone else s history. His epic itself func
tions as a primary source and has been used by historians, just as classi
cists use Xenophons Anabasis or Caesars Commentaries. His efforts h ad .
some influence, for other Spanish poets in their turn became wartime
correspondents. In his Historia de la nueva Mexico, for example, Captain
Gaspar de Villagra composed an epic that was also the basic account of
Onate’s colonization o f the upper Rio Grande. For these soldier-poets the
old debate between the sword and the pen ceases, for the two have be
come one.115 This development alone makes Ercilla the most original epic
poet o f his period, if not o f the tradition.
Ercilla’s innovation carried with it a far-reaching consequence, which
the duel o f Valenzuela and Feniston illustrates. The Spaniard’s victory
lacks tactical significance, for the Indians do not fall back when they see
their hero fall.116 N or do the much more elaborate heroics o f Gracolano
and Martin de Elvira affect the fighting at the fort (Araucana, 19.5—14,
19 -2 4 , pp. 312-14 , 315-16). In the Furioso, by contrast, during the last
stages o f the battle o f Paris, Dardinello’s heroics and speech alone restrain
his African troops from panic. W hen Rinaldo kills him, the Saracens flee
{OFi%.4 5-58 ,155—64), and the whole army must fall back on its fortified
camp. Heroic actions have consequences in Ariosto’s fiction, but not nec
essarily in Ercilla’s history.
Technology provides a partial explanation for this difference, since ar
tillery won the battle o f Penco.117 Ercilla acknowledges this in several
ways. Young Pinol seizes Martin de Elvira’s pike from the ditch and tries
to escape but gets only four steps before two large balls cut him in two,
from shoulder to breast {Araucana, 19 .15-17, pp. 314 -15 ).118 Guns quickly
fill the fosse with the dead. O ld chief Peteguelen climbs to the highest
part o f a bastion, only to have a ball take his head off and another kill the
four who follow him {Araucana, 19.35-36, p. 318).119 Afterward Ercilla
patrols a connecting slope, one side o f which is filled with the dead, shot
T H E S IE G E O F P A R IS IO I
liy harquebus and cannon (Araucana, 20.21, 25, 27, pp. 327-29 ). Spanish
Hiins simply blow the enemy away, and yet, paradoxically, these same
Huns help explain the persistence o f fiction in Ercilla’s narrative, when we
have expected it to disappear altogether.
I'he poet invents a heroic rampage for Tucapel, one o f the main char-
iu lers on the Indian side {Araucana, 19.31-34, 51-52, 2 0 .7 -17 , pp. 317-18,
!>i 22, 325-27). He runs with his club on the wall o f the fort, breaking
up men and arms. W hen the other Indians retire, he is rambling about
inside the fort, then retreats to a precipice and jumps, followed by a cloud
n! missiles. Hit in ten places, he turns in rage, vainly tries five or six times
10 find a way back up, while the missiles rain down upon him, and finally
lushes to the beach and breaks through to the Indians retreating there.
Krcilla models this scene on Ariosto as well as on Virgil, for it is Rodo-
monte and not Turnus who wants to return and who exits to a cloud of
similes as well as missiles. Moreover, where Virgil gestured toward legend
ary history, Ariosto presented a purely fictional character, and so does
I'.icilia. I will argue later that Tucapel is a fictional character (see chapter
H). Certainly his action at Penco is fictional, whether the character is~oE
not. And so we have come full circle. Virgilian imitation initially signaled
.1 movement toward realism. It now indicates the persistence o f the fic-
lional even in this most historical o f epics.
For an explanation one can appeal again to the problem o f artillery.
My this argument the poet wants heroes whose actions count, like those
of romance. Ercilla finds such warriors on the Indian side, because they
do not have firearms and prefer to fight at close quarters.120 He can there
fore project on them literary models. The fictional Tucapel, like Turnus
or Rodomonte, has the prowess that might have turned around a battle.
I bis argument by itself, however, does not account for the poet’s literary
imitation. The Indian victory games o f cantos 1 0 - n and the dialogue
between Lautaro and Gualcolda do not present warfare, and Ercilla does
not use such inventions in all his narratives o f battle.121 Mareguano and
I'uren, for example, lack them. He does require fiction for Penco, and the
example o f Tasso points to a further reason.
Sieges as well as firearms require a certain amount o f fiction from a
poet. Like Ercilla, Tasso uses literary imitation to intimate that a hero’s
action can determine the outcome o f an assault. He uses Clorinda and
Rinaldo for this purpose and invents actions for his siege, even though it
occurred long before the development o f the gun. In the first assault on
(erusalem Clorinda determines its outcome. She wounds or kills a long
list o f Christian leaders ( G L 11.41—45)122 and eventually turns the assault
102 The M ovem ent into Realism a n d H istory
back when she hits Goffredo in the leg (11.54-59). A ll see him leave, and:
the Crusaders lose heart. T h ey recover somewhat when he returns, but
not enough to reach the walls, and Clorinda instigates the burning o f the
siege tower that night. She is, o f course, an invented character, and Tasso'
imitates both II. 11.2 4 8 -32 7 and Ae. 12 .311-4 4 0 for the wounding of'
Goffredo. As with Ercilla, literary imitation indicates fiction.
For the second assault Tasso uses his dynastic hero and ascribes all
decisive actions to him. Rinaldo leads his adventurers by ladder up the
toughest part o f the wall, clearing the way for the rest (G L 18 .72-79 ) and
then, rushing along that wall, breaks up Solimano’s defense against the l
great siege tower so the historical Goffredo can reach the wall (99) and
plant his banner.123 The Crusades provide examples o f heroism that made
a tactical difference, and Tancredi is Rinaldo’s historical model. Sieges,
however, whether in the Middle Ages or the Renaissance, did not nor
mally allow for spectacular acts by individuals, and Jerusalem was no ex
ception. Tasso therefore resorts to fiction, just as Ercilla does at Penco.
Perhaps there was something quixotic in the whole Renaissance at
tempt to depict sieges realistically. Homer, some medieval romancers,
Boiardo, and Ariosto had plots that presupposed sieges, but the poets
avoided their representation.124 Tasso and Ercilla, on the other hand,
needed fiction to maintain epic heroism. Yet Virgil had sieges, and it is a
strength of Roman epic that it did present such scenes. War, at least in
the West, has more often been an affair of sieges than the fast-moving
offense popular since Frederick the Great. And war was the principal sub
ject o f epic and o f many Renaissance romances. These poets, Roman and
Renaissance, tried to give a rounded picture o f war, and sieges provided
some o f their most powerful scenes: the fall o f Troy, Rodomonte in Paris.
Chateaubriand’s praise o f Tasso indicates the goal these poets shared:
“ C ’est surtout le poeme des soldats; il respire la valeur et la gloire; et,
comme je l’ai dit dans Les martyres, il semble ecrit au milieu des camps
sur un bouclier” (“ It is above all the poem o f soldiers. It breathes valor
and glory; and, as I said in The Martyrs, it seems written in the midst of
armies on a shield”) .125
-----F I V E -----
Am ong the three major poets o f historical heroic poetry during the
Renaissance Camoes maintains the mean. He kept fiction to a minimum
in Os Lusiadas, mostly confined to his epic machinery,4 and had the gods
in turn allegorize aspects o f his narrative, whether as planets,5 elements,6
or ethical qualities.7 For his main plot Camoes chose Vasco da Gama’s ,
great voyage o f discovery, the journey to India. For the rest he covered'
the history o f Portugal,8 announcing this intent in his invocation (Lusia- 1
das, 1.2) and presenting it through flashbacks and prophecies. The recall T
o f medieval history takes up roughly one-third o f the epic,9 and prophecy ’
o f the imperial future occupies much o f canto 10 .10 He thus produced a J
national epic in which plot and history blend almost without difficulty.
I say “almost” because Camoes does not provide rhetorically convincing j
situations for his medieval retrospectives. It is natural to have the Catual
ask Paulo da Gama about the banners on his ship,11 yet this is the same
person who later takes bribes from the Muslim merchants in Calicut
(Kozhikode) and tries to block the Portuguese return (Lusiadas, 8.56). He
might make a curious but hardly a sympathetic listener. Much less plaus
ible is the situation Camoes imagines for Malindi. It is one thing for I
Dido, already falling in love, to ask Aeneas about his escape from Troy,
quite another for a local African ruler to sit through a long recital o f
Portuguese history that continues across three cantos o f the epic.12
Camoes thus shows, if only slightly, the strain history places on the narra
tive poet. This becomes much more evident in Ercilla and Tasso.
Don Alonso de Ercilla began his Araucana with the initial Indian re
volt in Chile and followed a chronological order. He promised to sing
how the Spaniards with their swords forced unconquered Arauco to bow
its neck to a hard yoke (Araucana, 1.1.1, p. 1). Later, however, when he
published part 2 o f his poem (1578), he remarked that the Araucanians
were still fighting and the war incomplete.13 N o r had they stopped a
decade later, at the time Ercilla published part 3 (1589). The young poet-
soldier of the late 1550s could not have guessed that he had chosen one o f
the three wars that continued through the forty-year reign o f Philip II.14
The Araucanian war long outlasted both the poet and his king.
Ercilla died, leaving his poem unfinished, or so it is believed, because
the Araucana promises more to come: the election o f a new leader to
replace Caupolican and the battles that followed (Araucana 3.36.43,
p. 586). In its present form the romance concludes with a canto justifying
Philip’s invasion o f Portugal, an action that unfortunately has nothing to !
do with the Araucanian wars. One can only speculate where Ercilla him-
PRO BLEM S FO R T H E PO E T lO J
sell would have ended his romance.15 The assault on Quipeo and the
poet’s departure would have provided logical closure o f sorts. Quipeo
ended Don Garcia’s campaign and put a temporary stop to hostilities,
•ind Ercilla refers to it. But these events occurred after the poet’s arrest
.md threatened execution, a painful matter to which he alludes in the
same passage (Araucana, 3.36.34-36, p. 584).16 Ercilla would have had to
describe both Don Garcia’s personal heroism at Quipeo and his own de
parture for trial in Lima, sent there by this same hero. The juxtaposition
would have ended the romance in dissonance.
Whatever the conclusion he might have provided for the Araucana,
Krcilla would still have been open to criticism by contemporaries for his
1 lioice o f subject. Tasso, developing an Aristotelian point, argued that a
writer should not choose a topic like a whole war, since it was too large
even for epic.17 His argument would apply doubly to the Araucana, since
Ilie war Ercilla chose to narrate had no natural closure.
Tasso himself faced the opposite problem. Where Ercilla struggled
with too much material, Tasso did not have enough. He wanted to por-
II ay the First Crusade, but if he did so, he would have to cover the capture
nl Jerusalem, which was the goal o f the First Crusade and the emotional
appeal behind all later crusades as well. The earlier story o f that expedi-
1ion, the struggles and march across Anatolia and the long siege and battle
.11 Antioch, while more varied and exciting in themselves than the action
.11 Jerusalem, would not have compelled attention from an audience that
Mill considered the recovery o f Jerusalem a legitimate goal. The poet had
10 concentrate on the capture o f the holy city.
Jerusalem did not offer Tasso much historical material. The siege had
l isted only a month, and the Christians had spent most o f that time
building siege machines.18 Tasso’s friend, the Latin poet Pier Angeli da
[Link], who wrote a competing epic on the First Crusade, the Siriade,
ixached the siege only in his last 143 verses.19 This brevity reflected the
sources available to both poets. The chroniclers Robert o f Rheims and
Paolo Emilio each devoted only one to two pages to the siege, and even
William o f Tyre, Tasso’s principal source, had to^expand his account arti-
lidally to give Jerusalem proper emphasis.20 Rhetorical amplification, un-
i liaracteristic for William, marks book 8 o f his Historia rerum in partibus
transmarinis gestarum, where he narrates the siege, and in book 9, which
lovers the battle o f Ascalon, he adds biographical anecdotes about
( ioffredo. By careful use o f these sources, Tasso found enough material
Ior about five cantos (G L 1, 3 ,1 1 ,1 8 —19), or a quarter o f his epic— enough
io 6 The M ovem ent into Realism a n d H istory
to make a brief narrative poem, but hardly enough for a major work that
would make his reputation as a great artist. In contrast, the voyage o f I
Vasco da Gama takes up more than half o f Os Lusiadas.21
Tasso could not avail himself o f the means Camoes used to fill up the ]
rest o f his epic. Since the individual Crusaders came from all over western
Europe, Tasso could not turn the expedition into a national epic.22 He
could not appeal to an Italian past or future; moreover, the First Crusade
did not invite such a technique, even if conceived on an international]
scale. Prophecies would have revealed the long defeat that marked later,
crusades, a retreat before Mamluks and Ottomans that ultimately led to !
naval battles close to Italy itself. A n d o f course the expedition o f the
1090s, the first such venture attempted, had no prehistory. Tasso needed
to look elsewhere for historical material.
Tasso solved his difficulty with historical material by a means I have*
called transposition. As he explained in the late 1560s, in his Discorsi deU
I'arte poetica, the poet can change the means and circumstances in the
historical record and confound the times and order o f events.23 The Cru
sader assaults on Jerusalem provide an example. T h e ajrmy made two at
tacks, separated by a month. Since the first attack, in early June, ended
quickly and lacked excitement, Tasso transposed to it details from the
first day o f the second assault, such as the elaborate struggle around
Goffredo’s siege tower and the end o f that day’s fighting, with the tower
stalled near the walls and under guard.24 Tasso thus kept the chronology
o f two assaults, separated by a month’s time, but made the first one
grander, more worthy o f epic, by moving to it particulars from the sec
ond, successful attack. So explained, transposition seems a fairly straight
forward procedure. This kind o f transposition, however, involving only
details from the historical siege of Jersulaem, could not have solved
Tasso’s problem o f the lack o f sufficient historical material for a long
poem. In fact, Tasso went much further.
Canto 9, which presents Solimano’s night attack on the Crusader
camp, shows how far reaching and complicated transposition could be in
Tasso’s hands. In this respect the canto resembles an archaeological site
where a grand superstructure masks a series o f previous buildings that
form its base and to an extent determine its shape. Patient digging reveals
three levels o f occupation below the present, going backwards in time,
and four structures, two on the highest or most recent level. In other
words, Tasso based his narrative on two actions that occurred during the
siege o f Jerusalem (the most recent level), on another that took place at
Antioch, and finally (the lowest level, which determines the contours o f
PRO BLEM S FOR T H E PO ET 107
11if site), on the battle o f Dorylaeum, in which the Crusaders fought Soli-
11 m h o , who tried to block their passage across Anatolia. I will follow the
wine procedure as the archaeologist, beginning with the superstructure,
01 l asso’s version o f the military engagement.
l asso assumes that the Crusaders’ old enemy, Solimano, now leads a
kind o f Arab irregulars in Palestine. The Egyptian caliph sent him there
with much gold to draw Arab support and to organize raids for plunder
(< 11. 9.6), and Solimano presents the attack on the Crusader camp in such
liT in s, telling the Arabs that the Crusaders have the spoils o f Asia (9.17).
So far, Solimano has done well. Although the Arabs have mostly burned
Imvels and carried off cattle and sheep (G L 9.10), they have managed to
nit Christian communications with the coast (9.7) and have stolen the
supplies intended for the army, which a fleet had brought into Jaffa (5.87-
NH). The Crusaders now must worry about famine, and they have been
wilding foragers as far as Gaza (G L 8.51). Solimano, moreover, has de-
Mtoyed the Danish party under Sveno that was coming to Jerusalem—
mu escalation o f guerrilla activity that leads to the ambitious attempt in
tiin io 9.
l asso conveys the military logic behind the attack mostly through the
ilr vil’s agent, the Fury Aletto. The demon acts out o f desperation, for the
( fusaders have finished constructing siege machines (G L 8.85) and will
shortly attack Jerusalem. Because the Egyptian army has not yet as
sembled, Aletto uses the available means. Knowing that the Arabs have
ill ready arranged to run supplies into the city (G L 6 .10 -n ), Aletto decides
10 1urn this event into a surprise attack. T h e Arabs will assault the Cru
sader camp from the west,25 at the same time as the Jerusalem garrison
,11 lacks it from the south. Such an assault would serve a double strategic
objective. First o f all, Aletto wants at all costs to upset the Crusader time
table and to delay the assault. Second, she hopes to drive them out of
ilicir fortified camp, north o f the city. The invaders have surrounded this
1 amp with a ditch and a wall (G L 3.6 6 ,9.19, 9.54) to enable them to resist
incursions from any direction. The Saracens must break up this defense,
if they hope ever to dislodge the Crusaders from Jerusalem by force.
Such an attack has little chance o f success. Although Solimano still has
with him a band o f Turks who wear proper armor, a thousand in all (G L
>1.89), his Arabs lack armor (9.77) and the Crusaders regard them with
i ontempt. Goffredo calls them a vile mob (G L 9.47), and Argillano dis
misses them as an inept people, the dregs o f the world (9.7 6). Only coor
dination with the city garrison and the element o f surprise give them any
i lunce whatever. Aletto and Solimano see to the latter. The audacity o f
io8 The M ovem ent into Realism an d H istory
mi ovcred their supplies. They also regained their morale, which had been
diiiken by, among other things, the destruction o f Sveno’s party crossing
Anatolia. They sent part o f the spoils back to the fleet, and the local
Sytian Christians began to help the Latins once again.
Antioch thus provided Tasso with a general model for his battle. It
Involved two enemy forces, one inside and one outside a city; was fought
within view o f the city, near the Crusader camp; and required the inter
vention o f Goffredo. Furthermore, the presence o f the city forces limited
Ilie ( Christian victory, which at the same time involved a moral reversal
rttid the passing o f the initiative to the invaders. Tasso simply substituted
Arab irregulars for the Turks who attacked the supply train.
Although it provided a model, the Antioch episode does not explain
the tactical development o f the battle, stage by stage. In Tassos version
whole armies fought. Solimano attacked the Crusader camp itself, timing
Ins assault for dawn. A series o f late arrivals determined the Crusader
vu tory: first Goffredo, then the fifty heroes. All this Tasso found at Dory-
Iftru m rather than Antioch.36
After the capture o f Nicaea (Iznik), the Crusaders divided their army
into two parts for the march across Anatolia. In this fashion they would
imsc the supply problem. Boemondo led the van, which consisted o f Nor
mans from both southern Italy and northern France, plus the troops o f
ilie counts o f Flanders and Blois, and the Byzantine escort led by Taticius
( Iasso’s Tatino). Behind came the men from Toulouse, Lorraine, and Ver-
mandois, led by Raimondo. Meanwhile Kilig: Arslan ibn Siileyman ibn
Kmlumish (Solimano) had prepared a trap for them by Dorylaeum (near
the modem Eskisehir). His army, screened by a line o f hills, waited for
the Crusaders to come over a pass to a plain, following the old Byzantine
military road. Solimano did not realize, however, that another group was
approaching behind the Normans. He thought he would trap the whole
< fusader force, and this mistake explains the Turkish defeat.37
[Link] his namesake in the Liberata, Solimano hoped to surprise his
enemy with a dawn attack, and as in the poem, he failed. Scouts picked
up the Turkish presence the night before,38 so Boemondo had the Nor
mans camp by the Sari-su or River Bathys and sent a messenger to Rai-
mondo for aid.39 Emilio, assuming Renaissance procedure, claims that
Boemondo tried to fortify the camp but had not completed the defenses
when the Turks hit them.
The Turks used their normal tactics, shooting clouds o f arrows at the
Normans and attacking them from all sides.40 A detachment crossed the
liver and broke into the Christian camp, killing the women and children
112 The M ovem ent into Realism a n d H istory
who were there. Meanwhile the Crusader front line, half panicked,
back on the camp. T h e rliere mass o f the troops relieved the enemy pre
sure there.41 A t the same time the Turks found to their dismay that the
arrows could not harm those wearing armor, but they still kept up
arrow shower for some hours.
A t this point the other part o f the Crusader army, which Boemond
had summoned the night before, began to arrive. Goffredo and U go <
first, appearing on the pass above, and charged, clearing away the Turlfl
from the area by the camp. T h e other Crusaders heard the Lorraineti
battle cry and recovered confidence, while the surprised Turks lost the
impetus. N o w Raimondo showed up, while Ademaro, bishop o f Le Fuji
brought his army around behind the Turks.42 T h e Franks charged, and
the Turks, upset by Ademaro’s group, fled eastward. T h ey never cha
lenged the Crusaders again.
Dorylaeum gave Tasso a tactical model for canto 9. Solimano leads I
surprise attack, timed for dawn, on a fortified Crusader camp. Scout)
pick up the advance, and word gets back to Goffredo. Meanwhile th|
Saracens hit the Crusaders from more than one direction and break into
the camp, provoking a crisis in morale. The arrival o f Goffredo reinvigo
rates the Christians, and the later appearance o f still more Crusader!
troops panics the enemy troops, who now flee. Afterward Solimano
no longer lead his own troops against the invaders.
In addition to the tactics Tasso would have found in his sources a siz-J
able Arab contingent serving under Solimano. Robert o f Rheims gives!
lists o f the enemy forces, which include Saracens, Arabs, and Agarenes, j
all terms for the same people.43 Moreover, after the battle Solimano turn
back a party o f Arabs from Syria coming to his aid.44 Dorylaeum thus!
probably suggested to Tasso the whole idea o f making this Seljuk Turk!
the leader o f an Arab force.
Dorylaeum further allowed Tasso to aggrandize the skirmishes by Jeru- j
salem and make them worthy o f epic.45 One o f five major military actions j
in the First Crusade, Dorylaeum probably so shocked everyone in the]
area— it involved the complete defeat o f Seljuk Turks, who controlled'I
much o f the Near East and had recently conquered Anatolia— that no 1
Muslim army put up a serious fight afterward. It is the equivalent in plot]
to what Virgilian imitation did for Tassos style.46 A n example that unites!
both is the poet’s remark that Solimano and Goffredo duel for the rule o f l
Asia (G L 9.50), a grandiose statement that hardly fits a struggle in Pales-T
tine, where Solimano was not even a ruler, but would fit Asia M inor and|
Dorylaeum, at least as a pardonable exaggeration.
PRO BLEM S FO R T H E PO ET 113
*
Idealization often follows from elevation in plot and style, but Tasso
IihiiuI this already in his sources. William o f Tyre makes a hero o f
I 11til 1cdo not only at Dorylaeum but throughout his narrative o f the First
I l made. He introduces the Lorrainer as a “vir quoque strenuus et in-
djptis dominus” (“a man also active and a distinguished lord” ; H R
hi /..|5), stresses the honor he receives in Hungary (2.3.75) and his delicate
htle at Constantinople (2.6—12.90), and concludes his story with bio-
|laphical anecdotes about the duke.47 For the First Crusade William used
Alhrn o f Aix almost exclusively,48 who in turn drew on an eyewitness
It 11 Hint by one o f Goffredo’s soldiers for the march across Anatolia.49
The idealization o f Goffredo thus goes back ultimately to original oral
Iftiimony o f the First Crusade. Tasso simply developed it. He had to
llinke some adjustments, however, to fit this material to his epic.
Western epic and romance traditionally scorned missile shooters (see
tllttpier 6), so the writers imagined the Eastern enemy fighting more or
If** in Western fashion. Tasso does the same in the Liberata, this time,
however, with a basis in reality. Tasso assigns to Solimano an Arab not a
llukish army, and Arab horsemen, like the Frankish, fought at close
i|liartcrs with lance and sword.50
liisso also struggled to eliminate anachronisms. This is clear from a
I nmparison o f the earlier draft o f canto 9 to the vulgate, or printed, text.
(>1 die three manuscripts that preserve the earlier version, I cite from the
Angelini manuscript (An), since it alone has been frequently printed.51 In
li liisso tends to think o f Solimano and the Arabs as foot soldiers. The
Imsi marches to the Crusader camp (An 9 = vulg. 13), and Solimano
walks quickly, getting near the camp (12 = 16). Twice the poet has the
iiiiibiguous term corre (runs), which could describe movement by either
>1 loot soldier or a cavalryman. Solimano runs before'the rest against the'
guards (18 = 22) and runs to Lesbino’s aid (77 = 85). Tasso probably
was thinking o f the contemporary situation, both militarily and socially.
Militarily most soldiers now fought on foot, and socially only aristo-
II .its in Italy could afford a horse. The poet would have to remind himself
dial Arabs rode to battle and that Bedouin tribes, though poor by
Western standards, regularly used horses and camels. O f these slips Tasso
1 aught only the last, putting Solimano on a horse when he goes to Les-
Ilino’s aid.52 ^ ____ ___
Canto 9 shows that/transpositiommeant much more for Tasso than
die brief description in his Academy lectures might indicate. He did not
simply change the means and circumstances o f some skirmishes by Jeru
salem or confound their order in time. Rather, the poet superimposed
114 The M ovem ent into Realism a n d H istory
(“the deeds o f kings and leaders and the sad wars”), which began “ in me-|
dias res.” 63 Homer did not narrate the whole war or the fall o f Troy, but
rather confined his tale to the crisis o f the siege, when the Achaeans, frus*|
trated over the long delay, were ready to go home, and quarreling ha
deprived them o f their greatest warrior.64 The Trojan failure to expel the
Achaeans under these conditions led directly to the death o f their owii
greatest hero and forecast the fall o f their city. Tasso imitates this patterna
Though he must concentrate on Jerusalem and the end o f the First Cru-^
sade, he presents it as if it were Antioch, the siege that determined th<|
success or failure o f that campaign.
Critics have long noted Tassos imitation o f the Iliad, and the poetl
himself said that the Gerusalemme resembles the Greek epic for the action!
at Jerusalem.65 Certainly both poems concentrate their main action in a]
small area: Troy and its coastal zone, Jerusalem and the plain north of
town. Tasso further imitates the central plot o f the Iliad, when he begins|
“ in medias res” and has Rinaldo withdraw from camp because o f a quar
rel.66 Finally, the poems are about the same length, considerably longer 1
than other classical epics, such as the Odyssey, Aeneid, Lusiadas, and Para-1
dise L o st?
This massive transposition and the imitation o f the Iliad had impli- 1
cations for Tasso’s neoclassicism. Aristotle preferred the complex to the f
simple plot, the Odyssey to the Iliad.6* The complex plot often involved j
flashbacks and prophecies. Odysseus, for example, narrates his previous
adventures at Phaiakia ( Od. 9 -12 ) and hears o f the future from Teiresias
(11.90-151). Virgil also used retrospectives and views o f the future for his j
Aeneid, and his choice had great importance for Tasso, since the Italian 1
poet derived his notion o f epic style from that work, which he often imi- i
tated, line by line, word by word. We have also seen that Camoes used ;
the same technique to integrate Portuguese history with his epic,69 yet
Tasso has no temporal excursus other than the obligatory dynastic proph
ecy connected to Rinaldo’s shield. Instead he follows the Iliad and pro
duces a plot that begins “ in medias res” but thereafter follows a chrono
logical order with only the briefest references to past or future.70
Tasso’s own use o f transposition prevented him from imitating the
backward and forward movement o f an Odyssey or Aeneid, even if he had
desired to do so. H ow could he have composed a flashback, when he had
already crammed so much o f the First Crusade, so many particulars o f j
the whole campaign, into that brief month at Jerusalem? The prehistory
had become part, o f the present.71 The poet’s whole procedure goes back
to the very beginnings o f the composition o f the Liberata.
PRO BLEM S FO R T H E PO E T 117
Liberata.81 Fantasy, not merely fiction, dominates cantos 12 -16 and takes
up significant portions o f cantos 17 and 18. Tasso had anticipated these
wonders already in his Discorsi dell'artepoetica, when he argued that epic
required marvels (1.354—55). This development linked him securely to the
earlier romance tradition, to Pulci, Boiardo, and Ariosto, who all in
cluded magical operations, enchanted gardens, and exotic locales in their
poems. Tassos audience would have expected such scenes, and this mate
rial probably accounts in no small way for the popular success o f the
Liberata.
Even Tassos Iberian counterparts, with their severer experiments in
historical epic and romance, did not altogether escape the influence o f
the love god and his fantasies. Ercilla began by rejecting love from the
Araucana, revising Ariostos opening lines:82
p. 521).88 Like Tasso the Spanish poet requires diversion. Camoes, in con-
1l ast, does not. He could mostly ignore love fictions or histories, since he
chose a voyage and not a war for his topic.
Although both war poets, Tasso and Ercilla, included love stories, they
differed radically in the proportions they allotted to love and fiction in
their poems. Roughly three o f thirty-seven cantos in the Araucana con
cern love, and another three and a half present Indian athletics and Fiton’s
marvels, so a total o f six and a half, or about one-sixth o f the whole.89 As
brcilla explains in one place (Araucana, 1.15.4-5, p. 240), he simply has
too much material to cover. Tasso, as we have seen, did not, and as a
result he ended up balancing the two, making his epic an equal blend of
the historical and the fictional, o f war and love.
P A R T T H R E E &x
The Gun,
or the New
Technology
-----S I X -----
Negative Critiques
Ludovico Ariosto and John M ilton
TM
12 4 The N ew Technology
Middle Ages. T h e works o f both groups embodied this code. Thus, the
poems o f such writers as Camoes and Ercilla present a mirror image of
the romance world created by poets who espoused the negative critique.
H ow could the chivalric code support both o f the opposed positions?
The concept o f fraud, the vice traditionally opposed to the chivalric code
in the older poetry, provides a key. Ariosto was the first to work out its
problematic.
T h e epic poet was not obliged to reflect contemporary events, so Ari
osto’s inclusion o f the gun in the Furioso is unusual. His ostensible topic,
the wars o f Charlemagne, long predated the age o f the gun, and even his
romance sources o f the high and later Middle Ages came from a time
before the use o f cannon. Romance writers generally included present
customs by a practice o f discreet anachronism. Malory, for example,
presupposes fifteenth-century-style tournaments in his translation of
thirteenth-century texts. The gun, however, did not fit readily into this
practice, because the changes it introduced in warfare were fundamental
and far-reaching. Nonetheless, Ariosto began by presupposing the pres
ence o f cannonry, much as M alory had assumed tournaments. He made
direct references to guns in the personal introductions he gave to his
cantos. These remarks could have encouraged the positive or modernist
position that Camoes later argued. Afterward, however, Ariosto decided
to introduce the gun directly to his plot, and when he did so he judged
it negatively. This is his most important contribution to the literature o f
firearms, and it provides the focus o f this chapter. .
Ariosto had good reason to support the modernist position. His lord,
the Ferrarese ruler Alfonso I d’Este, encouraged technological experi
ment. Ferrara was the first city to have angle bastions on its walls— that
is, the first to use guns aggressively.2 By his death Alfonso had collected
300 cannon, had personally supervised the casting o f some, and had done
his own shooting at Legnago, where his guns gave thirty to forty shots a
day.3 His cuirass bore the design o f a flaming bombshell when he fought
at Ravenna, and Titian portrayed him with his hand on a gun muzzle.4
Ariosto himself knew o f two battles where the Este artillery was decisive.
At the second battle o f Polesella (22 December 1509), the Este cannon
destroyed a Venetian fleet on the Po.5 The battle o f Ravenna (1512)
marked his poetry, even though he visited the battlefield only on the day
after the event.
Alfonso and his cannon made victory possible for the French in their
battle with the Spaniards at Ravenna. The duke contributed two-thirds
N E G A T I V E C R I T IQ U E S I2 J
ill ilie cannon. After the initial barrage he turned them sideways to shoot
,u toss the field and forced the Spanish heavy cavalry to charge. This ac-
i um in turn made the Spanish light cavalry opposite the cannon attack
i lie Este artillery. In both cases the Spaniards left a strong defensive posi-
lion and attacked a superior force. Ariosto twice compliments Alfonso
lor his tactics (O F 14.2, 33.40). They demonstrated what Cerignola
(1103), Genoa (1507), and Agnadello (1509) had already intimated, that
guns could turn around a battle. This time artillery broke up the then
standard defensive-offensive strategy, whereby a smaller army took a forti
fied position and destroyed its larger enemy as the enemy attacked. The
Spaniards at Ravenna were following this principle and had some o f their
guns placed defensively, as support for the infantry. By turning his guns,
Alfonso forced them to leave a favorable position.6 Ariosto assumes this
technology in the Olimpia tale. Cimosco’s gun is o f the new versatile
type, light enough so that Orlando can pick it up. Cimosco uses it for
sieges, against field camps ( O F 9.30—31),7 and tactically against a horse
man. Such uses, as much as Ariostos comments, show the new style of
warfare.
Ariosto wrote in a city that could have encouraged a positive attitude
10 innovation. N o t only was Ferrara quick to adopt the gun, it also was
where the modernists later defended Ariosto himself against the an-
i ients.8 Cinzio and others argued that the ancients had not anticipated
romances because they had a different culture and language. The new
society justified new literary forms, and Ariosto’s romance served broader
purposes than the epics o f Homer and Virgil. Gunpowder and cannon
suggested a similar argument, for the technology was unknown to antiq
uity.9 T h e new warfare and the new poetry could have supported each
other, and Ariosto might have anticipated Camoes by forty years. He did
not do so, however, and his comments on Ravenna reveal some o f his
reasons for adopting the negative critique o f the gun.
Ravenna was perhaps the bloodiest battle o f the century. Fourteen
thousand people died, and at one point Alfonsos guns shot down men
on both sides. Jacopo Guicciardini wrote to his brother the historian about
these guns: “ It was a horrible and terrible thing to see how every shot o f the
artillery made a lane through those men-at-arms [the Spanish heavy cav
alry], and how helmets with the heads inside them, scattered limbs,
halves o f men, a vast quantity, were sent flying through the air.” In Elegy
10 Ariosto described what he had seen the day after: the dead so crowded
that no earth was visible for miles.10 The major impact o f Ravenna on
126 The N ew Technology
Ariosto’s poetry is seen not in his stray comments but in his descriptio
o f the carnage at Paris, the central military action o f his epic. He mak
the comparison explicit:
Ravenna both justifies the modernist position and explains Ariostos re
luctance to develop its implications.11
W hen Ariosto, now retired, revised his poem the last time for publica
tion, he introduced to it the Olimpia story plus a direct meditation on
guns, which he inserted at canto 11. In these passages he argues the stan
dard negative theory o f the gun: that it was a demonic invention made
in the north.
Orlando says, when he throws Cimosco’s gun into the North Sea:
O m a le d e tto , o a b o m in o s o o r d ig n o ,
c h e f a b r ic a to n e i ta r ta r e o f o n d o
N E G A T IV E C R I T IQ U E S 127
Paradise Lost Milton compares Satan’s troops to the Germanic tribes that
swept away the western Roman Empire:
A m u lt it u d e , lik e w h ic h th e p o p u lo u s N o r t h
P o u r ’d n e v e r f r o m h e r fro z e n lo in s , t o p ass
Rhene o r t h e D a n a w , w h e n h e r b a r b a r o u s S o n s
C a m e lik e a D e lu g e o n t h e S o u th , a n d s p re a d
B e n e a th G ib ra lta r to t h e L yb ia n s a n d s .
{ P L 1.351-55)
The poet closes the passage alluding to the Vandals, themselves bywords
for the destruction o f art.20
T h e hint o f barbarism suggests in classical form the main critique o f
the gun, which again Ariosto originally expressed in very clear terms. The
destructive power o f the gun, however, did not by itself bring about the
poet’s denunciation, which he wrote long after Ravenna. Rather, the de
velopment o f the harquebus, which immediately preceded the composi
tion o f the Olimpia episode, gave rise to his moral analysis that modern
technology was incompatible with chivalry (fig. 18).
Ariosto never describes Cim oscos gun except by periphrasis, and al
though these descriptions indicate a cannon (O A 9 .75), the imprecision
allows him to have it function differently. It does not blow o ff hands and
scatter half-bodies, the way Alfonsos cannon did at Ravenna. Instead it
kills people the way a bullet would. Olimpia’s father dies, shot between
the eyes. Her first brother, defending their field camp, receives a stroke
that breaks through his armor and goes into his heart. During another
battle her second brother is hit fleeing. A ball goes through his shoulder
and out his breast (O A 9 .30-31). This sort o f thing happened frequently
in the mid-i520s, when the harquebus replaced crossbows and all other
missile-throwing devices as a tactical weapon.
The harquebus had long been an important military weapon, but ini
tially it was used more for harassment o f the enemy than for precision
fire, and it was more important in sieges than in battle.21 The matchlock,
introduced at the end o f the fifteenth century, gave the weapon greater
accuracy. The gunner could now shoot from the shoulder and sight along
the barrel, and by the 1490s groups o f mounted harquebusiers appeared.22
In the next decade they took important roles in major battles, beginning
with Cerignola (1504).23 Further technological refinements gave the har
quebus in the 1520s a new and decisive importance. The harquebus now
had a greater range (200 meters), and its bullets could pass through any
cuirass.24 Harquebusiers formed their own companies and used alternat-
N E G A T I V E C R I T IQ U E S 129
figure 18. Harquebus, with its trigger mechanism. Reprinted from Pepper and
Adams, Firearms and Fortifications. Copyright © 1986 by The University of Chicago,
ing fire.25 W ithin a few years they had proved their worth against every
olher tactical arm: the pike (Bicocca, 1522, and Landriano, 1529), heavy
cavalry (Pavia, 1525, and Gavinana, 1530), and light cavalry (Gavinana).
lor the romancer Pavia was the most serious event because it involved
1lie heavily armed aristocrat on his horse. A t that battle, the French were
winning the battle o f the knights, and Francis I had already told the sei
gneur de Lescun that he was now lord o f Milan. Then the marquis of
Pescara moved 1,500 Spanish harquebusiers and caught the French horse
by flank fire. The first volley hit many French nobles, who were conspicu
ous by their dress. It caused confusion and panic, and allowed the Impe
rial cavalry to re-form and counterattack. In the end the Imperials annihi
lated the French knights: the king was a prisoner, and generals Bonnivet,
I .a Tremouille, La Palice, and Lescun were dead, along with 6,000 other
men. Paolo Giovio complained that cavalry, which had never fought so
well, went down before ignoble infantry.26 But Pavia was not the only
alarming event for the romancers. Harquebus fire killed Bayard, the most
130 The N ew Technology
h other than naively. Olimpia’s father did not know what a gun could do
•uul was shot down on the walls o f a castle, walking in full view. There is
.1 significant difference, however, between artistic and true naivete. The
Incas who first saw the Spaniards with their horses and guns thought
they were gods. They called the harquebuses yllapas, or “thunder from
heaven,” and thunder was their second most important deity.31 In con
trast, Ariostos characters see the same fraud that educated opinion o f his
day found in artillery.
Through this story Ariosto creates a sense o f ethical outrage. He has
( amosco direct his weapon against innocent victims, people who know
nothing about guns. The poet thus invents an unfair situation based on
.1 false premise, since both sides used artillery in contemporary Europe.
( )n the battlefield a tactical rather than an ethical question applied. One
asked which side had the better guns, or which had more guns, or which
side used them more effectively. Artificial naivete, moreover, does not
capture the Amerindian response to guns. In fact, the gun abroad rein
forced rather than called into question the old ethical code, a topic I dis
cuss in chapter 7.
Milton repeated Ariosto’s scenario but in a more extreme form. Ariosto
had posited the invention o f artillery in the Middle Ages, but Milton had
ii happen before human history and outside our universe. He further
modeled his story on what he believed to be the first tactical use o f can
non in warfare. He read in Paolo Giovio’s life o f Bartolomeo Colleoni
1hat for one battle the condottiere had spingards, an early type o f gun,
drawn up on small wagons behind his line.32 A t a trumpet signal the front
opened on either side, leaving the wagons and guns facing the enemy,
and the salvo shocked the enemy with a storm o f projectiles. Milton as
sumes that Satan uses the same tactical maneuver, but he modernizes the
(echnology. The devils have powder in grains {P L 6.575), and Milton
imagines them using the new light field artillery introduced by Gustavus
Adolphus, three rows deep and mounted on gun carriages.33 Once the
vanguard divides to the right and the left, the salvo has the same shock
effect Colleoni produced in the mid-fifteenth century {P L 6.56 9-70, 589—
90). Milton thus had Satan anticipate the historical invention o f field
artillery. T h e English poet replaced Ariostos fictional version with an ac
count derived from what he considered to be fact.
Milton also fit Ariostos story into a different political and moral con
text. W hen Satan reveals his cannon on the second day o f the heavenly
war, the loyal angels maintain close formation {P L 6.581), and so the vol
ley easily knocks them over. N ot knowing what to expect, the good angels
132 The N ew Technology
react like the members o f Olimpia’s family faced with Cimosco’s gun.
Naivete invites deception, and Milton follows Ariosto in associating the
gun with fraud {P L 6.5 55).34 He could also have made a similar political
application, if he had wished. James Freeman has shown that the Renais
sance generally accepted fraud as a legitimate part o f warfare, citing Ari
osto’s contemporaries, Machiavelli and More, and seventeenth-century
treatises, including Milton’s De doctrina christiana,35 Yet the English poet
provides a different political context, one that reveals the roots o f this
tradition in a way that Ariosto’s work does not.
In the Furioso Cimosco resembles a condottiere lord or a Cesare Bor
gia. H e tries to enforce debatable claims outside his inherited lands, and
others see his actions as both tyrannical and aggressive. Satan in contrast
is punished for sedition and rebellion against his legitimate overlord. G od
later calls the angelic revolt an act o f fraud {P L 7.143—44). The technologi
cal fraud o f artillery grows out o f an original political fraud, fitly indi
cated by the night scene in which Satan initiates his action. N o one ever
mentions rebellion, yet Beelzebub understands Satan, and both generals
talk ambiguously and play on angelic jealousy {P L 5.657-710). Milton
thus understands the demonic revolt in terms o f the fascination with
fraud and sedition, which marked both Tudor and Stuart England.
Daniel gives the Tudor version, when he associates cannon with York’s
rebellion (CW"6.26 -2 7 ), but it was the Gunpowder Plot that most deeply
impressed the English and linked the new technology to sedition. As a
student Milton had already worked out for his poems on that topic the
very scenario he would later use for Paradise Lost. In In quintum novembris
Satan again starts the plot by night, this time appearing to the pope in a
dream (92-96) and telling him that he may use fraud against heretics
(113—15), even as he himself deceives the pope under the false image o f a
Franciscan friar. In Paradise Lost Satan also manipulates Beelzebub, in
fluencing his emotions {P L 5.694-95). In both scenes fraud breeds fraud,
and ultimately politics and technology together outline a moral evil.
For epic and romance, however, the idea has ancient roots, far older
than the period o f the Tudors and Stuarts. Malory associates fraud with
Gawain and his brothers, and Mordred comes from that family. In the
Chanson de Roland it is Ganelon, and in the Nibelungenlied, Hagen.
These men do not follow the chivalric code, and those who do—
Lancelot, Roland, and Siegfried— can only see their activity as false and
yet very dangerous. Mordred, and not the barons, Romans, or Saxons,
brought down Arthur’s kingdom.
The English writers followed Ariosto in another respect when they
N E G A T IV E C R I T IQ U E S 133
. . . H i m b y f r a u d I h a v e s e d u c ’d
F r o m h is C r e a to r , a n d th e m o r e to in c re a se
Y o u r w o n d e r , w ith a n A p p le ; h e th e r e a t
O f f e n d e d , w o r th y o u r la u g h te r, h a th g iv ’n u p
B o th h is b e lo v e d M a n a n d all h is w o r ld ,
T o S in a n d D e a th a p re y , a n d so to u s,
W i t h o u t o u r h a z a rd , la b o r, o r a la rm ,
T o ra n g e in , a n d to d w e ll, a n d o v e r M a n
T o ru le , as o v e r all h e s h o u ld h a v e r u l ’d .
{PL 10.485-93)
All three poets, Ariosto, Daniel, and Milton, react to periods of accel
erated technological advance. Ariosto wrote the Olimpia story after the
evolution o f the gun was complete and after it had proved its worth in
Held engagements as well as in sieges and naval battles. By the time Daniel
wrote the Civile Wars England had become a leading producer o f iron
cannon. The English founders had become the rage on the Continent by
1570 and made better guns than the Swedes.38 In fact, mass production
in Sweden and England began to alter the balance o f power in favor o f the
Protestant north, and Milton saw its consequences. The Parliamentary
134 The N ew Technology
C h i v id e m a i d a l ciel c a d e re il fo c o
c h e c o n si o r r e n d o s u o n G io v e d is s e rra ,
e p e n e tr a r e o v e u n ric h iu s o lo c o
c a r b o n c o n z o lfo e c o n s a ln itr o se rra ;
c h ’a p e n a a rriv a , a p e n a to c c a u n p o c o ,
c h e p a r c h ’a v a m p i il c ie l, n o n c h e la te rra ; *
s p e z z a le m u r a , e i g ra v i m a r m i sv e lle ,
e fa i sassi v o la r s in a lle ste lle .
(OA9.78)
W h o e v e r s a w fire fall f r o m h e a v e n , w h ic h J o v e u n lo c k s w i t h te r r if y in g
s o u n d , a n d p e n e tr a te w h e r e a n e n c lo s e d p la c e s h u ts u p c a r b o n w i t h s u l
p h u r a n d s a ltp e te r s a w t h a t as s o o n as i t a rriv e s, a s s o o n as i t to u c h e s th e
p o w d e r e v e n a little , it s e e m s a s i f t h e s k y as w e ll as t h e e a r th b la z e s. It
b re a k s w a lls, s p lin te r s h e a v y m a r b le b lo c k s , a n d m a k e s t h e s to n e s fly to
t h e s ta rs .39
Cimosco’s gun has just struck Orlandos horse, so the simile carries ove
that sense o f artificial lightning to the explosion o f stored gunpowderd
struck by natural lightning. Such an event occurred at the first battle off
Polesella, when the Este cannon blew up a Venetian gunpowder ship
(1509).40 The simile also resembles another, which describes an explosiv
mine (O/727.24).41
Ariosto suggested the various uses o f gunpowder because he realiz
that it now affected every kind o f warfare. T h e harquebus in the 152c
was the last in a series o f developments. It began with sieges, when Jea
Bureaus artillery blew the English out o f France and Mehmed U s cannon
pounded the walls o f Constantinople. Then it was ships (Diu, 1509), field
N E G A T I V E C R I T IQ U E S 135
*
What a heaven! It is enough to disgust one with Paradise; one would rather
enter Charles Is troop of lackeys, or Cromwell’s Ironsides. We have orders
of the day, a hierarchy, exact submission, extra-duties, disputes, regulated
ceremonials, prostrations, etiquette, furbished arms, arsenals, depots of
chariots and ammunition. Was it worthwhile leaving earth to find in
heaven carriage-works, buildings, artillery, a manual of tactics?51
Satan arranges a military review in hell, which the poet describes in tech
nical vocabulary; an angelic garrison guards Paradise; and the good angels
regularly go in armed companies to visit Chaos. Robert Fallon correctly
expresses the impression given by Paradise Lost: a stage crowded with mil
itary uniforms.52
More radical were those writers, like Spenser, who avoided war alto
gether, yet even he drew back from a decisive break with the past. A t one
N E G A T IV E C R I T IQ U E S 137
point he promises something more like the old military poetry, when he
dtl«Itosses his Muse before the dragon fight:
Nrilher the extant fragments o f The Faerie Queene not the version pro-
jrc led in the letter to Raleigh, however, would allow for such a story. The
pool postpones warfare to an indefinite future, perhaps to the epic of
King Arthur, where he would celebrate the public virtues o f his hero.53
Meanwhile he compensates for the lack o f war in The Faerie Queene by
allinning throughout a code based on the old chivalry, which he illus
trates constantly through the duels and adventures o f his heroes.
No one else went as far as Marino, who both avoided war and did not
maintain the old chivalric values in his L ’Adone. In canto 16 he had the
political issue decided not by combat but by a male beauty contest.
I he Spanish and Portuguese worked out the third response to the new
military technology and advocated the modernist position. Camoes,
where he depicts war, Alonso de Ercilla y Zuniga in his Araucana, and
also Gaspar de Villagra in his Historia de la Nueva Mexico all accepted the
gun and yet maintained the medieval military code. They found their
subjects in the colonies, where a warfare closer to that o f the old chivalry
still persisted. A characteristic example is Ercilla’s young man who lets
down the drawbridge and challenges the Araucanian Indians to fight.
When so many respond, he does not falter but goes forward alone to
meet them (.Araucana, 1.2.78-80, pp. 35-36). The conquistadors recalled
the situation o f the late eleventh century, when a few knights could con
quer and hold Sicily and Palestine from the Muslims. This kind o f epic
resembled the first epics in one important respect: it too was chivalry at
.1 distance, in space rather than time.
SEVEN
Positive Evaluations
Alonso de Ercilla y Zuniga
and Luis Vaz de Camoes
T H E P O E T S W H O D E F E N D E D T H E G U N OJ t A T L E A S T T R I E D T O
find room for it dealt with the same issues as those who adopted
the negative critique. They had to understand the use o f guns within the
medieval military code, so they too raised the question o f fraud. The
conclusion they reached, however, was very different. Where the majority
saw the ruin o f heroism, these poets celebrated achievements they
claimed surpassed those o f antiquity or any other period.
The poets who defended and even celebrated modern firepower fall
into two categories. The first is the Spanish poets who wrote o f the battle
at Lepajtfo (7 October 1571) and who limit the guns role in their work to
decoration. They assume— plausibly enough for a battle that marked the
climax and end o f a long tradition o f naval war— that firepower did not
essentially change the nature o f battle. Therefore, they did not need to
raise the difficult moral questions that troubled Ariosto or M ilton.1 The
poets involved are three: Juan Latino, Hieronymo Corte Real, and Juan
Rufo. Latino, a high-school teacher o f black African descent in Granada,
was the first to publish. He composed a brief epic in Latin that came out
in 1573 with the title Austriadis libri duo. Five years later the Portuguese
Corte Real published Felicissima victoria, a fifteen-book epic written in
Spanish and covering the Cypriot War through the battle o f Lepanto.
Finally, Rufo o f Cordoba released the Austriada in 1582, though he
claimed to have composed it a decade earlier.2 His epic was a military
biography o f Don Juan o f Austria and covered both the Morisco Revolt
and Lepanto.
T h e second category concerns the poets o f colonial enterprise, espe
cially Ercilla in his Araucaria and Camoes in Os Lusiadas. Both men es-
P O S I T IV E E V A L U A T IO N S 139
Iloused the modernist position, facing the moral issue and its corollary:
1he fraud that subverts chivalry. Their resolution o f this difficult question
established some o f the basic assumptions that determined later imperial
ist literature.
LEPAN TO
All the poets who wrote o f modern warfare used the gun decoratively,
not just those who narrated Lepanto. A cannonade, especially, provided
an occasion for sublimity or for elaborate pictorial effects. For example,
( lamoes s most celebrated commentator, Manuel de Faria e Sousa, praised
the poet’s description o f the bombardment o f Mozambique:
I aria e Sousa said that Camoes described the salvo as if he had seen and
heard it, and he especially praised the fourth line o f the stanza for its use
of onomatopoeia and gradation: the strike, the sound, then the echoing
air.’ The Portuguese poet in this brief passage certainly maintained the
1 (impression useful for the sublime.4 Ercilla, in contrast, opted for an
elaborate picture, modeling a description on the passage in the Aeneid,
where Allecto, blowing a rustic horn, summons the Latins to battle
(7.511—21). In the Araucana (2.16.36—38, p. 271) the Spaniards decide to
test their artillery, while winter weather confines them to Quiriquina Is
land by Concepcion. A t the salvo the sea and ground tremble; the alpacas,
vicunas, tigers, and lions run about terrified; dolphins, Nereids, and Tri
tons hide in their deep sea caverns; rivers and fountains, confused, hold
back their currents; and some Indians, awestruck, bow necks never bent
before. Guns by their sound, fire, and smoke naturally fit an epic style
and helped raise the narrative above the ordinary. W hat distinguished the
Spanish Lepanto poets, however, was the central importance they gave to
such aural and visual effects.
Most often the poets compared a cannonade to a storm. Latino uses
ibis comparison three times in his Austriadis libri duo. One example will
suffice: “ Imbrem de coelo spissam cecidisse putares” (2.23r; “You would
14 0 The N ew Technology
Figure 19. Lepanto, battle o f the flagships. Photograph: Roger-Viollet, Paris. Engraving
in the Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris.
Earthly cannon outdoes heavenly thunder, and man by his own invention
surpasses one o f natures most deadly weapons. Milton later attacked this
modernist view, when he contrasted demonic artillery with the divine
thunder, which chases the rebel angels to hell.6 T h e modernist point
stung the traditionalists, and it is most clearly seen in the battle o f Le-
panto. That event, which occasioned perhaps more poetry than any pre
vious battle, also surpassed all earlier galley conflicts by the number o f its
guns and the intensity o f its bombardment.
Guns were crucial at Lepanto and may have decided the outcome of
the battle. Italian eyewitnesses support such an interpretation; they em
phasize the initial barrage and the clash o f the reales. In his letter to Ser-
moneta written just after the battle (9 October 1571), Onorato Caetani, a
papal commander, says that the Turks shot from too far away and hit no
one, while the Christians waited till the last minute and so inflicted the
greatest damage on the enemy. The firepower o f the galleasses at the cen
ter, moreover, sank three galleys immediately and forced the Turks out o f
formation.7 Modern research indicates that the six galleasses may have
actually sunk seventy enemy vessels.8 The Venetian commander Seba-
stiano Veniero, argued that guns enabled Don Juan to win the battle o f
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CANETE
duuild follow.25 In between but closer to Marmolejo are Lovera and Fi
gueroa.26 None o f these historians credits the Indians with the tactics of
Iheir attack or implicates them in fraud.
Their version would fit the model Ariosto established in his story of
t Himpia. There the gun illustrates a pattern o f fraud that characterizes
( iimosco and his Frisians, who have invaded the province o f Holland and
oiler the occasion for the poet’s diatribe against firearms. Similarly here,
die Spanish invader has the guns and sets up the elaborate deception that
destroys the native opposition. Ercilla himself includes a severe denuncia-
Iion o f the yanacona at the beginning o f canto 31, so he could have made
IIis account follow much more closely that o f Olimpia in the Furioso.
Instead he develops a different narrative and denounces not the gun but
baud, which he finds and criticizes on both sides.
This insistence on mutual guilt produces a curious redundancy in Er-
1 ilia’s narrative, as one character after another repeats and amplifies the
same plan o f attack. In the first place an unnamed spy gives the Indian
leader Caupolican the information that leads him initially to suggest the
surprise attack during siesta.27 He then coaches an intermediary, Pran,
whom Ercilla describes as subtle, false, and malicious (Araucana, 3.30.43,
p. 494). Pran repeats this tactical plan to the yanacona Andresillo (Arau-
cana, 3.30.54—55, p. 496). Next Caupolican himself outlines it to Andre
sillo (Araucana, 3.31.13, p. 502), who in this version merely urges its imme
diate implementation and sets the time for the following day (3.31.24, 26,
l>. 504). He cleverly advises what the enemy already intends.28 Ercilla has
die Spaniards deceive a deceptive enemy, find out his plans, and destroy
him.29
Even with this significant difference, one could argue that Ercilla out
lines the same circle o f fraud that Ariosto had for his story. In Ariostos
version chronology is essential and shows that in a conflict where only
one side has firearms, the guns give it such an advantage that the opposi
tion has no recourse but fraud. This was Olimpia’s answer, and it became
that o f the Araucanians. They fought their last open battle at Millarapue.
After this, the fourth major defeat in three months, they resort to ambush
at Puren, and Caupolican advises a scorched-earth policy (Araucana,
2.29 .5-7, PP- 4 7 0 -7 1). arguing that they should burn their houses, cloth
ing, and furniture. W hen honor no longer pertains to a place, he says, it
is not good to have one. Soldiers should worry only about vengeance,
while property would make them lukewarm. Soldiers must concentrate
on taking honor, property, and life from the enemy: it is kill or be killed.
He follows this speech with the sneak attack on Canete and then has to
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M O Z A M B IQ U E
I'igure 20. Rogers, map o f Mozambique (the springs are by Cabciceira on the mainland
at the right). Reprinted from Linschoten, Discourse o f Voyages. Photograph courtesy the
Newberry Library.
leader Vasco da Gama is suspicious and sends his men armed in three
boats that carry bombards. The challenge works. The Portuguese rush
onto land and simultaneously open fire.36 A t the great noise the “Moors”
lose courage. Those in front die, those in ambush flee. The Portuguese
now bombard the town, which lacks walls or any kind o f defense. Some
o f the Moors curse amid the flames o f the burning village, while others
flee. In fury they shoot arrows and throw rocks and wood at their pursu
ers, but their terror makes this effort ineffectual. The Moors crowd into
almadias (narrow boats like canoes that can carry sails) or try to swim
across the narrow channel to the mainland, but the Portuguese bombard
ment blows up some o f the boats, and some o f the swimmers drown.37
Rich with spoil, the victors can now draw water at leisure, and the de
feated sheik must sue for peace.
In these few stanzas Camoes presents the essentials o f imperialist nar
rative and fiction. A few Europeans clash with men who speak a strange
language and practice a different religion— in this case Islam— and
whom the Portuguese, therefore, call Moors. The few Europeans easily
148 The N ew Technology
barrage for three hours, while the Moors flee to town and leave two men
ili'.ul on the field. The sailors now return to the ships for their noon meal,
Imii (hey sail out afterward to take hostages. They find the Moors in boats,
Hiring to the mainland, and overtake two. In one the Moors escape but
leave some o f the sheik’s belongings. The other boat gives da Gama the
hostages he wants, especially an old man who knows about the trading
nysiem. The sheik negotiates, however, only after the town suffers a sec
ond barrage.
Camoes has reduced a military confrontation that extended over sev
eral days to one. H e has also combined two places, for the island o f M o
zambique lacks water, and the springs are on the mainland. Castanheda
is dear on this fact, and Camoes probably knew Mozambique firsthand.44
( Condensation o f this kind marks his treatment o f the whole episode, not
just o f the military encounter. T h e many meetings between the Moors
,md the Portuguese become two, and Camoes reduces the various pilots
involved to one. D a Gama had hired two for the India voyage, but one
had run away, and his attempt to get another helped provoke the armed
1 lashes. Camoes keeps the problem o f the pilot but detaches it from the
military encounter. Finally, he abbreviates the events that helped the
Moors discover the religious identity o f their visitors. They at first
(bought the well-armed strangers must be Turks and only gradually
lound out that they were Christians, their traditional enemy. Camoes
lias da Gama explain his faith immediately, when he meets the sheik.
< Condensation marks every aspect o f the epic version.
This abridgment serves to exalt the picture o f Portuguese power. Since
1hey were a few explorers in East Africa, da Gama and his sailors had tried
10 avoid clashes with the local powers. Camoes eliminates all this. The
Portuguese do not attempt first to get water during the night, as they did
in fact, nor do they sail earlier to the islet o f Sao Jorge, out o f fear o f the
Muslims.45 Moreover, the poet ignores the fact that the Portuguese were
100 few to risk a landing at the town.46 There was no ruined town, no
smashed boats. Victory depended on the psychological effect o f the bom
bards rather than on gunfire accurate enough to sink canoes. It was the
noise that scared the guards away from the springs, and the three-hour
barra