by RNS | Dec 30, 2022 | Beating Tsundoku
John Moss, Celtic Places & Placenames (Pen & Sword, 2022)
In Celtic Places & Placenames, John Moss takes us on a journey through the British Isles to seek the origins of settlements and places of interest attributable to the Celtic era and sometimes beyond. In doing so, Moss finds echoes of a culture we often forget in the modern age.
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Moss initially wriggles around the concept of a unified Celt people, who maintained many cultural connections while being distinct tribes. He describes where the term comes from and gives a potted history of how the Romans cast Celtic tribes into the dark corners of the British Isles and a wee part of France. His book is split into twelve parts grouping together place names with identifiable terrain features or regions. Moss sets off into his theme with a list of common Celtic places, of which there are many.
The first geographic region we encounter is Cornwall and the southeast of England. Moss starts with a brief overview and follows with an alphabetised list of places and names – that is, after all, what we are here for. The full island of Ireland comes next, in the same format, then the Isle of Man. Scotland and the English border region take up nearly a quarter of Moss’s book as you might expect given the relative size of Scotland within Britain. Likewise, Wales takes up forty pages, reflecting the undisturbed nature of many parts of the principality. Having taken us on a geographical tour, Moss switches to features, beginning with Celtic river names then mountains. The names of Bronze and Iron Age hillforts are given their own chapter, probably because Moss notes there were over 4,000 of them, though curiously, he includes some in his list that do not have Celtic names – Moss relies on descriptive paragraphs for those places. He does that too for some of the prehistoric structures that make up his next chapter. Moss is on more certain ground for those places identified by Celtic crosses even if some are of early medieval origin. Moss concludes his survey across the channel in Brittany where Celtic tribesmen fled when Britain suffered under periodic invasions. A useful bibliography and list of websites concludes the book.
Celtic Places & Placenames is a book that might struggle for a classification. I can see historically minded tourists thumbing through this as they travel around Britain. Conversely, local historians will appreciate knowing some of these place names. Moss doesn’t help himself in this regard because he omits to argue why we need this knowledge, which relegates his survey to the trivial in some ways. Yet a place name is important because it provides a starting point, a grounding, for that place, or a description long lost in the mists of time. That makes you see a place differently, through the eyes of those who named that place. This, therefore, could be a useful book for researchers as well as the merely curious.
by RNS | Dec 28, 2022 | Beating Tsundoku
Zvonimir Grbasic, The Templars at War (Pen & Sword, 2022)
It’s difficult to imagine the Crusades without the Holy Orders, and in particular the Knights Templar. Their red cross on a white background on cloth over their armour may be the lasting image of Crusader armies. But who were they? What did they do and how did they do it? Zvonimir Grbasic answers those questions and more in this enlightening and beautifully illustrated coffee-table style book.
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Grbasic begins by bringing together the early military histories of Christianity and Islam as they wind their ways to the Holy Land before the Crusades. The first of those came in 1096, leading to the siege of Jerusalem three years later and the development of the Crusader states. From that emerged the Knights Templar, in 1119, a warrior group dedicated to protecting Christian pilgrims. In 1139, Pope Innocent III released the Order from all obligations except to him, making the Order autonomous. In 1147, they began wearing the familiar red cross that Muslim commanders would come to fear.
How the Order was organised follows Grbasic’s origin story, including the evolution of heraldry, ranks, arms, and armour. No survey of this force would be complete with a consideration of the Order’s horses. Grbasic highlights the excellence of the Templar’s breeding abilities that gave them the best mounts amongst contemporary European powers. With the best equipment and horses, the Templars could be an extraordinary shock weapon in battle, and that is where Grbasic takes us next as he follows the Templars on campaign and in combat. Not that there were many tactics involved for a force that employed the mounted charge as its primary device. Grbasic also surveys logistics, chain of command, and the general campaign life of an ordinary soldier. The austere discipline of the Templars is made very clear.
There were other Orders in the Holy Land, of course, and Grbasic detours to survey them before moving on to the enemies they all encountered, many of whom were also accomplished horsemen. What the Templars did comes next in a narrative section full of battles, including those against their nemesis, Saladin, and a curious account of the Templars fighting against the Mongols in eastern Europe in the 13th Century. But it is the Crusades that merit most of Grbasic’s attention, concluding with the fall of Acre in 1291. In his epilogue, Grbasic summarises the Templars and their contribution to medieval military history. But in their success lay the seeds of their demise: they grew too wealthy and fell afoul of France’s King Philip who owed them a fortune. He destroyed them in France with Papal collusion, though those in England and some other areas fared better amidst the fallout, but the Templar Order had been fatally undermined and all but disappears from military history.
Grbasic has produced an excellent survey of the Templar Order. I say ‘produced’ because not only has Grbasic written a clear and authoritative text that entertains as much as it informs, but he also supplied the outstanding artwork – paintings and drawings – that elevates this book well beyond the run-of-the-mill images you often find in books of this nature. I expect that anyone with a passing interest in medieval warfare and the Crusades will find this book a delight and want to dive into the period to find out more. I know I do.
by RNS | Dec 26, 2022 | Beating Tsundoku
Alexander Mikaberidze, Berezina 1812 (Osprey, 2022)
Even by 1812, the reasons why you do not invade Russia were well known, and it would take an ego the size of Napoleon’s to ignore them. But he did, resulting in a frustrating military campaign followed by a disastrous retreat as the Russian winter enveloped his army. That any of his army survived at all probably comes down to a heroic defence of the crossing of the Berezina river. In this addition to Osprey’s Campaign series, Alexander Mikaberidze takes us into the heart of the action.
Mikaberidze begins by surveying the diplomatic background to the war between France and Russia, which seemed mutually acceptable by 1812. But Mikaberidze notes that while Russian knew what was coming, they were hardly prepared with only 250,000 men spread around three armies. Their only option was to retreat in the face of the French juggernaut, though they too had mounting problems as they pushed into Russia’s vastness. Fighting followed, which turned the French army. Thus, Napoleon’s famous retreat began pursued by the Russians who now held almost all the cards.
We are introduced to the main commanders on both sides with potted biographies and portraits. Then Mikaberidze moves onto the armies, beginning with the French Grande Armee, nearly 600,000 strong when the campaign started. By the bloodbath at Borodino in September 1812, that was already down to 180,000 for various reasons. More fell there and on the subsequent retreat, and losses in officers impacted command and control. By the time he reached the Berezina in late November, Napoleon could call on about 35,000 effectives to protect the crossing. Most of the Russian army ambled along behind the French, so not all could fight at the Berezina. Mikaberidze provides Orders of Battle for those who did.
After a consideration of strategies on both sides, Mikaberidze comes to the campaign leading to the crossing of the Berezina. The latter involved the French attempting to build bridges while the army held off the Russians. In this, they were aided by Russian intelligence failures and mismanagement. Finally, the Russians got into the fight, but by then much of the French army was over the bridges. The combat with the French rearguard was as fierce as anything in the whole campaign. That included the loss of a French Division at Borisov, which should have united 75,000 Russian soldiers, but petty command squabbles prevented that. Meanwhile, Napoleon deployed his reduced force for action on the west bank where he held some tactical advantages, but even then, it took an incredible Swiss counterattack to stall the Russian advance. Mikaberidze adds here that it was mainly non-French Allied forces that did much of the fighting. On the East bank, the French fought with equal courage, holding the bridge open for stragglers, aided by the weather and incompetent Russian command. The French escaped across the river overnight, but Napoleon barely had an army to command on his return to France such were his losses.
Mikaberidze concludes with the battlefield today and the contending views on where various events happened and what it all meant. Having read the book, I’m still not sure how to describe this battle, though Mikaberidze’s subtitle is ‘Napoleon’s Hollow Victory’. What is clear is that Mikaberidze has written a lively and coherent account of a series of complex events that formed the crucial passage of Napoleon’s inglorious retreat from Russia. He is helped by Osprey’s usual skill in illustrating their Campaign series books with maps and artwork. Students of the Napoleonic Wars will enjoy Mikaberidze’s book on its own or as a steppingstone to further reading.
by RNS | Dec 16, 2022 | Beating Tsundoku
Fabrizio Bagatti, Lawrence of Arabia’s Secret Dispatches through the Arab Revolt 1915-1919, (Pen & Sword Military 2021)
Lawrence of Arabia holds a special place in British memory, relating to his exploits during World War I and beyond. With the added romance of his early death, he is a subject that garners much attention and no little controversy. This book doesn’t really set out to dismiss or support any viewpoint but presents the epistolic documentation to the reader. These documents reflect on Lawrence’s role in the Arab Revolt of 1915-1919 and are presented in chronological order.
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What we get are 118 documents presented as they were produced, then represented to the modern reader for them to decide their value and accuracy. The author is open about his like of Lawrence, and the introduction sets that out straight away; however, the book itself contains no analysis of the documents presented. Without that, the work is all left to the reader to decide, which is not a bad thing when provoking some examination of one’s own prejudices. But it still is an opportunity missed, though the book doesn’t suffer for it. There are extensive footnotes provided throughout the text; and they are footnotes, not endnotes, so no need to hold various bookmarks and flick back and forth between pages – personally, I like footnotes presented in this manner. There is an extensive bibliography too, which will be very useful for anyone wanting to read further. The index only deals with the personalities mentioned in the text but is very comprehensive.
This is not a book to sit and “read”: it is a useful research tool when dealing with TE Lawrence’s influence, or lack thereof, on the Arab Revolt. Which side of the fence you fall on for that will very much depend on your personal disposition towards Lawrence and Britain’s role in the Arab world. This is a nice collection of pertinent documents, but it is not a stand-alone tome; you will need others if you are looking to understand Lawrence, the Arab Revolt, or the wider World War One context.
by RNS | Dec 3, 2022 | Beating Tsundoku
Nicky Nielsen, The Pirate Captain Ned Low (Pen & Sword, 2022)
In the prologue of The Pirate Captain Ned Low, Nicky Nielsen recounts the tale of a despicable attack on a whaler in 1723. That story illustrates who we are dealing with in this book; not a pirate of romantic myth and legend, but a genuine sea monster who you would not want to meet in your worst nightmares. Nielsen’s aim in this biography is to understand Ned Low and the world in which he lived.
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Nielsen opens with an illuminating essay on sources, then takes us off to the coast of Honduras where Low’s career as a pirate began by killing his captain and absconding on a sloop with a small crew. Nielsen switches to the story of the pirate George Lowther, whose path will cross with Low, before flashing back to crime-ridden London in the 1680s and Edward (Ned) Low’s misbegotten youth. From there to Boston in 1714, where Low can be placed with certainty. By 1719, Low was on his way to Honduras and a brief, violent life of piracy.
Low became Lowther’s lieutenant on the Happy Delivery. Nielsen takes this opportunity to describe the pirate’s life and its attractions, especially amongst the dispossessed. Lowther and Low soon parted, with Low sailing away on the Rebecca. Nielsen portrays Low at this time as an unhappy man with a tendency to extremely violent outbursts. He raided off the coasts of New England and Nova Scotia, where he took an unwilling Philip Ashton to join his crew. Nielsen follows Ashton’s memoir of his captivity where he finds some of the accounts of Low’s brutality do not jibe with Ashton’s evidence. Low’s luck turned, losing one vessel of his small fleet through carelessness. He was clever, though, and managed his piratical path around the Caribbean using guile more often than force. Then he ran into the HMS Mermaid. His smaller ship with Ashton aboard split off and Ashton escaped – Nielsen expends nearly a chapter on Ashton’s life on a deserted island afterwards before his rescue by the Royal Navy.
Nielsen returns to the Bay of Honduras in March 1723 where Low’s flotilla fought and massacred a Spanish pirate crew before sailing north again. Then, in June 1723, Low chased the wrong ship, the HMS Greyhound. He lost one ship but fled in his own to Nova Scotia, leaving some crew behind to face trial and execution, described in detail by Nielsen. Low met Lowther again, and Nielsen follows Lowther for a while before he and Low crossed to the Azores. Low’s atrocious conduct by now caused disquiet even amongst his crew. In 1724, his crew voted Low out and cast him adrift. Lowther, meanwhile, lost his ship too and committed suicide on a deserted island. As for Low, who knows? He may have been killed by natives or continued as a mercenary soldier; he was certainly never tried for his crimes and may have simply faded into history. That he might have left behind buried treasure is also an intriguing mystery, but Nielsen dispenses with that as another pirate myth.
Nielsen brings to light a fascinating tale of a vicious cutthroat and moderately successful pirate. His book is packed with action and insight into the pirate’s life, and we meet some larger than life characters along the way. I’m not sure he has enough material, though, to claim this is a proper biography; rather, Low runs through the book as a strong narrative thread tying together many different aspects of the early 18th Century pirate world that he inhabited. The book is not diminished for that incompleteness, though some editing and proofreading errors are annoying. Ultimately, this is a solid contribution to our history of pirates, particularly away from the ‘superstar’ pirates we read about so often.
