by RNS | Feb 28, 2023 | Beating Tsundoku
Tony Sullivan, The Roman King Arthur? (Pen & Sword, 2022)
The theory that the legendary King Arthur was based on a Roman soldier, Lucius Artorius Castus, goes back to 1924 and was revived in the 1970s. It appears here again in Tony Sullivan’s forensic analysis of the evidence for and against Artorius. If proven correct, that would settle a lot of arguments formulated over centuries of curiosity. But that isn’t Sullivan’s mission in this interesting and thoughtful book.
BUY NOW
Sullivan introduces the central character in this story. Lucius Artorius Castus, a Roman equestrian officer who comes to us through two inscriptions and a signet ring, and from those we can trace his military career. Sullivan works his way through the interpretations of this evidence and how it has become linked to contextual evidence supporting the Arthurian legend. He finds it wanting. Sullivan also presents the evidence for the King Arthur legend. Agan, the author can find no connection to Artorius. Sullivan then digs into the wider context of Roman history from 150 CE to 250 CE, asking if the case can be made for Artorius having an extraordinary career worthy of the Arthurian legend. At the end of that lengthy chapter, Sullivan summarises the case for Artorius so far, and it does not look good for the Roman Arthur. Sullivan turns to the all-important Sarmatian connection: did Artorius command Sarmatians in Britain? As with all his chapters, Sullivan works his way carefully through the evidence, and he finds nothing to support the theory. The author notes that we do not even have concrete evidence for Artorius’ timeline that would coincide with Sarmatians in Britain. Sullivan returns to the Arthurian legend to see if there is a connection looking backwards. We move into post-Roman Britain then into the legend itself. That leads into Sullivan’s conclusion, which should be crystal clear by this point.
It is not often that a book is written to demolish a theory, they usually promote one. But Sullivan clearly has a bee in his bonnet about the Artorius-Arthur connection, and he goes after it like a dog with a bone. I think it is unfortunate that Sullivan chose the straw man of a 2004 movie to test his argument against because he has enough evidence from the historical record to play with. Nevertheless, Sullivan forensically dismantles the Artorius theory in an engaging and well-organised text. Students of King Arthur will want to read Sullivan’s conclusions and take note, while the rest of us will just enjoy a thought-provoking read.
by RNS | Feb 18, 2023 | Beating Tsundoku
René Chartrand, The Armies and Wars of the Sun King 1643-1715 Volume 5: Buccaneers and Soldiers in the Americas (Helion, 2022)
René Chartrand continues his wide-ranging survey of military activities during the pivotal reign of Louis XIV. In this volume, we leave the cockpit of Europe for the turbulent Americas where regular and irregular warfare coexisted cheek by jowl. It is a fascinating and often eye-opening journey.
Chartrand sets his stall with a chronology of military events in the Americas through the long 17th Century. He notes that this theatre became an integral part of Louis’ imperial vision before narrating the background of French involvement in the Americas, where they competed with the Spanish, Dutch, Portuguese, and English for control. Chartrand turns to the evolution of the buccaneers, men who were ‘left behind’ in the Caribbean islands then grouped together as the ‘Brethren of the Coast’ to form a powerful if ungovernable force. The Spanish, in particular, attempted to crush the buccaneers and were met with ferocious brutality in return.
We move on to the imperial power games in the Americas, starting with Louis’ ambitions in the Caribbean and Central America. Chartrand walks us through the early stages in the West Indies and Panama, folding the buccaneers into the international action. Then came the Dutch in 1674 with their powerful navy to fight the French in a war that lasted four years and saw several Caribbean islands change hands, though it was the French who came out on top. Chartrand’s attention turns to the ‘Peace’ of the 1680s, a term that did not apply to the Spanish as perennial targets of the French supported buccaneers. Their operations also extended into the Pacific region. France versus England and the Anglo-Spanish follows with King William’s War affecting the Caribbean in the 1690s. The French also encountered the Portuguese along the Amazon during this period. After a brief hiatus, war continued into the 18th Century with The War of the Spanish Succession. The intensity of the fighting from Florida to Rio de Janeiro is traversed nimbly by Chartrand’s episodic narrative style as he zooms in and out of key events.
The chapters switch from the narrative to surveys and analyses that read like extended appendices. Chartrand ponders the value and distribution of money before moving on to a survey of private and metropolitan forces in the Caribbean and the organisation of French marines, including uniforms and weapons, though just about every aspect of the soldier’s world is touched upon. The buccaneers are given similar treatment in my favourite chapter of the book. Surveys of militias and fortifications follow. The actual appendices cover artillery, maroons, and some aspects of buccaneer life.
This is easily my favourite volume so far in this Helion series exploring the Sun King’s wars. You could argue that there are two books here: there is action aplenty to follow in Chartrand’s engaging narrative section, and his survey of various aspects of the wars illuminates the narrative by digging a wee bit deeper into the soldiers who fought – his chapter on the buccaneers was very useful given how often they influenced events. The artistic support provided by Helion is first class too, incorporating contemporary illustrations mixed with excellent commissioned colour plates of some of the soldiers. There are too many jump-off points for further study in the text to list here, suffice to say this volume stands on its own as a worthwhile read and will spark many reading forays into the jungles and islands of the Caribbean region at the turn of the 18th Century.
by RNS | Feb 7, 2023 | Beating Tsundoku
Stephen Turnbull, Mongol Warrior versus European Knight (Osprey, 2023)
‘Europe’s fate is in the balance’ feels like a modern state of affairs with massed tanks on the borders and warplanes clouding the skies, but in the 1240s it was the Mongol hordes that threatened a developing medieval Europe, and only the knights of Eastern Europe stood in their way. In this book, part of Osprey’s Combat series, Stephen Turnbull surveys the armies facing off and the battles they fought in this pivotal campaign.
Turnbull begins with a brief introduction to the war that eastern Europe should have anticipated but tragically did not. The mysterious Mongols of the Far East turned west in 1237 breaking across Rus before pouring into Hungary and the eastern European principalities in 1241. However, Turnbull challenges the common belief that the Mongols were an unstoppable force and only their retirement from Europe saved the day. The knights, he argues, were also not the clumsy oafs we might think they were.
An assessment of the two sides follows. Turnbull considers status, recruitment, motivation, command, control, organisation, weapons, dress, and equipment, highlighting the differences and similarities. Nowhere was the difference more apparent than in tactics, with the European knights’ close order charge set against the fluid Mongol tactics of feigned retreat and envelopment, though Turnbull argues they were better in close combat than previously thought. By the 13th Century, Mongols had also become more adept at siege warfare, as Kyiv found out in December 1240.
Turnbull turns to the Battle of Liegnitz, fought on 9 April 1241, which was a significant Mongol victory. This battle featured a Mongol smokescreen that debilitated the Polish cavalry. Also in 1241, the Mongols defeated the hubristic Hungarians at Muhi. After narrating those two battles, Turnbull moves on to the ensuing sieges in 1242 at Estergom and Székesfehérvár. At Estergom, the knights held out in the citadel, which could not be breached. Then, at Székesfehérvár, the Mongols faced the Knights of St John, who held out seemingly quite easily. The Mongols, however, destroyed many smaller settlements. Then they left. No one is quite sure why, but Hungary was devastated in their wake. In his analysis, Turnbull highlights Hungary’s rebuilding programme while noting that the Mongols were not the invincible force they claimed to be as seen in the subsequent attacks on Hungary that met with little success.
Osprey books can sometimes be a wee bit dry but not this one. Turnbull writes an engaging and insightful narrative mixed with thought provoking arguments, particularly about the Mongols, a subject he knows well. He is helped by his subject matter with this jarring clash of military cultures and the massive stakes involved, and his text is illuminated by Osprey’s customary excellent artwork. For me, the best Osprey books make you want to read more, and this one certainly fits that bill.
by RNS | Feb 1, 2023 | Beating Tsundoku
Gareth Glover & Robert Burnham, The Men of Wellington’s Light Division (Frontline, 2022)
The Light Division of the British Army was engaged in almost every encounter with the French in the Peninsular War. Operationally, that tells us something about the calibre of the soldiers who fought, but much of modern military history centres on what was it like to fight in this war; we survey war from the ground up. Fortunately, Glover and Burnham have uncovered multiple previously unpublished accounts from members of the 43rd Regiment of the Light Division and collected them in this volume for our enlightenment and enjoyment.
BUY NOW
The authors set the context for their sources with an annual history of the 43rd Regiment from their arrival in the Peninsula in 1808 through to their role in the Waterloo campaign. Fourteen accounts of varying lengths and quality follow, all written by officers with one exception, Private John Timewell who kept a journal of his actions in the Peninsula and the 1814 American campaign. Each chapter begins with a potted biography of the source and a note on any technical problems, mostly related to accuracy. The accounts are also well annotated with background information and clarifications on particular details. The accounts themselves offer valuable insights into military life in Wellington’s army, not just combat operations, although the latter provides the thread linking the accounts. Most of the accounts are letters, adding complexity to the soldier’s lives as domestic affairs rarely stop for wars and battles.
Glover and Burnham have collected a most useful anthology of primary sources, and they handle them with due caution, highlighting discrepancies where they appear as they inevitably do when hindsight is involved. Admittedly, this isn’t quite ‘ground level’ observation from the view of the common soldier – literacy and record-keeping were more within the purview of the officer class – but it is probably as close as we can get for the period. Nevertheless, for careful readers seeking to discover what it was like to be a part of Wellington’s army, this collection will inform and entertain.
