by RNS | Jun 26, 2023 | Beating Tsundoku
Douglas Miller, The German Peasants’ War 1524-26 (Helion, 2023)
When does a widespread but disconnected insurgency constitute a war? Some argue that when it comes to the revolts in German regions of the Holy Roman Empire between 1524 and 1526, it doesn’t, despite their similarities. Douglas Miller disagrees, and in this book, Miller lays out his thesis for a war that redirected the path of German sociopolitical history.
Miller takes us into the German lands of the Holy Roman Empire in the 16th Century where the peasant farmers carried more than their fair share of the social burden. This was also a time of religious and social turmoil. It is no surprise then to find a peasantry regularly on the edge of rebellion. Miller highlights that warfare too was changing, moving away from feudal elitism based on mounted knights to infantry based armies fighting with pikes. Firearms and artillery also played a more prominent role. We then move on to the military organisation of the peasant armies, including logistics and command. Miller notes the use of mercenary landsknechts on both sides. With the stage set, Miller takes us into the fighting, beginning with the war in the southwest in 1524 followed by Swabia the following year. Indeed, there were few regions that escaped the ravages of class warfare as it raged on into 1526. The effects of all this were catastrophic with devastation across great swathes of countryside and over 100,000 peasants killed or wounded. The peasants lost and retribution was harsh. Miller concludes with an analysis of how the Peasant rebellions caught fire but lacked overall leadership and were ultimately crushed by better equipped and organised armies under strategic control.
This is an excellent introduction to a complex series of rebellions that Miller argues constituted a general war. You don’t need to favour the Marxist view of history to lean towards Miller making his case; these rebellions had much in common and the ruling elites seem to have understood the general threat to their status. Miller’s engaging writing is complemented by many wonderful contemporary illustrations, battle maps and colour strategic maps, and colour plates of peasant banners and soldiers from both sides. The end result is a standout account of the Peasants’ War, and it is highly recommended for students of this period.
by RNS | Jun 17, 2023 | Beating Tsundoku
Murray Dahm, Byzantine Cavalryman versus Vandal Warrior (Osprey, 2023)
The Vandalic War, fought between 533 and 536 CE, is hardly the first war that springs to mind when discussing military history, but it was one with important ramifications for early medieval history. It is also a fascinating conflict, featuring one of the great commanders in Belisarius. In this excellent contribution to Osprey’s Combat series, Murray Dahm takes us into the action.
For those of us unfamiliar with the Vandalic War, Dahm’s introductory overview is clear and draws you into the story of this risky Byzantine expedition into North Africa. We move on to descriptions of the Byzantine and Vandal forces, the latter possibly consisting entirely of cavalry, though the evidence is admittedly sketchy. Dahm covers organisation, tactics, and equipment, deftly explaining the various technical terms that otherwise could become confusing. Three exemplar battles from the Vandalic War occupy the central portion of Dahm’s book: Ad Decimum (September 533), Tricamarum (December 533), and the Bagradas River and Scalae Veteres from 536. For each, Dahm presents the background, the action, and the result. In his analysis, Dahm highlights the crucial presence of Belisarius for Byzantine success, and he notes the surprising effectiveness of Byzantine cavalry in achieving battlefield victories. For the Vandals, their superiority in numbers masked critical weaknesses in morale and command that led to their defeat. Dahm concludes his survey with the aftermath of the Vandalic War, a story of continued Byzantine success and Vandal collapse. I should add a note here in praise of Dahm’s inclusion of a review of the sources and an excellent bibliography for such a slim volume.
The purpose of any history book is for the reader to come away from it better informed. Achieving that in 80 pages on a somewhat obscure war contested between two relatively unfamiliar powers is no mean feat. But Dahm succeeds admirably. His survey is based on Procopius, though Dahm engages profitably with his secondary sources to produce a well-balanced and well-written account. He is ably supported by Osprey’s usual high quality illustrations and maps, creating a book that is an excellent introduction to the period and a fascinating conflict.
by RNS | Jun 2, 2023 | Beating Tsundoku
James Falkner, Prince Eugene of Savoy (Pen & Sword, 2022)
If you didn’t know, Prince Eugene of Savoy was one of Europe’s greatest commanders. A colossus in an era of great rivals, Eugene has been overshadowed somewhat by the Duke of Marlborough, at least in the anglophone world of most of our military history. James Falkner offers a necessary corrective in this military biography by placing Eugene firmly in the context of the wider European history while bringing to the fore his often brilliant achievements.
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Falkner skips straight into the action after a brief nod to Eugene’s parentage and upbringing. Eugene, the unpromising teenager, absconded to Vienna from under Louis XIV’s uncaring nose to offer his service to the Habsburg Emperor Leopold. Thus began Eugene’s extraordinary career narrated in surefooted fashion by Falkner. Eugene arrived at an opportune moment, with the Ottoman empire expanding to the gates of Vienna. He earned his spurs in the fightback, despite his impecunity, and rose through the ranks in six years of fighting. He next campaigned against the French in Italy before taking up the command of the army in the East in 1697 at the age of just 33 years old. He subsequently destroyed the Ottomans at Zenta. But Eugene had little time to bask in his glory before being sent to command in the War of the Spanish Succession. That began in Italy with victories against the French, leading to his appointment as head of the Imperial War Council from where he could reorganise the Empire’s battered and out-dated armies.
Eugene joined the Duke of Marlborough on the Danube in 1704 to combine their armies against the French. The two great commanders established a lasting friendship that served both of them well as they swept to victory at Blenheim. Eugene then commanded Imperial forces in Italy again, giving the hapless French the runaround in what Falkner describes as an ‘astonishing campaign’. Eugene became Field-Marshal of the Empire as his reward. There followed the curiously lacklustre campaign to seize Toulon, which failed, and Eugene never again returned to Italy. Instead, he once more joined Marlborough to defeat the French at Oudenarde in 1708 and Malplaquet in 1709. Marlborough’s sacking by Queen Anne and Eugene’s failed diplomatic visit to London severely dented the Alliance’s chances of success against France. Eugene took part in further operations, but treaties and peace became the best options for all concerned. In 1715, Eugene’s attention returned to the Ottoman threat. A stunning victory at Peterwardein followed in 1716 then came the siege and capture of Belgrade. Eugene’s political fortunes failed to match his military successes, and Falkner winds down his biography with court politics reducing Eugene’s status before a comeback even as his health declined. Eugene took to the field one last time in 1734 in an inconclusive effort against the French. He died in his bed in 1736.
Despite Falkner describing Eugene as a ‘unique genius as a military commander’, this book is far from being a hagiography. Rather Falkner has written a straightforward account of Eugene of Savoy’s career that toes a central line for the most part, and you have to keep in mind that some of Eugene’s military achievements were truly astonishing. Falkner also points out Eugene’s faults, particularly his seeming ambivalence, or negligence, of courtly politics with unfortunate personal results. Falkner is also even-handed in establishing the context for Eugene’s career, with Vienna looking east at the Ottoman threat as much as anything coming from France. That reduces the anglophile emphasis on Eugene and Marlborough so common in books relating to this pivotal era in European history. If you don’t know Eugene of Savoy but keep hearing his name, then Falkner’s biography is a solid and reliable place to start.
by RNS | May 30, 2023 | Beating Tsundoku
Myke Cole, The Bronze Lie (Osprey, 2021)
They were the Spartans, an elite and fanatical society renowned for their dedication to developing and maintaining military superiority over the Greeks and those who came against them, most notably the Persians. The Spartans sacrificed every aspect of their culture to that cause, earning them admiration and wonder ever since, especially among military thinkers envious of Sparta’s reputation. But was it real? Was Sparta too good to be true? Myke Cole thinks so, and he is here to burst the Spartan bubble.
Cole begins with a passionate explanation on why the myth of Spartan military supremacy, beloved by the modern Far Right in particular, is toxic and needs to be exposed. He sets about his task with gusto. He describes Spartan society and culture, knocking down each myth as it arises and revealing an idealised apartheid system that doesn’t stand up to historical scrutiny. Cole highlights the contradictions at all points of the myth, from the curious upbringing of eugenically selected boys to become warriors to the notion that Spartans were super-soldiers. He then takes us into Sparta’s wars and battles, beginning in the Archaic period (800-490 BC) and the First Messenian War, which lasted a suspiciously long time for proper myth creation. Cole moves from battle to battle in this and subsequent wars, highlighting Sparta’s failures as much as their successes. He notes that they were particularly inept at conducting sieges.
The Greco-Persian wars loom large in Sparta’s reputation, particularly the famous last stand at Thermopylae. Cole is having none of it, and to that he adds Plataea as a battle where you need to take the much vaunted Spartan achievements with more than a pinch of salt, though he acknowledges the Spartans as excellent heavy infantry in combat. For the Peloponnesian War, Cole argues that Athens lost it more than Sparta won it. He essays this argument through another series of battles in which the legend of Spartan superiority was finally and fatally punctured despite some subsequent victories that led to victory in the war. Nevertheless, Spartan supremacy lasted only one year followed by a three decade long decline, punctuated by victories and defeats in accordance with the rest of their military history. What remained of Spartan power was broken by Thebes at Leuctra in 371. Cole continues his relentless assault on the Spartans, labelling them as ‘irreformable’ and ‘irrelevant’ as their state dissolved into the Hellenistic world. He concludes with an unusual and fascinating overview of why destroying the Spartan myth matters today in the continuing fetishisation of them, particularly by the Far Right. A note on historiography and a solid bibliography complete Cole’s excursion into the Spartan world.
The myth of Spartan military supremacy has been exploded in academic circles for over a century as Cole acknowledges in his introduction. However, Cole brings that into the public sphere with a refreshing enthusiasm. There will be those who bemoan the lack of footnotes and referencing, but Cole makes it clear those aren’t difficult to find if you follow the original sources. A second quibble is Cole’s win/lose summaries of Spartan battles that might be a bit too simplistic, though his detailed analyses of many of the actions provides enough cover here. Overall, Cole makes a compelling case for burying the Spartan myth and the timeliness of the book is evident in a world where too many see the Spartans as exemplars rather than the flawed people they actually were. Anyone interested in Sparta and ancient warfare will enjoy this and appreciate Cole’s military insight.
by RNS | May 23, 2023 | Beating Tsundoku
David Grant, Alexander the Great A Battle for Truth and Fiction (Pen & Sword, 2022)
David Grant describes the ancient sources as, ‘that knotted and frayed ball of historically intertwined string’. They are riddled with problems, awash in unreliability, and seemingly worthless if the depressing introduction is anything to go by. Grant spends the next 200 pages reinforcing that view.
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Grant begins with the primary sources, those closest to Alexander, and those writing during the wars of Alexander’s Successors, which makes them suspect almost by definition as they promoted their candidates to inherit Alexander’s legacy. Grant also highlights chronological issues leading to problems in the historiography. He then moves onto the secondary Roman sources and their cultural filters. Here Grant introduces the damaging art of rhetoric that permeated historical writing along with the historians he describes as the Compiler, Entertainer, Preacher, and the Romanized Soldier, all of them labelled ‘misdirecting preservatives’. Grant also attacks the numbers used in battle descriptions and the Roman acceptance of them, which seems a bit of a straw man to swing the hatchet at, but it is in keeping with the theme of Grant’s book. He also devotes a chapter to tearing down the Greek Alexander Romance as a combination of history and legend before a treatment of how Alexander’s death helped foster his legend. A digression on the treatment of Alexander’s women follows, then Grant turns to actual and potential historical forgeries. The latter reviews books lost, such as those burned with the library at Alexandria, and those filtered through various processes including mediaeval monasteries. Renaissance attempts to recover ancient texts and accusations of forgery occupy Grant, and difficulties in reproducing accurate texts continued through the 19th Century. Grant notes the paucity of original texts to begin with in a wide ranging diatribe where even the names of some of the original writers is called into question, particularly the enigmatic Quintus Curtius Rufus. Grant sums up the pursuit of Alexander as a cautionary tale where the historians have muddied the waters to such an extent that the historical Alexander may never be found.
As someone with a passion for studying history, I found Grant’s book useful but bleak. It is standard practice, of course, to question our sources, but while Grant is clearly knowledgeable, he brings that to the brink of annihilation when it comes to recovering Alexander the Great. Yet, there are places in his text where Grant alludes to a workable history of Alexander, and he notes the work of historians and other specialists who have worked diligently to analyse the sources, separating the wheat from the chaff. Grant doesn’t do that, seemingly accepting the defeat, or is he just keeping his cards close to his chest? I couldn’t quite discern the answer to that. Nevertheless, Grant highlights the problems with sources for Alexander and does so in a clear, structured manner, and for that, we should be grateful.
