Читать книгу Art of War - Sun-tzu - Страница 26

Pieter Bruegel the Elder, The Suicide of Saul (detail), 1562.

Oil on oak, 33.5 × 55 cm.

Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien, Vienna.

Battle of Tolbiac
(496 CE)

At the age of one-and-twenty, Clovis found himself at the head of the Salian Franks, whose central position was at Tournesis, or Tournay. Rome yet retained within her feeble hold a district independent of the barbarians, of which the governor was Syagrius, and the chief city Soissons. Two such neighbours could not long retain their relative position. On the one side was a community in the last stage of decadence, without patriotic spirit, moral strength, or martial skill; on the other, a young society, trained to war and rapine as the main object of its being, and uniting to the energy of youth contempt for its foe and the confidence inspired by victories already won. The result may be imagined. Clovis set forth with the intent to conquer Syagrius, perhaps with the hope of mastering the whole of Gaul. The first objective he instantly achieved at the Battle of Soissons, in 486.

The next step in his progress was his union with Clotilde, the Catholic daughter of Chilperic II, the Arian king of the Burgundians. This union of Clovis with Clotilde did what a union with no other woman in Europe could have done, bringing him within the great and growing influence of the orthodox Latin church. What the position of the Church was, between the Barbarians on the one side, and the Empire on the other, had been complicated by the establishment of the Visigoth and Burgundian kingdoms, whose rulers professed the Arian heresy.

The Catholics, then, as the stay of imperial support was gradually withdrawn beyond the Alps, felt the necessity of some other equally powerful support against the secular auxiliaries whom their Arian rivals had acquired, and who, they well knew, would be used against the interests of the Orthodox Church. At this very crisis, the Frank appeared in the northern horizon, and, by a masterpiece of policy, they secured his aid. Nor, if the invader brought assistance to the Church, was the Church less useful to the invader: she could smooth the way for his advance among the old semi-Roman population, where her authority was respected, by conciliating their affections towards a co-religionist, and by representing the redoubtable leader of those terrible legions as the child and champion of the faith.

An immense band of barbarians, fresher from their forests, and, therefore, more fierce and dreadful than the Franks themselves, were advancing rapidly upon Gaul. Clovis rushed to the rescue, and met them at Tolbiac. There, in the “current of a heady fight,” when he saw his battalions waver beneath the furious charges of the enemy, he cried to the God of Clotilde for help, and vowed to adore Him if he might yet restore the day. He conquered; and he kept his vow.

At Rheims, he received the rite of Christian baptism from its bishop, St Remi, amid more than the usual pageantry and splendour of the Catholic ceremonial. Three thousand of his warriors followed their chief’s example. Thus, says Michelet, did the Church take solemn possession of the Barbarians. The subsequent career of Clovis was a succession of triumphs.

(adapted from: The Fall of Rome, and the Rise of the New Nationalities by G. Sheppard)

Ary Scheffer, Battle of Tolbiac, 1836.

Oil on canvas, 415 × 465 cm.

Musée national des châteaux de Versailles et de Trianon, Versailles.

Carl von Steuben, Charles Martel in the Battle of Poitiers, 1834–1837.

Oil on canvas, 542 × 465 cm.

Musée national des châteaux de Versailles et de Trianon, Versailles.

Carl von Steuben, Charles Martel in the Battle of Poitiers, (details) 1834–1837.

Battle of Tours
(10 October, 732 CE)

Although three centuries had passed since the Germanic conquerors of Rome had crossed the Rhine, never to repass that frontier stream, no settled system of institutions or government, no amalgamation of the various races into our people, no uniformity of language or habits had been established in the country at the time when Charles Martel was called to repel the Saracenic invasion from the south. Exactly a century passed between the death of Mohammed and the date of the Battle of Tours. During that century the followers of the Prophet had torn away half the Roman Empire; and, besides their conquests over Persia, the Saracens had overrun Syria, Egypt, Africa, and Spain, in an uncheckered and apparently irresistible career of victory. It was under one of their ablest and most renowned commanders, with a veteran army, and with every apparent advantage of time, place, and circumstance, that the Arabs made their great effort at the conquest of Europe north of the Pyrenees.

In addition to his cardinal military virtues, Abderrahman is described by the Arab writers as a model of integrity and justice. The first two years of his second administration in Spain were occupied in severe reforms of the abuses which under his predecessors had crept into the system of government, and in extensive preparations for his intended conquest in Gaul. It was from this formidable host that Gaul and Christendom were at last rescued by the strong arm of Prince Charles; Charles Martel added experienced skill to his natural courage, and he had also formed a militia of veterans among the Franks. But when we remember that Charles had no standing army, and the independent spirit of the Frank warriors who followed his standard, it seems most probable that it was not in his power to adopt the cautious policy of watching the invaders, and wearing out their strength by delay.

Near the River Owar, the two great hosts of the two languages and the two creeds were set in array against each other. The Muslim horsemen dashed fierce and frequent forward against the battalions of the Franks, who resisted manfully, and many fell dead on either side, until the going down of the sun. Their cavaliers had soon hewn their way into the centre of the Christian host. But many of the Muslims were fearful for the safety of the spoil which they had stored in their tents, and a false cry arose in their ranks that some of the enemy were plundering the camp; whereupon several squadrons of the Muslim horsemen rode off to protect their tents. But it seemed as if they fled; and all the host was troubled. And, while Abderrahman strove to check their tumult, and to lead them back to battle, the warriors of the Franks came around him, and he was pierced through with many spears, so that he died. Then all the host fled before the enemy and many died in the flight.

(adapted from: The Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World: from Marathon to Waterloo by E. S. Creasy)

Eight stages of The Song of Roland in one picture, 15th century. From Philip the Good’s copy of the Grandes Chroniques de France.

Illumination.

The State Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg.

Battle of Roncevaux Pass
(15 August, 778 CE)

Composed some time after the Vita Caroli of 830 – most likely in the late 11th century for William the Conqueror – The Song of Roland comprises the narration of the events leading up to and including the Battle of Roncevaux. The written Song includes and embellishes upon what appears to be an already established oral narrative tradition, in which the characters of the geste become stronger, more prolific in battle, and nobler with each re-telling. All of this evidence of successive embellishments points to two things regarding the portrayal of the individual in The Song of Roland. First, the supernumeration and repetition of the heroic qualities of the principals in the tale point to the assumed familiarity of the reading/listening audience with the weltanschauung presented by the author. Second, the addition of mythic figures, especially Charlemagne, into the narrative reveals the structural hieratism of the author’s view of the relationship between the individual and society.