Medieval Mercenaries

The Business of War

William Urban

• Publisher: Frontline Books
• Year: 2020
• Print ISBN: 9781848328549
• eBook ISBN: 9781848328556
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Military & Maritime History
• Index: History

The Middle Ages were a turbulent and violent time, when the fate of nations was most often decided on the battlefield, and strength of arms was key to acquiring and maintaining power. Feudal oaths and local militias were more often than not incapable of providing the skilled and disciplined warriors necessary to keep the enemy at bay. It was the mercenary who stepped in to fill the ranks. A mercenary was a professional soldier who took employment with no concern for the morals or cause of the paymaster. But within these confines we discover a surprising array of men, from the lowest-born foot soldier to the wealthiest aristocrat the occasional clergyman, even. What united them all was a willingness, and often the desire, to fight for their supper.In this benchmark work, William Urban explores the vital importance of the mercenary to the medieval power-broker, from the Byzantine Varangian Guard to fifteenth-century soldiers of fortune in the Baltic. Through contemporary chronicles and the most up-to-date scholarship, he presents an in-depth portrait of the mercenary across the Middle Ages.

1

EARLY MEDIEVAL MERCENARIES

THE CONNECTION BETWEEN mercenary and employer is money. Early Germanic tribesmen might serve in Roman armies, but for their own wars they relied on promises of booty, oaths of loyalty and ancient tribal traditions. Mutual protection was also important, and coercion, too. It is a mistake to think of the German tribes as composed of pure racial or linguistic groups – tribes dissolved and reformed repeatedly, often with only a mythological connection to the royal family; clans were not limited to blood relatives and those who married members, but were practical means of assuring mutual aid and protection. Although in moments of danger blood might be thicker than water, oaths to give aid were thicker yet – and since some of these groups were little more than bands of brigands, we could say, ‘thick as thieves’.

We can look upon the late Roman legion alternatively as a mercenary force or professional army. The commanders recruited young barbarians, trained them, and made them loyal to themselves; they left alone Roman citizens and serfs, who were too important to the economy to be wasted in service along the frontiers – they were needed to produce crops and pay taxes. No taxes, no food = no army. When the defences of the western empire collapsed, the government there lost much of its ability to collect taxes, after which it could not raise armies to restore the frontiers and internal order. In the east, in contrast, in that part of the Roman state we call the Byzantine Empire, vast areas remained untouched by rampaging invaders. This made it possible for the emperors to restore agricultural production in devastated regions, and thus to survive for many centuries to come.

Constantinople was the heart of the Eastern Roman Empire, and although the emperors and people there all spoke Greek, they still considered themselves Roman. The city remained Greek-speaking until 1453, then Greek in spirit even longer; and more than a few Greeks today believe that it should be Greek again.

The emperors’ Roman predecessors had hired Germans because they considered them good warriors and likely to be loyal. This lasted until the Germans took over the government of the western empire themselves. Then Byzantine emperors replaced their Germans with a new farmer-soldier class and a wide variety of hired barbarians. The emperors were very practical on military matters. Most of all they advised flexibility, which could be achieved by selecting the right mix of mercenaries for each war.

Byzantine armies were models of efficiency and organisation. The emperors raised competent generals to command, men who had been formally trained in strategy and tactics; and who had modern technologies such as Greek fire to call upon. The military manuals advised commanders to study the enemy’s army, then raise forces appropriate for countering its strengths and playing upon its weaknesses; the central striking force was often composed of mercenaries – the Varangian Guard being the most famous.

Byzantine wealth naturally attracted the attention of greedy neighbours – pagan Persians, Muslim Arabs, Bulgars and Russians who eventually adopted Byzantium’s Orthodox faith, western Christians and ultimately Muslim Turks. The Byzantine armies fought off all but the last, and even then were able to delay the final Turkish triumph for centuries.

VIKINGS

The western counterpart of the Byzantine Empire was created by Charlemagne and eventually became known as the Holy Roman Empire. Roman institutions, however, were few – principally maintained by the Church – and this Frankish state soon collapsed under the weight of Muslim, Hungarian and Viking attacks. The rulers of the successor states parcelled out lands to men who could provide military protection and supervise basic governmental services. Such a primitive system was viewed with disdain by Byzantines.

In turn, western Europeans who prided themselves on once having been associated with Rome, or at least with the name Roman, looked upon the Vikings as simple barbarians. While there was some truth to this assessment, it was also misleading. In many ways – in literature, art and maritime technology – the Vikings were a very sophisticated people; they also possessed a vitality that seemed to be lacking elsewhere.

In the ninth century Scandinavians overran many of their neighbours’ territories. While Danes went to southern England and Normandy, and Norwegians to Scotland, Ireland and Iceland, the Swedes went east, sailing up rivers into what is today Russia, then transferring to rivers leading down to the Islamic and Byzantine worlds. Most took along goods for sale – usually human beings collected along the shores of the Baltic and North Seas; later Vikings served in the famed Varangian Guard.

At Saint Olaf College in Northfield, Minnesota, one dining room is (or used to be, in an era when it was acceptable to portray Vikings as warriors rather than as merchants, settlers and explorers) decorated with a large map of medieval Europe, with the Viking raids indicated by little burning buildings. The area of Poland is blank because while the Vikings left enough survivors elsewhere to record their depredations, their devastation of the Polish coast was almost total. (Some scholars see a connection between the words Slav and Slave, reflecting the huge numbers of Slavs who were sold down the Russian rivers.) This slave trade was one basis for the prosperity of the Scandinavian economies. Male slaves often ended up as eunuchs, the women as servants and concubines.

Viking warriors served Scandinavian kings as bodyguards and tax collectors, but the best pay and the most alluring off-duty attractions were to be found in Constantinople.

THE VARANGIAN GUARD

In 987 the Byzantine emperor Basil II (976–1025) asked Vladimir of Kiev to lend him some 6,000 warriors. From that time on, Basil’s armies were invincible; when he crushed the powerful Bulgarian state, he became known as ‘the Bulgar killer’. He advanced the borders of the Byzantine state to the Danube River in the north and into Syria in the east. Scholarly opinion is divided as to Vladimir’s ethnic origins. Russians say that he was a Slav; almost everyone else thinks he was a descendant of Viking immigrants. It doesn’t really matter. What is important is that from that time until 1204, when western crusaders captured Constantinople, the Varangian Guard was there to defend imperial interests.

As time passed the guard was recruited from ever more distant regions – first Russia, then Scandinavia, and finally England and Iceland. The decline in Viking recruits after the Christianisation of Scandinavia perhaps reflects the desire of the Viking kings to live in peace. They had overrun England and parts of France and Ireland and wanted more than anything to collect taxes peacefully. Ending the raids would also reduce the likelihood of potential rivals earning a military reputation. As a result, young men looking for work as mercenaries had to travel far. And Constantinople was, if anything, far away.

Except for critical moments during rebellions and foreign invasions, the Varangian Guard rarely left Constantinople; the name apparently came from the oath they had taken, but this, like many details passed down by oral tradition, is unclear. The Scandinavian mercenaries had their own barracks not far from the imperial palace, conveniently located for protecting the imperial person and his family. They were also employed to suppress the riots that could be anticipated at major sporting events and for arresting nobles and religious leaders who incurred imperial wrath.

The commander of the Varangian Guard ultimately became a kingmaker. The best example was Harald Hardrada (1015–66), himself king of Norway after 1047, a tall but well-proportioned warrior with long blond moustaches and one eyebrow permanently arched. He had, according to the appropriately named King Harald’s Saga, fled Norway after rebels had killed his half-brother, Saint Olaf, in 1030. Harald made his way to Byzantium, found employment with the emperor, and was soon the Guard’s commander. For several years he often won battles or concluded sieges by cleverness and cunning rather than sheer physical prowess; he was known for his ruthlessness, his pride and his long memory for insults. His saga by Snorri Sturluson, found in the Heimkringla, is filled with tales of his valour and enterprise.

One anecdote concerned the Varangians’ freedom from direct control by the Greek commander of the army, which fundamentally meant that Harald could keep his men out of dangerous situations. The decisive dispute that settled the matter did not occur in the face of the enemy, where Harald could be accused of disloyalty, disobedience and cowardice, but on the march. One evening the Vikings arrived first at the assigned campsite, where they chose the most comfortable place to spend the night. When the commander arrived, he ordered the Varangian Guard to move so that he could pitch his own tents there. Harald challenged his right to give this order, since the Varangian Guard was solely under the command of the emperor and empress. When the dispute reached the point that each side was pulling out its weapons, Harald suggested that the two commanders draw lots, the loser to withdraw his claims both to the campsite and the larger question of command. The commander agreed, on condition that the two lots to be drawn would be identical except for the mark made by the two men. When the commander had made a sign on his mark, Harald asked to see it so that he would not accidentally duplicate it. The Greek showed him his lot, after which Harald made his mark and put it in the container from which a trustworthy referee would draw one lot. However, the instant that the marker was drawn, Harald snatched it from the referee’s hand and threw it far into the water. The Greek objected, saying that now nobody would know who had won. Harald, however, said that all they had to do was look at the remaining lot; they would see that the Greek’s mark was upon it; therefore, the one that had been drawn and then thrown away had to be Harald’s.

Harald did not trust the emperor to safeguard the treasure he was accumulating, but sent it immediately to Jaroslav of Novgorod for safe keeping. He sacked four towns in Sicily and Africa, each time by a clever ruse. The last city was far too large and well defended to take by storm; the only chance to get into the city was by trickery. Harald started by spreading the word that he was ill, then that his condition had worsened, and lastly that he had died, after which his men requested permission to bury Harald inside the city’s church. The monks dutifully came out to take the coffin, but the Vikings arranged to drop it right in the gate, thus preventing the defenders from closing it when the rest of the army charged.

A later expedition took Harald to Jerusalem, then even further east so that he could bathe in the Jordan. Although normally only half-Christian in spirit and actions (he later had two wives at one time), he donated great riches to the churches in the holy city. No point in not buying eternal life insurance when the opportunity presented itself.

Harald’s plans to leave Byzantine service was not good news to the emperor, Michael IV (1034–41), who would have difficulty replacing him, and even less welcome to the fifty-five-year-old empress, Zoe, who was rumoured to have lusted after his handsome body. Michael was acting on politics rather than potential romantic affairs when he confined Zoe to a convent, but it was a mistake. Michael died suddenly and unexpectedly – as had Zoe’s first husband, Romanus III, in 1034. Zoe returned to the palace, married her husband’s incompetent and unattractive nephew, Michael V, thereby placating those who insisted on a male ruler.

In the complicated power struggle that followed Harald threw his support to Zoe, whose best claim to exercise power was being the niece of Basil II and for a knowledge of perfume manufacture unrivalled until the twentieth century. She seems to have put her knowledge of chemistry to the process of invigorating her husbands, then ‘devigorating’ them. Her efforts to become pregnant at an advanced age reflect better on her determination than her understanding of biological principles. Michael V eventually tired of the effort. He had first been her lover, then her husband, and finally he wanted to be emperor on his own. He packed Zoe off to a convent.

Michael might have got away with this if Zoe had not been so popular, if he had been more able or if he had cultivated the support of the Varangian Guard. But arresting Harald on charges of misappropriating public funds was one mistake too many. Michael V was overthrown in 1042 by a conspiracy involving dynastic loyalists, careerist politicians and the Varangian Guard. Harald restored Zoe to power, then blinded her husband and sent him to a monastery.

The episode fits perfectly into the stereotype of ‘Byzantine politics’ – a court characterised by jealousy, secrecy, complex plots and universal corruption. It was the perfect environment for an ambitious mercenary general to rise to prominence. Had Harald’s royal blood been Greek rather than Norwegian, he could have become emperor; perhaps, despite his being a foreigner, he could have married Zoe and ruled as long as she lived. But that seemed a poor career move. He said no.

Zoe, resenting rejection, began to listen to Harald’s enemies. Soon Harald heard the call of Norway, where the usurper had become unpopular; the moment seem right for a Christian to sit upon the northern throne again.

Harald, having assessed Zoe’s governing abilities as minimal and her physical attractiveness even lower, escaped from the great city and sailed for home with legendary quantities of moveable wealth, reputedly taking with him for a short while the empress’s niece, who was ready to marry him. Harald tarried in Novgorod on his voyage long enough to woo Jaroslav’s daughter, Ilsabe – ‘the golden lady in Russia’. As Snorri wrote in his rhymed story:

The warlike king of Norway

Won the match of his desire;

He gained a king’s daughter

And a hoard of gold as well.

Such was the literature that inspired future generations of Scandinavian youths to dream of fame and fortune, earned as mercenaries abroad.

SAXON ENGLAND

The Saxons had conquered England from the Romano-British in the fifth and sixth centuries, effectively eliminating them as a factor in language, religion and government, leaving behind only the semi-mythical stories of King Arthur to commemorate the long and bitter struggle. The Saxons in their turn fell victim to the Vikings in the ninth and tenth centuries, but with less dire results; when Danes and Norwegians overran most of the British Isles, they only forced the Saxons, Scots and Irish to pay tribute.

The most important Viking physical presence was in eastern and central England, in the Danelaw, where they gave new vigour to the economy, especially to the town of York. Saxon resistance to the Vikings in the west led to a union of the petty kingdoms under King Alfred (871–99), who hired the first English mercenaries, Frisian sailors who had their own reasons for disliking Danes and liking regular pay; later kings hired professional guards called housecarls. Eventually all Saxons accepted Danish sovereignty as long as the king remained far away. King Canute (1016–35...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• List of Illustrations
• Foreword
• Preface
• Maps
• Chapter 1: Early Medieval Mercenaries
• Chapter 2: Early Italian Mercenaries
• Chapter 3: The ‘Classic’ Medieval Mercenary
• Chapter 4: Chivalry
• Chapter 5: The Hundred Years War: Part One
• Chapter 6: Forming the Victorian Imagination: Chaucer’s Knight and Twain’s Saint
• Chapter 7: Forming the Victorian Imagination: The White Company
• Chapter 8: The Crusades in the Baltic
• Chapter 9: The Hundred Years War: Part Two
• Chapter 10: The Renaissance
• Chapter 11: The Black Guard
• Chapter 12: Machiavelli
• Chapter 13: Mercenaries in the Late Medieval Baltic
• Chapter 14: Summary
• Sources