Historiographical texts
Historiographical texts – that is, written sources that purport to offer information about the past – generally have been favoured by modern medieval military historians because they tend to offer the greatest detail in a collective sense regarding both the overall conduct of military operations and the actions, including the supposed thoughts, of individual participants, and especially of the leadership. By contrast, many dozens of administrative documents often need to be accessed to get a similar range of information. In addition, it is rare that administrative documents are published in large quantities and even rarer to have translations of such texts. In comparison, a great many narrative sources have been translated during the past two centuries into numerous modern languages, albeit with varying degrees of quality, completeness, and accuracy.
It is certainly true that the many genres of historiographical texts (more on this in what follows) are essential for the writing of military history, or perhaps it is better to say, for answering specific questions that relate to the military history of medieval Europe. However, before the historian can draw effectively upon information in these texts to develop an accurate understanding of past events, it is necessary to understand not only the strengths but also the limitations of each type of historiographical source, and also of each individual exemplar within a genre. Taking a selection of quotations from a particular text, for example, either to prove its value or to reject its usefulness is methodologically unsound. Rather, the entire text must be evaluated as a whole. In this context, it also must be kept in mind that the authors of many historiographical texts drew upon more than one literary tradition when writing so that differentiating between genres must be done in a nuanced rather than dogmatic or rigid manner. In short, historiographical works must be understood both as works of literature and as sources.
As we begin this discussion of both the strengths and limitations of various types of historiographical sources of information, it is also important to draw attention to at least some of the most important current scholarly arguments regarding the epistemology of historical knowledge. This is the question of how we can obtain accurate information about past human action. The two authors of this volume espouse what might be termed an optimistic epistemology, meaning that we believe that it is possible to come to an accurate understanding of what happened in the past by using historiographical texts in conjunction with a wide range of additional types of sources, especially archaeological materials, which will be discussed in later sections.
This optimistic epistemology can be contrasted with a pessimistic approach to historio-graphical texts that has been illuminated recently in the works of the prominent German medieval historian Johannes Fried. In a series of books and articles, which draw upon older scholarship, Fried has argued that a true understanding of what actually happened in medieval Europe, particularly early medieval Europe, is impossible because written texts, by their very nature, cannot convey reality of the type necessary to write political history, and consequently military history as well. This pessimistic view of the value of historio-graphical sources for ascertaining aspects of what actually happened in the past depends on two basic premises. The first of these is that it was impossible for the putatively ‘oral society’ of medieval Europe, and particularly early medieval Europe, to provide an accurate record of past events. This is because humans not only forget most of the things that they have experienced; it is also the case that they remember past events inaccurately in order to suit their present needs. The second fundamental reason offered for rejecting the information provided by historiographical texts is that the authors were not concerned with providing an account of events as they happened in the past, but rather sought to use accounts of the past to shape the present in pursuit of a political, or even more commonly, an ideological agenda. In short, the distortion of the past by writers during the Middle Ages was purposeful.
The premises espoused by scholars such as Professor Fried depends on a reductio ad absurdum with respect to realities inherent in the human condition, on the one hand, and the nature of historical writing in the pre-modern period, on the other hand. It is certainly the case that human beings in the present, as well as in the past, forget much of what they have experienced, and engage, sometimes intentionally, in ‘misremembering’ for a wide range of purposes. And yet, it is also the case that all of us rely upon our memories to navigate effectively among all of our daily activities, relationships, and tasks. In short, we rely on our memories every day, and they are sufficiently reliable to enable to us to succeed far more often than not. As a corollary to this point, the written word played a much larger part in all aspects of medieval life than is granted by scholars such as Professor Fried, and this was certainly true with regard to the conduct of military affairs. In effect, the use of memory was strengthened by the equally effective use of documents.
Fried and others also are correct to point out that medieval authors generally did not write in order to provide information about ‘how things really were’. Indeed, we endorse the proposition made by scholars such as the early medieval historian Walter Goffart that medieval writers did not naïvely transmit fact, but rather were engaged in complex dialogues with their contemporaries about the proper organization of human society, at both theological and political levels. From the perspective of military history, one of the most important of these biases is the emphasis on aristocrats and their participation in warfare at the expense of all other members of society. However, the blanket rejection of all of the information provided by a historiographical text because it is clear that the author added, left out, or misrepresented some information relating to the narrative arc of the work is methodologically unsound, or to put it colloquially, is tantamount to throwing out the baby with the bathwater.
In this context, it bears emphasis that in order to create a view of the past, the authors of historiographical texts deployed facts – that is, accurate information concerning events that actually happened – to make their case. Such facts, many of which are verifiable through a wide variety of means, are of considerable importance for the writing of history by modern scholars. As a consequence, unless it can be shown that a particular medieval writer made things up – that is, produced phony information all the time in all cases – and made no use in any way of contemporary speech, dress, culture, or thought in his text, it is the task of the historian to identify what is accurate and what is not.
As a corollary to these questions with regard to the value of historiographical texts in providing accurate information about the past, we also wish to draw the readers’ attention to one further aspect of epistemological pessimism. This is the idea that historiographical sources, particularly from the early Middle Ages, are so laconic with regard to military matters that they offer very little scope for anything other than a bare bones recitation of the names of conquerors and lists of battles or sieges. This approach to historiographical sources, in our view, is a manifestation of the old-style positivistic approach to history, in which the historian’s task was to collect data points provided by the text and then develop a coherent image from them. What is missing is the use of historical imagination, which makes it possible to pose a series of questions that are raised if the information provided by a source is, in fact, accurate.
For example, the observation made by Bishop Gregory of Tours (died c.594) in his Histories that in 531 the Thuringian king Hermanfrid prepared the battlefield along the Unstrut River with ditches to thwart a potential Frankish cavalry attack opens up a number of fruitful avenues for questions. It is clear that Hermanfrid had to obtain information regarding both Frankish military organization and tactics. He had to have specific information considerably prior to the Frankish attack in order to prepare the field of battle. Consequently, the modern historian must ask, how did Hermanfrid obtain information about the approach of the Franks, how did the Thuringians know about Frankish tactics, and how did the Thuringians know that preparing a field with ditches was the proper response to the typical Frankish style of attack? These questions open the way to investigating matters such as military training and intelligence that are discussed in Chapters 6–7.