The Military Fronts of the Altaic Nomads (Fourth Century b.c.-Twelfth Century a.d.)

2017 ◽  
pp. 19-58
Author(s):  
Gerard Chaliand
2021 ◽  
Vol 18 (1) ◽  
pp. 86-133
Author(s):  
Trevor Van Damme ◽  
Susan Lupack

After a long gap in the ceramic record following the twelfth century bc, ceramic materials dating from the eighth through the fourth century bc are documented in our excavations. This contribution presents for the first time the key deposits of Archaic and Classical material identified on the acropolis of Eleon from 2011 to 2014, including the evidence for the dating of the polygonal wall, the only monumental construction of this period identified so far at the site. Attention is also drawn to the large quantities of votive materials recovered from the ramped entryway and other areas of the site, which appear to attest to one or more cults operating on the acropolis during the sixth through the fourth century bc, if not earlier.


Author(s):  
Simon James

Dura-Europos was a product and ultimately a victim of the interaction of Mediterranean- and Iranian-centred imperial powers in the Middle East which began with Alexander the Great’s conquest of the Achaemenid Persian empire in the later fourth century BC. Its nucleus was established as part of the military infrastructure and communications network of the Seleucid successor-state. It was expanding into a Greekstyle polis during the second century BC, as Seleucid control was being eroded from the east by expanding Arsacid Parthian power, and threatened from the west by the emergent imperial Roman republic. From the early first century BC, the Roman and Parthian empires formally established the Upper Euphrates as the boundary between their spheres of influence, and the last remnants of the Seleucid regime in Syria were soon eliminated. Crassus’ attempt to conquer Parthia ended in disaster at Carrhae in 53 BC, halting Roman ambitions to imitate Alexander for generations. The nominal boundary on the Upper Euphrates remained, although the political situation in the Middle East remained fluid. Rome long controlled the Levant largely indirectly, through client rulers of small states, only slowly establishing directly ruled provinces with Roman governors, a process mostly following establishment of the imperial regime around the turn of the millennia. However, some client states like Nabataea still existed in AD 100 (for overviews see Millar 1993; Ball 2000; Butcher 2003; Sartre 2005). The Middle Euphrates, in what is now eastern Syria, lay outside Roman control, although it is unclear to what extent Dura and its region—part of Mesopotamia, and Parapotamia on the west bank of the river—were effectively under Arsacid control before the later first century AD. For some decades, Armenia may have been the dominant regional power (Edwell 2013, 192–5; Kaizer 2017, 70). As the Roman empire increasingly crystallized into clearly defined, directly ruled provinces, the contrast with the very different Arsacid system became starker. The ‘Parthian empire’, the core of which comprised Iran and Mesopotamia with a western royal capital at Ctesiphon on the Tigris, was a much looser entity (Hauser 2012).


1983 ◽  
Vol 20 ◽  
pp. 79-101 ◽  
Author(s):  
Colin Morris

It was accepted in western Europe, in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, that there was an obligation upon the military classes, and indeed on Christians generally, to take up arms in defence of the Holy Sepulchre, or to participate in other expeditions authorised by the ecclesiastical hierarchy. War ceased to be, for Christians, a regrettable necessity, and became a virtue, and armies were summoned by the trumpet-blasts of the Prince of Peace. There has been a great deal of work by historians in recent decades on the transformation of earlier Christian ideology, and we now understand much more about the origins of crusading ideas, the discussion of warfare by theologians and canon lawyers, and the profound changes in spirituality which accompanied the rise of militarism. There is however a technical aspect of the subject which is less often considered: the actual methods by which the new ideals were communicated to western society generally. By any standards, it was a remarkably successful exercise in publicity. It was also, in the first instance, very rapid. Urban II announced the expedition to Jerusalem at the Council of Clermont in November 1095, and he fixed the date of departure as 15 August 1096. The summons was heard by groups far wider than the princes and their households, and by Easter 1096 an army led by Peter the Hermit had already arrived in Cologne on its way from northern France. Within a few months, therefore, and well in advance of the papal deadline, the message had spread to all levels of society over a wide geographical area. A system of communication as effective as this deserves our respect and study. It would be a mistake to conclude from the total absence of modern technology that the control of opinion was unimportant in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.


1957 ◽  
Vol 4 ◽  
pp. 3-10
Author(s):  
G. T. Griffith

It seems uncertain whether the Macedonian infantrymen of Philip II had breast-plates or not. How much it matters, too, is also perhaps uncertain, though obviously it mattered not a little to the men themselves at the time, whether or not they carried on them that combination of strength and of weight, of moral comfort and physical encumbrance, that a breastplate meant to the man inside it. There may perhaps be something in this question, too, for the social historian as well as for the military specialist.That Greek hoplites of the archaic period normally wore breastplates appears from vase-paintings, especially those proto-Corinthian examples which show combats not of individuals but of opposing phalanxes: it appears, too, from Tyrtaeus. Xenophon in theAnabasis, when he makes a passing remark about casualties on one occasion, gives the same impression about the Ten Thousand, who were predominantly a hoplite force. But breastplates were not uniform. Metal ones could vary greatly in weight, and there were variants (πĩλοι, σπολάδες) that were probably quite light in metal, on linen or leather. It has been suggested with some likelihood that in the fifth century the solid metal type virtually went out of use. If this were so, then the peltasts of the early fourth century would represent a logical development from a hoplite who had already become lighter than of old. It would seem logical for the pekast to have no breastplate at all, an arrangement incidentally that might suit well the mercenaries of the day who often were peltasts, and who were often poor men unlikely to own expensive equipment. But in spite of their occasional spectacular successes even against hoplites, the peltasts did not supersede them, so far as can be seen, in the citizen armies of the Greek cities. Indeed in the Hellenistic period still, in a treaty of about 270 B.C. between the Aetolians and the Acarnanians, the clause providing for reciprocal military aid distinguishes between three classes of infantry: (1) those who wore breastplates (πανοπλίαν), (2) those wore τὸ ἡμιθωράκιον, and (3) those who had no defensive armour (ψιλῲ). The first class is presumably, still, the hoplite.


2002 ◽  
Vol 48 ◽  
pp. 102-122 ◽  
Author(s):  
Polly Low

In 395 BC, after just under a decade of (nominal) peace between Athens and Sparta, the Corinthian War broke out, and, for the first time since the end of the Peloponnesian War, forces of Athenian cavalry were despatched to fight on behalf of their own city. The surviving historical narratives of the events at Haliartus in that year, and at Corinth and Coronea the next, are often incomplete, inconsistent, or both; the detail of what contribution – if any – was made by the cavalry to the campaign is no exception to that pattern. My aim in what follows, however, is not to attempt to reach the truth of what really happened in those engagements, but rather to look at a small group of material produced by and about members of the cavalry forces involved in the campaign, and to explore some of the ways in which the military exploits of this stereotypically rich and élite section of Athenian society are represented in the city – especially in contexts with particularly democratic associations. In doing so, I want to investigate the idea that Athenian attitudes to the cavalry undergo a significant, and hostile, shift at the end of the Peloponnesian War: the claim, that is, that the cavalry had always been a distinct group in Athens, but, in the 390s, that distinction comes in the form of infamy rather than fame. But I also hope to demonstrate the necessity of adopting a more nuanced approach to the study of the formation of these (positive or negative) attitudes: the image of the cavalry is shaped by the views of those outside that class, but also by the cavalry themselves; moreover, the cavalry are not necessarily simply reactive in their self-presentation, but can be allowed a more proactive role in the shaping of their own self-image.


1937 ◽  
Vol 17 (2) ◽  
pp. 138-178 ◽  
Author(s):  
Adrian Oswald

Villas are so uniform in character that they arouse comparatively little interest compared with the military problems of Roman Britain. But a villa surrounded by ditches, whether for defensive purposes or not, can be immediately classed as a rarity. A list of such examples of domestic fortification in the Roman period includes the houses at Castle Dykes, near Ripon, at Cwmbrwyn in Carmarthenshire, at Bartlow in Cambridgeshire, at Langton in Yorkshire, and at Ely near Cardiff. Of these only the two last have been scientifically excavated, and only the house at Ely has fortifications which conform to the building. In these circumstances the discovery of a villa surrounded by five ditches and occupied, through five periods of construction and reconstruction, from the latter half of the first to the middle of the fourth century is of particular interest.The villa in question is situated some 200 yards east of the Fosseway, at a point 9 miles south of Lincoln and a mile and a half north of Brough (Crococolana). The site is marked on the Ordnance Survey and known locally as Potter Hill. It comprises a long ridge of land some hundred feet higher than the plain in which Crococolana is placed. Stukeley in his Itinerary says, ‘and journeying to the space of about 12 Roman miles, I found Collingham on my right hand: there is a high barrow or tumulus called Potters Hill, where they say was a Roman pottery: it stands upon an eminence commanding a prospect both ways upon the road. Half a mile further is Brough.’Nevertheless the presence of a Roman building was not suspected until the discovery in 1933 by the farmer, Mr. E. Taylor, of a mosaic pavement.


2002 ◽  
Vol 11 (2) ◽  
pp. 99-112 ◽  
Author(s):  
Neil Moran

The employment of castrati in the Byzantine Church can be traced back to the choirmaster Brison in the fourth century. Brison was called upon by John Chrysostom to organize the antiphonal hymn-singing in the patriarchal church. Since eunuchs were generally considered to be remnants of a pagan past, castrati are seldom mentioned in early Byzantine sources, but beginning in the tenth century references to eunuchs or castrati became more and more frequent. By the twelfth century all the professional singers in the Hagia Sophia were castrati. The repertory of the castrati is discussed and the question is raised whether the introduction of castrati to the Sistine Chapel was influenced by the employment of castrati in Italo-Greek cloisters.


1972 ◽  
Vol 52 (1) ◽  
pp. 93-131 ◽  
Author(s):  
Martin Biddle

SummaryExcavations in 1970 took place on three major and two smaller sites. The early Norman chapel discovered this year within the castle at Castle Yard was described in the previous interim report. At Lankhills sixty-eight fourth-century graves were examined, bringing the total excavated to 219. The graves can now be classified in an approximately chronological sequence according to contents and burial practice. At Lower Brook Street early fifth-century pottery of North German origin suggests the presence of mercenary or federate elements in the final stages of the Roman town. St. Mary's Church appears to have originated in the tenth century by the addition of an apse to an earlier rectangular stone building possibly of domestic character. In Houses IX and XII several phases of twelfth-century timber construction were excavated, but Houses X and XI, adjacent to St. Mary's to north and south, seem to have been open plots at this time. The later phases of St. Pancras' Church were examined and the twelfth-century church uncovered. On the Cathedral Green the excavation of Building E showed that it was the south range of a large courtyard complex, probably to be interpreted as the claustral buildings of New Minster in the period c. 1066–1110. Earlier stages may represent the infirmary of the Anglo-Saxon monastery. At Wolvesey Palace the east hall of c. 1130 was stripped and the later phases of its complex development worked out in detail. A ‘reredorter’ block added to the north end of the west hall about 1135 was cleared of many later phases of reconstruction. The excavation of the central courtyard revealed a twelfth-century well-house. A final season will take place in 1971.


1981 ◽  
Vol 32 (4) ◽  
pp. 427-451 ◽  
Author(s):  
J. C. Ward

The great expansion in monasticism in Normandy and England in the eleventh and twelfth centuries is a commonplace of medieval history, as is the marked diminution in monastic grants after c. 1200. Far more attention, however, has been paid to the religious houses than to their founders, and it is only by looking at a baronial family over a long period that one can discern the fashions which undoubtedly existed in monastic benefaction and the changes in attitude of successive generations. The Clare family were both long-lasting and prolific, and, because of the numerous changes in the landed position of various members of the family, it is possible to see how closely in the eleventh and twelfth centuries the acquisition of new territories and the endowment of monasteries went together. Moreover, we are able to trace the changing preferences for different monastic orders and, to some extent, the reasons for this, and, in addition, to see this in the context not only of Normandy and England, but of Wales and Ireland as well. Whereas in the eleventh and early twelfth century, the Clares' gifts passed to Benedictine houses, many of them Norman or with Norman connections, they became more interested later in the new orders of the Augustinian canons and Cistercians which were spreading rapidly over Europe. At the same time they made grants to the military orders of the Hospitallers and Templars which, by giving knights the opportunity to combine fighting with a monastic life, fused two ideals of the twelfth-century world. In contrast to the variety and amount of these monastic benefactions, the Clares were content in the thirteenth century to make only the occasional grant, but they were insistent on maintaining their rights of patronage. In addition, their interest turned to the new orders of friars. There is, however, no indication here of continuous family interest from one generation to the next as would have been the case in the early twelfth century.


1985 ◽  
Vol 36 (2) ◽  
pp. 175-195 ◽  
Author(s):  
A.J. Forey

At the time when encyclopaedic works on the military orders began to be produced in the late sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, it was widely held that the military order was an institution which had existed for most of the Christian era. Many of the orders catalogued in these volumes were reported to have been founded well before the period of the crusades, although there were often conflicting opinions about the precise antiquity of a particular foundation. Various dates were, for example, given for the establishment of the military order which the knights of the Holy Sepulchre were thought to constitute: although some held that it had been founded shortly after the first crusade, its creation was attributed by others to St James the Less in the first century A.D., while its origins were also placed in the time of Constantine and in that of Charlemagne. The foundation of the order of Santiago, which in fact occurred in 1170, was often traced back to the ninth century; yet while some linked it with the supposed discovery of the body of St James during the reign of Alfonso 11, others associated it with the legendary victory of Clavijo, which was placed in the time of Ramiro i. The accumulation of myth and tradition recorded in these encyclopaedias has exercised a prolonged influence on historians of the military orders: disproof has not always been sufficient to silence a persistent tradition. It is, nevertheless, clear that the Christian military order, in the sense of an institution whose members combined a military with a religious way of life, in fact originated during the earlier part of the twelfth century in the Holy Land.


Sign in / Sign up

Export Citation Format

Share Document