Warfare and the Byzantine Army

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HOW TO FORGE AN EMPIRE: ARMS PRODUCTION IN THE MIDDLE BYZANTINE PERIOD

A Thesis Submitted to the Committee on Graduate Studies in Partial Fulfillment for the Degree of Master of Arts in the Faculty of Arts and Science

TRENT UNIVERSITY Peterborough, Ontario, Canada (c) Copyright by Jordan Matthew Dills 2017 Anthropology M.A. Graduate Program January 2018 Abstract

HOW TO FORGE AN EMPIRE: ARMS PRODUCTION IN THE MIDDLE BYZANTINE PERIOD

Jordan Matthew Dills

The goal of this thesis is to explore the production of ferrous (iron) armaments in the Middle Byzantine Empire, and more specifically the tenth century. Three cornerstones define the current research: (1) An exploration of the technology at use in the production of ferrous armaments. (2) A comprehensive look at the logistical and organizational structures which facilitated this industry. (3) A closer look at the labour investments required to manufacture armaments through an ethnographic and experimental approach. The tenth century document known as the De Cerimoniis forms a foundational pillar of the current study. The document details the quantity and types of military equipment required for a naval expedition launched by the Byzantines in A.D. 949. The information provided within has made this inquiry into logistics possible, and has allowed for the assessment of overall trends in the tenth century arms production industry.

Keywords: Byzantine, metallurgy, weapons, armour, armor, production, logistics.

ii Acknowledgments

I would first like to acknowledge my supervisor Dr. Hugh Elton whose guidance

was instrumental not only in the success of this thesis but in my growth as both a re-

searcher and writer. The constancy with which he challenged my thinking throughout the

two-year project was a catalyst for personal development. The flexibility which he af-

forded me in the formulation and execution of my research was greatly appreciated and

contributed to the passion that I brought to this project. I would also like to thank my

committee members Dr. Rodney Fitzsimons and Dr. Lisa Janz for their participation in

my research. In addition I would like to thank the Bagnani Trust for providing funding

during my first year at Trent.

A thanks must be extended to Darrell Markewitz, Dr. Timothy Dawson, Robb

Martin, and Dr. David Sim for their participation in the research process. The information

they provided and their continued correspondence long after the interviews was critical in

the formulation of this thesis. Robb Martin graciously allowed me access to his forge and

workshop and for this I am deeply appreciative

The success of this thesis hinged on the support of my family and friends. Without

the support of Mark, Sharon, Brendan, Candace, Josh, Daimon, Leo, Pat, and Chloe, this

would not have been possible. I would be remiss to not mention the stimulating environ-

ment provided by those members of the Anthropology Graduate Program whom I have had the privilege of getting to know.

Last of all I would like to thank Allie whose strength and guidance has been a pillar in my life for the last six years. Your encouragement and belief in my goals have been a driving force in writing this thesis. In my absence over the past two years your continued support in my pursuit of scholarship has been deeply appreciated. iii Table of Contents Abstract...... ii Acknowledgments...... iii Table of Contents...... iv List of Illustrations...... vii List of Tables and Charts...... ix Glossary...... x

Chapter 1: Introduction...... 1 1.1) Introduction...... 1 1.2) Historical Sources...... 4 1.2a) Constantine VII and the De Cerimoniis...... 4 1.2b) Military treatises...... 11 1.2c) Judicial Literature...... 14 1.3) The Evolution of Administration in the Byzantine Empire...... 15 1.3a) The Development of the Thematic System...... 18 1.4) The Rise of the Tagmata...... 20 1.5) Political and Geographic Regions of the Near East and Mediterranean...... 22 1.5a) The Anatolian and Iranian Plateaux...... 24 1.5b) The Balkan Peninsula...... 27 1.5c) The Eurasian Steppes and the Deserts of Syria and Arabia...... 28 1.5d) The Agricultural Plains...... 28 1.5e) The Mediterranean...... 30 1.5f) Crete...... 31 1.6) Conclusions...... 33

Chapter 2: Warfare and the Byzantine Army...... 35 2.1) Introduction...... 35 2.2) Romano-Persian and Romano-Arab Warfare...... 36 2.3) Arab Presence in the Eastern Mediterranean...... 38 2.3a) Abū Ḥafṣ and the Andalusian Exiles...... 38 2.3b) The Byzantine Offensive...... 42 2.4) Considerations on Evidence for Byzantine Arms...... 46 2.4a) Artistic Evidence of Arms...... 47 2.4b) Historical Evidence of Arms...... 49 2.4c) Archaeological Remains of Arms...... 51 2.5) The Byzantine Panoply...... 52 2.5a)Composition of the Byzantine Army...... 52 2.5b) Non-Disposable Offensive Arms...... 54 2.5b i) The Spear...... 54 2.5b ii) The Sword...... 56 2.5b iii) The Axe...... 59 2.5b iv) The Mace...... 61 2.5b v) The Bow...... 62 2.5b vi) The Sling...... 63 2.5c) Disposable Offensive Arms...... 63 2.5c i) The Javelin...... 64 2.5c ii) Arrows ...... 64 2.5c iii) Caltrops...... 65 2.5d) Defensive Equipment...... 66 2.5d i) Headgear...... 66 iv 2.5d ii) Body Armour...... 69 2.5d iii) Limb Armour...... 71 2.5d iv) Shields...... 73 2.6) Conclusions...... 74

Chapter 3: Byzantine Metallurgical Technology...... 75 3.1) Introduction...... 75 3.1a) Iron and its Alloys...... 75 3.2) Extractive Ferrous Metallurgy...... 76 3.2a) Smelting...... 77 3.2b) The Furnace...... 78 3.2c) Charcoal and Ore...... 79 3.2d) Bloom, Billet, and Bar Processing...... 81 3.3) Iron Microstructure...... 82 3.3a) Hardness and Toughness...... 83 3.3b) Wrought Iron...... 85 3.3c) Low-carbon Steel...... 86 3.3d) High-carbon Steel...... 86 3.3e) Cast-Iron...... 88 3.3f) Quenching and Forge Welding...... 89 3.4) Forging the Black Metal...... 91 3.4a) Tools of the Trade...... 91 3.4b) The Use of a Striker ...... 93 3.5) Traditions in Byzantine Metallurgy...... 94 3.5a) Developments in Smelting Technologies...... 95 3.5b) Developments in Forging Technologies...... 100 3.6) Conclusions...... 105

Chapter 4: The Logistics and Administration of Arms Production...... 107 4.1) Introduction...... 107 4.2) Judicial Literature...... 107 4.2a) Codex Theodosianus...... 107 4.2b) Corpus Juris Civilis...... 108 4.2c) Byzantine Law...... 109 4.3) Mining in the Empire...... 111 4.3a) Byzantine Mining in Asia Minor...... 112 4.3b) Byzantine Mining in the Balkans...... 114 4.3c) Transportation of Iron...... 115 4.4) Woodland Exploitation in the Empire...... 116 4.4a) The Administration of Charcoal Production...... 116 4.4b) Production and Transport of Charcoal...... 118 4.5) The Development of Arms Production Systems...... 119 4.5a) The Late Roman Fabricae...... 119 4.5b) Fabricae of the Sixth Century and Beyond...... 124 4.5c) Methods of Production...... 127 4.6) Conclusions...... 129

Chapter 5: A Modern Approach...... 131 5.1) Introduction...... 131 5.2) The Cargo of the 949 Expedition...... 132 5.3) The Interviews...... 134 5.3a) Darrel Markewitz...... 138 5.3b) Timothy Dawson...... 139 v 5.3c) Robb Martin...... 140 5.3d) David Sim...... 141 5.4) Considerations for Arms Production...... 142 5.4a) Division of Labour and the Three-Stage Process...... 142 5.4b) Strikers, Jigs, and Templates...... 145 5.5) Results and Analysis...... 146 5.4a) Table 4...... 147 5.4b) Tables 5 and 6...... 151 5.4c) The 911 Expedition...... 155 5.4d) Table 7...... 159 5.6) Conclusions...... 159

Chapter 6: Conclusions...... 161 6.1) Introduction...... 161 6.2) Byzantine Metallurgical Technology...... 161 6.2a) Smelting Technology...... 161 6.2b) Forging Technology...... 163 6.3) Labour Investments and Administrative Systems...... 164 6.3a) Methods of Transportation...... 165 6.3b) Thematic Production Capabilities...... 167 6.4) Points of Improvement and Future Research...... 168 6.5) Final Conclusions...... 170

Appendix...... 172 Appendix to Chapter 2...... 172 Byzantine Artillery...... 172 The Byzantine Navy...... 173 Appendix to Chapter 5...... 175 The Experiment...... 175

Bibliography...... 181 Primary Sources...... 181 Secondary Sources...... 183

vi List of Illustrations

Figure 1: The Byzantine world in the tenth and eleventh centuries. Talbot and Sullivan 2005:225

Figure 2: Asia Minor. Haldon 1999:58-59.

Figure 3: The Balkan peninsula. Haldon 1999:55.

Figure 4: Meteorological and oceanographic conditions in the Mediterannean. Pryor 1988:14.

Figure 5: The remarkably well preserved YK 11 dating to the seventh century. Pulak et al 2015:49.

Figure 6: 12th century depiction of Abū Ḥafṣ’ forces sailing to Crete. Biblioteca Nacional de España: Bib- lioteca Digital Hispánica.

Figure 7: 12th century depiction of the Cretan Arabs surpising the sleeping Byzantine army. Biblioteca Nacional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica.

Figure 8: 11th century Byzantine steatite carving of St. George the “warrior saint” showing details of lamellar armour, tubular leg guards, and a tear-drop shield. Dawson 2007a:44.

Figure 9: Reconstruction hoplites of the tenth century. This particular warrior wears a klibanion over a quilted kremasmata, a riveted spangenhelm with an attached mail coif, splinted iron arm- and leg-guards and leather boots. By his left side hangs a paramerion and in his right hand a single-edged battle axe known as a tzikourion. Dawson 2007a:33.

Figure 10: Several of the spear and javelin heads found on the Serçe Limanı shipwreck. Schwarzer 2004:364.

Figure 11: Sword discovered at Mikulčice. Jiří and Jiří 2006:203.

Figure 12: 12th century depictions of curved swords, possibly parameria.Biblioteca Nacional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica.

Figure 13: 12th century depiction of the a blade a spike axe. Biblioteca Nacional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica.

Figure 14: 12th century depiction of the Varangian Guard wielding crescent shaped axes. Biblioteca Na- cional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica.

Figure 15: 10th-11th century six-flanged iron sidiroravdion (possibly cast). D’Amato 2012:45.

Figure 16: 12th century depiction of a cavalry soldier wielding a sidiroravdion. Biblioteca Nacional de Es- paña: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica.

Figure 17: 12th century depiction of the Hunnic patterned bow and a variation on the Roman ridge-helmet. Biblioteca Nacional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica.

Figure 18: Mid- to Late-Byzantine heavy diamond bodkin arrowhead. Waldbaum 1983: Plate 5.82

Figure 19: Roman iron caltrop discovered at Walthamstow. The British Museum. vii Figure 20: Early Byzantine spangenhelm discovered at Novae. Biernacki 2012: 97.

Figure 21: 12th century depiction of a single-piece conical iron helmets. Biblioteca Nacional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica.

Figure 22: Detail of lamellar construction. Dawson 2007a:20.

Figure 23: Seventh century splinted iron greaves discovered at Valsgärde in Sweden. Arwidsson 1954: Plate 7.

Figure 24: Mechanisms of a shaft furnace. Sim 2012:38.

Figure 25: Two billets discovered at Newstead. National Museums Scotland.

Figure 26: Sword discovered at Mikulčice. Jiří and Jiří 2006:203.

Figure 27: Reproduction pattern-welded sword. The British Museum.

Figure 28: Ivory casket panel depicting Adam and Eve working a forge from the 10th-11th century. Constructed in Constantinople. Metropolitan Museum of Art

Figure 29: Hephaestus and three strikers forge Achilles’ shield. Sim 2012:46.

Figure 30: Reconstructed Roman furnace based on discoveries at Laxton. Crew 1998.

Figure 31: Cross section of one furnace discovered at Gamzigrad – Romuliana. Živić 2009:200.

Figure 32: Ivory carving depicted Adam and Eve working a forge from the 10th-11th century. Made in Constantinople. Cleveland Museum of Art.

Figure 33: Wooden trolley from Bulancak used to transport ore. Pitarakis 1998:163

Figure 34: The locations of fabricae. James 1988:327.

Figure 35: The integration of the iron artefact industry. Sim 2012:19.

Figure 36: Route from Larissa to Constantinople by ox-cart. Generated through: http://orbis.stanford.edu

Figure 37: Route from Larissa to Constantinople by ship. Generated through: http://orbis.stanford.edu

Figure 38: Byzantine traction trebuchet. Biblioteca Nacional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica.

Figure 39: Reconstruction of a Byzantine dromon through the reign of the Macedonian emperors. Pryor 2006:205.

Figure 40: Reconstruction eleventh century Byzantine spathion. Personal collection.

viii List of Tables and Charts Tables

Table 1: Non-disposable offensive equipment listed in the chapter 45 of the De Cerimoniis.

Table 2: Disposable offensive equipment listed in the chapter 45 of the De Cerimoniis.

Table 3: Defensive equipment listed in the chapter 45 of the De Cerimoniis.

Table 4: Figures given for the production of equipment by the interviewees. Those indicated as to complete, refer to those in which a figure is given for the entire process rather than only object fabrication.

Table 5: Range and averages of the figures provided by the interviewees. Column four multiplies these averages by the individual number of equipment recorded in the De Cerimoniis. A figure for the total number of hours invested is represented in the final row.

Table 6: Based on the average production time (in minutes) the required time for completion of the recorded equipment is estimated. This is based on a 10 hour work day.

Table 7: Average production time of imperial armouries and thematic workshops.

Charts

Chart 1: Concurrent labour hours over a 35 hours period for the production of a gladius based on Sim (2012:94).

ix Glossary

Abbasid - one of the four caliphates established after the death of Muhammad by his uncle Abbas ibn Abd al-Muttalib. For most of their history their capital was at Baghdad. The Abbasid’s eventually succeeded the Umayyads. akontistes (ἀκοντιστής) - light infantry soldier of the Byzantine army in the tenth century. allagion (ἀλλάγιον) - a cavalry regiment, similar to a bandon. archon tou armamentou (ἄρχον τοῦ ἀρμαμέντου)- the official who commanded the armamenton. armamenton (ἀρμαμέντον) - a sub-department of the eidikon largely in charge of arms production. atriklines (ἀτρικλίνης) - an official who carried out the duty of receiving ministers, officials, and dignitaries at ceremonial banquets. ballistra - general term referring to a tension powered arrow-throwing siege machine. bandon (βάνδον) - a thematic tactical unit from within the topoteresiai with no specific standard in the number or types of soldiers (thematic from 50-150, imperial from 320- 400).

BCC lattice - a crystalline structure, the state of iron at room temperature. bloom - spongy conglomerated mass of ferrous and non-ferrous material produced through bloomery smelting. carburization - the process in which carbon is absorbed into iron through heating in the presence of a carbonaceous material. cementite - an iron carbide alloy which forms during slow cooling of austenite or ferrite structures which precipitates uncombined carbon. cheiromanikα(χειρoμάνικα) - a generalized term used to refer to arm-guards. cheiropsella zygai (χειρόψελλα ζυγαὶ) - a generalized term used to refer to arm-guards. chevaux-de-frise - a portable frame of wooden or iron spikes which defended against cavalry.

x cuts - a tool used to cut hot metal. decarburization - the process in which carbon is removed from cast iron or steel through diffusion of carbon atoms and the

demesmen - ceremonial leaders of various factions within the Byzantine Empire.

deputati - armourers attached to a military unit in the sixth century. distralion (διστραλίον) - a somewhat generalized term, possibly refers a battle-axe with a blade on one end and spike on the other.

domestikos (δομέστικος) - a generalized term for a range of command positions. In the context of this thesis domestikos of the scholai refers to a commander of one of the four tagmatic regiments.

dromon (δρόμων) - a general term used to designate a Byzantine warship.

droungarios of the fleet (δρουγγάριος) - a high-ranking naval commander of the Con- stantinopolitan fleet.

droungos (δρούγγος) - a group of banda without geographical association which was commanded by a droungarios.

eidikon (εἰδικόν) - a bureau of the Byzantine state, largely in charge of arms production through its sub-departments the armamenton and lower armamenton.

epilorika (ἐπιλώρικα) - a cloth surcoat worn over the armour, possibly to distinguish be-

tween units.

fabricenses - workers of the late Roman fabricae, these could be free-men or slaves.

FCC lattice - a crystalline structure, the state of iron above its lower critical temperature (710ºC) but below its upper critical temperature (1350ºC).

ferrite - a BCC crystalline structure which gives iron its magnetic properties (α-iron).

ferrous - a term which designates a material partly or wholly comprised of iron.

flatters - tool either shafted or non-shafted used to flatten metal.

flux - a material used to prevent oxidation during the forge-welding process.

forge-welding - the process of fusing two metals together through heating and hammering with the use of flux. xi fūlādh - an Arabic term which describes crucible steel produced through the combination of wrought and white cast-iron in a crucible. fullers - tool used to set a “fuller” or semicircular depression into the metal, used in sword-making. galeai (γαλέαι) - small Byzantine skirmishing naval vessel. genikon (γενικόν) - a department of the Byzantine state, in charge of taxation. glans - a leaden sling-bullet. They could be biconical like an almond, lemon, or American football. Conversely they could be ellipsoidal and shaped like an acorn. gladius - short-sword of the Roman Republic and Principate, the blades of which (excluding the tang) range in size from 40-55 centimetres in length. hoplites (ὁπλίτης) - standard Byzantine heavy infantry soldier of the tenth century. hypereutectoid steel - in carbon steel this refers to a higher percentage of carbon (more than 0.8%) than can be combined into pearlite, the uncombined carbon forms cementite. hypoeutectoid steel - in carbon steel this refers to a lower percentage of carbon (less than 0.8%) than can be combined into pearlite, the small remaining carbon forms ferrite structures. kavadion (καβάδιον) - a thickly padded form of quilted armour worn by infantry in the tenth century. kasidion (κασίδιον) - general term for used to describe a metal helmet. kataphraktos (κατάφρακτος) - heavy cavalry soldier exclusive to tagmatic units.

katepano (kατεπάνω) - a military commander, or title which refers to a commander of some other office (i.e. lower armoury). kamelaukia (καμελαύκια) - term which designates a felt cap, usually held in place by a wrapped turban. kleisourai (κλεισούραι) - specialized detachments of thematic armies who were tasked with controlling mountain passes. kletorologion (kλητορολόγιον) - list of precedence used by the atriklines when announc- ing guests at imperial banquets. klivanion (κλιβάνιον) - lamellar corselet. xii koiton (kοιτῶν) - the imperial bed chamber and private treasury. kontarion (kοντάριον) - term used to refer to a standard spear. kremasmata (κρεμάσματα) - a quilted skirt which hung below the soldiers body armour to protect his legs. laisa (λαῖσα) - a hastily constructed mobile defensive structure used to in siege warfare to protect the besieging armies. lamellar - used to describe a suit of armour made by attaching individual lames together with a continuous cordage. lames - individual plates of lamellar armour, can be made of metal, horn, bone or leather. litra (λίτρα) - a Byzantine unit of weight measurement, approximately 320 grams in the tenth century. logothetes of the dromou (λογοθέτης τοῦ δρόμου) - the Byzantine official in charge of imperial couriers. logothetes of the genikou (λογοθέτης τοῦ γενικοῦ) - the Byzantine official in charge of taxation. lorica hamata - a Latin term used to describe a mail coat. lorikia (λωρίkια) - primarily refers to a mail coat though can also refer to a scale shirt. magister militum - “Master of the Soldiers,” a high ranking military official in the late Roman Empire. magister officiorum - “Master of the Offices,” a senior government official, in charge of the fabricae in the late Roman Empire. magistros (μάγιστρος) - used on its own it usually refers to the magister officiorum. manikellion (μανικέλλιον) - refers to arm-guards of quilted and mail construction or else oar-sleeves. martensite - structure formed in iron-carbon alloys which is formed upon rapidly cooling to avoid the transformation from austenite to pearlite. menavlatos (μεναυλάτος) - a heavy infantry soldier tasked with defending against cavalry charges with his sturdy spear known as a menavlion.

xiii menavlion (μεναύλιον) - a sturdy spear used by the menavlatoi to defend against cavalry charges.

militia - in the context of this thesis militia refers to government recognized military service,

narmāhan - an Arabic term which describes wrought iron below a carbon content of 0.4%. nomisma (νόμισμα) - a gold coin, denomination of 72 nomismata to a litra.

ore - a type of rock with sufficient metal or mineral presence to be extracted.

orguia (οὐργυιά) - a Byzantine unit of measurement (“fathom”) unlikely to have been completely standardized but generally assumed to designate a distance of approximately 156.2-210.8 centimetres.

ousiakon chelandion (ούσιαkoν χελανδίων) - monoreme warship with a smaller crew than the pamphyloi.

pamphyloi (πἀμφυλοι) - likely refers to a chelandia which was been fitted with more elite soldiers.

paramerion (παραμήριον) - an obscure term possibly a single- or double-edged curved or straight sword, usually slung from the waist.

patrikios (πατρικίος) - an honorific title, later used as a title given to a military leader possibly commanding 10,000 soldiers. pearlite - in steel or cast iron a lamination of cementite and ferrite structures formed upon cooling austenite. pekhus (πῆχῠς) - a Byzantine unit of measurement (“cubit”) which could refer to a length of 31.2 to 62.46 centimetres.

pelekion (πελεkίον) - a generalized term which may refer to a double-bladed battle-axe. podopsella (ποδόψελλα) - term used to refer to leg-guards. praepositus - the official in charge of an individual late Roman fabrica, or in other contexts a military commander. praetorian prefect - by the late Roman period a high-ranking administrative official. primicerius fabricae - foreman under the charge of a praepositus in a late Roman fabrica. xiv prokoursator (προκουρσάτωρ) - light cavalry soldier of the tenth century, highly mobile and used for harassing and flanking.

protospatharios (προτοσπαθαρίος) - “first sword-bearer” a court title given to distinguished individuals or else purchased.

punch - a tool used to punch holes in metal.

qabâ - Persian style of body armour adopted by the Byzantines, see kavadion.

quillons - the crossguard of a sword.

riktarion (ῥικτἀριον) - a socketed javelin used by both infantry and cavalry.

Rus (῾Ρῶς) - refers to warriors of Russo-Scandinavian descent used as mercenaries in the Byzantine army.

sagitas (σαγίτας) - a loanword from Latin which describes an arrow. scrinium fabricarum- department of fabricae administration both supply and production as well as legal support for fabricenses. set - a hammer used to set in shoulders to a piece of metal.

skoutarion (σκουτάριον) - shield of either round, oval or tear-drop shape.

shāburqān - an Arabic term which designates a very high-carbon steel or cast iron.

sidiroravdion (σιδηροράβδιον) - an iron mace.

slag - a waste product comprised of both ferrous and non-ferrous material produced through smelting or forging. spangenhelm - a style of helmet constructed of modular riveted components generally assumed to be adopted by the Roman from trans-Danubian groups.

spatha - a Roman sword hung from a baldric, longer than a gladius. spatharios (σπαθάριος) - “sword-bearer” initially had some function as a body-guard but developed into a ceremonial court title. spathion (σπαθίον) - double-edged long-sword of the Byzantine army similar to the spatha, usually worn on a baldric (but could also be belt-hung).

xv sphenthovolon (σφενδοβόλον) - term which refers to the sling, made of leather or braided fibre (or a combination of both) used to cast stones, baked clay bullets, or lead glandes. sphenthovolistes (σφενδοβολιστής) - a soldier whose primary weapon was the sling. spithame (σπιθαμή) - a Byzantine unit of measurement (“span”) not entirely standardized and could refer to a distance of 15.6 to 23.4 centimetres. strategos (στρατηγὸς) - by the eighth century the military and civil commander of the themes. strateia (στρατεία) - a form of hereditary military service instituted by emperor Nikephoros I. stratiotes (στρατιώτης) - term refers to both a soldier as well as one who is subject to strateia, hereditary military service. subadiuva fabricarum - official in charge of the fabricae within a diocese. swage - generalized term which refers to a block of steel or cast iron used similar to an anvil to manipulate the metal in specific ways, usually with square, round or rectangular holes. tagma (τάγμα) - an elite regiment in the Byzantine army which gained prominence during the eighth century. taxiarchia (ταξιάρχης) - a tactical structure comprised of 1000 soldiers. thema (θέμα) - originally refered to re-deployed field armies, by the tenth century refers

to the provinces of the Empire.

topoteresiai (τοποτηρεσιαἰ) - a fiscal administrative unit within a tourma.

tourma (τοῦρμα) - a civil and military thematic sub-division. tourmarkon (τουρμάρχων) - the civil and military commander of a tourma. toxareas (τοξαρέας) - a bow. toxotai (τοξόται) - refers to archers in the Byzantine army. trebuchet - siege device which utilizes a pivoting arm to throw large projectiles.

xvi trivolion (τριβόλιον) - an iron caltrop with four sharp tines deployed as an anti-personnel weapon.

tuyère - a clay or ceramic tube used inserted into the side of a furnace or forge to accommodate forced draughts of air.

tzikourion (τζικούριον) - a generalized term derived from the Latin securis which may refer to a single-bladed battle-axe.

Umayyad - one of the four caliphates established after the death of Muhammad by Muawiya ibn Abi Sufyan, their eventual capital would be Cordova.

vestiarion (βεστιαρίον) - public treasury for coinage and equipment used to outfit an ex- peditionary fleet.

Vickers Pyramid Hardness (VPH) - a system which measures the hardness of objects.

Wootz - a complex and poorly understood process of making crucible steel often attributed to India. work-hardening - a method of hardening iron or steel through repeated cold hammering.

xvii Chapter 1: Introduction

1.1) Introduction

With this thesis I set out with the goal of answering three questions: (1) What

were the techniques and technologies used by Byzantine metallurgists in the manufacture

of military equipment? (2) What were the administrative systems in place which facili-

tated the arms production industry for the Byzantine Empire in the tenth century? (3)

What were the labour investments of forging ferrous (iron) arms for a middle Byzantine

army in preparation for a military expedition in the tenth century?

The term “Byzantine” is one created by scholars in the sixteenth century to distin-

guish between the later periods of the Eastern Roman Empire from earlier periods in its

history. It should be stressed that the Byzantine Empire was a continuation of the Roman

Empire; the partition between Roman and Byzantine is largely arbitrary, hinging on the

decline of the late Roman Empire from a Mediterranean superpower to a regional state in

the mid-seventh century and the subsequent internal structural and political changes

which accompanied this tumultuous period. To remain consistent, the time between A.D.

324 until the mid-seventh century will be refered to as “late Roman” and anything be-

yond the mid-seventh century as “Byzantine.”

It should be noted that the Greek terms found within the current thesis are translit-

erated rather than translated. Military literature is full of technical terms and loanwords,

often making it difficult to discern their meaning.

To begin exploring my research questions it was necessary to approach them from

a number of angles. Tackling my first research question (see Chapter 3) required a syn- 1 thesis of archaeological, historical, and artistic evidence of metallurgical technologies

from within the Byzantine world as well as from the mosaic of cultures which influenced

it. A comprehensive evaluation of Roman, Avar, and Arab metallurgical traditions – when

corroborated with the Byzantine evidence – has allowed me to begin to explore the tech-

niques and technologies possessed by Byzantine metallurgists. I chose to focus specifi-

cally on the production of iron armaments, as the production of those made from bronze,

leather, bone, wood or other such materials would have entailed different construction

methods. This would have meant sacrificing a thorough exploration of iron armament

production in favour of a broader scope, which was not the intention of the current re-

search.

In order to approach my second research question (see Chapters 4 and 5) it was

essential to conduct an examination of a wide variety of ancient literature from broad

chronological, cultural, and geographic ranges. Information preserved in texts such as the

De Cerimoniis, the Taktika of Leo VI, the Praecepta Militaria, the Kletorologion of

Philotheos, the Codex Theodosianus, and the Corpus Juris Civilis all coalesce to form a

foundational pillar of this thesis. Chapters 44 and 45 of the De Cerimoniis in particular

are central to addressing my research questions. The unique information preserved in this

text comprises soldier counts, ship counts, and lists of the enormous quantity of equip-

ment required for several military expeditions in the early to mid-tenth century, including

specific numbers of weapons and armour. One passage outlining some of the equipment

reads: “70 lamellar corselets, 12 mail shirts for the steersmen and siphon-operators and leading oars men, 10 other standard mail shirts, 80 helmets, 10 helmets with face-guards, 8 pairs of arm-guards, 100 swords, 70 stitched shields, 30 Lydian shields, 80 trident-spears, 20 sickle-bladed lances, 100 heavy spears, 100 javelins, 50 Roman bows with double strings, 20 platforms with hand-spanned bow- 2 ballistae with silken strings, 10,000 arrows, 200 ‘flies’ (bolts), 10,000 caltrops, 4 grapnels with chains, 50 surcoats, 50 (felt) caps” (DC(a) 669.13-19).

The information recorded in the De Cerimoniis has made my inquiry into logistical operations possible. The equipment amassed for the expedition launched in A.D. 949 to the island of Crete is especially well recorded and will constitute the primary case study of this thesis.

In addition to historical sources, archaeological material has played a crucial role in the current study. Particularly useful are preserved examples of military equipment and sites with metallurgical contexts which relate to middle Byzantine arms manufacture, whether that be mining, smelting, or forging. To corroborate the information provided by archaeological material, the prolific artistic renditions of military equipment during the middle Byzantine period have also been examined.

To approach my third research question (Chapter 5) concerning labour investments in arms manufacture the choice was made to integrate the expertise and experience of modern blacksmiths through a series of interviews with four artisans. After receiving

Ethics Board approval, I began to produce a range of questions for the interviewees geared towards developing a series of estimates which would represent the labour hours required for the production of a select group of ferrous Byzantine equipment expressed in seconds, minutes, and hours. Some of this equipment is explicitly recorded in the De Cer- imoniis and others in the military treatises (see infra). This method makes the assumption that these tasks would run concurrent to the primary manufacture of equipment by a skilled smith. The intention was to exclude from the time frames the tasks which required minimal skill as a smith so as to better illustrate the elapsed time of the overall process. 3 The figures provided through the interviews would form the basis for transitioning from

the micro-scale, the production of equipment by individual craftspeople, to the macro-

scale, the administration of arms production on a state-level for the expedition to Crete in

949. Bringing together the specific numbers of armaments recorded in the De Cerimoniis

with the figures provided through the interviews – using simple calculations – it was

possible to produce an estimate of the labour required for producing a portion of the large

quantities of ferrous arms recorded in the cargo of the 949 expedition. The numbers pro-

duced from these calculations have allowed for initial steps to be taken in assessing the

number of artisans required for the production of military equipment on a large scale, the

labour capacity of thematic and imperial workshops, and the logistical considerations in-

volved in transporting military equipment. To supplement the information provided by

the interviews, and inform my understanding of arms production stages and techniques, a

series of experiments was also conducted. My practical understanding of weapon and ar-

mour manufacture was greatly enhanced by these experiments. To support future re-

search, such experiments will require more precisely controlled circumstances and

increased rigour. As a result, these appear mostly as anecdotal evidence in the present

work.

1.2) Historical Sources

1.2a) Constantine VII and the De Cerimoniis

Constantine VII was the fourth ruling emperor of the so called “Macedonian Dy-

nasty” after his grandfather Basil I (867-886) – the founder of the dynasty– his father Leo 4 VI (867-912), and the brief reign of Alexander III (912-913). Constantine VII, otherwise known as Porphyrogennetos (purple-born, attesting to the legitimacy of his rule), was

crowned in 913 and began his rule which was marked by co-regency. At the age of four-

teen Constantine was married to Helena, the daughter of important naval commander Ro-

manos I Lekapenos. Romanos I, an Armenian who served in the Byzantine navy during

the reign of both Basil I and Leo VI, used the marriage as leverage to crown himself and

his three sons as co-emperors to Constantine. Constantine was only able to reassume his

position as the sole legitimate emperor in 945 after an internal struggle in the Lekapenos

family which saw the exile of Romanos I by two of his sons, Stephen and Constantine.

When Stephen and Constantine threatened the position of Constantine VII a revolt broke

out in Constantinople which saw them both stripped of their imperial position. The son of

Constantine VII and Helena, Romanos II, who had been born in 939, was appointed co-

emperor to the throne along with his father in 945. Romanos II succeeded Constantine

VII as the sole emperor when his father died in 959.

The legacy of Constantine VII is characterized by his interest in scholarly pur-

suits. He was particularly involved in the compilation of both contemporary and past lit-

erature which he believed was in danger of being lost through neglect and fragmentation

(Moffatt and Tall 2012: xxiii). He believed in the teaching of practical wisdom so that fu-

ture rulers might learn from the mistakes of the past (DAI 1-12). His scholarship is char-

acterized by five “books”: De Administrando Imperio, Theophanes Continuatus,

Constantinian Excerpts, De Thematibus and De Cerimoniis.

De Administrando Imperio (On the Governance of the Empire), surviving in mul-

tiple manuscripts, was compiled between the years of 948-952. Constantine dedicated the 5 text to his son Romanos II in hopes that he might learn to be a wise sovereign. Its con-

tents consider both past and present affairs of governance with regards to the various cul-

tural groups with which the Byzantines had relations, namely the Scythians (and

Northerners), Armenians, and Saracens (Arabs). The text is separated into four sections:

foreign policy, diplomacy, historical and geographical surveys, and internal history, poli-

tics and organization (Moravcsik and Jenkins 1967:11). Preserved within the text is an ac-

count of the Arab conquest of Crete which will feature prominently in Chapter 2.

Theophanes Continuatus refers to a tenth century corpus of imperial biographies

from the years 813–961, the majority of which originated under the reign of Constantine

VII. It survives in a single medieval manuscript housed in the Vatican (cod. Vat. gr. 167).

The Latin name of the text refers to the continuator of a series of biographies begun by

Byzantine chronicler Theophanes the Confessor. The annals of Theophanes Continuatus

resume after the reign of Michael I (813), where Theophanes had ended his chronicle.

Part one details the rule of emperors Leo V (813-820), Michael II (820-829), Theophilos

(829-842), and Michael III (842-867). Part two is devoted to Basil I (867-886), and part

three the reigns of Leo VI (886-912), Alexander (912-913), Constantine VII (913-920),

and Romanos I (920-944), Constantine VII again (944-959), and Romanos I (959-963).

The text ends abruptly mid-sentence with the capture of Crete in 961 by Nikephoros

Phokas (Ševcenko 2011:3).

The so called Constantinian Excerpts is a compilation of historical works from

twenty-six authors dating from the fifth century B.C. to the A.D. ninth century. The text

survives in one manuscript known as Codex Peirescianus located in Tours (Németh

2010:1-4). The historians chosen for the excerpts seem to reflect an interest in imperial 6 propaganda. The author was particularly interested in the time from Justinian I (527-565)

to Heraklios (610-641) (Németh 2010:38-39). The contents of the histories vary widely

from hagiographical works, geographies and ethnologies, and works of military affairs to

activities such as leisure hunting.

De Thematibus (On The Themes) is a text which deals with the development of

the themes, their borders, and their cities though it is plagued with inconsistencies and in-

complete information, possibly a reflection of the sources used in its composition (see

infra). Its earliest redaction was produced by Constantine VII sometime between the

years of 934-944, though likely re-edited towards the end of his reign or perhaps even af-

terwards (Németh 2010:51-52).

De Cerimoniis Aulae Byzantinae, abbreviated as De Cerimoniis (Book of Cere-

monies, a Latinized name given to the text by its first editor J. H. Leich in the mid-eigh-

teenth century), is the most pertinent of Constantine’s works for the purposes of this

thesis. The text of the De Cerimoniis is compiled in two books, both of which are intro-

duced and prefaced by Constantine VII. It is clear that he played some role in both the

collection and composition of the material which comprises the text, but his degree of in-

volvement is unclear (Moffatt and Tall 2012: xxiii). His motivations for the creation of

the De Cerimoniis – to preserve as many sources as possible regarding both ancestral

and present court ceremonial practices – are given in its preface (DC(b) R3-5; 6,1-2).

The manuscript which is housed in the University Library of Leipzig, is the only

surviving manuscript which is mostly complete and legible. The Leipzig manuscript was

produced during the reign of emperor Nikephoros II Phokas (963-969) following the

death of Constantine VII. Two other manuscripts – the Cod. Chalcensis S Trinitatis (123) 7 133 and the Vatopedi 1003 housed in Istanbul and the Vatopedi Monastery at Mount

Athos respectively – are only partially legible (Moffatt and Tall 2012: xxiv).

Book 1 of the De Cerimoniis, subtitled, A compilation and work truly worthy of

imperial zeal, is comprised of 97 chapters. Chapters 1 to 83 deal primarily with court pro-

cedures, including the imperial processions from the Hagia Sophia, the protocols in-

volved for the emperor’s attendance at important feasts and chariot races, and the

reception by the emperor of the demesmen (Moffatt and Tall 2012: xxv). Chapters 84 to

95 consist of the protocols involved in the appointment of officials and accounts of the

procedures involved in the proclamation of five emperors from Leo I to Justinian I. Chap-

ters 96 and 97 are concerned with the ascension of Nikephoros II Phokas to the throne in

963. Three short texts which comprise the first 21 folios of the Leipzig manuscript were

added by J.J. Reiske as an appendix to Book 1 of the De Cerimoniis (hereafter Three Im-

perial Treatises). Modern understanding of the relationship between the Three Imperial

Treatises and the De Cerimoniis was certainly influenced by Reiske’s choice to append

them at the end of Book I, but whether or not they belonged here is debatable. Haldon

(1990) nominates the three texts as A, B, and C. Text A briefly discusses various stan-

dardized rally-points across the empire for the congregation of thematic forces in advance

of a campaign (Haldon 1990:81). Text B represents a copy of an older text written by the

magistros Leo Katakylas (writing during the time of Leo VI) which explains the system-

atic tasks of the emperor when commencing a military campaign, which included con-

sulting the relevant experts on matters of topography and geography in the campaigning

region (mountains, the size and accessibility of roads and rivers) (Haldon 1990:83-93).

Text C expands upon the content presented in Text B. It was at least partially written by 8 Constantine VII and dedicated to his son Romanos II. The treatise presents a com-

pendium of standardized operating procedures and ceremonies to be executed in different

circumstances (Haldon 1990:94-149). Of primary interest for the elucidation of logistical

operations is the information given on the tasks appointed to several departments of the

state when provisioning the emperor while on campaign.

Book 2 of the De Cerimoniis is comprised of 56 chapters. These cover diverse

topics from the protocols for the first cutting of the emperor’s son’s hair, to the burial lo-

cations and tomb descriptions of emperors beginning with Constantine the Great. Of pri-

mary import to the current study are chapters 44 and 45. These two chapters provide a

detailed account of the preparatory and administrative affairs for three Byzantine military

expeditions: to Syria in 911, to Italy in 934, and to Crete in 949 (Haldon 2000:241-242).

The chapters form a collection of five separate documents; Haldon (2000:243-258) labels

these documents 1, 2, 3, 4a and 4b. Document 1 deals with the expedition to Syria, 2 and

3 the expedition to Italy, and 4a and b the expedition to Crete.

The information preserved in these documents includes pay schemes for imperial

troops, soldier and ship tallies, and most pertinent to the current study, lists of the equip-

ment required for both the 911 and 949 expeditions. Also included amongst the lists of

equipment are some references to the quantity and location of armament requisitions ad-

ministered by the state to thematic officials: “Note that the strategos of Thessaloniki un-

dertook to produce 200,000 arrows and 3000 menavlia, and as many shields as could be

managed” (DC(a) 657.11-12).

Several different departments of the Byzantine state are explicitly mentioned

throughout De Cerimoniis as being responsible for overseeing the organization of mili- 9 tary resources: the eidikon, vestiarion, koiton, armamenton and the protonotarios. The ei-

dikon oversaw the acquisition of raw materials such as charcoal, iron, copper, tin, and

lead. The armamenton, a sub-department of the eidikon, was primarily responsible for the

production and distribution of arms and armour. The koiton seems to have been primarily

charged with the distribution of high-quality garments used as gifts for foreign dignitaries

and deserters, as well as high-ranking military officials. The vestiarion was the depart-

ment responsible for the storage of military equipment and coinage. The protonotarioi,

situated in the themes, were responsible for raising food and equipment provisions to sup-

port the army while on the march. Chapters 44 and 45 highlight the redistributive nature

of the departmental organization system in which provisions are conscripted from crafts-

people in the themes (Haldon 2000:288-294). The ability of the Byzantine state to acquire

military equipment and other resources from thematic workshops would have played di-

rectly into the speed at which the preparations for an expedition could be completed. The

details of such an arrangement are shrouded in ambiguity and will be explored in further

detail in Chapters 4 and 5.

Another important inclusion in Constantine’s great compilation which serves to

better substantiate our understanding of state administration is the so called Kletorologion

of Philotheos (Lists of Precedence), embedded within the De Cerimoniis as Chapters 52

and 53. The kletorologia were used by the official known as the atriklines who carried

out the duty of receiving ministers, officials, and dignitaries at ceremonial banquets

(KlPh in DC(b) R726, Oikonomidés 1972, Bury 1911:12). They allowed the atriklines to

attribute the appropriate precedence upon the correct individuals. Philotheos’ kletorolo-

gion was completed in 899, and survives in multiple manuscripts. Like Constantine,

Philotheos sought to preserve information which had become obscured through time. 10 He based his kletorologion upon existing lists, updating them with new positions and re-

organizing the hierarchy of officials as precedence changed (KlPh in DC(b) R704). Part

one of his work, prefaced by Philotheos as Concerning imperial ranks, sheds light on the

imperial hierarchy, though it does not provide information on the duties and roles of the

officials (as this was not the function of the document). The potential of the Kletorolo-

gion of Philotheos was realized by Bury (1911), who traced the origins of the listed of-

fices back through the historical record in order to elucidate the duties and functions of

the officials.

The De Cerimoniis, and in particular the Three Imperial Treatises, as well as

chapters 44, 45, 52 and 53 of Book 2, have been instrumental to completing the current

study. The unequivocal detail of the text as a whole provides a window into the affairs of

the middle Byzantine state unique in the historical record. The desire of Constantine VII

to preserve what he believed were forgotten texts and his subsequent “authorship” of the

De Cerimoniis have provided the information which has been essential in the exploration

of state administration and military logistics.

1.2b) Military treatises

Military science, which featured prominently in late Roman literature, saw a revi-

talization in the tenth century. Interest in military science is evidenced by the growing

number of military treatises through this period. Three treatises in particular have proved

essential for the current research: the Taktika of Leo VI, the anonymous treatise Sylloge

Tacticorum and the Praecepta Militaria of Nikephoros Phokas. Several other treatises

fulfill minor roles including On Skirmishing Warfare attributed to Nikephoros Phokas and 11 the Taktika of Nikephoros Ouranos.

The composition of Leo VI’s Taktika in the late ninth and early tenth centuries

was instrumental in the revitalization of military science which saw the composition of a

diverse collection of military treatises (Haldon 2014:21). His interest in military matters

and “authorship” of his Taktika were undoubtedly influenced, in part, by the threat posed

by the Arab Caliphate (Haldon 2014:22). Leo’s Taktika discusses diverse topics such as

generalship, strategems, arms and equipment, training and drilling, as well as siege and

naval warfare. The Sylloge Tacticorum, an anonymous tenth century military treatise

written sometime between the composition of Leo’s Taktika and the Praecepta Militaria,

provides useful information on the dimensions and morphology of various weaponry

used by the Byzantine army in the tenth century. It is also the first text which refers to the

“hollow square” as the standard battle formation for infantry and cavalry (McGeer

1988:137). Though clearly influenced by Leo’s Taktika, both the Sylloge Tacticorum, and

the Praecepta Militaria focus on slightly different information. The Praecepta militaria,

composed by emperor Nikephoros Phokas in the mid-tenth century, is concerned with the

tactics and equipment of the Byzantine infantry and cavalry, the procedures involved with

constructing an encampment in enemy territory, and the use of spies. The author of the

Praecepta had clearly studied the Sylloge, modelling several sections on the older text.

Particularly relevant to the current study are the technical details regarding equipment

construction preserved in the treatises: “Short tunics reaching to the knees are to be re-

quired, made of cotton or coarse silk. Their sleeves have to be short and broad with slits

up to the shoulder joints so they can put their arms through easily and comfortably fight...

They must have short caps of felt to be fastened over their heads with bands of cloth, and 12 certainly swords girded at the waist, axes or iron maces, so that one man fights with one

weapon, the next with another, according to the skill of each one” (PM I:24-27).

The Taktika of Nikephoros Ouranos, a successful military commander, was com-

posed in the late-tenth century. It provides a revised and updated version of Praecepta

Militaria, including notable developments in infantry tactics (McGeer 1991). A new addi-

tion to Ouranos’ Taktika are the procedures of offensive incursion into Arab controlled re-

gions as a means of defending Byzantine imperial territory through disruptive raids.

Ouranos also includes first hand experience of siege warfare tactics including the descrip-

tions of the laisai, a hastily constructed mobile defensive structure used to protect be-

siegers in lieu of a “tortoise,” a tactic which also appears in a contemporary treatise on

siege warfare known as the Parangelmata Poliorcetica (2.1-5). The tenth century work

entitled On Skirmishing Warfare, attributed to Nikephoros Phokas, helps to illuminate the

development of tactics in response to Arab incursions in Anatolia. It details the style of

guerilla fighting used to defend Anatolia which the Byzantines had adopted in favour of

open battle.

The practicality of such documents in instructing and evaluating military affairs

has been called into question by various scholars. McGeer (2008:171) rightly points out

that many of the treatises were composed by individuals with little military experience.

Leo VI in particular, whose foundational work Taktika sparked the revitalization in mili-

tary treatises through the tenth century, was absent from the battlefield throughout his

reign. Conversely, it lends credence to their reliability that several treatises were com-

posed by soldiers with first-hand experience in battle; this can be said of both Praecepta

Militaria and the Taktika of Nikephoros Ouranos (McGeer 2008:194-195). Nevertheless, 13 the treatises do not fully account for or acknowledge the logistical challenges of equip-

ping large armies with standardized equipment (see Chapter 2). These are significant con-

siderations for military officials which are not considered in great detail. It is therefore

important to recognize that the treatises, though useful, do have limitations. Still, these

texts record a substantial body of information pertinent to the current study. First and

foremost is their preservation of technical details regarding Byzantine military equipment

including their dimensions and construction techniques (McGeer 2008, Dawson 2007b,

Dawson 1998). With such a breadth of historical literature being produced in the tenth

century detailing the intricacies of the Byzantine panoply, we are afforded significant in-

sight into the construction and use of Byzantine weapons and armour. This was a neces-

sary piece of information in order to produce meaningful analysis of the labour

investments associated with the production of armaments in the tenth century, especially

so because archaeological examples of Byzantine armaments are strikingly limited.

1.2c) Judicial Literature

Law codes provide an opportunity to explore some of the administrative struc-

tures put in place by the state in order to regulate the many constituents of the arms pro-

duction industry. The state held a vested interest in the production and distribution of

arms as they were integral to the survival of the Empire (both to resist foreign incursion

but also to maintain internal power and limit the capabilities of would-be rebels). The

compilation of judicial works by emperors Theodosius II (408-450) and Justinian I (527-

565) preserve a significant body of information which allow us to observe facets of the

late Roman state that are otherwise invisible. This includes day-to-day matters which are 14 often neglected in other historical literature. Of particular interest for this study are the

records of laws and decrees relating to mining, arboreal resource exploitation, and arms

manufacture. Though codified law may be useful as a heuristic tool, its relationship to

normative law must be taken into consideration as does the degree to which codified law

was adhered to by the both the state and population. This was addressed by Brunt (1975)

in regards to Justinian’s Novel 85, which suggests heavy regulations on weapon owner-

ship and manufacture. Though presented as codified law it is unlikely that the state was

involved in widespread confiscation of armaments across its provinces as suggested in

the Novel. Therefore, though these codices are certainly a tool to be used, we must be

cognizant of their limitations. The large body of late Roman law and particularly that of

Justinian remained relevant into the Byzantine period through the Basilika, a Greek

redaction produced under the reign of Leo VI. Judicial literature will be examined in fur-

ther detail in Chapter 4.

1.3) The Evolution of Administration in the Byzantine Empire

The Byzantine state was structured as a hierarchy of administrative levels and im-

perial offices at the top of which was the divinely ordained emperor. The role of the em-

peror was dynamic but always maintained an important political, civic, military and

religious function. In the tenth century, the duties of the state were distributed amongst

the imperial court, a term which loosely refers to the collection of administrative offices.

These included officials which oversaw the collection and regulation of taxes

(logothetes of the genikon), the administration of imperial couriers (logothetes of the dro-

mou), and the governance and command of thematic armies (strategoi). In addition to of- 15 fices, a series of titles could be purchased or bestowed upon wealthy individuals or those

with high status (Bury 1911:21). Titles provided a salary as well as recognition in the

Byzantine political sphere (e.g. spatharioi, whose chief was the protospatharios) (Whit-

tow 1996:111).

One thing which becomes abundantly clear when studying the Byzantine empire

is that its social, economic, administrative, and military systems were closely interwoven

and evolved as an integrative whole. The power and authority of the Byzantine state to

control its essential resources was conditional upon its capacity to monopolize coercive

force. Furthermore, its ability to manage resource exploitation was tied directly to its mil-

itary success (in the case of arms production, mineral and arboreal resources) (Haldon

1999:10). The degree to which the state exercised control over its fiscal and natural re-

sources seems to fluctuate through its development, though it always maintained a nomi-

nal control over its resources. Through the seventh and eighth centuries state control over

its resources was rigid; this shifted through the ninth to eleventh centuries and state con-

trol waned as it was forced to recognize a rising social-political elite (Haldon 1999:11).

This inconsistency was caused by fluctuating distribution of power amongst – on one

hand – a strong central governing authority controlled by the emperor and – on the

other – an independent political elite (especially through the provinces). The evolution of

a social-political elite independent from central authority had resounding effects on the

structure of the rural peasantry, and the institutions of agricultural production. Evidence

for the peasantry through the eighth to the twelfth centuries suggests that it was arranged

around two primary institutions, the estate and the village. The village is generally de-

fined as a collection of peasant smallholdings where land-owners worked the fields. In 16 contrast, the estate constituted a large agricultural property owned by the state, church,

or – through the ninth to eleventh centuries – a wealthy socio-political elite (Lefort

2002:236-237). There is a clear distinction between the paroikoi – peasant farmers work-

ing on large estates – and village land owners. The tenth and eleventh centuries seem to

be marked by a general trend of increasing paroikoi in contrast to small household pro-

duction.

Our understanding of the Byzantine rural economy suffers from a lack of source

material – both historical and archaeological – with which to build a substantial and

reasoned framework. Conflicting and diverse opinions exist on various aspects of the

Byzantine economy including the productivity of its diverse sectors, the degree of articu-

lation in economic mechanisms and monetary circulation, and to what extent these fac-

tors served the state or the overall economy (Laiou 2002:4-5). What can be said is that the

rural peasantry constituted the backbone of the empire and its resource producing popula-

tion. A system of taxation – which, depending on the circumstances, could be paid in both

coinage and kind – was the fuel which facilitated state operations including the payment

of imperial salaries, funding of military campaigns, and payment for its soldiery. Hendy

(1985:157) posits that military expenditure constituted the single greatest portion of the

imperial budget, highlighting the role that the military played in the encumbrance of the

producing population. Leo VI’s espousal of agricultural production and the maintenance

of imperial armies as the keys to which the Empire owed its endurance, demonstrates

their integration, “For there are two occupations that We consider most necessary to the

stability and permanence of the nation: agriculture, which supports and increases the sol-

diers; and military service, which maintains and protects the farmers. And We consider 17 these two occupations to take precedence over all others” (Taktika 6.2). It also serves to illustrate the relative size and importance of the agricultural industry when compared to trade and crafts (Hendy 1985:158). As emperor Leo VI, was responsible for maintaining a balance between agricultural resources and military expenditure; his position and duties placed him in a unique space, making his comments on these industries especially relevant.

1.3a) The Development of the Thematic System

The reverberating effects of warfare on society and economy made it a powerful stimulus for social and political change, one which was instrumental in the evolution from the late Roman to the Byzantine Empire. In the seventh century the Byzantine Em- pire underwent a number of radical organizational changes from the late Roman provincial model. These changes were not introduced through the sweeping legislation of a single emperor, but emerged through gradual modification sparked by a series of spectac- ular defeats at the hands of the Arabs beginning in the seventh century. The Byzantine field armies were forced to withdraw from the frontier regions in Syria, Mesopotamia,

Armenia and Thrace to focus their defensive efforts on Asia Minor (Haldon 1999:73,

Whittow 1996:120). These re-deployed field armies were originally known as themata

(‘themes’), each of which was responsible for the defense of a large region in Asia Minor

(Haldon 1999:77). The four original themes established in the seventh century were the

Anatolikon, Armeniakon, Thrakesion and Opsikion. The Anatolikon theme was formed in south-central Asia Minor from imperial soldiers stationed in Syria and Mesopotamia. The

Armeniakon theme comprised of soldiers withdrawn from across the Euphrates in Arme- 18 nia and placed in north-eastern Asia Minor. The Thrakesion theme was brought from

Thrace into western Asia Minor, and the Opsikion theme was formed from the remnants

of the praesental field army (those charged with protection of the emperor) and imperial

guard regiments in north-western Asia Minor near the capital (Haldon 1999:73, Whittow

1996:165).

In the eighth century “themes” came to represent the provinces in which the the-

matic armies were stationed; military administration in the themes – now referring to the

regions – was fused with civil administration and became militarized provinces (Whittow

1996:171). Strategoi, previously the generals of the theme armies, took over civic control

from the anthypatoi (civil administrators) and became the de facto commanders of the

themes (with the exception of the Opsikion, which was governed by a komes) (Whittow

1996:171). The strategoi were subordinate only to the emperor himself. The adoption of

the thematic system brought with it sweeping administrative changes which can only be

haphazardly observed through historical record. Several prominent offices were alto-

gether dropped (e.g. Praetorian Prefecture) (Bury 1911:19-20). A general increase in the

number of administrators carried with it restrictions in their competence. The duties and

functions of a number of important officials (Master of Offices, Count of the Sacred

Largesses, and the Count of the Private Estate) were split apart and distributed amongst

an increased number of offices (Bury 1911:20). In the tenth century, for example, the

strategoi were tasked with managing the production of arms in the themes (though other

officials are also mentioned: krites and archon) (DC(a) 657.11-14). Under the reign of

emperors Leo III (717-741) and Constantine V (741-775) the number of themes ex-

panded; new themes were added with the reconquest of imperial territory south in the 19 Balkans, and existing themata were broken into smaller regions (Haldon 1999:84).

By the time of Leo VI (886–912) and the composition of his Taktika it is clear that each thema were partitioned into smaller districts known as tourmai – a term which referred to both the geographical region as well as the soldiery within; each tourma was commanded by a tourmarches, both a civil and military commander (Haldon 2014:92).

The tourmai were further sub-divided into fiscal administrative districts known as topoteresiai from which a tactical unit of infantry known as a bandon (or allagion for cavalry) were drawn. There appears to have been no uniformity in the composition and size of a bandon, and thematic banda could range from 50 to 150 soldiers (Haldon

2014:92-96). The banda could be reorganized into both larger or smaller tactical structures by the field commander. Imperial banda, likely consisting of full-time professional soldiers in the themata, could range anywhere from 300-400 soldiers. The term droungos refers to a separate tactical structure made up of several banda, though without any geographical association like the tourmai; each droungos was commanded by a droungarios.

1.4) The Rise of the Tagmata

In the mid-eighth century, an important development occurred in the tactical structure of the imperial armies. Constantine V partitioned the powerful thematic army known as the Opsikion into three divisions: the Opsikion, the Boukellarioi and the Opti- mates. The Opsikion division – further sub-divided into the imperial guard regiments the

Scholai and the Exkoubitores – was the emperor’s elite body guard. With the rise of these elite regiments, the so-called tagmata, the thematic armies began to lose prominence

(Haldon 1999:79, Whittow 1996:173). By the mid-tenth century the tagmata consisted of 20 four elite regiments: the Scholai, Exkoubitores, Vigla and Hikanatoi (McGeer 2008:199).

With the exception of the Vigla – who were commanded by a droungarios – the tagma were commanded by a domestikos, the domestikos of the scholai being second in command only to the emperor (though this was position was split amongst two officials by

Romanos II, the domestikos of the East and the domestikos of the West) (McGeer

2008:199). In some sense tagmata also referred to the Noumeroi and Teichistai, two infantry regiments totalling approximately 4000 soldiers who were garrisoned in Constan- tinople (D’Amato 2012:24). Sometime during the reign of emperor Romanos II the tagmatic units were deployed from their customary position in close proximity to the capital to the frontier regions of the empire, regions which had traditionally been occupied by thematic armies.

In the early ninth century (possibly A.D. 809-810) in response to a lack of recruit- ment for the thematic armies, likely partially a product of the increasing wage-gap between thematic and tagmatic soldiers, emperor Nikephoros I responded by implementing strateia – mandatory hereditary military service (Whittow 1996:174). The stratiotai

(“soldiers,” used here to refer to those subject to strateia) were obligated to serve as soldiers in the imperial armies or, if not fit to campaign, sponsor a recruit who was able, closely binding individual and familial fiscal resources with military roles. Thematic recruits were forced to purchase their own personal military equipment either with their salary (roga) or an advanced payment from the state (procheron) for newly mobilized soldiers (Haldon 2000:131,303, Whittow 1996:174). This drew a sharp divide between the wealthy and poor in the thematic armies; those with the resources to afford a horse became cavalrymen, leaving the poorest recruits to fulfill the role of infantry. As a result, 21 by the early ninth century, it is clear that cavalry had gained prominence over infantry as

the primary fighting force of the themes (Haldon 2014:97). In the tenth century, some-

time between 944 and 959, Constantine VII reformed the law of Nikephoros I and tied

military service to land ownership. Individuals required to serve in the imperial armies

were assigned the provision of a plot of land worth four litrai in gold, the equivalent of

288 nomismata. Two situations arose from these provisions: (1) communities living on

the assigned land supported the purchase of military equipment for the recruit, and (2) the

recruit was assigned land and forced to hire farmers to cultivate it (McGeer 2008:198).

By the mid-tenth century the Byzantine state became more willing to substitute strateia

for a monetary sum (Whittow 1996:174-175). Thematic recruits continued to serve in the

army, but by the mid-tenth century, two centuries after Constantine V had created the first

tagmata, there was a substantial differential between the thematic and tagmatic armies

(DC(a) 667.11-16, DC(a) 668.1-19, DC(a) 669.1-12).

1.5) Political and Geographic Regions of the Near East and Mediter- ranean

The geography of the Near East is roughly defined by several macro-scale envi-

ronmental and political regions. Whittow (1996:15) defines these as the plateaux of Ana-

tolia and Iran, the Balkan Peninsula, the Steppes, the deserts of Arabia and Syria, and the

Agricultural Plains. To these, the Mediterranean and its islands must also be added. The

seat of the Byzantine Empire was Constantinople. It was located in modern day Turkey

on the Bosphorus, at the easternmost point of the Balkan Peninsula, and west of the Ana-

tolian plateau. Constantinople – as a result of its position – was highly defensible. Eight-

hundred and fifty kilometres lay between Constantinople and the platform for Arab 22 Talbot and Sullivan 2005:225 Talbot Figure 1: The Byzantine world in the tenth and eleventh centuries. Figure 1:

23 assaults in Cilicia. This posed a number of logistical considerations for assaults on the

city. The city itself was surrounded by three sets of imposing walls (including a sea-wall)

which largely contributed to their perseverance against the Avars of the steppes. The area

between the walls of emperors Constantine and Theodosios II would prove to be a useful

asset in the defense of the city. This enclosed space was never fully urbanized and served

as a production centre for agricultural goods during times of siege (Whittow 1996:101).

Assaulting the city by sea brought its own challenges. The formidable winds of the east-

ern Mediterranean favoured southward travel from Constantinople and made northward

travel difficult – though this could certainly be overcome (Pryor 1988:89). The sea-wall

protected against naval assaults and the use of a proto-flame-thrower on Byzantine war-

ships meant that most attacks were quickly stifled (Haldon 2006).

Woven throughout the Near East was a large network of Roman roads originally

constructed from the first century B.C. to the second century A.D. which made for effi-

cient movement of goods and troops. The majority of Roman roads fell into disrepair by

the sixth century and only minor attempts at revitalization were undertaken (Haldon

1999:51-52). However, several major arterial military roads emanating from Constantino-

ple and branching throughout Asia Minor were kept serviceable into the tenth century and

onwards, allowing for the relatively quick movement of troops and goods along these

major highways (Haldon 1999:56).

1.5a) The Anatolian and Iranian Plateaux

From the high mountainous volcanic regions of Armenia stem a number of great

mountain chains which demarcate the geography of the Anatolian and Iranian plateaux.

The climate of the plateaux is characterized by hot dry summers and cold bitter winters,

making movement through these regions in the winter months difficult (Whittow 24 Figure 2: Asia Minor. Haldon 1999:58-59. 25 Figure 3: The Balkan peninsula. Haldon 1999:55.

26 1996:25-30). In the west the Hakkāri, Anti-Taurus, and Taurus chains define the southern border of the Anatolian plateau (eventually running parallel to the Mediterranean), and to the east the Zagros mountains delineate the Iranian plateau. The Anatolian plateau is bound on its northern border by the Caucasus and Pontic mountains, beyond which lies the Steppes. To the south-east the Taurus mountain chain separates the plateau from the

Cilician plane. The so-called Cilician Gates provided the only major pass through the

Taurus Mountains. The Arab city of Tarsos was located approximately 50 kilometres south of the Cilician Gates (Figure 1). Tarsos, along with Mopsuestia and Adana, became the platform for Arab raiding against the Byzantines in the east (On Skirmishing Warfare

170, 180, 200, 220, Garrood 2008:129). Travel from east to west (or vice versa) within the plateaux was generally easier than travel from north to south, a result of the east-west mountain belts.

1.5b) The Balkan Peninsula

The Balkan Peninsula (Figure 2) consists of the lands bordered in the north by the

Danube and Sava rivers, and on the east by the Black Sea. West of the Balkans lies modern day Serbia, and to the south modern day Greece. On its far eastern extremity lies

Constantinople. The Balkan geography is characterized by mountainous terrain interwoven by large rivers. Several arterial roads run through the Balkan Peninsula including the Via Egnatia extending from Thessaloniki to Constantinople. Though minor agricultural regions are found throughout the peninsula its capacity for sustaining a large Empire was limited. The agricultural space available within the empire correlates directly to the quantity of surplus production. This must be considered in the context of Arab conquest and the loss of significant agricultural regions beginning in the seventh century. The endurance of the Empire beyond the seventh century is interesting when considering the 27 loss of its most agriculturally productive provinces (Whittow 1996:15-19).

1.5c) The Eurasian Steppes and the Deserts of Syria and Arabia

Both the steppes and the deserts of Syria and Arabia played important roles in the

development of the Byzantine Empire, a result of the nomadic groups which rose from

these regions. The Steppes consist of vast grasslands spanning from central Asia to the

Hungarian plain north of the Balkans. The steppes are bordered by several mountain

chains: the Alps in the west, and the Carpathians on the northern and eastern edges. Out

of the Steppes rose a number of powerful nomad states including the Huns and Avars,

both of which exerted significant influence on military tactics and equipment adopted by

the Romans and Byzantines. The steppes too experience hot dry summers and cold dry

winters.

Like the Eurasian steppes, the deserts of Syria and Arabia supported nomadic

tribes who were united under Prophet Muhammad in the seventh century. Muhammad’s

forces swiftly conquered large swaths of Roman territory through the seventh century.

The caliphs who succeeded Muhammad would continue to threaten the Byzantine Empire

for most of its existence.

1.5d) The Agricultural Plains

There are a number of fertile agricultural regions dispersed throughout the

Mediterranean and Near East. Productive regions in Asia Minor consisted of, in the west, facing the Aegean Sea, the Hermos, the Kayster, and the Maeander alluvial valleys.

Along the south-east coast, the plains of Pamphylia and Cilicia, and in the north a strip of fertile land along the Pontic coast. In the Balkans, surrounded by the Sea of Marmara. the plains of eastern Thrace and Bithynia provided fertile land for agriculture.

28 Crete

Figure 4: Meteorological and oceanographic conditions in the Mediterannean. Pryor 1988:14.

29 The most important region is the so-called Fertile Crescent, which spans a crescent shaped area from Upper Egypt through Palestine, Lebanon, Syria, and Iraq to the

Persian Gulf. These regions, though diverse in geography, share the similarity of high degrees of agricultural productivity in contrast to the surrounding arid deserts. In large portions of Palestine, Syria, Transjordan and Upper Mesopotamia irrigation is necessary as average rainfall per annum is below 200 millimetres; harnessing the Nile, Tigris and Eu- phrates meant that agricultural productivity in both Egypt and Lower Mesopotamia was high (Whittow 1996:31).

1.5e) The Mediterranean

Tying many of these regions together was the Mediterranean Sea (Figure 4). The

Mediterranean Sea provided a highway for the empire to transport significant quantities of agricultural goods from their source of production to the heart of the empire in Con- stantinople. The Mediterranean also facilitated trade, naval warfare, and troop and equipment transportation. Up until the sixteenth century A.D., sailing in the Mediterranean was heavily dependent on meteorological and oceanographic conditions. Northwesterly prevailing winds across the entire Mediterranean Sea allowed ships to sail from north to south and west to east with relative ease, but made northward and westward travel difficult (Pryor 1988:89). In the eastern Mediterranean basin, northward travel was further exacerbated by the meltemi, a persistent northerly wind which blows in the summer months.

The primary navigable current of the Mediterranean flows eastward in from the

Atlantic through the Gibraltar Strait and encircles virtually the entire Mediterranean coast

(Pryor 1988:14). It was utilized by ancient mariners to help alleviate the difficulties of travelling north and west into the prevailing winds and meltemi (Pryor 1988:14). For the

Byzantines, October to April was the primary sailing season; winter voyages were under- 30 taken but at much higher risk (Pryor 1988:88-89).

1.5f) Crete

The islands of the Mediterranean played important roles in the economy, politics,

and warfare of the Byzantine Empire. Crete – the target of the 949 expedition launched

by Constantine VII against the Arabs – saw a century and a half of attempts to recapture

the island, demonstrating its significance to the Byzantines. From Crete, exploiting the

northerly winds allowed for efficient travel to Egypt from which currents could be picked

up and travelled counter-clockwise along the Mediterranean coast. One tendril of the cur-

rent which flows west from the southern coast of Asia Minor sweeps directly past Crete

and provides a consistent route back to the island; in addition, northerly winds facilitate

travel to the island from the north. Through the Byzantine period this would have been

especially significant for travel from Constantinople. Crete was thus well situated to take

advantage of both the winds and currents of eastern Mediterranean for maritime travel. It

was also well located for shipping and trade amongst the European, African, and Near

Eastern coasts.

Another notable feature of Crete was its abundance of natural resources. Of par-

ticular importance were its arboreal resources, including cypress, prickly-oak, holm-oak,

juniper, and pine (Rackham and Moody 1996:58-73). Some indication for the extraction

of arboreal resources on the island related to Byzantine activity can be traced through the

pollen record; cores extracted from a peat-bog located in the White Mountains of Crete

suggest an overall decrease in the presence of deciduous oak from the sixth century on-

wards. The same cores indicate that in the late Byzantine Period (the dates of which are

unclearly stated by Rackham and Moody) a trend of decreasing tree pollen can be ob-

served in the sample cores, suggesting clear cutting for which the purpose is unclear 31 (Rackham and Moody 1996:131-132). Taken on its own, this evidence is circumstantial

for explaining exploitation of woodland resources on the island, but in light of the 37 re-

cently discovered Byzantine shipwrecks (fifth-eleventh centuries) at Yenikapı in modern

day Istanbul, some interesting comparisons can be made.

Pine (Pinus brutia) is native to the eastern Mediterranean with the majority of

concentration in southeastern Turkey and the Aegean islands. It is also found in dense

concentrations in the

White, Lassithi and

Siteia Mountains on

Crete. Pinus brutia

was important for use

as construction tim-

ber in both architec-

tural features and

naval vessels (Rack- Figure 5: The remarkably well preserved YK 11 dating to the seventh century. Pulak et al 2015:49. ham and Moody 1996:63). Theophrastus, a Greek philosopher writing in the fourth and

third centuries B.C. (c. 371-287 B.C.), makes particular note of pine’s usefulness in the

construction of hull planking (History of Plants, 5.7.1–3). The seventh century AD

Byzantine shipwreck YK 11 (Figure 5), discovered in 2006, was in fact predominantly

constructed of Pinus brutia (Pulak et al 2015:49). Pine pitch, a substance created through

carbonizing pinewood in the absence of oxygen, was commonly used in antiquity as

caulking for ship construction. This technique appears in the Byzantine shipwreck YK 14

dating from the ninth to tenth centuries (Pulak et al 2015:54). In addition to Pinus brutia,

the stringers of YK 11 were constructed of cypress (Cupressus sempervirens) also found

in dense concentrations in the White Mountains of Crete (Rackham and Moody 1996:60- 32 63). Though both Pinus brutia and Cupressus sempervirens are found elsewhere in the

Mediterranean the quantity and density of concentration on Crete may have provided unique opportunities for exploitation. YK 11 and YK 14 demonstrate, at the very least, awareness by the Byzantines of the possible applications of Pinus brutia and Cupressus sempervirens, and perhaps helps to explain the importance of Crete to the Byzantines and their extensive efforts to recapture the island from the Arabs.

1.6) Conclusions

The goals of this chapter have been three-fold: First, to establish an introduction

to the aims and methods of the current thesis and the research questions at its heart: (1)

What were the techniques and technologies used by Byzantine metallurgists in the manu-

facture of military equipment? (2) What were the administrative systems in place which

facilitated the arms production industry for the Byzantine Empire in the tenth century?

(3) What were the labour investments of forging ferrous arms for a middle Byzantine

army in preparation for a military expedition in the tenth century?

Second, to provide a comprehensive introduction to the historical literature exam-

ined in this thesis, and in particular the De Cerimoniis. The nature of historical evidence

allows us to examine logistics in ways not possible through the archaeological record.

Taken as a whole, the De Cerimoniis is unrivaled in the size and scope of its composition

for the middle Byzantine period. A number of other historical sources have contributed to

the success of the current study. The military treatises, and in particular Leo VI’s Taktika, the Sylloge Tacticorum, and the Praecepta Militaria, have been instrumental in formulat- ing an understanding of the dimensions, materials, and morphology of Byzantine equipment utilized in the tenth century, an essential component of exploring labour investments. 33 Third, to provide an introduction to the Byzantine Empire. The Byzantine world was a complex network of social, economic, administrative and military systems, which developed and operated as an integrative whole. As such it is difficult to address them in- dividually without acknowledging the reverberating effects that each system had on the others. The next chapter will encompass an overview of Romano-Persian and Romano-

Arab warfare which stimulated the development of the thematic system. In addition a comprehensive analysis of Byzantine military equipment and construction methods will be discussed.

34 Chapter 2: Warfare and the Byzantine Army

2.1) Introduction

Warfare in the Eastern Roman Empire was a powerful catalyst for change across

social, economic, political, and military sectors. The stimulus for these changes arguably

began in the sixth century, which was pocked with warfare between the Roman and Per-

sian Empires. A century of warfare with the Persians, though eventually successful in de-

feating them, exhausted the resources of the Byzantine Empire and left it vulnerable to

conquest by Muhammad’s forces. Warfare with the Arabs and the subsequent loss of im-

perial territory was a direct impetus for many of the changes in the structure of the empire

beyond the sixth century, such as the development of the thematic system. Beginning in

the seventh century, the Arabs took to the Mediterranean and consistently threatened

Byzantine control of the sea, its islands, and coasts. This led to the eventual conquest of

Crete by the Arabs in the ninth century. The context of the Romano-Persian and Romano-

Arab wars, as well as the Arab presence in the Mediterranean will be further explored in

this chapter, the goal of which is to provide context for the 949 campaign launched by the

Byzantines to the island of Crete. This expedition will constitute a case-study for the ex-

ploration of labour investments in manufacturing ferrous military armaments. In addition,

this chapter will provide a detailed examination of the artistic, historical, and archaeologi-

cal evidence with which we can reconstruct the morphology and structure of the Byzan-

tine panoply in the tenth century (used in this context to refer to a complete set of

armaments). This will form the basis for which to explore labour investments in Chapters

5. 35 2.2) Romano-Persian and Romano-Arab Wars

In the late-sixth century, towards the end of emperor Justinian’s (527-565) reign,

the late Roman empire was prosperous (Haldon 1999:48). Imperial control extended to

parts of Italy, southern Spain, large swathes of North Africa, the Levant, Egypt, the

Balkan Peninsula, and Asia Minor. Over the course of the next 70 years as a result of Ro-

mano-Persian and Romano-Arab wars, the late Roman Empire degraded from a Near

Eastern superpower to a regional state limited to Asia Minor and the Balkans (Haldon

1999:48-50). Throughout the sixth and early seventh century, the Romans were at con-

stant warfare with both the Sasanian Empire of Persia and nomadic Avars of the steppe

regions. The Persians, allied with the Avars, attempted to sack Constantinople in 626

under the reign of emperor Herakleios (610-641). The siege was an utter failure for both

the Avar and Persian forces who did not have the naval capacity to challenge the imperial

naval fleets equipped with Greek Fire (Whittow 1996:79). The Romans seized the oppor-

tunity and the emperor Herakleios renewed campaigns in the east, successfully recover-

ing territory lost to the Persians. The Roman army pushed into Persian Iraq and defeated

their army in 627 in a decisive battle at Nineveh, forcing the Persian Empire to relinquish

the eastern provinces. Though ultimately victorious, the resources of the Byzantine Em-

pire were exhausted (Whittow 1996:81).

In the years following the defeat of the Persians, the Byzantine Empire would be

afforded no opportunities to recover. In c. 630 nomadic Arab tribes of the desert regions

of Saudi Arabia were united by the Prophet Muhammad (Whittow 1996:86). The first

wave of Arab conquests began in the mid-seventh century and the forces of Muhammad

were swift to conquer the eastern provinces from a resource exhausted Byzantine Empire. 36 Primary agricultural regions which supported the Byzantine Empire – Egypt, Transjor-

dan, Syria, Palestine, Mesopotamia and to a lesser extent Cilicia – were conquered by the

unified Arab forces under their leader after 640 (Haldon 1999:47). Byzantine imperial

armies were withdrawn from the frontier regions and consolidated in Asia Minor where

they would protect the empire in depth as the newly organized thematic armies. By the

mid-seventh century as much as three quarters of state income had been lost when com-

pared to c. 600 (Haldon 1999:51, Whittow 1996:91).

Three cornerstones came to characterize Byzantine strategy on the Eastern fron-

tier. The first was to turn away enemy forces by occupying passes and choke-points

which led into imperial territory. The second, to harass and shadow enemy forces from a

series of garrisoned fortresses located on major roads and passes. The third, developed in

the late eighth and ninth centuries, was an amalgamation of these strategies which mani-

fest in the creation of kleisourai, specialized detachments of thematic armies who were

tasked with controlling mountain passes and harassing enemy forces using guerilla tactics

(Haldon 2014:106-107). It was through these three systems that the Byzantine frontier

was stabilized after the initial onslaught of Arab conquests through the seventh century

which culminated in several failed attempts at besieging Constantinople (668-669). The

eighth and ninth centuries on the Eastern frontier were characterized by constant raiding

and counter-raiding, focused primarily in Asia Minor. Cilicia served as the primary plat-

form from which Arab raiding into imperial territory was conducted (Garrood 2008:129).

It was not until the victories of the Phokas family from 959-965 that Cilicia would be oc-

cupied by the Byzantines and the threat of the Cilician emirs neutralized.

37 2.3) Arab Presence in the Mediterranean

2.3a) Abū Ḥafṣ and the Andalusian Exiles

The Iberian Peninsula, comprised of modern day Spain and Portugal, which was conquered as a part of the second wave of Arab expansion beginning in the eighth century, saw the Caliphate at its greatest western extent. In the early eighth century, the Iber- ian Peninsula was ruled by the Visigothic Kingdom which had succeeded the Roman

Empire in Iberia. In 711 the Visigothic King Witiza died, naming his son Akhila the successor to the throne. The aristocracy who opposed dynastic rule chose to declare their support for another candidate, Roderic. Violent endemic strife broke out between the sup- porters of each candidate which resulted in the destabilization of the region. Taking advantage of the political circumstances, the governor of Tangiers, Ṭāriq ibn Ziyād, led a combination of Arab and Berber forces under the banner of Islam across the Gibraltar

Strait (Clarke 2012:1). Roderic’s army was quickly defeated after a forced march to meet the invading force had left them exhausted (Clarke 2012:6). The forces of Ṭāriq which

Figure 6: 12th century depiction of Abū Ḥafṣ’ forces sailing to Crete. Biblioteca Nacional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica.

38 were further reinforced throughout the succeeding years were swift to conquer Iberia,

known under Arab rule as al-Andalus. Al-Andalus was governed through a combination

of client kings and direct Arab rule. The Roman-Celtic and Gothic populations – known

as the muwalladūn – were rapidly “Arabized,” though many remained Christian. (Chris-

tides 1984:81-82). By the late eighth century, particularly in Toledo and Cordova, ten-

sions were high between the muwalladūn and the ruling emir al-Ḥakam (796-822). In

797, Ḥakam arrested and executed large numbers of distinguished muwalladūn in Toledo.

This event was the catalyst which sparked a violent rebellion in Cordova led by the

muwalladūn, who had allied themselves with a group of Muslim jurists known as fakīhs.

The insurrection was brutally crushed by Ḥakam and the surviving muwalladūn were ex-

iled from Cordova. The Andalusian refugees splintered into two halves. The first, com-

prised of approximately 8000 men and their families, settled in the Moroccan city of Fez.

The second, a group comprised primarily of skilled artisans and their families, was led by

Abū Ḥafṣ al-Ballūṭī (referred to in the Greek sources as Apochaps). The circumstances of

exile forced Abū Ḥafṣ and his followers to resort to piracy, though they were neither sol-

diers nor sailors. From al-Andalus, Abū Ḥafṣ and his followers sailed to Ifrīqīyah, in-

tepreted by Christides (1984:82-84) as the African coast south of Sicily (DAI 96.45-46).

Sometime shortly after, Abū Ḥafṣ arrived in the Aegean. His raiding of the Cycladic Is-

lands is well attested through this period (al-Muqaffa 429, DAI 96.45-46, Theophanes

Continuatus 2.21). It is important to note, that while raiding the Aegean, the Andalusian

exiles became familiar with Crete, and Abū Ḥafṣ was impressed by the wealth of the is-

land (Genesios 2.10, Theophanes Continuatus 2.21).

According to Arab chroniclers al-Muqaffa’ and al-Kindī, after extensively raiding 39 the Cyclades, Abū Ḥafṣ and his followers appeared at Alexandria in 818 (al-Muqaffa 429,

al-Kindī(a) 158). Political strife greeted their arrival; three distinct Arab “tribes” present

in Alexandria, the Lakhm and Judham and Madlajah, had recently unsuccessfully at-

tempted to overthrow the local governor Omar (al-Muqaffa 430). According to Kindī,

Abū Ḥafṣ took advantage of the destabilization and allied himself and his followers with

the Lakhmites. Together, the Andalusians and Lakhmites managed to kill Omar and take

control of the city, though their alliance quickly eroded when endemic fighting ensued.

The Lakhmites were defeated and the Andalusians crowned Abū Ḥafṣ their emir (al-

Muqaffa 429-432). From Alexandria, it appears that the exiles continued raiding in the

Aegean until 825 when they were forced to surrender to general Abd Allah bin Tahir after

an assault on the city (al-Kindī(a) 158). Through diplomatic negotiations, the Andalu-

sians were allowed to sail from Alexandria and Abū Ḥafṣ turned his attention to Crete

(Figure 6), possibly due to his familiarity with the island (Christides 1984:87). The subse-

quent assaults on Byzantine Crete during the reign of emperor Michael II (820-829) were

attempts by Abū Ḥafṣ to settle his followers (Genesios 2.10). Throughout the years from

824-828, the Andalusian exiles secured their foothold on the island (though the chronol-

ogy of both the Byzantine and Arabic sources is confused) (Christides 1984:87-88). Both

Genesios, a tenth century Armenian historian, and Theophanes Continuatus (probably

working from the same sources) record that the Arabs landed at cape Charax (possibly

Matala) on the southern coast of the island (Genesios 2.10, Theophanes Continuatus 2.21,

Kaldellis 1998:39). According to ninth century Arab historian al-Balādhurī, Abū Ḥafṣ

proceeded to conquer Byzantine fortresses until there were none left on the island (al-

Balādhurī 376). They established their capital, known as Chandax, at the site of modern 40 day Heraklion on the north-central coast of the island (Genesios 2.10, Theophanes Con-

tinuatus 2.23).

Explanations for the seeming lack of Byzantine defensive forces on Crete prior to

the Arab invasion are varied. Several scholars (Spyridakes 1951:59-68 as cited by Chris-

tides 1984:101, Treadgold 1980:270) suggest that Crete had not been a theme previous to

its conquest by Abū Ḥafṣ, and as a result did not have an established garrison. In contrast,

Christides (1984:102) postulates that because of its strategic importance and material

wealth, Crete may have been established as a theme prior to its conquest by the forces of

Abū Ḥafṣ. Whatever the case, a combination of factors seems to have worked in favour of

Abū Ḥafṣ in his conquest of the island. Byzantine sources are in agreement that the re-

volts of Thomas the Slav (c. 820) had weakened Byzantine naval forces previous to the

Andalusian’s arrival on Crete (DAI 96.45-46, Genesios 2.10, Theophanes Continuatus

2.21). In addition, the murder of the Sicilian strategos Photeinos by the rebel Euphemios

paved the way for the Arab conquest of Sicily in 827 (Theophanes Continuatus 2.27, 5.52

1-2); this event must also have contributed to a divided Byzantine naval fleet (Haldon

2000:240, Makrypoulias 2000:357).

It is clear that the Cretan Emirate founded by Abū Ḥafṣ was not simply a base for

corsairs (though raiding did continue, Theophanes Continuatus 5.60), but developed into

a political regime (Makrypoulias 2000, Miles 1964). Bronze, silver and gold coins dating

to the Arab occupation of Crete provide a fleeting look at the economic and political sys-

tems of the Cretan Emirate (Miles 1964:15). To discuss the complexities of cultural inter-

action between the Arab conquerers and indigenous populations would be beyond the

scope of the current project, though as a generalized statement, life for local populations 41 was not changed significantly, and there is no evidence to suggest that the indigenous

populations were forced to convert or were subject to oppression from the new Islamic

regime (Christides 1984:106).

2.3b) The Byzantine Offensive

The conquest of Crete signifies a turning-point in the larger Byzantine-Arab con-

flict and marks the beginning of Arab dominance in the southern Aegean. From their

newly established base on Crete, the Arabs were able to raid virtually unchecked through-

out the Aegean islands. Several hagiographical works including the Life of Saint Luke the

Younger (2.8-12), detail extensive Arab raiding through the reign of Michael II, and in

particular that of Aegina. Michael II seemingly recognized the significance of a powerful

emirate located on Crete and launched a program of aggressive campaigns against the is-

land. Though the chronology is unclear, it appears that the first attempt to depose the An-

dalusians was launched soon after its initial conquest (Makrypoulias 2000:357). Michael

II sent Photeinos, the strategos of the Anatolian theme, to reconnoiter and gather informa-

tion on the enemy position. Reinforcements arrived soon after, led by the protospatharios

Damianos. In the ensuing battle, Damianos was killed and the Byzantine fleet defeated.

Photeinos escaped back to Constantinople where – despite his defeat – he was appointed

the strategos of Sicily (where he was eventually murdered by the rebel Euphemios, Theo-

phanes Continuatus 2.22, 23). Soon after Photeinos’ defeat, Michael II sent another fleet

of seventy war-ships to the island led by Krateros, the strategos of the Cibyrrhaetos naval

theme. The expedition was crushed and Krateros was crucified (Theophanes Continuatus

2.25). Before the end of his reign, Michael II had also lost the island of Cos to the An- 42 dalusians (Genesios 2.12, Theophanes Continuatus 2.25). In 829, Michael II died and was succeeded by Theophilos (829-842).

Raiding continued through the reign of Theophilos and his successor Michael III

(842-867), who launched an expedition in 843 which successfully recovered parts of the

island. With help from the emirs of Egypt, the Cretan Emirate was able to ward off the

Byzantine offensive. In addition to numerous attempts to recapture Crete, the Byzantines

also targeted the Egyptian port of Damietta in 853 to halt production of war-ships and

supplies which were funnelled through the port to the Cretan Arabs (Christides

1984:164). An expedition to Crete led by the high-ranking official Caesar Bardas in 866

was abandoned after Bardas was murdered by Basil I (the future emperor) for treason

against Michael III (the emperor at the time) (Genesios 4.20-23, Theophanes Continuatus

5.16,17). Through the reign of Basil I (867-886), the Andalusian’s raiding continued as

did Byzantine attempts to recapture Crete. From c. 872-879 the Cretan Arabs continued

raiding the Aegean islands as well as the Peloponnesian coast at Monemvasia, Methone,

Patras, and Corinth (Theophanes Continuatus 5.61). During this time, the Byzantines

managed to secure several victories against the fleet of Abū Ḥafṣ, once in 873 off Kardia

at the Gulf of Saros (close to Constantinople) and again in 879 in the Gulf of Corinth

(Theophanes Continuatus 5.60-61). The reign of Leo VI (886-912) saw the consolidation

of Arab power throughout the Aegean islands (Christides 1981:93). In 904, the Cretan

Arabs led by the Byzantine renegade commander Leo of Tripoli – known to the Arabs as

Ghulām Zurāfa – led a devastating assault on the city of Thessaloniki. The eyewitness ac-

count of John Kaminiates, who was living in Thessaloniki at the time, details the event

which saw numerous Byzantines killed and captured (Kaminiates 63). Leo also managed 43 to subjugate several Aegean islands – Naxos, and possibly Paros, and Ios – who were forced to pay tribute (Kaminiates 70).

In 910, in response to the growing threat of the Arab presence in the Mediter- ranean, Leo VI launched a massive expedition to the Syrian coast commanded by the patrikios and logothetes tou dromou, Himerios. The Arab response was to send the emir of

Tarsos, Damianos – another renegade Byzantine commander – to ravage the Cypriot coastline. The following year, Himerios and his fleet left the Levantine coast and unsuccessfully assaulted the island of Crete; his forces were annihilated in a naval battle off the coast of Chios in October of 912 by Leo of Tripoli (Pryor 2006:63, Haldon 2000:242).

The reign of Romanos I (920-44) saw a number of victories against the Syrian and Cili- cian emirs; in 923 Leo of Tripoli was killed in a naval battle led by the patrikios John

Rhadenos off the coast of Lemnos. The following year in an attempted siege of Strobilos in Cibyrrhaetos theme, Damianos was killed (Pryor 2006:64). Through the second half of

Constantine VII’s reign, after reassuming his position as sole ruler of the empire (944-

59), attempts to recapture Crete continued. A large expedition was launched against the island led by the admiral Constantine Gongyles in the summer of 949. Constantine VII amassed an army of approximately 21,000 soldiers and sailors (recorded in the De Ceri- moniis) for the attempted recapture of the island. The events which followed landfall on

Crete are recorded by the historian Leo Diaconis in his work entitled, History:

“The emperor Constantine, unable to bear the insolence of the Cretans and their sneak attacks, assembled a worthy army, fitted out a good number of fire-bearing triremes, and sent them against Crete, in hope of capturing the island at the first assault. But on account of the cowardice and lack of the commander, who was a eunuch of the bed chamber, an effeminate fellow from Paphlagonia, named Constantine and surnamed Gongyles even though he was the proud bearer of the very distinguished dignity of patrikios, the entire above-mentioned army, with the exception of a few men, was cut to pieces by the barbarians and utterly destroyed” (Leo Diaconis, History 1.2). 44 As Leo suggests, the expedition was a catastrophic failure. After an initial victorious battle against the Arabs, Gongyles failed to foresee the possibility of a surprise night attack and did not take the necessary precautionary steps to avoid one (Haldon 2000:242,

Makrypoulias 2000:355). The baggage train was captured and Gongyles barely managed

Figure 7: 12th century depiction of the Cretan Arabs surpising the sleeping Byzantine army. Biblioteca Nacional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica. to escape with his life. The defeat was catastrophic, likely both in terms of loss of life and resources (Figure 7).

The struggle against the Cretan Arabs was taken up by Nikephoros II Phokas

(963-969) who would later ascend to the throne after Constantine VII’s successor Ro- manos II died unexpectedly in 963. At the time of his ascension, Phokas was an experienced military commander who had held the high-ranking offices of strategos of the

Anatolikon theme and domestikos of the Scholai. The expedition led by Phokas in 961 is also recorded in the work of Leo Diaconis. Phokas, through a combination of skill and experience, was able to lead his armies in the successful siege of Chandax (for a discussion of Byzantine artillery see the Appendix to Chapter 2). His conquest marked the end of the Cretan Emirate. Pryor suggests (2006:50-51) that, in retrospect, the ascension of

Basil I to the throne in 867 signified a turning point in the overall struggle for the 45 Mediterranean. Through the reign of Basil I and over the next century Arab expansion in

the Mediterranean was mostly negated, and the balance shifted in favour of the Byzan-

tines. Though raiding continued, the potency of the Arab offensive was beginning to

wane. Conflicts and infighting within the Arab world saw increasing political fragmenta-

tion. The late tenth century saw defeat of the Cretan Arabs and the reassertion of Byzan-

tine control over the Aegean, as well as significant victories on the eastern frontier which

were instrumental in the resurgence of Byzantine prosperity through this period (Garrood

2008).

2.4) Considerations on the Evidence for Byzantine Arms

Three primary sources of evidence help to reconstruct Byzantine arms through the

middle period: artistic, historical, and archaeological. There are a number of difficulties

presented by the material evidence (or lack thereof) and the historical circumstances of

the tenth century in identifying Byzantine armaments. (1) Though artistic and historical

evidence are abundant there is a distinct lack of archaeological material. (2) The equip-

ment used by the Byzantine army was not static but under constant revision (e.g. the use

of felt caps through the tenth century). A defining characteristic of Roman military tradi-

tion was their willingness to adopt the equipment of foreign militaries (a tradition contin-

ued into the Byzantine Period) (Coulston 2013:482). Byzantine arms and armour were

deeply influenced by the nomadic peoples of the steppe world and in particular the legacy

of the Huns (e.g. the Hunnic bow). Distinctly eastern styles of armour such as lamellar (a

form of armour constructed of overlapping plates, see infra) were undoubtedly transmit-

ted to the Byzantine world through interaction with the Avars (Haldon 1999:129). In 46 order to better understand Byzantine equipment, the limited archaeological evidence from

within imperial territory must be corroborated by the preceeding and contemporary mili-

tary traditions that influenced it. For example, to understand the construction techniques

of lamellar armour we might look to Avar archaeological remains for inspiration. (3) The

increased frequency with which mercenary and foreign armies were hired for campaigns

through the tenth century make equipment of Byzantine manufacture difficult to identify.

It is unclear whether these armies were outfitted by the state, forced to purchase their

equipment from Byzantine vendors, or were already outfitted with equipment which had

been obtained prior to their employment as mercenaries (e.g. the Rus of Russo-Scandina-

vian descent) (Haldon 1999:134). In many cases those archaeological remains which

might be attributed to Byzantine manufacture are found in the graves of foreign warriors,

further compounding the difficulties in identification.

2.4a) Artistic Evidence of Arms

Piotr Grotowski (2010:299) convincingly argues that artistic depictions, and in

particular those of the so called “warrior saints,” currently represent our best evidence for

the reconstruction of middle Byzantine weapons and armour (Figure 8). Grotowski posits

that the introduction of technical details such as a rounded pommel or kite-shield into

iconography points towards a milieu in which artistic representations reflected the mili-

tary equipment of their time. Dawson (2007a:19) argues that not only do the depictions of

warrior saints reflect the technical details of contemporary military equipment, but also

portray an accurate scale. The use of iconography and other artistic renditions as com-

paranda for understanding the equivalent real-life equipment does have its limitations. 47 Figure 8: 11th century Byzantine steatite carving of St. George the “warrior saint” showing details of lamellar armour, tubular leg guards, and a tear-drop shield. Dawson 2007a:44.

48 The most obvious is that despite depictions of the warrior saints wielding swords and

spears fairly often, other weapons which were not closely associated with the saints sel-

dom appear. This is especially true of the battle-axe and mace. Though other artistic

media such as illuminated manuscripts do represent both the battle-axe and mace, they do

not convey the same resolution of detail present in the iconography of the saints (e.g.

Madrid Skylitzes, Theodore Psalter). It is also true that although some scholars believe

artistic renditions to be accurate representations of Byzantine armaments, the possibility

remains that they are not reflective of reality. Using artistic representations as a proxy for

the real-life equivalents can be a dangerous undertaking, but in the absence of any other

evidence, this remains the best course of action.

2.4b) Historical Evidence for Arms

In discussing the morphology of middle Byzantine equipment, the military trea-

tises cannot be ignored. Texts such as the Taktika of Leo VI, Praecepta Militaria, and the

Sylloge Tacticorum provide collaborative information on the technical details of equip-

ment – including size, dimensions, and construction techniques – which corroborate well

with the artistic and archaeological material. This seems to suggest some degree of stan-

dardization in the Byzantine panoply though whether this was a reality on the ground or

an ideal sought after by high-ranking military officials is unclear. For the purposes of pro-

duction, a standardized panoply some had advantages. The efficiency of production is in-

creased dramatically with the use of jigs and templates which accommodate standardized

production (personal correspondence with Sim, December 2016). If the state was to man-

ufacture these templates in a central workshop and distribute them to thematic craftspeo-

ple, then one could expect quite a substantial increase in production speed. From a 49 training perspective, a standardized panoply also had some advantages; equipment could

be transferred between recruits with little to no time required for readjustment. The disad-

vantages of a standardized panoply are presented in the challenges of maintaining such

standardization with a system of production that utilized dispersed thematic workshops.

Production of armaments across the empire must have introduced a degree of variance

into the morphology of equipment. Though it is a simple task in the modern day to indi-

cate and convey measurements through text, this may not have been the reality in the

past. It is difficult to gauge to what degree measurements such as a “span” or “cubit”

were standardized across the Empire, and whether or not individual craftspeople in the

themes had access to accurate references (for a similar discussion on Byzantine weights

see Entwistle 2008). Significant resource expenditure would be required to ensure that

each workshop tasked by the state to produce military equipment had access to standard-

ized templates. How driven would the state have been to facilitate the production of stan-

dardized equipment? It is difficult to assess, but remains more likely that thematic

workshops were given lists indicating the equipment required with the dimensions indi-

cated. The interpretation of these dimensions would have been left up to the artisan pro-

ducing the equipment. In this case, quasi-standardized may be a more fitting term; a basic

morphology was understood but variability was introduced through the means of produc-

tion. This is substantiated by the authors of the military treatises describing the dimensions of armaments with phrases such as “no less than,” or “even larger if possible” (PM

1.28-29). The evidence that does exist on the morphology of Byzantine equipment seems to corroborate well and paints a picture of a quasi-standardized panoply which the authors of the treatises identified as distinctly Byzantine.

50 2.4c) Archaeological Remains of Arms

Archaeological remains of middle Byzantine military equipment and production

sites are altogether scant. There are a number of factors which have contributed to the rel-

ative lack of archaeological material from this period: (1) The practice of interring grave-

goods – often the most reliable source for military equipment – was abandoned in the

Byzantine Empire (Haldon 2002:65). (2) Discarding arms was forbidden, and collecting

the arms of both friendly and enemy fallen soldiers was common practice. (3) Iron is a

material which can be recycled and repurposed. (4) When archaeological remains of

weapons or armour are discovered it is often difficult to attribute them to Byzantine man-

ufacture. Though there have been examples of both weapons and armour discovered

within imperial territory, without inscriptions or some other identifiable engraving, is it

difficult to identify them as Byzantine (further exacerbated by the presence of foreign and

mercenary armies through the tenth century) (Haldon 2002:66). Nevertheless, there was a

tradition of arms and armour which the authors of the military treatises identified as dis-

tinctly Byzantine, demonstrated by the association of technical terminology, dimensions,

and construction techniques with a range of equipment, though associating this terminol-

ogy with artistic or archaeological evidence presents many challenges.

There are a number of sites throughout imperial territory with evidence to suggest

the production of armaments (Eekelers et al. 2016:1080, Christie 2010:119, Lightfoot

2007, Poulter 2007, Haldon 2002:74, Lightfoot 1998). For example, a single deposition dump dating from c. 680–700 at the Crypta Balbi in Rome, brought to light a large number of metal production materials and manufacturing components in the context of a

Byzantine workshop. Belt buckles manufactured at this workshop have been found in a 51 series of Sardinian Lombard “warriors graves” along with weapons which closely resem-

ble those described in the Byzantine sources, possibly indicating that the weapons had a

similar Byzantine origin (though there are many other possibilities) (Christie 2010:117-

119). The situation at the Crypta Balbi is further complicated by evidence suggesting that

a variety of short-sword – known as scramasax – typically associated with the Lombards

was being assembled at the workshop (Ricci 1997:255). Thus it is difficult to attribute

these objects to any one cultural group, and raises the question as to whether or not these

objects can be identified as either Lombard or Byzantine.

2.5) The Byzantine Panoply

2.5a) Composition of the Byzantine Army

In the tenth century, the Byzantine army was separated into two primary divisions,

infantry and cavalry. Within these divisions there were several sub-divisions. The in-

fantry, the primary fighting force of the Byzantine army, was further sub-divided into

heavy infantry soldiers – hoplitai (spear-men) and menavlatoi (heavy spear-men) – and

light infantry soldiers, toxotai (archers), akontistai (skirmishers), and sphenthovolistai

(slingers) (McGeer 1988). Heavy infantry soldiers (Figure 9) – who were positioned in

the first two ranks of the fighting body – were accordingly equipped to take the brunt of

the assault from charging cavalry. Light infantry were less heavily equipped; their lighter

armour, in addition to their position behind the first two ranks, allowed them to maintain

mobility during combat. Byzantine cavalry were divided similarly between heavily and

lightly armoured soldiers (though heavy cavalry, because of their cost, were exclusive to 52 tagmatic units). Heavy cavalry – kataphraktoi – were the most

heavily armoured soldiers in the Byzantine army and were exclu-

sively outfitted by the Byzantine state (Haldon 1999:132). Their

role was as shock troops, used to disrupt and smash through

enemy formations (Haldon 2011:49). The light cavalry – prokour-

satores – were less heavily armoured making them more mobile

than the kataphraktoi. Light cavalry utilized their speed and range

capabilities to flank and harass enemy formations (McGeer

2008:23). In addition, there were also sailors, doctors, and engi-

neers (for a discussion of the Byzantine Navy seen Appendix to

Chapter 2) (Haldon 2000:222). This basic framework was one

which continued from the late Roman army of the fourth and fifth Figure 9: Reconstruction hoplites of the tenth century. centuries into the eastern Empire (Elton 1996:103-106). This particular warrior wears a klibanion over a For a Byzantine soldier in the tenth century personal or fa- quilted kremasmata, a riveted spangenhelm with an attached mail coif, splinted milial wealth played a large part in the type and quality of equip- iron arm- and leg-guards and leather boots. By his ment available. This is especially pronounced in the division left side hangs a paramerion and in his right hand a between infantry and cavalry in the thematic armies, a result of single-edged battle axe known as a tzikourion. Dawson 2007a:33. the provisions which implemented strateia and forced thematic

recruits to purchase their own military equipment (Haldon 2000:131). If sufficient mone-

tary funds were available to a recruit, he was able to upgrade his own equipment which

ultimately impacted the degree of standardization within the armies.

53 2.5b) Offensive Equipment: non-disposable

Non-disposable arms refer to weapons with a theoretical life-cycle longer than a

few battles (though this also characterizes armour, it will be dealt with separately).

Weapons which were non-disposable would be kept functioning for a lifetime or through

multiple generations due to the fiscal costs associated with their production. For the tenth

century Byzantines, these included spears, swords, axes, maces, bows, and slings. The

following equipment descriptions will use Dawson’s (2007b) interpretation (based on the

work of Schilbach 1970) of the pekhus (cubit, 31.23 cm, 46.8 cm, or 62.46 cm), spithame

(span, 15.6 cm, 19.5 cm, or 23.4 cm), and orguia (fathom, 156.2 cm, 187.4 cm, or 210.8

cm), Byzantine units of measure which are notoriously difficult to neatly convert into

modern terms.

2.5b i) The Spear

The spear was the primary bladed weapon of the Byzantine infantry in the tenth

century (Haldon 2014:194). Heads came in a number of varieties from leaf- to diamond-

shaped (Grotowski 2010:316). According to the Taktika of Leo VI, the Byzantines pos-

sessed three different general variations of spear, the kontarion, the kontarion mikron, and

the menavlion. The kontarion was the standard infantry spear which had largely retained

its overall shape from its Roman roots (Bishop and Coulston 2006:77). The Sylloge Tacti-

corum (38.3) provides a figure of 1.5 spans for the head of a kontarion. This indicates a

length of some 23 to 30 centimetres (based on a span of 15.6 centimetres). The overall

length of the standard infantry spear is given in Leo’s Taktika as 14 to 16 cubits, in the

Sylloge Tacticorum as 14 cubits, and in both the Praecepta (3.29-31) and Taktika of 54 Nikephoros Ouranos (56.3.33-35) as 25 to 30 spans. Dawson interprets this range from

4.4 to 5 metres (Dawson 2007b:9). The kontarion mikron is a generalized term referring

to a spear smaller

than the kontarion

(also referred to as a

doru in the Sylloge

Tacticorum, Dawson

2007a:24). The sug-

gested overall length

of a kontaria mikron Figure 10: Several of the spear and javelin heads found on the Serçe Limanı shipwreck. is given as 8 cubits in Leo’s Taktika Schwarzer 2004:364.

(5.12), and 8 to 10 cubits in the Sylloge Tacticorum (38.3), indicating a measure of 2.5 to

3.1 metres in length. The third variation of spear known in the treatises as the menavlion

was the weapon of the menavlatoi, a heavy infantry soldier tasked specifically with de-

fending against cavalry charges (McGeer 1988). The Praecepta Militaria (1.119-121)

suggests that the shaft of a menavlion be made of a whole un-cut sapling (as opposed to

one which has been planed and abraded to a uniform shape, i.e. cutting through the

grain). Dimensions for the head of a menavlion are given in the Praecepta (1.83-84) as 2-

2.5 spans – 31 to 39 centimetres – and in the Taktika of Nikephoros Ouranos as 1.5 to 2

spans (56.82-84) – 23 to 31 centimetres – more substantial than the kontarion. The over-

all length of menavlia is given in the Taktika of Nikephoros Ouranos as 1.5 to 2 fathoms

(56.82-84) – approximately 2.1 to 3.1 metres overall. Several well-preserved examples of

skhipharia (spear-heads) discovered on the eleventh century Byzantine shipwreck in the 55 natural harbour at Serçe Limanı seem to represent kontaria based on their size from 25 to

30 centimetres, though they could also represent menavlia in the smaller end of their

range (Figure 10). Grotowski (2010:28) suggests that one example of a spear-head found

in the Cathedral Museum in Mistra represents a menavlion (though I have not observed

this myself). Two other shafted weapons used by the Byzantines, tridents and sickle-blade

lances, also appear in the cargo of the 949 expedition (DC 669.16-17).

2.5b ii) The Sword

Two primary variations of swords were carried by the Byzantine infantry and cav-

alry in the tenth century, the spathion and paramerion. The standard double-edged long-

sword of the Byzantine army was the spathion, one iteration in a long line of Roman

swords. The spatha, a distant predecessor of the spathion, was already in use by the Ro-

mans in the first century A.D., likely adopted from the Celts (Bishop and Coulston

Figure 11: Sword discovered at Mikulčice. Jiří and Jiří 2006:203. 2006:82). At approximately 80 centimetres it was much longer than the gladius (another

standard Roman sword), and well suited for mounted combat (Bishop and Coulston

2006:155). Trends in artistic depictions of Roman swords indicate that sometime in the

second or third century, the spatha partly superceded the shorter gladius as the primary

sword of the Roman army (Bishop and Coulston 2006:154). The tradition of double-

edged long-swords continued into the Byzantine period with the spathion. The Sylloge

Tacticorum (39.2) suggests that it should be no less than 4 spans without the handle – as- 56 suming an approximate handle size of 20 centimetres (based on the Serçe Limanı bronze

hilt) – this would indicate an overall length from 80 to 96 centimetres (Schwarzer

2004:384). The spathion was carried in either a wooden or metal scabbard and most com-

monly slung over the shoulder on a baldric (Grotowski 2010:344, Dawson 2007a:6). Sev-

eral archaeological examples of swords and sword components (likely those of spathia) –

found within imperial territory and dated from the seventh to tenth centuries – have been

identified as Byzantine (though their origin has been some cause of dispute)

(Rabovyanov 2011). They are characterized by copper-alloy cross-guards with small up-

ward facing sleeves and copper-alloy pommels of various shapes, many of which have

been identified in the artistic record (Hoffmeyer 1966:96-97). A cast-bronze sword hilt

discovered on the Serçe Limanı shipwreck attests the use of bronze sword-accoutrements

until at least the eleventh century (Schwarzer 2004:384, Haldon 2002:73). Yotov (2011)

suggests the typification of three distinct styles of cross-guard based on the archaeologi-

cal remains and contemporary iconography. These include the Kunagota, Pliska, and

Garabonc types (Yotov 2011:116, 2014). Approaching the mid-eleventh, century cross-

guards seem to undergo a transition from the copper-alloy sleeve style to a cruciform

style with a heavy perpendicular quillon, probably made of iron.

Haldon (2002:74) attributes a series of swords discovered in Lombard graves in

Italy (early Byzantine period) to Byzantine manufacture. Grotowski (2010:345) identifies

a single sword accompanied by a metal scabbard in the Historical Museum, Athens as a

representation of a tenth century Byzantine spathion. One ninth century sword blade,

found in the grave of a Moravian noble at Mikulčice in the modern Czech Republic, has

also been identified as Byzantine manufactured (Jiří and Jiří 2006:203). In addition, Daw- 57 son (2007a:27) identifies a sword dating to the first half of the eleventh century as Byzan-

tine, demonstrating the use of the cruciform style quillon (Pierce 2002:128). One late

sixth to early seventh century sword blade discovered at Sardis likely represents a

spathion (Waldbaum 1983:30-31, Plate 1). These examples help to piece together the

general morphology of the Byzantine spathion.

The paramerion, a sword of the same length as the spathion, was also used by the

Byzantines. Much ambiguity surrounds the paramerion. It may in fact be a more general-

ized term than previously believed, and could represent a double- or single-edged, curved

or straight sword (Haldon 2014:173-

174, Grotowski 2010:357-360).

Dawson identifies the paramerion as

a curved single-edged sabre (Figure

11). A distinct characteristic was that

it was slung on a soldier’s waist, in

contrast to the spathion which was

more commonly worn over the

shoulder with a baldric (Haldon Figure 12: 12th century depictions of curved swords, possibly 2014:173). Fragmentary evidence parameria. Biblioteca Nacional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica. from the Serçe Limanı shipwreck indicates that a curved sword was among the cargo

(Schwarzer 2004:385). A single-edged sword dating from the late sixth to early seventh

century discovered at Sardis could possibly represent a paramerion (Waldbaum 1983:30-

31, Plate 1). A series of curved swords appear in the twelfth century Byzantine illumi-

nated manuscript known as the Madrid Skylitzes; the illuminations accompany the text of 58 the so-called Synopsis of Histories. It was possibly illuminated in Constantinople but

more likely in Sicily (Hoffmeyer, 1966:34)(Figure 12). The illuminators seemingly went

to great lengths to represent the then archaic military traditions possibly basing their illus-

trations of military equipment on prototype frescoes from earlier centuries (Hoffmeyer

1966:41-66).

2.5b iii) The Axe

The Taktika of Leo VI (5.13-15) attests the use of three different styles of battle-

axe: the single-bladed (often referred to as a tzikourion), double-bladed (often referred to

as a pelekis), and blade and spike varieties (referred to as a distralion) (Figure 13) (Daw-

son 2002:84, Kolias 1988:162-172, as cited by Haldon 2014:172). The Sylloge Tactico-

rum (38.10) tells us that axes were to

be carried by soldiers in a leather

scabbard. The Praecepta (1.25, 37)

assigns the use of battle-axes to

archers and infantry (hoplitai). Both

the tzikourion and pelekis are men-

tioned in the cargo of the De Ceri-

moniis (DC 671.125). Though

battle-axes do not appear in the Figure 13: 12th century depiction of the a blade a spike axe. Biblioteca Nacional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica. iconography of the warrior saints,

several do appear in other artistic media. Through the middle Byzantine period, the bat-

tle-axe was closely associated with the Varangian Guard, a regiment whose members – 59 composed of primarily Russo-Scandinavian mercenaries – served as body-guards to the

emperor (Haldon 2000:333). Folio 63v of the eleventh century Byzantine illuminated

manuscript known as the Theodore Psalter, depicts one single-edged battle-axe with a

crescent-shaped blade. Folio 41v of the same manuscript portrays a similar depiction of

the double-edged battle-axe. A similar depiction of Varangian Guard axes with crescent-

shaped blades is found in the Madrid Skylitzes. No archaeological examples of the

Byzantine battle-axes have been discovered to date.

Figure 14: 12th century depiction of the Varangian Guard wielding crescent shaped axes. Biblioteca Nacional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica.

60 2.5b iv) The Mace

The sidiroravdion was the choice weapon of the kataphraktoi, accompanied by a

sword. The head of the mace was to be made of iron and have three, four, or six sharp

Figure 15: 10th-11th century six-flanged iron sidiroravdion (possibly cast) . D’Amato 2012:45.

flanges (Figure 15). They were to be carried either on the belt or on the saddle (PM 3.53-

57). Maces, like axes, do not appear in the iconography of the warrior saints. One round-

headed mace appears on folio 63v of the

Theodore Psalter, and a square-headed mace can

be observed on folio 41v of the same manuscript.

D’Amato (2012:45) attributes several archaeolog-

ical examples of mace-heads dating from the

ninth to eleventh century to Byzantine manufac-

ture (Figure 13). He also suggests that the heads Figure 16: 12th century depiction of a cavalry soldier wielding a sidiroravdion. had been cast rather than forged (see Chapter 3). Biblioteca Nacional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica.

61 2.5b v) The Bow

The Byzantine toxaria – used by both foot and mounted archers – were based on

the Hunnic pattern and measured slightly over 1 metre in length (Figure 15) (Haldon

2014:169, Dawson 2007a:24). The toxarion was of composite construction, utilizing

wood, bone, and animal sinew. Another variation of bow – referenced in the De Ceri-

moniis (669.17) as toxareas Romaias (Roman bows) – may have developed separately.

Figure 17: 12th century depiction of the Hunnic patterned bow and a variation on the Roman ridge- helmet. Biblioteca Nacional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica.

The bow could be used in conjunction with an arrow guide which allowed short heavy

bolts (myas) to be shot from the bow (Haldon 1999:130). The Praecepta (1.32-33) sug-

gests that each archer was to be equipped with two bows and four bowstrings.

62 2.5b vi) The Sling

The sphenthovola were ubiquitous weapons for both light and heavy infantry in

the tenth century (Taktika (a) 6.118). The effectiveness of the sling came from both its

ease of manufacture as well as the accessibility of ammunition. According to the Sylloge

Tacticorum (38.10), the sling was to be no shorter than 6 spans long – approximately 1.4

metres. The Roman military treatise De Re Militari – based heavily on the works of ear-

lier authors (two of which date to the first century A.D.) – was composed by Vegetius in

either the late-fourth or fifth century A.D.(Charles 2007, Bishop 1985:2). He remarks

that stones cast from a sling were more deadly than arrows to a soldier in armour, a result

of the internal damage caused by their impact (DRM 1.16). Praecepta Militaria records

that every infantry soldier was to carry a sling in his belt (PM 1.37-38). Archaeological

remains of slings are scare through most of history simply because of the organic materi-

als with which they were constructed. Sling-bullets – made of baked clay or lead – com-

prise our primary archeological evidence for the use of slings. The staff-sling, essentially

a sling tethered to a long pole, was also used by the Byzantines to cast larger projectiles

(Dawson 2007a:25).

2.5c) Offensive Equipment: disposable

In contrast to non-disposable weaponry, disposable weapons were to be used once

and discarded (though could be retrieved if accessible). This includes arrows, caltrops,

and javelins. There are some important implications regarding labour investments in the

manufacture of disposable weaponry which will be explored in detail in Chapter 5.

63 2.5c i) The Javelin

The riktarion refers to a throwing javelin carried by light infantry and cavalry

(Sylloge Tacticorum 38.6, 39.8, PM 1.52). The concept of a throwing spear was likely

carried over to the Byzantine East from its Roman origins, though the earlier Roman pila

had fallen out of use (Dawson 2007a:24, Bishop and Coulston 2006:51-52). Slender

socketed Roman spears which were primarily intended for throwing, date back as far as

the Principate though the specific morphology of the Byzantine spear might also have a

Slavic origin (Bishop and Coulston 2006:76-78, Haldon 1999:130). A series of socketed

javelin heads (some with partially preserved wooden shafts) were discovered on the Serçe

Limanı shipwreck providing some indication to their morphology and dimensions

(Schwarzer 2004: 370-382). Schwarzer (2004:395) typifies two styles of javelin head,

nominated A and B. Length of the A type javelin heads ranged from 10.2 to 12.2 centime-

tres; those of the B type ranged in length from 12.6 to 13.7 centimetres.

2.5c ii) Arrows

Byzantine arrows were approximately 70 centimetres in length and fletched with

four feathers to accommodate a thumb release (Haldon 2014:169, Dawson 2007a:24). Ar-

rowheads were manufactured in a number of varieties, each with its own benefit. For mil-

itary use these included general

purpose conical pile, and heavy

diamond bodkin heads for

piercing armour (Figure 18) Figure 18: Mid- to Late-Byzantine heavy diamond bodkin arrowhead. Waldbaum 1983: Plate 5.82. (Dawson 2007a:10, 24, Haldon 2002:75, Lightfoot 1998, Waldbaum 1983:184-185). 64 Archers may also have carried pronged, barbed, and broad-bladed heads for hunting fowl

and game (Dawson 2007a:10, Waldbaum 1983:39). Like those discovered at Dura-Euro-

pos (third century A.D.) the tang of a Byzantine arrowhead was likely socketed into a

wooden or reed shaft, either directly or with the addition of a tapered pile (Bishop and

Coulston 2006:167-168). The Taktika (5.2.9, 6.129) and Sylloge Tacticorum (38.8) sug-

gest that each archer should carry 30-40 arrows. The later Praecepta (1.32-33) suggests

that each archer was to be equipped with two bows, four bowstrings, and two quivers

with a total of 100 arrows (with access to 50 more stored in the baggage train) (PM

1.137-140). The De Cerimoniis records that 440,000 arrows were required for the 949 ex-

pedition (DC 669.14-19, 676.13).

2.5c iii) Caltrops

Caltrops (trivolia) were small four-tined

iron implements which were intended to pierce

enemy footwear and cause debilitating injury

and ultimately infection (Haldon 2014:181).

They could be placed on the ground to prevent Figure 19: Roman iron caltrop discovered at movement through an area, or launched at enemy Walthamstow. The British Museum. formations and ships to cause disruption (Haldon 2000:278). One late Roman or early

Byzantine example of a four-tined caltrops discovered at Nikopolis, demonstrates that

such simple and effective weapons underwent few morphological changes from their

Roman predecessors (e.g. the Walthamstow example, possibly dating to the first century)

(Figure 19). For ease of deployment and recovery, they were often tied together in strings 65 of eight with pegs to keep them in place (Haldon 2014:181). For the 949 expedition

alone, the De Cerimoniis (671.9-10) records that 500,000 caltrops were required.

2.5d) Defensive equipment

Like non-disposable weaponry, armour theoretically had a long life-cycle and was

to be kept in working condition over the course of a soldier’s life. When damaged, ar-

mour was more than likely repaired than replaced. This is especially true for armour

which required significant labour to manufacture. Repairs were likely carried out as they

were needed while in the field. The raw materials required for repairing equipment, as

well as replacement equipment, were likely carried in the baggage train which accompa-

nied the Byzantines on campaign (PM 1.137-140).

2.5d i) Headgear

Archaeological examples of headgear as well as their corresponding depictions in

art represent the most comprehensive evidence for Byzantine armour. Several styles of

headgear are represented (most

commonly described by a variety

of terminology): the ridge-helmet,

the spangenhelm, the conical

helm, and the felt cap and

wrapped turban (kamelaukion).

The ridge-helmet, also known as Figure 20: Early Byzantine spangenhelm discovered at Novae. Biernacki 2012: 97. the Gardehelme or rib-helmet, was adopted by the Romans in the third and fourth cen- 66 turies from the Persians (Biernacki 2012:97, Bishop and Coulston 2006:214). Their con-

struction is characterized by modular sheet metal components formed into the shape of a

bowl which were secured with rivets to a prominent ridge piece. Their ease of manufac-

ture meant that they could be produced by semi-skilled labourers. Though no archaeolog-

ical remains for this style of helmet exist for the middle Byzantine period, their continued

use is attested in artistic media, similar in design to those discovered at Intercisa in Hun-

gary (possibly dating to the second or third centuries) (Figure 17) (Bishop and Coulston

2006:143, Dawson 2002:87). The spangenhelm was likely adopted by the Romans from

trans-Danubian barbarian groups sometime around the third century (Bishop and Coul-

ston 2006:212-215). Its construction is characterized by a metal frame or ring to which

modular sheet-iron plates were riveted. This method of construction made the spangen-

helm relatively simple to manufacture, though its joints were a point of weakness on the

helmet. A large corpus of mid-sixth century late Roman helmets discovered at Novae in

southern Bulgaria represent the conical spangenhelm variety (Figure 20) (Biernacki

2012:97). A spangenhelm of similar construction appears in folio 7 of the Theodore

Psalter. One other spangenhelm discovered at Yasenovo in Bulgaria dating to the eleventh

century is of possible Byzantine manufacture (D’Amato 2012:52).

The single component conical helm was yet another tradition carried over from

the Roman empire. Examples of such helmets were discovered near Intercisa, along with

the more common ridge-style, possibly dating to the second or third centuries (Bishop

and Coulston 2006:143). This style of helmet – reminiscent of the Phrygian cap – is well

attested in the Madrid Skylitzes (Figure 21) (there also exists one unpublished example of

an iron conical helmet discovered at Çadır Höyük in central Anatolia likely dating to the 67 late eleventh century). Each of these helmets might also have been outfitted with an aven-

tail of mail or cloth, or else ac-

companied by a mail hood worn

underneath (ST 38.5, 38.7, 39.3,

39.9, PM 4.35-37, Haldon

1975:25). The De Cerimoniis

(669.14-19, 670.7-10) also al-

ludes to helmets with accompa-

nied face-guards. It is possible Figure 21: 12th century depiction of a single-piece conical iron that a collection of nine, tenth helmets. Biblioteca Nacional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica. century face-masks discovered at Constantinople might correlate to such helmets (D’Am-

ato 2012:53).

Through the mid- to late-tenth century, felt caps (kemelaukia) held in place by a

turban wrap seem to be favoured over metal helmets, especially in regards to the poorer

infantry (PM 1. 23-24, Haldon 1999:131). A number of felt caps are listed in the cargo of

the 949 expedition (DC 670.2).

The term kasidion does not carry with it technical details on helmet construction

and is sufficiently generalized so as to make it difficult to determine the variety refer-

enced in the De Cerimoniis (669.14-19, 670.7-10). It is thus assumed that those listed in

the cargo of the 949 expedition represent either the ridge or spangenhelm variety as they

likely remained the most common metal helmet styles through the tenth century (Bier-

nacki 2012:97, Dawson 2007a:20).

68 2.5d ii) Body Armour

Body armour came in a variety of forms. Metal armour included, mail (lorikion,

from the Latin lorica), scale (sometimes also referred to as lorikion), and lamellar (kli-

vanion) (Dawson 2007a:22-23). Mail armour was developed by the Celts and adopted by

the Romans thereafter (Bishop and Coulston 2006:63). The mail coat of the Byzantines

was a thigh-length shirt with elbow-length sleeves. One segment of mail armour was dis-

covered at late Roman and early Byzantine Nikopolis (there also exists one unpublished

example dating to the mid-eleventh century at Çadır Höyük, demonstrating its continued

use) (Poulter 2007:42-43)

Leo implies that lorikia can also refer to scale armour (Taktika, 5.19-20). In the

middle Byzantine period scale shirts were thigh-length with elbow-length sleeves. Scale

armour was constructed of a series of bone, horn, leather, or metal plates – known as

scales – fashioned to a substrate of textile or leather. The scales of the torso area were

overlapped downwards to provide an extra layer of protection (Dawson 2013:5). Several

late Roman and early Byzantine scales were also uncovered at Nikopolis (Poulter

2007:42-43)

The klivanion was a form of plated lamellar armour (Dawson 1998). There are a

number of different variations of klivanion but in general terms refers to armour which is

constructed by fashioning together individual lames, perforated plates of metal, bone,

leather or horn (Figure 22). It differed from scale in that it was not usually fashioned to a

substrate but by held together by a continuous lacing of metal wire or leather. In the torso

region, each plate overlapped making this region two plates thick (Dawson 2013:5-7).

The term klivanion could refer simply to the breast and back plates of the armour, or con- 69 versely to the full panoply including the “shoulder guards, sleeves and skirt” (Dawson

1998:42). The klivanion was thigh-length

with elbow-length sleeves. This type of

armour was reserved for the wealthiest of

soldiers in the Byzantine army (Dawson

2007a:23). Several tenth century lames

Figure 22: Detail of lamellar construction. were found in Vielki Preslav in Bulgaria Dawson 2007a:20.

possibly of Byzantine manufacture (D’Amato 2012:54). Another group of Byzantine

lames dating to the early thirteenth century was discovered during excavations at the im-

perial palace at Constantinople (Dawson 2007a:62). Analogous archaeological examples

of scale and lamellar armour have been discovered to date in both the Near East and Cen-

tral Asia, from which the Byzantines adopted the style (Dawson 1998:43).

Quilted body armour became prolific in the later tenth century especially for the

infantry. Styles of quilted armour include kavadia, kremasmata, and epilorika. Several

examples of qabâ, a Persian style of cloth body-armour adopted by the Byzantines as the

kavadion, “[a] panelled skirt attached by a horizontal seam at the waist,” were discovered

in Achmim/Antinoe, Egypt (Dawson 1999:39-40). The kavadion was the choice armour

of the light infantry allowing for mobility in combat (PM 1.15). Dawson defines the kre-

masmata as, “a quilted skirt hanging below a soldier’s cuirass to protect his legs” (Daw-

son 1998:42). Epilorika refers to a padded or quilted surcoat worn over the armour.

Epilorika for the infantry were knee-length, and those of the cavalry slightly longer (Hal-

don 2014:175).

Though the trend of increased use of quilted armour can certainly be seen in the 70 later tenth century treatises, the cargo of the 949 expedition demonstrates that metal ar-

mour was still prolific by the mid-tenth century, by far representing the largest portion of

body armour in the cargo (DC 669.14-19).

2.5d iii) Limb Armour

Limb armour came in several varieties: arm-guards (manikellia, cheiromanika,

cheiropsella) were of quilted, mail,

splinted, or tubular construction. The

arm-guards referenced in the Taktika of

Leo VI (6.22-23) were a combination of

thickly quilted material wrapped in mail

(Haldon 2014:186). Those described in

the Praecepta (3.27-31) were of similar

construction, cotton or silk stitched as

thickly as possible and wrapped in mail.

The tubular variety of limb armour ap-

pears in the iconography of the warrior

saints and was likely constructed of iron Figure 23: Seventh century splinted iron greaves discovered at Valsgärde in Sweden. or copper-alloy (Figure 8). The splinted Arwidsson 1954: Plate 7.

variety of arm-guards – represented in the eleventh century fresco of the Goliath of

Aght’amar – could be made of iron, bronze or wood (the splinted variety can be seen in

Figure 9) (Dawson 2007a:23, Haldon 1975:16). The arm-guards referenced in the De Ce-

rimoniis (674.4). are referred to as cheiropsellon zygon, a term also used in the late-tenth 71 century Taktika (60.38) of Nikephoros Ouranos, though no indication as to construction

techniques are given (thus it is assumed they are of either tubular or splinted variety). The

term manikellia is also used in the De Cerimoniis (672.5-6) though in reference to a an

oar-sleeve (Haldon 2000:281).

Leg-guards (podopsella, kalkotouva), otherwise known as greaves, came in two

varieties, splinted and tubular. The splinted variety could be made of iron, bronze or

wood similar to arm-guards. Likewise, the tubular moulded style could be made of iron

or copper-alloy (Parani 2003:121). Those depicted most often in art are those of tubular

construction. One pair of leg-guards of tubular construction have been found in a Khazar

grave at Borisovskiy, Russia dating to the eighth or ninth centuries (Haldon 2014:176). In

addition to leg-guards, the Praecepta (1.20-23) suggests the use of thick leather boots

which could be folded down for marching and folded up to provide more protection.

Limb armour was reserved primarily for heavy cavalry, though could also be

worn by those heavy infantry soldiers who could afford them. In the early tenth century,

Leo (Taktika 6.22-23) indicates that limb armour is to be worn by all infantry soldiers; by

the time of the Praecepta (3.27-31), no such suggestion exists.

Little direct archaeological evidence has been found for Byzantine limb armour.

The primary evidence for Byzantine splinted arm- and leg-guards comes from contempo-

rary Scandinavian archaeological remains as well as Hungarian, Iranian and Turkestanian

and south Russian archaeological and artistic evidence (Figure 23) (Arwidsson 1954, Ar-

widsson 1939, Haldon 1999:133).

72 2.5d iv) Shields

Several varieties of skoutaria were also carried by Byzantine soldiers, including

the round, oval, and tear-drop styles (Haldon 1999:130, Dawson 1998). Shields feature

quite prominently in the iconography of the warrior saints as well as other artistic media

(Figure 8,14). Dawson (2007b:4) places the size of the six span tear-drop style shield de-

scribed in the Praecepta (1.28) somewhere around 1 metre in size. Shields of this size

and shape were used by heavy infantry and cavalry. A smaller round or oval shield is sug-

gested for the light infantry and cavalry and especially archers (PM 1.36). It is also noted

that the menavlatoi should carry a more modest shield than that of the hoplitai, though no

size or shape is given (PM 1.96). Shields would be carried by the soldier in combat with a

pair of vertical ropes or leather straps attached to ring mounts on the backside of the

shield (Dawson 2002:84).

Archaeological remains for skoutaria consist of one bronze shield boss dating to

the tenth or eleventh century discovered at Ain Dara in northern Syria, an area which saw

significant conflicts between the Byzantine and Arab powers (Nicolle 2002b: 226-245).

The De Cerimoniis records that stitched and Lydian shields are required for the expedi-

tion though this terminology is fairly ambiguous (DC 669.16).

The kataphraktoi were unique in that almost every piece of protective equipment

available was worn. The Praecepta (3.26-47) suggests that, in addition to a shield, the

kataphraktoi were to wear a metal helmet with quilted face protection, a lamellar corse-

let, quilted skirt, surcoat, and both gauntlets and greaves. Their horses were to be simi-

larly armoured.

73 2.6) Conclusions

The objective of this chapter was two-fold: (1) To explore the historical context of

the Romano-Persian and Roman-Arab wars. The purpose of such an overview was to es-

tablish a context for the eventual conquest of Crete by the Arabs. It was this event which

ultimately led to the expedition launched in 949 by Constantine VII, which constitutes the

primary case study for this thesis. The preservation of the De Cerimoniis, and the lists of

equipment within, provide the opportunity to explore labour investments in arms manu-

facture. This leads to the second aim of this chapter. (2) To establish a platform for dis-

cussing the methods of the fabrication used for the manufacture of equipment through a

detailed analysis of the Byzantine panoply. This is made more difficult when considering

that the terminology associated with armaments throughout the tenth century is often gen-

eralized. Without explicit reference to the construction techniques used in the manufac-

ture of equipment, we can only guess at the methods of fabrication. The next chapter will

explore some of the techniques and technologies used by Byzantine metallurgists in the

production of armaments.

74 Chapter 3: Byzantine Metallurgical Technology

3.1) Introduction

The metallurgical technologies present in the Byzantine world are yet to receive

significant attention in the scholarly community. It is the goal of this chapter to address

the first research question of my thesis: What were the techniques and technologies used

by Byzantine metallurgists in the manufacture of military equipment? Preceding and con-

temporary metallurgical traditions will be explored as proxy data for the establishment of

Byzantine technology. To achieve this objective, the fundamental principles of metallurgy

must be established, especially in regards to the production of military equipment. This

examination will begin with an overview of the technical details regarding extractive

metallurgy and the complex processes which facilitate the extraction of iron from ore.

The various alloys of iron and their uses will also receive considerable attention in the

current chapter. This includes the chemical and microstructural differences of wrought

iron, steel, and cast iron along with the properties exhibited by each in regards to the pro-

duction of ferrous military equipment. A final aim of this chapter is to establish a basis

for forging techniques and technologies used by the Byzantines to manufacture ferrous

armaments. Since Byzantine technologies are largely unknown, an overview of Roman,

Avar, and Arab metallurgical traditions will form the basis of the proxy evidence.

3.1a) Iron and its Alloys

Though Pliny the Elder wrote many fantastical observations in his 1st century

A.D. Natural History, his commentary on the production of iron and its role in the Roman

mind, I believe, represents valuable insight. 75 “Next an account must be given of the mines and ores of iron. Iron serves the best and worst part of the apparatus of life, inasmuch as with it we plough the ground, plant trees, trim the trees that prop our vines... with it we build houses and quarry rocks, and we employ it for all other useful purposes, but we likewise use it for wars and slaughter and brigandage...” (Pliny, Natural History 34.39).

Much like the modern Western world’s reliance on steel, the fabric of ancient life was interwoven with iron. The earliest examples of worked iron begin to appear at approximately 4000 B.C. (Sassoon 1963:176). Before the technology had been developed to extract iron from ore, ancient peoples made use of meteoric iron and iron deposits to create objects (though deposits with any quantity of workable iron are scarce) (Sassoon

1963:176). Though the use of meteoric iron has been exemplified in the archaeological record, its quantity was not significant enough to impact anything more than local industry (Sassoon 1963:177). With the development of suitable smelting technology the ability to extract iron from ore made access to the black metal more consistent. Examples of smelting iron have been discovered as early as 2500 B.C., though widespread use of ferrous extractive metallurgy did not occur until much later (Sassoon 1963:178).

3.2) Extractive Ferrous Metallurgy

Extractive metallurgy indicates the processes which facilitated the extraction of a desired metal or mineral from a naturally occurring ore – a type of rock with sufficient metal or mineral presence. This was achieved in the ancient world through what is known as the bloomery process, making reference to the spongy conglomerated mass – known as a bloom – which was the final product of bloomery smelting (Williams 2012:12).

76 3.2a) Smelting

Smelting was achieved in an apparatus known as a furnace of which many differ-

ent styles have been utilized in the ancient world, including the bowl-furnace, dome-fur-

nace, and shaft furnace. The process of bloomery smelting relies on two foundational

pillars: sustained heat over many hours, and the production of carbon monoxide (CO)

within the furnace (Scott 2013:6, Williams 2012:12). Ferrous metallurgy is heir to a long

tradition of copper-alloy metallurgy. The fundamental principles of extracting iron from

ore are the same as extracting copper from malachite or cuprite, differing only in the heat

required to successfully extract the metal (Scott 2013:3). The higher melting point of iron

means that higher temperatures must be sustained over a longer period of time in order

for it to be successfully reduced (Scott 2013:3). At approximately 800 °C iron begins to

reduce from its oxides, but in order to decrease the impurities present in the final product,

a temperature of approximately 1150 °C must be maintained (Scott 2013:4, Williams

2012:13). A low temperature smelt will produce an iron with large quantities of slag in-

clusions (the by-product of the bloomery process, comprised of both ferrous and non-fer-

rous material), greatly affecting the structural integrity of the final product. The purpose

of the bloomery process was not to melt the iron; in cases where molten temperatures

(1550 °C) were achieved, the rapid absorption of carbon produced what is known as cast-

iron, which cannot be forged without crumbling (Williams 2012:12). As the heat of iron

increases the solubility of carbon within the iron also increases, and it is this carbon con-

tent which largely determines the iron’s properties. As a general rule of thumb, the longer

and hotter the smelting process, the higher the carbon content achieved within the bloom

through primary carburization. The composition of any bloom was not homogenous, and 77 by the nature of the bloomery process a consistent composition throughout the bloom was

nigh impossible to attain.

3.2b) The Furnace

The bloomery furnace,

and a particular variation

known as a shaft furnace, is

constructed of two integral

components, the shaft and the

tuyère (Figure 24). The hollow

cylindrical superstructure of the

furnace, known as the shaft,

was constructed of stones,

bricks, or daube (a mixture of

clay and organic material). Figure 24: Mechanisms of a shaft furnace. Sim 2012:38.

Since shafts do not often preserve to their full height, a result of their relatively fragile

nature, it is difficult to assess trends in furnace height. Those furnaces which have pre-

served well in the archaeological record supplemented by information garnered through

extensive experimentation in smelting indicates that shaft height might vary anywhere

from 60 to 200 centimetres (Crew 1998, Cleere 1971:209, Tylecote et al 1971:342). The

so called slag-tapping furnaces, named for their ability to tap – or drain – the viscous slag

from the bottom of the furnace during the smelt were a more complex variety (Cleere

1972). Slag-tapping was achieved by introducing a (coverable) hole towards the bottom 78 of the furnace. This could be done through a small hole at the base of the shaft, or into a

pit directly below or in front of the furnace. These furnaces possessed a number of advan-

tages over non slag-tapping furnaces including a hotter smelt, a large yield, and the abil-

ity to remove slag and reuse the superstructure of the furnace (which is destroyed while

removing the bloom in a non slag-tapping furnace) (Sim 2012:39).

Ceramic tubes known as tuyères were fitted into the shaft of the furnace facilitat-

ing a forced draught of air into the fire (one, or in some cases, two tuyères were used).

The hottest point of the furnace is located at the end of the tuyère which resided within

the furnace. It is at this spot that the most carbon monoxide is produced, and thus the

greatest quantity of iron is reduced; therefore the positioning and angle of the tuyère upon

the shaft is essential. Though blow pipes and natural draught were utilized in the ancient

world, to sustain the high temperatures required for iron smelting, bellows were a more

consistent method (though labour intensive) (Forbes 1964:117). Much like furnaces, bel-

lows were constructed in antiquity using a variety of different methods, including box-

bellows, pump-bellows, and skin-bellows (Forbes 1964:114-117).

3.2c) Charcoal and Ore

The primary fuel source for smelting in the ancient world was charcoal and

specifically hardwood charcoal (Forbes 1964:106-111, Nerantzis 2009:62, Sim 2012:47).

Charcoal is the product of reducing the water and organic matter in wood through pyroly-

sis. When wood is burned absent of oxygen, water and organic substances are “sepa-

rated,” and what remains is almost entirely comprised of carbon. The resultant charcoal

burns at a much higher temperature than green or dry wood. Before beginning a smelt, 79 the shaft walls were preheated by burning charcoal within the furnace. In the case of a

daube furnace, the organic material within the structure of the furnace would help to fire-

harden the clay (Scott 2013:7).

Once the furnace was preheated it could be charged with ore, which had under-

gone a number of preparatory stages. The first stage was to wash the ore and mechani-

cally remove any impurities such as clay which might be present. Once it had been

sufficiently washed, the ore was roasted in pits or ovens which removed any excess water

and elemental impurities (especially sulphur). The process of fire-roasting left the ore in a

porous state, allowing it to be crushed more easily into smaller pieces which could be

heated more effectively (Forbes 1964:127). To avoid transporting raw ore over long dis-

tances, it was likely processed within close proximity to the excavation site (see Chapter

4) (Sim 2012:34). The prepared ore was then placed on the charcoal bed which had been

built up within the shaft of the furnace. As the charcoal was consumed the bed lowered

continuously within the shaft. Specific quantities of ore and charcoal were charged into

the furnace in layers. As the ore reached the critical point – for both heat and carbon

monoxide production – in the shaft concentrated near the tuyère, the elemental iron pres-

ent in the ore began to reduce from its oxides in a viscous state. The viscous iron would

then amalgamate at the bottom of the shaft in a spongy mass on top of the heavier slag

which remained in the furnace, known as the slag bowl. Controlling the quantity of slag

in the furnace was key to a successful smelt. The proper reduction of iron could be pre-

vented if too much slag remained in the furnace. In this case, the viscous slag must be

tapped from the furnace. A measured supply of ore and fuel were fed into the furnace

over the course of many hours, until the desired quantity of ore had been consumed. A 80 number of other factors such as maintaining the correct temperatures through observation

of the bloom colour, tapping the required quantity of slag at the correct time, and remov-

ing and consolidating the bloom could drastically affect the outcome of the smelt and the

quality of the bloom. (Scott 2013:6). The inherent difficulties in the smelting process

made it difficult to produce a consistent product over multiple smelts, which meant that

further processing the iron was necessary to improve the quality of the final product.

3.2d) Bloom, Billet, and Bar Processing

When the smelt was completed, the fused bloom and slag bowl were removed

from the furnace. In the case of a non-slag tapping furnace, the superstructure would be

destroyed during this process. Since slag was a waste product, it was removed from the

bloom by repeated hammering, often utilizing multiple strikers (see infra). The limited

uses of slag meant that it was often discarded by ancient metallurgists, which explains its

prevalence at archaeological sites across the ancient world.

Once the slag had been removed, the next step to produce workable iron was to

consolidate the spongy bloom, a process known as bloomsmithing. Repeated heating (to

approximately 1150 °C or yellow in colour) and intense hammering welded the porous

bloom into a single mass. This process reduced the weight of the bloom significantly as

both excess slag and ferrous material were expelled. According to experimentation by

Sim (2012:57), a reduction in weight from 50% to 75% could be expected. The percent-

age of iron maintained during this process was largely dependent on the quality of the

bloom. Once the bloom was consolidated it was then forged into a billet. Whether consol-

idation and billet forging were combined as a single process, or involved multiple con- 81 stituents is unclear. Archaeological examples of Roman billets discovered at the legionary

fortresses of Strageath and

Newstead (A.D. 80-100) in

Scotland suggest a level of

standardization in billet Figure 25: Two billets discovered at Newstead. weight and dimensions for National Museums Scotland.

use in the military (Figure 25). The billets discovered at both Roman forts contained suf-

ficient quantities of iron for the production of most types of personal armaments (e.g.

one, or possibly several, swords) (Sim 2012:58-60). It is not unlikely that a similar sys-

tem was carried into the Byzantine East.

The final step before the production of an artefact was the reduction of the billet

into a more manageable size, a process known as barsmithing. The iron required for the

intended object would be cut from the billet and shaped into a blank appropriate for the

project. This required minimal skill as a smith and likely was carried out by labourers

(see infra).

3.3) Iron Microstructure

Now that a basic understanding of iron production has been established, the focus

will shift to the various microstructures of iron with particular attention to the qualities

which made iron and its alloys suitable for arms production. One fundamental property in

particular which enabled ancient metallurgists to manipulate iron was its basic mi-

crostructural changes when introduced to heat. When iron is heated to temperatures be-

tween 910-1390 °C its basic crystalline microstructure changes from a body centred cubic 82 lattice (BCC) to a face centred cubic lattice structure (FCC) (Scott 2013:2). An FCC lat-

tice is much softer and more malleable than a BCC lattice; when iron is heated for forg-

ing the blacksmith is taking advantage of this change in crystalline structure (Scott

2013:2). It is important to note that the solubility of carbon in iron increases as iron is

heated, a result of the change from a BCC to FCC lattice (Scott 2013:42). The presence

of alloying elements – such as carbon – is an important factor in determining the type and

properties of iron. The two varieties of iron most pertinent with regards to arms produc-

tion are wrought iron and steel. The primary distinguishing feature between these vari-

eties is the percentage of the alloying element, carbon, within their structure (the most

common alloying element for iron). Each type possessed a number of properties which

may be advantageous or detrimental for use in the production of armaments. The two

most consequential qualities can be defined as hardness and toughness. These qualities

must be balanced in order to produce an effective weapon.

3.3a i) Hardness and Toughness

As a general rule, as the carbon content of iron increases, so does its hardness and

brittleness (along with other properties). The hardness of iron is measured using the Vick-

ers Pyramid Hardness scale (VPH) represented in kh.mm-2 (Williams 2012:11). Rapidly

cooling iron with a carbon content beyond .04% in water or oil from its upper critical

temperature (910°C) – a process known as quenching – drastically affects its microstruc-

ture and was utilized by the ancients to achieve a higher degree of hardness. Quenching

accelerated the rapidity at which the iron cooled through its phases and facilitated the cre-

ation of a very hard but brittle structure within the iron known as martensite. With re- 83 gards to arms production, a martensitic structure is desireable for the tip and edges of a

bladed weapon, enabling greater degrees of sharpness, penetrating power, and longevity.

For the core or body of a bladed weapon the brittleness of a martensite structure is an ad-

verse quality, prone to catastrophic breaking during extreme stress, which would render

the weapon useless. For the core of a weapon toughness is required.

The toughness of iron is measured by its ability to resist fracturing. Though softer

and more flexible iron is not desirable for the tip or edges of a weapon, it is essential for

its core. Rather than breaking under extreme stress, a weapon which utilizes a flexible

iron core bends instead – a deficiency which can be corrected much more easily. An ideal

weapon combines the properties of both hardness and toughness through the use of differ-

ent varieties of iron.

Pliny once again provides interesting insight into the Roman conception of iron

and its alloys.

...but of all the varieties of iron the palm goes to the Seric, sent to us by the Seres with their fabrics and skins. The second prize goes to Parthian iron; and indeed no other kinds of iron are forged from pure metal as all the rest have a softer alloy welded with them. In our part of the world, in some places the lode supplies this good quality, as for instance in the country of the Norici, in other places it is due to the method of working, as at Sulmona, and in other, as we have said, it is due to the water... (Pliny, Natural History. 34.41).

Though he recognizes the different properties of iron, his understanding of “why”

is limited. Ore from Noricum gained a reputation in the ancient world for being of high-

quality. This is due to the natural occurrence of steel in these ores (Salter 2007:301-305).

So-called Seric iron, also known as crucible steel, was produced in India via the Wootz

process (Williams 2012:26).

84 3.3a ii) Wrought iron

Iron with a carbon content below 0.08% is known as wrought iron. It is the most

common product of bloomery smelting and represents the most ubiquitous form of iron

used by ancient peoples (Scott 2013:40). The relative ease of production meant that the

majority of metal objects from across the ancient world were created using wrought iron,

including disposable weaponry such as arrowheads, javelins, and caltrops It is relatively

soft and malleable (approximately 80 VPH to 130 VPH) making it suitable for use in a

wide array of objects (Scott 2013:40). These same properties made it less useful for ob-

jects which required hardness, a characteristic of edged weapons. This is especially true

of swords, which require rigid edges to prove effective as a weapon. To increase the hard-

ness and rigidity of wrought iron it can be work-hardened (cold-hammered) which can

provide significant improvements to the hardness of the object (up to 268 VPH) (Sim

2012:98). One example of a possible Byzantine wrought iron arrowhead discovered at

Sardis in Turkey exemplifies the use of this technique (not securely dated) (Waldbaum

1983:184-185). The use of wrought iron for disposable weaponry is unsurprising, though

it is interesting to note that the smith expended effort to work-harden the arrowhead. The

use of wrought iron in the production of disposable weapons through the Byzantine pe-

riod was almost certainly practiced due to the expense of producing steel and the expend-

able nature of these weapons. In addition to disposable weaponry, the use of wrought iron

has been demonstrated in the production of mail where its relative softness allows it to

better absorb blows (Sim 1997:364-365).

85 3.3a iii) Low-carbon steel

Steel refers to the alloy of iron and carbon. Low-carbon steel (a hypoeutectoid

steel, with a mixture of pearlite and cementite microstructures) is comprised of a carbon

content of approximately 0.08% - 0.8%. It was produced in the ancient world through

several processes. As the crystalline structure of iron changes from BCC to an FCC lat-

tice within its critical temperature range from 910-1390 °C, the solubility of carbon in-

creases (Scott 2013:117, Williams 2012:24). The primary absorption of carbon within

iron during the smelting process may facilitate the production of low-carbon steel, de-

pending on the length of time in the furnace and the intensity of the heat. This is known

as primary carburization. It was also possible to produce low-carbon steel through sec-

ondary carburization (see infra). Low-carbon steel possesses many qualities favourable

for arms production, especially edged weapons. It has a range of hardness values from

80-120 VPH unquenched, to 200-800 VPH when quenched, significantly harder than can

be achieved with wrought iron (Sim 2012:98). Low-carbon steel was beneficial for the

core of a weapon which required high levels of toughness and flexibility. Medium-carbon

steel, here grouped together with low-carbon steel, can be said to comprise 0.3%-0.7%

carbon (Williams 2012:54).

3.3a iv) High-carbon steel

High-carbon steel (a hypereutectoid steel, comprised of pearlite and ferrite struc-

tures) contains carbon above 0.8% and up to 1.2%. High-carbon steel is harder than both

wrought iron and low-carbon steel but is still malleable enough to be forged. As the car-

bon content reaches the higher range of high-carbon steel it becomes increasingly hard 86 and brittle. Hardness values for high-carbon steel range from 150 VPH to over 1000 VPH when quenched, making it ideal for the edges of bladed weapons but too brittle for the

core. Like low-carbon steel, high-carbon steel was also sporadically produced through

primary carburization in bloomery furnaces, though the number and range of factors

which may affect the outcome of a smelt meant that the consistency with which steel

could be produced was variable. The blooms produced in bloomery furnaces are never

homogenous in their composition, and a single bloom might contain steely components

fused with wrought and cast iron. These steely elements could be separated from the rest

of the bloom and forge-welded with other steel to create billets. The discovery of high-

carbon steel fragments at Nikopolis, a late Roman and early Byzantine city (450-600), il-

lustrate the use of this technique (Salter 2007:301-305).

Crucible steel, a form of high-carbon steel, was produced using three different

methods which share the common characteristic of production within an enclosed cru-

cible (usually clay). The first method was to carburize wrought iron (typically associated

with the Wootz process of India), the second to decarburize white cast iron, and the third

to combine both wrought iron and white cast iron (attributed to the Arab world of the

ninth to twelfth centuries) (Scott 2013:129, Williams 2012:25-35, Craddock 1995:269). A

twelfth century manuscript known as De diversis artibus (On diverse arts) contains an

extensive account of medieval crafts, including metalworking. The text is attributed to

Theophilus Presbyter, likely a pseudonym for the accomplished metalworker and Bene-

dictine monk, Roger of Helmarshausen. Included amongst his descriptions is the use of

secondary carburization, a process which is difficult to observe in the archaeological

record (On diverse art 91, Hawthorne and Smith 1963:xv-xvi). His use of the pseudonym 87 Theophilus, a Byzantine name, may be in reference to the Empire’s legacy of excellence

in these crafts (Hawthorne and Smith 1963:xv-xvi). Another example of this technique is

preserved in a Byzantine alchemical treatise dating to the ninth or tenth centuries (see

infra).

3.3a v) Cast-iron

Cast iron has a carbon content of approximately 2-4%. It is produced when iron is

heated to liquid temperatures, approximately 1535 °C (this fluctuates depending on the

initial carbon content of the iron, the higher the carbon the lower the melting point) where

carbon is rapidly absorbed (Williams 2012:25). Cast iron is hard and brittle and cannot be

forged, thus it is not suitable for most weapon making. Cast iron can be decarburized to

produce low and high-carbon steels (a technique developed in the Western Han Dynasty,

206 B.C. - A.D. 9), or combined with wrought iron and powdered manganese dioxide in a

crucible to achieve a similar result. The use of such a technique is described in several

Arab treatises dating from the ninth to twelfth centuries (see infra) (Hoyland and Gilmour

2012:52). White cast iron was also variably produced through the bloomery process. The

term white refers to the appearance of the metal when fractured, a result of the formation

of cementite in the iron. D’Amato suggests that several iron mace-heads dating from the

ninth to eleventh centuries were cast, though seemingly no microstructural analysis was

conducted. Živić (2009:205) suggests that iron casting was practiced at the fifth-sixth

century late Roman workshop at the Palace of Galerius in Serbia (Romuliana – Gamzi-

grad). Casting technology is traditionally thought to have been developed in the west in

Sweden shortly after A.D. 1200 (Williams 2012:189). These examples pre-date this as- 88 sumption and seemingly point towards earlier access to this techology by the Byzantines.

No microstructural analysis had been conducted by Živić, so these claims remain uncer-

tain.

3.3a vi) Quenching and Forge-Welding

The ancients utilized several techniques to achieve a combination of hardness and

toughness in armaments. A process known as forge-welding allowed for multiple separate

pieces of iron to be fused into a single object. Forge-welding remains one of the most dif-

ficult skills for a blacksmith to master, as it requires precise heat control, the use of flux –

Figure 26: Sword discovered at Mikulčice with evidence for forge-welding. Jiří and Jiří 2006:203.

a material used to prevent oxidation in the welding process – and careful striking.

Pattern-welding (an elaboration of the piling process) consisted of layering different al-

loys of bar iron, usually iron and steel, and welding them together through repeated heat-

ing and hammering. This produced a stock comprised of both alloys. Several of these

layered steel bars were produced, each of which was heated and twisted. The twisted bars

were forged into one stock which was then used to produce an artefact (Sim 2012:104-

105). The final product combines the properties of both iron and steel as well as displays

an eye-catching pattern on the surface of the artefact (Figure 27) (Scott 2013:148, Sim

2012:105, Williams 2012:62). It is also possible for a steel edge to be forge-welded onto a

core comprised of wrought iron or low-carbon steel. An example of this production tech-

nique is represented by a ninth century sword discovered at Mikulčice in the modern 89 Czech Republic of possible Byzantine manufacture (Figure 27) (Jiří and Jiří 2006). Petro-

graphic analysis of 21 samples of smithing slag discovered at Sagalassos in southwest

Turkey dating from the first to seventh centuries suggests the use of flux for forge-weld-

ing, though the majority of the samples date to before the sixth century (Eekelers et al.

2016:1082).

In addition to forge- and pattern-welding, there existed several other techniques

which allowed for hardness and toughness to be combined in a single artefact. Rather

than quenching the entire weapon, specific areas (namely the edges and tip) could be

quenched to facilitate the production of martensite – a process known as differential

quenching. Alternatively, after a full

quench it is possible to “relieve” the

chosen areas of the iron through a

process known as tempering. Heat is

reapplied where toughness is required

over rigidity which tempers the Figure 27: Reproduction pattern-welded sword. martensite structure and increases The British Museum.

both ductility and tensile strength. This must be done below the lower critical tempera-

ture, 725 ºC, where austenite begins to form, usually determined by the colour of the iron

(Scott 2013:63). Another technique, known as slack quenching, follows similar principles

to a full quench but reduces the rapidity of the cooling. This allows for the reduction in

martensite being formed while still resulting in increased hardness.

90 3.4) Forging the Black Metal

Forging in its most basic sense is the use of a hammer or similar object to strike metal for the purpose of manipulating it into a desired shape. This can be achieved with or without heat, hot- and cold-forging respectively. A blacksmith – an individual who

“smites” black metal – refers specifically to the smithing of iron and its alloys, which when forged produce a black scale which coats the metal. Though there are historic examples of cold-forging iron, these are more often than not exceptional circumstances. For example in the Arctic, an area bereft of suitable forge fuel, cold-forging was practiced

(Scott 2013:30, Forbes 1964:134).

3.4a) Tools of the Trade

Blacksmithing technology has survived for thousands of years with little change to the implements which facilitate the craft. At the same time the tools created by each blacksmith to accomplish the task at hand are unique and reflect their individual innovation.

The heat required to smith iron was achieved through the use of a forge. A forge is an apparatus which utilizes a fuel and oxygen source in order to reach the high temperatures required to smith iron. At approximately 1100 °C iron glows bright yellow. It is at this temperature which iron is most malleable (this is a generalization as different alloys react to heat differently). Temperatures beyond this point have the tendency to burn the iron and render it useless, while temperatures below this point make manipulating the metal difficult (though there are circumstances where forging will be done at a lower heat). There are many variables which determine the temperatures that a certain forge is 91 able to achieve, including the volume of oxygen which is fed into the forge as well as the

choice of fuel. The second component of a forge is the oxygen source. The technology

behind a forced oxygen source varied widely across the ancient world, but was primarily

achieved through the use of bellows, though natural drafts could also fulfill this role. The

purpose of bellows was to force oxygen into the forge allowing the fuel to burn at much

higher temperatures.

The hammer is one of two essential tools of the blacksmith. Though there are

many smithing tools, the forging hammer is the most ubiquitous. Hammers come in a va-

riety of styles and sizes, each with its own advantages and disadvantages. Modern and

presumably ancient blacksmiths chose their hammer based on their personal preferences

as well as the requirements for the job. The purpose of the hammer is to strike the metal

and manipulate it into a desired shape.

The sister to the hammer is the anvil which could be made of iron or stone (Figure

28). Though an anvil fulfills

many roles, its primary use is to

provide a flat and unflinching

work surface for the smith to

shape the metal. When an anvil

is used properly it becomes

more than a work surface but a Figure 28: Ivory casket panel depicting Adam and Eve working a second tool which actively forge from the 10th-11th century. Constructed in Constantinople. Metropolitan Museum of Art shapes the metal. The use of tongs greatly expands the variety of objects which a black-

smith is able to create. As a general rule, if the object is more specialized – in terms of 92 size, shape and skill required to create – then more specialized equipment is necessary. A

blacksmith’s equipment might also include swages, punches, flatters, fullers, cuts, and

sets (see Glossary).

Finishing was achieved with abrasive materials such as sand or stones. This could

be carried out on a number of different levels, from coarse grinding – with a grinding

wheel, file or wire brush – to fine polishing with pumice or sand (Forbes 1964:137).

Theophilus Presbyter once again provides a historical account for the use of such abrad-

ing and polishing techniques (De diversis artibus 3.42, 3.68). Finishing an artefact re-

quired significantly less skill than primary fabrication, and was likely carried out by a

cutler or a semi-skilled labourer. This meant that several projects could run concurrently.

3.4b) The Use of a Striker

Sim suggests (2012:46) that the optimal smithing operation requires five individu-

als, depending on the size of the forged object (with smaller objects such as personal in-

fantry armaments, too many strikers becomes crowded). The first was the skilled

blacksmith who both participates in and directs the work. The next three were strikers

with large sledgehammers whose main purpose was to accelerate the forging process. The

final individual was to work and maintain the forge, powering the bellows and adding

fuel when required. The use of one or multiple strikers was one method utilized in the an-

cient world to increase the efficiency of forging, a very physically demanding discipline.

The role of a striker was not one which required extensive experience or skill, but physi-

cal fitness and the ability to follow direction. The hammer blows of the striker(s) were di-

rected by the master smith who struck the metal in the area he wished to be manipulated. 93 The striker(s) would swing in time with the master smith’s blows as well as those of their

fellow strikers. This particular technique is demonstrated in a Roman relief sculpture de-

picting Hephaestus at his anvil forging Achilles’ shield with the help of three sledgeham-

mer-wielding strikers (Figure 29). The general consensus when discussing the topic of

strikers with modern blacksmiths was that each striker had the capability to increase the

speed of production by approximately 30%. The origin of this labour must have varied

across different cultures from

slaves and war-prisoners to

apprentices and paid labour-

ers. Since strikers were only

needed for the portions of the

project which required large

quantities of iron to be Figure 29: Hephaestus and three strikers forge Achilles’ shield. Sim 2012:46. moved, they could fulfill other roles while the blacksmith was completing tasks of greater

expertise. These could include forging billets into more manageable bars, forging the ac-

coutrements for arms (quillons and pommels), as well as assembling and finishing arte-

facts.

3.5) Traditions in Byzantine Metallurgy

The metallurgical technology and techniques possessed by the Byzantines are

mostly unknown to us due to a lack of archaeological evidence and technical treatises.

What we are able to ascertain about Byzantine technologies can be observed through gen-

eral trends in the development of metallurgical traditions from the mosaic of cultures 94 which influenced the Byzantine world. Chief among the traditions which helped to shape

those of the Byzantines were the Romans. Byzantine metallurgical tradition was undoubt-

edly an heir to Roman metallurgy, and much of this technology must have carried over to

the Byzantine East. An overview of both Avar and Arab metallurgical traditions will also

provide some context for their Byzantine contemporaries as well as illustrate the changes

in metallurgical technologies succeeding the Roman West.

3.5a) The Development of Smelting Technologies

The shaft variety of bloomery furnace repre-

sents the most likely candidate for Byzantine smelting.

Until the development of the blast-furnace (fifteenth

century), the bloomery shaft furnace was pervasive

throughout Europe and Asia. The shaft furnace was

the primary furnace of the Roman world. A large

group of Roman furnaces – with an interior diameter

of 1.2 metres – discovered at Laxton, (Northampton-

shire, England) as well as those discovered at Ash-

wicken, Norfolk demonstrate the use of a slag-tapping Figure 30: Reconstructed Roman furnace based on discoveries at Laxton. shaft furnace. The use of the bloomery shaft furnace is Crew 1998.

also observed in Avar metallurgical tradition. Archaeological remains of a large industrial

metallurgical complex dating from the seventh-eighth centuries in the Pannonia region of

Hungary has brought to light the remains of twenty bloomery furnaces along with 425 re-

lated objects (Török et al 2015: 229). Three distinct styles of smelting furnace character- 95 ized the seventh to tenth centuries in Hungary. The first of these, the Nemesker furnace,

was a truncated-cone shaft furnace standing approximately 70-100 centimetres in height,

approximately 55 centimetres wide at its base and 15 centimetres wide at the top of the

shaft (Gömöri and Török 2002:375). A breast panel – a clay panel which could be re-

moved from the side of the furnace – of approximately 30 centimetres in height and 35

centimetres in width allowed for the bloom to be removed without destroying the furnace.

The tuyère was slotted directly into the breast panel. A slag pit was dug directly in front

of the furnace to allow the viscous slag to be tapped during smelting. Finds at the Somo-

gyfajsz site in Hungary have produced a large quantity of raw blooms from the smelting

operation. Based on these finds, Gömöri suggests an average bloom size of approxi-

mately 2.5kg, a much smaller figure than that apparently achieved by the Romans (Tyle-

cote et al 1971). This would be further reduced through the consolidation process which

removes both slag inclusions as well as ferrous material. The second style – the Fajsz fur-

nace – was fundamentally similar to the Nemesker, the only addition being that it was

built into workshop pits. By the eleventh century the Imola furnace was developed, a

modification upon the earlier Fajsz style. All three styles share similar dimensions being

approximately 70-80 centimetres tall, 35-50 centimetres for the hearth diameter and 15-

20 for the throat (Nerantzis 2009:70). The difference in the style is in the use of a slag pit.

The later Imola furnace did not utilize a slag pit, as it was a lower viscosity slag which

was not tapped (Nerantzis 2009:70).

The use of the shaft furnace by both the Avars and Romans points towards a wide-

spread tradition in the Mediterranean and Near East, and helps to substantiate its candi-

dacy for use by the Byzantines. A late Byzantine (fourteenth to fifteenth century) 96 smelting furnace discovered at Angistro in Macedonia also points towards the use of a

shafted furnace (Nerantzis 2009b:449). It was made of a combination of stones, clay, and

tempered with slag, baked clay and rubble (Nerantzis 2009b:448). Nerantzis (2009b:449)

suggests that, “Assuming a mean fuel to ore ratio of 3:1 for the Angistro furnace it could

be estimated that the charge consisted roughly 2.4 m³ of fuel and 0.8 m³ of ore. Given

that the volume of products i.e. the iron bloom and the by-products i.e. the slag and ashes

should be proportional to the initial charge so that principles of mass equilibrium could

be fulfilled, approximately 0.8 m³ of iron was gained per each smelt.” The quantity of

iron within the 0.8 m³ would be largely dependent on the quality of ore.

A late Roman (late fifth-sixth century) metallurgical workshop discovered at Ga-

lerius’ Palace (Gamzigrad – Romuliana) in eastern Serbia suggests that the shafted

bloomery furnace was not the

only furnace in use (Živić 2009).

What remains of those discovered

at the site were constructed of

bricks and clay, though no upper

registers were preserved to height

(Figure 31). What is especially Figure 31: Cross section of one furnace discovered at Gamzigrad – Romuliana interesting is the production and Živić 2009:200.

use of cast-iron at the site. The furnaces at Gamzigrad – Romuliana therefore do not rep-

resent standard bloomery furnaces but domed casting furnaces, a technological tradition

previously thought to be unknown in this period (Živić 2009:205).

Experimentation in Roman furnaces has proved useful in estimating bloom sizes. 97 Experiments by Tylecote et al (1971) in a reconstructed furnace based on those discov-

ered at Ashwicken, demonstrated that the production of blooms from 3.8kg to 6.5kg in

weight was possible in such a furnace. Fifty kilograms of siderite, which had been par-

tially roasted, was charged into the furnace over 12 hours, consuming a total of 40kg of

charcoal in the process. Experimentation by Crew (1998) in a reconstructed furnace

based on those uncovered at Laxton demonstrated that much larger blooms could also be

produced (Figure 30). Over the course of 24 hours 500kg of ore was charged into the fur-

nace consuming 600kg of charcoal and producing a bloom of 100kg. Consolidating a

bloom of such size would have posed a number of difficulties. If such blooms were pro-

duced they must first have been cut into smaller, more manageable sizes for consolida-

tion. Experiments by Sim (2012:55) demonstrate the increased yield and reduced time

investment provided by consolidating smaller portions of a bloom. Seven Roman billets

discovered at the legionary fortresses of Strageath and Newstead – ranging in size from

5.7kg to 7.4kg – provide some information on the steps which followed the initial pro-

duction of a bloom (Sim 2012:58). Billets of this size would suggest the production of

blooms up to three fourths larger than the size of the billet, though this is by no means a

reliable equation and some billets may have been forged from more than one bloom (Sim

2012:57-58).

It is likely that the system of billet production and purchase practiced by the Ro-

mans was also familiar to Byzantine craftsmen, both imperial and thematic. Furthermore,

it is also probable that production and consolidation of iron blooms occurred as part of

the same constituent. The consolidated bloom might then be taken to the closest centre

for further processing into billets. Microscopic analysis of one particular sample of cor- 98 roded steel (IN 102, C 4116) discovered at the late Roman and early Byzantine city of

Nikopolis, Bulgaria (450-600) was preserved well enough to classify as part of a billet.

This fragment of high-carbon steel, found in context with smithing slag, suggests that

bloom consolidation was occurring, though Salter (2007:301-305) denies that any smelt-

ing was taking place at Nikopolis (due to the lack of smelting slag). From a logistical

standpoint, transporting billets is a far more efficient use of resources than transporting

raw bloom, a result of the significant weight reduction which occurs during consolida-

tion. One forging slag sample (CS264) discovered at Sagalassos dating from the late

Roman to early Byzantine period (fifth to seventh centuries) may also suggest the pres-

ence of bloomsmithing at the site (Eekelers et al. 2016:1080). Both within the confines of

the city and in its peripheral regions, evidence of smelting operations has also been dis-

covered through the first to seventh centuries (Eekelers et al. 2016:1074).

Purchasing iron in billet form allowed the blacksmith (or his strikers) to produce

bars in accordance with the size and shape required for the object being forged. The aver-

age billet size based on those discovered in Scotland was 6.7 kilograms (6700 grams).

The De Cerimoniis records that 10,000 litrai of iron were given to the archon of the ar-

mouries for the production of 4000 blades of the so-called chevaux-de-frise (DC 674.2-

4). Using Moffat and Tall’s (2012:831) interpretation of the tenth century litrai – 320g –

this might indicate the purchase of some 478 billets (10,000lt x 320g = 3,200,000g,

3,200,000g / 6700g = 477.6 billets). Alternatively, since the iron referenced in this in-

stance is stated as coming “from the armoury,” it is also possible that it constituted bars

which had already been shaped to size.

99 3.5b) The Development of Forging Technologies

The relative abundance of archaeological, historical, and artistic evidence relating

to Roman blacksmithing, especially in the first and second centuries, has allowed for a

detailed reconstruction of the techniques and technologies available (Sim 2012:47-50,

Mikhail 2001:294). Available tools included a variety of shafted hammers, sledgeham-

mers, iron and stone anvils, tongs, swages, cuts, punches and fullers. Roman anvils –

which could weigh as much as 50kg – were square or rectangular in shape and made of

iron, though some stone anvils were also utilized (Sim 2012:47-50).

Some of the techniques employed by Roman blacksmiths can be inferred through

metallographic analysis of finished iron and steel artifacts. Techniques such as forge

welding, pattern welding, quenching, and possibly tempering were all exploited in the

production of Roman arms (Pliny. Natural History. 34.41, Bishop and Coulston

2006:241-242, Fulford et al. 2004). It is also clear that Romans metallurgists of the first

century understood secondary carburization and used this technique to modify the carbon

content of iron (Bishop and Coulston 2006:241).

Excavations at the Avar site of Zamárdi have uncovered the remains of a promi-

nent metallurgical workshop dating to the seventh-ninth centuries. Charcoal kilns, open

air hearths, 100 ore roasting pits, and 19-20 bloomeries point towards a workshop of

some importance. Also discovered at the site were a plethora of iron artefacts. Metallo-

graphic analysis provides some indication of the techniques used. Török et al. (2015)

suggest that the majority of artefacts discovered at the site were low-carbon content

wrought iron, and only two knives demonstrate the microstructure of iron which had been

quenched (Török et al. 2015:234-235). Finds of workshops in the Pannonia region of 100 Hungary seem to suggest that both smelting and smithing operations were conducted in

the same area (Török et al 2015:229). Analyzing the archaeological remains of Avar

weaponry, in particular edged weapons and polearms, Csilky (2015:48) was able to draw

some conclusions on the forging technology utilized by the Avars. He suggests that the

Avars demonstrate a clear understanding of techniques such as forge- and pattern-weld-

ing, as well as quenching (Csilky 2015:49).

Due to a pervasive historical interest in the production of weapons, and especially

swords, Arab sources provide our best evidence for arms production through the ninth to

twelfth centuries. The technical treatise, On swords and their kinds, written by the Arab

philosopher al-Kindī (801-870), describes the techniques used in the production of

swords (arranged by their geographical and cultural origin). Kindī also provides technical

details on types of iron and steel both naturally occurring and artificially produced used

in the production of swords (al-Kindī(b) 5-7). His treatise is particularly relevant because

of the manner in which the information was compiled by al-Kindī. Rather than relying on

previous historical knowledge it appears that he sought out skilled tradesmen of his time,

probing them for technical details on the production of swords (Hoyland and Gilmour

2012:7). The relationship between military technologies of the Byzantine and Arab world

and the mutual influence garnered through persistent warfare makes Kindī’s treatise all

the more relevant (Nicolle 2002a:299-325).

Kindī begins his treatise with an overview of iron and steel. He makes a clear dis-

tinction between “mined” and “unmined” iron (al-Kindī(b) 5-7). Hoyland and Gilmour

(2012:51) believe this distinction refers to iron or steel which, (1) has been produced di-

rectly through the bloomery process and (2) that which has been modified through some

form of secondary process (i.e. secondary carburization, crucible steel). Within the 101 category of “mined” iron, Kindī sub-divides soft (narmāhan) and hard (shāburqān) types, a distinction which undoubtedly refers to the variable carbon contents present in the iron

produced through the bloomery process. He indicates that narmāhan is not a desirable

iron for the production of swords because it cannot be quenched – alluding to iron with a

carbon content of 0.3% or below – and that under extreme stress it might “sit” (al-

Kindī(b) 12). Though the use of the term “sit” here is unclear, it is likely that this refers to

the tendency of low-carbon alloys to deform rather than break under stress (possibly re-

ferring to the rolling of a blade edge, or bending of the entire sword). Kindī makes it clear

that the use of shāburqān, likely a very high carbon content steel or even cast-iron, is

likewise not favourable for swords for two reasons: (1) it does not quench evenly due to

veins of soft iron within, and (2) it is too brittle and is likely to break under extreme stress

(al-Kindī(b) 11-12). He goes on to explain that both narmāhan and shāburqān can be

fused to create a composite sword blade known as a murakkab, achieved by forge weld-

ing iron of different compositions within the blade (seemingly referring to both pattern-

and non-pattern-welded swords).

Within the “unmined” category, Kindī designates fūlādh as the purest form of

steel, and the choice metal for the production of swords. Kindī suggests that to produce

fūlādh, wrought iron and white cast iron must be enclosed within a crucible, with the ad-

dition of an unnamed ingredient, and brought to molten temperatures. Two later treatises,

those by Arabic authors Bīrūnī (1048) and Tarsūsī (twelfth century), both describe the

process of producing crucible steel by combining magnesia or manganese dioxide (likely

powdered) with wrought iron and white cast iron within a crucible. It is likely that

Kindī’s ingredient was the same. The addition of either elements would serve to render 102 the sulphur present in the cast-iron – which causes brittleness – benign by the formation

of manganese sulphide (Hoyland and Gilmour 2012: 51-53). The steel produced through

such a process is of a high carbon content and extremely well suited for use in swords

being both hard and flexible.

Kindī makes explicit reference to the Byzantines on several occasions throughout

his treatise. He expressly describes Byzantine swords as being comprised entirely of nar-

māhan, or wrought iron (al-Kindī(b) 36). It is unclear to what degree Kindī and the

sources with which he conferred were familiar with Byzantine metallurgy. The tenth cen-

tury Iranian author Muhammad ibn Ahmad al Bīrūnī (born 973) suggests that Byzantine

swords were comprised entirely of shāburqān or hard steel, contradicting the claim of

Kindī (Bīrūnī 248-249). It is unlikely that within the century between Kindī and Bīrūnī’s

treatises, Byzantine metallurgists had entirely shifted from the use of wrought iron in the

production of swords to the use of steel. It is much more likely that the truth falls some-

where in between. Due to the expense of producing steel (usually involving a secondary

process), it is unlikely that munition swords – those churned out in a time of campaign

preparation (i.e. the 5000 listed in the DC 669.14-19, 676.13) – were comprised entirely

of steel. It is equally as unlikely that the Byzantines were not aware of the beneficial

properties of steel, its production, and its use in weaponry and armour. Archaeological re-

mains found within imperial territory and dating to the tenth century suggest that Byzan-

tine metallurgists may have produced weaponry of iron and steel composite construction

(Jiří and Jiří 2006). Those soldiers who could afford the extra expense of more elabo-

rately constructed equipment would certainly have taken advantage of the improved

properties of steel where available. In regards to disposable weaponry such as arrowheads

or caltrops, they were almost certainly constructed of wrought iron as a result of their dis-

posable nature and cold-worked to improve their hardness (Waldbaum 1983:184-185).

A corpus of alchemical texts (four of which are attributed to Zosimos of Pa- 103 nopolis, c. A.D. 300), surviving in three medieval manuscripts, compiled during the ninth

or tenth centuries – possibly by Constantine VII – makes brief mention of some ferrous

metallurgical techniques, with particular emphasis on the production of bladed weapons

(Mertens 1995:209, 222). The author devotes some attention to the variable processes of

quenching, including submerging the “glowing” object directly into water (or a solution

made of crushed goat horn) and cooling the object with a dampened wool cloth. A sword,

it is said, will be rendered sharp from the quench (Alchemy 5.3-4). It should be noted that

quenching iron with a carbon content below 0.4% does not yield any benefits, thus sug-

gesting the use of a higher carbon wrought iron or steel. The author goes on to discuss the

production of “Indian” iron through a process which resembles the Wootz process (a

method of producing crucible steel with a carbon content of 1-1.5% typically attributed to

India).

The anonymous treatise suggests that to produce Indian iron, “soft iron” – refer-

ring to wrought iron – and organic materials such as the bark of palm fruits were to be

added to a crucible and brought to “melting” temperatures (Alchemy 5.3-4). The transi-

tion from a BCC to an FCC

lattice would have facilitated

absorption of the carbon –

which was present in the or-

ganic materials – into the

iron. The goal of this process

was to produce high-carbon

steel from a lower carbon Figure 32: Ivory carving depicted Adam and Eve working a forge from alloy. The use of the phrase the 10th-11th century. Made in Constantinople. Cleveland Museum of Art “melting” here is slightly unclear, though likely represents a confusion in terminology. If

iron is brought to liquid, or melting temperatures (approximately 1535 ºC), the result- 104 ant product would have been cast-iron rather than high-carbon steel. It is unlikely that

cast-iron would be a desired product of a secondary carburizing process. Despite this dis-

crepancy the Byzantines did in fact understand and practice the production of steel.

Two carved ivory casket panels dating from the tenth to eleventh centuries pro-

vide some artistic interpretation of a Byzantine smithy, though the information portrayed

is mostly circumstantial and does not preserve the technical details of a work such as

Kindī’s. Both panels depict Adam and Eve labouring at a forge (Figures 28 and 32). The

equipment represented in the carvings include bellows, an anvil (presumably iron), a

shafted hammer, and tongs. The bellows utilized here are of wooden and leather (or tex-

tile) construction with multiple chambers forming a sort of truncated cone. These bellows

were powered by hand; by depressing the chambers inwards, oxygen was forced from the

chambers through the tuyère and into the forge. Though it is theoretically possible that a

blacksmith could power his own bellows, it is much more likely that they were powered

by an apprentice, helper, or slave. In both depictions, Eve assumes the role of the bellow

operator and fire-tender. The forge depicted in Figure 32 is a simple open-hearth charcoal

forge utilizing forced draught. The forge depicted in Figure 28 is more contained than

that of Figure 32, with a single opening in the front of the forge to place the object

(Kalavrezou 1997: 234-235).

3.6) Conclusions

There are many difficulties presented by the lack of direct evidence for Byzantine

metallurgy. Though much of Byzantine metallurgical tradition remains unknown, infor-

mation from the mosaic of cultural traditions which interacted and influenced the Byzan-

tine world can help to fill these voids. We can postulate that Byzantine traditions

continued to develop from their Roman roots alongside those of neighbouring and foreign

cultures. The use of the shaft furnace for example represents a larger tradition in the 105 Mediterranean and Near East, one which saw this specific form of technology used

amongst widespread geographical and cultural ranges. Technologies such as forge-weld-

ing, pattern-welding, and secondary carburization which were widespread in the Roman

world of the first and second centuries are difficult to observe in any Byzantine context.

We can surmise that many of these technologies would have been understood by the

Byzantine smith of the tenth century, as they were to both the contemporary Arabs and

Avars. It is difficult to fully trust accounts such as al-Kindī’s or Bīrūnī’s who treat the

Byzantine world as a monolith. Access to quality arms and armour which utilized the ad-

vantageous properties of both wrought iron and steel was more likely a question of the

personal wealth of the purchasing soldier than any deficiencies in the skill of Byzantine

smiths.

The relationship of constituents and producers in the Byzantine arms production

industry of the tenth century is complex and dynamic. The interactions of charcoal pro-

ducers, miners, smelters, imperial and thematic blacksmiths, and transporters are ambigu-

ous, as is to what degree the state played a role in overseeing these industries.The next

chapter will attempt to better illuminate much of the elusive arms production industry

through analysis of primary and secondary literature.

106 Chapter 4: Logistical Systems in Arms Production

4.1) Introduction

The purpose of this chapter is to establish a framework for the administrative sys-

tems present in the arms production industry of the tenth century, including the extraction

of both mineral and arboreal resources, the production of charcoal, the smelting of ore,

and the manufacture and transport of armaments. Considerable scholarly attention has

been devoted to understanding the logistical operations of the Byzantine military (see

Haldon 2000, 1999, Oikonomidès 1988, Treadgold 1995). This is especially true in re-

gards to soldier payment and food provisioning. Other systems have received less atten-

tion. The paucity of middle Byzantine sources which are necessary to illuminate the

complex arms production industry has largely contributed to the lack of scholarly atten-

tion. To address the often murky administrative systems of the tenth century, we must

look to the large corpus of late Roman literature for inspiration, and in particular the judi-

cial collections produced under the reign of emperors Theodosius II (408-450) and Justin-

ian I (527-565). Though far removed from the middle Byzantine period, these codices

provide some indication as to the structures and laws in place which preceded, and were

foundational for, middle Byzantine administration.

4.2) Judicial Literature

4.2a) Codex Theodosianus

The Codex Theodosianus (Code of Theodosius) is a compilation of laws and de- 107 crees from the time of Constantine I in 313 to its completion under the reign of Theodo-

sius II in 438. The 16 book constitution was promulgated in the Senate of both Rome and

Constantinople. The text itself survives in a number of manuscripts, though books 6-16

are better represented (Matthews 2000:87). The Codex Theodosianus was not based on an

existing judicial corpus but was a collection of primary sources from across the empire

(Matthews 2000:12). Following the completion and promulgation of the Codex Theo-

dosianus, and initially at the behest of Theodosius, a collection of individual laws was

produced from 438 to 468 known as the Novels. The Codex Theodosianus deals explicitly

with the regulation of state resources and in particular levies of charcoal and the extrac-

tion of iron ore (CTh 10.19.3, 10.22.2, 11.16.15, 18). The provisions of the Theodosian

Code would eventually become the foundation for the Codex Justinianus of the following

century.

4.2b) Corpus Juris Civilis

The Corpus Juris Civilis refers to the sixth century anthology of laws and decrees

commissioned by emperor Justinian I. The corpus was comprised of four separate works:

the Codex Justinianus (otherwise known as the Codex Constitutionum, promulgated in

529, revised in 534), Digesta (530-533), Institutiones (533), and Novellae Constitutiones

Post Codicem (Novels, 534-565) (Troianos 2012:125-129). The Codex Justinianus – built

on the foundation of the Codex Theodosianus – was commissioned by emperor Justinian

shortly after his ascension to the throne in A.D. 527. It was divided into 12 books dealing

with a wide variety of secular and religious matters. The exploitation of mineral resources

is explicitly referenced several times throughout the Codex Justinianus, indicating both 108 state and private activity (though it should be noted these provisions are carried over from

the Codex Theodosianus) (CJ 11.7.1, CTh 10.19.3). Novel 85 (539) of the Novellae Con-

stitutiones Post Codicem and the Codex Justinianus (11.10) provide our most comprehen-

sive look at regulations for the ownership and manufacture of arms in the late Roman

Empire. The provisions of Novel 85 indicate that the state held a monopoly over the pro-

duction of arms throughout the empire. According to Novel 85, only those who had been

sanctioned by the state were legally able to produce and sell arms, “As we want men to

be exempt from such manner of death, we direct that no private person shall manufacture

arms, but they shall be made only by those employed in the factories of arms, called ar-

mories; and they shall only manufacture them, but shall not sell them” (Novel 85). If

unauthorized production of arms was discovered, all armaments were to be confiscated

and brought to the armouries in Constantinople. Brunt (1975) highlights a number of is-

sues regarding weapon and armour ownership which seemingly conflict with the state’s

interest. For example, this would cripple the ability for the rural peasantry– who were

often subject to raiding – to defend their homesteads without military intervention; it also

limited the capacity for hunting. It is difficult to assess to what degree such codified laws

were adhered to and enforced by the state. Through the Greek redaction of the Corpus

Juris Civilis known as the Basilika (ninth century), the provisions of Justinian remained

the customary “law of the land” for the political existence of the Byzantine Empire (Chit-

wood 2017:3).

4.2c) Byzantine Law

A program of updating and modernizing late Roman law was begun under the 109 reign of the “Macedonian Emperors,” beginning with Basil I. The first of such texts was

the Eisagoge, comprised of 40 titles primarily regarding legal affairs of the church. Provi-

sions in the Eisagoge called for the separation of church and state, concepts which had

been indivisible since the time of Constantine I (Troianos 2012:151-155). This marked a

trend of increasing secularization in the study and practice of law through the reign of the

Macedonian Emperors (Chitwood 2017:13). The second major attempt at codifying

Byzantine law was issued by Leo VI in the form of 113 Novellae, primarily dealing with

ecclesiastical matters (Troianos 2012:155). The Novallae were produced sometime before

the production of the Basilika, which was promulgated in 888. The Basilika, produced in

the ninth century by Leo VI (though originally commissioned by Basil I), was in essence

an attempt to update the Corpus Juris Civilis for the contemporary Greek speaking Em-

pire. This included a translation from Latin to Greek, a modernization of Justinianic laws,

and the addition of new laws which had appeared in the years after Justinian (Haldon

2014:10). The corpus contains 60 books, two thirds of which are preserved in several

manuscripts. The production of the Basilika, and the overall program of modernizing Jus-

tinianic law under the Macedonian Dynasty may have been, in some sense, a response to

the claims of the Carolingian elite that the Byzantines were not worthy heirs of Roman

imperial traditions (Chitwood 2017:21). The provisions on arms production introduced

by Justinian were retained in the Basilika (Haldon 2000:293). The so-called Procheiros

Nomos, a law code produced in 907, was intended to replace the earlier Eisagoge of Basil

I. It contains a marked reduction in the number of ecclesiastical provisions when com-

pared with Basil’s Eisagoge, and follows the general trend of increased secularization in

law. Its contents deal primarily with criminal, domestic, and marital law (Troianos 110 2012:156, Freshfield 1928). It is with this collection of texts that we are able to begin to

reconstruct many of the operational conditions of the arms manufacturing industry in the

tenth century.

4.3) Mining in the Empire

The procurement of iron ore rested at the heart of the Byzantine arms production

industry. The extraction and circulation of iron resources were strictly controlled by the

state because of their importance for both military and public use. The ability to produce

sufficient arms relied on a steady supply of iron, and mines were central to providing that

supply. The system which allowed the Byzantine state to exploit its mineral resources in

the tenth century remains unclear. Legislation carried over from the Codex Theodosianus

to Codex Justinianus indicates that there existed both state-controlled mining districts and

privatized exploitation (CTh 10.19.3, CJ 11.7.1). The procuratores metallorum and the

comes sacrarum largitionum were tasked with the administration of these districts (Ed-

mondson 1989:98). For those privately owned metal-rich estates, mining was encour-

aged, and taxation was collected in ore rather than coinage (CTh 11.20.6, 10.22.2, CJ

11.10.1). The trend which seems to emerge from the law codes is one of decentralizing

administration in mining districts in favor of leasing state-owned mines to wealthy

landowners with the resources available to extract ore (Edmondson 1989:98-99). It is

postulated that a similar system of both state and privatized exploitation of mineral re-

sources was operating in the tenth century. This is perhaps best illustrated by the redac-

tion of Theodosian decrees in the Basilika regarding the private ownership of mines

(Vryonis 1962:2). In the tenth century, the bureaux of the eidikon and genikon were the 111 administrative bodies in charge of acquiring the resources needed for arms production,

namely iron ore and charcoal (DC 673.16-674.1-5, Haldon 2000: 293). A series of ex-

emptions from levies of charcoal and iron dating to the eleventh and twelfth centuries in-

dicate that metal-rich estates continued to pay taxes with raw materials (Haldon

2000:293).

The first wave of Arab conquests in the seventh century significantly reduced the

metalliferous lands available for exploitation. The mines which continued in operation

were thus of primary importance. It is possible that the proliferation of fortified sites in

Cappadocia (either directly constructed by the Byzantines or else occupied by them) in

close proximity to mines reflects this change (Cooper and Decker 2012:74). A similar

trend was observed by Edmondson (1989:97) in the later Roman empire, where military

presence was often required in mining districts, both to defend from incursions and to

provide technical assistance.

4.3a) Byzantine Mining in Asia Minor

Within Asia Minor, Cappadocia saw intensive mining while in Byzantine control

due to the dense concentration of iron mines (see http://en.mandem.com.tr/services/iron-

ore/) (Nerantzis 2009:107-113, Pitarakis 1998). The importance of this region was noted

by Pliny the Elder in the first century A.D. (NH 34.41). It continued to be an important

mining region into the fourth century. A letter sent in 372 from Basil the Archbishop of

Caesarea (The Letters 110) to the praetorian prefect Modestos, requests a reduction on

the taxes imposed on miners in the Tauros region (a tax in kind that by the fifth century

required one fifth of production). Two regions of Cappadocia stand out as significant for 112 iron exploitation through Byzantine rule, the band of territory beginning to the west of

Sebasteia and extending east towards Tephrike and Melitene (hereafter the Iron Cres-

cent), and the Bolkardağ. The Iron Crescent represents the largest concentration of iron

deposits in Anatolia. The second region is the Bolkardağ, a portion of the Tauros Moun-

tains beginning approximately 40 kilometres from the Cilician Gates. The heavily

forested region with ample access to water and mineral resources was a hub for mining in

the Byzantine period (Pitarakis 1998:169). The minerals in this region were exploited

from the late Roman period through to at least the eleventh century (Cooper and Decker

2012:70-73, Nerantzis 2009:111, Pitarakis 1998:149). Survey work by Pitarakis

(1998:170) identified some 800 late Roman and Byzantine precious and base-metal

mines through this region.

Central to these iron-rich regions of Cappadocia was Caesarea, where an estab-

lished late Roman armoury had survived up to the tenth century (James 1988:259). The

position of Caesarea was advantageous for arms production because of its central location

within the network of Cappadocian mines, reducing the resource expenditure of trans-

porting raw ore or iron billets. In the nineteenth century, similar practices were observed

in central Turkey, where ore from Caben Maden was brought to the closest centre for

smelting and consolidation before being transported to Constantinople to be worked into

objects (Cooper and Decker 2012:72).

Outside of Cappadocia, Strabo (Geography 7.3.19), a Roman geographer writing

in the first century A.D., records that several other regions in Asia Minor were exploited

for their mineral resources, including a fertile mining region along the Pontic coast. Min-

ing continued through the region in the Byzantine period (Vryonis 1962:4). Historical ev- 113 idence to support this comes from a tenth century letter from the exile Nicetas document-

ing the smelting of iron-rich

sands from along the banks of the

Hellespont (Nicetas, Letters of

exile 5.14,18-22 as cited by

Pitarakis 1998:144). Bulancak, a

Byzantine mining site dated to Figure 33: Wooden trolley from Bulancak used to transport ore. the 1050 (+/– 75 years), held Pitarakis 1998:163

the preserved remains of a wooden ore trolley used to transport ore, suggesting that min-

ing in this region was ongoing through the middle Byzantine period (Pitarakis 1998:163).

4.3b) Byzantine Mining in the Balkans

Evidence for mining in the Balkans from the seventh to thirteenth centuries is

lacking when compared to that of Asia Minor (Vryonis 1962:12). Edicts preserved in the

law codes of Theodosius and Justinian refer primarily to the lack of labour in Balkan

mines, likely a result of Gothic raiding (Vryonis 1962:12). One edict (370) attempted to

stop Balkan miners from “vagrant wandering” (CTh 10.19.7, CJ 11.7.1-7). Another de-

cree (386) states that those miners who have abandoned their compulsory public duties

were to be dragged back to fulfill them (CTh 1.32.5). Though small-scale raiding likely

affected the productivity of Balkan mines, operations never ceased entirely. Illyricum,

Macedonia, Dacia, Thrace, and Greece all contained metalliferous lands available for ex-

ploitation (Vryonis 1962:12-13).

Historical references to Balkan mining become scarce in the early to middle 114 Byzantine periods. In the thirteenth century, when sources once again begin to discuss

mining in the Balkans, it is evident that those mines which had been exploited in the late

Roman Empire continued to be used (Vryonis 1962:17). Though this does not necessarily

prove continuity through the early and middle Byzantine periods, it certainly presents this

possibility. It is reasonable to assume that operations had not altogether ceased despite a

lack of references to Balkan mining in the historical literature for this period. Macedonia,

an area subject to recent survey, hints at the continuous exploitation of mineral resources

in this region through the middle and especially into the late Byzantine periods (Nerantzis

2009:152-180).

Though Avar, Slav, and Bulgar raiding was an ongoing problem through the early

and middle Byzantine periods, this was nothing new for the inhabitants of the Balkan

Peninsula, who had been subject to Gothic raiding through the fourth century. There is lit-

tle evidence to suggest that the Byzantines had encountered enough resistance to make

mining in the Balkans unprofitable, especially when considering the wealth of mineral re-

sources available.

4.3c) Transportation of Iron

It is likely that, whenever possible, ore would be transported only short distances

before being smelted and consolidated into billets. Short of manufacturing the artefacts at

the mining site, it is at this point where overland transport becomes most efficient. A sec-

ond to late third century industrial complex excavated at Bardown, Wadhurst (East Sus-

sex, England) demonstrates the desire to maintain a close relationship between mining

and smelting contingents (Bird 2016:286). The metallurgical complex was laid out in 115 such a way that mining, furnace construction, ore preparation, and smelting operations

could be carried out within close proximity to each other, limiting the need to transport

raw ore (Cleere 1970: 13-18). Only one charcoal burning area was tentatively identified,

though it can be presumed that it must have been carried out within close proximity (see

infra) (Cleere and Crossley 1985:135, Cleere 1970:15). A lack of evidence for the consol-

idation of blooms at the site might indicate that they were consolidated elsewhere, though

one forging hearth was identified (Cleere 1970:18-20).

A Late Byzantine (thirteenth-fifteenth century) smelting site at Katafyto in Mace-

donia paints a similar picture of close ties between metallurgical operations, where access

to wood for charcoal and mineral resources made it a favourable location for smelting

(Nerantzis 2009:180). Though there are surely exceptions to the generalization that ore

was not transported over long distances, it remains an undesirable circumstance and one

that was more than likely avoided when possible. Land owners who were involved in the

exploitation of mineral deposits also had motivation to optimize their transportation lo-

gistics, though this is a complex system which is not fully understood (i.e. the relation-

ship between miners and smelters).

4.4) Woodland Exploitation in the Empire

4.4a) The Administration of Charcoal Production

Along with mining, the production of charcoal was central to arms manufacture in

the ancient world. Like iron, the Byzantine state had a vested interest in woodland re-

sources both for charcoal production which fueled its arms production industry, as well as 116 construction of architecture and imperial war-ships. The Byzantine state went to great

lengths to protect its woodland resources, attested by the establishment of naval themes

(militarized maritime provinces) with the purpose of defending wooded areas from Arab

incursion (Dunn 1992:262). The laws established by the emperors of the ninth and tenth

centuries which forbade the sale of wood to the Arabs demonstrate the importance with

which they viewed arboreal resources (Dunn 1992:263). To begin to understand how this

industry might be organized, we must once again turn to supplementary material from the

late Roman empire. Evidence in the Codex Theodosianus points towards a system of

state-owned forests and private exploitation, a similar system to that observed with min-

ing. Privately owned estates with arboreal resources were usually subject to levies of

charcoal (Dunn 1992:267). The Codex Theodosianus records a series of exemptions

given to wealthy land-owners on charcoal levies, with the exception that it must be pro-

vided when required for arms manufacture (CTh 10.22.2, 11.16.15, 18).

Similar exemptions are preserved in a number of charters dating from the eleventh

and twelfth centuries, indicating that both charcoal and iron were acquired through levies

administered by the state (Haldon 2000:293). In addition to the use of privatized labour, it

is also implied that the Byzantine state owned large forested regions. The De Cerimoniis

records that during preparations for the 949 expedition, Constantine VII ordered one

ousia (naval team of 108-110 soldiers) to remain behind to cut trees for the coming year

(presumably ones owned by the state) (DC 665.3-4). In the eleventh and twelfth century,

a similar system was likely in place to extract arboreal resources from its population. An-

gareia (corvées), levies, and tax-exemptions likely all played a part in the acquisition of

wood through the Byzantine period (Dunn 1991:269-272). 117 A distinction must be made between woodlands – characterized by forested areas – and scrublands – characterized by low growing shrubs and bushes. Access to woodland regions were especially important for large planks, primarily used in architecture and ship construction. In contrast, scrubland, though of younger growth, could suf- fice for use as firewood and charcoal (Dunn 1992:241). According to both Theophrastus

(History of Plants 5.9 1-6) and Pliny the Elder, charcoal produced from young wood was the preferred fuel source for the smelting of ore (Natural History 14.32). Though this does not necessarily reflect Byzantine sentiment, it demonstrates a willingness to use all manner of arboreal resources and not those we might traditionally associate with extensive exploitation. Despite the conquest of the Arabs beginning in the seventh century, the

Byzantines had access to plentiful arboreal resources within their diminished borders.

4.4b) Production and Transport of Charcoal

Charcoal represents an ideal fuel source for both smelting and forging operations.

The qualities of charcoal made it particularly useful for smelting, where other fuel sources such as coal (which has many impurities such as sulphur) can contaminate the iron during the reduction process, causing the final product to be too brittle for forging

(Sim 2012:25). Since dry wood, even with the addition of a forced draught, cannot attain the required heat for successful smelting, charcoal was regarded as the optimal fuel source for the reduction of ore. Both Theophrastus (History of Plants 5.9.1-6), and Pliny the Elder (NH 14.32) discuss the use of charcoal as fuel for iron production, even considering the beneficial and detrimental qualities present in different species of wood.

Similar to the transport of ore, transporting arboreal resources presented its own 118 complications. The reduction in weight and volume of dry wood during charcoalification

made it more efficient to transport as charcoal (Sim 2012:27). However, this is compli-

cated by the inherent friability of charcoal. Cleere and Crossley (1985:133-135) posit that

there must have been a close geographical relationship between charcoal-makers and

smelters; they suggest that carrying charcoal beyond approximately 5-6 kilometres would

effectively reduce portions of the charcoal to dust. Accounts of charcoal transport beyond

this distance are recorded, but likely not without substantial wastage (Cleere and Crossley

1985:135). For travel over any distance beyond several kilometres it was thus more effec-

tive to transport dry wood rather regardless of the weight implications. Dry wood must

have been brought to within close proximity to smelting sites before being processed.

Mining and smelting sites within wooded regions were therefore the most desirable,

though arboreal resources in the area could be quickly depleted as observed by both

Strabo (Geography 14.6.5.) and Pliny the Elder (NH 34.67, 96).

By its nature, charcoal production leaves little archaeological evidence and so has

remained an elusive aspect of ancient industry. Those that do exist usually preserve in the

form of charcoal kilns, burning platforms, or burning pits though their identification with

charcoal production can be dubious.

4.5) The Development of Arms Production Systems

4.5a) The Late Roman Fabricae

The foundation of arms production in the tenth century was based on the late

Roman model of state armouries developed in the late-third century, known as fabricae 119 (sn. fabrica). The Notitia Dignitatum (List of Offices) provides the most comprehensive

primary evidence for state controlled arms production “factories” in the late-fourth and

fifth centuries (several other sources provide supplemental information, i.e. epigraphic

and one papyrus from Egypt). The Notitia records the location and function of each fab-

rica, and in many cases the armaments produced at each armoury. The fabricae were ad-

ministered by the office of the magister officiorum (Master of the Offices), under the

jurisdiction of the officials known as subadiuvae fabricarum, who were subordinate to

the magister and his deputies (James 1988:273). Individual fabricae were commanded by

the praepositus fabricae whose foreman was known as the primicerius fabricae. The fab-

ricenses – the workers of the fabricae – were tasked with the production of the full

Roman panoply including bows, arrows, swords, spears, and a variety of missile weapons

and defensive equipment (though there is no mention of helmets). James (1988:272)

posits that the adoption of the ridge-style helmet, which is characterized by its ease of

manufacture, was a direct result of the reorganization of arms production under state con-

trol in the late third century. Service in the imperial workshops was considered a militia

(military service) and the fabricenses were of higher station than other imperial artisans

(CTh 10.22.3, CJ 11.10.2). They were legally bound to their work, possibly for a term of

twenty years (CTh 10.22, CJ 11.10, James 1988:279).

Through the late-fourth and fifth centuries the fabricae were distributed in both

the western (20 fabricae) and eastern (15 fabricae) halves of the Empire, organized in the

lists of the Notitia by their diocese (Figure 34). Several large regions are omitted suggest-

ing that there had been no established fabricae within their borders including Spain,

Africa, Peninsular Italy and the Italian Islands, and possibly Britain. Though this may in- 120 James 1988:327. Figure 34: The locations of fabricae . Figure 34:

121 dicate that portions of the lists are missing, as James demonstrates (1988:258-259), it is

much more likely that because of their position with regards to the frontier regions, they

had no need for state armouries. The majority of fabricae were distributed across the

northern and eastern frontier regions, those which held the most strategic significance in

the fourth century (James 1988:262). Of the categories of fabricae listed in the Notitia,

those which produced shields and body armour appear most frequently, distributed evenly

throughout the major frontier zones (ND 9.20-39). The fabricae were not necessarily lo-

cated within close proximity to metalliferous regions where access to ore was abundant,

but near large urban centres and along arterial highways. James (1988:267) supposes that

cities provided the protection required to prevent these important facilities from capture

by enemies. In addition, the infrastructure to support the influx of raw materials and the

transportation of finished armaments were already established in these regions. The man-

power for the newly established fabricae – aside from military blacksmiths – was drawn

from the substantial number of entrepreneurial artisans which were already established in

these communities before the inception of state controlled armouries during the Princi-

pate (James 1988:268).

The De Re Militari provides further insight into the relationship of the fabricae to

the Roman army. Vegetius indicates that each legion had a number of attached workshops

which oversaw the production of its military equipment, and stresses the self-sufficiency

of this system (DRM 2.11). A system of equipment recycling and repairing meant that the

life-cycle of arms and armour was long and new armaments need not be manufactured on

a regular basis (Bishop 1985:8). One Egyptian papyrus dating to the second or third cen-

tury records the activity of a temporary fabrica over the course of two days (P. Berlin inv. 122 6765). Of note is that 100 men were employed in the fabrica, producing equipment such

as “spathae, two sorts of shield, iron plates, bows, and catapult fittings” (Bishop 1985:3).

This number holds possible significance for the labour capacity of the armamenta in the

tenth century and will be explored in further detail in Chapter 5.

Sometime between the composition of the Notitia in the late-fourth or fifth cen-

tury and Justinian’s Novel 85 (c. 534), there are several shifts in administrative structure.

A new bureau known as the scrinium fabricarum appears, which James (1988:273) posits

was in charge of administering supply and production as well as legal matters regarding

the fabricenses (CJ 11.10.6). State control over the manufacture of arms seemingly tight-

ened, and Novel 85 makes it clear that the production of arms in any capacity was the ex-

clusive duty of those employed or sanctioned by the state. Specific mention is made of

those blacksmiths attached to the military (deputati), who are not to manufacture new

arms, but focus their labours on repairs (Novel 85). Arms discovered produced by those

without the explicit consent of the state were to be confiscated for the imperial armouries.

As Brunt (1975) demonstrated, this of course would not stop those intent on purchasing

arms from acquiring them. With the first wave of Arab conquests beginning in the sev-

enth century, many of the fabricae located in the conquered regions were forced to cease

operations. By the sixth century there is mention of a fabrica located in Constantinople,

one which is not mentioned in the Notitia (CTh 10.22.1). In the late-sixth century one (or

possibly two) fabricae was constructed near the Magnaura in Constantinople (Haldon

2000:292). Their location is not surprising in regards to James’(1988:267) postulation

that the fabricae were located amongst urban centres with well established infrastructure

and blacksmithing communities. A number of other late Roman fabricae also likely sur- 123 vived through to the tenth century. These include those at Caesarea, Sardis (see Wald-

baum 1983:184-185), Nikomedia, Adrianople, and Thessaloniki (James 1988:258-259,

Haldon 1984:319).

4.5b) Fabricae of the Sixth Century and Beyond

Though the tenth century brought with it a revitalized interest in military litera-

ture, no equivalent to the Notitia Dignitatum exists for this timeframe. Though Greek

redactions of Corpus Juris Civilis continued to be produced, they were primarily a re-

branding of the Justinianic laws and did not introduce details specific to the tenth century.

Some indication as to the structure of the fabrica system can be supposed through careful

examination of several tenth century sources including the De Cerimoniis, Three Imperial

Treatises, and the Kletorologion of Philotheos. From what we can tell, the system which

appears in the tenth century appears as a logical development from that of the sixth cen-

tury. It is evident that some degree of state control over arms production continued to be

exercised. Two methods of provisioning the army with equipment were observed: (1)

Those imperial fabricae (hereafter armamenta) which had survived the conquests of the

Arabs in the seventh century continued to manufacture arms, and (2) thematic workshops

were commissioned – possibly through corvée labour or additional tax-breaks – to pro-

duce arms, a process overseen by the department of the eidikon or its sub-department the

armamenton (Haldon 2000:291). The loss of imperial territory and subsequent decline of

the late Roman fabricae was likely the catalyst which forced the state to tap labour from

thematic craftspeople to augment production in the armamenta. Similar to the Justinianic

provisions, this method of production allowed the state to control who was sanctioned to 124 manufacture arms.

The commander of the armamenta in Constantinople was known as the archon

tou armamentou. The discovery of a ninth-century seal belonging to the archon Theog-

nostos who had acquired the title of spatharios, attests to the importance of this position

(Haldon 2000:292). By the time the De Cerimoniis was composed, the position of archon

tou armamentou had passed to Joacheim, of the protospatharios rank (DC(a) 673.16,

DC(b) R673). The De Cerimoniis (673.16-674.1-5) indicates that duties of the archon tou

armamentou were similar to those of the

earlier praepositus fabricae, managing the

supply of raw materials – including char-

coal and iron – and production of arms.

The De Cerimoniis also indicates that

under the auspices of the eidikon there

was another armoury known as the “lower

armoury” or naval armoury possibly com-

Figure 35: The integration of the iron artefact industry. manded by a military official known as a Sim 2012:19. katapeno (DC(b) R677, Moffatt and Tall 2012:677). The quantity of equipment provided

by the lower armoury for the 949 expedition is quite substantial (see Chapter 5).

Chapter 44 of the De Cerimoniis (DC 657.10-14) indicates that the strategoi were

the officials tasked with managing the production of armaments in the themes – requisi-

tioned, presumably, from the sanctioned thematic artisans within their jurisdiction. It is

uncertain whether these requisitions were administered through the eidikon or some other

government body. Two examples from the De Cerimoniis record that a number of other 125 officials could also be responsible – the krites of Hellas and the archon of Chrepos (DC

657.11-14). It is unclear how the responsibilities of these thematic officials relate to de-

partment of the armamenton and whether there was any collaboration between the impe-

rial and thematic workshops.

In the late Roman Empire, the process of arms manufacturing began when the

magister militium (Master of the Soldiers), at the beginning of each year, sent returns on

equipment requirements to the bureau of the scrinium fabricarum. These were sent to in-

dividual fabrica to begin manufacturing or releasing equipment (James 1988:274). In the

Notitia, under the heading for the diocese of Italia (9.29), was the fabrica at Lucca. It was

an important sword-making workshop in the third century, and possibly the primary man-

ufacturer or swords for the Italian diocese. Its position – along the road to Padañana, near

the port of Pisa, and relatively close to the iron mines at Elba and Versilia – was

favourable for both import of raw materials and export of finished products. Using Lucca

as an example, Citter (1998:180) demonstrates a hypothetical production chain: (1) min-

eral extraction at Elba and Versilia, (2) shipment of bloom to the port at Campiglia for

billet forging, (3) shipped in billet form to the port at Pisa and transported overland to the

fabrica. The charcoal for the process would be produced from timber on peninsular Val di

Cornia for the mines at Versilia or from timber on Elba. The relationship between miners,

charcoal producers, smelters, and blacksmiths is unclear, though Sim’s figure (Figure 35)

provides a good indication as to the integration of these industries.

A similar system might have been observed in the tenth century. The copyists re-

sponsible for chapters 44 and 45 of the De Cerimoniis may have been drawing their infor-

mation from similar requisitions to those given to the scrinium fabricarum when

compiling their lists of equipment. 126 4.5c) Methods of Production

I postulate that arms produced in the imperial armamenta were likely done so as

part of a team rather than by individual craftsmen from scratch. Tasks such as blank forg-

ing and finishing could be carried out by semi-skilled specialists while the primary pro-

duction of armaments continued. Direct evidence for such production methods is scarce.

One example which seemingly demonstrates this style of concurrent production within a

single workshop comes from an undated tomb at Sardis (possibly fourth century) where

an inscription of the deceased Flavius Chrysanthius demonstrates his occupation as both a

fabricensis and zographos – a painter, possibly of shields (Foss 1979:279-282). Figure

29, that of Hephaestus and the Cyclopes (fulfilling the role of strikers), might also indi-

cate similar division of labour. There is also the possibility that various armament compo-

nents were manufactured and assembled at different workshops. Ricci (1997:253)

suggests that, based on the remains of production materials at the Crypta Balbi (680-700)

in Rome, weapon components such as cross-guards and pommels were being fitted to fin-

ished blades which had been produced elsewhere. Comments on sword manufacture by

Arab polymath Amr ibn Bahr al-Jāhiz (869) demonstrate the complexity of the arms pro-

duction industry in the medieval world:

Before a sword is put on by its wearer or wielded by its bearer, it has passed through many hands and various classes of craftsmen, none of whoms can do an other’s work or excel in it, and indeed would not claim or undertake to do so. For the man who smelts and refines the metal of a sword is other than the one who draws it out into shape; the latter is other than the one who forges it, smoothes the broadside, and adjusts its blade; the latter again other than the one who quenches and sharpens it. Yet another man fits its pommel and rivets the tang in; the one who makes the studs for the tang, the pommel, and the blade is different from the one who carves the wood of the scabbard, and he from the one who tans the leather for it, and the latter from the one who decorates it; and the one who decorates it and fits its tip is different from the one who pierces the holes in its carrying-straps (as cited by Hoyland and Gilmour 2012:6). 127 For thematic workshops, the method of production is difficult to assess based on the variable skill and resources of thematic artisans throughout the empire. Whether or not thematic workshops had the resources to employ strikers, cutlers or general labourers is unclear. Due to the labour investments required in forging blanks and finishing objects we can, at the very least, postulate that efficiency of production was a consideration for both the manufacturer as well as the state in regards to choosing appropriate workshops for large armament requisitions. This will be explored in further detail in Chapter 5.

Transporting arms across the empire by wagon or ship would have incurred significant resource expenditure (illustrated in Chapter 5). Provisions in the Codex Justini- anus (10.11.7) indicate that before the transportation of arms could commence, the

Master of the Offices was to send letters to the Praetorian Prefecture indicating the quantity and type of equipment to be transported so that the necessary number of wagons or ships could be furnished. In the tenth century this responsibility might have fallen to a number of officials, including the strategos, krites or archon. Since the expedition to

Crete in 949 was launched from Constantinople, it supposes that the armaments produced throughout the themes had to be transported to this central location, a significant expenditure for those production centres not centrally located (DC 678.22). It should be noted that not all expeditions launched from Constantinople and equipment could be brought so some other central point for collection. This will be explored further in Chapter 5.

128 4.6) Conclusion

The goal of this chapter has been to shed light on the murky administrative struc-

tures of the tenth century. A large majority of our information necessarily comes from the

late Roman period, simply because it is this period which represents our best chance at

examining continuity (or lack thereof) in industrial practices. The information provided

by the evidence from early periods has been augmented with those sources from the tenth

century. What emerges from the picture painted by both the late Roman and middle

Byzantine sources is that the state maintained a vested interest in arms production, in-

cluding exploitation of both mineral and arboreal resources. The retention of laws pro-

hibiting unsanctioned arms production originally introduced by Justinian (Novel 85) in

the Basilika suggests that it was still relevent. In the tenth century it is clear that the state

maintained control over vital resource rich regions. Labour for state operations was mar-

shalled through the military (as evidenced by the De Cerimoniis 665.3-4), through an-

gareia, as a punishment for criminals and war prisoners, as well as by paid labour (CJ

11.7.1). The exploitation of resources by the state was augmented by private enterprise.

The system operating in the late Roman empire which allowed the state to take advantage

of privatized labour, especially in regards to landownership, was likely still operating in

the tenth century. This system was advantageous because it reduced the need for adminis-

tration that state operations required. The production of arms followed similar principles.

The state armouries located across the empire were under the administration of the arma-

menton. The production capacity of the imperial armouries was augmented by the extrac-

tion of labour from provincial artisans. As suggested by the De Cerimoniis, the strategoi,

the military and civic leaders of the themes were responsible for administering the pro- 129 duction of a predetermined quantity of military equipment from the artisans in his theme

(DC 657.10-14). The distribution of administrative responsibilities to local officials was

key to this operation. Though some inferences can be made, generalities hinted at, and

continuity suggested, understanding arms production in the tenth century is still an under-

developed field.

130 Chapter 5: A Modern Approach

5.1) Introduction

The goal of this chapter is to address the third research question of this thesis:

What were the labour investments of forging ferrous arms for a middle Byzantine army in

preparation for a military expedition in the tenth century? One of the primary roadblocks

which distances us from this question is our lack of information about the middle Byzan-

tine blacksmith, namely the technology available, the organization of workshop produc-

tion, and the labour and skill required in the production of complex iron objects. Within

Byzantine scholarship, the production of weapons and armour on the scale of an individ-

ual workshop has garnered little attention though it is an important aspect of understand-

ing overall military logistics in the tenth century (Haldon 2000:291-294). The lack of

sufficient research limits the interpretations that can be put forth in regards to labour in-

vestments of producing arms. To attack such a problem, answers were sought outside the

realm of traditional scholarship and the choice was made to explore an ethnographic ap-

proach; many modern day blacksmiths have spent hours recreating the techniques, tech-

nology, and objects from across the ancient world. This first-hand experience made them

ideal candidates to address questions of labour investment. The goal was to develop a se-

ries of time frames (ranges and averages) – recorded in hours and minutes – for the man-

ufacture of a selection of Byzantine equipment contingent on the experience of the

interviewees. The expertise and production methods of each artisan was slightly different,

which was reflected in their answers to similar questions. This was an enlightening

process which forced me to accept that a range of variables determined a smith’s ability 131 to produce armaments. Once the time frames had been developed, the next aim was to

apply them to the cargo of the 949 expedition recorded in the De Cerimoniis, and analyze

the results for what they might explain about expedition preparation, production capabili-

ties, and labour implications.

Before moving into the interviews, it was first necessary to develop a comprehen-

sive grasp of the technical and sometimes generalized terminology used to describe

equipment in the middle Byzantine sources. Part of this process was associating specific

construction techniques to sometimes ambiguous terminology. For example, the terms ka-

sidion (helmet) and cheiropsellon zygon (a pair of arm-guards) used in the records of

chapter 45 of the De Cerimoniis are sufficiently generalized so as to make it difficult to

associate them with historical, archaeological, or artistic examples. To address this, the

armaments chosen for the interviews were based on the frequency with which they ap-

peared in the sources in the early- to mid-tenth century. Another stipulation which was

initially placed upon the selected equipment was that it must appear in the cargo of the

949 expedition recorded in the De Cerimoniis. The choice was made to remove this stipu-

lation and broaden the selected equipment to collect as much information as possible (in-

cluding podopsella – greaves – and parameria – single-edged curved swords).

5.2) The Cargo of the 949 Expedition

The lists of equipment for the 949 expedition are recorded in chapter 45 of the De

Cerimoniis. The cargo presents two problems for the exploration of labour investments.

The first, mentioned above, is that specific styles and construction techniques of tenth

century equipment cannot always be reliably associated with the terminology used in the 132 De Cerimoniis. The second is that the compilation process which saw the creation of

chapter 45 of the De Cerimoniis meant that the lists are muddled and the same items ap-

pear repeatedly through several sections. Haldon (2000:263-264) designates these sec-

tions, i through viii: (i) The required equipment both personal and artillery, (ii) the

equipment required from the department of the eidikon, (iii) the equipment required from

the department of the vestarion, (iv) equipment related to ships and naval tackle as well

as specific numbers of artillery (repeated from 1), (v) the costs associated with the re-

quired equipment (though incomplete), (vi) various extra hardware required for the expe-

dition (i.e. bolts, tar, pitch, cables) given to the droungarios of the fleet (admiral), (vii)

valuable clothing used as gifts for foreign leaders and foreign deserters given to the

droungarios, and (viii) another list of items for similar purposes given to the droungarios.

The redactor(s) of these chapters were likely working with multiple sources of in-

formation and copied the lists out several times. Four sections recording the required

equipment in particular provide the most comprehensive information. The sections are in-

troduced as follows (for a discussion on naval vessels dromones, pamphyloi, and ousiaka

chelandia see Appendix to Chapter 5): (1) For the fitting out of 1 dromon (20 sailed to

Crete), (2) For the 6 pamphyloi (though 7 sailed to Crete the equipment for 6 is given),

(3) For the ousiaka chelandia (33 sailed to Crete), and (4) What was dispersed from the

department of the Eidikon for the Cretan campaign (Haldon 2000:336). One particular

section of (4), regarding the equipment given to the droungarios by the lower armoury,

seems to indicate a different set of armaments from those required for the fitting of the

dromones. The use of the term menavlia (669.17) in section (1) and kontaria (676.13) in

(4) seems to indicate that these are different lists. Though the majority of this equipment 133 was likely already in storage and was simply released for the expedition, there is clear in-

dication of the initial fabrication of caltrops specifically for the 949 expedition. Also

under heading (4), the archon and spatharios Joacheim is tasked with the purchase of

charcoal and the production of 500,000 caltrops, 500 single-bladed battle-axes, 200 dou-

ble-bladed battle axes, and 4000 blades for the so-called chevaux-de-frise (DC 673.16-

674.1-5). After examining the lists in detail and removing the overlapping information, I

arrived at the final tallies of required equipment for the expedition, displayed in Tables 1,

2 and 3.

5.3) The Interviews

When sufficient research had been conducted into understanding the morphology

of Byzantine arms and the technologies utilized in their manufacture (Chapters 2 and 3), I

began to formulate questions and reach out to individuals – both local and international –

with experience in forging ancient arms. My intention was to conduct formal interviews

based on a series of questions contingent on my research findings geared towards better

understanding labour investments of producing armaments. The availability of intervie-

wees on the topic of Byzantine arms production was slim, and even slimmer were those

interested in partaking in such interviews. I also quickly became aware that it was much

easier to find interviewees with experience in forging weapons when compared to finding

those experienced in forging armour. This made ascertaining information about certain

pieces of equipment much more difficult. The result was that some equipment was cov-

ered more thoroughly than others in the interviews.

The questions which I developed were designed to fuel open-ended discussions, 134 400 500 200 2000 1600 1000 3000 5000 4000 Totals 500 200 4000 Joacheim Produced by Produced 3000 3000 For the For drouggarios For the For ousiaka For the For pamphyloi For For 400 1600 1000 2000 2000 the dromones blades spears swords ( pelekia ) ( spathia ) ( kontaria ) ( tzikouria ) ( menavlia ) ( xipharion ) Non-disposable offensive equipment listed in the chapter 45 of De Cerimoniis . Non-disposable offensive heavy spears Roman bows trident-spears ( logkodrepana ) Non-Disposable single-bladed axes double-bladed axes sickle-bladed lances ( toxareas Romanias ) Offensive Equipment: chevaux-de-frise ( kontaria meta trivellion ) Table 1: Table

135 2000 4000 Totals 500,000 440,000 500,000 Joacheim Produced by Produced For the For 240,000 droungarios For the For ousiaka For the For pamphyloi 2000 4000 For the For 200,000 200,000 dromones (repeated in list) Disposable offensive equipment listed in the chapter 45 of De Cerimoniis . Disposable offensive Disposable bolts ( myas ) arrows ( sagitai ) arrows caltrops ( trivolia ) caltrops javelins ( riktaria ) Offensive Equipment: Table 2: Table 136 306 524 200 200 600 1000 2090 1000 4400 2290 Totals 200 Joacheim Produced by Produced (not directly For the For droungarios referenced as stiched) 3000 66 330 264 330 For the For ousiaka 60 360 360 For the For needed” pamphyloi “as many as 200 240 200 600 (repeated) 1600 1000 1400 1000 1400 For the For dromones 160 helmets felt caps surcoats surcoats ( kasidia ) ( klivania ) ( epilorika ) ( kamelaukia ) ( autoprosopa ) Lydian shields Lydian stitched shields Defensive equipment listed in the chapter 45 of De Cerimoniis . light mail shirts ( skoutaria rapta ) lamellar corselets lamellar ( lorikia psila logo ) ( cheiropsella zygai ) arm-guards (a pair) standard mail shirts ) ( skoutaria Lydiatika ( hetera lorikia koina ) Defensive Equipment helmets with face-guards Table 3: Table 137 and it was my hope that through a semi-structured dialogue with the interviewees, new

and informative ideas not covered by my initial questions would be raised. This proved to

be fruitful in highlighting new avenues of research which became the topic of further ex-

ploration. Each interview was a learning process and as my understanding of arms pro-

duction techniques and technologies became more adept, I was able to better refine my

interview questions. The final equipment selected to be the focal point of my interviews

was as follows: the spathion (double-edged long-sword), the paramerion (single-edged

curved-sword), the kontarion and menavlion (light and heavy spear-heads), the tzikourion

(single-edged battle-axe), sagitai (arrows, in this context arrowheads), kasidia (spangen-

helm variety of helmet), cheiropsellon zygon (splinted or tubular arm-guards) and

podopsella (splinted or tubular leg-guards). In addition, the figures produced by Sim

through his extensive experimentation on the production of javelins, and caltrops are used

in the current study (Sim 2012:94, 99). Figures for these two weapons were based en-

tirely on experimentation by Sim and did not feature in my interviews.

5.3a) Darrell Markewitz

My first interview was with Darrell Markewitz of Wareham Forge, a professional

blacksmith with over 30 years experience. As his website www.warehamforge.ca states,

“He has been working with forged steel, and producing historic reproductions, since the

late 1970's.” Darrell primarily identifies as a Viking metallurgist and his experience rests

with producing Scandinavian arms as well as conducting historical smelting experiments.

The interview took place at a smelting workshop run by Darrell. Over the course of the

day, I probed him with the questions I had prepared, but the answers were not often what 138 I had expected. Instead of answering my questions Darrell often posed questions of his

own. Instead of providing an estimate on the forging time of a spathion he first asked,

“from which sized bar,” a factor I had clearly not taken into consideration. This is a criti-

cal detail when exploring labour investment and my lack of experience with practical

blacksmithing caused this oversight. Drawing out a suitable iron bar – a term which

refers to lengthening an object while keeping its width consistent – is often the most

labour and time intensive forging process simply because it necessitates the movement of

the most material. The rate at which a skilled blacksmith was able to manufacture equip-

ment would be largely contingent on whether the forging process was done by one indi-

vidual until completion as suggested by James (1988:275), or multiple individuals

working concurrently. If iron bars suitable for the production of a selection of armaments

are available – having been purchased with these dimensions or more likely shaped by

semi-skilled labourers – then the speed of forging is increased dramatically. Another

stream of research which was highlighted by this interview was the relationship between

constituents in the arms production industry and especially those between smelters and

blacksmiths. Was the production of blooms and their consolidation into billets part of the

same process? Were billets purchased by the state for the production of armaments with

quasi-standardized dimensions as was likely the case in the Principate (Sim 2012:60).

These were the questions which I began to explore as a result of Darrell’s expertise.

5.3b) Timothy Dawson

My second interview was with Dr. Timothy Dawson (www.levantia.com.au).

Dawson (2007a, b, 2002, 1998) has published extensively on the military equipment of 139 the middle Byzantine period contributing to modern understanding of the technical termi-

nology used in Byzantine sources associated with armaments, their dimensions, and pro-

duction techniques. In addition, he is an avid recreationist and hobby blacksmith. His

combination of practical forging experience and knowledge of Byzantine military equip-

ment made him an excellent candidate for the exploration of labour investments. Armed

with the information provided to me through my previous interview, I was able to refine

my questions to reflect a more thorough understanding of the processes involved in arms

production. My interview with Dawson helped to clarify the production techniques used

in a variety of armaments and his continued personal correspondence has proved invalu-

able.

5.3c) Robb Martin

My third interview was with Robb Martin of Thak Ironworks (thak.ca). Robb has

been a professional blacksmith for 30 years and has forged an incredible array of arms

and armour in the style of various periods. Many of these weapons and armour closely re-

semble those used by the tenth century Byzantine military including similar double-edged

long-swords similar in shape and dimensions to the spathion, helmets of the spangenhelm

variety, socketed spear-heads, crescent axe-heads, arrowheads, and splinted and tubular

arm- and leg-guards. In addition to his range of experience in forging armaments, he has

also kept detailed records of the labour involved in each project. Robb kindly allowed me

access to his well-stocked workshop where my forging experimentation began. After

months of basic forging, I was able to partake in a week long course on European sword

forging. The design of my sword was based on the existing evidence for middle Byzan- 140 tine spathia. Involving myself in the practical side of arms production was enlightening

and helped me to understand the stages of manufacture and the labour involved in each

stage. The pace at which the course progressed necessitated the use of modern power

tools and thus excluded those parts of the process as rigorous experimentation. Those

parts of the forging process which were done by hand (i.e. bevelling, shaping the tip) pro-

vided useful analogous information to corroborate with the time-frames given in the in-

terviews though are not included in the final figures. Regardless, experimentation

provided me with an overall sense of the labour required for the manufacture of a

spathion and helped me develop the three-stage process examined below.

5.3d) David Sim

My fourth and final interview was with Dr. David Sim, a Roman experimental ar-

chaeologist with over 25 years of experience. Sim has published extensively on the pro-

duction of Roman military equipment. He is both an experienced scholar on the types and

construction techniques of Roman armaments as well as a skilled blacksmith and recre-

ationist. Sim’s (2012) volume on the Roman iron industry represents a synthesis of his

experimentation beginning in the early 1990’s. His experimentation has been conducted

within rigourous parameters in order to produce a set of standardized results (Sim

2012:67). I came upon the work of Sim late in the writing process and arranged for an in-

terview immediately. His knowledge and expertise on exploring labour investments

through experimentation was instrumental in structuring the information developed through the interviews into the three-stage process.

141 5.4) Considerations for Arms Production

5.4a) Division of Labour and the Three-Stage Process

Before discussing analysis of the results, some key concepts require illustration in

greater detail. In particular, the differences between labour hours and time-elapsed must

be clarified. The Chart 1: Concurrent labour hours over a 35 hours period for the production of a gladius based on Sim (2012:94). notion of labour Labourer 1 Bar Forging 4:46 hours can be ex-

Blacksmith 2:00 plained as the Skilled Forging

total number of Hours Labour Semi-Skilled Cutler 30:00 Finishing

hours that have 0 5 10 15 20 25 30 35 Time Elapsed been invested in

the production of an object. This does not necessarily mirror the time elapsed, as the

labour hours of any number of individuals may run concurrently to each other. Time-

elapsed represents the amount of chronological time which has run its course from the be-

ginning of production to the end. Without understanding and accounting for concurrent

activity, it is much more difficult to arrive at an elapsed time for the overall process, and

without detailed technical sources from the middle Byzantine period, we can only make

logical assumptions. If tasks which required only semi-skilled labour – forging blanks

and finishing – are assumed to have run concurrently to the highly-skilled production of

primary armaments, then we are able to discern a closer approximation of the time

elapsed from the beginning of production to the end. Chart 1 displays how a workshop

might have several stages operating concurrently. This chart is not based on initial pro- 142 duction, but assumes that a bar had already been forged for the skilled blacksmith to work

with. It also assumes that a forged sword was ready for finishing by the cutler. Both

labour hours and time elapsed will be key concepts in the current study, and examined

both as distinct but related entities.

An additional note is that the total hours of labour invested into the production of

equipment is not reflected by the figures produced in these interviews. Rather, the results

demonstrate the possible labour hour investments of a single constituent in the line of

production that spans mining, to charcoal production, to smelting, transportation, fabrica-

tion, and distribution. This study represents a single milestone in this complex industry

and should not be taken as a holistic representation of the labour hours involved in arms

production.

The basic model of weapon production can be segregated into three primary

stages. The three-stage process is a general outline, and the individual experience and

forging techniques of each smith interviewed did not necessarily reflect this style of man-

ufacture; there is no single correct way to produce an armament. The first step in this

process is to forge a suitable blank for the current project. Depending on the dimensions

of the final product, this can be an onerous process which requires large quantities of iron

to be manipulated. Though it may be labourious, forging blanks does not require exten-

sive smithing experience, and can be done effectively by newcomers to the trade. The

second step is to forge the object itself from the blank, whether that be a sword, spear, or

axe. The techniques involved (i.e. forge-welding, pattern-welding, bevelling) in forging

complex iron objects such as weapons requires proficiency as a smith, and thus is only ef-

ficiently carried out by an experienced blacksmith. The figures provided by the partici- 143 pants were based on the second stage of production. The final step, and the most labour-

intensive is that of finishing. The finishing stage requires grinding, polishing and assem-

bling the weapon. The skill required to finish a weapon was low, and could be carried out

by a semi-skilled cutler alongside the complex forging carried out by the master black-

smith. Estimates from experimentation and personal communication with the intervie-

wees suggest that finishing time is often two to three times longer than that of initial

fabrication. This was also corroborated by experimentation by Sim (2012:94).

The production of armour can be segregated into similar stages, though there is

larger variablity due to the diversity of armour styles utilized in the tenth century (lamel-

lar, mail, splinted-bronze or wooden greaves). Since the production of iron helmets of the

spangenhelm variety as well as tubular and splinted iron arm- and leg-guards most

closely resemble the stages in production of weaponry, they feature most prominently in

the current research. Similar to the forging of a blank, the first stage in the production of a

spangenhelm is to hammer a quantity of iron cut from a billet into a series of thin metal

sheets. Using both hot and cold hammering techniques, these modular sheets are then

forged to shape. The final stage involves riveting the protective iron components of the

helmet together along with leather fittings within the helmet, and finally grinding and

polishing. The production of splinted arm- and leg-guards follows these same stages.

The three-stage process allowed me to display the interview results in a manner

which most logically corresponded to the efficient production of arms. As a result of the

individual preferences of the candidates, some of the answers provided did not incorpo-

rate such segregation. For example, the production time of an arrowhead was not often

given in a three-stage process, but as a total time to completion. Those instances where a 144 total time of completion was given are marked in table 4 as: to complete. This made it

difficult to assess which stages in production may have run concurrently to each other.

Such is the downfall of a method which incorporates modern opinions of ancient practice.

Nevertheless, it reflects the inherent variability in individual blacksmithing styles, corre-

sponding nicely with the variability which could be expected when extracting labour

from thematic artisans throughout a large geographic range, as was the case in the tenth

century.

5.4b) Strikers, Jigs, and Templates

The use of strikers is an important consideration when assessing forging time.

Each additional striker utilized by the blacksmith had the capacity to increase the effi-

ciency of forging by approximately 30% (personal correspondence with Sim, December

2016). It is difficult to evaluate how and when strikers were used, especially when con-

sidering the diversity in skill and resources of craftspeople across the empire from whom

the state was extracting labour. If any standardization was maintained it was more likely

to have been in the imperial armouries, where control over manufacture could be more

regulated. The biggest limiting factor in the use of strikers – beyond acquiring the indi-

viduals to participate – was the size of the project. Larger armaments such as swords

might afford the use of up to three strikers. In contrast, the use of multiple strikers would

be ineffective with objects as small as arrowheads or caltrops. Sim (2012:46) suggests

that three strikers in addition to an experienced blacksmith constitutes an optimal arrangement for the production of personal armaments, though this by no means suggests that such arrangement was used throughout the empire. The figures provided by Dawson and Martin are contingent on the use of a striker, while those of Markewitz and Sim are 145 not (unless specified). This introduces variability into the results, though once again

nicely mirrors that which must have been present throughout the Empire.

In addition to strikers, there are a number of other ways to augment production

capabilities, in particular the manufacture of jigs and templates. Depending on the num-

ber of armaments required by the state, it may have been in the best interest of a thematic

smith to manufacture the implements necessary to increase efficiency. This hinges on a

break-even number, the point at which the time invested in producing helpful implements

is equal to the time saved using them to produce a batch of armaments. In the imperial ar-

mouries, because of the quantity of armaments manufactured, the time spent fabricating

jigs and templates would represent a small investment compared to the amount of time

saved by their use. In contrast, if a thematic smith has only ten swords to produce, he may

come out below the break-even point and find the production of jigs and templates a poor

use of time. It must be stressed that this is a modern interpretation and does not necessar-

ily reflect the reality of Byzantine forging practices, though efficiency in both labour and

resources must have been a consideration.

5.5) Results and Analysis

It is important to note that the results produced through these interviews are esti-

mates. Concrete numbers are very difficult to achieve due to the number of variables

which may affect a process as complex as state-wide arms manufacture (i.e. the variable

skill and resources of blacksmiths throughout the empire). The purpose of this study was

not to end the discussion on labour investments but foster it and take a step towards better

understanding the Byzantine arms production industry. 146 5.5a) Table 4

The values represented in Table 4 constitute the labour hour estimates provided by

each of the artisans interviewed on the forging time of the selected equipment. This repre-

sents stage two of the manufacturing process (object fabrication) and excludes the hours

involved in forging a blank and finishing. Several instances where the values provided

represent total time investments, including blank forging and finishing are indicated as to

complete. The opinions of the participants were built upon an identical set of information

given to each participant on the morphology and dimensions of the armaments and the

technology available to the Byzantines (excluding Sim’s figures which are based on early

Imperial equipment). The answers were largely contingent on the familiarity of each

smith with the selected equipment, as well as his own experience with forging arms; this

predictably produced a range of opinions.

The figures provided by Sim immediately stand out as being significantly lower

than those of the other participants. Several of the parameters which guided his experi-

mentation are as follows, “All items were made as if they were mass produced. The items

had to be produced in the minimum amount of time and with minimum fuel consump-

tion” (Sim: 2012:64). These illustrate his desire to recreate what he believed would be the

most efficient and effective ways for workshops to produce armaments. This system of

production fits well with the limited evidence that exists on fabricae in the late Roman

period. One papyrus dating from the second or third century records the armaments pro-

duced in one fabrica over the course of two days (P. Berlin 6765). The text records the

completion of ten swords on the first day (1.11). This matches well with Sim’s figure of

two hours for the skilled component of gladius forging using a single striker. Assuming a 147 6 minutes 10 minutes 46 minutes 45 minutes 37 to complete Sim (w/ striker) minutes to complete information not given information not given information not given information not given 2:00 hours or 120 minutes 10:00-15:00 hours or 600-900 360-450 mins 2:00-3:00 hours 720-900 minutes 6:00-7:30 hours or or 120-180 minutes 12:00-15:00 hours or information not given information not given information not given information not given information not given information not given 30 minutes to complete Dawson (w/ striker) 600 mins 600 mins 900 mins 10:30 hours 630 minutes 10:00 hours or 10:00 hours or 15:00 hours or 40:00 hours or 15:00 hours or 15:00 hours or information not given information not given 900 mins to complete 900 mins to complete 2400 mins to complete 30 minutes to complete Martin (w/ striker) 600 minutes 720 minutes Markewitz 10:00 hours or 12:00 hours or information not given information not given information not given information not given information not given information not given information not given information not given Sagitai Trivolia Riktaria (arrows) Kasidion (Javelin) Spathion (Caltrops) Podopsella Tzikourion Armament Figures given for the production of equipment by the interviewees. Those indicated as to complete, refer Figures given for the production of equipment by interviewees. Paramerion (rib-style helmet) (single-bladed axe) Cheiropsellon zygon (curved long-sword) Kontarion/Menavlion (a pair of leg-guards) (a pair (a pair of arm-guards) (a pair (spear and heavy spear) (spear (double-edged longsword) Table 4: Table those in which a figure is given for the entire process rather than only object fabrication. 148 ten hour work day, this would allow for the production of five swords per day. Since this establishment had up to 100 individuals (milites legionari, immunes, cohortales, galliarii,

p̣agani, and custodiae), then a figure of ten swords per day is not unreasonable, though

that is contingent on the assumption that labour was sub-divided (Bishop 1985:3); the

process for a single craftsman to produce a sword – from blank forging, to weapon manu-

facture, and finishing and assembly – requires approximately 40 hours of labour (Sim

2012:94). The production of ten swords in one day as suggested by the Papyrus 6765

simply would not be possible with the mode of production suggested by James

(1988:275). This at the very least demonstrates that the fabricae were not small establish-

ments and had significant capabilities for armament production. Though there is no indi-

cation as to the size of the workforce employed in the imperial armamenta of the tenth

century, we might postulate that they had similar capabilities. We might also speculate

that centrally located fabricae such as that in Constantinople, which had appeared by 539

(Justinian, Novel 85), and carried on into the tenth century, might have had a larger ca-

pacity than a provincial fabrica. It should also be noted that Sim (2012:67) states in re-

gards to disposable weaponry (excluding caltrops) that “no items were hardened.”

Though cold-working an object to increase its hardness does not consume a significant

portion of the labour required in manufacture as we have seen there is evidence to sug-

gest that Byzantine arrowheads may have been work-hardened (Waldbaum 1983:184-

185). It should also be noted that the blade of a Pompeii type gladius – that which Sim’s

(2012: Plate 20) reproductions were based on – measures anywhere from 42-50 centime-

tres (Sim 2012:101, Bishop and Coulston 2006:80). According to the Sylloge Tacticorum

(39.2) a spathion should be no less than 4 spans without the handle or approximately 60- 149 76 centimetres (approximately 40-45% larger than the blade of a gladius). This would

certainly have had some effect on labour requirements, though Sim suggests they would

be minimal (personal correspondence).

In contrast to the more industrialized production of armaments displayed in Sim’s

experimentation (2012:94), the figures provided by Dawson, Martin, and Markewitz

more closely resemble “one offs,” where increasing efficiency and reducing labour in-

vestments were not necessarily primary goals. The figures provided by Dawson, Martin,

and Markewitz might better adhere to the circumstances of a thematic artisan tasked with

producing a single batch of armaments at irregular intervals. A combination of both pro-

duction styles is beneficial to the current study as production capabilities across the em-

pire must have been variable.

The figures developed through the interviews confirmed some of my speculations

and entirely confounded others. It was no surprise to me that a spathion would prove the

most difficult and labour intensive to produce. What I did not expect was that a similarly

sized paramerion could be produced at a significantly quicker rate. This is due to the bev-

elling process, one of the most labour intensive elements of sword forging. The technique

requires the smith to hammer a bevel along the entire edge of the sword blade. In the case

of a spathion four edges required bevelling while the paramerion only required two. This

effectively halves the labour required to forge this style of sword when compared to a

double-edged blade. Bevelling along only one edge also naturally produces a curve,

which may have been a characteristic of the paramerion. If ease of production was the

primary focus of sword-making, then one might expect single-edged curved swords to

appear more prominently throughout history. The prolific use of double-edged swords 150 throughout history suggests that two edges provided a significant enough benefit for the

increased labour implications.

5.5b) Tables 5 and 6

Table 5 displays the range and average production times of the selected equipment

based on the information provided in the interviews. Where ranges (i.e. 12-15 hours, or

720-900 minutes) were given, the average of that range was used (i.e 13.5 hours, or 810

minutes) to calculate the total average between the participants (for the spathion: 120 +

720 + 810 + 900 = 2550 / 4 = 637.5 minutes). This figure represents the average time re-

quired to forge each piece of equipment. In the final column, these values were multiplied

by the quantities of equipment listed in the De Cerimoniis. The final value, represented in

both minutes and hours, is the total accumulated labour hours for the forging of each

piece of equipment (excluding blank forging and finishing times). These figures allow us

to estimate, as close as possible, the time elapsed in the production of this particular col-

lection of equipment for the 949 expedition.

For the production of 5000 spathia, an average of approximately 53,125 hours

would have been invested. Table 6 displays the number of days required – based on a ten

hour work day and 365 day work year – for the production of the selected equipment. For

example, a single blacksmith would require 5312.5 days or approximately 14.5 years, to

complete 5000 spathia. One hundred smiths were able to complete this task in 53.125

days. For 1000 blacksmiths, 5.3125 days would be required to complete a requisition of

this size. These figures have interesting implications for the production of arms through-

out the empire: If the time-to-completion of an armament commission could be deduced

from the sources, then we may begin to assess the necessary manpower required for com-

pletion. The time which had elapsed from the beginning to the end of the comissions 151 669.14-19, 670.7-10) = 674.4) x 900 minutes = 674.1) x 600 minutes = 83,333 hours 349 minutes = 472,021 hours 669.14-19, 676.13) x 32.3 minutes = 669.14-19, 676.13)= 5000 x 637.5 minutes = 300,000 minutes (5000 hours) 180,000 minutes (3000 hours) 1,745,000 minutes (29,083 hours) 671.9-10) x 10 minutes = 5,000,000 or 3,606,750 minutes (60,113 hours) 3,606,750 minutes (60,113 3,187,500 minutes (53,125 hours) Not recorded in the De Cerimoniis . Not recorded in the De Cerimoniis . + 2000 menavlia ( DC 669.14-19, 676.13) = 5000 x 14,212,000 minutes (236,867 hours) 500 tzikouria ( DC 200 arm-guards ( DC 440,000 arrows ( DC 2290 helmets x 1575 minutes ( DC 500,000 ( DC Quantites of equipment recorded in the De Cerimoniis Quantites of equipment recorded 5000 spathia ( DC 3000 kontaria 2000 ( DC 669.14-19) x 45 minutes = 90,000 (1500 hours) Average (1 per day) 45 minutes 900 minutes 349 minutes 900 minutes 600 minutes (.94 per day) (.66 per day) (.38 per day) (.66 per day) 32.3 minutes (to complete) 1575 minutes (1.16 per day) (1.72 per day) (18.6 per day) 637.5 minutes 517.5 minutes 10 with striker (14 without) out) 15:00 00:45 10:00 15:00 to complete 01:40-10:00 10:00-40:00 02:00-15:00 06:00-10:30 00:30-00:37 to complete to complete to complete to complete to complete to complete Range (m/h) with striker (14 00:10 Total Range and averages of the figures provided by interviewees. Column four multiplies these individual number Sagitai Kasidion Spathion Trivolion Riktarion Podopsella Tzikourion Armament Paramerion Cheiropsellon zygon Kontarion/Menavlion . A figure for the total number of hours invested is represented in final row. A of equipment recorded in the De Cerimoniis . Table 5: Table

152 .5000 .3000 .1500 6.0113 5.3125 2.9083 83.333 47.2021 23.6867 for 1000 smiths for Days to completion 3.000 5.000 1.500 60.113 29.083 53.125 833.33 236.867 472.021 for 100 smiths for Days to completion 500.0 300.0 150.0 6011.3 5312.5 2908.3 8333.3 23,686.7 47,202.1 for 1 smith for Days to completion Time 472,021 5000 hours 1500 hours 3000 hours Production Production 60,113 hours 60,113 53,125 hours 29,083 hours 83,333 hours 236,867 hours Total Sagitai Trivolia Riktaria Kasidion Spathion Tzikourion Armament Cheiropsellon zygon Kontarion/Menavlion Table 6 : Based on the average production time (in minutes) required for completion of recorded equip- Table This is based on a 10 hour work day. ment is estimated. 153 is not clearly stated in the text. This likely fluctuated depending on the size and type of

equipment produced, and so becomes difficult to estimate with reasonable accuracy.

Also displayed in Table 5 is the total value of accumulated labour hours for the

production of this portion of equipment brought on the 949 expedition. Though only esti-

mates can be made on the population of the themes and the number of blacksmiths em-

ployed in the empire, to produce only this small portion of the percentage of the larger

cargo seems at first to represent a significant labour undertaking; just over one year was

required for 1000 blacksmiths to complete production on this portion of the cargo. If

there was a population of nine million people living within the borders of the Byzantine

empire in 959, then one thousand blacksmiths represents a meager 0.011 percent of that

total population (Treadgold 1997:236). One might expect a significantly larger portion of

the population to be involved in smithing practices, especially since iron was closely in-

terwoven into the fabric of middle Byzantine society, and was present in virtually every

industry; the prolific discovery of metal artefacts and metalworking slag at Byzantine

sites attests to this. Through a process which remains unclear, select workshops were

sanctioned by the state to produce arms. This helps to explain the discrepency in the over-

all blacksmithing population.

The mass quantity of disposable weaponry produced for the expedition appears to

have represented the largest quantity of labour investment. Arrowheads in particular con-

stitute over half of the labour required for the entire cargo (236,867 hours). This may be

inflated due to the manner in which the information was presented (i.e. to completion),

and with the division of labour, the speed of this process would increase. However, using

Sim’s (2012:94) 5 minute figure for skilled forging, this still requires a significant labour

investment (36,667 hours). This does not account for the production and assembly of the

arrow-shaft and fletching. In addition, there is some evidence to suggest that Byzantine 154 arrowheads may have been work-hardened, though not a significant labour investment, it

still must be considered (Waldbaum 1983:184-185).

Caltrops too, represent a significant labour investment (83,333 hours). This seems

counter-intuitive as disposable weapons were not often recovered and thus had to be re-

manufactured once expended. This may have been the case with the 949 expedition, as

the De Cerimoniis records that 500,000 caltrops are to be produced specifically for this

expedition (DC 671.9-10).

A second century passage preserved in Justinian’s Digesta (530-533) provides

some interesting insight into the importance of various trades (Digesta 50.6.7). The ex-

cerpt discusses a group of immunes, who are exempt from regular onerous tasks so that

they may focus their labours on their crafts. Among the crafts listed, with specific refer-

ences to armaments are arrow-makers, sword-smiths, helmet-makers, and bow-makers.

These craftsmen may have been acknowledged for the significant labour implications of

their craft or skill that they possessed. In addition makers of ballistae and ships are also

mentioned, presumably tasks which required significant labour investments.

5.5c) The 911 Expedition

Several examples which may hold some significance in determining the produc-

tion capabilities of thematic workshops are found in chapter 44 of De Cerimoniis in re-

gards to the 911 expedition to the Syrian coast (DC 657.11-14). One passage records a

requisition given to the krites of the theme of Hellas for the manufacture of 1000

menavlia. The passage also states that these were completed and another batch was re-

quired of the same theme. No time frame is given for the length of time which elapsed

from the beginning of the first commission to its completion. However, we can estimate 155 that 1000 menavlia would take approximately 349,000 minutes or 5816.7 hours to com-

plete. This would take 100 smiths working 10 hours per day approximately 5.8 days to

complete. For 1000 blacksmiths

to produce 1000 menavlia, it

would take just 5.8 hours to

complete. In this case, a figure

of 1000 blacksmiths for a single

theme seems unreasonably high,

though this is based on intuition

rather than specific evidence. Figure 36: Route from Larissa to Constantinople by ox-cart. Generated through: http://orbis.stanford.edu These figures do not include the time required to distribute information to the chosen the-

matic blacksmiths, or transport the finished equipment to a central location. Some inter-

esting comparisons can be made

between the transport time and

labour investments in producing

equipment; using ORBIS

(http://orbis.stanford.edu) to cal-

culate time frames for route-dis-

tances, the indication is that the

Figure 37: Route from Larissa to Constantinople by ship. time spent in transportation from Generated through: http://orbis.stanford.edu Larissa (a central city in Hellas, the theme mentioned in the text) to Constantinople

(which can be seen as a logical rallying point for equipment and troops before an expedi-

tion) is greater by both ox-cart (752 kilometres at 12 km/day = 62.7 days) and open sea

(972 kilometres at 72 km/day = 13.5 days), than the overall production time for 1000

menavlia, whether they were produced by 100 or 1000 blacksmiths. This illustrates that 156 in regards to time expenditures, the labour investments involved in producing arms in the

themes are often overshadowed by the time spent in transport, though this is dependent

on the quantity of equipment and number of blacksmiths involved.

Another passage which may prove significant in determining the production capa-

bilities of the themes comes from the same passage in chapter 44 of the De Cerimoniis in

which several other commissions are noted (DC 657.11-14). The themes of Hellas, Thes-

saloniki, Nikopolis, and the Peloponnese undertook the production of 200,000 arrows and

3000 menavlia. It is unclear whether each theme was to produce 200,000 arrows and

3000 menavlia each, or as a total sum. As a total sum, this would be 800,000 arrows and

12,000 menavlia, a significant quantity of equipment. To produce 800,000 arrowheads

would have required 25,840,000 minutes or approximately 430,667 labour hours (time

to complete given for arrowheads). One thousand blacksmiths would require approxi-

mately 43 days to complete this batch, though this does not take into account the concur-

rent production likely operating in the themes. To produce 12,000 menavlia would have

taken 4,188,000 minutes or 69,800 hours (skilled forging time, not including blank forg-

ing and finishing). This would take 1000 blacksmiths 6.98 days to complete. In the case

of arrowheads, I believe this number is higher than could be expected, a result of the

manner in which the information was presented to me during the interviews. If blank

forging and finishing both occurred concurrently, then a much lower number could be ex-

pected. However, this does not account for the production of arrow shafts and fletching,

which likely represented a larger time investment than the arrowhead itself. What can be

said with certainty is that the production of arrows would largely overshadow the produc-

tion of menavlia in this instance.

157 30 minutes 40:00 hours 15:00 hours 15:00 hours 810 minutes 450 minutes 600 minutes no information given no information given (based on Dawson, Martin, Markewitz) Average Production Time of Thematic Smiths of Time Production Average 6 minutes 45 minutes 46 minutes 10 minutes 120 minutes (based on Sim) no information given no information given no information given no information given Average Production time of Imperial Armouries time of Imperial Production Average Sagitai Trivolia R iktaria Kasidion Spathion Tzikourion Podopsella Armaments Cheiropsellon zygon Kontarion/Menavlion : Average production time of imperial armouries and thematic workshops. Average 7 : Table 158 5.5d) Table 7

Table 7 presents an alternative method of organizing the information provided

through the interviews. The drastically smaller production time-frames offered by Sim

through his experimentation might be a better indication of the production capabilites of

an imperial armory. In contrast, the “on-off” circumstances of Martin, Markewitz and

Dawson might better reflect the production capabilities of thematic blacksmiths produc-

ing military equipment in irregular intervals. Therefore it might be useful to separate the

two production methods and attempt to identify those pieces of equipment which were

primarily produced in the themes and those in the imperial workshops.

5.6) Conclusions

This chapter had two overarching goals: (1) To explain and expand upon my use

of methodologies and establish the rationale for their use. This included the use of an

ethnographic approach in the absence of historical information on the topic of arms pro-

duction. (2) To present the results of interviews and analyze what they might suggest

about arms production in the Byzantine period. Some significant implications can be hy-

pothesized with the use of these figures. We have little understanding of the number of

blacksmiths involved in the production of military equipment. Developing time-frames

for the production of equipment has allowed for some discussion on this topic. Though

the results are far from definitive, they begin to provide an idea of the quantity of labour

involved in the production of arms. They allow us to contextualize the capacity in which

the state was able to draw on provincial labour as well as the production capacities of the

imperial armouries. It brings us one step closer to understanding the quantity of labour re-

quired for the production of arms and the manpower which must have been drawn upon

for its manufacture. 159 The figures developed through this analysis, and particularly those which indicate the time elapsed, can be contrasted to other logistical operations of the state, namely the transportation of arms across the empire. As I have shown, transportation, in the case of the 911 expedition, represents a larger time investment than the manufacture of arms. Re- sults such as these help us to understand the nuances of logistical systems in the tenth century, and allow us to consider arms production in a new light. The time required for expedition preparations, including such factors as transportation, may help us better understand all of the logistics involved in arms production, from both the perspective of the craftspeople and the state.

160 Chapter 6: Conclusions 6.1) Introduction

It has been the goal of this thesis to begin taking steps towards better understand-

ing arms production in the middle Byzantine period. To achieve this goal, three primary

research questions were developed: (1) What were the techniques and technologies used

by Byzantine metallurgists in the manufacture of military equipment? (2) What were the

administrative systems in place which facilitated the arms production industry for the

Byzantine Empire in the tenth century? (3) What were the labour investments of forging

ferrous arms for a middle Byzantine army in preparation for a military expedition in the

tenth century?

6.2) Byzantine Metallurgical Technology

6.2a) Smelting Technology

The study of Byzantine metallurgical technology is in an early stage of scholar-

ship. Only a handful of publications have dealt with this topic in any detail (Nerantzis

2009a, b, Živić 2009). The lack of scholarship is, in part, due to the paucity of evidence.

To address this, a breadth of sources must be consulted and Byzantine metallurgical tradi-

tions must be examined within the larger context of the Mediterranean and Near East. For

example, the used of a shafted furnace seems to be a widespread tradition – especially in

the Balkan Peninsula – following Roman convention. The shafted bloomery furnace saw

use in the Roman world from at least the first century A.D. and likely cotinued through to

the fifteenth century (Nerantzis 2009b:450). With the adoption of large hydraulic bellows 161 in the fifteenth century, the typical furnace shaft became larger and the internal tempera-

tures achievable increased. These larger furnaces, the so called blast-furnaces, produced

cast-iron rather than wrought iron as a result of the higher internal achievable tempera-

tures and the subsequent absorption of carbon. The blast-furnace effectively produced

higher yields as less unreduced iron remained in the slag. The virtually slag-free cast-iron

would be subject to secondary decarburization, or fusion with wrought iron, to produce

forgeable steel of a higher quality than that yielded through the bloomery process.

Though the mechanism which powered the furnace had shifted from man-power to hy-

draulic power, blast furnaces were essentially large shaft furnaces which operated at

higher temperatures (Williams 2012:187-189).

Byzantine metallurgical technology was not stagnant but dynamic, and even inno-

vative. The possible use of cast iron at the late Roman (fifth-sixth century) metallurgical

workshops located in Galerius’ Palace at Gamzigrad – Romuliana suggests the use of

technology previously thought to be unknown in this period (Živić 2009:205). Živić

states that the evidence clearly points towards the production and casting of liquid iron. It

is traditionally assumed that this technology was developed in Sweden sometime around

1200 (Williams 2012:189). Microstructural analysis of slag and artefactual remains had

not been conducted at the time of publication and so no confirmation of their composition

is given. Moulds found at the site help substantiate their claim, though the presence of

malachite might also suggest their use for copper-alloy casting.

162 6.2b) Forging Technology

Evidence from Sardis, Sagalassos, Nikopolis, Crypta Balbi, and Amorium repre-

sent our best archaeological examples for reconstructing Byzantine forging technology

(Eekelers et al. 2016, Christie 2010, Lightfoot 2007, Poulter 2007, Waldbaum 1983). A

number of techniques are evident from these sites. Forging slag from Nikopolis demon-

strates the production and use of steel billets. This is corroborated by the ninth or tenth

century Byzantine alchemical text which records the techniques used in the production of

crucible steel by carburizing wrought iron. Crucible steel was also produced by the Arabs

though an entirely different method was used.

Evidence for the use of flux at Sagalassos indicates that the technique of forge-

welding had likely carried over from the late Roman period. Metallographic analysis of

one ninth century sword blade of possible Byzantine manufacture points towards a simi-

lar conclusion. The cutting edges of the sword were comprised of high-carbon steel

welded onto a core of lower carbon steel (Figure 27) (Jiří and Jiří 2006). Though not en-

tirely clear, Jiří and Jiří (2006:205) posit that at least the first third of the blade had been

quenched. One possible Byzantine arrowhead discovered at Sardis provides evidence for

work-hardening. It is interesting that, due to the disposable nature of arrowheads, a smith

would have invested the time to increase its hardness. This suggests that there was some

advantage in penetration power offered by the harder arrowhead. Though this might seem

obvious, when discussing the production of arrowheads in the quantities mentioned in the

De Cerimoniis, this might have significant implications for labour investments. Experi-

mentation in the difference of penetration power between unhardened wrought iron ar-

rowheads versus those which have been work-hardened might prove insightful in 163 answering this question. The picture which is painted by the evidence is that Byzantine

metallurgists possessed similar technology to their contemporaries for which metallurgi-

cal evidence is more abundant. Byzantine metallurgical tradition did not exist in a para-

digm of stagnation but continued to develop from its roots in Roman technology.

6.3) Labour Investments and Administrative Systems

The examination of administrative systems was initially geared towards better un-

derstanding the arms production industry, its individual contingents, their relationships,

and the overall involvement of the state. The intention was to develop a framework which

would allow for an inquiry into labour investments. The research focus was not on ex-

plaining administrative systems in the tenth century, recalling Bury’s work (1911), but

rather to establish an understanding of these systems through analysis of the secondary

literature. One unexpected outcome of my research into labour investments was that I

was able to begin addressing questions of administration and logistics in the tenth century

in ways not previously possible. My second and third research questions were thus

closely interwoven, and through the exploration of labour investments as a part of my

third research question, I was able to address the second.

Transportation became a focus of my analysis as a result of the inquiry into labour

investments, and highlights an avenue of future research which may continue to prove

fruitful. It is significant that the time investments required for the transport of armaments

appears to be greater than that of personal equipment manufacture. The example used to

illustrate this point comes from chapter 44 of the De Cerimoniis (DC 657.11-14). In this

instance, 1000 menavlia manufactured in the Hellas thema were likely transported to 164 some central point for collection. I have assumed this to be Constantinople for lack of any

evidence from the text itself. This single instance can be applied on a much wider scale

across the Empire. It is clear that transport would have been a significant logistical con-

sideration when preparing equipment for an expedition. This is especially true as arma-

ments were being produced by thematic artisans who, it is assumed, were geographically

dispersed throughout the themes. How then did state officials organize the collection of

the armaments from each thematic artisan? It seems likely that they would be brought to

some central location before being transported to Constantinople. If this was the case,

then who was in charge of this more localized transport? If this was the duty of state offi-

cials (possible the krites in this instance), then it would certainly be cause for further con-

sideration, because as we have seen, transport – especially terrestrial – represents a

significant time investment. If the transport of equipment was overseen by the workshops

producing it, the state was largely relieved of this burden. If this were true, then different

possibilities must be explored, such as the means of transport. Was the state involved in

providing the equipment necessary for transport, such as wagons and beasts of burden to

pull them? Alternatively, did the state only select those artisans with access to the neces-

sary transportation equipment for the production of armaments? Many of these factors re-

main unknown, though one can speculate that the state would have ensured it maintained

favourable circumstances.

6.3a) Methods of Transportation

The significant weight of ferrous arms in the large quantities described in the De

Cerimoniis would have also posed some logistical challenges. Pack animals, though able 165 to carry some equipment, prove slow and inefficient in regards to travel speed, but also

human labour (packing and unpacking the animals over long journeys). Wagons therefore

represent the most efficient means of terrestrial transport, in terms of both speed, quantity

of equipment transported, and human labour investment (unstrapping the wagon from the

animal, as opposed to unpacking the animal’s load). Naval transport was undoubtedly the

most effective means, though not without its own limitations, as the Serçe Limanı ship-

wreck attests (i.e. danger of winter travel, access to ports).

The method of storing equipment while itinerant must have also been considered.

The morphology of some arms could make them difficult to transport. Spears, swords,

and arrows for instance, could be bundled and stacked fairly effectively and transported

on a wagon. Caltrops though, due entirely to their four sharp tines, may have proved

more difficult. A leather or textile sack would likely prove ineffective at holding caltrops

as the tines were intended to pierce leather and flesh. A crate might be the best option for

transporting such weapons. If so, how many caltrops could fit within one crate, and how

many crates on a wagon?

It is possible that the state alleviated this burden by centralizing its production.

Those caltrops recorded in the De Cerimoniis represent one of the few instances where

the initial production of equipment is explicitly referenced. It is apparent that all 500,000

caltrops were intended to be produced in the imperial armamenton, likely located in Con-

stantinople. It may be that the difficulties of transporting caltrops meant that it was a

more effective use of time and labour to produce them in a central location, rather than

commission their production from thematic artisans. A more detailed look at the carrying

capacity of pack animals and wagons, the weight of armaments, and the distances trav- 166 elled from thematic production centres might provide an interesting avenue for future re-

search.

6.3b) Thematic Production Capabilities

In addition to transportation, analyzing labour investments has allowed for specu-

lation on the size of the thematic blacksmithing industry, and the number of artisans cho-

sen by the state to produce military equipment. No such research has addressed this

question and it remains a unique aspect of this thesis. It also means that the current re-

search suffers from a lack of comparative material. The figures 100 and 1000 were cho-

sen as ranges for the number of artisans producing equipment simply because we do not

have any indication as to the scope of this industry. One papyrus from the second or third

centuries A.D. refers to the size of a Roman fabrica as employing 100 workmen. The rel-

evance of such information to the tenth century is obscure but remains our only source of

information on the size of what might be described as a similar establishment. Contrast-

ing the estimated number of thematic blacksmiths to overall population estimates for the

Byzantine Empire in 959 provides some interesting figures. In a society reliant on black-

smiths for metal artifacts, there appears to be a small percentage of the population en-

gaged in the trade. This is tempered by the fact that not all thematic artisans were chosen

by the state for the production of military equipment and so represents a much smaller

figure than could be expected from the entire blacksmithing population. An inquiry into

the size and scope of the armament production industry will benefit greatly from future

analysis of the entire contents of the 949 expedition recorded in the De Cerimoniis.

167 6.4) Points of Improvement and Future Research

There are several aspects of the current research which could be improved for fu-

ture studies. The most obvious is an increase in the number of interviewees. This will im-

prove the accuracy of the figures and subsequently make a more refined analysis

possible. The current body of information presented was sufficient for the examination of

overall trends, but could be evaluated in more detail with comprehensive figures. An es-

pecially important piece of this is standardization of information. This is difficult because

the experiences of individuals vary greatly and may not follow the same segregated pro-

duction stages as assumed in the current study (i.e. three-stage production). Wherever

possible though, these should be separated and assessed as individual labour-hours rather

than as total time-elapsed.

To further improve the figures provided through interviewing expert artisans, ex-

perimentation could be conducted to a greater degree. The experience gained through the

limited experimentation was essential for my understanding of manufacturing stages and

forging techniques. More rigorous parameters should be established to guide the experi-

ments. This includes closely following period technology and techniques to the best that

they are known. A much greater range of variables should be recorded, including hammer

weight, weight and dimensions of the starting blank, fuel type and consumption rate,

blank and billet forging time, artefact forging time, loss of ferrous material through forg-

ing, division of labour, stages of manufacture, and finishing time. These guidelines will

allow for the production of a standardized template which can be applied to many differ-

ent situations.

Another interesting stream of evidence which might prove useful in developing 168 labour requirements is an inquiry into charcoal consumption rates. The De Cerimoniis

records that a unspecified quantity of charcoal is to be purchased for the production of a

large corpus of armaments. If the quantity of charcoal could be discovered, then it would

be theoretically possible to account for the approximate rate of consumption and provide

another indicator for the length of time required to produce the specified equipment. Lee

Saunders and Skip Williams (2002) – through rigorous experimentation – estimate that

83kg of charcoal and 8.3kg of ore are required for the production of 1kg of iron artefact.

Subsequently, 1 kg of charcoal requires approximately 6.2kg of dry wood (Manning

2014:12). Based on these estimates for the production of 440,000 ten gram arrowheads

(arrowheads can vary widely in weight depending on their intended use), this would

imply the use of 365,200 kg of charcoal and subsequently 2,264,240 kg of dry wood, and

36,520 ore. The applications for such information in light of the records of the De Ceri-

moniis are numerous. For example, this information might also help inform arboreal and

iron exploitation rates.

Sim’s (1997) excellent work on mail production would prove a valuable asset for

further research into the topic of labour investments. The production of mail, and espe-

cially mail coats, would likely have been the most labour intensive of the ferrous arma-

ments to produce. The figures produced by Sim for the production of mail armour were

based on Roman examples. To utilize these numbers in a Byzantine content, a compari-

son between Roman and Byzantine mail must be carried out; In addition, the terminology

(i.e. light and standard) used in the De Cerimoniis must be deciphered.

One element of the cargo recorded in the De Cerimoniis which may hold possibil-

ity for future research is that which relates to naval ship construction. With the recently 169 discovered Yenikapı shipwrecks this portion of the cargo has taken on special signifi-

cance. Unlike archaeological remains for middle Byzantine ferrous arms and armour, the

Yenikapı shipwrecks provide extensive comparative remains to contrast with the De Ceri-

moniis records. I believe that ship construction would represent the most significant

labour investment of the equipment listed in the De Cerimoniis, and possibly a greater

time investment than transportation (e.g. plank planing, timber seasoning, pitch produc-

tion). A similar analysis on the construction of ships in the middle Byzantine period could

prove a fruitful avenue of future research.

Finally, further inquiry into the monetary expenses incurred by the state in the

preparations for an expedition could prove insightful for future research. Hendy

(1985:157) suggests that military expenses formed significant portions of the imperial

budget. It would be interesting to better understand what portion of those expenses came

from the production of military equipment. The De Cerimoniis provides some remarks

which indicate the monetary values of selected equipment. These passages are valuable in

understanding the overall arms production industry and the monetary costs associated

with the production of armaments.

6.5) Final Conclusions

The goal of this thesis has been to better explore arms production technology and

systems in the tenth century Byzantine Empire. The research presented here provides an

opportunity for exploring arms production in ways not possible in the past, includes an

examination of labour and time investments in armament manufacture and transportation,

as well as preliminary indications of blacksmithing population and thematic and imperial 170 production capabilities. The purpose was not to end the discussion on labour investments

of arms manufacture, but perhaps to stoke the interest of others to further explore the

topic. Though this study has taken the initial steps, there is much to improve upon and

further research to be conducted on the topic which will continue to enlighten our under-

standing of middle Byzantine arms production.

171 Appendix

Appendix to Chapter 2

Byzantine Artillery

Weapons designed for siegecraft were an important part of the Byzantine arsenal.

Artillery machines were operated by specialized infantry contingents. In the tenth century the primary siege weapons included the arrow-throwing ballistra, and the traction-trebuchet, both of which are mentioned in the De Cerimoniis (670.14-19). The traction-tre- buchets, though eventually superseded by the first the hybrid- and then the counterweight-trebuchet, was a formidable weapons used throughout the period of the

Macedonian Emperors. The traction trebuchet was constructed of a large horizontal beam secured by a pivot to two vertical beams. On on end of the horizontal beam was fashioned a set of ropes with which artillery-men would pull the beam downward. A sling which supported large projectiles was fashioned on the other end of the beam. To power the machine a group of men would pull the ropes downard forcing Figure 38: Byzantine traction trebuchet. Biblioteca Nacional de España: Biblioteca Digital Hispánica. the other end of the beam to swing upwards and release the projectile. An example of this can be see in Figure 38. The hybrid trebuchet, an improvement upon the traction-tre- 172 buchet, appeared sometime in the eighth century. It differed in that it used a counter-

weight in addition to man-power to heave the projectile. The hybrid trebuchet could

launch stones of 185 kilograms. The Byzantines were at the forefront of artillery technol-

ogy during the reign of the Macedonian Emperors. By the late-tenth century the Byzan-

tines had developed the most powerful trebuchet of its time throwing stones up to 200

kilograms (Chevedden 1995:84). The Parangelmata Poliorcetica, a mid-tenth century

treatise on siege warfare ascribed to the Heron of Byzantium details some of the innova-

tions in siege warfare developed by the Byzantines including the laisa, a hastily made

structure used to protect soldiers while tunneling under the walls (Parangelmata Po-

liorcetica 2.1-5). The treatise on siege warfare written by Nikephoros Ouranos during the

late-tenth century explores similar details (Taktika(b) 65.85-117).

The Byzantine Navy

Illuminating the composition and vessel-types used in the Byzantine navy is com-

plicated by the variable terminology used throughout the historical sources. Three spe-

cific types are explicitly referenced as being a part of the 949 expedition: dromones,

pamphyloi, and ousiaka chelandia. Elsewhere ships known as the galeai are referenced.

The term dromones came, by the tenth century, to be a standard term referring to war-gal- lies. It is clear that the standard warship of the tenth century was in fact a bireme (though some monoreme, and triremes were also used) (Figure 39). The pamphyloi seems to refer to dromones which had originated in the Pamphylia theme. The chelandia formed the bulk of the Byzantine navy. The name seems in some sense to be interchangeable with dromon. The chelandia of the 911 expedition of Himerios are recorded as carrying 130- 173 160 crew members, though it is not immediately clear if these are soldiers or oarsmen

(DC 653.1). The size of the crew indicates that these must have been oared ships (Pryor and Jeffreys 2006:188-192). Two Byzantine shipwrecks, YK 2 and YK 4 discovered at

Figure 39: Reconstruction of a Byzantine dromon through the reign of the Macedonian emperors. Pryor 2006:205.

Yenikapı seem to correspond to the Byzantine term galeai (Taktika(a) 19.10, 19.81), fast and agile warships used for scouting and close combat skirmishing (Pulak et al 2011:62)

The middle Byzantine navy – similar to the army – was divided into units. The

primary units consisted of the imperial fleet, and the thematic fleets of the Cibyrrhaetos,

Samos and Aegean naval themes. In addition, a foreign group known as the Mardaitai whom lived in the western themes accompanied the Byzantines on the 949 expedition (as well as that in 911). The Byzantines also utilized the Rus to power their navy (Makrypou- lias 1995). A naval team –referring to the group of soldiers which crewed a vessel – was known as an ousia, which was composed of 108-110 soldiers (Haldon 2000:336). In A.D. 174 949 the total imperial fleet consisted of 130 vessels crewed by 150 ousiai. Of the 150 ou-

siai, 80 were involved in the 949 expedition (Haldon 2000:306). These 80 ousiai were

transported on a total of 60 vessels (Haldon 2000:218). The fleet consisted of 20

dromones each with a crew of 220 soldiers, 33 ousiaka chelandia with a crew of 108-110

soldiers, and 7 pamphyloi with a crew of 120-150 soldiers. The imperial fleet which

sailed to Crete in A.D. 949 thus was crewed by approximately 8800 to 9080 soldiers (de-

pending on the variability of the crew sizes). The type of vessel which corresponds with

the Byzantine terminology dromones, ousiaka chelandia, and pamphyloi is unclear. The

ousiaka chelandia seem to represent a standard warship with a crew of 108-110 soldiers

(Haldon 2000:335). The term pamphyloi does not refer to a different type of vessel than the ousiaka chelandia, but a difference in the composition of the crew on the vessel, one which is larger and filled with more elite soldiers (Haldon 2000:336-337).

In addition to the imperial fleet, the thematic fleet also contributed to the expedition. The total size of the thematic fleets in A.D. 949 was 59 vessels. Of the 59 ships the naval themata contributed 21 ships to the A.D. 949 expedition carrying a total of approximately 3548 soldiers. Soldiers from non-naval provinces made up the rest of the crew, amounting to 8352 soldiers and sailors (Haldon 2000:305-306).

Appendix to Chapter 5

Experiment

The interviews were only the first step to understanding the individual smith; I still felt that there was more that could be done to expand my knowledge of the practical 175 side of arms production. When I set forth to tackle this thesis I was intent on becoming

involved in the experimental side of forging arms. It is my belief that first-hand experi-

ence with producing arms would greatly benefit my understanding of the labour hours re-

quired in their production. With this goal in mind I began to formulate an experiment in

which I would attempt to forge, using historical techniques, a variety of Byzantine mili-

tary equipment. Though there are always factors which distance a modern experiment

from ancient practice, they can still provide a great deal of relevant and unique informa-

tion. The path to obtaining this goal was not clear and without the facilities, technical

skill or guidance this seemed a daunting task. After conducting my interview with Robb

Martin, my fortunes changed. I offered my help volunteering at his shop, (located in Flo-

radale, Ontario, just outside of Elmira) in exchange for use of his forge and workshop.

For the next month I began learning some of the basic blacksmithing skills such as tend-

ing the coal forge and hammer-striking techniques. After approximately a month Robb

offered me his course on sword forging in exchange for the work that I had offered him.

This was the perfect opportunity for me to dive into first-hand ferrous arms production

under the guidance of someone with a wealth of experience.

The course took place over a week from August 15-19, 2016. The participants

were allowed the flexibility to produce a sword of their choosing, within the basic param-

eters set by Robb: a double edged long-sword with a quillon and pommel. These basic

parameters were the perfect fit to attempt the forging of a Byzantine spathion. Since ar-

chaeological examples of Byzantine spathia are scarce I had to draw on as many sources

as possible to determine its basic morphology in order to translate this into my design.

This was a similar process to selecting the equipment which would be the focus of my in- 176 terviews.

When setting out to forge my spathion I was less concerned about the structure of

the pommel and quillon than I was about the blade itself – its dimensions and shape – for

this represented the vast majority of the labour involved. I made the choice to forge a

straight iron quillon – similar to a sword located in the Paris Army Museum and identi-

fied by Dawson (2007a) as Byzantine in origin – and drum shaped pommel. For the

length of the blade, a range between 85-115 centimetres from the terminal end of the

pommel to the tip of the blade corroborated the literary, the archaeological and artistic ev-

idences (Dawson 2007a:19-21, D’Amato 2012:41, Jiří and Jiří 2006:201, Yotov

2011:120). The requirements for the sword were as follows: from 85-115 centimetres in

length from pommel to tip, a straight quillon, round pommel, and central fuller terminat-

ing approximately 15 centimetres from the tip of the sword (Jiří and Jiří 2006:202). The

blade was to taper slightly from its maximum width of approximately 4-5 centimetres at

the quillon to the tip. The handle was to be shaped of wood and bound with leather. The

handle would be attached with adhesive rather than rivets, similar to the ninth century

Byzantine sword discovered at the Moravian site in Mikulčice (Jiří and Jiří 2006:201).

The tang of the sword would carry on through the pommel and peened over to create a

mechanical fit. With these requirements in mind, I set out to forge my spathion.

The steel chosen to forge was a bar of 5160 high-carbon steel 1/4 inch (.635 cm)

thick x 2 inches (5 cm) wide x 29 inches (73.66 cm) long. The first step to forging the

sword was to bring the square corners of the rectangular bar into a point. This process re-

quired hammering back towards myself on each corner while keeping the overall width

of the bar consistent. The second step once a point had been established was to begin to 177 bevel the edges of the blade on all four sides whilst establishing a centre line. Approxi-

mately 15 centimetres of the blade were bevelled before taking the bar to the power-ham-

mer and drawing out the bar to a length greater than the total estimated size of the sword,

while keeping the width consistent. Once the bar had been drawn out to an appropriate

length I continued bevelling the edges across the length of the sword. In a historical set-

ting, the blacksmith would have made use of apprentice strikers to speed the forging

process. In this experiment the striker was substituted with a power-hammer. The bulk of

the forging process lays in the bevelling and drawing out. Once I had the blade bevelled

and drawn out, I forged in the basic shape of the tang, and cut off the access material at

the end of the bar. The bulk of the forging process took approximately 12 hours to com-

plete. The bevelling process was not something I was familiar with and so ended up being

a process of trial and error. My relative inexperience with blacksmithing made this

process difficult. Though the blade was bevelled the centre line was not clearly estab-

lished. This meant that there was much more work to do later on to adjust for these mis-

takes.

After the rough forging was completed, the next step was set in the fullers. Fullers

were traditionally forged into the blade using a round stock of metal. This requires a

high-level of skill in order to keep the fullers consistent. Instead, we used an angle-

grinder set into device which allowed the creation of a consistent fuller with a relative

lack of skill. Once the fullers had been set deep enough, I began using the power grinder

to shape the profile and thickness of the blade to the desired dimensions. Once I had the

shape of the blade completed, I moved on to quenching. The blade was brought to a con-

sistent cherry-red colour and then quickly submersed in quenching oil. This process can 178 be catastrophic and major flaws in the grain of the blade can cause cracks to form. After

the initial quench, the blade had to be tempered to “relieve” some of the martensite which

had formed in the quenching process. This involved heating the core of the blade to a

deep blue colour while leaving the edges a straw-yellow colour. Once the temper was

complete, I began to forge my pommel and quillon. The most time consuming part of this

process was the filing and fitting of the sword accoutrements to the tang of the blade.

When they were complete and fitted to the blade, I began the final polish before assem-

bly. After the polishing was complete, and the blade sufficiently sharpened, the final step

was to shape the wood handle and wrap it in leather. Once I had completed this, the blade

was assembled and the tang peened over the pommel so as to mechanically bind the

whole piece.

Figure 40: Reconstruction eleventh century Byzantine spathion. Personal collection. After a week of intensive labour, I had produced the equivalent of a late 11th century

Byzantine spathion. Through this experience I became better acquainted with each step in

the sword forging process. I gained insight into which aspects of forging and finishing a

sword required the most investments in labour. In this case the two most labour intensive

processes were the drawing out of the bar and the bevelling of the edges. The goal of

drawing out the bar is to attain a length greater than the total estimated size of the sword,

while keeping the width and thickness fairly consistent.

The overall forging time was approximately 12 hours, similar to the numbers pro- 179 duced through the interviews. Finishing the blade took an additional 27 hours, more than

double the length of the initial fabrication, and closely matching the figure produced by

Sim (2012:94).

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