89–92 Sumtyme . . . kingis. It was not uncommon for writers to assert that important men did, or should, enjoy reading and contemplating ideas discussed in their own writings. Likewise, important figures often sought to portray themselves as well read and as patrons of mankind’s collected wisdom. For military men in particular, this image was meant to demonstrate military knowledge and skill (C. Taylor, “Henry V, Flower of Chivalry,” pp. 244–46).↩back to note source

93 Jesse flour. In Christian tradition, Jesus, by virtue of descending from Jesse’s son, King David, fulfills the prophecy of Isaias 11:1: “And there shall come forth a rod out of the root of Jesse, and a flower shall rise up out of his root.” Nall argues that the poet here once more makes a direct connection between the king and Christ (Reading and War, pp. 127–29).↩back to note source

swete odour. That holy individuals exuded a pleasant smell is a medieval Christian convention that could extend, as the poet uses it here, into the idea that Christian virtues are figuratively sweet fragrances. See MED odour (n.), sense 3.↩back to note source

131–37 Knyghthode an ordir is . . . patient. The idea of knighthood as an order, especially in relation to others such as priesthood, is frequently expressed in other texts. For example, the French knight Geoffroi de Charny (ca. 1300–56), concludes one of his three chivalric manuals by repeatedly comparing the temporal and spiritual hazards faced by knights with those faced by priests, monks, and those in other religious positions (Book of Chivalry, ed. and trans. Kennedy, pp. 172–77, 180–91, 194–99; more generally, see also Kaeuper, Holy Warriors). Knightly writers invariably claim that they, themselves, faced greater peril than others, while religious writers frequently condemn the seemingly excessive behavior of knights and other military men. On the other hand, there are also instances of knights repenting of their worldly actions and committing themselves to more religious lives, such as the English knight John Clanvowe, who in 1391 wrote the penitential treatise The Two Ways (ed. Scattergood). On the historical context of Clanvowe’s work, see J. Scattergood, “Date.”↩back to note source

139 Emanuel. The birth of Jesus, according to Matthew 1:23, fulfilled a prophecy that a child would be born who would be called in Hebrew “Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.”↩back to note source

152–58 Folk angelik . . . flamme of seraphyn. Once again (comparelines 13–15, above), the poet uses the choirs of angels as comparison to his subject: this time, it is to underscore the superiority of knights over other men.↩back to note source

159 man shal ben angelike. Speaking of believers, Mark writes: “For when they shall rise again from the dead, they shall neither marry, nor be married, but are as the angels in heaven” (12:25). Here, the poet extends this notion to its seemingly logical end: men shall replace the fallen angels to fill the choirs of heaven (lines 163–65).↩back to note source

93–165 O Jesse flour . . . shal fulfille. Having at last begun translating the text of Vegetius (lines 89–92), the poet quickly diverges from his source’s account of the Roman emperors in order to insert this lengthy discussion of Christian militarism. For a detailed discussion, see Nall, Reading and War, pp. 119–24.↩back to note source

166–72 Of myghty men . . . I wil fyne. This stanza, translating the “Ancient Synopsis” of Vegetius, presents the entirety of the poet’s scope: lines 166–67 are the subject matter of the present section, Part I; lines 168–69 are the subject matter of Part II; lines 169–70 are the subject matter of Part III; and lines 171–72 are the subject matter of Part IV.↩back to note source

177 Reserve theim to labour and to lore. This advice does not appear in Vegetius.↩back to note source

173–79 Th’electioun of werreours . . . an hardinesse. Ethnography was of great interest to classical writers, including Vegetius and his predecessors. These writings, in turn, were happily received by medieval writers, who adapted and greatly expanded them for their own ends (T. Smith, “National Identity,” pp. 50–66). The most widely read of these was Bartholomaeus Anglicus’s De proprietatibus rerum, finished in the 1240s. Its massive number of surviving copies bears testament to its wide readership: two hundred complete and another seventy-three extracted, fragmentary, or heavily modified manuscripts survive of the original Latin text alone (Meyer, Enzyklopädie des Bartholomäus Anglicus, pp. 41–137; see corrections in Bartholomaeus Anglicus, De proprietatibus rerum, ed. Van den Abeele et al., pp. 18–21). In 1397 it was translated into Middle English by John Trevisa.↩back to note source

194–95 In soden case . . . that pleasaunce. The difficult grammar of these lines appears to be due to the poet’s misunderstanding of his source: Vegetius’s advice regards the need to ready city recruits if a long campaign emerges, not, as the poet translates it, a sudden one.↩back to note source

204 chivalers. This marks the first of many instances where the poet, in the course of translating the late-Antique Vegetius, introduces additional information — in this case, a preference for the youthful training of knights — that contemporizes or updates his source.↩back to note source

221 No fere is it to fight. The very real fear experienced by men in combat is rarely discussed directly in medieval writings. The most obvious example is in the Middle French poem, Les Voeux du héron (ca. 1346), in which John of Beaumont (d. 1356) describes how when he and other men “are in the field”: “all our limbs fail us entirely, / And our enemies are approaching us, / Then we would rather be hidden in a cellar so deep / That no one could ever find us” (ed. Grigsby and Lacy, lines 369, 372–75). On fear in battle more generally, see A. Taylor, “Chivalric Conversation,” and C. Taylor, “Military Courage.”↩back to note source

227–28 Tideus . . . no pere. The reference — which is in Vegetius — is to a Homeric description of Diomedes’s father, Tydeus, who is described as a man of small stature but mighty deeds (Iliad, trans. Alexander, 5.801). Although Homer was not read in the original Greek in late-medieval England, there were many adaptations of his stories in Latin that provided readers with different versions of his story and others during the Trojan War. However, these were not first-hand translations, but instead variants of the story through other writers. It was not until 1362 that the Italian scholar Leontius Pilatus completed his translations of Homer’s two epic poems, but these did not circulate widely.↩back to note source

236–42 The gentil . . . bees gete. The poet here very loosely translates Vegetius’s quotation of Virgil’s Georgics (trans. Fairclough, 4.92–94).↩back to note source

247 Kne deep. It is somewhat unclear what the poet is referring to here. MED kne-depe is an adjectival construction that means, as it does today, being knee-deep in something. This cannot apply in the current context. The equivalent passage in Vegetius says nothing about knees, though it does refer to well-shaped calves and feet that are free of fat. Given metrical constraints, the poet may be referring to knees having a “deep” cut due to the firm muscle on either side of the joint.↩back to note source

252 werrys shourys. Proverial; see Whiting S277, which cites Chaucer’s TC: “Men sen alday, and reden ek in stories, / That after sharpe shoures ben victories” (3.1063–64).↩back to note source

261 Stoor is not soor. Proverbial; see Whiting S796.↩back to note source

271–77 If chivalers . . . in memory. Whereas Vegetius writes broadly of how “decent birth” often begets a “suitable soldier” (Epitome, trans. Milner, p. 8), the poet constrains this advice of class distinctions into military roles: good breeding is a matter of concern for knights, in particular — a distinction that moves him to expound on chivalric ideas.↩back to note source

275–77 And shame . . . in memory. Here the poet stresses the importance for knights to be brave and seek honor so that they will be remembered well. This is frequently tied to the recurring tension between bravery and pragmatism, especially in the precepts of various chivalric orders. The Company of the Star, founded in 1351 by Jean II, king of France, is famously described by the Liège chronicler Jean le Bel:

At least once a year the king would hold a plenary court which all the companions would attend, and where each would recount all the adventures — the shameful as well as the glorious — that had befallen him since he’d last been at the noble court; and the king would appoint two or three clerks who would listen to these adventures and record them all in a book, so that they could annually be brought before the companions to decide which had been most worthy, that the most deserving might be honoured. . . Moreover, they had to vow never knowingly to retreat more than four arpents [ca. 280 meters] from a battle: they would either fight to the death or yield as prisoners. (True Chronicles, trans. Bryant, p. 217)

However, after a few years most of the order were killed at the battles of Mauron (1352) and Poitiers (1356), and the Company was disbanded shortly thereafter (Boulton, Knights of the Crown, pp. 174–88).

279 wagys. D&A regard the poet as here in “error” for having utilized wages where Vegetius refers to “years of service” (p. 115n279). As Nall observes, however, this is almost assuredly a case in which “the translator was updating and recontextualising De re militari for a fifteenth-century audience, rather than mistranslating and mindlessly adding words for the sake of rhyme” (“Perceptions of Financial Mismanagement,” p. 124; Reading and War, pp. 53–54). The poet’s concerns here thus reflect broader contemporary concerns about the roles of wages, supplies, and discipline in diagnosing English defeat in the Hundred Years War (see the Introduction).↩back to note source

285 Civilians. Here, the term means “an authority on or administrator of civil law” (MED civilian,–ien). It was not until the modern period that ‘civilian’ took on its commonly-understood meaning of somebody not involved in war.↩back to note source

292–93 knyghthode . . . bacheler elect. Here and throughout the poet uses bacheler to mean ‘recruit’ rather than the knightly position of knight bachelor, a lower ranked knight who fought under the banner of another knight, typically a knight banneret, who had his own banner. See also note to lines 1853–54, below.↩back to note source

300–01 Conflicte is not so sure in multitude / As in the myght. The idea of numbers not mattering as much as other factors, especially bravery or divine support, is a biblical trope (see 1 Machabees 3:18–19) commonly expressed in medieval descriptions of war.↩back to note source

307 How may a thing informal fourme me. Building on the previous line — a fairly direct translation of Vegetius — the poet here reveals his erudition: in Middle English, a thing informal lacks form; that is, it fails to accord with the rules of logic, one of the three fundamental arts of the medieval education (the Trivium: grammar, logic, rhetoric). The poet thus wonders, in a rhetorical flourish (rhetoric being a second aspect of the Trivium), how something illogical could provide substance . . . a clever play, in turn, on the theological underpinnings of God providing form — both physical and logical — to Creation.↩back to note source

311–12 Celsus Cornelius . . . Vegetius. Celsus Cornelius (25 BCE–50 CE) is famed for an encyclopedic work of which only the medicinal book survives. Cato the Elder (234–149 BCE), general and statesman, wrote one of the first histories of Rome: his now-fragmentary art of war, De re militari, was heavily used by Vegetius. Vegetius also listed as authorities Frontinus and Paternus (secretary to Marcus Aurelius), as well as the imperial constitutions of Augustus, Trajan, and Hadrian. That Vegetius should have his own name listed among those whose works he accorded such honor would no doubt please him.↩back to note source

319 the good angel us lede. The poet is likely referring to angelic guidance in general; the image, after all, is a popular one in Christian stories. Within the Bible itself, it is an angel who brings word to the Holy Family that they must flee to Egypt to escape Herod’s massacre of the innocents (Matthew 2:13–21).↩back to note source

325–26 And XX ML pace . . . over blyve. Roman practice was to divide the daylight hours of a given day into twelve equal parts, thus making summer hours longer than winter hours. In describing the Roman military pace, Vegetius specified that the hours in question were summer hours, which equate to approximately six hours by our standardized divisions of time today. Thus the Roman military pace being described was roughly 3.33 mph, quite close to the 3.4–3.5 mph pacing that is standard marching pace in most modern militaries today.↩back to note source

332 to serche or sture. Where Vegetius remarks specifically on the speed of runners in both coming and going from scouting, the poet allows serche to cover all, while adding that runners also have a use in “stirring” — likely a reference to acts of incitement.↩back to note source

334 Rennynge is also right good at the chace. While true, it was far more effective to use men on horseback to chase down the enemy as they fled the battlefield. Battles in the later Middle Ages were mostly fought on foot, although leaders sometimes kept reserves of horsemen or had horses at the ready to mount and pursue the defeated enemy.↩back to note source

342 brigge. Bridges were of great strategic importance, especially in spring when rivers swelled. Due to their equipment and supplies, armies could only cross rivers with the use of bridges or after finding an appropriate location to ford, both of which would have been well known to defending forces and thus well guarded. Among the many occasions highlighting the importance of bridges on campaign, the 1346 Crécy campaign of Edward III is one of the most famed (see Livingston, “Losses Uncountable,” pp. 8–11).↩back to note source

346–47 Knyght . . . is to lere. The importance of having supporting members of the army, such as cooks, able to keep up with the advance of the main force is best illustrated in the example of Edward III’s 1327 Weardale campaign, in which a portion of the English army advanced to try to find the Scots, but left nearly all of their supplies and other supporting men behind them. Their misery is described in extensive detail by Jean le Bel, who claims to have accompanied the English army on the campaign (True Chronicles, trans. Bryant, pp. 38–44).↩back to note source

357 as wel swordmen as knyghtys. D&A consider swordmen to refer to Vegetius’s gladiatores, and that the poet thereby “breaks his rule of omitting details specifically Roman” (p. 117n357), but the swordsmen referred to are far more likely to be contemporary sword-armed footmen (a gladius being a sword, after all) than arena fighters.↩back to note source

371 Seynt George. During the late Middle Ages, St. George, a Roman soldier martyred for his faith, grew increasingly popular in England. He would become the patron saint of England during the English Reformation, but here, in this far earlier text, his importance as a national figure is already clear.↩back to note source

375 It is the Turk. D&A (pp. 117–18n373–375) note that it was a fairly common practice in the Middle Ages to dress up training pillars to appear as Saracens.↩back to note source

398 doctour. A doctour, in Middle English, most typically means an authority, particularly one in theological matters, but extending down through the arts and sciences. The poet’s use of the term to apply to a drill instructor is due to Vegetius’s use of the Latin term campidoctor (drillmaster).↩back to note source

401 prince. The poet collapses Vegetius’s ranks of Roman officers into a more general authority figure.↩back to note source

402 whete . . . barly. This differentiation of grains, which comes from Vegetius, reflects Roman agricultural production and eating habits. Wheat was the preferred grain to eat, but barley was a hardier crop that could be grown across a wider range of soils and was therefore much cheaper to buy.↩back to note source

399–403 For double wage . . . in armys fight. D&A regard the poet’s translation as a “misrepresentation of the original facts” (pp. 118–19n399), but it is hardly so mistaken as they surmise: only the specificity of inadequate trainees needing to prove themselves tymes VIII or IX (line 401) is lacking in Vegetius, who simply says multiple demonstrations were necessary.↩back to note source

404 Res publica right commendabil is. Classical discussions of such topics as governance and war were popular in fifteenth-century England, especially thanks to a wider availability of Roman writings, both in Latin and in English and French translations. These led writers to discuss alternative ideas of government and the role of knights and other warriors in society more openly. Such ideas were particularly influential in France (Allmand, “Changing Views of the Soldier”).↩back to note source

411 Caton. I.e., Cato the Elder. See note to lines 311–12, above.↩back to note source

420 artilaunce. MED, with the sole citation of this line in D&A, provides the vague definition of “?Arms, the use of arms.” Given the spelling and context of the term, however, it is likely that the poet has in mind a neologism regarding the art of using the launce, a term that could mean equally a horseman’s spear (a lance in Modern English) or one that is thrown (often termed a javelin).↩back to note source

431 The werreours thus taught, shal make peax. D&A regard this addition by the poet as a “transition from the general body of soldiers, who, having acquired these accomplishments, may ‘rest in peace’ (a very unmilitary expression), to the one-third or one-fourth selected for further training” (p. 119n431). This appears to be the thinking behind MED pes (n., sense 5e), which cites this line meaning “to conclude one’s military training.” However, one should not neglect the greater vision of the poet that warriors sufficiently trained — and wars thereby sufficiently won — are meant to bring about a sufficient peace. This idea that peace might be had through war was commonly expressed in other writings on war, especially English narrative sources (T. Smith, “National Identity,” pp. 131–36). However, battles were rarely decisive. Wars in the later Middle Ages were fought on a large scale and were anything but brief.↩back to note source

440–41 if so be thou ride, / On hors is eek the bowys bigge uphale. English archers, though they could ride horses on campaign, dismounted to fight. Archers fighting from horse were more the purview of eastern forces, most notably those encountered by crusaders.↩back to note source

442 Smyte in the . . . bak. The poet’s instruction that it is acceptable to strike your enemy in the back appears to go against ideas of what it was to be an honorable knight. However, ideas of chivalry were quite fluid and difficult to pin down in the Middle Ages. There does not seem to have been any strict rules on where you could or could not attack your enemy in battle, so long as you were not breaking some sort of pre-existing agreement or oath on what you would or would not do. Rules in jousts were more restrictive, however.↩back to note source

448 Caton. I.e., Cato the Elder. See note to lines 311–12, above.↩back to note source

450 Claudius. Appius Claudius Pulcher (d. 211 BCE), who served as Roman consul in 212 BCE, was an active, if not always successful, commander in the Second Punic War. He was one of the two commanders during the siege of Capua, at which light-infantry velites (dart-throwing skirmishers) were first utilized. Vegetius gives Pulcher credit for this development, though most writers give the honor to his fellow consul at the siege, Quintus Fluvius Flaccus.↩back to note source

451 Affricanus Scipio. Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus (236–183 BCE) was a Roman general and consul (205–04 BCE), best-known for defeating Hannibal at the battle of Zama (202 BCE), for which Scipio was given the agnomen of Africanus.↩back to note source

457 breketh ofte and breseth flesh and bonys. MED brisen, sense 1a cites this line’s breseth under the meaning “shatters,” but flesh does not fracture. It should be listed as sense 5, meaning “bruises,” thus sensibly giving the line as “often breaks bones and bruises flesh.”↩back to note source

463 caste stoon. It is not entirely clear what sort of “casting” of stones the poet imagines here, whether through slings, by hand, or tossing down from city or castle walls.↩back to note source

469 grete estatys. The poet here truncates Vegetius’s discussion of ancient Illyricum, which was said to have had two legions that used these weapons to great effect.↩back to note source

472–73 Dioclisian / And his co-emperour, Maxymyan. Gaius Aurelius Valerius Diocletianus and Marcus Aurelius Valerius Maximianus were co-emperors of the Roman Empire (r. 286–305), with the former in charge of the east and the latter the west. They are notable for persecuting Christians, although it appears that Maximian only did so at the instruction of Diocletian.↩back to note source

474–79 The chivalers . . . sword and shelde. Running around and leaping onto a horse from the ground while in full armor is not as far-fetched as it sounds, as has been demonstrated by the rigorous practical experiments by Daniel Jaquet et al. (“Range of Motion”).↩back to note source

488–89 And exercise him . . . to were. Contrary to the popular image of knights in full plate plodding along with little mobility, a properly fitted suit of armor would allow great freedom of movement. The poet here advocates men training in their armor so that they can be better used to bearing the extra weight while on campaign and, most importantly, in combat. Other writers occasionally describe such practice, most notably the anonymous writer of the biography of Jean II Le Maingre, Boucicaut (1366–1421). See note to lines 474–79, above.↩back to note source

488–94 And exercise him . . . dar wel fight. The poet deems to skip much of the next chapter of his source (Veg. 1.20), which is a long discussion of historical arms and armaments that had fallen out of use even in Vegetius’s time. In its place, the poet provides advice about keeping battle-gear in good condition before picking up Vegetius’s final words about the effect of armaments on courage (lines 493–94).↩back to note source

500–01 For faute of wacch . . . not preved. D&A rightly note that this couplet “may allude to some skirmish in the wars of the Roses,” but they err in stating that “it is impossible to identify the occasion” (p. 121n500–501). There is every reason to suspect that the event referenced is in fact the First Battle of St. Albans, fought on May 22, 1455, just a few short years prior to the poem’s assumed date of composition. In the engagement, the assaulting Yorkists attacked Lancastrian positions within the town with such speed that they caught many of the defenders unprepared for battle: according to the contemporary account of the “Phillipps Relation,” Sir Robert Ogle and his men had already seized the market when “the larum [alarm] belle was ronge, and every man yed to harneys, for at that tyme every man was out of ther aray, and they joynid batayle anon” (Ed. Gairdner, Paston Letters 3.30), and at least one report of the battle, popularized by the London chronicles, even accuses the Yorkist earl of Warwick of commencing his assault while negotiations were still in progress (Armstrong, “Politics and the Battle of St. Albans,” p. 39). The Lancastrians were routed, King Henry VI was captured, and the Wars of the Roses were begun in earnest. Such a lack of preparedness could well be termed both a failure of the watch (the poet’s present subject) and a reason why being consistently harnessed for battle was necessary (the poet’s previous subject).↩back to note source

504 watir deep myd-thigh. This addition to Vegetius, described by D&A as “for rhyme’s sake merely” (p. 121n504), is to the contrary quite pertinent to real-world logistics. A water source must be of sufficient depth both to have enough volume for the sustenance of the army and to ensure that it is not immediately tainted by its use.↩back to note source

502–08 To make . . . therfro. Armies in the Middle Ages often constructed temporary defensive structures while besieging an enemy fortification or encamping in hostile territory, although these were rarely to the sort of scale advocated by the poet here.↩back to note source

519 estward. Orienting the camp estward by default appears to be a Christian emendation to Roman practices added by Vegetius. See also note to lines 528–29, below.↩back to note source

523–24 centenaryes . . . dragonys. The dragon was commonly employed by the Romans as a standard, although perhaps not to the extent that Vegetius suggests. It clearly resonated with the poet and other English readers, as Geoffrey of Monmouth, in his De gestis Britonum (ca. 1095–ca. 1155), states that it is the standard of King Arthur and his father, Uther Pendragon, who is himself inspired by Merlin’s prophecies, in which dragons play a prominent role (ed. Reeve, §§ 111–13, 116, 132–33, 135, 147, 164, 168, 171).↩back to note source

525 Gorgona the wicche. Gorgons were mythical creatures frequently portrayed in Greek and Roman literature. They are often depicted with hair made of snakes. Those who looked upon them were turned to stone. The most famous of these was Medusa, who is killed by Perseus in various stories. Despite its popularity in stories, the gorgon was not used as a common heraldic charge in the high and late Middle Ages. The poet might be contrasting the gorgon, as a defensive symbol (they defeat those who attack them by turning them to stone), with the dragon mentioned above, an offensive symbol (they fly around, attack people, and seize treasure).↩back to note source

528–29 Ther trespassers . . . north, or westward. The poet seems to have been confused by an admittedly confusing passage. Roman practice, according to Vegetius, was to arrange the camp with its main gate pointed north, or toward the enemy or the line of march. Christian influence shifted this north-south axis to an east-west axis, with the main gate now pointed east: the direction of the rising sun and, roughly speaking, Jerusalem. Vegetius is clear that any delinquent soldiers were taken out the rear gate for their punishment, which would be either the gate to the west (in a Christian-influenced practice) or south (in the traditional practice). Between all this talk of compass points, the poet ended up with the traditional rear gate on the opposite side from where it should be.↩back to note source

530–37 In III maneer a strengthe is to be walled . . . a dike tumultuary. While the poet recognizes that Vegetius says there are three different ways to fortify a camp, he grows confused on how they relate. The first, according to Vegetius, is a simple 3-foot trench, with the turf piled to one side as a simple barrier (lines 532–34). The second is a more extensive 9-feet broad, 7-feet deep trench with the earth piled up accordingly; the poet mistakenly adds this to the first to create a 10-foot deep earthwork (lines 534–37). The third option is the ditch that is 12-feet broad and 9-feet deep.↩back to note source

547–48 That stake of pith which every man himselve / Hath born. Some men in armies occasionally carried stakes of wood with them for temporary defense works. The most famous example of this is the English archers at Agincourt (1415), who deployed their pointed stakes in front of them to defend against the charges of the mounted French knights.↩back to note source

578 undir grate. MED grate (n.3), sense1c cites this line as the sole occurrence of the meaning “?a breastplate,” extending this sense (without explanation) from the word graper, which was the leather grip on the back of a lance that helped a knight stabilize the weapon against his side. Even if a grate could be a graper but really mean a breastplate — nowhere else is this so — such a usage would fail to make sense in the discussion of field formations here unfolding. To the contrary, MED graten (v.), sense 1c, meaning an attack, fits the context quite perfectly.↩back to note source

572–78 We werreours . . . to prevaile. Of note, the poet here moves into first-person as he describes the actions of the warriors in battle. As Nall points out, here and elsewhere the first-person is used to “emphasise the author’s solidarity with the Lancastrian cause” (Reading and War, pp. 136). It does not, however, indicate that the writer was once a combatant (D&A, p. xxxii n2). See also lines 1633–41 and 2637.↩back to note source

598 Bowed, tacled, darted, jacked, saladed. This string of participles, referring to bows, arrows, darts, padded jack, and sallets, summarizes the principle that men should be equipped with their proper equipment while marching to stay fit. It does not mean that all men, even men-at-arms, would be armed with all of this equipment.↩back to note source

614–20 Th’electioun . . . not to tary. The poet skips over the final chapter of Vegetius (1.28), which concludes Part I with a discussion of Roman valor and a repeated call for the adequate training of forces of arms.↩back to note source