1215 Theme Music
“To tell the story of Neapolis requires patience—it is not a tale for the faint of heart, nor the easily distracted. Often great men rise and fall through the grace of God or their own twisted will… but Neapolis? Fate’s subtle tricks held more sway during those four days than the most fervent prayer or the stoutest swordarm.” – Albrecht von Franken,
On the Danes
From Robert Eddington’s Days of Decision: Great Battles and Their Impact on History, pg. 145
The spring campaign season of 1215 exploded into a vast array of movements, as six armies and two emperors tangled on a front stretching from the grasslands of the steppe to the Caucasus Mountains. No less than 340,000 soldiers started to move between the months of April and May—arguably the vastest armed expedition in history up to that point.
The initial goal of the Great Khan’s entire invasion was almost within reach—The Russian steppe was already half Mongol. All that stood in the way of the Khan and pasturing the Horde’s horses on the grasses between the Volga and the Dneister were the forces of Sortmark, the Roman Empire, and the remnants of the Rus Kingdom. Beyond this, Genghis had a mighty dream—to seize the rumored fertile plains beyond those of Russia, and lunge deep into a new continent…
Europe.
But in order to do this, the greatest threat to Mongol power and hegemony on the Russian steppes needed to be dealt with. While the Roman Empire had historically been disinclined to project their power into the vast empty places of the grasslands, their rich cities and valuable trade routes proved irresistible lures, while their powerful armies stood as grim threats to Mongol power. For the dream of the Khan to become a reality, the Roman Empire had to be broken.
So that spring the Mongols launched themselves into a flurry of activity. Batu’s northern host, some 30,000 or so altogether, immediately crossed the Volga and lunged into the land of the Danes. Several
jarls, charged with guarding the homelands, attempted to make a stand outside of Christina but were utterly decimated. The Roman-Allied army under Sinan of Byzantion attempted to rush to the scene, but on seeing that his men were outnumbered, Sinan pulled back, leading to a deadly dance of maneuver between his army and that of Batu’s, the Romans feinting and retreating, the Mongols constantly hard on their heels.
To the south, Jochi faced the seemingly impossible task of both controlling the Roman army in the Caucasus, as well as taking the Roman port of Sochi to provide the distraction his father needed. To only further add insult to injury, the eldest son of the Great Khan was expected to engage perhaps the most gifted of the Roman
strategoi, Mahmud of Byzantion. Initially, the Mongols launched a series of probing forays south, hoping to stir the
Megos Domestikos into giving away his position, yet for two months, nothing moved within the mountains. Wary, Jochi decided to split his army in two—one half would ride to Sochi to begin the siege, the other would block the Caucasus passes.
It was then, finally, that Mahmud Byzantion moved, after these seeming months of torpor, quickly striking northwards with his host of 25,000 infantry and 10,000 cavalry. Jochi’s troops guarding the passes were outflanked, and the Mongols were forced to pull out the
tumen aiding the siege of Sochi to backtrack and meet Mahmud in battle. Yet as they approached the Roman armies, almost inexplicably, they began to retreat. Jochi gave chase, following the Romans until they retreated into the mountains. Sensing a trap, Jochi’s army pulled up short, beginning a four month game of cat and mouse amongst the Caucasus passes between the two forces.
In the center, the Great Khan detached three
tumen from his main army, attempting to lure the Roman Emperor away from the Black Sea and deeper into the steppe grasslands—yet Emperor Thomas refused to rise to the bait, instead holding his position outside of Tmutarakan. For months, the Great Khan tried every ruse he could to get the Romans to leave their prepared defenses, to no avail. It would take something else, further to the east, to finally break the stalemate in the middle.
Sochi fell on the 21st of July.
Immediately the Chinese and Korean soldiers went to work, dismembering the town’s wooden churches and homes to build a series of thirty rush-built warships, intent on providing the distraction the Great Khan felt was needed. Almost immediately, the Romans dispatched a squadron of galleys to watch the harbor.
However, even with the ships hurriedly completed and crewed, the impromptu Mongol navy was hardly effective—few of the Korea and Chinese laborers had been sailors in their homelands, and the Mongols had little idea of naval tactics or strategy. Consequently, the only time these thirty ships (coincidentally, the only ships remotely resembling junks to ever sail on the Black Sea) attempted to break out from Sochi, a small detachment of seven
biremes under one
drouganios Ioannis Spartenos easy overcame them, holing and sinking four, while capturing another three before the rest of the fleet scrambled back into harbor.
The Jin and Song engineers that accompanied the expedition of the Great Khan would have had basic knowledge of shipbuilding along the traditions available in the Far East—with innovative propulsion and massive towers to allow missile troops maximum effect. However, these war junks were crewed by novices, not skilled sailors, and their strength and power were easily outmatched by the speed and naptha of Roman biremes.
With Sochi fallen, the Roman Emperor finally left the massive prepared camps around Tmutarakan, but the immense Roman host was content following the coast towards Sochi, camping at natural harbors, keeping in contact with their greatest advantage over their adversaries—the strategic supply and mobility of a large and well equipped fleet. The Great Khan quickly moved south as well, interposing himself between Thomas and the fallen Roman city. While the Roman emperor was content to send scouts and skirmishers to harass the Mongol camps, Thomas skillfully disengaged whenever the equally lumbering (thanks to the thousands of levied Chinese and Korean infantry) Mongol forces attempted to force an engagement.
Not once, but four times the Roman emperor and a
tagmata or two of the Imperial guard tangled or brushed one of Genghis’
tumen. While these small battles missed most history books, they nonetheless had their importance—they convinced the Great Khan that at all costs, the Roman Emperor had to be defeated in the field for
any other objectives to be completed. However as this slow waltz of steel meandered along the Pontic coast, events elsewhere brought things to head.
Further to the north, Sinan of Byzantion and Batu’s deadly dance had continued. Here, the Roman and Rus allied force was outnumbered, 25,000 to 30,000, and even more greatly in horse—an advantage that Batu consistently used to his advantage. In a series of daring and spectacular forced marches, the Mongol
Noyan outfoxed Sinan, pinning the Roman against the one feature his army could not allow to fall.
Havigraes, capital of the Danes of Sortmark. On 19th of August battle was joined, and the overextended Roman-Rus army was ambushed and flanked by Batu’s more numerous horsemen. Not only was the Allied force defeated, but Havigraes itself was sacked. Defeated and facing annihilation, Sinan retreated the only direction he could—towards his Emperor, along the Black Sea coast.
The burning of Havigraes would become a seminal moment in the history of the Danish people on the steppe, living on in lore and memory for generations to come.
Hearing of his commander’s desperation, Thomas decided on a risky gamble. On the night of September 8th, he dispatched five
tagmata of the Imperial Guard northwards, over 20,000 men, under the command of the
Prostratos, with orders to reinforce Sinan and, if practical, break Batu’s army. Lainez showed himself once again to be a deadly commander, successfully crossing the steppe while bamboozling most of the Mongol scouts. As Batu and Genghis planned their next moves, they only had word that a single
tagmata was moving north—not five.
Sinan of Byzantion showed his worth as well. At the Battle of the Volga, on September 30th, 1215, he successfully demonstrated with his tired and beleaguered force long enough for Lainez to arrive on the Mongol flank. Facing such a weakend foe, Batu had dispatched half of his brother Chagatai’s
tumen to deal with the expected 3,500 Romans. When the
Noyan in command of those units did not report back, Batu dispatched his brother, along with the rest of the
tumen to investigate, only moments before 18,000 Romans came thundering over a ridge and into the Mongol flank.
The Volga was the first sharp, direct defeat the Mongols had suffered in the Russian theater. Out of nearly 28,000 engaged, Batu lost nearly 10,000 troops, including the backbone of Chagatai’s
tumen and Chagatai himself, who became a Roman prisoner. In comparison, the Roman losses of 5,000 out of nearly 37,000 engaged seemed paltry.
Lainez raising his arm in salute to Sinan of Byzantion after the Battle of the Volga. This print is from a much later era—its Aionite illustrator portrayed the Romans in garb much more suited for campaigning in the deserts of Arabia, not the steppe of southern Russia.
The results of this debacle were immediate. Batu pulled his surviving 18,000 men south, leaving Lainez and Sinan free to maneuver in Genghis Khan’s rear. However, the Great Khan was slowly probing south, and the Emperor was concerned that at any moment, the Mongol ruler might finally realize the Roman army before him was missing nearly 40% of its crack core Consequently, on the advice of Mehtar Lainez (who advised the Mongols were unlikely to have a supply train to raid anyways), Thomas ordered both Sinan and Lainez back south. By November 8th, both had joined the Imperial Army of the North, swelling its numbers back up to nearly 110,000 men.
In Sochi, Genghis Khan could do little more than gnash his teeth, and absorb the remnants of Batu’s force. Chagatai’s
tumen was disbanded, its remnants absorbed into Batu’s. As long as Thomas moved along the coast, Genghis found his position almost unassailable, while the Emperor dared not move too far from his naval lifelife—due to the continual harping of Mehtar Lainez,
every Roman commander was well aware of the fate of the Rus outside Novgorod.
Yet at the same time, the Great Khan was dealing with rumblings within his own ranks. The
tumen were far from home, they had been on campaign for the better part of a decade. Added to that, the stories of the Volga made the Mongol tribesmen, antsy. Yet, as September had already come and gone, the Great Khan had little choice. With the defeat of his northern of his flanking army, and the neutralization of the other in a protracted mountain campaign, Genghis Khan reluctantly ordered his
tumen north into the Russian steppes for winter forage.
Both sides absorbed what they had learned through that long campaign season—the Romans realized that the Mongols were indeed vulnerable, a force that could be dealt with. The Mongols realized that the Romans were far more disciplined and ingenious than they had heard or planned for. Lessons learned, both sides immediately began applying their knowledge to the new, coming campaign.
By March of 1216, both armies were in the field again—Thomas’ swollen force now approaching 120,000 men, reinforcements from Cherson and further south engorging his numbers. However, these 15,000
thematakoi were not exactly welcome—the Princes had lead them without imperial order, and the Emperor now had 15,000 more mouths to feed, troops he wouldn’t put in his front line anyway.
The Mongol armies swelled slightly as well. Batu’s remainder joining with his father enlarged the Mongol army to seven
tumen plus auxiliaries, a grand force nearing 98,000 men. It was now apparent that pecking on the Emperor’s flanks would not yield any result, so Genghis Khan resolved to end things like he’d ended things with the Jin, the Khwarezm Shah, and countless other foes.
One battle.
One final decision.
The Mongols broke their great camp on the Volga on March 29th, 1216, and immediately set out south. Back to the sea or no, near the mountains or no, Genghis was determined to break this Roman Emperor, his army, and his empire, once and for all. Seemingly answering history’s call, Emperor Thomas slid his army north, across the hills bordering the Pontic coast, edging ever so slightly into the lower flatlands to the south of the Kuban River. Finally, on May 18th, 1216, outside the tiny Greek colony of Neapolis,
Theme of Imeretia, the fate of the known world would be decided, on a battlefield so wide, so chaotic, that no one could fully control or predict what was about to occur...
The great battlefield outside Neapolis, May 18th, 1216.
Greens indicate Mongol and foreign (Chinese and Korean) contingent forces. Yellow/Brown indicates troops from the Kingdom of the Rus, Reds indicate troops from Sortmark, Blues represent various imperial and thematakoi troops, while purples represent the Imperial Guard cavalry contingents.
In terms of scale, the encounter was enormous for both empires. While the Mongols had fought Jin and Song armies approaching this size, the Romans had never mustered a single field army on one battlefield this large since Yarmuk, centuries before. Emperor Thomas arrayed his armies along a low ridge along a 13 mile front, placing his thematakoi on the left where rough terrain would shield their position from Mongol charges, his dependable tagmata skoutatoi and sarissaphoi in the middle, and the Rus and Danes on the left behind the Ghusmal Stream. Interestingly, the Emperor arrayed his cavalry last, placing his best heavy cavalry regiments into four massive wedges…
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And so you have it! The great clash is upon us…
Currently I'm up in Milwaukee, Wisconsin for my brother's wedding. Consequently, I'm away from my computer, and I won't be back until late tomorrow night (28 hours or so). Update might be up Monday night... if not, it'll be up later, perhaps Wednesday...
