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6. The hour of parleying is dangerous

[Montaigne wrote this when the Siege of Mussidan (April 1569) was fresh in his mind. Mussidan is less than twenty miles from Montaigne itself.]

[A] Nevertheless I recently saw during the siege of near-by Mussidan that those who had been forcibly dislodged by our army, as well as others of their faction, cried out as though it were treachery when, during the negotiations for an agreement, while the proceedings were still under way, they were taken unawares and hacked to pieces: an accusation which in another century might have seemed justified. But as I have just said, our ways are entirely removed from such rules: nowadays people must not trust each other before the very last binding seal has been affixed. And even that is not enough; [C] it is always a hazardous decision to trust that it will be the good pleasure of a victorious army to keep the promises made to a town which has just surrendered upon generous and favourable terms and to allow free entry to the heated soldiery. Lucius Aemilius Regillus, the Roman praetor, having made an assay of taking the town of Phocaea by force, but having wasted his time because of the outstanding prowess shown by the citizens in their defence, made a pact with them by which they would be accepted as Friends of the Roman People, while he would make an entry as into a confederate city; by which he removed all fear of a hostile action. Whereupon, in order to appear in greater pomp, he immediately brought his army in with him; but no matter what effort he employed it was not in his power to restrain his troops: before his very eyes they sacked a large section of the town, the rights of greed and vengeance overriding those due to his office and to army discipline.1

[A] Cleomenes maintained that, no matter what harm you inflicted on an enemy in war-time, that action was, before gods and men, always above the law and in no way subject to it. So having made a seven-day truce with the Argives, he fell upon them three nights later and killed them while they slept, maintaining that nothing had been said in his truce about nighttime. But the gods took revenge on such crafty perfidy.2

[C] During a parley, while the citizens of Casilinum were dithering over their sureties their town was taken by surprise – yet that was during the age of Rome’s justest commanders and of the perfection of the Roman art of war. For it is not said that we may not, at the right time and place, take advantage of the stupidity of our enemies just as we do of their cowardice. (War certainly has by its nature many privileges which are reasonable at reason’s own expense. Here that rule does not apply, ‘Neminem id agere ut ex alterius praedetur inscitia’ [No one should prey on another’s ignorance.]) But I am thunderstruck by the scope which Xenophon gives to those privileges in the plans and the deeds of his perfect general; Xenophon is a marvellously weighty authority on such matters, being a great commander and, as a philosopher, one of the foremost disciples of Socrates; but I do agree in all things everywhere with the measure he dispenses.3

[A] During the siege of Capua, after Monsieur d’Aubigny had given it a furious battering, Signor Fabrizio Colonna, the commander of the city, had begun to parley from the top of a bastion; as his men relaxed their guard, our men seized the town and tore it apart.4 And, more fresh in our memory, Signor Giuliano Romero at Yvoy made the schoolboy howler of coming out to parley with my Lord the Constable, only to find when he got back that his fortress was taken!5 But we were not allowed to get off without due retribution: the Marquis of Pescara was besieging Genoa where Duke Octaviano Fregoso was in command under our protection; negotiations were so far advanced that it was regarded as if all was already over, when, just as they were about to be concluded, the Spaniards slipped into the city and treated it as though they were fully victorious. And since then, at Ligny-en-Barrois, where the Comte de Brienne was in command and where the siege was conducted by the Emperor in person, Bertheville, Brienne’s lieutenant, came out to parley: it was during the bargaining that the town was taken.6

Fu il vincer sempre mai laudabil cosa, Vincasi o per fortuna o per ingegno.

[Victory has ever been worthy of praise, even when due to Fortune or to trickery.]7

They say that. Yet Chrysippus the philosopher would not have agreed: no more than I do. For, he said, those who contest a race must certainly make every effort to run fast, but it is in no ways allowable for them to lay their hand on a rival to stop him nor to thrust out a leg to trip him up.8 [B] And nobler still was the answer made by Alexander the Great to Polypercon, who was urging him one night to take advantage of the darkness to launch an attack against Darius: ‘Certainly not. I am not the man to thieve a victory and then follow it up!’ – ‘Malo me fortunae poeniteat, quam victoriae pudeat.’ [I would rather complain of Fortune than feel ashamed of victory.]9

Atque idem fugientem haud est dignatus Orodem Stemere, nec jacta cæcum dare cuspide vulnus: Obvius, adversoque occurrit, seque viro vir Contulit, haud furto melior, sed fortibus armis.

[Orodes did not deign to strike him in the back as he fled, nor to wound him with an unseen dart. He ran and confronted him, face to face; he fought with him man to man, proving himself superior not by trickery but by mighty arms.]10