Oh the warhorses essay, the piece that most thoroughly baffled me every time I’ve written about Montaigne. Perhaps the only way to tackle it is one disconnected quip at a time. Montaigne wrote:
The Mamelukes boast of having the most skilful horses of any knights in the world: they say that their nature and training are such that they can be brought to identify and recognize the enemy against whom they are to charge using teeth and hoofs, following the word of command or the signal given to them.
What? The Mamelukes actually exist? I thought DeNiro just made them up when he ad libbed in “Raging Bull:”
You don’t understand. They made me fight a bum. A BUM, a Mameluke!
Jake LaMotta may have called the Mamelukes bums, but he was really lucky not to face off with their horses. Imagine a guy getting pummeled by LaMotta for three rounds and then shouting, “attack Jake, Prickly Pete!” And with teeth!
I just combined “Raging Bull” and (an extremely obscure) “Seinfeld” reference and should probably take a bow. But I continue …
Caesar is said in his youth to have ridden, bareback and without bridle, at full gallop with his hands behind his back.
And to anyone who thinks that the Caesar’s Sportsbook advertisements are already running low on creativity, take heart, there’s so much more randomness to come.
Many colorful tales of gallant men and their trusty steeds follow this until, out of nowhere, Montaigne drops this onto us:
When pressed by necessity in war, the Scythians drew blood from their horses and drank it for nourishment. When the men of Crete were besieged by Metellus they were so short of anything to drink that they were forced to use their horses’ urine.
I’ve never been in such a desperate spot, but I can’t imagine ever drinking another creature’s blood. As for the urine, wouldn’t you think these soldiers would drink their own before resorting to horse piss? To each his own, I suppose. Some people drink Coors Light.
Montaigne enjoys telling anecdotes that put indigenous people in a positive light, and here he tells a very amusing tale that sure sounds apocryphal to me:
When the Spaniards made their landfall, those new people of the Indies thought that both the men and the horses were either gods or animate creatures of a nobler or higher nature than theirs. When those Indians were defeated some, coming to seek peace and pardon from the men, brought offerings of gold and food which they did not omit to offer to the horses as well, addressing speeches to them exactly as to the humans, interpreting their whinnying as the language of compromise and truce.
I do like that last part—they clearly found the horses to be the more reasonable beings than the Spaniards. I’m curious what kind of compromise the horses offered, however.
A couple of essays back I offered the possibility that Shakespeare borrowed some ideas from Montaigne. I’ll now close out this essay with the theory that the famous scene in “The Empire Strikes Back” where Luke finds warmth inside a Wampa was perhaps stolen from the essays as well:
The army which the Emperor Bajazet sent to Russia was overwhelmed by such a dreadful snowstorm that many sought to shelter themselves from the cold and to save their lives by slaughtering their horses, slitting open their bellies and crawling quickly inside to enjoy their vital heat
I’m actually note sure which Emperor Bajazet did this, Montaigne doesn’t say. But Bajazet II was a great Turkish leader. I’ve run out of witticisms, but if you want to read more about him, I highly recommend this page in the Jewish Encyclopedia.
Leave a Reply