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Was The Tale Of Jason And The Argonauts The First Recorded Account Of Maritime Trade And Exploration?

(The Argo, painted by Konstantinos Volanakis  (1837–1907), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

 

The story of Jason and the Argonauts (a large company of heroes, including Heracles) was one of the oldest mythological stories produced in ancient Greece. Even though the oldest recovered full account of the story is the version of Apollonius of Rhodes (written in the 3rd century BCE), the story of Jason and the Argonauts is believed to have existed before the works of Homer in the 8th and 7th century BCE—Homer even adapted parts of Jason’s adventures into The Odyssey and mentioned their famous ship, the Argo, by name.

Some historians believe that the tale of the Argonauts may be the oldest account of human maritime trade and exploration. Lionel Casson proposed that Jason’s adventures across the Black Sea upon the Argo may have been an elaborate analogy or metaphor for ancient maritime trade. Specifically, the theory focuses on the story of the Golden Fleece, supposedly symbolizing the ancient Greeks journeying across the Black Sea to trade for gold. For further evidence, historians have hypothesized that the idea of the ‘Golden Fleece’ derived from the occurrence of ancient peoples in the Black Sea region placing fleece or wool in gold-rich waterways to catch particles of the precious metal.

As always, the interpretation and ranking of relics from the ancient past will continue to change and adapt as new information is found. Older maritime stories than Jason and the Argonauts may be found in the future, and Jason’s adventures may have been originally created without the merest thought for maritime trade. Nevertheless, the theory is interesting to ponder.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

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Giuseppe Fiorelli—The Mastermind Behind The Haunting Plaster Casts Of The Victims of Pompeii

(left: cast of dog and chain from Pompeii, center: portrait of Giuseppe Fiorelli, right: cast of sitting man from Pompeii, all [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

 

The Roman city of Pompeii began undergoing excavation around 1748, when King Charles VII of Naples (the later Charles III of Spain) decided to loot the ancient city’s art for his personal collection. Nearly a century later, the appointment of Giuseppe Fiorelli (1823-1896)—an Italian professor of archaeology from the University of Naples—as the head of the excavation of Pompeii, was a healthy change for the looted city.

Fiorelli directed the excavation of Pompeii from 1863-1875. Although some of his methods remained somewhat primitive and artifact removal, unfortunately, continued to persist, Giuseppe Fiorelli greatly improved the way Pompeii was being preserved. He developed several methods that have been embraced, perfected and enhanced by the next generations of archaeologists that came after him. For one, Fiorelli disapproved of the excavation system of digging out the roadways of Pompeii in order to find and excavate ancient buildings from the street level up. Instead, he found the tops of the structures and excavated the buildings from the top down to the floor-level. In addition to these excavation methods, Giuseppe Fiorelli also studied the topography, city planning and construction of Pompeii. At the end of his term as director of the Pompeii excavation, he published a book called Descrizione di Pompei (Description of Pompeii) in 1875. Yet, out of all of Fiorelli’s innovations, one clearly stands out—the plaster casts of Pompeii.

During his excavations, Giuseppe Fiorelli found that the decomposing and deteriorating materials from the ruins of Pompeii often left empty spaces in the ash that buried the ancient city. These cavities served as natural molds that, when filled with plaster, resulted in statues showing the dead in their final moments. The same technique could be used to cast wooden structures, such as beams and stairs, that had rotted away long ago. Unfortunately, Fiorelli did not clearly document his method for plaster casting, and much of the process remains a mystery. Researchers do know that he often added iron rods to provide structure for the casts of human remains—especially in the casts of large adults. Some casts of children do, however, contain only the original ancient bones underneath the plaster. Despite the dubious nature of Giuseppe Fiorelli’s casting techniques, the plaster casts continue to haunt and inspire viewers to this day, and the evocation of those very emotions is what the root  ‘muse’ is all about in the word, museum.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

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Apollonius of Rhodes

Apollonius of Rhodes (3rd century BCE scholar and poet based out of Alexandria, Egypt)

“Come, Muses, be the surrogates of my song.”

  • From Apollonius of Rhodes’ epic poem, Argonautica (Book I), based on the myth of Jason and the Argonauts. The translation is by Aaron Poochigian (Penguin Classics, 2014).

 

In One Odd Legend, The Ancient Chinese Strategist, Sun Tzu, Trained A King’s Concubines For War

(Tang court ladies from the tomb of Princess Yongtai in the Qianling Mausoleum, near Xi’an in Shaanxi, China. Date 706 AD, with a terracotta warrior, all [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

 

The Art of War is a world famous book that has been studied and interpreted for centuries—yet, despite this, its author, Sun Tzu (or Master Sun), remains quite a vague figure in history. One of the few ancient Chinese sources that attempted to give historical information about Sun Tzu was The Records of the Grand Historian by Sima Qian, who lived around 145-85 BCE. In his history, Sima Qian recorded a really strange tale about Sun Tzu training a troop of concubines for warfare, but most historians do not believe that this story actually occurred. Nevertheless, the tale is interesting and entertaining and deserves to be told.

Sima Qian wrote that Sun Tzu gained an audience with his admirer, King Ho-Lu (r. 514-496 BCE), who ruled the Kingdom of Wu. The king had studied Sun Tzu’s work and was impressed by the strategist’s ideas and methods. Yet, before he put his faith in this man’s military philosophy, the king wanted proof that Sun Tzu could apply his ideas practically. King Ho-Lu then called for a demonstration of Master Sun’s skills—he demanded that Sun Tzu train some fresh recruits into hardened soldiers. For added difficulty, the king decided that these soldiers would be nearly two hundred of his own concubines.

Sun Tzu agreed to train the women without question. He divided the concubines into two companies and promoted two concubines to command their respective companies. When his recruits were ordered and outfitted with weaponry, Sun Tzu called the women out for training and gave them instructions for some basic military drills. The first drill merely consisted of commanding the women to look in certain directions on command. He wanted the women to look forward if he commanded, “eyes front,” and to obey similar commands to direct their attention left, right, and back. When the concubines claimed to understand the drill, Sun Tzu called them to attention.

Despite having just claimed that they were prepared to run through the drill, the women soon began to lose interest. Once Master Sun began the actual drill for the first time, the concubines burst into a fit of giggles. Sun Tzu took sole responsibility for this breach of discipline—he proclaimed that he must not have explained the drill adequately to the women, resulting in his orders not being followed correctly.

For a second time, Sun Tzu instructed the women on how to complete the drill. Look forward, left, right and back on command. Again, the women asserted they were ready to complete the exercise. Nevertheless, as soon as the concubines began the drill, giggles and laughter overtook them, once more.

With this second failure, Sun Tzu had enough. He called in an executioner and condemned to death the two concubine ‘officers’ whom he had appointed to command the two companies of women. These two women, however, were the king’s favorite concubines, and Sun Tzu soon received a message that the women should be given a lesser sentence. In response, Sun Tzu simply stated that, as the king’s appointed general, he had the power and obligation to ensure that the kingdom’s military ran smoothly.

Despite the king’s courtiers trying to dissuade Sun Tzu from his decision, the two concubines were executed. Understandably, after the two officers had been put to death, the rest of the concubines completed any drill Sun Tzu commanded of them in utter, disciplined silence. According to Sima Qian, this was an adequate representation of Sun Tzu’s abilities, and King Ho-Lu invited Master Sun into the inner circle of the Kingdom of Wu.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

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Gregory of Nazianzus

Gregory of Nazianzus (c. 330-390)

“Words do not convince me; I must have deeds.”

  • From Gregory of Nazianzus: Three Poems, translated by Denis Molaise Meehan (Catholic University of America Press, 1987).

 

Marcus Aurelius

Marcus Aurelius (c. 121-180)

“Reason is of a diffusive nature, what itself is in itself, it begets in others, and so doth multiply.”

  • From the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius (Book 9, section 8). The version used here is Xist Publishing edition, 2015.

 

Herodotus Recorded A Folk Tale About A Blind Egyptian King Using Urine To Regain His Eyesight

(Public Domain Egyptian symbols combined with Public Domain water)

 

According to a legend recorded by Herodotus, the Nile River flooded nearly thirty feet higher than usual during the reign of King Pheros of Egypt, a monarch believed to be fictitious by most historians. Apparently, Pheros was so enraged by the Nile River’s destruction that he took a spear or javelin and launched the weapon at the water. The Egyptian gods, however, loathed the king because of this emotional reaction to the river. Soon after King Pheros threw the spear, his eyes became diseased, eventually leading to blindness. For ten years, his blindness persisted without hope, but on the eleventh year, an oracle arrived with knowledge of a cure.

The oracle prescribed for the king a very, very unorthodox cure. The oracle claimed that the king’s blindness would be cured if Pheros could wash his eyes with the urine of a woman who had only slept with her husband. Thinking the cure would be easy to obtain, Pheros went to his wife and collected her urine. He then splashed the foul liquid on his eyes—but to the king’s horror—his wife’s urine did not fulfill the oracle’s requirements.

After his wife’s urine did not do the trick, King Pheros systematically gathered the urine of his female subjects. Finally, after countless failures, the king found a woman who was able to cure his eyesight. Unfortunately, for all the previous women who had failed to meet the criteria, the king held a bitter grudge. According to the legend, King Pheros rounded up all the women whose urine had failed to cure him and locked them in a city called Red Clod by Herodotus. When all of these unfortunate women were locked inside the city, King Pheros burned Red Clod to the ground, killing everyone inside, including his wife.

After massacring the people locked in the city, the king married the woman whose urine had cured his eyesight, and they supposedly lived happily ever after. With that, this bizarre and awkward story about a blind king regaining his eyesight by bathing his eyes in urine comes to a close. Again, King Pheros is not believed to be a real historical figure, and Herodotus’ history is riddled with falsehoods—so think of this story more as folklore and legend. Nevertheless, this bizarre story filled with gallons of urine and mass slaughter is quite an entertaining tale.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Sources:

  • The Histories by Herodotus, translated by Aubrey de Sélincourt and revised by John Marincola. New York: Penguin Classics, 2002.

The Native American, Black Elk, Killed A United States Soldier When He Was Thirteen Years Old

(“The Custer Fight” by Charles Marion Russell  (1864–1926), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

 

Around 1874, the United States discovered there was gold buried in the Black Hills of the Dakota Territory. When this information was made public, prospectors and fortune-seekers poured into the region in search of wealth, all the while disregarding the Treaty of Fort Laramie (1868), in which the U. S. recognized Sioux and Arapaho authority over the region. The United States government did not want to forcibly remove the prospectors from the Black Hills, so they instead offered to purchase the territory from the tribal leaders. When the natives refused to sell, and the gold-hunters continued to arrive, the U. S. finally issued an ultimatum, decreeing that all the Native Americans who did not return to their reservations by late January of 1876 would be considered hostile combatants. When the deadline passed, the military was sent into the Dakota territories to suppress the remaining dissident Native Americans—mainly the Lakota Sioux leaders, Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull. Among the many natives following these two charismatic leaders was a thirteen-year-old boy named Black Elk (1863-1950), who would grow up to be one of the most important figures in Native American religion and mysticism.

In Black Elk Speaks, a pseudo-autobiography narrated by Black Elk, but transcribed and edited by John Neihardt, Black Elk talked about some of the first battles he witnessed or participated in. He stated that his first skirmish occurred when he was thirteen. Black Elk’s family was traveling with a small band of Oglala Lakota Sioux and Cheyennes who were all traveling to join the forces of Crazy Horse. They camped near the Bozeman Trail (probably around May 1876) and spotted a United States wagon train heading their way. The convoy also spotted the Native American scouts and began shooting. When the gunshots started, the Sioux and Cheyennes gathered their weapons and attacked the wagons. Black Elk hesitated only for a moment, then equipped his six-shot revolver that was given to him by his sister and joined in the attack.

When the caravan noticed there was a threat, they made a defensive circle with their wagons, providing shelter for themselves and their animals. The Sioux and Cheyenne warriors began circling around the wagons on their horses, firing shots at the people who were crouching behind their defenses. Black Elk said that he and the warriors kept inching ever closer to the wagons as they rode round and round. Nevertheless, they could not break through the defenses. The warriors finally decided to withdraw and resume their journey to meet with Crazy Horse.

Black Elk also witnessed, and may have participated in, the famous Battle of Little Bighorn on June 25-26, 1876, when he was still only thirteen years of age. He was living in a camp village made of various tribes who decided to fight alongside Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse against the United States. The camp at Little Bighorn (known to the natives as the Greasy Grass) is thought to have been populated by as many as 8,000 people, with more than 1,500 warriors.

The battle occurred when Lt. Colonel George Armstrong Custer camped his 7th Cavalry force of around six hundred men at Wolf Mountain, near the Little Bighorn River. His main objective was to scout out the hostile encampments, and possibly to push the Native Americans into a larger ambush planned by General Terry. Yet, Custer’s men (or his own Native American scouts) were spotted, causing the people of the camp village to panic. After being discovered, Custer decided to attack the enemy immediately.

Custer divided his already outnumbered 7th Cavalry force into three fighting divisions, not including those men handling the supply line and ammunition. Lt. Col. Custer kept one division for himself, and divided the rest between Major Marcus Reno and Captain Frederick Benteen. Reno’s division crossed the Little Bighorn River and attacked the Native American camp from the south. Custer took his troops and threatened the camp from the north. Meanwhile, Benteen hovered with his troops near the center of the enemy camp.

Major Reno’s attack was disastrous. He was outflanked and the Native Americans chased his men down as if they were hunting buffalo. The survivors of the Reno division found their way back to Benteen’s force and they ended up being besieged on a hill until June 26th. Lt. Col. Custer’s division, however, was attacked from multiple angles by forces led by the Sioux leaders, Crazy Horse and Gall (battle leader of the Hunkpapa). Custer and his men were surrounded and were massacred. The rest of the 7th Cavalry were only saved when the Native American force withdrew after they heard that General Terry was approaching with reinforcements.

Black Elk stated that he did not participate in the battle, itself, but he did help the warriors execute the wounded. He scalped at least two soldiers that day. Black Elk commented on one particularly gruesome scalping: “He had short hair and my knife was not very sharp. He ground his teeth. Then I shot him in the forehead and got his scalp” (Black Elk Speaks, Chapter 9). Like any proud kid, the thirteen-year-old Black Elk took his new trophy and proudly displayed it for his mother, who let out a huge cheer.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Sources

Murasaki Shikibu

Murasaki Shikibu (Japanese novelist from the 10th and 11th centuries)

“Age should not turn people into children again, but I am afraid that is what happens.”

  • From Murasaki Shikibu’s The Tale of Genji (chapter 28), translated by Royall Tyler (Penguin Classics, 2003).

 

The Pseudo-Werewolf Story From The Witch-Hunter’s Manual, The Malleus Maleficarum

(Werewolf illustration for the story “The Werewolf Howls”. Internal illustration from the pulp magazine Weird Tales (November 1941, vol. 36, no. 2, page 38), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

 

Around 1487, two famous Papal Inquisitors named Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger published The Malleus Maleficarum with the blessing of Pope Innocent VIII. The book covered supernatural topics such as witchcraft, demons and monsters in a question and answer format. It remained a highly influential text among inquisitors and witch-hunters for around three centuries.

In the peculiar pages of The Malleus Maleficarum, the authors gave several accounts of monsters, or, at least, illusions of monsters inspired by witches or the devil. One of the more interesting tales recorded in the book told of a delirious man who unfortunately believed he turned into a murderous wolf whenever he slept. The authors of the text used the following story as an example of the magical illusions that witches and devils could impose on unsuspecting people.

The Inquisitors cited a certain William of Paris as the source of this tale. The story began with a troubled man living alone in a cave. He truly and honestly believed that he became a wolf while he slept. Cursed by witchcraft or preyed on by demons, the man dreamed that he crept into nearby towns at night and devoured helpless children. When he awoke, however, he realized that children truly had been killed in nearby towns. Whenever the man dreamt that he had murdered a child, without fail, a child would be found mauled to death the next day, as if by an animal. With these revelations, the man believed to his very core that he was a genuine werewolf.

According to the Inquisitors, however, the man was being deceived. They wrote that while the cursed victim dreamed horrible visions of hunting children, the devil possessed a wolf and reenacted the man’s nightmares in reality. The dreaming man tossed and turned harmlessly in his cave while a separate wolf, supposedly controlled by demonic forces, stalked into town and attacked the vulnerable youth.

According to The Malleus Maleficarum, the diabolical charade continued for a long time. In the end, the story concluded with the townspeople finding the man writhing in delirium on a forest floor. The Inquisitors left no mention of what was done with the mad man, and no names were provided except their source, William of Paris.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Source:

  • The Malleus Maleficarum by Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger, translated by Montague Summers. New York: Dover Publications, 1971.