Lucan (c. 39-65)
“The gods don’t care, they’d never stoop so low,
the Fates don’t give a damn about your life or death.
Everything follows the whims of men of action.”
A man named Pasagnathes commanded troops and land in Armenia around the year 650 at the behest of the emperors of Constantinople. It was a bittersweet job for Pasagnathes. Although holding a post as governor of an imperial province was prestigious and powerful, it was also a tumultuous and dangerous occupation, especially in the chaotic and war-torn 7th century that Constantinople was experiencing. In Pasagnathes’ century, the Lombards were chipping away at Constantinople’s control in Italy, and this Italian conflict predated and overlapped with the much greater war that erupted between Constantinople and Persia in 602. Formidable Emperor Heraclius (r. 610-641) inherited the war with Persia and succeeded in finally winning the conflict in 628. Nevertheless, although the war with Persia was over, another great war was just beginning. While the age-old rival Romans and Persians had been squandering each other’s resources and manpower between 602 and 628, Islam had come into being in Arabia and aggressive Arab armies left their peninsula to wreak havoc on the exhausted realms of Constantinople and Persia. During the reign of the first caliph, Abū Bakr (r. 632-634), Arab armies began expanding into the regions of Jordan, Palestine, Syria and Iraq, and these expansionist wars increased dramatically during the reigns of Umar I (r. 634-644) and Uthman (r. 644-656). Emperor Heraclius was operating defensively by this point, trying to mitigate the damage of invasion, while also striving to fortify and garrison Anatolia. Under his leadership, Constantinople’s hopes and morale were still relatively high, but the able emperor sickened and died in 641, throwing Pasagnathes and other regional leadership figures into a new round of panicked turmoil.
Emperor Heraclius’ immediate successors proved to be a destabilizing and ineffective bunch. Heraclius was succeeded by his sons, Constantine III and Heraclonas, but Constantine quickly died (likely of tuberculosis) before the year 641 was over, leaving his brother as the sole ruler. Succession drama did not end there, however, for Emperor Heraclonas and his mother, Empress Martina, were soon accused (most likely wrongfully) of poisoning the late Emperor Constantine III, and these rumors caused Emperor Heraclonas to be ejected from power by his political rivals and enemies. This, too, occurred in that busy year of 641. Following the arrest, mutilation, and imprisonment of Heraclonas, the ousted emperor’s nephew, Constans (son of Constantine III), took power in Constantinople as Emperor Constans II (r. 641-668). With such a peculiar rise to power, in addition to the ongoing threat and reality of invasions at that time, it is no surprise that Constans II’s reign became plagued by many mutinies, revolts and rebellions.
Pasagnathes, from his post in Armenia, watched from the sidelines as at least two rebellions erupted in the first years of Emperor Constans II’s reign. Around 644, a patrician official named Valentinian rebelled against the emperor, but the rebellion was dispersed by loyalist forces. Contrastingly, a different patrician named Gregory led a rebellion in North Africa around 646 or 647, and he had more success remaining independent from the emperor. Nevertheless, Gregory’s brief period of rule in Africa was crushed by Arab invaders, who defeated Gregory’s forces around 647 or 648. Pasagnathes studied these two rebels and learned from their mistakes when he, too, eventually decided to break away from Emperor Constans II. Instead of letting himself be crushed by Emperor Constans’ forces or by opportunistic Arab armies, Pasagnathes decided to have a plan in place before he made his moves, a plan that could give him some safety against both sides. In the end, instead of simply rebelling, Pasagnathes decided to make strong alliances with Constans’ enemies. Pasagnathes’ rebellion, dated to 651 or 652, was recorded by a chronicler named Theophanes (c. 750s-818), who wrote, “In this year Pasagnathes the patrician of the Armenians rebelled against the Emperor. He made agreements with Muawiyah and even gave him his own son. When the Emperor heard this he advanced as far as Kappadokian Cesarea but, losing hope for Armenia, returned” (Theophanes, Chronographia, entry for Annus Mundi 6142). Pasagnathes, therefore, made an alliance with the Arabs, particularly the leading general, Muawiyah (also known as Mu’awiya), who would later become the first Umayyad ruler. As the quote hinted, Pasagnathes’ alliance with the Arabs was too much for Emperor Cosntans II to overcome. Curiously, however, Pasagnathes’ rebellion in Armenia was not a complete success. Portions of the region remained hostile to the encroaching Arab forces, and Armenia continued to host skirmishes and battles between the armies of Constantinople and the Arabs. As for Pasagnathes, after his rebellion or defection, he evidently did not play a conspicuous role in the conflict between Constantinople and the Arabs, for chroniclers such as Theophanes did not mention him again in the history of the region.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
Picture Attribution: (Scene of The Crucifixion by Andreas Pavias (c. 15th century), [Public Domain] via Europeana and the National Gallery (Alexandros Soutsos Museum)).
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This painting, by the French artist Pierre Andrieu (c. 1821-1892), is a brighter and more abstract copy of a similar painting produced by Eugène Delacroix (c. 1798 – 1863), of whom Pierre Andrieu was a pupil. The scene is inspired by the story of the ancient Greek hero, Heracles (known to the Romans as Hercules), obtaining the belt of Hippolyte, queen of the Amazons. This event was one of the great Twelve Labors that Heracles carried out for King Eurystheus of Tiryns. According to Diodorus Siculus (c. 1st century BCE) and Pseudo-Apollodorus (1st-2nd century)—the two most complete ancient sources of the Heracles legends—this quest for the Amazon queen’s girdle was the 9th labor that Heracles embarked on for King Eurystheus. In the accounts of both sources, Heracles encountered Queen Hippolyte and her army of the Amazons at a place called Themiscyra. After that point, however, the narratives no longer are in agreement.
In the account of Diodorus Siculus, Heracles was belligerent from the beginning, demanding that Queen Hippolyte’s girdle be handed over or he would take it by force. When there was no response, Heracles went on a rampage, battling his way through a host of Amazon champions until Queen Hippolyte and her army was annihilated. As Diodorus Siculus put it, “Heracles, after thus killing the most renowned of the Amazons and forcing the remaining multitude to turn to flight, cut down the greater number of them, so that the race of them was utterly exterminated” (Diodorus Siculus, Library, 4.16). In the alternative account presented by Pseudo-Apollodorus, Heracles was actually able to receive a peaceful meeting with Queen Hippolyte and he was on the verge of talking the queen into willingly handing over her belt. Nevertheless, in this version of the tale, Heracles’ frequent foe, the goddess Hera, sabotaged the meeting by compelling Hippolyte’s nearby army to attack Heracles’ entourage, which, in turn, caused Heracles to lash out against Hippolyte. Apollodorus wrote, “Hera assumed the likeness of an Amazon and wandered around in the crowd saying that strangers who had just arrived were abducting the queen. Seizing their arms, the Amazons hastened to the ships on horseback; and when Heracles saw them there fully armed, he thought that this must be the result of a plot, and he killed Hippolyte and robbed her of the belt. And then, after fighting the rest of the Amazons, he sailed away, and called in at Troy” (Apollodorus, Library, 2.5.9).
It is likely that Apollodorus’ version of the myth is the one that Pierre Andrieu (and Eugène Delacroix) re-created in their paintings, for Heracles and Queen Hippolyte seem to be alone. Perhaps Hera had just whipped the Amazons into a fury, causing Heracles to attack Hippolyte. The successful quest of fetching the belt, was one more achievement in the long line of accomplishments that Heracles was racking up on the behalf of King Eurystheus of Tiryns. Prior to his encounter with Hippolyte, Heracles had hunted the Nemean Lion, defeated the Lernaean Hydra, obtained the Cerynitian Hind, captured the Erymanthian Boar, cleaned out the cattle pastures of King Augeias of Elis, drove away the Stymphalian Birds, captured the Cretan Bull, and fetched the man-eating horses of Diomedes. With the belt of Hippolyte acquired, Heracles would still have to steal the cattle of Geryon, acquire some golden apples of the Hesperides, and borrow the chthonic guard dog, Cerberus, from the realm of Hades.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
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Immanuel Kant (c. 1724-1804)
“Logic cannot have any empirical part; that is, a part in which the universal and necessary laws of thought should rest on grounds taken from experience; otherwise it would not be logic; i.e., a canon for the understanding of the reason, valid for all thought, and capable of demonstration.”
Emesa, located between Aleppo and Damascus, was a city that had been traditionally aligned with the Roman / Byzantine Empire since the days of Emperor Caracalla (r. 198-217), who designated the region as a colonia of Rome. Throughout its history, Emesa was visited by many emperors and played a prominent role in the various Roman-Persian wars that broke out over the centuries. Emesa’s history, however, became especially complicated after war broke out in the 630s between the Empire of Constantinople and the expanding Arab forces. The city was aligned with Emperor Heraclius of Constantinople (r. 610-641) for much of his reign, and it also hosted a Christian church that was renowned for its beauty and was the seat of power for a bishop.
Emesa’s location in Syria eventually put it on the frontline of the wars between the emperors of Constantinople against the invigorated and aggressively expanding Arab forces. Juxtaposed to the energetic campaigns of the Arabians, the Roman / Byzantine Empire was contrastingly exhausted from a long destructive war with Persia that lasted from 602 to 628. This was compounded by an ongoing struggle with the Lombards in Italy that had been raging since King Alboin led his Lombard people into Constantinople’s Italian lands around 568. Emperor Heraclius, who had personally and ably led the troops of Constantinople to victory over the Persians, was beginning to fall into increasingly ill health during the time when Arab armies started to threaten his realm. He could do little but rush to fortify Anatolia while also sending deputies to try to defensively mitigate the damage of invasion. Nevertheless, Heraclius’ generals on the front lines often failed to outmaneuver their Arab opponents, leading to defeats in battle and loss of imperial territory. Emesa suffered in this time when Heraclius was no longer personally commanding his armies. The city had been the site of victory over the Arabs in 633, but it quickly fell under siege again by 636. When the exhausted, inconsistent and poorly-commanded imperial armies showed no sign of being able to arrive on time to come to the rescue during that later siege, the defenders of Emesa finally decided to surrender the city to the Arabs in 636, capitulating after an approximate four-month standoff.
After the surrender of the city, the local church and bishop in Emesa were evidently left alone and continued to function. The bishops there would have experienced the reigns of the caliphs, Umar I (r. 634-644) and Uthman (r. 644-656), as well as the rivalry between Ali (r. 656-661) and the Umayyad Dynasty’s founding leader, Mu’awiya (r. 661-680). The city of Emesa actively supported Ali, and Mu’awiya may have harbored a grudge against the city after he outlasted Ali to become the sole ruler of the Muslim empire. Otherwise, perhaps the city became troubled by violent zealots, such as the Khārijite movement. Whatever the case, the local bishop of Emesa suffered a mysterious death in the mid-660s. In an entry for the year Annus Mundi 6157 (approximately 665-666 CE), the chronicler, Theophanes (750s-818), wrote, “the Bishop of Emesa was burned alive” (Theophanes, Chronographia, entry for Annus Mundi 6157). Unfortunately, that brief statement was all that the chronicler said on the matter—no further details were divulged about anything regarding who, how, or why, involving the case. The only possible context clue, at least from the chronicle, was that a new wave of warfare between Constantinople and the Arabs had just broken out a few years prior to the bishop’s alleged death by burning. Whatever the case for the bishop’s mysterious demise, Emesa would continue to feature anti-caliph sentiment, for which the Caliph Marwan II (r. 744–750) would eventually tear down Emesa’s walls around 745.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
Picture Attribution: (Landscape with a Burning Tower, by Carlo Marchionni (1702–1786), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the Smithsonian).
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This illustration, by the American artist John Shelton Eland (c. 1872-1933), re-creates the myth of Apollo and Daphne. Following the account of the Roman poet Ovid (43 BCE-17 CE)—whose poetry has served as inspiration for many artists that portray mythological stories—a nymph named Daphne (the woman surrounded by vegetation) had the misfortune of being near the gods, Apollo and Cupid, while the two archer-deities insulted each other in an argument over which of them had a better claim to their favorite weapon, the bow. Apollo won the verbal debate, but Cupid was eager to seek revenge. Flexing his sensual powers, Cupid roped in the innocent bystander, Daphne, to unknowingly participate in a palpable display of the power that desire has even over the gods. As the story goes, Cupid forced Apollo to fall in love with Daphne, who, in turn, was conversely inspired by the love-god to reject all erotic urges. And so, a chase began, in which lustful Apollo relentlessly tried to overtake the unreciprocating and quite terrified Daphne. Although Daphne was spry, she could not outrun fleet-footed Apollo forever. In the end, the only way for her to escape the clutches of her pursuer was to plead for help from her river-god father, Penéüs, and muster all of her own power as a nymph in order to bring about a supernatural solution to her problem. As the story goes, Daphne thwarted Apollo’s desires by transforming herself into a laurel tree. Ovid described the transformation, writing:
“She hardly ended her prayer when a heavy numbness
came over her body; her soft white bosom was ringed in a layer
of bark, her hair was turned into foliage, her arms into branches.
The feet that had run so nimbly were sunk into sluggish roots;
her head was confined in a treetop; and all that remained was her beauty.
Tree though she was, Apollo still loved her.”
(Ovid, Metamorphoses, book 1, approximately lines 548-553)
It is Daphne’s transformation into a laurel tree that John Shelton Eland re-creates in his artwork. Daphne can be seen mid-metamorphosis as Apollo leaps forward in his futile effort to catch her before the transformation was complete. Although Apollo could not fulfill his Cupid-inspired passions, his devotion to Daphne was said to have continued. The complicated relationship between the god and Daphne evolved into Apollo having a newfound platonic affection for laurels.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
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Homer (Iliad written c. 700 BCE)
“No one is going to send me down to Hades before my time, though death itself, I think, is something no man, coward or hero, can escape, once he has come into this world.”
Asclepius (also known as Asklepius and Aesculapius), in ancient Greek mythology, was said to have been the greatest healer who lived in the primordial times when gods and legends wandered the lands. Although several other mythological and legendary figures in Greek folklore were also known as miracle healers, who could even raise the dead, Asclepius’ talents were far greater than any of his peers. Whereas other heroes could drag individual souls out of the underworld, or resurrect fewer people than could be counted on one hand, the masterful healer Asclepius was said to have been able to cure and resurrect hordes of people. The scale of Asclepius’ miraculous operation infuriated and frightened Hades—the ruler of the underworld—because people who would have otherwise died were saved by Asclepius’ healings, and people already dead were being resurrected at an alarming pace. In fact, more people were supposedly leaving the realm of the dead than entering it. This was a serious matter for Hades, as the souls of the dead were his subjects, a key element to his standing and authority as ruler of the underworld. Death, as scores of myths and folktales attest, does not like to be cheated. Therefore, Hades petitioned Zeus to do something about Asclepius.
Mortal beings, understandably, were enthusiastic about Asclepius’ ability to keep people healthy and especially his seemingly inexhaustible ability to resurrect those who died. Yet, to immortals like Hades, Asclepius’ work was a disruption of the natural order, jeopardizing the authority of the divine entities overseeing life, death and fate. In short, Hades’ arguments against the healer won over most of the gods, including the high-god Zeus. Of the major gods, only Apollo—who was Asclepius’ father—tried to defend the healer. Despite Apollo’s protests, Zeus sided with Hades and decided that Asclepius’ campaign of healings and resurrections had to be stopped at all costs. Therefore, Zeus grabbed one of his weaponized thunderbolts and struck down Asclepius with a jolt of lightning. Although Asclepius had been seemingly able to heal his peers of any condition imaginable, he could not do anything to save his own mortal body from Zeus’ lightning. Apollo, enraged, was said to have killed the giant that produced Zeus’ thunderbolt as payback for the execution of Asclepius, but in the end, Zeus regained a peaceful partnership with grieving Apollo. On this myth of Asclepius endangering the underworld and subsequently being struck down by Zeus, a historian named Diodorus Siculus (c. 1st century BCE) wrote:
“Hades brought accusation against Asclepius, charging him before Zeus of acting to the detriment of his own province, for, he said, the number of dead was steadily diminishing, now that men were being healed by Asclepius. So Zeus, in indignation, slew Asclepius with his thunderbolt, but Apollo, indignant at the slaying of Asclepius, murdered the Cyclopes who had forged the thunderbolt for Zeus” (Diodorus Siculus, Library, 4.71).
According to myth, Asclepius was survived by two sons, Machaon and Podaleirius. They reportedly made the risky decision to keep practicing some of Asclepius’ healing arts, but as they could not reproduce the healings or resurrections at the same god-threatening quality or scale as their father, they were thankfully spared by Zeus and Hades. As for Asclepius, having his mortal body destroyed by Zeus was not the end. In an awkward turn of events for the gods that had conspired against him, Asclepius managed to maintain power and influence after his mortal death and was able to ascend to godhood, a state from which he could still perform miracles. Following this belief, temples to Asclepius popped up in Greek and Roman lands, where desperate travelers flocked to pray for healing.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
Picture Attribution: (A priest of Asklepios (Aesculapius) and a patient calling up the sacred, non-poisonous snakes, by Amedee Forestier (d. 1930), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the NYPL).
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This painting, by the French artist Nicolas-Guy Brenet (c. 1728-1792), features one of the early stories from the life of the legendary ancient Greek hero, Theseus. As the ancient storytellers told the tale, Theseus’ mother was a princess named Aethra—the daughter of King Pittheus of Troezen. Theseus’ father was a disputed figure, with some writers claiming Poseidon was the father, while others insisted Theseus was sired by King Aegeus of Athens. Whatever the case, King Aegeus was a guest at the court of Aethra’s father when the princess became pregnant, and whether or not Poseidon had become involved, King Aegeus of Athens left Troezen thinking that Aethra’s future child would possibly be his son or heir at Athens. Nevertheless, King Aegeus did not want just any whelp from Troezen to come to Athens and succeed him; instead, the king decided to set up a trial for Princess Aethra’s kid to one day pass. If the child succeeded in overcoming the ordeal and brought proof to King Aegeus, then the king would accept the child as his own. The trial King Aegeus set up was similar to the Arthurian legends that later emerged about a sword in a stone, yet, in this ancient Greek case it was a sword under a stone, or, more precisely, a boulder. Summarizing this myth, the ancient scholar Plutarch (c. 50-120) wrote:
“[King Aegeus,] suspecting that she was with child by him, he left a sword and a pair of sandals hidden under a great rock, which had a hollow in it just large enough to receive these objects. He told the princess alone about this, and bade her, if a son should be born to her from him, and if, when he came to [a designated] man’s estate, he should be able to lift up the rock and take away what had been left under it, to send that son to him with the tokens, in all secrecy, and concealing his journey as much as possible from everybody” (Plutarch, Parallel Lives, Life of Theseus, chapter 3).
After King Aegeus left Troezen, Princess Aethra gave birth to the hero, Theseus. Aethra eventually told her son about the gifts that King Aegeus had left under the nearby boulder. Theseus, proving himself to be the legendary hero, was able to lift the great rock and retrieve the sword and sandals from underneath it. It is this episode of Theseus pulling the blade out from underneath the boulder that Nicolas-Guy Brenet re-created in his painting. Wielding the sword and other tokens left behind by King Aegeus, Theseus was able to travel to Athens and eventually become the heir of the city-state.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
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Torquato Tasso (c. 1544-1595)
“O wonder-worker Love, who extracts from tears
hot sparks, and who with water kindles hearts!
As nature’s master has he long been known.”
