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Orpheus And The Animals, Painted By Paulus Potter (c. 1625-1654)

This painting, by the Dutch artist Paulus Potter (c. 1625-1654), was inspired by the myths and folktales of Orpheus—a legendary muse-born poet, musician and theologian whose extraordinary artistic ability allowed him to ingratiate himself into the goings-on of ancient Greek heroes and gods. In particular, the scene painted here by Paulus Potter depicts Orpheus grieving in isolation after he came close, but ultimately failed, in a rescue attempt to save his wife from the underworld of Hades. As the story goes, he recited his poems and played his songs alone in his forest retreat. The Roman poet, Ovid (43 BCE-17 CE) described this scene in Book 10 of his Metamorphoses, writing, “Such was the shady cluster of trees which Orpheus attracted, sitting amidst a crowded assembly of birds and of beasts” and again in Book 11, stating, “With songs such as these the Thracian minstrel bewitched the forests, entranced the beasts and compelled the rocks to follow behind him” (Ovid, Metamorphoses, 10.143-144 and 11.1-2). It is this imagery of Orpheus performing before an enraptured audience of animals that Paulus Potter re-creates. Some of the animals that he chose to include in the painting are curious, such as the camel on the left side of the artwork, and the unicorn on the right.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

Jonathan Swift

Jonathan Swift (c. 1667-1745)

Poor nations are hungry, and rich nations are proud; and pride and hunger will ever be at variance.”

  • Gulliver’s Travels (Voyage to the Houyhnhnms, chapter 5) by Jonathan Swift. New York: Washington Square Press, 1970.

The Tale Of The Bandit Official, Yi Zong

In the 2nd century BCE, a man named Yi Zong led a gang of thieves and racketeers in the Hedong region of China. He ran a fine-tuned operation, pushing out competitors and collecting a steady stream of ill-gotten money, all with few enough casualties so that he did not overly draw the attention of the law. While he devoted himself to this disreputable path, Zong’s sister, Yi Xu, contrastingly pursued a career in medicine. She became a healer of some renown and was therefore invited to join the imperial court by Empress Dowager Wang—the mother of Emperor Wu (r. 141-87 BCE). One way or another, Yi Zong’s name began entering conversations in the imperial inner circles, and the empress dowager and her son openly wondered if the highly-organized criminal could be turned into a law official. Yi Xu apparently was hesitant to recommend her unruly brother, but an invitation was ultimately sent to Hedong, offering Yi Zong a chance to begin a new phase of life. Yi Zong accepted the proposal, agreeing to use his experience in rackets and turf wars to be a tax collector and crime fighter for the Han Dynasty.

Emperor Wu and his officials brought Yi Zong into the government for a trial period as a palace attendant. After they got to know the peculiar recruit—and carefully made sure no items were stolen from the palace—the emperor began gradually promoting Yi Zong to higher positions. He was assigned as a magistrate successively in Shangdang, Changling and Chang’an. When he carried out this role with distinction (and collected a great amount of taxes), he was promoted to chief commandant of Henei. In that capacity, he oversaw a campaign to undermine the power of the criminal Rong family. This impressed the emperor, who then promoted Yi Zong again, now naming him the governor of Nanyang. There, he continued his no-nonsense tax-collection and launched more law enforcement campaigns against powerful criminal or corrupt families. Those targeted by Yi Zong in the region included the Kong, Bao, and Ning clans. Members of the first two families were said to have fled the region, but the Ning family, due to the prominence of Chief Commandant Ning Cheng, was able to hold out against Yi Zong’s inquiries, but not unscathed.

Emperor Wu soon repositioned Yi Zong away from Nanyang and instead appointed him as governor of Dingxiang. There, Yi Zong’s reputation for bloodthirstiness increased. The most infamous of his actions from his term as governor of the region was a mass execution of over 400 individuals that he pulled from a local prison. Yi Zong’s heavy-handed tactics, and his by now long record of disrupting crime wherever he was sent continued to impress Emperor Wu. Therefore, when the emperor found himself in need of someone to fight counterfeiters and other market crimes after changes were made to imperial coins around 120 BCE, his choice was Yi Zong. Removed from his post as governor of Dingxiang, Zong was brought back to the capital and given the title of right prefect. In the capital city, Yi Zong was forced to work with the military commander, Wang Wenshu, and they did not get along. In their rivalry, the two competed to catch the most counterfeiters, and, as told by Grand Historian Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE), “Between them they executed an extraordinary number of people, but the effect of such measures was only temporary, and the offenders continued to increase until it became impossible to deal with them all” (Shi Ji 122). This inability of Yi Zong to curtail crimes against the unpopular and exploitable new imperial coins made Emperor Wu start to reconsider his impression of Yi Zong. Additionally, Zong’s turf wars and rivalries with other law officials began to turn government opinion against him. He finally crossed the line when he arrested the agents of a rival tax collecting official. When this news was brought to Emperor Wu, the ruler reacted viciously. According to Grand Historian Sima Qian, “Yi Zong was convicted of disobeying an imperial edict and impeding the business of the government and was executed and his corpse exposed in the market place” (Shi Ji 122). The execution was said to have occurred around the year 117 BCE.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Print of Chinese general Lin Ch’ung, created by Hankotei Atonari, Morinoya Nakanuki and Yashima Gakutei around 1827, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the Rijksmuseum).

 

Sources:

  • The Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993.

Mercury, Argus And Io, Painted By Govert Flinck (c. 1615-1660)

This painting, created by the Dutch artist Govert Flinck (c. 1615-1660), was inspired by the myth of the nymph, Io. The beginning of her story, as with many of the tales about the much-abused nymphs, did not have a pleasant start—Io was pursued and assaulted by the lusty god, Zeus (or the Roman Jupiter), who then transformed the victimized nymph into a cow to hide the crime from his wrathful wife, Hera/Juno. Nevertheless, Zeus’ lecherous ways were well-known to his spouse, and therefore the queen of the gods looked on with suspicion at her husband and his mysteriously acquired cow. Noticing Zeus’ defensiveness and anxiety over the cow, Hera demanded that the creature be handed over to her as a gift. This was done, and Hera, in turn, tasked a deity named Argus, who conveniently had one hundred eyes, to watch over the cow’s every move. Zeus, however, launched a counter-attack through the means of the messenger-god, Hermes (or the Roman Mercury). As depicted in the painting above, Hermes was sent to free Io from Argus. He succeeded in his task, and, according to the account of the Roman poet, Ovid (43 BCE-17 CE), the messenger-god used a unique tactic to win the day. As the story goes, Hermes/Mercury blandly narrated for Argus the myth about the nymph, Syrinx, being chased by the god Pan—a chase that ultimately resulted in Syrinx transforming into marsh reeds to escape the god’s clutches. Argus fell asleep mid-tale, and Hermes/Mercury fatally punished the sleeping figure for his rude inattentiveness. Ovid described the event:

“When he saw that his enemy’s drowsy eyes had all succumbed
and were shrouded in sleep…[a]t once he stopped talking and stroked the sentry’s
drooping lids with his magic wand to make sure he was out.
Then he rapidly struck with his sickle-shaped sword at his nodding victim
Just where the head comes close to the neck…”
(Ovid, Metamorphoses, I.714-717)

Such is the present and future of the scene painted by Govert Flinck. Although Hermes freed Io of her captivity under Argus, the messenger-god could not spare the nymph from the increasingly suspicious Hera. The queen of the gods eventually sent demon-like entities to haunt the escaped cow, and restless Io was said to have wandered under her supernatural duress all the way to Egypt. Fortunately, around the time that she reached the Nile, Zeus was said to have been able to finally appease Hera’s wrath, allowing Io to at last return to a humanoid shape.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

The Bhagavad Gita

The Bhagavad Gita (c. 2nd century BCE-2nd century CE)

“Death is fixed
for those
who are born,
and birth is fixed
for those who die;
since such an end
is certain,
you should not grieve.”

  • This quote is from discourse/chapter 2, verse 27 of the Bhagavad Gita (a Hindu scripture included in book 6 of the epic poem, the Mahabharata). The translation used here is by Laurie L. Patton (Penguin Classic, 2014).

The Tale Of An Uncharismatic Assassin Whose Awkward Demeanor Doomed His Comrades

Around the year 590, a highly suspicious individual bumbled his way onto the royal estate of Marlenheim, which belonged to King Childebert II of Austrasia (r. 575-595). As the king frequented the estate quite often, and as he and his family had been the target of many intrigues in the past, security was a high priority to the guards, staff, and workers at Marlenheim. The suspicious figure who wandered uninvited into the midst of the royal estate in 590 evidently underestimated just how vigilant the employees and residents of the region could be if something unusual caught their eye. Suspicious gazes immediately fell on the incredibly conspicuous individual as soon as he entered the estate grounds, and a mob of cautiously observant staff members began to circle around him by the time he reached the main house on the Marlenheim property. As told by a contemporaneous bishop and historian of that time, Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594), the guards and workers of the estate began to barrage the man with questions, to which the suspected individual could only fumble over unsatisfactory responses. According to Gregory of Tours, the questioners demanded, “‘Who are you? Where do you come from? What are you doing here?’ they asked him. ‘We do not recognize you.’ ‘I am one of you,’ he answered. They immediately dragged him outside the oratory and put him to the question” (Gregory of Tours, History of the Franks, X.18). Such was the way that this alleged would-be assassin was caught.

After being interrogated (and tortured), the arrested individual gave a confession that he had indeed arrived at Marlenheim for a nefarious purpose. As the story goes, he had been hired by King Childebert’s aunt, Queen Fredegund, who was the matriarch of a rival branch of the Merovingian Dynasty to which Childebert belonged. The tortured individual went on to say that he was only one member of a team of a dozen assassins sent to wreak havoc on Childebert’s kingdom. Five other assassins were allegedly operating near Marlenheim, while a further six agents were stalking the city of Soissons in hopes of an opportunity to strike at Childebert’s oldest son, Theodebert. The aforementioned bishop and historian, Gregory of Tours, described how Childebert’s torturers pried out information from the captured assassin, as well as how the king responded to the confession and testimony:

“As soon as he said this he was tortured unmercifully until he gave the names of his accomplices. They were looked for everywhere. Some were thrown into prison, some had their hands amputated and were afterwards released, some had their ears and noses cut off, and were let out as a subject of ridicule. Several of them killed themselves with their own daggers while they were still in prison; for they could not face all these different tortures; still others died while they were actually being questioned. In one way and another the King certainly had his revenge” (Gregory of Tours, History of the Franks, X.18).

So ended this particular alleged plot. Twelve or more lives ended in mutilation or death due to the unstealthly entrance into the Marlenheim property by the assumed assassin. If Queen Fredegund had indeed launched a dozen assassins simultaneously against her nephew and his son, it would not have been the first time that her efforts of intrigue came to naught. By 590, she had already been accused of instigating many other assassination attempts of mixed results. If her reputation was as fierce as her contemporary chroniclers made it out to be, Queen Fredegund likely shrugged off the failure of this plot and immediately began planning her next attack.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Prince ordering an arrest, from a 15th century manuscript of Le livre des faits d’armes et de chevalerie (labeled BL Harley 4605, ff. 94v-95 by the British Library), [Public domain] via Creative Commons.jpg).

 

Sources:

  • The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971.

Moses with the Tables of Law, painted by Pieter Gaal (c. 1768-1819)

This painting, created by the Dutch artist Pieter Gaal (c. 1768-1819), depicts Moses—the lawgiver of the Abrahamic religions—with the Ten Commandments, a code that forbade actions such as murder, adultery, theft and false accusations, as well as emotions such as envy, and also condemns idolatry, blasphemy and polytheism. Besides the inscribed tablets of stone, upon which the commandments were written, the artist Pieter Gaal also included in his painting the addition of peculiar rays of light jutting out from Moses’ head. This interesting detail comes from a pesky line in the Book of Exodus that caused great annoyances for churchmen who wished to commission artistic renditions of Moses. The line in question is Exodus 34:35, which claims that Moses’ followers “saw that his face was radiant.” Early translators faced a dilemma regarding this line, as the Hebrew word for “radiated light” (Keren) could also be translated to “grew horns.” This latter interpretation of “grew horns” was unfortunately used in the 5th-century Vulgate Bible, produced by St. Jerome, and his awkward translation inspired many an artist to add horns to the top of Moses’ head. Pieter Gaal brought both interpretations together for this painting, choosing to grace his subject’s head with horns of light. In contrast, the famous artist, Michelangelo, opted for much more realistic horns in his masterful statue of Moses (see more about that HERE).

 

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

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Ptolemy I Generously Donated To The Funeral Of An Apis Bull

Ptolemy I was an officer in the army of Alexander the Great (r. 336-323 BCE) who dramatically ascended the military hierarchy to become a leading general. Ptolemy’s prominence at the time of Alexander’s death allowed him to have great influence in the future of Alexander’s empire. The late ruler’s generals and confidants divided the empire amongst themselves for governance. Ptolemy was able to maneuver himself into the position of satrap or governor of Egypt, and although he would not proclaim himself king for many years, he had no intention of relinquishing control of his chosen domain. Whereas other power players in the immediate post-Alexander world, such as Perdiccas (d. 321), Antipater (d. 319) and Antigonus (d. 301 BCE), wanted to keep the sprawling empire intact, either ruled by a blood-relation of Alexander or by themselves, Ptolemy consistently plotted for decentralization that would increase the power of regional governors such as himself in Egypt.

Ptolemy I was an effective multi-tasker, able to simultaneously keep his eye on the chaotic politics and power struggles between Alexander the Great’s successors, while also personally striving to ingratiate and entrench himself with the locals of Egypt. One such move that likely garnered Ptolemy praise and affection from ancient Egyptians was a large donation of money that he made to the funeral of a sacred Apis Bull that had died around the time he first became governor of Egypt. This politically savvy move was commented on by the historian, Diodorus Siculus (c. 1st century BCE), who wrote:

“After the death of Alexander and just subsequently to the taking over of Egypt by Ptolemy the son of Lagus, it happened that the Apis in Memphis died of old age; and the man who was charged with the care of him spent on his burial not only the whole of a very large sum which had been provided for the animal’s maintenance, but also borrowed in addition fifty talents of silver from Ptolemy” (Diodorus Siculus, The Library of History, 1.84).

With his military skill, political prowess and aptitude for public relations, Ptolemy I (eventually nicknamed Soter, or ‘Savior’) maintained control of Egypt and established a hereditary monarchy. After being a governor of his province for nearly two decades, he finally declared himself King of Egypt around 305 BCE and left no question about succession by elevating his son, Ptolemy II, as co-king in 285 BCE. King Ptolemy I would die two or three years later, but the Ptolemaic Dynasty that he created would maintain power in Egypt until the family was overthrown by the Romans in 30 BCE.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Procession of the Sacred Bull, painted by Frederick Arthur Bridgman (1847–1928), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

 

Sources:

Ariovistus and Julius Caesar, print by Johann Michael Mettenleiter (c. 1765-1883)

This illustration, by the German artist Johann Michael Mettenleiter (c. 1765-1883), depicts a meeting between the Roman military leader and eventual dictator, Julius Caesar (c. 100-44 BCE), and the Germanic Suebian warlord, Ariovistus. A clash between the two opposing forces was inevitable after Ariovistus crossed the Rhine to wage war against the Gallic Aedui people, who were Julius Caesar’s allies. The Romans responded to this attack in 58 BCE, deploying forces to confront the Germanic army. Julius Caesar and Ariovistus, each trying to outmaneuver the other, eventually came head to head in the Vosges mountain range, perhaps at a place near what is now called Colmar. The two leaders at first tried to negotiate. Julius Caesar mentions this meeting in his Commentaries on the Gallic War:

“There was a large plain, and in it a mound of earth of considerable size. This spot was at nearly an equal distance from both camps. Thither, as had been appointed, they came for the conference. Caesar stationed the legion, which he had brought on horseback, 200 paces from this mound. The cavalry of Ariovistus also took their stand at an equal distance. Ariovistus then demanded that they should confer on horseback, and that, besides themselves, they should bring with them ten men each to the conference” (Julius Caesar, Gallic War, 1.43).

It is this meeting between Julius Caesar and Ariovistus that Johann Michael Mettenleiter re-created in his artwork. Of course, little headway was made in the negotiation between the Roman leader and his Germanic adversary. After a period of skirmishes and standoffs, Julius Caesar decisively beat Ariovistus in battle, forcing the Suebian warlord, and whatever remained of his army, back across the Rhine.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

Hesiod

Hesiod (flourished c. 8th century BCE)

“As for those who give straight judgments to visitors and to their own people and do not deviate from what is just, their community flourishes, and the people blooms in it.”

  • From Hesiod’s Works and Days (approximately between lines 219-233), translated by M. L. West (Oxford World Classics, 1988, 1999, 2008).