Home Blog Page 137

The 588 Plague Epidemic In Marseilles

By
thehistorianshut
-

In the year 588, the city of Marseilles experienced an outbreak of a deadly and highly infectious pestilence that caused painful swellings on humans—a symptom of the feared plague that ravaged humanity several times during the Middle Ages. The disease was reportedly brought to Marseilles by a trade ship that came to the city on a route from Visigothic Spain. The ship was suspected because the first of Marseilles’ ill townsfolk had all seemingly bought goods from that particular merchant vessel. Contact tracing soon became much more difficult as time went on, however, for the incubation period of the disease allowed the sickness to spread widely throughout the city before the next wave of infected people began to show symptoms. A contemporaneous bishop, Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594), dramatically described the outbreak, writing, “The infection did not spread through the residential quarter immediately. Some time passed and then, like a cornfield set alight, the entire town was suddenly ablaze with pestilence” (History of the Franks, IX.22). As the epidemic grew, people fled Marseilles, which consequently spread the plague to more villages and towns. Others in Marseilles, instead of fleeing, decided to barricade themselves in a safe spot—Bishop Theodore of Marseilles took this route, spending the duration of the epidemic locked away in Saint Victor’s Church with a small group of friends. Such was the way things were in Marseilles for around two months, until the epidemic seemed to be in the course of petering out.

When the refugees who had fled from Marseilles heard the news that the epidemic appeared to be nearing its end, they reportedly rushed back to the city to restart their former lives. Yet, the disease had not run its course, and the return of fresh bodies to the city only caused the plague to dramatically erupt once more. Gregory of Tours described this second wave of the epidemic in Marseilles, writing, “At the end of two months the plague burned itself out. The population returned to Marseilles, thinking themselves safe. Then the disease started again and all who had come back died” (History of the Franks, IX.22). The second phase of the epidemic, it seems, was worse than the first, killing more people and persisting longer in the city than before.

King Guntram of Burgundy (r. 561-593) was greatly concerned about the outbreak. In his distress, the king apparently concocted a plan in hopes of gaining supernatural aid for his people. As told by the aforementioned Gregory of Tours, “King Guntram ordered the entire people to assemble in church and Rogations to be celebrated there with great devotion. He then commanded that they should eat and drink nothing else but barley and pure water, and that all should be regular in keeping the vigils. His orders were obeyed” (History of the Franks, IX.21). These directives came to naught, however, for the plague persisted in Marseilles and new hotspots emerged in villages near the city of Lyon. It is unclear how long the epidemic persisted after the initial outbreak in 588, but it was known to have flared up anew several more times in the next few years.

Written by C. Keith Hansely

Picture Attribution: (Illustration of plagues from a 14th century manuscript of Haggadah for Passover (the ‘Golden Haggadah”), f. 12v, from The British Library, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

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

Jason and the Dragon, by Salvator Rosa (c. 1615–1673)

By
thehistorianshut
-

This image, by the Italian artist Salvator Rosa (c. 1615–1673), depicts the mythical Greek hero, Jason, disabling a serpent or dragon that guarded the coveted golden fleece. Although this image gives all the credit to Jason, he was just the muscle, and the brains behind this particular operation was his lover, Medea. She came prepared with spells and potions that she knew would calm and debilitate the creature. Step one was to lull the serpent into a trance with a supernaturally-charged song. When this was complete, step two of the plan was to apply a magic potion to the creature’s eyes. This scene was described in the poetic Argonautica by Apollonius of Rhodes (c. 3rd century BCE):

“The song, though, had already charmed the snake.
Loosening the tension of his coils, he settled
upon his countless spirals like a dark wave
settling soft and soundless on a sluggish sea.
Still, though, his crested head was lifted, still
he burned to grip them in his deadly jaws,
and so the maiden dipped a fresh-cut sprig
of juniper into a magic potion
and drizzled it into his open eyes,
warbling all the while a lullaby,
as the aroma of its potency
spread sleep. The monster laid his head down then,
and his innumerable convolutions
lay flat among the undergrowth behind him.
Then, at the maiden’s bidding, Jason took
the golden fleece down from the topmost boughs.”
(Apollonius of Rhodes, Argonautica, Book 4, approximately lines 180-200).

Such is the scene that inspired Salvator Rosa’s illustration. Medea would continue to travel with Jason, and the two would eventually marry. Yet their story was a tragedy without a happy end.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

  • Jason and the Argonauts by Apollonius of Rhodes, translated by Aaron Poochigian. New York: Penguin Classics, 2014.

The Political And Criminal Descent Of Callixenus

By
thehistorianshut
-

Callixenus was the name of an Athenian politician and orator who was involved in prosecuting a case against a group of Athenian generals in the year 406 BCE. To set the scene, Athens had just won the sea battle of Arginusae, in which they destroyed more than half of the fleet of their enemy, the Peloponnesians. Athens and its allies, contrastingly, lost only 25 ships of the 150 vessels that they deployed for the battle. This victory, which should have been a moment of jubilation, quickly devolved into a horrible scandal when a combination of rough storms and poor communication led to a tragic outcome—the crews of the 25 lost Athenian ships were left in the water to die, and adding insult to injury, their bodies were not recovered for funerals.

When news of the abandoned sailors reached Athens, the city became filled with a passion for vengeance. Eight Athenian generals from the battle of Arginusae were ordered to return to Athens to answer for neglecting the men under their command. Only six of the generals willingly sailed home—Pericles, Diomedon, Lysias, Aristocrates, Thrasyllus and Erasinides—the other two fled into exile.

In Athens, the trial quickly became a debacle. The generals blamed their officers and the officers blamed the generals. Grieving families of the dead sailors appeared at the site of the trial to show their anger. Socrates, too, was there, being his usual wise, but inflammatory, self. The most scandalous part of the whole affair, however—at least for ancient Athenians—was that Callixenus and the other prosecutors of the case decided to try the generals in a single mass trial. Instead of giving each of the six generals a separate and individual hearing, as was the law at that time, Callixenus and his comrades in the prosecution were able to arrange for all of the six generals to stand trial together, each beholden to the same verdict. If one was guilty, then all would be unilaterally found guilty. Unfortunately for the generals, the prosecution was calling for the death penalty, and, therefore, the emotionally charged mass trial was deciding whether they would all live or die. Although several men in the Athenian Assembly, such as Socrates and Euryptolemus, did speak in defense of the generals, the Assembly ultimately did sentence the six defendants to death. As the executions were being carried out, however, the Peloponnesian War between the alliances of Athens and Sparta was still ongoing. Ironically, the battle of Arginusae that the condemned generals had orchestrated was the final major Athenian victory in the conflict. From then on, Sparta and the Peloponnesians would regain their momentum in the war and force Athens to surrender by 404 BCE.

Not long after the six Athenian generals were executed, Athens soon regretted how the trial had turned out, or, at least, were ashamed about the manner in which the trial had been conducted. As the heated emotions cooled, and as the Athenian war effort foundered, the anger of the Athenian public began to shift away from the executed generals to the men who prosecuted the case at the trial. In the end, Callixenus and several of his colleagues were arrested and a trial was scheduled. Callixenus, however, would not appear before the Assembly, for he broke out of prison and fled to the Peloponnesians. Diodorus Siculus (c. 1st century BCE) recorded this tale, writing, “Callixenus, when once the populace had repented, was brought to trial on the charge of having deceived the people, and without being allowed to speak in his defence he was put in chains and thrown into public prison; and secretly burrowing his way out of the prison with certain others he managed to make his way to the enemy at Decelea” (Library of History, XIII.103). Callixenus remained in exile until the end of the war, and eventually returned to Athens in 403 BCE. Yet, his part in the trial had not been forgotten, and although allowed to live in the city, he was reportedly treated as a pariah. As told by the contemporaneous scholar and mercenary, Xenophon (c. 420-350 BCE), “everyone loathed him and he died of starvation” (Hellenica, I.7.35). Such was the fate of Callixenus.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Terracotta volute-krater (bowl for mixing wine and water), c. 450 BC, attributed to the Painter of the Woolly Satyrs, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the MET).

 

Sources:

Tor’s Fight With The Giants, By Mårten Eskil Winge (1825–1896)

By
thehistorianshut
-

This painting, by the Swedish artist Mårten Eskil Winge (1825–1896), depicts the Norse god, Thor (called Tor by the artist and Þórr in old Norse), fighting a group of giants. Perhaps the clash depicted here was more of a surprise ambush instead of a formal battle, as the giants facing Thor do not seem to be particularly prepared or well-armed. Mårten Winge’s depiction of Thor is quite detailed, and the painting includes much of the gear and equipment that was known to be used by the god in tales from Norse mythology. This attention to detail can be seen by comparing and contrasting the painting against the medieval description of Thor by Snorri Sturluson (c. 1179-1241):

“Thor has two male goats called Tanngnoist [Tooth Gnasher] and Tanngrisnir [Snarl Tooth]. He also owns the chariot that they draw, and for this reason he is called Thor the Charioteer. He, too, has three choice possessions. One is the hammer Mjollnir. Frost giants and mountain giants recognize it when it is raised in the air, which is not surprising as it has cracked many a skull among their fathers and kinsmen. His second great treasure is his Megingjard [Belt of Strength]. When he buckles it on, his divine strength doubles. His third possession, the gloves of iron, are also a great treasure. He cannot be without these when he grips the hammer’s shaft” (Snorri Sturluson, Prose Edda, Gylfaginning, chapter 21).

Despite the curious exclusion of the gloves of iron, Mårten Winge’s painting includes every other item and creature mentioned in Snorri Sturluson’s paragraph. The two goats, Tanngnoist and Tanngrisnir, are present in the artwork, as is the chariot that they pull. Thor is shown wearing his belt of strength, and he wields his famous hammer, Mjollnir. Even the depiction of Thor battling with the unprepared giants is representative of the typical tales of the god, for he was always eager for a fight with the giants, even if the fight was unprovoked and unnecessary.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

  • The Prose Edda by Snorri Sturluson, translated by Jesse Byock. New York: Penguin Classics, 2005.

Confucius

By
thehistorianshut
-

Confucius (c. 551-479 BCE)

“One who will study for three years
Without thought of reward
would be hard indeed to find.”

  • The Analects of Confucius (Book VIII, section 12) translated by Arthur Waley (Vintage Books, 1989).

The Tale Of Ancient Egypt’s Revenge Against A Roman Cat-Killer

By
thehistorianshut
-

Around the year 59 BCE, a Greek historian from Sicily witnessed a dramatic incident of crime and vengeance in the Ptolemaic Kingdom of Egypt. The scholar that observed these events was Diodorus Siculus, and he recorded the tale in his bulky Library of History. As told by the ancient historian, the odd episode took place just before King Ptolemy XII (r. 80-51 BCE) paid a large sum of money to Julius Caesar, who was then a consul of Rome. This money, paid in 59 BCE, would convince the Roman Senate (which wanted to annex Egypt) to formally acknowledge Ptolemy XII’s status as king of the Egyptians, and also to recognize him as a friend and ally to Rome. Diodorus’ odd tale featured here, however, occurred “when Ptolemy had not as of yet been given by the Romans the appellation of ‘friend’” (Diodorus Siculus, Library of History, 1.83). As such, the relationship of Egypt and Rome at the time of this tale is one of two states negotiating an alliance. Unfortunately for Ptolemy XII, the Roman envoys in Egypt did a poor job of garnering the respect of the local population. In fact, a Roman visitor present in the Kingdom of Egypt at that time made one of the worst mistakes that could be committed—he killed a cat.

Ancient Egyptians loved cats, and were diligent in feeding and protecting them. From big cats to small cats, the Egyptians revered them, and certain Egyptian deities, such as the goddesses Bastet and Sekhmet, were depicted with feline features. As such, cats were considered sacred animals in ancient Egypt, worth protecting to the best of human ability.

Unfortunately, the Roman visitor mentioned before did not take the lesson to heart. Acting carelessly and without caution, this Roman was said to have accidentally killed one of Egypt’s beloved cats. News of the killing spread quickly through the local community, and a mob of angry Egyptians soon congregated together, united by their passionate urge to avenge the slain cat. Diodorus Siculus’ report about the chaotic episode that unfolded was as follows:

“One of the Romans killed a cat and the multitudes rushed in a crowd to his house, neither the officials sent by the king [Ptolemy] to beg the man off nor the fear of Rome which all the people felt were enough to save the man from punishment, even though his act had been an accident. This incident we relate, not from hearsay, but we saw it with our own eyes on the occasion of the visit we made to Egypt” (Diodorus Siculus, Library of History, 1.83).

Such, then, was the fate of the Roman cat-killer. This untimely incident, however, did not derail the agreement between Ptolemy XII and Rome. On the other hand, it likely contributed to the growing Egyptian animosity against their own king. By 58 BCE, Ptolemy’s increasing dependence on, and indebtedness to, Rome caused the king to be expelled from Egypt. His wife and daughter stayed behind with the king’s opposition to rule the kingdom. Ptolemy XII returned to power in 55 BCE, however, with the aid of a Roman army.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Two cats surmounting a box for an animal mummy, dated between 664–30 BCE, [Public Domain] and The Metropolitan Museum of Art).

 

Sources:

Achilles Removing Patroclus’ Body From The Battle, By Léon Davent (c. 16th century)

By
thehistorianshut
-

This illustration, by the French artist Léon Davent (c. 16th century), depicts the Greek hero, Achilles, helping to recover the body of his friend, Patroclus, during the Trojan War. Patroclus’ death occurred due to an argument that had erupted between Achilles and King Agamemnon. This feud between king and warrior began when Agamemnon seized a woman named Briseis from the Greek army’s mightiest warrior, Achilles. After being forced to give Briseis to the king, Achilles protested his perceived mistreatment by refusing to fight any more in the Trojan War, and he similarly held back his elite band of warriors from joining the battle. During the absence of Achilles and his warband, the Greeks struggled to make headway in the Trojan War. Eventually, Achilles’ friend, Patroclus, was convinced by others to put on Achilles’ armor and to return to battle, if only to boost Greek morale and to terrify the Trojans. As is shown in the illustration, however, Patroclus did not survive his foray into the fight. The gods, Apollo and Zeus, intervened in the battle to disarm and blind Patroclus, allowing the Trojans to easily cut him down. Although the Trojans were victorious in this particular skirmish, the death of Patroclus was also the event that finally convinced Achilles to rejoin the war effort. Achilles arrived at the battlefield while the two sides were still fighting over Patroclus’ body. Achilles’ role in reclaiming Patroclus’ remains, however, was not as direct as Léon Davent’s artwork suggests. As the story goes, Achilles caused the Trojans to flee back behind their wall by simply shouting out a few ferocious battle cries from the edge of the battlefield. After these terrifying shouts ended the day’s fight, the Greek warriors were able to start carrying Patroclus’ body back to their tents, and it was then that Achilles joined the procession. Homer described the scene in The Iliad, writing, “With thankful hearts the Greeks pulled Patroclus out of range. They laid him on a bier and his dear companions gathered round him, weeping. Swift-footed Achilles accompanied them, and hot tears poured down his cheeks when he saw his faithful companion lying on the bier pierced by the sharp bronze spear” (Homer, Iliad, book 18, approximately lines 230-240). Such is the story that inspired the above illustration by Léon Davent.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

  • The Iliad by Homer, translated by E. V. Rieu and edited/introduced by Peter Jones. New York: Penguin Classics, 2014.

King Guntram’s Legal Protections For His Daughter, Clotild

By
thehistorianshut
-

King Guntram of Burgundy (r. 561-593), by the end of his reign, knew that he would die without an eligible offspring to inherit his kingdom. His two sons and heirs, Chlotar and Chlodomer, had both died of dysentery in 577, and disease returned in 580 to take away King Guntram’s wife, Autrechild. Guntram never formally remarried, and instead of trying to produce a son to inherit his kingdom, the king ultimately decided to nominate as heir his nephew, King Childebert II of Austrasia (r. 575-595). Yet, although King Guntram had no surviving sons, he was not a childless man—in fact, he had a daughter named Clotild (or Clotilde).

King Guntram and his nephew, Childebert, met on November 28, 587, to discuss succession and other matters concerning their kingdoms. From this meeting was produced the Treaty of Andelot. During this treaty negotiation, the two kings mainly reaffirmed their alliance, discussed the transference of vassals, and negotiated over who would control what disputed land until the future succession occurred. Yet, within these deals and agreements, King Guntram also made sure to have some protections for his daughter, Clotild, written into the treaty. Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594), a contemporaneous bishop and historian who knew both kings well, preserved a copy of the Treaty of Andelot. The passage relevant to Guntram’s daughter, Clotild, read as follows:

“It is further most specifically agreed, and it shall be observed come what may, that whatsoever King Guntram has donated to his daughter Clotild, or may, by God’s grace, in the future donate, in property of all kinds, in men, cities, lands or revenues, shall remain in her power and under her control. It is agreed that if she shall decide of her own free will to dispose of any part of the lands or revenues or monies, or to donate them to any person, by God’s grace they shall be held by that person in perpetuity, and they shall not be taken from him at any time or by any other person. Moreover, she herself shall, under the protection and guardianship of King Childebert, hold secure, in all honour and dignity, everything of which she shall stand possessed at the death of her father” (Gregory of Tours, History of the Franks, IX.20).

Unfortunately, the above quoted paragraph is the first and only mention of Guntram’s daughter in Gregory of Tours’ lengthy history. Therefore, how Clotild’s future ultimately faired is unclear. Yet, with the bloodshed and intrigue that was prevalent at that time in King Guntram’s Merovingian Dynasty, perhaps no news was good news for Clotild. Although it is a shame that Clotild could not inherit her father’s kingdom, it is apparent that King Guntram wanted his daughter to live a comfortable, secure and fairly autonomous life once he was gone.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

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

Sigurd Receives The Sword, Gram, From Regin, Illustrated by Johannes Gehrts (c.1855–1921)

By
thehistorianshut
-

This illustration, by the German artist Johannes Gehrts (c.1855–1921), depicts a scene from the life of Sigurd, the most famous scion of the mythic Volsung clan. As the story goes, Sigurd grew up as a fatherless exile, for his father, King Sigmund, had been slain in battle in the months before Sigurd’s birth. Although the young exile never knew his father, one important keepsake that belonged to King Sigmund was preserved for Sigurd. His mother, Hjordis, had managed to gather all of the broken pieces of slain King Sigmund’s sword before she fled the country. These shards of metal, however, were more than mere memorabilia, for King Sigmund claimed that the blade was a gift from the god, Odin. When Sigurd finally came of age, he obtained pieces of the broken sword from his mother and brought them to a smith named Regin to repair the godly weapon. Regin agreed to repair it, setting in motion the scene illustrated above by Johannes Gehrts. On this memorable incident, the Saga of the Volsungs states, “Now Regin made the sword. And when he brought it out of the forge, it seemed to the apprentices as if flames were leaping from its edges. He told Sigurd to take the sword and said he was no swordsmith if this one broke. Sigurd hewed at the anvil and split it to its base. The blade did not shatter or break” (chapter 15). After the sword passed Sigurd’s anvil test, he was still not convinced. Next, he brought the sword to a river, where he tossed a tuft of wool into the stream. Sigurd stood downstream from the wool, holding the edge of the blade in the path of the floating tuft. When the current brought the wool into contact with the blade, the woolen fibers immediately and cleanly split in two. With this, assured that the blade was durable and sharp, Sigurd brought the sword home.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

  • The Saga of the Volsungs, by an anonymous 13th-century Icelander, translated by Jesse L. Byock. New York: Penguin Classics, 1990, 1999.

Hsün Tzu (Xunzi)

By
thehistorianshut
-

Hsün Tzu (Xunzi, c. 312-230 BCE)

“Man must have his joy, and joy must have its expression, but if that expression is not guided by the principles of the Way, then it will inevitably become disordered.”

  • From Hsün Tzu’s Basic Writings (chapter 20), translated by Burton Watson (Columbia University Press, 1963, 1996).
1...136137138...369Page 137 of 369

RECENT POSTS

POPULAR